CHAPTER XXIX.

ORIGIN AND CHARACTER OF THE RELATION BETWEEN LANGUAGE AND IDEAS.

183. Many ideas seem to be like sensations and sentiments; simple

facts, incapable of decomposition, for which reason we cannot explain

them with words. Words illustrate ideas; but do they not sometimes also

confuse them? When we speak of an idea, we reflect upon it, and I have

already remarked[11] that the reflective force of our perceptive ideas

is much inferior to their direct force.

[11] See Book I., Chs. III. and XXIII.

184. We have sometimes thought that we do, perhaps, know things which

we imagine we do not know, and that we are ignorant of things we think

we know. It is certain that disputes have been had in all schools of

philosophy upon many ideas, without attaining any satisfactory result;

and yet these ideas ought to be sufficiently clear to our mind, since

we all use them every day without any equivocation. Philosophers have

not, as yet, been able to agree upon the ideas of space and time, but

the most ignorant men, nevertheless, make use of these words, and

whenever the necessity occurs, apply them with exactness. This seems to

prove that the difficulty is not in the idea but in its explanation.

185. It has been remarked that there is great truth and exactness in

ordinary language, so much so, that the careful observer is astonished

at the recondite wisdom hidden in a language; to see how great, how

various, and how delicate are the gradations into which the sense of

words is distributed. This is not the fruit of reflection; it is the

work of reason operating directly, and consequently making use of ideas

without reflecting upon them.

186. In ideological investigations some idea of the idea is sought,

and it is not noted that if this be necessary to science, another idea

of the other idea may be exacted, and that thus an infinite process

may be given. It ought to be borne in mind that in treating of simple

facts, as well external as internal, no other explanation of them can

be demanded than an exposition.

187. _Idea-images_ are a font of error, and probably all ideas

explicable by words are not less so. An _idea-image_ induces the belief

that there are in our mind no ideas but sensible representations, and

the supposition that every idea can be expressed by words, makes us

imagine that to be composite which is simple, and attribute to the

substance what belongs to the form.

188. A composite idea seems to be a union, or rather a connected series

of ideas, which are either excited simultaneously, or follow each other

with great rapidity. Our understanding requires words to bind this

collection, to retain the thread which connects them; and hence it is,

that when the idea is simple, language is not indispensable. It is said

that speech is necessary in order to think, it might sometimes be said

with more propriety, that it is necessary in order to _recollect_.

189. When the object occupying our attention is offered to the sensible

intuition, we have no need of speech. We can, when we reflect upon

a right line, an angle, a triangle, observe that their imaginary

representation is all that we require, and that we do not need to bind

these objects together by words. The same thing happens in thinking

of unity, or on the numbers two, three, and four, which we easily

represent to ourselves sensibly. The necessity for speech begins when

the imagination loses the distinct representation of objects, and needs

to combine various ideas. Did we not assign to a word the idea of a

many-sided polygon, we should be in the greatest confusion, and it

would be impossible for us to reason upon it.

190. Since, on the one hand, our perceptive faculties do not create

their objects, but are limited to the combining of them; and, on the

other hand, our perception is not capable of embracing many at one

time, it results that the exercise of our faculties is necessarily

successive; the unity of consciousness serving as the bond of union

to our perceptions. But consciousness has no other means of knowing

what passes within it, than to fix its operations by determinate

signs, whence flows the necessity of arbitrary signs, which must be

sensible, by reason of the relation uniting our intelligence with the

sensitive faculties: and it is to be observed, that for this reason,

every sign to which we assign an idea, may be the object of one of the

senses. The great number and variety of ideas and their combinations,

require an exceedingly variable and flexible sign, and this variety

and flexibility require certain characters to simplify it, and thus

render its retention in the memory more easy, whence the advantages

of language: in the midst of its astonishing variety it lays these

characters in radical syllables. The conjugation of a single verb

alone offers us a considerable number of very different ideas, the

retention of which would be excessively difficult, were they not joined

by some tie such as the radical syllable: as in the verb to speak, the

syllable speak. We see this by the greater labor the irregular verbs

cost us than do the regular verbs when learning a language: and it may

be remarked in children also, who blunder on the irregularities. We

might compare language to the catalogue of a library, which is the more

perfect, the more it unites simplicity with variety, so as to designate

exactly the classes of the books and the shelves whereon they are to be

found.

191. _Succession of ideas and operations_; here, then, originates the

necessity of a sign by which to connect and recollect them: _relation

of our understanding with the sensitive faculties_, is the reason

why the signs must be sensible; _variety and simplicity of language_

constitutes its merit so far as the sign of ideas.[12]

[12] See Bk. I., Ch. XXVI.

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