confuting the universal, or even general illusion of philosophers,
with respect to ideas in the mind, as images or separate things,
distinct from the perception itself; that his own opinions as to
perception on this point at least, are precisely the same, as those
which generally prevailed before. From the time of the decay of the
Peripatetic Philosophy, the process of perception was generally
considered, as involving nothing more, than the presence of an external
object--an organic change or series of changes--and an affection of
the mind immediately subsequent,--without the intervention of any
idea as a fourth separate thing between the organic and the mental
affection. I have no doubt, that,--with the exception of Berkeley
and Malebranche,--who had peculiar and very erroneous notions on the
subject, all the philosophers whom Dr Reid considered himself as
opposing, would, if they had been questioned by him, have admitted,
before they heard a single argument on his part, that their opinions,
with respect to ideas were precisely the same as his own;--and what
then would have remained for him to confute? He might, indeed, still
have said, that it was absurd, in those who considered perception as
a mere state or modification of the mind, to speak of ideas in their
mind: but the very language, used by him for this purpose, would
probably have contained some metaphor as little philosophic. We must
still allow men to speak of ideas in their mind, if they will only
consent to believe that the ideas are truly the mind itself variously
affected;--as we must still allow men to talk of the rising and setting
of the sun, if they will only admit that the motion which produces
those appearances is not in that majestic and tranquil orb, but in our
little globe of earth, which, carrying along with it, in its daily
revolution, all our busy wisdom and still busier folly, is itself as
restless as its restless inhabitants.
That a mind, so vigorous as that of Dr Reid, should have been
capable of the series of misconceptions which we have traced, may
seem wonderful, and truly is so; and equally, or rather, still more
wonderful, is the general admission of his merit in this respect. I
trust it will impress you with _one_ important lesson,--which could
not be taught more forcibly than by errors of so great a mind,--that
it will always be necessary for you to consult the opinions of
authors,--when their opinions are of sufficient importance to deserve
to be accurately studied--in their _own works_ and not in the works
of those who profess to give a faithful account of them. From my own
experience, I can most truly assure you, that there is scarcely an
instance, in which, on examining the works of those authors whom it
is the custom more to cite than to read, I have found the view which
I had received of them to be faithful. There is usually something
more or something less, which modifies the general result,--some mere
conjecture represented as an absolute affirmation, or some limited
affirmation extended to analogous cases, which it was not meant to
comprehend. And, by the various additions or subtractions, thus made,
in passing from mind to mind, so much of the spirit of the original
doctrine is lost, that it may, in some cases, be considered as having
made a fortunate escape, if it be not at last represented, as directly
opposite to what it is. It is like those engraved portraits of the
eminent men of former ages,--the copies of mere copies,--from which
every new artist, in the succession, has _taken_ something, or to which
he has _added_ something, till not a lineament remains the same. If we
are truly desirous of a faithful likeness, we must have recourse once
more to the original painting.
FOOTNOTES:
[93] On the Intellectual Powers, Essay II. chap. xii.
[94] Essay concerning Human Understanding, B. ii. chap. i. sect. 9.
[95] Sect. 3.
[96] Sect. 12.
[97] Essay concerning Human Understanding, B. ii. chap. x. sect, 2.
[98] On Hobbes and his Writings, v. 37-40.--Works, p. 180. 4to Edit.
[99] Elementa Philosophiæ, Pars IV. c. xxv. sect. 3.
[100] On the Intellectual Powers, Essay II. c. 8.
[101] Ibid.
[102] Ibid.
[103] Principia Philosophiæ, Pars IV. Sect. 196.--p. 190, 191. Amst.
1664.
[104] On the Intellectual Powers, Essay II. c. 8.
[105] Clerici Pneumatologia, Sect. i. cap. v. subsect. 10.
[106] Tentamen Novum Metaphysicum, Sect. xxxvii.--_Groningæ_, 1725.
LECTURE XXVII.
EXAMINATION OF DR REID'S SUPPOSED CONFUTATION OF IDEALISM, CONCLUDED.
