Modern Idealism, if it asserts any general conclusion about the
universe at all, asserts that it is _spiritual._ There are two points
about this assertion to which I wish to call attention. These points
are that, whatever be its exact meaning, it is certainly meant to
assert (1) that the universe is very different indeed from what it
seems, and (2) that it has quite a large number of properties which it
does not seem to have. Chairs and tables and mountains _seem_ to be
very different from us; but, when the whole universe is declared to
be spiritual, it is certainly meant to assert that they are far more
like us than we think. The idealist means to assert that they are _in
some sense_ neither lifeless nor unconscious, as they certainly seem
to be; and I do not think his language is so grossly deceptive, but
that we may assume him to believe that they really are very different
indeed from what they seem. And secondly when he declares that they
are _spiritual,_ he means to include in that term quite a large number
of different properties. When the whole universe is declared to be
spiritual, it is meant not only that it is in some sense _conscious,_
but that it has what we recognise in ourselves as the _higher_ forms of
consciousness. That it is intelligent; that it is purposeful; that it
is not mechanical; all these different things are commonly asserted
of it. In general, it may be said, this phrase 'reality is spiritual'
excites and expresses the belief that the _whole_ universe possesses
_all the qualities_ the possession of which is held to make us so
superior to things which seem to be inanimate: at least, if it does not
possess exactly those which we possess, it possesses not one only, but
several others, which, by the same ethical standard, would be judged
equal to or better than our own. When we say it is _spiritual_ we mean
to say that it has quite a number of excellent qualities, different
from any which we commonly attribute either to stars or planets or to
cups and saucers.
Now why I mention these two points is that when engaged in the
intricacies of philosophic discussion, we are apt to overlook the
vastness of the difference between this idealistic view and the
ordinary view of the world, and to overlook the number of _different_
propositions which the idealist must prove. It is, I think, owing to
the vastness of this difference and owing to the number of different
excellences which Idealists attribute to the universe, that it seems
such an interesting and important question whether Idealism be true or
not. But, when we begin to argue about it, I think we are apt to forget
what a vast number of arguments this interesting question must involve:
we are apt to assume, that if one or two points be made on either side,
the whole case is won. I say this lest it should be thought that any of
the arguments which will be advanced in this paper would be sufficient
to disprove, or any refutation of them sufficient to prove, the truly
interesting and important proposition that reality is spiritual. For my
own part I wish it to be clearly understood that I do not suppose that
anything I shall say has the smallest tendency to prove that reality
is not spiritual: I do not believe it possible to refute a single one
of the many important propositions contained in the assertion that it
is so. Reality may be spiritual, for all I know; and I devoutly hope
it is. But I take 'Idealism' to be a wide term and to include not
only this interesting conclusion but a number of arguments which are
supposed to be, if not sufficient, at least _necessary,_ to prove it.
Indeed I take it that modern Idealists are chiefly distinguished by
certain arguments which they have in common. That reality is spiritual
has, I believe, been the tenet of many theologians; and yet, for
believing that alone, they should hardly be called Idealists. There
are besides, I believe, many persons, not improperly called Idealists,
who hold certain characteristic propositions, without venturing to
think them quite sufficient to prove so grand a conclusion. It is,
therefore, only with Idealistic _arguments_ that I am concerned; and
if any Idealist holds that _no_ argument is necessary to prove that
reality is spiritual, I shall certainly not have refuted him. I shall,
however, attack at least one argument, which, to the best of my belief,
is considered necessary to their position by _all_ Idealists. And
I wish to point out a certain advantage which this procedure gives
me--an advantage which justifies the assertion that, if my arguments
are sound, they will have refuted Idealism. If I can refute a single
proposition which is a necessary and essential step in all Idealistic
arguments, then, no matter how good the rest of these arguments may be,
I shall have proved that Idealists have _no reason whatever_ for their
conclusion.
Suppose we have a chain of argument which takes the form: Since A is
B, and B is C, and C is D, it follows A is D. In such an argument,
though 'B is C' and 'C is D' may both be perfectly true, yet if 'A
is B' be false, we have no more reason for asserting A is D than if
all three were false. It does not, indeed, follow that A is D is
false; nor does it follow that no other arguments would prove it to
be true. But it does follow that, so far as this argument goes, it is
the barest supposition, without the least bit of evidence. I propose
to attack a proposition which seems to me to stand in this relation
to the conclusion 'Reality is spiritual.' I do not propose to dispute
that 'Reality is spiritual;' I do not deny that there may be reasons
for thinking that it is: but I do propose to show that one reason upon
which, to the best of my judgment, all other arguments ever used by
Idealists depend is _false._ These other arguments may, for all I shall
say, be eminently ingenious and true; they are very many and various,
and different Idealists use the most different arguments to prove the
same most important conclusions. Some of these _may_ be sufficient to
prove that B is C and C is D; but if, as I shall try to show, their 'A
is B' is false the conclusion A is D remains a pleasant supposition.
I do not deny that to suggest pleasant and plausible suppositions may
be the proper function of philosophy: but I am assuming that the name
Idealism can only be properly applied where there is a certain amount
of argument, intended to be cogent.
The subject of this paper is, therefore, quite uninteresting. Even
if I prove my point, I shall have proved nothing about the Universe
in general. Upon the important question whether Reality is or is not
spiritual my argument will not have the remotest bearing. I shall only
attempt to arrive at the truth about a matter, which is in itself quite
trivial and insignificant, and from which, so far as I can see and
certainly so far as I shall say, no conclusions can be drawn about any
of the subjects about which we most want to know. The only importance
I can claim for the subject I shall investigate is that it seems to me
to be a matter upon which not Idealists only, but all philosophers and
psychologists also, have been in error, and from their erroneous view
of which they have inferred (validly or invalidly) their most striking
and interesting conclusions. And that it has even this importance I
cannot hope to prove. If it has this importance, it will indeed follow
that all the most striking results of philosophy--Sensationalism.
