that they _are_ excited, is somewhat feminine; seeing that the said
“excitement” is not patent on the surface of ordinary perception. And,
this being the case, the excitement, or its mode rather, not being given
immediately, but only mentally annexed, Mr. Peirce is not consistently
positivist. It is equally open to an opponent to “annex” something else
of his own to the “given” thing, or altogether to deny the necessity of
anything whatever being thus annexed. In any case that (if anything)
which is sought to be annexed must stand the test of positivism; we must
know _if_ such a thing is, and _what_ it is precisely. And this is just
what Mr. Peirce cannot do for us. He cannot tell us exactly what the
“excitant” of feelings _is_; he can only guess what it is “_something
like_,” viz.: the feelings themselves. Hence the following:
“The principle with which I set out [that of continuity]
requires me to maintain that these feelings are communicated to
the nerves by continuity, _so that there must be something like
them in the excitants themselves_. If this seems extravagant,
it is to be remembered that it is the sole possible way of
reaching any explanation of sensation, which otherwise must be
pronounced a general fact absolutely inexplicable and ultimate.
Now absolute inexplicability is a hypothesis which sound logic
refuses, under any circumstances, to justify.” (P. 558.—The
italics are not in the original.)
There must be something like the feelings in the excitants of the
feelings. Now, this point is worthy of the closest attention. Note that
“the excitant” _alone_ is mentioned. _Vibrations_ excite sight and
hearing. Yet, from what follows, it is plain that Synechism is not
inconsistent with belief in a fixed objective. “Even the least psychical
of peripheral sensations, that of pressure, has, in its excitation,
conditions which, though apparently simple, are seen to be complicated
enough when we consider _the molecules and their attractions_,” pp.
557-558. Can there, then, be any doubt that we have here three distinct
things: (1) a subjective, (2) an “excitant,” and (3) an objective; the
middle term being a vehicle of communication between the first and third?
It does not affect this presentation of Mr. Peirce’s position that,
at an earlier stage of his argument, he speaks of matter—synonymous,
presumably, with the objective—as being “not completely dead, but merely
mind, hide-bound with habits,” as “partially deadened” or “effete,”
mind; or that the editor of _The Monist_ says that, with Mr. Peirce,
“mind is the beginning of all.” (_The Monist_, Vol. III, No. 1, p.
95.) The question, at present, is not regarding origins, but regarding
co-existences. So that there is a distinct _hiatus_ here, arising from
the confusion of the stimulant, or excitant, of sensation with the
objective itself.[70] Now, the stimulant of sensation is never the object
perceived. Hence, once an objective is admitted, a trinity of entities is
unavoidable, since still less can the “stimulant” be the subject. This
special difficulty, in the present writer’s opinion, is inseparable from
dualism in every form. How it besets Mr. Peirce’s theory is evident from
his hazarded suggestion: “There must be _something like_ the feelings
in the excitants.” He thus uses only two of his cosmical terms, and
gives the third the go-by! All dualism halts, but surely there is here a
palpable stumble.
In a recent article in _The Open Court_[71] I have pointed out the
vanity of introducing a vehicle of communication between object and
subject, especially emphasising the fact that, once this intermediate
term is brought in, the veritable objective disappears. “Once you bring
in vibrations,” I remarked, “you practically provide a _second_ object,
which is really a part of the subject, and, in order to do this, you
have taken from the original objective all that composed it.”[72] (_The
Open Court_, p. 3361.)
Is it any wonder, then, that Mr. Peirce should suppose the excitants
to be “something like” the excited feelings? Since he, practically,
surrenders the objective, what could more closely resemble the subjective
than the subjective itself? If he had adopted the position of Hume,
and made impressions and ideas all-in-all, his principle of continuity
might hold. But this he does not do, since (1) he implicitly admits the
objective element, and (2) even if he did not do this, there must be
something other than the idea or feeling in his system, since, otherwise,
there could be no ground for the charge of seeming “extravagance,” which,
he admits, may be leveled against, at least one of, his conclusions.
FEELINGS SPATIALLY EXTENDED.
