Elements of psychology : included in a critical examination of Locke's Essay on the human understanding, and in additional pieces / by Victor Cousin ; translated from the French, with introduction and notes, by Caleb S. Henry. / Cousin, Victor, 1792-1867

I 






ELEMENTS 



PSYCHOLOGY 



INCLUDED IN 



A CRITICAL EXAMINATION OF LOCKE S ESSAY 
THE HUMAN UNDERSTANDING, AND IN 
ADDITIONAL PIECES. 



BY VICTOR COUSIN. 



STrarcslatefc from tfce 
WITH AN INTRODUCTION AND NOTES 

BY CALEB S. HENKY, D.D. 



FOURTH IMPROVED EDITION, REVISED ACCORDING TO THE AUTHORS 
LAST CORRECTIONS. 



IVISON, BLAKEMAN, TAYLOR & CO., 

NEW YORK AND CHICAGO. 

1878. 



Mir- : 



1 1 I K I f. > 



Artered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1856, by 

CALEB S. HENRY, 

la the Clerk s Office of the District Court of the Southern District 6* 
New York 



TO 

SIR WILLIAM HAMILTON, BART., 

PROFESSOR OF L..7IC AND METAPHYSICS IN THE UNIVERSITY OF EDINBUB9B 

MEMBER OF THE INSTITUTE OF FRANCE, 

ETC., ETC., 

THIS VOLUME OF THE WRITINGS 

OF 
ONE WHOM, THOUGH OPPOSING, HE HAS PRONOUNCED 

THE FIRST PHILOSOPHER OF FRANCE, 

IS INSCRIBED, 

LESS AS A TRIBUTE OF ADMIRATION 
TO THE 

FIRST OF BRITISH PHILOSOPHERS 

THAN AS 
A HOMAGE OF REVERENCE TO THE MAN 

WHOSE SPIRIT PROMPTED AND INDITED HIS DEDICATION TO COtellH 
OP HIS EDITION OF THE WORKS OF REID, 

AND AS 

A GRATEFUL RECOGNITION 

FROM THIS SIDE THE ATLANTIC, 
OF THE 

NOBLE Atf D NEEDFUL LESSON 

1XEMPLIFIED IN THE MUTUAL BEARING OF THESE TWO GREATEST 
THINKERS OF THE AGE, 

THAT 

THE TRUE MUSE OF PHILOSOPHY 
IS 

NOT HATRED BUT LOYE. 



A 



CONTENTS. 



PAQ1 

CE TO THE FOURTH EDITION, ix 

EXTRACT FROM THE PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION REMARKS ON AN ARTI 
CLE m THE PRINCETON REVIEW, xiii 

ADDITIONAL REMARKS, xxiii 

INTRODUCTION BY THE TRANSLATOR, 65 



CHAPTER I. 

Geneil spirit of the Essay on the Human Understanding. Its Method. 
Study of the Human Understanding itself, as the necessary introduc 
tion to all true philosophy. Study of the Human Understanding in 
its action, in its phenomena, or ideas. Division of the inquiries re 
lating to ideas, and determination of the order in which those inves 
tigations should be made. To postpone the logical and ontological 
question concerning the truth or falsity of ideas, and the legitimacy 
or illegitimacy of their application to their respective objects ; and to 
concentrate our investigations upon the study of ideas in them 
selves and in that, to begin by describing ideas as they actually are, 
and then to proceed to the investigation of their origin. Examination 
of the Method of Locke. Its merit : he postpones and places last the 
question of the truth or falsity of ideas. Its fault : he entirely neg 
lects the question concerning the actual character of ideas, and be 
gins with that of their origin. First mistake of Method ; chances of 
error which it involves. General tendency of the School of Locke. 
Recapitulation 

CHAPTER II. V X 

First Book of the Essay on the Human Understanding. Of Innate 
Ideas. Second Book. Experience, the source of all ideas. Sensa 
tion and Reflection. Locke places the development of the sensibility 
before that of the operations of the mind. Operations of the Mind. 
According to Locke, they are exercised only upon sensible data. 



VI CONTENTS. 