Agnosticism and Idealism alike--have, for all that has hitherto been
urged in their favour, no more foundation than the supposition that
a chimera lives in the moon. It will follow that, unless new reasons
never urged hitherto can be found, all the most important philosophic
doctrines have as little claim to assent as the most superstitious
beliefs of the lowest savages. Upon the question what we have _reason_
to believe in the most interesting matters, I do therefore think that
my results will have an important bearing; but I cannot too clearly
insist that upon the question whether these beliefs are true they will
have none whatever.
The trivial proposition which I propose to dispute is this: that _esse_
is _percipi._ This is a very ambiguous proposition, but, in some sense
or other, it has been very widely held. That it is, in some sense,
essential to Idealism, I must for the present merely assume. What I
propose to show is that, in all the senses ever given to it, it is
false.
But, first of all, it may be useful to point out briefly in what
relation I conceive it to stand to Idealistic arguments. That wherever
you can truly predicate _esse_ you can truly predicate _percipi_, in
some sense or other, is, I take it, a necessary step In all arguments,
properly to be called Idealistic, and, what is more, in all arguments
hitherto offered for the Idealistic conclusion. If _esse_ is
_percipi,_ this is at once equivalent to saying that whatever is, is
experienced; and this, again, is equivalent, in a sense, to saying that
whatever is, is something mental. But this is not the sense in which
the Idealist _conclusion_ must maintain that Reality is _mental._ The
Idealist _conclusion_ is that _esse_ is _percipere_; and hence, whether
_esse_ be _percipi_ or not, a further and different discussion is
needed to show whether or not it is also _percipere._ And again, even
if _esse_ be _percipere_, we need a vast quantity of further argument
to show that what has _esse_ has also those higher mental qualities
which are denoted by spiritual. This is why I said that the question
I should discuss, namely, whether or not _esse is percipi_, must be
utterly insufficient either to prove or to disprove that reality is
spiritual. But, on the other hand, I believe that every argument ever
used to show that reality is spiritual has inferred this (validly or
invalidly) from '_esse_ is _percipere'_ as one of its premisses; and
that this again has never been pretended to be proved except by use of
the premiss that _esse_ is _percipi._ The type of argument used for the
latter purpose is familiar enough. It is said that since whatever is,
is experienced, and since some things are which are not experienced by
the individual, these must at least form part of some experience. Or
again that, since an object necessarily implies a subject, and since
the whole world must be an object, we must conceive it to belong to
some subject or subjects, in the same sense in which whatever is the
object of our experience belongs to us. Or again, that, since thought
enters into the essence of all reality, we must conceive behind it, in
it, or as its essence, a spirit akin to ours, who think: that 'spirit
greets spirit' in its object. Into the validity of these inferences
I do not propose to enter: they obviously require a great deal of
discussion. I only desire to point out that, however correct they may
be, yet if _esse_ is not _percipi,_ they leave us as far from a proof
that reality is spiritual, as if they were all false too.
But now: Is _esse percipi?_ There are three very ambiguous terms in
this proposition, and I must begin by distinguishing the different
things that may be meant by some of them.
And first with regard to _percipi._ This term need not trouble us
long at present. It was, perhaps, originally used to mean 'sensation'
only; but I am not going to be so unfair to modern Idealists--the
only Idealists to whom the term should now be applied without
qualification--as to hold that, if they say _esse_ is _percipi_, they
mean by _percipi_ sensation only. On the contrary I quite agree with
them that, if _esse_ be _percipi_ at all, _percipi_ must be understood
to include not sensation only, but that other type of mental fact,
which is called 'thought '; and, whether _esse_ be _percipi_ or not, I
consider it to be the main service of the philosophic school, to which
modern Idealists belong, that they have insisted on distinguishing
'sensation' and 'thought' and on emphasising the importance of the
latter. Against Sensationalism and Empiricism they have maintained the
true view. But the distinction between sensation and thought need not
detain us here. For, in whatever respects they differ, they have at
least this in common, that they are both forms of consciousness or, to
use a term that seems to be more in fashion just now, they are both
ways of experiencing. Accordingly, whatever _esse_ is _percipi_ may
mean, it does _at least_ assert that whatever is, is _experienced._
And since what I wish to maintain is, that even this is untrue, the
question whether it be experienced by way of sensation or thought or
both is for my purpose quite irrelevant. If it be not experienced at
all, it cannot be either an object of thought or an object of sense.
It is only if being involves 'experience' that the question, whether
it involves sensation or thought or both, becomes important. I beg,
therefore, that _percipi_ may be understood, in what follows, to refer
merely to what is _common_ to sensation and thought. A very recent
article states the meaning of _esse_ is _percipi_ with all desirable
clearness in so far as _percipi_ is concerned.
'I will undertake to show,' says Mr. Taylor,[1] 'that what makes [any
piece of fact] real can be nothing but its presence as an inseparable
aspect of _a sentient experience_.' I am glad to think that Mr. Taylor
has been in time to supply me with so definite a statement that this
is the ultimate premiss of Idealism. My paper will at least refute
Mr. Taylor's Idealism, if it refutes anything at all: for I _shall_
undertake to show that what makes a thing real cannot possibly be its
presence as an inseparable aspect of a senient experience.