This leads us to Mr. Peirce’s conclusions regarding subjective spatial
extension—the spatial extension of feelings—as the result of observation
of irritated protoplasm. Our attention is directed to an excited mass of
protoplasm,—an amœba, or a slime-mould,—which “does not differ in any
radical way from the contents of a nerve-cell, though its functions may
be less specialised.” (P. 547.) The irritation is induced when, say, the
amœba is “quiescent and rigid,” and we note its behaviour under it. That
feeling passes from one part of this amorphous continuum of protoplasm to
another, we are led to believe. And this conclusion follows: “Whatever
there is in the whole phenomenon to make us think there is feeling in
such a mass of protoplasm,—_feeling_, but plainly no _personality_,—goes
logically to show that that feeling has a subjective, or substantial,
spatial extension, as the excited state has.” This is a chain of
reasoning. Let us examine its links. We have:
(1) The behaviour of the amœba under immediate, mechanical irritation—the
spread, or spatial extension, of the state of irritation.
(2) We are asked to identify this spread-out irritation, this field of
excitation, with “feeling” on the part of the amœba, because there is “no
doubt that it feels when it is excited.”
(3) From the spatial extension of the irritation, thus identified with
feeling, we are asked to conclude that the feeling, in the amœba, has a
subjective, spatial extension as the excited state has, and, finally,
passing from the feeling of the amœba to our own feelings, by inference,
we are asked to admit:
(4) Not that we have necessarily a feeling of bigness, but that “the
feeling [inferentially arrived at from the spread-out irritation on the
part of the amœba] as a subject of inhesion is big.” (P. 548.)
After this, we are disposed to agree with Mr. Peirce when he says: “This
is, no doubt, a difficult idea to seize”; not, as he goes on to say, “for
the reason that it is a subjective, not an objective, extension,” but on
the ground that the reasoning involves, plainly, not only the subjective
and objective, but what Clifford calls the “ejective,” as well, and this
assumption, _inter alia_, that the last-named lies on the same plane as
the former. Never, surely, was the conclusion that feelings have spatial
extension more easily reached. It is only when we find that in (1) we
are dealing with the objective pure and simple, observed phenomena; that
in (2) the connection between irritation or excitation, and feeling
is assumed, in the object, because feeling, subjectively, is found to
accompany irritation; that (3) as the irritation, in the amœba, is spread
out, so is the feeling to be viewed; and (4) that, as the feeling of the
amœba, so is our feeling to be considered, viz.: that the feeling, “as
a subject of inhesion, is big,” we are led to say after all this, that,
by such a process, anything, or everything, could be demonstrated,—the
_field_ of spatial extension, for example, having no more claim to be
assumed than the _point_ at which the irritation admittedly begins. Why
should the _middle_ stage of the irritation be selected in preference to
the _initial_ and _final_ ones? The irritation originates in a point,
spreads, and then dies out. Thus our feeling, (we purposely use Mr.
Peirce’s nomenclature,) or idea, of an elephant, is unquestionably,
as a subject of inhesion, “big.” _But only for a time, and not at
first._ Really, our idea, or feeling—in Synechism—of an elephant, must
logically commence as a minute speck, and return to this vanishing-point
again. There is no other way out of it. For must not the analogy of the
irritated amœba be followed throughout, and if not, why not?
DUALISM AND THE WAY OUT.
The _crux_ of philosophy, from the time of Hume to the present day, has
been, what may be summarised as, the consciousness of succession _as_
succession. The hours pass over the mental dial, but, though one succeeds
the other, something is needed besides the succession of the terms of the
series to give consciousness of the series _as a series_, to give the
synthesis of the day made up of hours. Hume virtually gave up the problem
in eviscerating the subjective. Prof. T. H. Green only missed the point
at issue when he placed his eternal consciousness, which was to “have
and to hold” the terms of the cosmical series, as it were in solution,
for the human organism, _out of time altogether_. Mr. Peirce puts the
matter boldly when he says: “An idea once past is gone forever, [in the
sense of an event in an individual consciousness,] and any supposed
recurrence of it is another idea.” (P. 534.) In order, then, that an
idea past may be present really, and not vicariously, the notion that
consciousness necessarily occupies an interval of (finite) time must be
given up; since, to put it briefly, a second past is as much past as a
year. According to Mr. Peirce then, and his contention is supported by an
elaborate inquiry into the nature of infinity and continuity generally,
“we are immediately conscious through an infinitesimal interval of time.”
