Are we, then, to believe, that the _feeling_ of extension, or, in other

words, of the definite figure of bodies, is a _simple feeling_ of

touch, _immediate_, _original_, and _independent of time_; or is there

not rather reason to think, as I have endeavoured to show, that it is

a _compound_ feeling, of which _time_, that is to say, our notion of

succession, is an _original element_?

LECTURE XXV.

ON THE DISTINCTION BETWEEN SENSATION AND PERCEPTION,--AND BETWEEN THE

PRIMARY AND SECONDARY QUALITIES OF MATTER.

My last Lecture, Gentlemen, was chiefly employed in considering the

nature of that complex process which takes place in the mind, when

we ascribe the various classes of our sensations to their various

external objects,--to the analysis of which process we were led, by the

importance which Dr Reid has attached to the distinction of _sensation_

and _perception_;--a sensation, as understood by him, being the simple

feeling that immediately follows the action of an external body on any

of our organs of sense, considered merely as a feeling of the mind;

the corresponding perception being a reference of this feeling to the

external body as its cause.

The distinction I allowed to be a convenient one, if the nature of the

complex process which it expresses be rightly understood. The only

question that seemed, philosophically, of importance, with respect

to it, was, whether the _perception_ in this sense,--the reference

of the sensation to its external corporeal cause,--imply, as Dr Reid

contends, a peculiar mental power, coextensive with sensation, to be

distinguished by a peculiar name in the catalogue of our faculties,

or be not merely one of the results of a more general power, which is

afterwards to be considered by us,--the _power of association_,--by

which one feeling suggests, or induces, other feelings that have

formerly coexisted with it.

It would be needless to recapitulate the argument minutely, in its

relation to _all_ the senses. That of smell, which Dr Reid has himself

chosen as an example, will be sufficient for our retrospect.

Certain particles of odorous matter act on my nostrils,--a peculiar

_sensation_ of fragrance arises,--I refer this sensation to a rose.

This reference, which is unquestionably something superadded to the

original sensation itself, is what Dr Reid terms the perception of the

fragrant body. But what is the reference itself, and to what source

is it to be ascribed? That we should have supposed our sensations

to have had a cause of some sort, as we suppose a cause of all our

feelings internal as well as external, may indeed be admitted. But if

I had had no other sense than that of smell,--if I had never _seen_ a

rose,--or, rather, since the knowledge which vision affords is chiefly

of a secondary kind, if I had no mode of becoming acquainted with the

compound of extension and resistance, which the mere sensations of

smell, it is evident, are incapable of affording,--could I have made

this reference of my sensation to a quality of a fragrant body? Could

I, in short, have had more than the mere sensation itself, with that

general belief of a cause of some sort, which is not confined to our

sensations, but is common to them with all our other feelings?

By _mere smell_, as it appears to me, I could not have become

acquainted with the existence of corporeal substances,--in the sense

in which we now understand the term _corporeal_,--nor, consequently,

with the _qualities_ of corporeal substances; and, if so, how could

I have had that perception of which Dr Reid speaks,--that reference

to a fragrant body, of which, as a body, I was before in absolute

ignorance? I should, indeed, have ascribed the sensation to some

cause or antecedent, like every other feeling; but I could as little

have ascribed it to a bodily cause, as any feeling of joy or sorrow.

I refer it now to a _rose_; because, being endowed with _other_

sensitive capacities, I have previously learned, from another source,

the existence of causes without, extended and resisting,--because

I have previously touched or seen a rose, when the sensation of

fragrance coexisted with my visual or tactual sensation; and all

which distinguishes the _perception_ from the mere _sensation_, is

this suggestion of former experience, which reminds me now of other

feelings, with the continuance or cessation of which, in innumerable

former instances, the fragrance itself also continued or ceased.

The perception in short, in smell, taste, hearing, is a sensation

suggesting, by _association_, the notion of some extended and resisting

substance, fragrant, vapid, vibratory,--a notion which smell alone,

taste alone, hearing alone, never could have afforded; but which, when

once received from any other source, may be suggested by these as

readily as any other associate feeling that has frequently coexisted

with them. To the simple primary sensations of _vision_ the same remark

may be applied. A mere sensation of colour could not have made me

acquainted with the existence of bodies, that would resist my effort to

grasp them. It is only in one sense, therefore,--that which affords us

the knowledge of _resistance_,--that any thing like original perception

can be found; and even in this, the process of perception, as I

formerly explained to you, implies no peculiar power, but only common

sensations, with associations and inferences of precisely the same

kind, as those which are continually taking place in all our reasonings

and trains of thought.

