perception of matter? Undoubtedly he did. He followed the ordinary
psychological practice. He regarded the _datum_ as divisible into
perception and matter. The perception he held to be an act, if not a
modification, of our minds; the matter, he regarded as something which
existed out of the mind and irrespective of all perception. Right or
wrong, he resolved, or conceived that he had resolved, the perception of
matter into its constituent elements--these being a mental operation on
the one hand, and a material existence on the other. In short, however
ambiguous many of Dr Reid's principles may be, there can be no doubt
that he founded his doctrine of perception on an analysis of the given
fact with which he had to deal. He says, indeed, but little about this
analysis, so completely does he take it for granted. He accepted, as a
thing of course, the notorious distinction between the perception of
matter and matter itself: and, in doing so, he merely followed the
example of all preceding psychologists.
These two points being established,--_first_, that the theory of
representationism necessarily arises out of an analysis of the
perception of matter; and _secondly_, that Reid analysed or accepted the
analysis of this fact,--it follows as a necessary consequence, that
Reid, so far from having overthrown the representative theory, was
himself a representationist. His analysis gave him more than he
bargained for. He wished to obtain only one, that is, only a proximate
object in perception; but his analysis necessarily gave him two: it gave
him a remote as well as a proximate object. The mental mode or operation
which he calls the perception of matter, and which he distinguishes from
matter itself, this, in his philosophy, is the proximate object of
consciousness, and is precisely equivalent to the species, phantasms,
representations of the older psychology; the real existence, matter
itself, which he distinguishes from the perception of it, this is the
remote object of the mind, and is precisely equivalent to the mediate or
represented object of the older psychology. He and therepresentationists,
moreover, agree in hold ing that the latter is the object of belief rather
than of knowledge.
The merits of Dr Reid, then, as a reformer of philosophy, amount in our
opinion to this:--he was among the first[23] to _say_ and to _write_
that the representative theory of perception was false and erroneous,
and was the fountainhead of scepticism and idealism. But this admission
of his merits must be accompanied by the qualification that he adopted,
as the basis of his philosophy, a principle which rendered nugatory all
his protestations. It is of no use to disclaim a conclusion if we accept
the premises which inevitably lead to it. Dr Reid disclaimed the
representative theory, but he embraced its premises, and thus he
virtually ratified the conclusions of the very system which he
clamourously denounced. In his language, he is opposed to
representationism, but in his doctrine, he lends it the strongest
support, by accepting as the foundation of his philosophy an analysis of
the perception of matter.
In regard to the _second_ end which Dr Reid is supposed to have
overtaken,--the establishment of a doctrine of intuitive as opposed to a
doctrine of representative perception, it is unnecessary to say much. If
we have proved him to be a representationist, he cannot be held to be an
intuitionist. Indeed, a doctrine of intuitive perception is a sheer
impossibility upon his principles. A doctrine of intuition implies that
the mind in perceiving matter has only one, namely, a proximate object.
But the analysis of the perception of matter yields as its result, a
remote as well as a proximate object. The proximate object is the
perception--the remote object is the reality. And thus the analysis of
the given fact necessarily renders abortive every endeavour to construct
a doctrine of intuitive perception. The attempt _must_ end in
representationism. The only basis for a doctrine of intuitive perception
which will never give way, is a resolute forbearance from all analysis
of the fact. Do not tamper with it, and you are safe.
Such is the judgment which we are reluctantly compelled to pronounce on
the philosophy of Dr Reid in reference to its two cardinal claims--the
refutation of the ideal theory, and the establishment of a truer
doctrine--a doctrine of intuitive perception. In neither of these
undertakings do we think that he has succeeded, and we have exhibited
the grounds of our opinion. We do not blame him for this: he simply
missed his way at the outset. Representationism could not possibly be
avoided, neither could intuitionism be possibly fallen in with, on the
analytic road which he took.
But we have not yet done with the consideration of the psychological or
analytic doctrine of perception. We proceed to examine the entanglements
in which reason gets involved when she accepts the perception of matter
not in its natural and indissoluble unity, but as analysed by
philosophers into a mental and a material factor. We have still an eye
to Dr Reid. He came to the rescue of reason--how did it fare with him in
the struggle?
The analysis so often referred to affords a starting point, as has been
shown, to representationism: it is also the tap-root of scepticism and
idealism. These four things hang together in an inevitable sequence.
Scepticism and idealism dog representationism, and representationism
dogs the analysis of the perception of matter, just as obstinately as
substance is dogged by shadow. More explicitly stated, the order in
which they move is this:--The analysis divides the perception of matter
into perception and matter--two separate things. Upon this,
representationism declares, that the perception is the proximate and
that the matter is the remote object of the mind. Then scepticism
declares, that the existence of the matter which has been separated from
the perception is problematical, because it is not the direct object of
consciousness, and is consequently hypothetical. And, last of all,
idealism takes up the ball and declares, that this hypothetical matter
is not only problematical, but that it is non-existent. These are the
perplexities which rise up to embarrass reason whenever she is weak
enough to accept from philosophers their analysis of the perception of
matter. They are only the just punishment of her infatuated facility.
But what has Reid done to extricate reason from her embarrassments?
We must remember that Reid commenced with analysis, and that
consequently he embraced representationism,--in its spirit, if not
positively in its letter. But how did he evade the fangs of scepticism
and idealism--to say nothing of destroying--these sleuth-hounds which on
this road were sure to be down upon his track the moment they got wind
of him? We put the question in a less figurative form,--When scepticism
and idealism doubted or denied the independent existence of matter, how
did Reid vindicate it? He faced about and appealed boldly to our
instinctive and irresistible _belief_ in its independent existence.
The crisis of the strife centres in this appeal. In itself, the appeal
is perfectly competent and legitimate. But it may be met, on the part of
the sceptic and idealist, by two modes of tactic. The one tactic is
weak, and gives an easy triumph to Dr Reid: the other is more
formidable, and, in our opinion, lays him prostrate.
_The first Sceptical Tactic._ In answer to Dr Reid's appeal, the sceptic
or idealist may say, "Doubtless we have a belief in the independent
existence of matter; but this belief is not to be trusted. It is an
insufficient guarantee for that which it avouches. It does not follow
that a thing is true because we instinctively believe it to be true. It
does not follow that matter exists because we cannot but believe it to
exist. You must prove its existence by a better argument than mere
belief."--This mode of meeting the appeal we hold to be pure trifling.
We join issue with Dr Reid in maintaining that our nature is not rooted
in delusion, and that the primitive convictions of common sense, must be
accepted as infallible. If the sceptic admits that we _have_ a natural
belief in the independent existence of matter, there is an end to him:
Dr Reid's victory is secure. This first tactic is a feeble and mistaken
manoeuvre.
_The Second Sceptical Tactic._ This position is not so easily turned.
The stronghold of the sceptic and idealist is this: they deny the
primitive belief to which Dr Reid appeals to be _the fact_. It is not
true, they say, that any man believes in the independent existence of
matter. And this is perfectly obvious the moment that it is explained.
Matter in its _independent_ existence, matter _per se_, is matter
disengaged in thought from all perception of it present or remembered.