For the complete _rationale_, reference must necessarily be made to the
article itself.
Even the above outline, however, is sufficient to show that, here as
elsewhere, Mr. Peirce’s dualism is his snare. Nothing but this could lead
to a disintegration so complete as the following:
“In this infinitesimal interval, not only is consciousness
continuous in a subjective sense, that is, considered as a
subject, or substance, having the attribute of duration; but
also, because it is immediate consciousness, its object is
_ipso facto_ continuous.” (P. 536.)
This is to admit, practically, that there is something in consciousness
other than the consciousness itself. And this is evident, because at
one and the same time, (whether an interval of finite time, or an
infinitesimal interval,—whether an “instant” or a “moment,”—does not
matter,) these two entities are different. For:
“This mediate perception is objectively, or as to the object
represented, spread over the four instants; but subjectively,
or as itself the subject of duration, it is completely embraced
in the second moment.” (_Ibid._)
But this “mediate” and “immediate” cannot simultaneously exist, unless
there is something else _to which_ they do so exist. It is only paltering
with us in a double sense to speak of “instant” and “moment” in this
connection. The one may pass into the other, but there is “a time when”
(it matters not whether the interval be finite or infinitesimal) they do
not coexist. Hence, they are not the same, but different.
According to Mr. Peirce’s notation, for all ordinary purposes we may
write, if _a_ is a finite quantity, and _i_ an infinitesimal, _a_ + _i_
= _a_. “That is to say, this is so for all purposes of measurement.” Be
it so; the infinitesimal may be neglected for purposes of calculation.
But such a formula can only be experimental. The theory which embodies
it cannot avail for a world-scheme; to admit it would be to grant that
a thing is, and is not, at one and the same time. Surely the most
superficial reader will see that, to put it popularly, a world-scheme
admits of no alternative subject to accept, or to reject, a neglectable
quantity.
And this is not the only instance of dualism in Mr. Peirce’s world-scheme
as a totality. For have we not Synechism and Tychism as well? With the
latter Mr. Peirce does not deal in the paper now under consideration. He
must, however, be credited, or debited, with it, as held in reserve. For
our present purpose it is not necessary to examine Tychism in detail. Its
alleged existence is sufficient. For, and here let the significance of
what follows be noted, in Mr. Peirce’s view, as opposed to determinism,
Tychism exists as a principle. It _is_, otherwise it could not be
expounded as operative. But it also exists as an idea, first, it may be,
in our author’s mind, and subsequently in the minds of his disciples.
Thus it falls into the synechistic province: “As an idea it can only be
affected by an idea, by anything but an idea it cannot be affected at
all.” (“The Law of Mind,” p. 557.) Yet to affirm Tychism thus impotent,
because unaffectible, outside the synechistic sphere, is to contradict
Mr. Peirce’s conclusions, for if Tychism is nothing outside the ideal
realm, it is altogether inside it. Hence Synechism is everything
practically, and Tychism nothing. But that Mr. Peirce will not have. He
has a two-fold Tychism, that is the fact; actual and operative on the one
hand, ideal on the other. And this is dualism confessed.
Mr. Peirce’s method is quite fertile in duplication of the subjective
entity. His latest paper, “Man’s Glassy Essence,” (_The Monist_, Vol.
III, No. 1,) contains some typical instances.
“Viewing a thing from the outside, considering its relations of
action and reaction with other things, it appears as matter.
Viewing it from the inside, looking at its immediate character
as feeling, it appears as consciousness.” (P. 20.)