_Extension_ and _resistance_, I need scarcely repeat, are the

complex elements of what we term matter; and nothing is matter to

our conception, or a body, to use the simpler synonymous term, which

does not involve these elements. If we had no other sense than that

of smell, and, therefore, could not have referred the sensations to

any fragrant body, what, in Dr Reid's meaning of this term, would the

supposed power of perception, in these circumstances, have been? What

would it have been, in like manner, if we had had only the sense of

taste in sweetness and bitterness,--or of hearing in melody,--or of

vision in colour,--without the capacity of knowing light as a material

substance, or the bodies that vibrated, or the bodies of another

kind that were sweet or bitter? It is only by the sense of touch,

or, at least, by that class of perceptions which Dr Reid ascribes to

touch,--and which, therefore, though traced by us, in part, to another

source, I, for brevity's sake, comprehend under that term in our

present discussion,--it is only by _touch_ that we become acquainted

with those elements which are essential to our very notion of a _body_;

and to touch, therefore, in his own view of it, we must be indebted,

directly or indirectly, as often as we refer the sensations of any

other class to a _corporeal_ cause. Even in the supposed perceptions of

touch itself, however, as we have seen, the reference of our feelings

to an external cause is not demonstrative of any peculiar power of

the mind, to be classed separately from its other faculties. But

when a body is first grasped, in infancy, by fingers that have been

accustomed to contract without being impeded, we learn to consider the

sensation as the result of a cause that is different from our own mind,

because it breaks an accustomed series of feelings, in which all the

antecedents, felt by us at the time, were such as were before uniformly

followed by a different consequent, and were expected, therefore, to

have again their usual consequent. The _cause_ of the new sensation,

which is thus believed to be something different from our sentient

self, is regarded by us as something which has parts, and which resists

our effort, that is to say, as an external body;--because the muscular

feeling, excited by the object grasped is, in the _first_ place,

the very feeling of that which we term resistance; and, _secondly_,

because, by uniformly supplying the place of a definite portion of a

progressive series of feelings, it becomes ultimately representative

of that particular length of series, or number of parts, of which it

thus uniformly supplies the place. Perception, then, even in that class

of feelings by which we learn to consider ourselves as surrounded by

substances extended and resisting, is only another name, as I have

said, for the result of certain associations and inferences that flow

from other more general principles of the mind; and with respect to all

our other sensations, it is only another name for the suggestion of

these very perceptions of touch, or at least of the feelings, tactual

and muscular, which are, by Dr Reid, ascribed to that single sense. If

we had been unsusceptible of these tactual and muscular feelings, and,

consequently, had never conceived the existence of any thing extended

and resisting till the sensation of fragrance, colour, sweetness, or

sound had arisen, we should, after any one or all of these sensations,

have still known as little of bodies without, as if no sensation

whatever had been excited.

The distinction, then, on which Dr Reid has founded so much, involves,

in his view of it, and in the view that is generally taken of it, a

false conception of the nature of the process which he describes.

The two words _sensation_ and _perception_, are, indeed, as I have

already remarked, very convenient for expressing, in one case, the mere

existence of an external feeling,--in the other case, the reference

which the percipient mind has made of this feeling to an external

cause. But this reference is all, which the perception superadds to

the sensation;--and the source of the reference itself we are still

left to seek, in the other principles of our intellectual nature. We

have no need, however, to invent a peculiar power of the mind for

producing it; since there are other principles of our nature, from

which it may readily be supposed to flow,--the principle by which we

are led to believe, that every new consequent, in a train of changes,

must have had a new antecedent of some sort in the train,--and the

principle of association, by which feelings, that have usually

coexisted, suggest or become representative of each other. With these

principles, it certainly is not wonderful, that when the fragrance

of a rose has uniformly affected our sense of smell, as often as the

flower itself was presented to us, we should ascribe the fragrance to

the flower which we have seen and handled;--but though it would not be

wonderful, that we should make it, it would indeed be wonderful, if,

with these principles, we did not make that very reference, for which

Dr Reid thinks it necessary to have recourse to a peculiar faculty of

perception.

Such, then, is the view, which I would take of that distinction of

_sensation_ and _perception_, which Dr Reid, and the philosophers

who have followed him, and many of philosophers, too, that preceded

him,--for the distinction, as I have said, is far from being an

original one,--have understood in a different sense; in consequence,

as I cannot but think, of a defective analysis of the mental process,

which constitutes the reference of our feelings of this class to

_causes_ that are _without_.

