THE CRITERION OF COMMON SENSE.
313. _Common sense_ is an exceedingly vague expression. It should,
like all expressions which contain many and different ideas, be
considered under two aspects: that of its etymological, and that of
its real value. These two values are not always the same; they are
sometimes greatly discrepant; but even in their discrepancy, they
usually preserve intimate relations. We must not, in order duly to
appreciate the meaning of such expressions, confine ourselves to their
philosophical, and contemn their vulgar meaning. In the latter there is
often a profound philosophy; for, in such cases, the vulgar sense is
a kind of precious sediment left by the flow of reason upon the word
during many ages. It thus happens that in measure, as the vulgar sense
is understood and analyzed, the philosophical question is determined,
and the most intricate questions solved with the greatest facility.
314. It is remarkable, that besides the corporal senses there should be
another, called _common sense_. _Sense_: This word excludes reflection,
all reasoning, all combination; nothing of this kind enters into the
meaning of the word _to sense_. When we sense, the mind is rather
passive than active; it does nothing of itself; it does not give, it
receives; it suffers, but does not perform, an action. This analysis
leads us to a very important result, and this is, the separation from
common sense of all that upon which the mind exercises its activity;
and the determination of one character of this criterion, which is,
with respect to common sense; the understanding has nothing to do but
submit itself to a law _perceived_, to an instinctive and unavoidable
necessity.
315. _Common_: This word excludes all individuality, and shows the
object of common sense to be general to all men.
The simple facts of consciousness are facts of sense, but not of
common sense; the mind feels them when it abstracts objectiveness
and generality; what it experiences within itself is an experience
exclusively its own, and one which has no connection with others.
The word _common_ shows the objects of this criterion to be common
to all men, and consequently referable to the objective order, since
the purely subjective, as such, is limited to the individual, and in
no wise affects what is general. So exact is this observation, that
in ordinary language no internal phenomenon, however extravagant, is
ever said to be opposed to common sense, provided it be expressed
simply with abstraction from its relation to the object. If a man says:
I experience such or such a sensation, I seem to see such or such a
thing, common sense is not against him; but if he says, such or such
a thing is in such a manner, and the assertion is extravagant, it is
against him, for this is contrary to common sense.
316. I believe the expression _common sense_ to denote a law of our
mind, apparently differing according to the different cases to which
it applies, but in reality and apart from its modifications, only
one, always the same, consisting in a natural inclination of our mind
to give its assent to some truths not attested by consciousness nor
demonstrated by reason, necessary to all men in order to satisfy the
wants of sensitive, intellectual, and moral life.
If the fact be agreed on, the name is of little moment: whether _common
sense_ be or be not the most adequate to signify it, is a philological,
not a philosophical, question. What we have to do, is to inquire if
this inclination of which we have spoken, really exists, under what
forms it is presented, to what cases it is applicable, and how far, and
to what degree it may be considered a criterion of truth.
Evidently this inclination cannot, in the complication of the acts
and faculties of our soul, and in the multitude and diversity of the
objects offered to it, always be presented with the same character;
it must undergo various modifications capable of causing it to be
considered as a distinct fact, although in reality still the same,
transformed in a suitable manner. The best means of avoiding a
confusion of ideas, will be to designate the various cases in which the
exercise of this inclination occurs.
317. We at once detect it in the case of truths immediately evident.
The understanding neither does nor can prove them, and yet it must
assent to them, or perish like a flame that has nothing to feed
upon. The possession of one or more of these primitive truths is an
indispensable condition to intellectual life; without them intelligence
is an absurdity. Here, then, we find all that is comprised in the
definition of common sense: the impossibility of proof; an intellectual
necessity, which must be satisfied by assent; and an irresistible and
universal inclination to give this assent.
Is there any objection to calling this inclination common sense? For
myself, I shall not dispute upon words; I mark the fact, and this is
all I need do in philosophy. I grant that the inclination to assent is
not, in treating of immediate evidence, usually called common sense,
and this not without a reason. In order that the word sense may be
properly applied to it, the understanding ought to feel rather than
know: but in immediate evidence it knows rather than feels. However
this may be, I repeat that the name is of no account; yet, it would not
be difficult to find this criterion of truth called by grave authors
_common sense_. What I wish is to establish this law of our nature
inclining us to give our assent to certain truths, independently of
consciousness and ratiocination.
318. Not immediate evidence alone has this irresistible inclination in
its favor; mediate evidence also has it. Our understanding necessarily
assents, not only to first principles, but also to all propositions
clearly connected with them.
The natural inclination to assent is not limited to the subjective
value of ideas; it also extends to their objective value. We have
already seen that this objectiveness is not directly demonstrable _a
priori_, and yet we stand in need of it. If our understanding is not
to be limited to a purely ideal and subjective world, we must know not
only that things _seem_ to us, as they do with mediate or immediate
evidence, but also that they really _are_ such as they seem to be. It
is then necessary to assent to the objectiveness of ideas, and we find
within ourselves an irresistible and universal inclination to such an
assent.