PA. GIB 

Basis of Sensualism. Examination of the doctrine of Locke concern 
ing the idea of Space. That the idea of Space, in the system of 
Locke, should and does resolve itself into the idea of Body. This 
confusion contradicted by facts, and "by Locke himself. Distinction 
of the actual characters of the ideas of Body and of Space : 1, the 
one contingent, the other necessary ; 2, the one limited, the other 
illimitable ; 3, the one a sensible representation, the other a rational 
conception. This distinction ruins the system of Locke. Examina 
tion of the origin of the idea of Space. Distinction between the logi 
cal order and the chronological order of ideas. Logical order. The 
idea of space is the logical condition of the idea of body, its founda 
tion, its reason, its origin, taken logically. The idea of body is the 
chronological condition of the idea of space, its origin, taken chrono 
logically. Of the Eeason and Experience, considered as in turn the 
reciprocal condition of their mutual development. Merit of the sys 
tem of Locke. Its vices : 1, confounds the measure of space, with 
space ; 2, the condition of the idea of space, with the idea itself. . .316 

CHAPTER III. ^ 

Recapitulation of the preceding chapter. Continuation of the examina 
tion of the Second Book of the Essay on the Human Understanding. 
Of the idea of Time. Of the idea of the Infinite* Of the idea of Per 
sonal Identity .* Of the idea of Substance. <-. 141 

CHAPTER IV. 

General remarks on the foregoing results. Continuation of the exam 
ination of the Second Book of the Essay on the Human Understand 
ing. Of the idea of Cause .-^Origin in sensationl- Kefutation.*-Origin 
in reflection and the sentiment of the Will. v Distinction between the 
idea of Cause, v and the Principle of Causality* That the principle of 
causality is inexplicable by the sentiment of will. Of the true forma 
tion of the principle of Causality. . * 188 

CHAPTER Y. 

Examination of the second Book of the Essay on the Human Under 
standing continued. Of the idea^ of Good and Evil. Eefutation. 
Conclusions of the Second Book.v Of the formation and of the mech 
anism of ideas in the understanding. Of simple and complex ideas,/" 
Of the activity and passivity of the mind in the acquisition of ideas. f 
The most general attributes of ideas. Qf the Association of ideas.;, 
Examination of the third Book of the Essay on the Understanding, 
concerning words. Credit due to Locke. Examination of the follow 
ing questions : 1. Do words derive their first origin from other 



CONTENTS. VII 

MM 

eignificaat of sensible ideas ? 2. Is the signification of words purely 

arbitrary ? 3. Are general ideas nothing but words ? Of Nominal 
ism and realism. 4. Are words the sole cause of error, and is all 
science only a well-constructed language ? Examination of the third 
Book concluded 800 



CHAPTER VI. 

Examination of the fourth Book of the Essay on the Human Under 
standing, on Knowledge. That knowledge, according to Locke, do- 
pends : 1, upon Ideas ; 2, upon Ideas, in so far as they are con 
formed to their objects. That the conformity or non-conformity of 
ideas with their objects, as the foundation of truth or falsehood in re 
gard to knowledge, is not with Locke merely a metaphor, but a real 
theory. Examination of this theory of ideas, 1, in relation to the ex 
ternal world, to secondary qualities, to primary qualities, to the sub 
stratum of these qualities, to space, to time, etc. ; 2, in relation to the 
spiritual world. Appeal to Eevelation. Paralogism of Locke. . .238 

CHAPTER VII. 

Eesumption and continuation of the preceding chapter. Of the idea, 
not now considered in relation to the object which it should repre 
sent, but in relation to tlu mind which perceives it, and in which it 
is found. The idea-image, idea taken materially, implies material 
subject; from hence materialism. Taken spiritually, it can give 
neither bodies, nor spirit. That the representative-idea, laid down 
as the sole primitive datum of the mind, in the inquiry after reality, 
condemns us to a paralogism ; since no representative idea can be 
decided to represent correctly or incorrectly, except by comparing it 
with its original, with the reality itself, to which, however, by the 
hypothesis, we can not arrive but by the idea. That knowledge is 
direct, and without an intermediate. Of judgments, of propositions 
and ideas. Return to the question of innate ideas. ... 2(4 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Examination of the fourth book of the Essay on the Understanding 
continued. Ot Kuowledge. Its modes. Omission of inductive knowl 
edge. Its degrees. False distinction of Locke between knowing and 
judging. That the theory of knowledge and of judgment in Locke 
resolves itself into that of a perception of agreement or disagreement 
between ideas. Detailed examination of this theory. That it applies 
to judgments abstract and not primitive, but by no means to primi 
tive judgments which imply existence. Analysis of the judgment; 
Three objections : 1, the impossibility of arriving at re&l ax- 



VUl CONTENTS. 