This is the strictly empirical view. And it may be possibly defended
with the contention that all problems, to be duly examined, must, in
the first place, be viewed from that standpoint. But it must be plainly
manifest to any unprejudiced thinker that, even granted a total cosmical
problem made up of separate problems of an individual nature, the same
method of solving the sum cannot be employed which is used in solving
its constituents. In the above instance, considering matter in its
totality, and consciousness in its totality, what is left to view them
indifferently from “outside,” or “inside”? Plainly nothing. Still more
transparent an example is the following:
“The consciousness of a habit involves a general idea. In
each action of that habit certain atoms get thrown out of
their orbit, and replaced by others. Upon all the different
occasions it is different atoms that are thrown off, but they
are analogous from a physical point of view, and there is an
inward sense of their being analogous. Every time one of the
associated feelings recurs, there is a more or less vague sense
that there are others, that it has a general character, and of
about what this general character is.” (P. 20.)
This is part of the answer to the query: How do general ideas appear in
the molecular theory of protoplasm? Now, without discussing the value
of this _rationale_, as affecting Mr. Peirce’s own theories, it is not
difficult to see what its acceptance would “lead to.” Certain atoms of
a molecule get thrown out and are replaced by _others_. This happens
repeatedly. On different occasions _different atoms_ come and go. Yet
they are “analogous,” and there is “an inward sense” of this. Upon whose
shoulders is the burden of proving the analogy placed, or of experiencing
it even? With whom or what is there “an inward sense”? Perhaps it is
better not to answer otherwise than to say that if this faculty be
not present in the ever changing molecule to begin with, it cannot be
logically reached by any process of multiplying it.
THE MONISTIC SOLUTION.
Monism, as a unitary system of the universe, does not necessarily commend
itself to acceptance simply _as_ monism. To say, this is dualism,
_therefore_ it cannot be a correct _rationale_ of the universe, since
the only true one must be monistic, is to start with an unphilosophical
prepossession. The true solution may be two-fold, or it may be manifold.
But it is not too much to say, perhaps, on the other hand, that, even as
causes may not be multiplied without necessity, even so phenomena must
not logically be divided into independent groupings without sufficient
reason given. Preference should be accorded to a monistic, rather than
to a dualistic, system, not on the ground alone of the simplicity of
the former, but on the ground that a theory which has one explanation
for one set of phenomena and another explanation for a second set, must
first demonstrate that a unitary conception of the universe is, at
least, improbable, otherwise it will always be hinted that the dualism
in question has not gone deep enough to find a synthetic bond wherewith
to unite the apparently diverse. Mr. Peirce, throughout his article on
Synechism, constantly touches, despite his latent dualism, the margin
of a truth so great as to merit the title of transcendent. As often he
misses it. And his concluding words are, in this connection, almost
wistful: “The facts that stand before our face and eyes and stare us
in the face, are far from being, in all cases, the ones most easily
discerned. That has been remarked from time immemorial.” (P. 559.) But
though thus “remarked,” the maxim has, as immemorially, been neglected
in practice. To none can this remark be more fitly applied than to the
excogitator of Synechism, himself seeing that, having arrived at the
point of asserting that “there must be _something like_ the feelings in
the excitants themselves,” he does not see that the excitant and the
feeling are one and the same; and that there is no second or third term
in the cosmical equation.
Does this seem “extravagant”? If so, the reply must be _not_ that it is
the only escape from an otherwise inexplicable difficulty, but that there
is really no difficulty at all. What Mr. Peirce’s own Synechism “_leads
to_” is that the past, the present, and the to-come, alike of matter and
idea, are not reconciled by “time and its flow,” or even by the logic
of infinitesimals, subtle though that may be, but that the contents of
each and all, with all their apparently infinite variety, resolve into a
consistent unity.
THE “MISSING LINK.”
Pushed to a logical conclusion, the excitants and the feelings owe
their apparent variety to their assigned position in a series, the
correspondence or relation between them being _only another link in
the self-same chain_. Vulgar realism never fathoms this explanation.