There is another distinction, which he has adopted from the

philosophers that preceded him, and which forms an important part of

his system of perception,--a distinction, that is just to a certain

extent,--though not to the full extent, and in the precise manner, in

which he and other writers have maintained;--and with respect to which,

therefore, it will be necessary to point out to you, how far I conceive

it to be safely admissible. I allude to the division, which has been

formed of the _primary_ and _secondary_ qualities of matter.

“Every one knows that extension, divisibility, figure, motion,

solidity, hardness, softness, and fluidity, were by Mr Locke called

primary qualities of body; and that sound, colour, taste, smell,

and heat or cold, were called secondary qualities. Is there a just

foundation for this distinction? Is there any thing common to the

primary, which belongs not to the secondary? And what is it?

“I answer, that there appears to me to be a real foundation for the

distinction; and it is this: That our senses give us a direct and a

distinct notion of the primary qualities, and inform us what they are

in themselves; but of the secondary qualities, our senses give us only

a relative and obscure notion. They inform us only, that they are

qualities that affect us in a certain manner, that is, produce in us a

certain sensation; but as to what they are in themselves, our senses

leave us in the dark.

“The notion we have of primary qualities is direct, and not relative

only. A relative notion of the thing, is, strictly speaking, no notion

of the thing at all, but only of some relation which it bears to

something else.

“Thus gravity sometimes signifies the tendency of bodies towards the

earth; sometimes it signifies the cause of that tendency: When it means

the first, I have a direct and distinct notion of gravity: I see it,

and feel it, and know perfectly what it is; but this tendency must have

a cause: We give the same name to the cause; and that cause has been an

object of thought and of speculation. Now what notion have we of this

cause, when we think and reason about it? It is evident, we think of it

as an unknown cause, of a known effect. This is a relative notion, and

it must be obscure; because it gives us no conception of what the thing

is, but of what relation it bears to something else. Every relation

which a thing unknown bears to something that is known, may give a

relative notion of it; and there are many objects of thought, and of

discourse, of which our faculties can give no better than a relative

notion.

“Having premised these things to explain what is meant by a relative

notion, it is evident, that our notion of primary qualities is not of

this kind; we know what they are, and not barely what relation they

bear to something else.

“It is otherwise with secondary qualities. If you ask me, what is that

quality or modification in a rose which I call its smell, I am at a

loss to answer directly. Upon reflection I find, that I have a distinct

notion of the sensation which it produces in my mind. But there can be

nothing like to this sensation in the rose, because it is insentient.

The quality in the rose is something which occasions the sensations

in me; but what that something is, I know not. My senses give me no

information upon this point. The only notion, therefore, my senses give

is this, That smell in the rose is an unknown quality or modification,

which is the cause or occasion of a sensation which I know well. The

relation which this unknown quality bears to the sensation with which

nature hath connected it, is all I learn from the sense of smelling;

but this is evidently a relative notion. The same reasoning will apply

to every secondary quality.

“Thus I think it appears, that there is a real foundation for the

distinction of primary from secondary qualities; and that they are

distinguished by this, that of the primary we have by our senses a

direct and distinct notion; but of the secondary only a relative

notion, which must, because it is only relative, be obscure; they are

conceived only as the unknown causes or occasions of certain sensations

with which we are well acquainted.”[92]

Though, as I have explained to you fully, in my former Lectures,

we should not,--at least in far the greater number of our

sensations,--have considered them, originally, as proceeding from

external causes, we yet, after the acquisitions of knowledge, with

which the first years of our life enrich us, believe, that there is

an external cause of all our sensations,--of smells and tastes, as

much as of those feelings of the mind, which constitute our notions

of extension and resistance. But the difference, in these cases,

is, that though we _learn_, by experience of certain successions

or co-existences of feelings, to refer to a _corporeal_ cause our

sensations of fragrance, and various other species of sensations,

there is nothing in the sensation of fragrance itself, or in the other

analogous sensations, of which I speak, that might not indicate as much

a cause directly spiritual, as a cause like that to which we at present

give the name of _body_,--while the very notion of extension and

resistance combined, seems necessarily to indicate a material cause, or

rather is truly that which constitutes our very notion of matter.

We believe, indeed, that our sensations of fragrance, sweetness, sound,

have causes of some sort, as truly as we believe, that our feelings

of extension and resistance have a cause, or causes of some sort; but

if we have previously given the name of matter, with direct reference

to the one set of effects, and not with direct reference to the other,

it necessarily follows, that, in relation to matter, as often as we

speak or think of it, the qualities which correspond with the one set

of effects, that have led us to use that name, must be regarded by us

as primary, and the others, which may, or may not coexist with these,

only as secondary. An external body may, or may not be fragrant,

because fragrance is not one of the qualities previously included by us

in our definition of a body; but it _must_ be _extended_, and present

an obstacle to our compressing force, because these are the very

qualities, which we have included in our definition, and without which,

therefore, the definition must cease to be applicable to the thing

defined.