PAO 

istence by the abstraction of existence ; 2, that to begin by abstraction 
is contrary to the true process of the human mind ; 3, that the theory 
of Locke involves a paralogism. Analysis of the judgments : I think, 
this body exists, this body is colored, God exists, etc. Analysis of the 
judgments upon which Arithmetic and Geometry rest 288 

CHAPTER IX. 

Continuation of the preceding chapter. That the theory of judgment, 
as the perception of a relation of agreement or disagreement between 
ideas, supposes that every judgment is founded upon a comparison. 
Kefutation of the theory of comparative judgment. Of axioms. Of 
identical propositions. Of Eeason and of Faith. Of Syllogism. Of 
Enthusiasm. Of the cause of error. Division of the Sciences. Con 
clusion of the examination of the Fourth Book of Locke s Essay. . 314 

CHAPTER X. 

Examination of three important Theories found in the Essay on the 
Human Understanding: 1. TJieory of Freedom v which inclines to 
Fatalism. 2. Theory of the ^Nature of the Soul] Avhich inclines to 
Materialism, 3. Theory of the Existence of God which rests itself 
almost exclusively upon external proofs, drawn from the sensible 
world. Recapitulation of the whole Examination of the Essay of 
Locke ; the merits and the faults which have been pointed out. Of 
the spirit which has governed this Examination. Conclusion. . . 847 



ADDITIONAL PIECES. 

I. CLASSIFICATION OF PHILOSOPHICAL QUESTIONS AND SCHOOLS . 39ti 

II. PSYCHOLOGICAL METHOD AND rrg APPLICATION .... 406 

III. PASSAGE FROM PSYCHOLOGY TO ONTOLOGY .... 440 

IV.-^KEPLY TO THE CHARGE OF PANTHEISM: 445 

V. THEORY OF EEASON. FURTHER EXPLICATIONS .... 450 

VI. BERKELY AND HUME. IDEALISM AND SKEPTICISM . . . 454 

VII. OUTLINE OF A SYSTEM OF METAPHYSICS 469 

VIII. PROGRAMME OF A COURSE OF LECTURES ON ABSOLUTE TRUTHS . 495 

IX. ABSOLUTE TRUTHS. THEIR ORIGIN AND VALIDITY . . . 512 

X. GOD THE PRINCIPLE OF ABSOLUTE TRUTH ..... 532 

XI. MYSTICISM 533 

XII. OF THE BEAUTIFUL AND OF THE ARTS 543 

XIII. THE COMPREHENSIBILITY OF GOD AND THE NECESSITY OF 

CREATION , 059 



PREFACE TO THE FOURTH EDITION. 



THE call of the publishers upon me to prepare another 
edition of this work has given me the opportunity, and 
imposed upon me the duty, of improving it as much as 
possible. I have, therefore, carefully revised the trans 
lation according to the author s last edition, which con 
tains numerous corrections and retrenchments, render 
ing the expression more exact and more compact. I 
have also added a considerable number of new pieces 
to the selections before made from the author s other 
writings, making the work more fully conformed to the 
title I have thought fit to give it. Although it has not 
the form of a regular systematic treatise, and by its 
title does not pretend to have, yet it comprises the 
elements, and all the elements, of a complete system of 
psychology, and of philosophy as contained in psychol 
ogy. It embraces the fundamental principles and 
most important questions in ontology, in logic, in 
morals, and in aesthetics. 

In regard to the use of this work in instruction : the 
method of instruction by merely formal lectures is un- 
suited to the undergraduate course in our colleges. 
Books are therefore put into the hands of the student 

to read, which are called text-books- -a term which 

1* 



X PREFACE. 

specially implies that they are to be made the basis of 
instruction by the professor. Many years experience 
has established me in the conviction that no text-book 
in the hands of our young students is good for much, 
if for any thing, without thorough instruction earnest 
familiar exposition on the part of a competent pro 
fessor, who is master of the whole subject, as well as 
acquainted with what this or that particular text-book 
says ; and, with such instruction, almost any textbook 
is good enough. 