But Mr. Taylor's statement though clear, I think, with regard to
the meaning of _percipi_ is highly ambiguous in other respects. I
will leave it for the present to consider the next ambiguity in the
statement: _Esse_ is _percipi._ What does the copula mean? What can be
meant by saying that Esse _is_ percipi? There are just three meanings,
one or other of which such a statement _must_ have, if it is to be
true; and of these there is only one which it can have, if it is to
be important. (1) The statement may be meant to assert that the word
'esse' is used to signify nothing either more or less than the word
'percipi': that the two words are precise synonyms: that they are
merely different names for one and the same thing: that what is meant
by _esse_ is absolutely identical with what is meant by _percipi._
I think I need not prove that the principle _esse_ is _percipi_ is
_not_ thus intended merely to define a word; nor yet that, if it were,
it would be an extremely bad definition. But if it does _not_ mean
this, only two alternatives remain. The second is (2) that what is
meant by _esse,_ though not absolutely identical with what is meant by
_percipi_, yet _includes_ the latter as a _part_ of its meaning. If
this were the meaning of 'esse is percipi,' then to say that a thing
was real would not be the same thing as to say that it was experienced.
That it was _real_ would mean that it was experienced and _something
else besides_: 'being experienced' would be _analytically essential_
to reality, but would not be the whole meaning of the term. From the
fact that a thing was real we should be able to infer, by the law of
contradiction, that it was experienced; since the latter would be
_part_ of what is meant by the former. But, on the other hand, from the
fact a thing was experienced we should _not_ be able to infer that it
was real; since it would not follow from the fact that it had one of
the attributes essential to reality, that it _also_ had the other or
others. Now, if we understand _esse_ is _percipi_ in this second sense,
we must distinguish _three_ different things which it asserts. First of
all, it gives a definition of the word 'reality,' asserting that word
stands for a complex whole, of which what is meant by 'percipi' forms
a part. And secondly it asserts that 'being experienced' forms a part
of a certain whole. Both these propositions may be true, and at all
events I do not wish to dispute them. I do not, indeed, think that the
word 'reality' is commonly used to include 'percipi': but I do not wish
to argue about the meaning of words. And that many things which are
experienced are also something else--that to be experienced forms part
of certain wholes, is, of course, indisputable. But what I wish to
point out is, that neither of these propositions is of any importance,
unless we add to them a _third._ That 'real' is a convenient name for a
union of attributes which _sometimes_ occurs, it could not be worth any
one's while to assert: no inferences of any importance could be drawn
from such an assertion. Our principle could only mean that when a thing
happens to have _percipi_ as well as the other qualities included under
_esse,_ it has _percipi_: and we should never be able to _infer_ that
it was experienced, except from a proposition which already asserted
that it was both experienced and something else. Accordingly, if the
assertion that _percipi_ forms part of the whole meant by reality is
to have any importance, it must mean that the whole is organic, at
least in this sense, that the other constituent or constituents of it
_cannot_ occur without percipi, even if percipi can occur without them.
Let us call these other constituents _x._ The proposition that _esse_
includes _percipi,_ and that therefore from _esse percipi_ can be
inferred, can only be important if it is meant to assert that _percipi_
can be inferred from _x._ The only importance of the question whether
the whole _esse_ includes the part _percipi_ rests therefore on the
question whether the part _x_ is necessarily connected with the part
_percipi._ And this is (3) the third possible meaning of the assertion
_esse is percipi:_ and, as we now see, the only important one. _Esse_
is _percipi_ asserts that wherever you have _x_ you also have _percipi_
that whatever has the property _x_ also has the property that it is
_experienced._ And this being so, it will be convenient if, for the
future, I may be allowed to use the term '_esse_' to denote _x alone._
I do not wish thereby to beg the question whether what we commonly mean
by the word 'real' does or does not include _percipi_ as well as _x._ I
am quite content that my definition of 'esse' to denote _x_, should be
regarded merely as an arbitrary verbal definition. Whether it is so or
not, the only question of interest is whether from _x percipi_ can be
inferred, and I should prefer to be able to express this in the form:
can _percipi_ be inferred from _esse?_ Only let it be understood that
when I say _esse,_ that term will not for the future _include percipi_:
it denotes only that _x,_ which Idealists, perhaps rightly, include
_along with percipi_ under _their_ term _esse._ That there is such an
_x_ they must admit on pain of making the proposition an _absolute_
tautology; and that from this _x percipi_ can be inferred they must
admit, on pain of making it a perfectly barren analytic proposition.
Whether _x_ done should or should not be called _esse_ is not worth
a dispute: what is worth dispute is whether _percipi_ is necessarily
connected with _x._
We have therefore discovered the ambiguity of the copula in _esse_ is
_percipi,_ so far as to see that this principle asserts two distinct
terms to be so related, that whatever has the _one,_ which I call
_esse,_ has _also_ the property that it is experienced. It asserts a
necessary connexion between _esse_ on the one hand and _percipi_ on
the other; these two words denoting each a distinct term, and _esse_
denoting a term in which that denoted by _percipi_ is not included. We
have, then in _esse_ is _percipi,_ a _necessary synthetic_ proposition
which I have undertaken to refute. And I may say at once that,
understood as such, it cannot be refuted. If the Idealist chooses to
assert that it is merely a self-evident truth, I have only to say that
it does not appear to me to be so. But I believe that no Idealist ever
has maintained it to be so. Although this--that two distinct terms are
necessarily related--is the only sense which 'esse is percipi' can have
if it is to be true and important, it _can_ have another sense, if it
is to be an important falsehood. I believe that Idealists all hold this
important falsehood. They do not perceive that _Esse_ is _percipi_
must, if true, be _merely_ a self-evident synthetic truth: they either
identify with it or give as a reason for it another proposition which
must be false because it is self-contradictory. Unless they did so,
they would have to admit that it was a perfectly unfounded assumption;
and if they recognised that it was _unfounded,_ I do not think they
would maintain its truth to be evident. _Esse_ is _percipi,_ in the
sense I have found for it, _may_ indeed be true; I cannot, refute it:
but if this sense were clearly apprehended, no one, I think, would
_believe_ that it was true.
