CHAPTER VIII.

UNIVERSAL IDENTITY.

85. In order to give unity to science, some appeal to universal

identity; this, however, is not to discover unity, but to take refuge

in chaos. Universal identity is not only an absurdity, but a groundless

hypothesis. Excepting the unity of consciousness, we find in ourselves

nothing that is one; but multiplicity of ideas, perceptions, judgments,

acts of the will, impressions of various kinds; and in relation to

external objects, we perceive multitude in the beings which surround

us, or as some pretend, in their appearances. Where then are unity and

identity, for we can neither find them within nor without ourselves?

86. If it be said that nothing is offered to us but phenomena, and

that we do not attain to the reality, the absolute and identical

unity hidden beneath them, we can reply with this dilemma: either our

experience is confined to phenomena, or it reaches the very nature

of things: if the former, we cannot know what is concealed under the

phenomena, nor absolute and identical unity; if the latter, then nature

is not one but multiplex, for we everywhere encounter multiplicity.

87. It is curious to observe how easily men, the most skeptical in the

simplest things, suddenly become dogmatic at the very point where the

greatest motives of doubt are presented. With them the external world

is either a pure appearance, or a being having no resemblance to the

conception formed of it by the human race: the criterion of evidence,

that of consciousness, and that of common sense have little power to

command assent: the crowd alone should be satisfied with such weak

foundations; the philosopher demands others far more solid. But strange

as it may seem, the very philosopher who styled reality a deceitful

appearance, and saw obscurity in what the human race considered

luminous, so soon as he quitted the world of phenomena and arrived in

the dominions of the absolute, finds himself illumined by a mysterious

splendor, he requires no discussion, but by a most pure intuition, he

sees the unconditioned, the infinite, the one in which every thing

multiplex is involved, the great reality, the basis of all phenomena,

the great All which re-unites in its breast all existences, re-assumes

every thing, and absorbs every thing into most perfect identity. He

fixes his philosophic eye upon this focus of light and life, sees

it roll out like the ocean of existence in vast billows, and thus

explains what is various by what is one, the composite by the simple,

the finite by the infinite. All these prodigies do not require him to

leave himself; he has only to go on destroying all that is empirical,

to ascend even to pure act by mysterious by-paths unknown to all

except himself. This _me_, which may have believed itself an existence

perishable and dependent on another superior existence, is astounded

at finding itself so great; it discovers in itself the origin of all

beings, or, more correctly speaking, the only being, of which all

others are but phenomenal existences; it is the universe itself become

by a gradual development conscious of itself: whatever is without

itself, and at first appears distinct, is only itself, a reflection of

itself, presented to its eyes, and unfolded under a thousand different

forms like a magnificent panorama.

Let not the reader think we have imagined a system for the sake of

combatting it; the doctrine which we have here exposed, is the doctrine

of Schelling.

88. One cause of this error is the obscurity of the problem of knowing.

To know, is an immanent action, having, at the same time, relation to

an external object, excepting those cases in which the intelligent

being becomes, by a reflex act, its own object. In order to know a

truth, whatever it may be, the mind does not quit itself; it does not

operate beyond itself; its own consciousness tells it that it remains,

and that its activity is developed, within itself.

This immanent action extends to objects the most distant in time and

place, and the most unlike in their nature. How is the mind to come in

contact with them? How is it to ascertain whether their representation

conforms to reality? There can be no cognition without this

representation; without conformity, there is no truth, cognition is a

pure illusion to which nothing corresponds, and the human understanding

is unceasingly the sport of vain appearances.

Undeniably this problem is liable to very serious difficulties, which

perhaps the science of man, while in this life, cannot solve. Here

arise all the ideological and psychological questions ever treated by

the most eminent metaphysicians. However, as it is not our intention

to anticipate what is to be hereafter considered, we shall confine

ourselves to the point of view indicated by our present question of

certainty and its fundamental principle.

89. Consciousness attests the fact of representation; without this

there is no thought; and the affirmation _I think_ is, if not the

origin of all philosophy, at least its indispensable condition.

90. Whence comes the representation? How is a being placed in such

communication with other beings, and this not by a transient but by an

immanent act? How explain the conformity between the representation

and the object? Does not this mystery indicate that there is unity,

identity, at the bottom of all things, that the being which knows, is

the very being known, which appears to itself under a distinct form,

and that what we call realities are only phenomena of one and the

same being, always identical, infinitely active, which develops its

strength in various ways, and forms by its development what we call the

universe? No! This neither is nor can be! It is an absurdity which the

most extravagant reason cannot accept: it is a resource as desperate as

it is impotent to explain a mystery, if you will, but one a thousand

times less obscure than the system which pretends to clear it up.

91. Universal identity explains nothing, but greatly confuses

everything; it does not dissipate the difficulty, but strengthens it,

and renders it insolvable. It certainly is no easy matter to explain

how the mind obtains the representation of things distinct from itself;

but it is no easier to show how the mind can have the representation of

itself. If there is unity, complete identity between the subject and

the object, how are the two presented to us as distinct things? How can

duality proceed from unity, or diversity spring from identity?

It is a fact testified by experience, not the experience of external

objects, but that of consciousness, by that which is most hidden in

our soul, that there is in every cognition a subject and an object,

perception and the thing perceived, and without this difference the

act is not possible. Even when by an effort of reflection, we take

ourselves for our own object, the duality appears; if it does not

exist, we imagine it, for without this fiction we cannot think.