Now, does any man believe in the existence of such matter?
Unquestionably not. No man by any possibility can. What the matter is
which man really believes in shall be explained when we come to speak of
the metaphysical solution of the problem--perhaps sooner. Meanwhile we
remark that Dr Reid's appeal to the conviction of common sense in favour
of the existence of matter _per se_, is rebutted, and in our opinion
triumphantly, by the denial on the part of scepticism and idealism that
any such belief exists. Scepticism and idealism not only deny the
independent existence of matter, but they deny that any man believes in
the independent existence of matter. And in this denial they are most
indubitably right. For observe what such a belief requires as its
condition. A man must disengage in thought, a tree, for instance, from
the thought of all perception of it, and then he must believe in its
existence thus disengaged. If he has not disengaged, in his mind, the
tree from its perception, (from its present perception, if the tree be
before him--from its remembered perception, if it be not before him,) he
cannot believe in the existence of the tree disengaged from its
perception; for the tree is not disengaged from its perception. But
unless he believes in the existence of the tree disengaged from its
perception, he does not believe in the independent existence of the
tree,--in the existence of the tree _per se_. Now, can the mind by any
effort effect this disengagement? The thing is an absolute
impossibility. The condition on which the belief hinges cannot be
purified, and consequently the belief itself cannot be entertained.
People have, then, _no belief_ in the independent existence of
matter--that is, in the existence of matter entirely denuded of
perception. This point being proved, what becomes of Dr Reid's appeal to
_this belief_ in support of matter's independent existence? It has not
only no force; it has no meaning. This second tactic is invincible.
Scepticism and idealism are perfectly in the right when they refuse to
accept as the guarantee of independent matter a belief which itself has
no manner of existence. How can they be vanquished by an appeal to a
nonentity?
A question may here be raised. If the belief in question be not the
fact, what has hitherto prevented scepticism from putting a final
extinguisher on Reid's appeal by _proving_ that no such belief exists? A
very sufficient reason has prevented scepticism, from doing this--from
explicitly extinguishing the appeal. There is a division of labour in
speculation as well as in other pursuits. It is the sceptic's business
simply to deny the existence of the belief: it is no part of his
business to exhibit the grounds of his denial. _We_ have explained these
grounds; but were the sceptic to do this, he would be travelling out of
his vocation. Observe how the case stands. The reason why matter _per
se_ is not and cannot be believed in, is because it is impossible for
thought to disengage matter from perception, and consequently it is
impossible for thought to believe in the disengaged existence of matter.
The matter to be, believed in is not disengaged from the perception,
consequently it cannot be believed to be disengaged from the perception.
But unless it be believed to be disengaged from the perception, it
cannot be believed to exist _per se_. In short, as we have already said,
the impossibility of complying with the _condition_ of the belief is the
ground on which the sceptic denies the _existence_ of the belief. But
the sceptic is himself debarred from producing these grounds. Why?
Because their exhibition would be tantamount to a rejection of the
principle which he has _accepted_ at the hands of the orthodox and
dogmatic psychologist. That principle is the analysis so often spoken
of--the separation, namely, of the perception of matter into perception
and matter _per se_. The sceptic accepts this analysis. His business is
simply to _accept_, not to discover or scrutinise principles. Having
accepted the analysis, he then denies that any belief attaches to the
existence of matter _per se_. In this he is quite right. But he cannot,
consistently with his calling, exhibit the ground of his denial; for
this ground is, as we have shown, the impossibility of performing the
analysis,--of effecting the requisite disengagement. But the sceptic has
accepted the analysis, has admitted the disengagement. He therefore
cannot now retract: and he has no wish to retract. His special
mission--his only object is to confound the principle which he has
accepted by means of the reaction of its consequence. The inevitable
consequence which ensues when the analysis of the perception of matter
is admitted is the extinction of all belief in the existence of matter.
The analysis gives us a kind of matter to believe in to which no belief
corresponds. The sceptic is content with pronouncing this to be the fact
without going into its reason. It is not his business to correct, by a
direct exposure, the error of the principle which the dogmatist lays
down, and which he accepts. The analysis is the psychologist's affair;
let _him_ look to it. Were the sceptic to make it his, he would emerge,
from the sceptical crisis, and pass into a new stage of speculation. He,
indeed, subverts it indirectly by a _reductio ad absurdum_. But he does
not _say_ that he subverts it--he leaves the orthodox proposer of the
principle to find that out.
Reid totally misconceived the nature of scepticism and idealism in their
bearings on this problem. He regarded them as habits of thought--as
dispositions of mind peculiar to certain individuals of vexatious
character and unsound principles, instead of viewing them as catholic
eras in the development of all genuine speculative thinking. In his eyes
they were subjective crotchets limited to some, and not objective crises
common to all, who think. He made _personal_ matters of them--a thing
not to be endured. For instance, in dealing with Hume, he conceived that
the scepticism which confronted him in the pages of that great genius,
was _Hume's_ scepticism, and was not the scepticism of human nature at
large,--was not his own scepticism just as much as it was Hume's. _His_
soul, so he thought, was free from the obnoxious flaw, merely because
_his_ anatomy, shallower than Hume's, refused to lay it bare. With such
views it was impossible for Reid to eliminate scepticism and idealism
from philosophy. These foes are the foes of each man's own house and
heart, and nothing can be made of them if we attack them in the person
of another. Ultimately and fairly to get rid of them, a man must first
of all thoroughly digest them, and take them up into the vital
circulation of his own reason. The only way of putting them back is by
carrying them forward.
From having never properly secreted scepticism and idealism in his own
mind, Reid fell into the commission of one of the gravest errors of
which a philosopher can be guilty. He falsified the fact in regard to
our primitive beliefs--a thing which the obnoxious systems against which
he was fighting never did. He conceived that scepticism and idealism
called in question a fact which was countenanced by a natural belief;
accordingly, he confronted their denial with the allegation that the
disputed fact--the existence of matter _per se_--was guaranteed by a
primitive conviction of our nature. But this fact receives no support
from any such source. There is no belief in the whole repository of the
mind which can be fitted on to the existence of matter denuded of all
perception. Therefore, in maintaining the contrary, Reid falsified the
fact in regard to our primitive convictions--in regard to those
principles of common sense which he professed to follow as his guide.
This was a serious slip. The rash step which he here took plunged him
into a much deeper error than that of the sceptic or idealist. They
err[24] in common with him in accepting as their starting-point the
analysis of the perception of matter. He errs, by himself, in
maintaining that there is a belief where no belief exists.
But do not scepticism and idealism doubt matter's existence
_altogether_, or deny to it _any_ kind of existence? Certainly they do;
and in harmony with the principle from which they start they must do
this. The _only_ kind of matter which the analysis of the perception of
matter yields, is matter _per se_. The existence of such matter is, as
we have shown, altogether uncountenanced either by consciousness or
belief. But there is no other kind of matter in the field. We must
therefore either believe in the existence of matter _per se_, or we must
believe in the existence of _no_ matter whatever. We do not, and we
cannot believe in the existence of matter _per se_; therefore, we cannot
believe in the existence of matter at all. This is not satisfactory, but
it is closely consequential.