Idealists, we have seen, must assert that whatever is experienced,
is _necessarily_ so. And this doctrine they commonly express by
saying that 'the object of experience is inconceivable apart from the
subject.' I have hitherto been concerned with pointing out what meaning
this assertion must have, if it is to be an important truth. I now
propose to show that it may have an important meaning, which must be
false, because it is self-contradictory.
It is a well-known fact in the history of philosophy that _necessary_
truths in general, but especially those of which it is said that
the opposite is inconceivable, have been commonly supposed to be
_analytic,_ in the sense that the proposition denying them was
self-contradictory. It was in this way, commonly supposed, before Kant,
that many truths could be proved by the law of contradiction alone.
This is, therefore, a mistake which it is plainly easy for the best
philosophers to make. Even since Kant many have continued to assert
it; but I am aware that among those Idealists, who most properly
deserve the name, it has become more fashionable to assert that truths
are _both_ analytic and synthetic. Now with many of their reasons
for asserting this I am not concerned: it is possible that in some
connexions the assertion may bear a useful and true sense. But if we
understand 'analytic' in the sense just defined, namely, what is proved
by the law of contradiction _alone_, it is plain that, if 'synthetic'
means what is _not_ proved by this alone, no truth can be both analytic
and synthetic. Now it seems to me that those who do maintain truths to
be both, do nevertheless maintain that they are so in this as well as
in other senses. It is, indeed, extremely unlikely that so essential
a part of the historical meaning of 'analytic' and 'synthetic' should
have been entirely discarded, especially since we find no express
recognition that it is discarded. In that case it is fair to suppose
that modern Idealists have been influenced by the view that certain
truths can be proved by the law of contradiction alone. I admit they
also expressly declare that they can _not:_ but this is by no means
sufficient to prove that they do not also think they are; since it is
very easy to hold two mutually contradictory opinions. What I suggest
then is that Idealists hold the particular doctrine in question,
concerning the relation of subject and object in experience, because
they think it is an analytic truth in this restricted sense that it is
proved by the law of contradiction alone.
I am suggesting that the Idealist maintains that object and subject are
necessarily connected, mainly because he fails to see that they are
_distinct_, that they are _two,_ at all. When he thinks of 'yellow'
and when he thinks of the 'sensation of yellow,' he fails to see that
there is anything whatever in the latter which is not in the former.
This being so, to deny that yellow can ever _be_ apart from the
sensation of yellow is merely to deny that yellow can ever be other
than it is; since yellow and the sensation of yellow are absolutely
identical. To assert that yellow is necessarily an object of experience
is to assert that yellow is necessarily yellow--a purely identical
proposition, and therefore proved by the law of contradiction alone.
Of course, the proposition also implies that experience is, after all,
something distinct from yellow--else there would be no reason for
insisting that yellow is a sensation: and that the argument thus both
affirms and denies that yellow and sensation of yellow are distinct,
is what sufficiently refutes it. But this contradiction can easily
be overlooked, because though we are convinced, in other connexions,
that 'experience' does mean something and something most important,
yet we are never distinctly aware _what_ it means, and thus in every
particular case we do not notice its presence. The facts present
themselves as a kind of antinomy:
(1) Experience _is_ something unique and different from anything else;
(2) Experience of green is entirely indistinguishable from green; two
propositions which cannot both be true. Idealists, holding both, can
only take refuge in arguing from the one in some connexions and from
the other in others.
But I am well aware that there are many Idealists who would repel it
as an utterly unfounded charge that they fail to distinguish between
a sensation or idea and what I will call its object. And there are, I
admit, many who not only imply, as we all do, that green is distinct
from the sensation of green, but expressly insist upon the distinction
as an important part of their system. They would perhaps only assert
that the two form an inseparable unity. But I wish to point out that
many, who use this phrase, and who do admit the distinction, are not
thereby absolved from the charge that they deny it. For there is a
certain doctrine, very prevalent among philosophers nowadays, which by
a very simple reduction may be seen to assert that two distinct things
both are and are not distinct. A distinction is asserted; but it is
_also_ asserted that the things distinguished form an 'organic unity,'
But, forming such a unity, it is held, each would not be what it is
_apart from its relation to the other._ Hence to consider either by
itself is to make an _illegitimate abstraction._ The recognition that
there are 'organic unities' and 'illegitimate abstractions' in this
sense is regarded as one of the chief conquests of modern philosophy.
But what is the sense attached to these terms? An abstraction is
illegitimate, when and only when we attempt to assert of _a part_--of
something abstracted--that which is true only of the _whole_ to which
it belongs: and it may perhaps be useful to point out that this should
not be done. But the application actually made of this principle,
and what perhaps would be expressly acknowledged as its meaning, is
something much the reverse of useful. The principle is used to assert
that certain abstractions are _in all cases_ illegitimate; that
whenever you try to assert _anything whatever_ of that which is _part_
of an organic whole, what you assert can only be true of the whole.