92. Even in the most intimate and concentrated reflection, duality,

upon careful examination, is to be found, not by fiction, as it might

seem at first sight, but in reality. When the understanding turns

upon itself, it does not see its own essence, for it has no direct

intuition of itself: it sees its acts, and these it takes for its

object. The reflex act is not the act reflected. When I think that I

think, the first thought is distinct from the second, and so distinct

that one succeeds the other, for the reflective thought can exist only

subsequently to the thought reflected.

93. This is confirmed by a profound analysis of reflection. Is

reflection possible without an object reflected upon? Evidently not.

What is this object in the present case? The thought itself: then this

thought must have preceded the reflection. If it be supposed that they

must not of necessity follow in different instants of time, and that

the dependence is saved, notwithstanding the simultaneousness, still

the force of the argument is not lost; we grant, but do not concede,

that the simultaneousness is possible; but the dependence at least is

not possible without distinction. Dependence is a relation; relation

supposes opposition of extremes; and this opposition draws with it

distinction.

94. That these acts are distinct, although simultaneous, may be

demonstrated in another manner. One of them, that reflected upon, may

exist without the reflex act. We continually think, without thinking

that we think; and the same may be proved true of every reflection

whatever, whether it is occupied with the act thought, or it disappears

and leaves only the direct act: these acts are, therefore, not only

distinct but separable; therefore, the duality of the subject and the

object exists not only in the external world, but also in that which is

the most intimate and pure in our soul.

95. It avails not to say that the object of reflection is not any

determinate act, but thought in general. This is in many cases false;

for we not only think that we think, but that we think a determinate

thing. Moreover, although the object of reflection is sometimes thought

in general, not even then does the duality disappear: in that case

the subjective act is an individual act, existing in a determinate

instant of time, and its object is thought in general, that is, an

idea representative of all thought, an idea which involves a sort

of confused recollection of all past acts, or of what is called

activity, intellectual force. The duality then exists more evidently,

if possible, than when the object is a determinate thought. In one

instance at least two individual acts are compared; but in this case

an individual act is compared with an abstract idea, a thing existing

in one instant of time with an idea that either abstracts it, or

confusedly embraces all that has passed since the epoch when the

consciousness of the reflecting being commenced.

96. These arguments have much greater weight when directed against

those philosophers who place the essence of the mind not in the power

of thinking but in thought itself; who give to the _me_ no other

existence than what springs from its own knowledge, affirming that

it exists only because it _supposes_ itself, by knowing itself, and

only in so far as it _supposes_ itself, that is, in so far as it knows

itself. With this system there is duality, or rather plurality, not

only in the acts, but even in the _me_ itself; because this _me_ is an

act, and acts follow like a series of fluxions developed to infinity.

Thus, far from saving the unity and identity of subject and object,

plurality and multiplicity are established in the subject itself; and

the unity of consciousness itself, in danger of being broken by the

cavils of philosophers, is forced to take refuge in the obscurity of

invincible nature.

97. We have thus incontestably proved that there is in us a duality

of subject and object, that without it knowledge is inconceivable,

and that representation itself is a contradiction unless in one

sense or another we admit things really distinct in the recesses of

intelligence. We beg to observe that we have a sublime type of this

distinction in the august mystery of the Trinity, the fundamental dogma

of our holy religion, covered, indeed, with an impenetrable veil, but

which sends forth light to illustrate the profoundest questions of

philosophy. This mystery is not explained by feeble man, but is for him

a sublime explanation. Thus Plato availed himself of glimmerings from

this focus as a treasure of immense value to philosophical theories;

thus the Holy Fathers and theologians, in endeavoring to throw some

light upon it by arguments of congruity, have illustrated the most

occult mysteries of human thought.

98. The upholders of universal identity, besides contradicting a

primitive and fundamental fact of consciousness, signally fail in

their efforts to explain by it either the origin of intellectual

representation or its conformity to its object. Evidently no man has

an intuition of the nature of the individual _me_, and still less of

the absolute being which these philosophers suppose as the _substratum_

of whatever exists or appears. It is impossible for them to explain _a

priori_, without this intuition, the representation of objects or their

conformity to the representation. The fact, therefore, on which they

would base their whole philosophy, either does not exist, or is unknown

to us: in neither case can it serve as the foundation of a system.

Were this fact to exist, it could not be presented to our mind by

any enunciation to which we could arrive by reasoning. It must be

seen rather than known; either occupy the first place or none. If we

begin to reason without taking this fact for our basis, we start from

the apparent in order to attain to what truly is; we make use of an

illusion to arrive at reality. Thus it evidently follows from the

system of our adversaries that philosophy must either start with the

most powerful intuition, or else it cannot advance a single step.

99. The schools distinguish between the principle of being and the

principle of knowledge, _principium essendi et principium cognoscendi_;

but this distinction has no place in the system which we oppose; being

is there confounded with knowledge; what exists, exists because it is

known, and it exists only in so far as it is known. To draw out the

series of cognitions, is to develop the series of existences. They

are not even two parallel movements; they are but one movement; the

_me_ is the universe, and the universe is the _me_; whatever exists

is a development of the primitive fact, is the fact itself which is

displayed under different forms, extending like an infinite ocean; its

position is unlimited space; its duration eternity.(8)

Fundamental Philosophy, Vol. 1 (of 2) · 第 8 / 38 章