But why not, it may be said--why not cut the knot, and set the question
at rest, by admitting at once that every man _does_, popularly speaking,
believe in the existence of matter, and that he practically walks in the
light of that belief during every moment of his life? This observation
tempts us into a digression, and we shall yield to the temptation. The
problem of perception admits of being treated in _three_ several ways:
_first_, we may ignore it altogether,--we may refuse to entertain it at
all; or, _secondly_, we may discuss it in the manner just proposed--we
may lay it down as gospel that everyman does believe in the existence of
matter, and acts at all times upon this conviction, and we may expatiate
diffusely over these smooth truths; or, _thirdly_, we may follow and
contemplate the subtle and often perplexed windings which reason takes
in working her way through the problem--a problem which, though
apparently clearer than the noonday sun, is really darker than the
mysteries of Erebus. In short, we may _speculate_ the problem. In
grappling with it, we may trust ourselves to the mighty current of
_thinking_, with all its whirling eddies,--certain that if our thinking
be genuine objective thinking, which deals with nothing but
_ascertained_ facts--it will bring us at last into the haven of truth.
We now propose to consider which of these modes of treating the problem
is the best; we shall begin by making a few remarks upon the _second_,
for it was this which brought us to a stand, and seduced us into the
present digression.
It is, no doubt, perfectly true, that we all believe in the existence
of matter, and that we all act up to this belief. But surely that
statement is not a thing, to be put into a book and _sold_. It is not
even a thing which one man is entitled to tell _gratuitously_ to another
man who knows it just as well as he does. It must be admitted upon a
moment's reflection, that to communicate such information is to trifle
with people's patience in an intolerable degree, is to trespass most
abominably upon public or upon private indulgence. What, then, shall we
say, when we find this kind of truth not only gravely imparted, but
vehemently reiterated and enforced by scientific men, as it is in the
pages of Dr Reid and other celebrated expounders of the philosophy of
the human mind? We shall only say, that the economy of science is less
understood than that of commerce; and that while material articles, such
as air and sunshine, which are accessible to all, are for that reason
excluded from the market of trade, many intellectual wares, which are at
least equally accessible, are most preposterously permitted to have a
place in the market of science. Such wares are the instinctive
principles of Dr Reid. To inform a man that the material universe
exists, and that he believes in its existence, is to take for granted
that he is an idiot.
The circumstance which led the philosophers of Common Sense to traffic
in this kind of article, was perhaps the notion that truths had a value
in communication in proportion to their _importance_ to mankind. But
that is a most mistaken idea. The most important truths have absolutely
no value in communication. The truth that "each of us exists"--the truth
"that each of us is the same person to-day that he was yesterday," the
truth that "a material universe exists, and that we believe in its
existence,"--all these are most important truths--most important things
to know. It is difficult to see how we could get on without this
knowledge. Yet they are not worth one straw in communication. And why
not? Just for the same reason that atmospheric air, though absolutely
indispensable to our existence, has no value whatever in exchange--this
reason being that we can get, and have already got, both the air and the
truths, in unlimited abundance for nothing,--and thanks to no man. Why
_give_ a man what he has already _got_ to his heart's content--why
_teach_ him what he already _knows_ even to repletion?
It is not its importance, then, which confers upon truth its value in
communication. In other words, it is a most superfluous civility for one
man to impart truth to another, solely because it happens to be
important. If the important truth be already perfectly well known to the
recipient, and if the imparter of it is aware that the recipient knows
it just as well as he does,--"thank you _for nothing_" is, we think, the
mildest reply that could be made in the circumstances. The fact is, that
the value of truth is measured by precisely the same standard which
determines the value of wealth. This standard is in neither case the
importance of the article,--it is always its difficulty of
attainment,--its cost of production. Has _labour_ been expended on its
formation or acquisition; then the article, if a material commodity, has
a value in exchange--if a truth, it has a value in communication. Has no
labour been bestowed upon it, and has Nature herself furnished it to
every human being in overflowing abundance, then the thing is altogether
destitute of exchange-value--whether it be an article of matter or of
mind. No man can, without impertinence, transmit or convey such a
commodity to his neighbour.
If this be the law on the subject, (and we conceive that it must be so
ruled) it settles the question as to the _second_ mode of dealing with
the problem of perception. It establishes the point that this method of
treating the problem is not to be permitted. It is _tabooed_ by the very
nature of things. Air and sunshine are excellent and most important
articles, but they are not things to carry to market in
bottles,--because no labour is required to produce them, and because
they are the gratuitous and abundant property of every living soul. In
the same way, the existence of a material universe--and the fact that
we believe in its existence--these are most important truths; but they
are not things to take to market in books, and for a like reason. They
are important things to _know_, but they are not important things to
_tell_. We conceive, in short, that Nature, by rendering these and
similar truths unreservedly patent to the whole human race, has affixed
to them her own contraband,--interdicting their communication; and that
Dr Reid, in making them the staple of his publications, was fighting
against an eternal law. He undertook to teach the world certain truths
connected with perception, which by his own admission the world already
knew just as well as he did--and which required no labour for their
production. This way of going to work with any problem, is certainly not
the best. These remarks settle, we think, the general pretensions of the
philosophy of Common Sense. In justice, however, to this philosophy, we
must not omit to mention, that Sir William Hamilton has adduced the
evidence of no less than one hundred and six witnesses, whose testimony
goes to establish that it is a [Greek: ktema es aei]--a perpetual
possession, "a _joy_ for ever."
The _first_ and _third_ modes of dealing with our problem remain to be
considered. The first mode ignores the problem altogether, it refuses to
have any thing to do with it. Perhaps this mode is the best of the
three. We will not say that it is not: it is at any rate preferable to
the second. But once admit that philosophy is a legitimate occupation,
and this mode must be set aside, for it is a negation of all philosophy.
Every thing depends upon this admission. But the admission is, we
conceive, a point which has been already, and long ago decided. Men must
and will philosophise. That being the case, the only alternative left
is, that we should discuss the highest problem of philosophy in the
terms of the _third_ mode proposed. We have called this the speculative
method--which means nothing more than that we should expend upon the
investigation the uttermost toil and application of thought; and that we
should estimate the truths which we arrive at, not by the scale of their
importance, but by the scale of their difficulty of attainment,--of
their cost of production. _Labour_, we repeat it, is the standard which
measures the value of truth, as well as the value of wealth.
A still more cogent argument in favour of the strictly speculative
treatment of the problem is this. The problem of perception may be said
to be a _reversed_ problem. What are the means in every other problem,
are in _this_ problem the end--and what is the end in every other
problem, is in this problem the means. In every other problem the
solution of the problem is the end desiderated: the means are the
thinking requisite for its solution. But here the case is inverted. In
_our_ problem the desiderated solution is the means, the end is the
development, or, we should rather say, the creation of speculative
thought--a kind of thought different altogether from ordinary popular
thinking. "Oh! then," some one will perhaps exclaim, "after all, the
whole question about perception resolves it into a _mere gymnastic_ of
the mind." Good sir--do you know what you are saying? Do _you_ think
that the mind itself is any thing except a mere gymnastic of the mind.