And this principle, so far from being a useful truth, is necessarily
false. For if the whole can, nay _must,_ be substituted for the part
in all propositions and for all purposes, this can only be because the
whole is absolutely identical with the part. When, therefore, we are
told that green and the sensation of green are certainly distinct but
yet are not separable, or that it is an illegitimate abstraction to
consider the one apart from the other, what these provisos are used
to assert is, that though the two things are distinct yet you not
only can but must treat them as if they were not. Many philosophers,
therefore, when they admit a distinction, yet (following the lead
of Hegel) boldly assert their right, in a slightly more obscure form
of words, _also_ to deny it. The principle of organic unities, like
that of combined analysis and synthesis, is mainly used to defend the
practice of holding _both_ of two contradictory propositions, wherever
this may seem convenient. In this, as in other matters, Hegel's main
service to philosophy has consisted in giving a name to and erecting
into a principle, a type of fallacy to which experience had shown
philosophers, along with the rest of mankind, to be addicted. No wonder
that he has followers and admirers.
I have shown then, so far, that when the Idealist asserts the important
principle 'Esse is _percipi'_ he must, if it is to be true, mean by
this that: Whatever is experienced also _must_ be experienced. And
I have also shown that he _may_ identify with, or give as a reason
for, this proposition, one which must be false, because it is self
contradictory. But at this point I propose to make a complete break
in my argument. '_Esse_ is _percipi_,' we have seen, asserts of two
terms, as distinct from one another as 'green' and 'sweet,' that
whatever has the one has also the other: it asserts that 'being' and
'being experienced' are necessarily connected: that whatever _is_ is
_also_ experienced. And this, I admit, cannot be directly refuted.
But I believe it to be false; and I have asserted that anybody who
saw that '_esse_ and _percipi_' _were_ as distinct as 'green' and
'sweet' would be no more ready to believe that whatever _is_ is _also_
experienced, than to believe that whatever is green is also sweet. I
have asserted that no one would believe that '_esse_ is _percipi_'
if they saw how different _esse_ is from _percipi:_ but _this_ I
shall not try to prove. I have asserted that all who do believe that
'_esse_ is _percipi_' identify with it or take as a reason for it a
self-contradictory proposition: but this I shall not try to prove. I
shall only try to show that certain propositions which I assert to be
believed, are false. That they are believed, and that without this
belief '_esse_ is _percipi'_ would not be believed either, I must leave
without a proof.
I pass, then, from the uninteresting question 'Is _'esse percipi?'_ to
the still more uninteresting and apparently irrelevant question 'What
is a sensation or idea?'
We all know that the sensation of blue differs from that of green. But
it is plain that if both are _sensations_ they also have some point in
common. What is it that they have in common? And how is this common
element related to the points in which they differ?
I will call the common element 'consciousness' without yet attempting
to say what the thing I so call _is._ We have then in every sensation
two distinct terms, (1) 'consciousness,' in respect of which all
sensations are alike; and (2) something else, in respect of which one
sensation differs from another. It will be convenient if I may be
allowed to call this second term the 'object' of a sensation: this also
without yet attempting to say what I mean by the word.
We have then in every sensation two distinct elements, one which I call
consciousness, and another which I call the object of consciousness.
This must be so if the sensation of blue and the sensation of green,
though different in one respect, are alike in another: blue is one
object of sensation and green is another, and consciousness, which both
sensations have in common, is different from either.
But, further, sometimes the sensation of blue exists in my mind and
sometimes it does not; and knowing, as we now do, that the sensation of
blue includes two different elements, namely consciousness and blue,
the question arises whether, when the sensation of blue exists, it is
the consciousness which exists, or the blue which exists, or both.
And one point at least is plain: namely that these three alternatives
are all different from one another. So that, if any one tells us that
to say 'Blue exists' is the _same_ thing as to say that 'Both blue
and consciousness exist,' he makes a mistake and a self-contradictory
mistake.
But another point is also plain, namely, that when the sensation
exists, the consciousness, at least, certainly does exist; for when I
say that the sensations of blue and of green both exist, I certainly
mean that what is common to both and in virtue of which both are
called sensations, exists in each case. The only alternative left,
then, is that _either_ both exist or the consciousness exists alone.
If, therefore, any one tells us that the existence of blue is the same
thing as the existence of the sensation of blue he makes a mistake and
a self-contradictory mistake, for he asserts _either_ that blue is the
same thing as blue together with consciousness, _or_ that it is the
same thing as consciousness alone.
Accordingly to identify either "blue" or any other of what I have
called "_objects_" of sensation, with the corresponding sensation is
in every case, a self-contradictory error. It is to identify a part
either with the whole of which it is a part or else with the other part
of the same whole. If we are told that the assertion "Blue exists" is
_meaningless_ unless we mean by it that "The sensation of blue exists,"
we are told what is certainly false and self-contradictory. If we
are told that the existence of blue is inconceivable apart from the
existence of the sensation, the speaker _probably_ means to convey to
us, by this ambiguous expression, what is a self-contradictory error.
For we can and must conceive the existence of blue as something quite
distinct from the existence of the sensation. We can and must conceive
that blue might exist and yet the sensation of blue not exist. For my
own part I not only conceive this, but conceive it to be true. Either
therefore this terrific assertion of inconceivability means what is
false and self-contradictory or else it means only that _as a matter of
fact_ blue never can exist unless the sensation of it exists also.