It always harps upon the one string that idealism, and more especially
idealistic monism, fails to account for variety or difference;
forgetting, or rather never seeing, that difference or variety which
is its essence, is only one more added perception on the same plane
with ordinary perceptions; so that given _a_, _b_, _c_, _d_,—sundry
perceptions,—their essential variety may be stated as _e_. Or this may
be stated numerically; variety, as a whole, being nothing more than
the sum of differences, which is always something other than the terms
differentiated, but always on the same level with them—the difference
between any continuous number, above unity, and another number being a
third number, which is different from either. Variety in numbers cannot
be expressed otherwise than numerically. So, in the last recess, the
variety of colors is only colorable, of tones audible, and so on. The
“vibrations of inconceivable complexity” which, according to Mr. Peirce,
“excite sight and hearing,” can be approximately stated numerically,
so that the difference between red and, say, yellow, is a number
corresponding to another color, which may be orange or not; it being
part of the present scientific theory of light that any specific number
of ethereal undulations happening between the colors of the ocular
spectrum, corresponds to a possible color, although the retinal expanse
may be insensible to these particular rates of tremor. To Mr. Peirce it
may appear “extravagant,” but the difference between any two colors and
tones is another color, another tone; just as the difference between any
two numbers is a third number. This is the logical outcome of his own
Synechism; _this_, in part, is what it “leads to.”
TIME AND ITS “FLOW” RATIONALISED.
Excitants and feelings being unified, and the element of variety,
hitherto supposed to be the exclusive copyright of vulgar realism, shown
to be nothing but another term added to the series, or, numerically, a
concurrent series—so that should _a_, _b_, _c_, _d_ ... be a series,
the variety of the series may be expressed as _e_, or the individual
differences as _f_, _g_, _h_ ...—it only needs an examination of what
Mr. Peirce terms “time and its flow,” to render his system a completely
monistic one, and this although true monism is much more than the
negation of determinism, synechistically expressed.
In Mr. Peirce’s article under examination, “The Law of Mind,” the
notation of infinitesimals, which forms the keystone of Synechism, is
only introduced after a lament over the incapacity, or unworkableness
rather, of finite time, when the duration of consciousness is involved.
If _finite_ time is to come in as a factor—“an idea once past [in the
sense of an event in an individual consciousness] is gone forever, and
any supposed recurrence of it is another idea” (p. 534). And the problem
which Mr. Peirce sets himself to solve is how in effect to bring _back_
this past idea—not vicariously—but in all its pristine freshness, into
the now-time. This is sought to be accomplished by the explanation that
the past idea is “not wholly past, it is only going, less past than any
assignable past date”—and so on through the intricacies of Mr. Peirce’s
infinitesimal theory, into which we need not enter at present. But the
statement of the, supposed, difficulty which finite time presents in this
connection,—the past idea really past and gone, and the recurrence of it
another idea,—if put in a slightly different form, hints a solution, in
continuity with the foregoing pages, without the aid of the infinitesimal
at all. _That an idea is once past and gone_, any occurrence, or
recurrence, of this idea, _is another idea_.[73]
But, in the meantime, let us see what Mr. Peirce has to say regarding
“time and its flow”:
“One of the most marked features about the law of mind is, that
it makes time to have a definite direction of flow from past
to future. The relation of past to future is, in reference
to the law of mind, different from the relation of future to
past. This makes one of the great contrasts between the law
of mind and the law of physical force, where there is no more
distinction between the two opposite directions in time than
between moving northward, and moving southward” (p. 546).
This for once is not very clear. It is difficult to see how “the law of
physical force” can be spoken of as “in time,” to the exclusion of mind;
not easy, also, to understand the distinction further insisted upon. But
the intention is evident, viz., to perpetuate, if not to originate, a
cosmical duality. Time, it would seem, marches indifferently in at least
two directions, though it is not very clear how this is accomplished.
And then the old fiction follows, that “Time, as the universal form of
change, cannot exist unless there is something to undergo change, etc.”
(p. 547.)
The same notation suits in this case as in the foregoing. Time is only
another term in the series. If _a_, _b_, _c_, _d_ be a series, _e_
is the variety, _f_ the whole time involved, and _g_ the individual
intervals. Of course all this is not a simple series, it is an infinitely
complicated one; the above arrangement is only intended to show that
difference, variety, time, etc., are no mysterious entities pervading
events, acting as their “form” or carrying them in their “flow,” but
simply percepts, or concepts, on a level with others.