If, originally, we had invented the word _matter_ to denote the cause,

whatever it might be, of our sensations of smell, it is very evident,

that _fragrance_ would then have been to us the primary quality of

_matter_, as being that which was essential to our definition of

matter,--and all other qualities, by which the cause of smell might,

or might not at the same time affect our other senses, would then have

been _secondary_ qualities only,--as being qualities compatible with

our definition of matter, but not essential to it.

What we now term matter, however, I have repeatedly observed,--is that

which we consider as _occupying space_, and _resisting our effort to

compress it_; and those qualities of matter may well be said to be

primary, by which matter itself, as thus defined, becomes known to

us,--or by the union of which, in our conception, we form the complex

notion of matter, and give or withhold that name according as these

qualities are present or absent. Extension and resistance are the

distinguishing qualities that direct us in all our applications of

the word which comprehends them. They are truly _primary_ qualities,

therefore; since, without our consideration of them, we never could

have formed the complex notion of the substance itself, to which we

afterwards, in our analysis of that complex notion, ascribe them

separately as qualities;--and all the other qualities, which we may

afterwards find occasion to refer to an extended resisting substance,

must evidently be secondary, in reference to those qualities, without

which as previously combined in our thought, we could not have had

the primary notion of the substance to which we thus secondarily refer

them. If, in the case which we have already frequently imagined, of the

single sense of smell, we had been absolutely unsusceptible of every

other external feeling, we might, indeed, have considered our sensation

as the effect of _some_ cause,--and even of a cause that was different

from our mind itself; but it is very evident that we could not have

considered it as the effect of the presence of _matter_, at least as

that term is now understood by us. If, in these circumstances,--after

frequent repetition of the fragrance, as the only quality of bodies

with which we could be acquainted,--we were to acquire in an instant

all the other senses which we now possess,--so as to become capable

of forming that complex notion of things extended and resisting,

which is our present notion of matter, we should then, indeed, have a

fuller notion of the rose, of the mere fragrance of which we before

were sensible, without knowing of what it was the fragrance, and might

learn to refer the fragrance to the rose, by the same coexistences of

sensations which have led us, in our present circumstances, to combine

the fragrance with other qualities, in the complex conception of the

flower. Even then, however, though the fragrance, which was our first

sensation, had truly been known to us before the other qualities, and

though the sensation, therefore, would deserve the name of primary,

the _reference_ of this earlier feeling to the external rose as its

cause, would still truly be _secondary_ to the earlier reference, or

rather to the earlier combination of other qualities, in one complex

whole, by which we had formed to ourselves the notion of the extended

and resisting rose, as a body, that admitted the subsequent reference

of the delightful sensation of fragrance to be made to it, as the equal

cause of these different effects.

In this sense, then, the distinction of the primary and secondary

qualities of matter is just,--that, whatever qualities we refer to a

_material_ cause must be, in reference, secondary to those qualities

that are essential to our very notion of the body, to which the

subsequent reference of the other qualities is made. We have formed our

definition of matter; and, as in every other definition of every sort,

the qualities included in the definition, must always, in comparison

of other qualities, be primary and essential, relatively to the thing

defined.

Nor is this all.--It will be admitted likewise, that the qualities

termed _primary_,--which alone are included in our general definitions

of matter, and which are all, as we have seen, modifications of mere

extension and resistance, are, even after we have learned to consider

the causes of all our sensations as substances external to the mind,

still felt by us to be external, with more clearness and vividness,

than the other qualities, which we term _secondary_. The difference

is partly, and chiefly, in the nature of the sensations themselves,

as already explained to you, but depends also, I conceive, in no

inconsiderable degree, on the permanence and universality of the

objects which possess the primary qualities, and the readiness with

which we can renew our feeling of them at will, from the constant

presence of our own bodily frame, itself extended and resisting, and of

the other causes of these feelings of extension and resistance, that

seem to be every where surrounding us. Tastes, smells, sounds,--even

colours though more lasting than these--are not always before us;--but

there is not a moment at which we cannot, by the mere stretching of

our hand, produce at pleasure, the feeling of something extended and

resisting. It is a very natural effect of this difference, that the one

set of causes which are always before us, should seem to us, therefore,

peculiarly permanent, and the other set, that are only occasionally

present, should seem almost as fugitive as our sensations themselves.

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