And at this point I need not conceal my opinion that no philosopher
has ever yet succeeded in avoiding this self-contradictory error: that
the most striking results both of Idealism and of Agnosticism are only
obtained by identifying blue with the sensation of blue: that _esse_
is held to be _percipi,_ solely because _what is experienced_ is held
to be identical with _the experience of it._ That Berkeley and Mill
committed this error will, perhaps, be granted: that modern Idealists
make it will, I hope, appear more probable later. But that my opinion
is plausible, I will now offer two pieces of evidence. The first is
that language offers us no means of referring to such objects as "blue"
and "green" and "sweet," except by calling them sensations: it is an
obvious violation of language to call them "things" or "objects" or
"terms." And similarly we have no natural means of referring to such
objects as "causality" or "likeness" or "identity," except by calling
them "ideas" or "notions" or "conceptions." But it is hardly likely
that if philosophers had clearly distinguished in the past between a
sensation or idea and what I have called its object, there should have
been no separate name for the latter. They have always used the same
name for these two different "things" (if I may call them so): and
hence there is some probability that they have supposed these "things"
_not_ to be two and different, but one and the same. And, secondly,
there is a very good reason why they should have supposed so, in the
fact that when we refer to introspection and try to discover what the
sensation of blue is, it is very easy to suppose that we have before
us only a single term. The term "blue" is easy enough to distinguish,
but the other element which I have called "consciousness"--that which
sensation of blue has in common with sensation of green--is extremely
difficult to fix. That many people fail to distinguish it at all is
sufficiently shown by the fact that there are materialists. And, in
general, that which makes the sensation of blue a mental fact seems to
escape us: it seems, if I may use a metaphor, to be transparent--we
look through it and see nothing but the blue; we may be convinced that
there _is something_ but _what_ it is no philosopher, I think, has yet
clearly recognised.
But this was a digression. The point I had established so far was
that in every sensation or idea we must distinguish two elements,
(1) the "object," or that in which one differs from another; and (2)
"consciousness," or that which all have in common--that which makes
them sensations or mental facts. This being so, it followed that when
a sensation or idea exists, we have to choose between the alternatives
that either object alone, or consciousness alone, or both, exist;
and I showed that of these alternatives one, namely that the object
only exists, is excluded by the fact that what we mean to assert is
certainly the existence of a mental fact. There remains the question:
Do both exist? Or does the consciousness alone? And to this question
one answer has hitherto been given universally: That both exist.
This answer follows from the analysis hitherto accepted of the relation
of what I have called "object" to "consciousness" in any sensation or
idea. It is held that what I call the object is merely the "content" of
a sensation or idea. It is held that in each case we can distinguish
two elements and two only, (1) the fact that there is feeling or
experience, and (2) _what_ is felt or experienced; the sensation or
idea, it is said, forms a whole, in which we must distinguish two
"inseparable aspects," "content" and "existence." I shall try to show
that this analysis is false; and for that purpose I must ask what may
seem an extraordinary question: namely what is meant by saying that one
thing is "content" of another? It is not usual to ask this question;
the term is used as if everybody must understand it. But since I am
going to maintain that "blue" is _not_ the content of the sensation of
blue, and what is more important, that, even if it were this analysis
would leave out the most important element in the sensation of blue, it
is necessary that I should try to explain precisely what it is that I
shall deny.
What then is meant by saying that one thing is the "content" of
another? First of all I wish to point out that "blue" is rightly
and properly said to be part of the content of a blue flower. If,
therefore, we also assert that it is part of the content of the
sensation of blue, we assert that it has to the other parts (if any)
of this whole the same relation which it has to the other parts of
a blue flower--and we assert only this: we cannot mean to assert
that it has to the sensation of blue any relation which it does not
have to the blue flower. And we have seen that the sensation of blue
contains at least one other element beside blue--namely, what I call
"consciousness," which makes it a sensation. So far then as we assert
that blue is the content of the sensation, we assert that it has to
this "consciousness" the same relation which it has to the other parts
of a blue flower: we do assert this, and we assert no more than this.
Into the question what exactly the relation is between blue and a blue
flower in virtue of which we call the former part of its "content" I
do not propose to enter. It is sufficient for my purpose to point out
that it is the general relation most commonly meant when we talk of a
thing and its qualities; and that this relation is such that to say the
thing exists implies that the qualities also exist. The _content_ of
the thing is _what_ we assert to exist, when we assert _that_ the thing
exists.
When, therefore, blue is said to be part of the content of the
"sensation of blue," the latter is treated as if it were a whole
constituted in exactly the same way as any other "thing." The
"sensation of blue," on this view, differs from a blue bead or a blue
beard, in exactly the same way in which the two latter differ from one
another: the blue bead differs from the blue beard, in that while the
former contains glass, the latter contains hair; and the "sensation
of blue" differs from both in that, instead of glass or hair, it
contains consciousness. The relation of the blue to the consciousness
is conceived to be exactly the same as that of the blue to the glass or
hair: it is in all three cases the _quality_ of a _thing._
But I said just now that the sensation of blue was analysed into
"content" and "existence," and that blue was said to be _the_ content
of the idea of blue. There is an ambiguity in this and a possible
error, which I must note in passing. The term "content" may be used
in two senses. If we use "content" as equivalent to what Mr. Bradley
calls the "_what_"--if we mean by it the _whole_ of what is said to
exist, when the thing is said to exist, then blue is certainly not
_the_ content of the sensation of blue: part of the _content_ of the
sensation is, in this sense of the term, that other element which I
have called consciousness. The analysis of this sensation into the
"content" "blue," on the one hand, and mere existence on the other, is
therefore certainly false; in it we have again the self-contradictory
identification of "Blue exists" with "The sensation of blue exists,"
But there is another sense in which "blue" might properly be said to be
_the_ content of the sensation--namely, the sense in which "content,"
like _εἴδος_ is opposed to "substance" or "matter." For the element
"consciousness," being common to all sensations, may be and certainly
is regarded as in some sense their "substance," and by the "content"
of each is only meant that in respect of which one differs from
another. In this sense then "blue" might be said to be _the_ content
of the sensation; but, in that case, the analysis into "content" and
"existence" is, at least, misleading, since under "existence" must be
included "_what_ exists" in the sensation other than blue.