If you do--you are most deplorably mistaken. Most assuredly the mind
only _is_ what the mind _does_. The existence of thought is the exercise
of thought. Now if this be true, there is the strongest possible reason
for treating the problem after a purely speculative fashion. The problem
and its desired solution--these are only the means which enable a new
species of thinking, (and that the very highest) viz. speculative
thinking, to deploy into existence. This deployment is the end. But how
can this end be attained if we check the speculative evolution in its
first movements, by throwing ourselves into the arms of the _apparently_
Common Sense convictions of Dr Reid? We use the word "apparently,"
because, in reference to this problem, the apparently Common Sense
convictions of Dr Reid, are not the _really_ Common Sense convictions of
mankind. These latter can only be got at through the severest discipline
of speculation.
Our final answer, then, to the question which led us into this
digression is this:--It is quite true that the material world exists: it
is quite true that we believe in this existence, and always act in
conformity with our faith. Whole books may be written in confirmation of
these truths. They may be published and paraded in a manner which
apparently settles the entire problem of perception. And yet this is not
the right way to go to work. It settles nothing but what all men, women,
and children have already settled. The truths thus formally
substantiated were produced without an effort--every one has already got
from Nature at least as much of them as he cares to have; and therefore,
whatever their importance may be, they cannot, with any sort of
propriety, be made the subjects of conveyance from man to man. We must
either leave the problem altogether alone, (a thing, however, which we
should have thought of sooner,) or we must adopt the speculative
treatment. The argument, moreover, contained in the preceding paragraph,
appears to render this treatment imperative; and accordingly we now
return to it, after our somewhat lengthened digression.
We must take up the thread of our discourse at the point where we
dropped it. The crisis to which the discussion had conducted us was
this; that the existence of matter could not be believed in _at all_.
The psychological analysis necessarily lands us in this conclusion: for
the psychological analysis gives us, for matter, nothing but matter _per
se_. But matter _per se_ is what no man does or can believe in. We are
reluctant to reiterate the proof; but it is this: to believe in the
existence of matter _per se_ is to believe in the existence of matter
liberated from perception; but we, cannot believe in the existence of
matter liberated from perception, for no power of thinking will liberate
matter from perception; therefore, we cannot believe in the existence of
matter _per se_. This argument admits of being exhibited in a still more
forcible form. We commence with an illustration. If a man believes that
a thing exists as one thing, he cannot believe that this same thing
exists as another thing. For instance, if a man believes that a tree
exists as a tree, he cannot believe that it exists as a house. Apply
this to the subject in hand. If a man believes that matter exists as a
thing _not_ disengaged from perception, he cannot believe that it exists
as a thing _disengaged_ from perception. Now, there cannot be a doubt
that the _only_ kind of matter in which man believes is matter _not_
disengaged from perception. He therefore cannot believe in matter
_disengaged_ from perception. His mind is already preoccupied by the
belief that matter is _this one thing_, and, therefore, he cannot
believe that it is _that other thing_. His faith is, in this instance,
forestalled, just as much as his faith is forestalled from believing
that a tree is a house, when he already believes that it is a tree.
There are two very good reasons, then, why we cannot believe in the
existence of matter at all, if we accept as our starting point the
psychological analysis. This analysis gives us, for matter, matter _per
se_. But matter _per se_ cannot be believed in; 1st, because the
condition on which the belief depends cannot be complied with; and,
2dly, because the matter which we _already_ believe in is something
quite different from matter _per se_. In trying to believe in the
existence of matter _per se_, we always find that we are believing in
the existence of _something else_, namely, in the existence of matter
_cum perceptione_. But it is not to the psychological analysis that we
are indebted for this matter, which is something else than matter _per
se_. The psychological analysis does its best to annihilate it. It gives
us nothing but matter _per se_,--a thing which neither is nor can be
believed in. We are thus prevented from believing in the existence of
_any_ kind of matter. In a word, the psychological analysis of the
perception of matter necessarily converts who embrace it into sceptics
or idealists.
In this predicament what shall we do? Shall we abandon the analysis as a
treacherous principle, or shall we, with Dr Reid, make one more stand in
its defence? In order that the analysis may have fair play we shall give
it another chance, by quoting Mr Stewart's exposition of Reid's
doctrine, which must be regarded as a perfectly faithful
representation:--"Dr Reid," says Mr Stewart, "was the first person who
had courage to lay completely aside all the common _hypothetical_
language concerning perception, and to exhibit _the difficulty_, in all
its magnitude, by a plain _statement of the fact_. To what, then, it may
be asked, does this statement amount? Merely to this; that the mind is
so formed that certain impressions produced on our organs of sense, by
external objects, are _followed_ by corresponding sensations, and that
these sensations, (which have no more resemblance to the qualities of
matter, than the words of a language have to the things they denote,)
are _followed_ by a perception of the existence and qualities of the
bodies by which the impressions are made;--that all the steps of this
process are equally incomprehensible."[25] There are at least two points
which are well worthy of being attended to in this quotation. _First_,
Mr Stewart says that Reid "exhibited the difficulty of the problem of
perception, in all its magnitude, by a plain statement of fact." What
does that mean? It means this; that Reid stated, indeed, the fact
correctly--namely, _that_ external objects give rise to sensations and
perceptions, but that still his statement did not penetrate to the heart
of the business, but by his own admission, left the difficulty
undiminished. What difficulty? The difficulty as to _how_ external
objects give rise to sensations and perceptions. Reid did not undertake
to settle that point--a wise declinature, in the estimation of Mr
Stewart. Now Mr Stewart, understanding, as he did, the philosophy of
causation, ought to have known that every difficulty as to _how_ one
thing gives rise to another, is purely a difficulty of the mind's
creation, and not of nature's making, and is, therefore, no difficulty
at all. Let us explain this,--a man says he knows _that_ fire explodes
gunpowder; but he does not know _how_ or by what means it does this.
Suppose, then, he finds out the means, he is still just where he was; he
must again ask how or by what means these discovered means explode the
gunpowder; and so on _ad infinitum_. Now the mind may quibble with
itself for ever, and _make_ what difficulties it pleases in this way;
but there is no _real_ difficulty in the case. In considering any
sequence, we always know the _how_ or the means as soon as we know the
_that_ or the fact. These means may be more proximate or more remote
means, but they are invariably given either proximately or remotely
along with and in the fact. As soon as we know _that_ fire explodes
gunpowder, we know _how_ fire explodes gunpowder,--for fire is itself
the means which explodes gunpowder,--the _how_ by which it is ignited.
In the same way, _if_ we knew that matter gave rise to perception, there
would be no difficulty as to _how_ it did so. Matter would be itself the
means which gave rise to perception. We conceive, therefore, that Mr
Stewart did not consider what he was saying when he affirmed that Reid's
plain statement of facts exhibited _the difficulty_ in all its
magnitude. If Reid's statement _be_ a statement of fact, all difficulty
vanishes,--the question of perception is relieved from every species of
perplexity. If it _be_ the fact that perception is consequent on the
presence of matter, Reid must be admitted to have explained, to the
satisfaction of all mankind, _how_ perception is brought about. Matter
is itself the means by which it is brought about.