The student who attends on a philosophical course, 
attends to very little purpose if that instruction 
amounts to nothing but a catechetical examination, 
and a dry repetition of what he remembers of a text 
book. It is a dead mechanical affair, with little clear 
insight and comprehension of the subject, and conse 
quently little of that peculiar culture of the faculties, 
for the sake of which philosophical studies are made a 
part of his course of education. Contrary to all this, 
the interest of the students should be aroused, their 
attention directed, their perceptions quickened, by the 
living voice of the competent, earnest teacher, who 
knows and feels his subject himself in a living way, and 
knows how to tell what he knows and feels, and to 
make them know and feel with him ; to make them 
grasp truth in its principles, to see into the nature, 
force and reach, the logical connection and systematic 
consequences of principles ; to make them not only 
understand his thought, but think for themselves, exert 
their own critical faculties, form opinions, not merely 
adopt them. There is in such a course a high and 
noble culture of the faculties and of the soul, of infin 
itely more value than the amount of knowledge gained. 



PREFACE. XI 

It makes philosophers, not merely knowers of a phil 
osophy, of this or that set of opinions, adopting or re 
jecting the one or the other set, just according as they 
happen to be in good or bad odor among this or that 
particular set of men or women. It is a consoling re 
ward to any one whose life has been devoted to such 
labors to be humbly able to hope he has, in this way, 
done some good in his day, has helped to form right 
men. 

But though no text-books are worth much without 
such instruction, there are still reasons for choosing 
among them. I will briefly express my preference, and 
the reasons for it. I recommend Locke s Essay on the 
Human Understanding, this work of Cousin, and Reid s 
works, in Sir William Hamilton s edition. This is the 
smallest course of reading for the student, under the 
guidance and instruction of the professor, that can well 
be named ; yet, with competent instruction, it is suf 
ficient for the purposes of our academical culture. I 
recommend this course because students in our colleges 
have no time to study the ancient and middle age 
philosophy any further than as they are resumed in 
these works ; and modern philosophy may well enough 
be said to date from Locke. Locke should therefore 
be read, and compared with Eeid and Cousin, and 
commented on. Eeid is the first great opponent of 
Locke in England, and a genuine thinker. Thus, 
the student in our colleges is put upon a course at 
what is for him a fitting beginning. He may go after 
ward as far as he pleases. I recommend this work of 
Cousin, because in it the fundamental principles of 
Locke are subjected to a criticism more clear, com 
plete, and thorough, than they ever before received. 



Xll PREFACE. 

His examination of the Essay on the Understanding ia 
acknowledged by the greatest authorities to be the 
most admirable specimen of philosophical analysis ex 
tant ; and it is admirably adapted to cultivate the 
power of analysis in the student ; while the other por 
tion of this volume contains discussions and suggestions 
of great importance and interest in reference to com 
prehensive views of philosophy, and the solution of its 
great problems, and will furnish opportunity for the 
professor to give what historical and critical notices of 
modern German speculation he may think needful. 

In reference to our colleges, to the age of the sti^dents 
generally, and to the time allowed, I do not k^xow a 
better course to recommend than the one I have ven 
tured to point out : it being always borne in mind that 
the great object is not to secure an accomplished phil 
osophical erudition a thing impossible under the cir 
cumstances but to secure philosophical training and 
mastery of great principles. 

It remains only to say that I have thought fit to 
retain in this edition that portion of the Preface to 
the Third Edition which related to the attack of the 
Princeton Eevieiv ; and that I have added some new 
remarks at the end of it. 

C. S. H, 

NEW YORK, November, 1855. 



EXTRACT 

FROM THE 

PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION. 



REMARKS ON THE PRINCETON REVIEW. 