My last Lecture, Gentlemen, brought to a conclusion the remarks which I
had to offer on the Sense of Touch, and particularly on the manner in
which I supposed the mind to acquire its knowledge of external things.
With this very important question of the existence of matter, the name
of Dr Reid is intimately connected, to whom the highest praise is
usually given, for his supposed confutation of all scepticism on the
subject; as if he had truly established, _by argument_, the existence
of a material world. And yet, I confess, that with all my respect for
that excellent philosopher, I do not discover, in his reasonings on the
subject, any ground for the praise which has been given. The evidence
for a system of external things,--at least, the sort of evidence for
which he contends,--was not merely the same, but was felt also to be
precisely the same, before he wrote as afterwards. Nay, I may add, that
the force of the evidence,--if that term can be justly applied to this
species of belief,--was admitted, in its fullest extent, by the very
sceptic, against whom chiefly his arguments were directed.
That Dr Reid was a philosopher of no common rank, every one, who has
read his works with attention, and with candour, must admit. It is
impossible to deny, that, to great power of patient investigation,
in whatever inquiries he undertook, he united great caution, in
discriminating the objects of legitimate inquiry, together with
considerable acuteness, of the same sage and temperate kind, in
the prosecution of such inquiries as appeared to him legitimate.
And,--which is a praise, that, unfortunately for mankind, and still
more unfortunately for the individual, does not always attend mere
intellectual renown,--it is impossible to deny to him the more
covetable glory, that his efforts, even when he erred speculatively,
had always in view those great interests, to which, and to which alone,
philosophy itself is but a secondary consideration,--the primary and
essential interests of religion and morality.
These praises are certainly not higher than his merits. But, at the
same time, while by philosophers in one part of the island, his merits
seem to have been unjustly undervalued, I cannot but think also,
that, in his own country, there has been an equal or rather a far
greater tendency to over-rate them,--a tendency arising in part from
the influence of his academic situation, and his amiable personal
character--partly, and in a very high degree, from the general regard
for the moral and religious objects which he uniformly had in view, as
contrasted with the consequences that are supposed to flow from some
of the principles of the philosopher, whose opinions he particularly
combated--and partly also, I may add, from the eloquence of his
Illustrious Pupil, and Friend, and Biographer, whose understanding,
so little liable to be biassed by any prejudices but those of virtue
and affectionate friendship, has yet, perhaps, been influenced in some
degree by those happy and noble prejudices of the heart, and who, by
the persuasive charms both of his Lectures and of his Writings, could
not fail to cast, on any system of opinions which he might adopt and
exhibit, some splendour of reflection from the brilliancy of his own
mind.
The genius of Dr Reid does not appear to me to have been very
inventive, nor to have possessed much of that refined and subtile
acuteness, which,--capable as it is of being abused,--is yet absolutely
necessary to the perfection of metaphysical analysis.
It is chiefly on his opinions, in relation to the subject at present
under our view, that his reputation as an _original thinker_ rests.
Indeed, it is on these that he has inclined himself to rest it. In
a part of a letter to Dr Gregory, preserved in Mr Stewart's Memoir,
he considers his confutation of the ideal system of perception, as
involving almost every thing which is truly his. “I think there is
hardly any thing that can be called mine,” he says, “in the philosophy
of mind, which does not follow with ease from the detection of this
prejudice.”[107] Yet there are few circumstances, connected with the
fortune of modern philosophy, that appear to me more wonderful, than
that a mind, like Dr Reid's, so learned in the history of metaphysical
science,--and far too honourable to lay claim to praise to which he did
not think himself fairly entitled,--should have conceived, that, on
the point of which he speaks, any great merit--at least any merit of
originality--was justly referable to him particularly. Indeed, the only
circumstance, which appears to me more wonderful, is, that the claim
thus made by him, should have been so readily and generally admitted.