_Secondly_, then--Is it the fact that matter gives rise to perception?
That is the question. Is it the fact that these two things stand to each
other in the relation of antecedent and consequent? Reid's "plain
statement of fact," as reported by Mr Stewart, maintains that they do.
Reid lays it down as a fact, that perceptions _follow_ sensations, that
sensations _follow_ certain impressions made on our organs of sense by
external objects, which stand first in the series. The sequence, then,
is this--1_st_, Real external objects; 2_d_, Impressions made on our
organs of sense; 3_d_, Sensations; 4_th_, Perceptions. It will simplify
the discussion if we leave out of account Nos. 2 and 3, limiting
ourselves to the statement that real objects precede perceptions. This
is declared to be a fact--of course an _observed_ fact; for a fact can
with no sort of propriety be called a fact, unless some person or other
has _observed_ it. Reid "laid completely aside all the common
_hypothetical_ language concerning perception." His plain statement (so
says Mr Stewart) contains nothing but facts--facts established, of
course, by observation. It is a fact of observation then, according to
Reid, that real objects precede perceptions; that perceptions follow
when real objects are present. Now, when a man proclaims as fact such a
sequence as this, what must he first of all have done? He must have
observed the antecedent _before_ it was followed by the consequent; he
must have observed the cause out of combination with the effect;
otherwise his statement is a pure hypothesis or fiction. For instance,
when a man says that a shower of rain (No. 1), is followed by a
refreshed vegetation (No. 2), he must have observed both No. 1 and No.
2, and he must have observed them as two separate things. Had he never
observed any thing but No. 2 (the refreshed vegetation), he might form
what conjectures he pleased in regard to its antecedent, but he never
could lay it down _as an observed fact_, that this antecedent was a
shower of rain. In the same way, when a man affirms it to be a fact of
observation (as Dr Reid does, according to Stewart) that material
objects are _followed_ by perceptions, it is absolutely necessary for
the credit of his statement that he should have observed this to be the
case; that he should have observed material objects before they were
followed by perceptions; that he should have observed the antecedent
separate from the consequent: otherwise his statement, instead of being
complimented as a plain statement of fact, must be condemned as a
tortuous statement of hypothesis. Unless he has observed No. 1 and No. 2
in sequence, he is not entitled to declare that this is an observed
sequence. Now, did Reid, or did any man ever observe matter anterior to
his perception of it? Had Reid a faculty which enabled him to catch
matter before it had passed in to perception? Did he ever observe it, as
Hudibras says, "undressed?" Mr Stewart implies that he had such a
faculty. But the notion is preposterous. No man can observe matter prior
to his perception of it; for his observation of it presupposes his
perception of it. Our observation of matter _begins_ absolutely with the
perception of it. Observation always gives the perception of matter as
the _first_ term in the series, and not matter itself. To pretend (as
Reid and Stewart do) that observation can go behind perception, and lay
hold of matter before it has given rise to perception--this is too
ludicrous a doctrine to be even mentioned; and we should not have
alluded to it, but for the countenance which it has received from the
two great apostles of common sense.
This last bold attempt, then, on the part of Reid and Stewart (for
Stewart adopts the doctrine which he reports) to prop their tottering
analysis on direct observation and experience, must be pronounced a
failure. Reid's "plain statement of fact" is not a _true_ statement of
_observed_ fact; it is a vicious statement of _conjectured_ fact.
Observation depones to the existence of the perception of matter as the
first _datum_ with which it has to deal, but it depones to the existence
of nothing anterior to this.
But will not abstract thinking bear out the analysis by yielding to us
matter _per se_ as a legitimate inference of reason? No; it will do
nothing of the kind. To make good this inference, observe what abstract
thinking must do. It must bring under the notice of the mind matter _per
se_ (No. 1) as something which is _not_ the perception of it (No. 2):
but whenever thought tries to bring No. 1 under the notice of the mind,
it is No. 2 (or the perception of matter) which invariably comes. We may
ring for No. 1, but No. 2 always answers the bell. We may labour to
construe a tree _per se_ to the mind, but what we always _do_ construe
to the mind is the perception of a tree. What we want is No. 1, but what
we always get is No. 2. To unravel the thing explicitly--the manner in
which we impose upon ourselves is this:--As explanatory of the
perceptive process, we construe to our minds _two number twos_, and one
of these we _call_ No. 1. For example, we have the perception of a tree
(No. 2); we wish to think the tree itself (No. 1) as that which gives
rise to the perception. But this No. 1 is merely No. 2 over again. _It_
is thought of as the perception of a tree, _i. e._ as No. 2. We _call_
it the tree itself, or No. 1; but we _think_ it as the perception of the
tree, or as No. 2. The first or explanatory term (the matter _per se_)
is merely a repetition in thought (though called by a different name) of
the second term--the term to be explained--viz. the perception of
matter. Abstract thinking, then, equally with direct observation,
refuses to lend any support to the analysis; for a thing cannot be said
to be analysed when it is merely multiplied or repeated, which is all
that abstract thinking does in regard to the perception of matter. The
matter _per se_, which abstract thinking supposes that it separates from
the perception of matter, is merely an iteration of the perception of
matter.
Our conclusion therefore is, that the analysis of the perception of
matter into the two things, perception and matter (the ordinary
psychological principle), must, on all accounts, be abandoned. It is
both treacherous and impracticable.
Before proceeding to consider the metaphysical solution of the problem,
we shall gather up into a few sentences the reasonings which in the
preceding discussion are diffused over a considerable surface. The
ordinary, or psychological doctrine of perception, reposes upon an
analysis of the perception of matter into two separate things,--a
modification of our minds (the one thing) consequent on the presence of
matter _per se_, which is the other thing. This analysis inevitably
leads to a theory of representative perception, because it yields as its
result a proximate and a remote object. It is the essence of
representationism to recognise both of these as instrumental in
perception. But representationism leads to scepticism--for it is
possible that the remote or real object (matter _per se_), not being an
object of consciousness, may not be instrumental in the process.
Scepticism doubts its instrumentality, and, doubting its
instrumentality, it, of course, doubts its existence; for not being an
object of consciousness, its existence is only postulated in order to
account for something which _is_ an object of consciousness, viz.
perception. If, therefore, we doubt that matter has any hand in bringing
about perception, we, of course, doubt the existence of matter. This
scepticism does. Idealism denies its instrumentality and existence. In
these circumstances what does Dr Reid do? He admits that matter _per se_
is not an object of consciousness; but he endeavours to save its
existence by an appeal to our natural and irresistible belief in its
existence. But scepticism and idealism doubt and deny the existence of
matter _per se_, not merely because it is no object of consciousness,
but, moreover, because it is no object of belief. And in this they are
perfectly right. It _is_ no object of belief. Dr Reid's appeal,
therefore, goes for nothing. He has put into the witness-box a
nonentity. And scepticism and idealism are at any rate for the present
reprieved. But do not scepticism and idealism go still further in their
denial--do they not extend it from a denial in the existence of matter
_per se_, to a denial in the existence of matter altogether? Yes, and
they must do this. They can only deal with the matter which the
psychological analysis affords. The only kind of matter which the
psychological analysis affords is matter _per se_, and it affords this
as all matter whatsoever. Therefore, in denying the existence of matter
_per se_, scepticism and idealism must deny the existence of matter out
and out. This, then, is the legitimate _terminus_ to which the accepted
analysis conducts us. We are all, as we at present stand, either
sceptics or idealists, every man of us. Shall the analysis, then, be
given up? Not if it can be substantiated by any good plea: for _truth_
must be accepted, be the consequences what they may. Can the analysis,
then, be made good either by observation or by reasoning,--the only
competent authorities, now that belief has been declared _hors de
combat_? Stewart says that Reid made it good by means of direct
observation; but the claim is too ridiculous to be listened to for a
single instant. We have also shown that reasoning is incompetent to make
out and support the analysis; and therefore our conclusion is, that it
falls to the ground as a thing altogether impracticable as well as
false, and that the attempt to re-establish it ought never, on any
account, to be renewed.