319. What we have said of immediate and mediate evidence relatively
to the objective value of ideas, is true, not only in the purely
intellectual, but also in the moral order. The soul, endowed as it is
with free will, needs rules for its direction: if first intellectual
principles are necessary in order to know, moral principles are not
less so in order to will and work. What truth and error are to the
understanding, good and evil are to the will. Besides the life of
the understanding, there is a life of the will; the one, without
principles on which to rest, is annihilated; the other, as a moral
being, perishes, or becomes an inconceivable absurdity, if it have no
rule, the observation or violation of which constitutes its perfection
or imperfection. Here is another necessity for the assent to certain
moral truths, and another reason of this irresistible and universal
inclination to assent.
I would here remark, that as it is not enough in the intellectual order
to know, but it is also necessary to act, and one of the principles of
action is perception by the senses; so moral truths are not only known
but felt. When they are offered to the mind the understanding assents
to them as unshaken, and the heart embraces them with enthusiasm and
love.
320. Sensations considered as purely subjective do not meet the wants
of sensitive life. We must be sure that our sensations correspond to an
external world, real and true, not phenomenal. Men do not ordinarily
possess either the capacity or the time requisite to investigate the
philosophical questions of the existence of bodies, and to decide for
or against Berkeley and his followers. What is necessary is perfect
certainty that bodies do exist, that sensations have an external
object in reality. All men have this certainty when they assent with
an irresistible force to the objectiveness of ideas, that is, to the
existence of bodies.
321. Faith in human authority furnishes us with another case of this
wonderful instinct. Both the individual and society require faith:
without it society and family would be impossible; the individual would
be condemned to isolation, and, therefore, to death. The speech of man,
the human race itself, would disappear were it not for faith. This
belief has distinct grades according to different circumstances, but it
always exists; man is inclined, by a natural instinct, to believe his
fellow man. When many men speak, and none raise their voices against
them, the force of this inclination increases in the same proportion as
the number of witness, until it becomes irresistible. Who doubts the
existence of Rome? And yet, the greater part of us only know it upon
the authority of other men.
What foundation has faith in human authority? Most men are ignorant
of the philosophical reasons which may be assigned; but their faith
is not therefore less lively than that of philosophers. But why is
this so? Because there is a necessity, and at its side an instinct
to be satisfied. Man must believe in man, and he believes. And here
note well, that the greater the necessity, the greater the faith. The
very ignorant and imbecile believe all that is told them; they make
other men their guide, and blindly follow them. The tender child,
knowing nothing, abandons itself to the absolute belief of the greatest
marvels: the word of those around is to it an invaluable criterion of
truth.
322. Besides the cases of first intellectual and moral principles, the
objectiveness of ideas and sensations, the weight of human authority,
man must give his instantaneous assent to certain truths, which,
although he might, had he the time, demonstrate, he cannot now,
because so suddenly are they presented to him, that they exact an
immediate formation of judgment, and, sometimes, also action. In all
these cases, there is a natural inclination impelling us to assent.
Hence it is that we instinctively judge it impossible, or little
less than impossible, to cause a determinate effect, by a fortuitous
combination; as, for example, to form a page of Virgil by a chance
mixture of types, or to hit the bull's eye of a target without
taking aim, and other similar things. In this there is assuredly
a philosophical reason, but one not known to common people. There
is evidence of this reason in the theory of probabilities: it is a
distinct application of the principle of causality, and of the natural
opposition of our understanding to supposing an effect without a cause,
and order where there is no ordering intelligence.
323. Arguments of analogy, are in human life necessary in infinite
cases. How do we know that the sun will rise to-morrow? By the laws of
nature. How do we know that these will continue in force? Evidently, we
must finally recur to analogy. The sun will rise to-morrow, because it
has risen to-day; it rose yesterday, and it has never failed to rise.
How do we know that spring will again bring flowers, and autumn fruits?
Because it has so happened in former years. Men ordinarily do not know
the reasons which might be given for founding the argument from analogy
on the constancy of the laws of nature, and on the relation between
certain physical causes and determinate effects; but their assent is
required and given.
324. In all the cases cited, excepting, perhaps, that of immediate
evidence, the inclination to assent may be, and really is, called
_common sense_. The reason of this exception is, that in this case,
although there is no demonstration, the predicate is nevertheless most
clearly seen contained in the idea of the subject; but in the other
cases there is neither demonstration nor this vision. Man assents by a
natural impulse; and if any thing is objected to his belief, he does
not call attention to his conception, as in immediate evidence, but is
completely disconcerted, and knows not what to answer; he then applies
to the objection, not the name of error, nor of absurdity, but that of
extravagance, of something contrary to common sense.
Suppose, for example, a little grain of sand to be mixed with a great
heap, and some one to come and say: I will put my hand into the heap,
and instantly draw out the one grain hidden there. What will you object
to such a one? What will the beholders reply? Nothing; or, looking at
each other in perfect surprise, they will exclaim: "What extravagance!