We have it, then, as a universally received opinion that blue is
related to the sensation or idea of blue, as its _content_, and
that this view, if it is to be true, must mean that blue is part of
_what_ is said to exist when we say that the sensation exists. To say
that the sensation exists is to say both that blue exists and that
"consciousness," whether we call it the substance of which blue is
_the_ content or call it another part of the content, exists too. Any
sensation or idea is a "_thing,_" and what I have called its object is
the quality of this thing. Such a "thing" is what we think of when we
think of a _mental image._ A mental image is conceived as if it were
related to that of which it is the image (if there be any such thing)
in exactly the same way as the image in a looking-glass is related to
that of which it is the reflection; in both cases there is identity
of content, and the image in the looking-glass differs from that
in the mind solely in respect of the fact that in the one case the
other constituent of the image is "glass" and in the other case it is
consciousness. If the image is of blue, it is not conceived that this
"content" has any relation to the consciousness but what it has to the
glass: it Is conceived _merely_ to be its _content._ And owing to the
fact that sensations and ideas are all considered to be _wholes_ of
this description--things in the mind--the question: What do we know?
is considered to be identical with the question: What reason have we
for supposing that there are things outside the mind _corresponding_ to
these that are inside it?
What I wish to point out is (1) that we have no reason for supposing
that there are such things as mental images at all--for supposing that
blue _is_ part of the content of the sensation of blue, and (2) that
even if there are mental images, no mental image and no sensation or
idea is _merely_ a thing of this kind: that 'blue,' even if it is
part of the content of the image or sensation or idea of blue, is
always _also_ related to it in quite another way, and that this other
relation, omitted in the traditional analysis, is the _only_ one which
makes the sensation of blue a mental fact at all.
The true analysis of a sensation or idea is as follows. The element
that is common to them all, and which I have called "consciousness,"
really _is_ consciousness. A sensation is, in reality, a case of
'knowing' or 'being aware of' or 'experiencing' something. When we
know that the sensation of blue exists, the fact we know is that
there exists an awareness of blue. And this awareness is not merely,
as we have hitherto seen it must be, itself something distinct and
unique, utterly different from blue: it also has a perfectly distinct
and unique relation to blue, a relation which is _not_ that of thing
or substance to content, nor of one part of content to another part
of content. This relation is just that which we mean in every case
by 'knowing.' To have in your mind 'knowledge' of blue, is _not_ to
have in your mind a 'thing' or 'image' of which blue is the content.
To be aware of the sensation of blue is _not_ to be aware of a
mental image--of a "thing," of which 'blue' and some other element
are constituent parts in the same sense in which blue and glass are
constituents of a blue bead. It is to be aware of an awareness of
blue; awareness being used, in both cases, in exactly the same sense.
This element, we have seen, is certainly neglected by the 'content'
theory: that theory entirely fails to express the fact that there is,
in the sensation of blue, this unique relation between blue and the
other constituent. And what I contend is that this omission is _not_
mere negligence of expression, but is due to the fact that though
philosophers have recognised that _something_ distinct is meant by
consciousness, they have never yet had a clear conception of _what_
that something is. They have not been able to hold _it_ and _blue_
before their minds and to compare them, in the same way in which they
can compare _blue_ and _green._ And this for the reason I gave above:
namely that the moment we try to fix our attention upon consciousness
and to see _what_, distinctly, it is, it seems to vanish: it seems as
if we had before us a mere emptiness. When we try to introspect the
sensation of blue, all we can see is the blue: the other element is
as if it were diaphanous. Yet it _can_ be distinguished if we look
attentively enough, and if we know that there is something to look for.
My main object in this paragraph has been to try to make the reader
_see_ it; but I fear I shall have succeeded very ill.
It being the case, then, that the sensation of blue includes in its
analysis, beside blue, _both_ a unique element 'awareness' _and_ a
unique relation of this element to blue, I can make plain what I meant
by asserting, as two distinct propositions, (1) that blue is probably
not part of the content of the sensation at all, and (2) that, even it
were, the sensation would nevertheless not be the sensation _of_ blue,
if blue had only this relation to it. The first hypothesis may now be
expressed by saying that, if it were true, then, when the sensation of
blue exists, there exists a _blue awareness_: offence may be taken at
the expression, but yet it expresses just what should be and is meant
by saying that blue is, in this case, a _content_ of consciousness
or experience. Whether or not, when I have the sensation of blue, my
consciousness or awareness is thus blue, my introspection does not
enable me to decide with certainty: I only see no reason for thinking
that it is. But whether it is or not, the point is unimportant, for
introspection _does_ enable me to decide that something else is also
true: namely that I am aware _of_ blue, and by this I mean, that my
awareness has to blue a quite different and distinct relation. It is
possible, I admit, that my awareness is blue _as well_ as being _of_
blue: but what I am quite sure of is that it is _of_ blue; that it has
to blue the simple and unique relation the existence of which alone
justifies us in distinguishing knowledge of a thing from the thing
known, indeed in distinguishing mind from matter. And this result I may
express by saying that what is called the _content_ of a sensation is
in very truth what I originally called it--the sensation's _object._
But, if all this be true, what follows?
Idealists admit that some things really exist of which they are not
aware: there are some things, they hold, which are not inseparable
aspects of _their_ experience, even if they be inseparable aspects of
some experience. They further hold that some of the things of which
they are sometimes aware do really exist, even when they are not aware
of them: they hold for instance that they are sometimes aware of other
minds, which continue to exist even when they are not aware of them.