IT may perhaps be expected that Fshould say some 
thing respecting an article which appeared in a certain 
religious journal shortly after the publication of the 
second edition of this work.- I have never taken any 
public notice of it, because for those who thoroughly 
understand the subject of which it treats, the article 
itself is its own best refutation ; while to candid and 
sensible persons less familiar with philosophical studies, 
though its numerous untruths and calculated appeals 
to the prejudices of the ignorant may not be equally 
apparent, yet its flippancies, personalities, and bad 
temper (at variance alike with the true philosophical 
and with the Christian spirit) are sufficiently obvious 
to produce the reverse of the intended impression (and 
I may add that from both these classes of persons and 
from various quarters I have received numerous testi 
monies to this effect) ; and, as to the remaining por 
tion of the public coming within the limited sphere of 
the journal in question persons, namely, with^whom 
ignorance of the subject and religious associations 

* Biblical Repertory and Princeton Review, for January, 1839. 



XJV PREFACE TO THE THIKD EDITION. 

would make that journal an authority I certainly felt 
no call to argue philosophical questions before such a 
tribunal. 

A few words will suffice for all that it is necessary to 
say to the reader of this volume. 

The article represents Cousin as a Pantheist, denying 
the Personality of God j as denying also the Essential 
Difference of Right and Wrong ; and as maintaining a 
scheme of Fatalism. I should do wrong to content 
myself with simply saying that these representations 
are totally false. Not only are they entirely destitute 
of just foundation, and contradictory also to the system 
of Cousin ; but, on each and every one of those points, 

Cousin STRENUOUSLY MAINTAINS DOCTRINES PRECISELY 

THE REVERSE OF THOSE IMPUTED TO HIM ! The state 
ments of the article are as laughably untrue as it 
would be to call Athanasius an Arian, Bishop Berkeley 
a Materialist, or Jonathan Edwards a believer in the 
Self-determining power of the Will ! It seems to me, 
therefore, incredible that any person of ordinary good 
sense, assuming to pass a public judgment upon such 
subjects, should fall into an honest misconception of 
Cousin s doctrines on these points. I confess I can 
scarcely in my own mind acquit the writer of the article 
of deliberately imposing upon his readers representa 
tions which he knew to be not only unjustifiable as 
toward Cousin personally, because contradictory to his 
express and repeated official declarations, but also un- 
( just in themselves, because not involved in his funda 
mental principles, but contrary to his principles, to his 
system, and to the whole strain of his systematic 
teaching. This impression is rendered the more difficult 
to resist by the mode in which the writer has endeav- 



REMAKES ON THE PRINCETON REVIEW. XV 

ored to support his representations his logic being of 
that pleasant and effectual sort sometimes called the 
method of proving aliquid ex aliquo. The only sup 
position upon which the writer can be freed from the 
imputation of deliberate bad faith is, that his predeter 
mination to make out a case destroj^ed for the time his 
capacity to perceive any thing that made against his 
purpose. \Vhy he should have wished to make out a 
case is not hard to be conceived in this community, and 
is apparent enough upon the face of the article. 

For proof of the utter falsehood of the charge of 
Fatalism brought against Cousin, the reader need only 
turn to the tenth chapter of the present volume, and 
to the notes connected with the fifth chapter. Else 
where, also, in various parts of his other writings, and 
particularly in his lectures on the foundation of the 
absolute idea of moral good (occupying a considerable 
portion of a volume which I presume the writer of the 
article had not seen), the freedom of man, the absolute 
free will and sovereign Providence of God, are estab 
lished with great force against every form of the op 
posite doctrine. The writer of the article is forced 
indeed to admit that " Cousin does not teach what is 
commonly meant by fatalism ; that he is a strenuous 
advocate for the freedom of the will, and talks much 
about our free personality." Now, Cousin not only 
docs not teach what is commonly meant by fatalism, 
but he teaches nothing to which the term can be ap 
plied in any sense. He not only talks much about the 
freedom of the will, but he makes it a fundamental 
principle of his system, absolutely essential to any pos 
sible conception of moral obligation, of accountability, 
and of the supreme free moral government of God, 



1V1 PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION. 

which latter truth he likewise teaches as expressly, and 
in as good faith, as any writer that ever wrote. This 
is his systematic teaching : and he has advanced noth 
ing in other connections which is subversive of it, 
nothing that is not compatible with it. The passages 
adduced by his critic in proof that Cousin s " freedom 
is itself but one of the products of a deeper fatalism 
which pervades the universe" are merely some rapid 
and general expressions, in an animated rhetorical 
style, respecting the development of humanity under 
the laws of Divine Providence a development which 
is spoken of as necessary not in relation to God, nor in 
relation to the human will, but only in relation to an 
order of moral causes established by God, which we 
generalize in our conceptions as laws, and which we 
apply to explain the events of human history ; expres 
sions the like of which are continually occurring in 
animated public discourses upon such subjects without 
exciting a thought of fatalism ; expressions which can 
be represented as fatalism only when stupidly miscon 
ceived or willfully perverted. 