* * * * *
We have dwelt so long on the exposition of the psychological or analytic
solution of the problem of perception, that we have but little space to
spare for the discussion of the metaphysical doctrine. We shall unfold
it as briefly as we can.
The principle of the metaphysical doctrine is precisely the opposite of
the principle of the psychological doctrine. The one attempts all
analysis; the other forbears from all analysis of the given fact--the
perception of matter. And why does metaphysic make no attempt to dissect
this fact? Simply because the thing cannot be done. The fact yields not
to the solvent of thought: it yields not to the solvent of observation:
it yields not to the solvent of belief, for man has no belief in the
existence of matter from which perception (present and remembered) has
been withdrawn. An impotence of the mind does indeed apparently resolve
the supposed synthesis: but essential thinking exposes the imposition,
restores the divided elements to their pristine integrity, and
extinguishes the theory which would explain the _datum_ by means of the
concurrence of a subjective or mental, and an objective or material
factor. The convicted weakness of psychology is thus the root which
gives strength to metaphysic. The failure of psychology affords to
metaphysic a foundation of adamant. And perhaps no better or more
comprehensive description of the object of metaphysical or speculative
philosophy could be given than this,--that it is a science which exists,
and has at all times existed, chiefly for the purpose of exposing the
vanity and confounding the pretensions of what is called the "science of
the human mind." The turning-round of thought from psychology to
metaphysic is the true interpretation of the Platonic conversion of the
soul from ignorance to knowledge--from mere opinion to certainty and
satisfaction: in other words, from a discipline in which the thinking is
only _apparent_, to a discipline in which the thinking is _real_.
Ordinary observation does not reveal to us the real, but only the
apparent revolutions of the celestial orbs. We must call astronomy to
our aid if we would reach the truth. In the same way, ordinary or
psychological thinking may show us the apparent movements of
thought--but it is powerless to decipher the real figures described in
that mightier than planetary scheme. Metaphysic alone can teach us to
read aright the intellectual skies. Psychology regards the universe of
thought from the Ptolemaic point of view, making man, as this system
made the earth, the centre of the whole: metaphysic regards it from the
Copernican point of view, making God, as this scheme makes the sun, the
regulating principle of all. The difference is as great between "the
science of the human mind" and metaphysic, as it is between the
Ptolemaic and the Copernican astronomy, and it is very much of the same
kind.
But the opposition between psychology and metaphysic, which we would at
present confine ourselves to the consideration of, is this:--the
psychological blindness consists in supposing that the analysis so often
referred to is practicable, and has been made out: the metaphysical
insight consists in seeing that the analysis is null and impracticable.
The superiority of metaphysic, then, does not consist in doing, or in
attempting more than psychology. It consists in seeing that psychology
proposes to execute, the impossible, (a thing which psychology does not
herself see, but persists in attempting;) and it consists, moreover, in
refraining from this audacious attempt, and in adopting a humbler, a
less adventurous, and a more circumspect method. Metaphysic (viewed in
its ideal character) aims at nothing but what it can fully overtake. It
is quite a mistake to imagine that this science proposes to carry a man
beyond the length of his tether. The psychologist, indeed, launches the
mind into imaginary spheres; but metaphysic binds it down to the fact,
and there sternly bids it to abide. _That_ is the profession of the
metaphysican, considered in his beau-ideal. That, too, is the practice
(making allowance for the infirmities incident to humanity, and which
prevent the ideal from ever being perfectly realised)--the practice of
all the true astronomers of thought, from Plato down to Schelling and
Hegel. If these philosophers accomplish more than the psychologist, it
is only because they attempt much less.
In taking up the problem of perception all that metaphysic demands is
the _whole_ given fact. That is her only postulate. And it is
undoubtedly a stipulation which she is justly entitled to make. Now,
what is, in this case, the _whole_ given fact? When we perceive an
object, what is the whole given fact before us? In stating it, we must
not consult elegance of expression: the whole given fact is this,--"We
apprehend the perception of an object." The fact before us is
comprehended wholly in that statement, but in nothing short of it. Now,
does metaphysic give no countenance to an analysis of this fact? That is
a new question--a question on which we have not yet touched.
Observe,--the fact which metaphysic declares to be absolutely
unsusceptible of analysis is "the perception of matter." But the fact
which we are now considering is a totally different fact: it is _our
apprehension of_ the perception of matter--and it does not follow that
metaphysic will also declare this fact to be ultimate and
indecompoundable. Were metaphysic to do this, it would reduce us to the
condition of subjective or egoistic idealism. But metaphysic is not so
absurd. It denies the divisibility of the one fact; but it does itself
divide the other. And it is perfectly competent for metaphysic to do
this, inasmuch as "our apprehension of the perception of matter" is a
different fact from "the perception of matter itself." The former is, in
the estimation of metaphysic, susceptible of analysis--the latter is
not. Metaphysic thus escapes the imputation of leading us into
subjective idealism. This will become more apparent as we proceed.
"Our apprehension of the perception of matter,"--this, then, is the
whole given fact with which metaphysic has to deal. And this fact
metaphysic proceeds to analyse into a subjective and an objective
factor--giving to the human mind that part of the _datum_ which belongs
to the human mind, and withholding from the human mind that part of the
_datum_ to which it has no proper or exclusive claim. But at what point
in the _datum_ does metaphysic insert the dissecting knife, or introduce
the solvent which is to effect the proposed dualisation? At a very
different point from that at which psychology insinuates her
"ineffectual fire." Psychology cuts down between perception and matter,
making the former subjective and the latter objective. Metaphysic cuts
down between "our apprehension"--and "the perception of matter;" making
the latter, "the perception of matter," totally objective, and the
former, "our apprehension," alone subjective. Admitting, then, that the
total fact we have to deal with is this, "our apprehension of the
perception of matter"--the difference of treatment which this fact
experiences at the hand of psychology and metaphysic is this:--they both
divide the fact; but psychology divides it as follows;--"Our
apprehension of the perception of"--that is the subjective part of the
_datum_--the part that belongs to the human mind;--"Matter _per se_" is
the objective part of the _datum_, the part of the _datum_ which exists
independently of the human mind. Metaphysic divides it at a different
point, "our apprehension of:" this, according to metaphysic, is the
subjective part of the process--it is all which can with any propriety
be attributed to the human mind:--"the perception of matter," this is
the objective part of the _datum_--the part of it which exists
independently of the human mind--and to the possession of which the
human mind has no proper claim--no title at all.