His supposed confutation of the ideal system is resolvable into two
parts--_first_, his attempt to overthrow what he terms “the common
theory” of _ideas_ or images of things in the mind, as the immediate
objects of thought--and _secondly_, the evidence which the simpler
theory of perception may be supposed to yield, of the _reality_ of an
external world. The latter of these inquiries would, in order, be more
appropriate to our late train of speculation; but we cannot understand
it fully, without some previous attention to the former.
That Dr Reid _did_ question the theory of ideas or images, as separate
existences in the mind, I readily admit; but I cannot allow, that,
in doing this, he questioned the _common_ theory. On the contrary, I
conceive, that, at the time at which he wrote, the theory had been
universally, or at least almost universally, abandoned; and that,
though philosophers might have been in the habit of speaking of ideas
or images in the mind,--as we continue to speak of them at this
moment,--they meant them to denote nothing more _then_, than we use
them to denote _now_. The phraseology of any system of opinions, which
has spread widely, and for a length of time, does not perish with the
system itself. It is transmitted from the system which expires, to
the system which begins to reign,--very nearly as the same crown and
sceptre pass, through a long succession, from monarch to monarch. To
tear away our very language, as well as our belief, is more than the
boldest introducer of new doctrines can hope to be permitted, for it
would be to force our ignorance or errors too glaringly on our view.
He finds it easier, to seduce our vanity, by leaving us something which
we can still call _our own_, and which it is not very difficult for
him to accommodate to his own views; so that, while he allows us to
pronounce the same words, with the same confidence, we are sensible
only of what we have gained, and are not painfully reminded of what
we have been forced to discard. By this, too, he has the advantage of
adding, in some measure, to his own novelties the weight and importance
of ancient authority; since the feelings, associated with the name
as formerly used, are transferred, secretly and imperceptibly, with
the name itself. There is scarcely a term in popular science, which
has not gone through various transmutations of this sort. It is not
wonderful, therefore, that the phrase _image in the mind_, which was no
metaphor as used by the Peripatetics, should have been retained, in a
figurative sense, in metaphysical discussions, long after the authority
of Aristotle had ceased, and when one who could maintain, with a square
cap on his head, “a thesis on the universal _a parti rei_,” was no
longer, as Voltaire says, “considered as a prodigy.” At the time of
Dr Reid's publication, the _image in the mind_ was as truly a mere
relic of an obsolete theory of perception, as the rising and setting
of the sun were relics of that obsolete astronomy, in which this great
luminary was supposed to make his daily journey, round the atom which
he enlightened.
Before proceeding to the proof of this assertion, however, with respect
to the originality and importance of Dr Reid's remarks on this subject,
some previous observations will be necessary.
In the discussions, which, as yet, have engaged our attention, you may,
perhaps, have remarked that I have made little, if any, use of the
word _idea_,--a word of very frequent occurrence, in the speculations
of philosophers, with respect to the phenomena of perception, and
the intellectual phenomena in general. I have avoided it, partly on
account of its general ambiguity, but, more especially, with a view to
the question at present before us, that, on examining it, you might
be as free as possible, from any prejudice, arising from our former
applications of the term.
The term, I conceive, though convenient for its brief expression of a
variety of phenomena, which might otherwise require a more paraphrastic
expression, might yet be omitted altogether, in the metaphysical
vocabulary, without any great inconvenience,--certainly without
inconvenience, equal to that which arises from the ambiguous use of it,
with different senses, by different authors. But, whatever ambiguity
it may have had, the notion of it, as an image in the mind separate
and distinct from the mind itself, had certainly been given up, long
before Dr Reid had published a single remark on the subject. In its
present general use, it is applied to many species of the mental
phenomena, to our particular sensations or perceptions, simple or
complex, to the remembrances of these, either as simple or complex, and
to the various compositions or decompositions of these, which result
from certain intellectual processes of the mind itself. The presence
of certain rays of light, for example, at the retina, is followed
by a certain affection of the sensorial organ, which is immediately
followed by a certain affection of the sentient mind. This particular
affection, which is more strictly and definitely termed the sensation
or perception of redness, is likewise sometimes termed, when we speak
more in reference to the external light, which causes the sensation,
than to ourselves, as sentient of it, an idea of redness; and when, in
some train of internal thought, without the renewed presence of the
rays, a certain state of the mind arises, different, indeed, from the
former, but having a considerable resemblance to it, we term this state
the conception or remembrance of redness, or the idea of redness; or,
combining this particular idea with others, which have not co-existed
with it as a sensation, we form, what we term the complex idea, of a
red tree, or a red mountain, or some other of those shadowy forms, over
which Fancy, in the moment of creating them, flings, at pleasure, her
changeful colouring. An _idea_, however, in all these applications of
the term, whether it be a perception, a remembrance, or one of those
complex or abstract varieties of conception, is still nothing more than
the mind affected in a certain manner, or, which is the same theory,
the mind existing in a certain state. The idea is not distinct from the
mind, or separable from it, in any sense, but is truly the mind itself,
which in its very belief of external things, is still recognizing one
of the many forms of its own existence.