They are, therefore, sometimes aware of something which is _not_ an
inseparable aspect of their own experience. They do _know some_ things
which are _not_ a mere part or content of their experience. And what
my analysis of sensation has been designed to show is, that whenever
I have a mere sensation or idea, the fact is that I am then aware of
something which is equally and in the same sense _not_ an inseparable
aspect of my experience. The awareness which I have maintained to be
included in sensation is the very same unique fact which constitutes
every kind of knowledge: "blue" is as much an object, and as little
a mere content, of my experience, when I experience it, as the most
exalted and independent real thing of which I am ever aware. There is,
therefore, no question of how we are to "get outside the circle of our
own ideas and sensations." Merely to have a sensation is already to
_be_ outside that circle. It is to know something which is as truly and
really _not_ a part of _my_ experience, as anything which I can ever
know.
Now I think I am not mistaken in asserting that the reason why
Idealists suppose that everything which _is_ must be an inseparable
aspect of some experience, is that they suppose some things, at least,
to be inseparable aspects of _their_ experience. And there is certainly
nothing which they are so firmly convinced to be an inseparable aspect
of their experience as what they call the _content_ of their ideas and
sensations. If, therefore, _this_ turns out in every case, whether it
be also the content or not, to be at least _not_ an inseparable aspect
of the experience of it, it will be readily admitted that nothing else
which _we_ experience ever is such an inseparable aspect. But if we
never experience anything but what is _not_ an inseparable aspect of
_that_ experience, how can we infer that anything whatever, let alone
_everything,_ is an inseparable aspect of _any_ experience? How utterly
unfounded is the assumption that "_esse_ is _percipi"_ appears in the
clearest light.
But further I think it may be seen that if the object of an Idealist's
sensation were, as he supposes, _not_ the object but merely the content
of that sensation, if, that is to say, it really were an inseparable
aspect of his experience, each Idealist could never be aware either of
himself or of any other real thing. For the relation of a sensation
to its object is certainly the same as that of any other instance of
experience to its object; and this, I think, is generally admitted even
by Idealists: they state as readily that _what_ is judged or thought or
perceived is the _content_ of that judgment or thought or perception,
as that blue Is the content of the sensation of blue. But, if so, then
when any Idealist thinks he is _aware_ of himself or of any one else,
this cannot really be the case. The fact Is, on his own theory, that
himself and that other person are in reality mere _contents_ of an
awareness, which is aware _of_ nothing whatever. All that can be said
is that there is an awareness in him, _with_ a certain content: it can
never be true that there is in him a consciousness _of_ anything. And
similarly he is never aware either of the fact that he exists or that
reality is spiritual. The real fact, which he describes in those terms,
is that his existence and the spirituality of reality are _contents_ of
an awareness, which is aware of nothing--certainly not, then, of it own
content.
And further if everything, of which he thinks he is aware, is in
reality merely a content of his own experience he has certainly no
_reason_ for holding that anything does exist except himself: it will,
of course, be possible that other persons do exist; solipsism will not
be necessarily true; but he cannot possibly infer from anything he
holds that it is not true. That he himself exists will of course follow
from his premiss that many things are contents of _his_ experience.
But since everything, of which he thinks himself aware, is in reality
merely an inseparable aspect of that awareness; this premiss allows no
inference that any of these contents, far less any other consciousness,
exists at all except as an inseparable aspect of his awareness, that
is, as part of himself.
Such, and not those which he takes to follow from it, are the
consequences which _do_ follow from the Idealist's supposition that the
object of an experience is in reality merely a content or inseparable
aspect of that experience. If, on the other hand, we clearly recognise
the nature of that peculiar relation which I have called "awareness of
anything"; if we see that _this_ is involved equally in the analysis
of _every_ experience--from the merest sensation to the most developed
perception or reflexion, and that _this_ is in fact the only essential
element in an experience--the only thing that is both common and
peculiar to all experiences--the only thing which gives us reason to
call any fact mental; if, further, we recognise that this awareness is
and must be in all cases of such a nature that its object, when we are
aware of it, is precisely what it would be, if we were not aware: then
it becomes plain that the existence of a table in space is related to
my experience of _it_ in precisely the same way as the existence of
my own experience is related to my experience of _that._ Of both we
are merely aware: if we are aware that the one exists, we are aware
in precisely the same sense that the other exists; and if it is true
that my experience can exist, even when I do not happen to be aware of
its existence, we have exactly the same reason for supposing that the
table can do so also. When, therefore, Berkeley, supposed that the only
thing of which I am directly aware is my own sensations and ideas, he
supposed what was false; and when Kant supposed that the objectivity of
things in space _consisted_ in the fact that they were "Vorstellungen"
having to one another different relations from those which the
same "Vorstellungen" have to one another in subjective experience,
he supposed what was equally false. I am as directly aware of the
existence of material things in space as of my own sensations; and
_what_ I am aware of with regard to each is exactly the same--namely
that in one case the material thing, and in the other case my sensation
does really exist. The question requiring to be asked about material
things is thus not: What reason have we for supposing that anything
exists _corresponding_ to our sensations? but: What reason have we for
supposing that material things do _not_ exist, since _their_ existence
has precisely the same evidence as that of our sensations? That either
exist _may_ be false; but if it is a reason for doubting the existence
of matter, that it is an inseparable aspect of our experience, the same
reasoning will prove conclusively that our experience does not exist
either, since that must also be an inseparable aspect of our experience
of _it._ The only _reasonable_ alternative to the admission that matter
exists _as well as_ spirit, is absolute Scepticism--that, as likely as
not _nothing_ exists at all. All other suppositions--the Agnostic's,
that something, at all events, does exist, as much as the Idealist's,
that spirit does--are, if we have no reason for believing in matter, as
baseless as the grossest superstitions.
[1] _International Journal of Ethics,_ October, 1902.