Before explaining what the grounds are which authorise metaphysic in
making a division so different from the psychological division of the
fact which they both discuss, we shall make a few remarks for the
purpose of extirpating, if possible, any lingering prejudice which may
still lurk in the reader's mind in favour of the psychological
partition.
According to metaphysic, the perception of matter is not the whole
given fact with which we have to deal in working out this problem--(it
is not the whole given fact; for, as we have said, our apprehension of,
or participation in, the perception of matter--this is the whole given
fact);--but the perception of matter is the _whole objective_ part of
the given fact. But it will, perhaps, be asked--Are there not here two
given facts? Does not the perception of matter imply two _data_? Is not
the perception one given fact, and is not the matter itself another
given fact--and are not these two facts perfectly distinct from one
another? No: it is the false analysis of psychologists which we have
already exposed that deceives us. But there is another circumstance
which, perhaps, contributes more than any thing else to assist and
perpetuate our delusion. This is the construction of language. We shall
take this opportunity to put the student of philosophy upon his guard
against its misleading tendency.
People imagine that because two (or rather three) words are employed to
denote the fact, (the perception of matter,) that therefore there are
two separate facts and thoughts corresponding to these separate words.
But it is a great mistake to suppose that the analysis of facts and
thoughts necessarily runs parallel with the analysis of sounds. Man, as
Homer says, is [Greek: merops], or a word-divider; and he often carries
this propensity so far as to divide words where there is no
corresponding division of thoughts or of things. This is a very
convenient practice, in so far as the ordinary business of life is
concerned: for it saves much circumlocution, much expenditure of sound.
But it runs the risk of making great havoc with scientific thinking; and
there cannot be a doubt that it has helped to confirm psychology in its
worst errors, by leading the unwary thinker to suppose that he has got
before him a complete fact or thought, when he has merely got before him
a complete word. There are whole words which, taken by themselves, have
no thoughts or things corresponding to them, any more than there are
thoughts and things corresponding to each of the separate syllables of
which these words are composed. The words "perception" and "matter" are
cases in point. These words have no meaning,--they have neither facts
nor thoughts corresponding to them, when taken out of correlation to
each other. The word "perception" must be supplemented (mentally at
least) by the words "of matter," before it has any kind of sense--before
it denotes any thing that exists; and in like manner the word "matter"
must be mentally supplemented by the words "perception of," before it
has any kind of sense, or denotes any real existence. The psychologist
would think it absurd if any one were to maintain that there is one
separate existence in nature corresponding to the syllable _mat-_, and
another separate existence corresponding to the syllable _ter_--the
component syllables of the word "matter." In the estimation of the
metaphysician, it is just as ridiculous to suppose that there is an
existing fact or modification in us corresponding to the three syllables
_perception_, and a fact or existence in nature corresponding to the two
syllables _matter_. The word "perception" is merely part of a word
which, for convenience' sake, is allowed to represent the whole word;
and so is the word "matter." The word "perception-of-matter" is always
the one total word--the word to the mind,--and the existence which this
word denotes is a totally objective existence.
But in these remarks we are reiterating (we hope, however, that we are
also enforcing) our previous arguments. No power of the mind can divide
into two facts, or two existences, or two thoughts, that one prominent
fact which stands forth in its integrity as the perception-of-matter.
Despite, then, the misleading construction of language--despite the
plausible artifices of psychology, we must just accept this fact as we
find it,--that is, we must accept it indissoluble and entire, and we
must keep it indissoluble and entire. We have seen what psychology
brought us to by tampering with it, under the pretence of a spurious,
because impracticable analysis.
We proceed to exhibit the grounds upon which the metaphysician claims
for the perception of matter a totally objective existence. The question
may be stated thus: Where are we to place this _datum_? in our minds or
_out of_ our minds? We cannot place part of it in our own minds, and
part of it out of our minds, for it has been proved to be not subject to
partition. Whereever we place it, then, there must we place it whole and
undivided. Has the perception of matter, then, its proper location in
the human mind, or has it not? Does its existence depend upon our
existence, or has it a being altogether independent of us?
Now that, and that alone, is the point to decide which our natural
belief should be appealed to; but Dr Reid did not see this. His appeal
to the conviction of common sense was premature. He appealed to this
belief without allowing scepticism and idealism to run their full
course; without allowing them to confound the psychological analysis,
and thus bring, us back to a better condition by compelling us to accept
the fact, not as given in the spurious analysis of man, but as given in
the eternal synthesis of God. The consequence was, that Reid's appeal
came to naught. Instead of interrogating our belief as to the objective
existence of the perception of matter, (the proper question,) the
question which he brought under its notice was the objective existence
of matter _per se_--matter _minus_ perception. Now, matter _per se_, or
_minus_ perception, is a thing which no belief will countenance. Reid,
however, could not admit this. Having appealed to the belief, he was
compelled to distort its evidence in his own favour, and to force it, in
spite of itself, to bear testimony to the fact which he wished it to
establish. Thus Dr Reid's appeal not only came to naught, but being
premature, it drove him, as has been said and shown, to falsify the
primitive convictions of our nature. Scepticism must indeed be terrible,
when it could thus hurry an honest man into a philosophical falsehood.
The question, then, which we have to refer to our natural belief, and
abide the answer whatever it may be, is this:--Is the perception of
matter (taken in its integrity, as it must be taken,) is it a
modification of the human mind, or is it not? We answer unhesitatingly
for ourselves, that _our_ belief is, that it is not. This "confession of
faith" saves us from the imputation of subjective idealism, and we care
not what other kind of idealism we are charged with. We can think of no
sort of evidence to prove that the perception of matter is a
modification of the human mind, or that the human mind is its proper and
exclusive abode: and all our belief sets in towards the opposite
conclusion. Our primitive conviction, when we do nothing to pervert it,
is that the perception of matter is not, either wholly, or in part, a
condition of the human soul; is not bounded in any direction by the
narrow limits of our intellectual span, but that it "dwells apart," a
mighty and independent system, a city fitted up and upheld by the
everlasting God. Who told us that we were placed in a world composed of
matter, which gives rise to our subsequent internal perceptions of it,
and not that we were let down at once into a universe composed of
external perceptions of matter, that were there beforehand and from all
eternity--and in which we, the creatures of a day, are merely allowed to
participate by the gracious Power to whom they really appertain? We,
perversely philosophising, told ourselves the former of these
alternatives; but our better nature, the convictions that we have
received from God himself, assure us that the latter of them is the
truth. The latter is by far the simpler, as well as by far the sublimer
doctrine. But it is not on the authority either of its simplicity or its
sublimity, that we venture to propound it--it is on account of its
perfect consonance, both with the primitive convictions of our
unsophisticated common sense, and with the more delicate and complex
evidence of our speculative reason.