“Qualis Hamadryadum, quondam, si forte sororum
Una novos peragrans saltus et devia rura,
(Atque illam in viridi suadet procumbere ripa
Fontis pura quies et opaci frigoris umbra)
Dum prona in latices speculi de margine pendet,
Mirata est subitam venienti occurrere Nympham;
Mox eosdem quos ipsa artus, eadem ora gerentem
Una inferre gradus, una succedere sylvæ,
Aspicit alludens, seseque agnoscit in undis.
Sic sensu interno rerum simulacra suarum
Mens ciet, et proprios observat conscia vultus.”[108]
In sensation, there is, as we have seen, a certain series,--the
presence of the external body, whatever this may be in itself,
independently of our perception,--the organic affection, whatever it
may be, which attends the presence of this body,--and the affection of
mind that is immediately subsequent to the organic affection. I speak
only of _one_ organic affection; because, with respect to the mind, it
is of no consequence whether there be one only, or a series of these,
prior to the new mental state induced. It is enough, that, whenever
the immediate sensorial organ has begun to exist in a certain state,
whether the change which produces this state be single, or second,
third, fourth, or fifth, of a succession of changes, the mind is
instantly affected in a certain manner. This new mental state induced
is sensation.
But, says Dr Reid, the _sensation_ is accompanied with a _perception_,
which is very different from it; and on this difference of sensation
and perception is founded the chief part of his system. The distinction
thus made by him, has been commonly, though very falsely, considered
as original; the radical difference itself, whether accurate or
inaccurate, and the minor distinctions founded upon this, being laid
down with precision in some of the common elementary works of logic, of
a much earlier period.
“When I smell a rose,” he says, “there is in this operation both
sensation and perception. The agreeable odour I feel, considered by
itself, without relation to any external object, is merely a sensation.
It affects the mind in a certain way; and this affection of the mind
may be conceived, without a thought of the rose, or any other object.
This sensation can be nothing else than it is felt to be. Its very
essence consists in being felt; and when it is not felt, it is not.
There is no difference between the sensation and the feeling of it;
they are one and the same thing. It is for this reason, that we before
observed, that, in sensation, there is no object distinct from that
act of the mind by which it is felt; and this holds true with regard to
all sensations.
“Let us next attend to the perception which we have in smelling a
rose. Perception has always an external object; and the object of my
perception, in this case, is that quality in the rose which I discern
by the sense of smell. Observing that the agreeable sensation is raised
when the rose is near, and ceases when it is removed, I am led, by my
nature, to conclude some quality to be in the rose, which is the cause
of this sensation. This quality in the rose is the object perceived;
and that act of my mind, by which I have the conviction and belief of
this quality, is what in this case I call perception.”[109]
That the reference to an external object is, in this case, something
more than the mere sensation itself, is very evident; the only question
is, whether it be necessary to ascribe the reference to a peculiar
power termed perception, or whether it be not rather the result of a
common and more general principle of the mind.
When I smell a rose, that is to say, when certain odorous particles
act on my organ of smell, a certain state of mind is produced, which
constitutes the sensation of that particular fragrance; and this is
all which can justly be ascribed to the mind as simply _sentient_.