He has no common sense!" Or suppose some one to say, that all we see
is nothing, that there is no external world, that we have no body, or
that all told us of the existence of a city called London is untrue.
Whoever hears such madness, knows not what to answer; but he repels it
by a natural impulse, and the mind feels that this is nonsense without
stopping to examine.
325. We shall now inquire whether common sense be a certain criterion
of truth, whether it be so in all, or in what cases, and what
characters it must have in order to be an infallible criterion.
Man cannot lay aside his nature: when it speaks, reason will not
allow it to be ignored. A natural inclination, simply because it is
natural, is in the eyes of philosophy something highly respectable: it
is the province of reason and free will not to allow it to go astray.
What is natural to man is not always so perfectly fixed as it is in
brutes, where instinct is blind as it must be, where there is neither
reason nor free will. The exercise of man's natural inclinations is
subordinate to his reason and free will, and, consequently, when these
are called instincts, the word has a very different meaning from what
it has when applied to brutes. What happens in the moral order is also
verified in the intellectual. We have not only our heart to watch, but
also our understanding; both are subject to the law of perfectibility;
the objects which they offer to us are good and evil, truth and error.
Nature herself shows us which one we ought to choose, but does not
force our choice; life and death are before us, we may select the one
we please.
326. There is in man, independently of the action of free will,
a quality which oftentimes has the effect of turning his natural
inclinations from their object; it is weakness. Hence, it is nothing
extraordinary for these inclinations to be so distorted as to lead to
error instead of truth, and this renders it necessary to determine what
characters _common sense_ should have, in order to be an absolutely
infallible criterion.
327. We will point out the conditions, such as we conceive them to be,
of true and never-erring common sense.
_First Condition._--That the inclination be every way irresistible, so
that one cannot, even by the aid of reflection, resist or avoid it.
_Second Condition._--That every truth of common sense be absolutely
certain to the whole human race. This condition follows from the first.
_Third Condition._--That every truth of common sense stand the test of
reason.
_Fourth Condition._--That every truth of common sense have for
its object the satisfaction of some great necessity of sensitive,
intellectual, or moral life.
328. When possessed of all these characters, the criterion of common
sense is absolutely infallible, and may defy skeptics to assign a case
wherein it has failed. The higher the degree in which the conditions
are satisfied, the more certain will the criterion be. We will explain
this by a few examples.
There is no doubt that ordinary men make their sensations so far
objective as to transfer what passes within themselves to the exterior,
without distinguishing between the subjective and the objective.
Thus, when they consider colors to be in things themselves, they do
not take the green, for example, to be the sensation of the green,
but a thing certain, a quality, or whatever else it may be called,
inherent in the object. But in reality this certainly is not so. The
cause of the sensation is in the external object; such a disposition
of facts also as to produce through the medium of light the impression
called _green_. Common sense here deceives; for philosophical analysis
convicts it of error. But here common sense has not the requisite
conditions. In the first place, it ought to stand the test of reason;
so soon as we reflect upon the case, we discover an illusion as fair as
innocent. Moreover, it is not irresistible, for our assent is withheld
the instant we are convinced of the illusion. Neither is the assent
universal, for not all philosophers have it. Nor is it indispensable
to the satisfaction of some great necessity of life. It therefore has
no one of the conditions just laid down. What we have said of sight is
applicable to the other senses. What is the value of the testimony of
common sense inasmuch as it leads us to make sensations objective? We
will answer this question.
A certainty that sensations correspond to external objects is necessary
to the wants of life. Upon this all men without exception are agreed.
Reflection cannot despoil us of our natural inclination; and although
reason, when most it cavils, may shake the foundations of this belief,
it never succeeds in convicting it of error. Even they who give the
most weight to such cavils, cannot prove that bodies do not exist: they
can only say that we do not know that they exist.
The natural inclination then possesses upon this point all the
characteristics necessary to elevate it to the rank of an infallible
criterion: it is irresistible, universal, satisfies a great necessity
of life, and stands the test of reason.
As to qualities, the direct objects of sensation, it is not necessary
for us that they exist in bodies themselves; it is enough that these
bodies have something which produces in us, in some way or other, a
corresponding impression. It is of little moment whether a green, or
orange color be, or be not, a quality of objects, so long as they have
some quality which produces in us the sensation of green, or orange
color, as the case may be. The ordinary wants of life are not at all
affected by this question; and man's relations with the sensible world
would not be disturbed by the generalization of philosophical analysis.
There is, perhaps, a kind of disenchantment of nature, since, despoiled
of sensations, it is not nearly so beautiful; but the enchantment
still continues with most men; and philosophy itself, except in brief
moments of reflection, is subject to it; and even in these moments it
experiences an enchantment of a different kind, as it considers how
much of the beauty attributed to objects, belong to man in his own
right, and that the simple exercise of a sensible being's harmonious
faculties suffices to make the whole universe glow with splendor and
glory.(28)