When a man consults his own nature, in an impartial spirit, he
inevitably finds that his genuine belief in the existence of matter is
not a belief in the independent existence of matter _per se_--but is a
belief in the independent existence of the perception of matter which he
is for the time participating in. The very last thing which he naturally
believes in, is, that the perception is a state of his own mind, and
that the matter is something different from it, and exists apart _in
natura rerum_. He they _say_ that he believes this, but he never does
really believe it. At any rate, he believes in the _first_ place that
they exist _together_, wherever they exist. The perception which a man
has of a sheet of paper, does not come before him as something distinct
from the sheet of paper itself. The two are identical: they are
indivisible: they are not two, but one. The only question then is,
whether the perception of a sheet of paper (taken as it must be in its
indissoluble totality) is a state of the man's own mind--or is no such
state. And, in settlement of this question, there cannot be a doubt that
he believes in the _second_ place, that the perception of a sheet of
paper is not a modification of his own mind, but is an objective thing
which exists altogether independent of him, and one which would still
exist, although he, and all other created beings were annihilated. All
that he believes to be his (or subjective) is _his participation in_ the
perception of this object. In a word, it is the perception of matter,
and not matter _per se_, which is the _kind_ of matter, in the
independent and permanent existence of which man rests and reposes his
belief. There is no truth or satisfaction to be found in any other
doctrine.
This metaphysical theory of perception is a doctrine of pure
intuitionism: it steers clear of all the perplexities of
representationism; for it gives us in perception only one--that is, only
a proximate object: this object is the perception of matter,--and this
is one indivisible object. It is not, and cannot be, split into a
proximate and a remote object. The doctrine, therefore, is proof against
all the cavils of scepticism. We may add, that the entire objectivity of
this _datum_ (which the metaphysical doctrine proclaims) makes it proof
against the imputation of idealism,--at least of every species of absurd
or objectionable idealism.
But what are these objective perceptions of matter, and to whom do they
belong? This question leads us to speak of the circumstance which
renders the metaphysical doctrine of perception so truly valuable. This
doctrine is valuable chiefly on account of the indestructible foundation
which it affords to the _a priori_ argument in favour of the existence
of God. The substance of the argument is this,--matter is the perception
of matter. The perception of matter does not belong to man; it is no
state of the human mind,--man merely participates in it. But it must
belong to some mind,--for perceptions without an intelligence in which
they inhere are, inconceivable and contradictory. They must therefore be
the property of the Divine mind; states of the everlasting intellect;
_ideas_ of the Lord and Ruler of all things, and which come before us as
_realities_,--so forcibly do they contrast themselves with the
evanescent and irregular ideas of our feeble understandings. We must,
however, beware, above all things, of regarding these Divine ideas as
_mere_ ideas. An idea, as usually understood, is that from which all
reality has been abstracted; but the perception of matter is a Divine
idea, from which the reality has not been abstracted, and from which it
cannot be abstracted.
But what, it will be asked--what becomes of the senses if this doctrine
be admitted? What is their use and office? Just the same as
before,--only with this difference, that whereas the psychological
doctrine teaches that the exercise of the senses is the condition upon
which we are permitted to apprehend objective material things--the
metaphysical doctrine teaches that the exercise of the senses is the
condition upon which we are permitted to apprehend or participate in the
objective perception of material things. There is no real difficulty in
the question just raised; and therefore, with this explanatory hint, we
leave it, our space being exhausted.
Anticipations of this doctrine are to be found in the writings of every
great metaphysician--of every man that ever speculated. It is announced
in the speculations of Malebranche--still more explicitly in those of
Berkeley; but though it forms the substance of their systems, from
foundation-stone to pinnacle, it is not proclaimed with sufficiently
unequivocal distinctness by either of these two great philosophers.
Malebranche made the perception of matter totally objective, and vested
the perception in the Divine mind, as we do. But he erred in this
respect: having made the perception of matter altogether objective, he
analysed it in its objectivity into perception (_idee_) and matter _per
se_. We should rather say that he attempted to do this: and of course he
failed, for the thing, as we have shown, is absolutely impossible.
Berkeley made no such attempt. He regarded the perception of matter as
not only totally objective, but as absolutely indivisible; and therefore
we are disposed to regard him as the greatest metaphysician of his own
country--(we do not mean Ireland; but England, Scotland, and
Ireland)--at the very least.
When this elaborate edition of Reid's works shall be completed--shall
have received its last consummate polish from the hand of its
accomplished editor--we promise to review the many important topics
(partly philosophical and partly physiological) which Sir William
Hamilton has discussed in a manner which is worthy of his own great
reputation, and which renders all compliment superfluous. We are assured
that the philosophical public is waiting with anxious impatience for the
completion of these discussions. In the mean time, we heartily recommend
the volume to the student of philosophy as one of the most important
works which our higher literature contains, and as one from which he
will derive equal gratification and instruction, whether he agrees with
its contents or not.
FOOTNOTES:
[22] _The Works of Thomas Reid, D.D._ Edited by SIR WILLIAM HAMILTON,
Bart., Professor of Logic and Metaphysics in the University of
Edinburgh; with Copious Notes and Supplementary Dissertations by the
Editor. Edinburgh: Maclachlan, Stewart, & Co. 1846.
[23] _Among the first._ He was not _the_ first. Berkeley had preceded
him in denouncing most unequivocally the whole theory of
representationism. The reason why Berkeley does not get the credit of
this is, because his performance is even more explicit and cogent than
his promise. He made no phrase about refuting the theory--he simply
refuted it. Reid _said_ the business--but Berkeley _did_ it. The two
greatest and most unaccountable blunders in the whole history of
philosophy are, probably Reid's allegations that Berkeley was a
representationist, and that he was an idealist; understanding by the
word _idealist_, one who denies the existence of a real external
universe. From every page of his writings, it is obvious that Berkeley
was neither the one of these nor the other, even in the remotest degree.
[24] _They err._--This, however, can scarcely be called an error. It is
the business of the sceptic at least to accept the principles generally
recognised, and to develop their conclusions, however absurd or
revolting. If the principles are false to begin with, that is no fault
of his, but of those at whose hands he received them.
[25] _Elements of the Philosophy of the Human Mind_. Part I. ch. i.
* * * * *
NOTE _in reference to an Article in our last Number, and to_ PROFESSOR
WILSON'S _Letter to the Editor of the Edinburgh Evening Courant, dated
30th June._
MESSRS BLACKWOOD regret to find that some observations regarding the
University of Edinburgh, contained in an article in their last Number,
should have occasioned feelings of pain and disapprobation in one of
their earliest and best supporters, Professor Wilson, of whose connexion
with the Magazine they are justly proud, and whose friendship they hope
ever to retain undiminished.
These observations did not at the time appear to them in the aspect in
which they now see that they may be regarded. They were fully assured of
the meaning and motives of the writer of the article in question, and
conscious themselves of the deepest respect and admiration for the
University of Edinburgh.
They are now, however, sensible that the passage referred to was liable
to objections which they know had not occurred to the writer of the
article, but which they, as the parties who have all along been
responsible for the management of the Magazine, ought to have seen and
obviated.
They deeply regret that through this error upon their part Professor
Wilson should have felt it necessary to disclaim what had thus
inadvertently been allowed to appear in their pages.
* * * * *
_Printed by William Blackwood and Sons, Edinburgh._