But the mind is not sensitive merely, in the strict sense of that
term, for there are many states of it, which do not depend on the
immediate presence of external objects. Those feelings, of any kind,
which have before existed, together, or in trains of succession, arise
afterwards, as it were spontaneously, in consequence merely of the
existence of some other part of the train. When the fragrance of a
rose, therefore, has been frequently accompanied with the sensations
of vision, that arise, when a rose is before us, with the muscular and
tactual sensations, that arise on handling it, the mere fragrance, of
itself, will afterwards suggest these sensations, and this suggestion
is all, which, in the case of smell, instanced by Dr Reid, is termed
the perception, as distinguished from the mere sensation. We ascribe
the fragrance to the unseen external rose, precisely in the same manner
as we ascribe smoke and ashes to previous combustion; or, from a
portrait, or a pictured landscape, infer the existence of some artist
who painted it. Yet, in inferring the artist from the picture, it is
surely not to any mere power of sense, that we ascribe the inference,
and as little should we trace to any such simple power, what is in
this instance termed perception. The perception is a suggestion of
memory, combined with the simple sensation. There are not, in ascribing
the smell to odorous particles of a rose, as its cause, sensation,
perception, and association or suggestion, as three powers or general
principles of the mind. But there are sensation and the associate
suggestion; and, when these coexist, perception coexists, because
perception is the name which we give to the union of the former two.
There is, indeed, the belief of some cause of the sensation, as there
is a belief of some cause of every feeling of the mind, internal as
well as external; but the cause, in the case of smell, is supposed to
be external, and corporeal, merely because the presence of an external
rose has been previously learned from another source, and is suggested
when the sensation of fragrance recurs, in intimate association.
In the case of _taste_, to proceed to our other senses--the perception,
as it is termed by Dr Reid, is precisely of the same kind--a mere
reference of association. We have previously learned, from other
sources, to believe in things without, and these, as sapid bodies
acting on our tongue, are suggested by the mere sensation, which, but
for the means of this suggestion, would have been a sensation alone, of
which the cause would have been as little conceived to be corporeal as
the causes of any of the internal affections of the mind. The melody
of a flute, if we had had no sense but that of hearing--the redness of
a rose, if we had had no sense but that of vision, would as little,
as the sensation of smell when considered as a transient state of the
mind, have involved, or given occasion to, the notion of corporeal
substance. We refer the melody to the external flute, and redness to
the external rose, because we have previously acquired the notions
of extension and resistance--of a flute and of a rose as external
substances--and this reference of mere suggestion is all, which, in
these cases, distinguishes the perception from the sensation. Without
the suggestions of memory, in short, we could not in these cases have
had, in Dr Reid's sense of the term, any perceptions whatever, to
distinguish the causes of our sensations as external, more than the
causes of any of our other feelings. The great perception, then, in the
sense, in which he understands the term, is that by which we primarily
form the complex notion of extension and resistance--that which has
parts, and that which resists our attempt to grasp it--since all the
other perceptions, of which he speaks, in contradistinction from
mere sensations, are only these complex notions, _suggested_ by the
particular sensations, and combined with them, in consequence of former
association, and the general reference to a cause of some sort, which
may be supposed to attend our feelings of every kind, internal as well
as external, when considered as changes or new phenomena. It is not,
however, from any peculiar power, to be distinguished by the name of
perception, that this complex notion of extended resistance appears to
me to arise, but from the union of our notion of _extension_, acquired
by the mere remembrance of various progressive series of feelings,
with the notion of _resistance_, when an accustomed series of muscular
feelings without any change of circumstances, in the mind itself, is
interrupted by that peculiar and very different muscular feeling which
arises from impeded effort. Perception, in short, in all our senses, is
nothing more than the association of this complex notion with our other
sensations--the notion of something extended and resisting, suggested
by these sensations, when the sensations themselves have previously
arisen; and suggested in the same manner, and on the same principle, as
any other associate feeling suggests any other associate feeling.