The same course of remarks applies to the charge of 
confounding moral distinctions. Abundant evidence 
of the falsehood of the charge is contained in the fifth 
chapter of this volume, and in the programme of a 
course of lectures in the appendix. Any person in the 
least degree conversant with such studies will instantly 
perceive that if ever there was a doctrine clearly and 
undeniably taught in the world, Cousin teaches the 
absolute and essential difference of right and wrong, 
the eternal and immutable nature of moral distinctions; 
and if ever there was a doctrine expressly and earnestly 



REMARKS ON THE PRINCETON REVIEW. XV11 

opposed, Cousin opposes every form of the doctrine 
which confounds moral distinctions. The absolute idea 
of right and wrong is made the indispensable basis of 
any idea of obligation or duty, of merit and demerit, 
and of reward and punishment ; no motive of virtuous 
action is allowed except the simple idea of absolute 
obligation grounded upon and springing necessarily and 
immediately from the absolute conception of right and 
wrong ; and every form of the selfish system, from the 
grossest to the most refined, is repudiated ; every 
motive of self-love (from that which makes the gratifi 
cation of the senses the rule of action up to that which 
obeys in form the will of God for the sake of the con 
sequent advantage) is excluded from the essence of 
virtue. Do right for the sake of right, without regard 
to consequences, is made the fundamental maxim of 
ethics. All this may be seen in the present volume, 
and the same views are expounded systematically and 
thoroughly in the extended discussion of this subject 
already referred to the lectures on the absolute idea 
of moral good. Cousin is one of the most decided ad 
vocates of the principles of essential and immutable 
morality that ever wrote : Cuclworth, Butler, and Price, 
have written nothing stronger, nothing clearer. It 
would not be a grosser falsehood, nor a more laughable 
blunder, to assert that the systems of Hobbes and 
Jeremy Bentham recognize disinterested virtue and the 
essential difference of right and wrong, than has been 
committed by this person in asserting that Cousin 
denies them; Yet carefully withholding from his 
readers all these abundant, unambiguous, systematic 
statements of Cousin, and presuming (one would sup 
pose) that they had never read, and would never read, 



PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION. 

the writings which he was perverting ; violating, alsc 
every rule of interpretation which renders it possible* 
ever to ascertain from language a writer s opinions or 
system ; in his predetermination to make out a case, 
he has culled a few scattered expressions occurring in 
the course of some rapid reflections upon historical and 
political topics, on the ground of which he represent/? 
Cousin as confounding moral distinctions by exalting 
fact into right : expressions which no more justify the 
charge than would the familiar political maxim that a 
probability of success is indispensable to justify an at 
tempt to revolutionize a government 

So likewise with respect to the charge of Pantheism. 
Apparently the writer of the article in question had no 
precise conception of the meaning of the term. Certain 
it is that Cousin is no Pantheist in any of the senses 
in which the word is ever used by persons entitled to 
speak upon the subject. 

Pantheism, in the strict sense of the term, is tli3 
confounding of God with the universe denying His 
distinct substantial existence, and making him merely 
the collective ALL of things. It may be of two sorts : 
material, when the substantial existence of spiritual 
being is denied, and matter is- made the only substance 
of which the collective all of the universe is composed ; 
or ideal, when the substantial existence of matter is 
denied, and spiritual being made the only substance. 

Pantheism, in the less proper meaning of the word, 
is the confounding of the universe with God making 
God the sole substantial existence, and the universe of 
mind and matter merely phenomena ; thereby destroy 
ing human personality, freedom, etc. 



REMARKS ON THE PRINCETON REVIEW. XIX 

Now, Cousin not only does not teacli Pantheism in 
either of these forms, but, on the contrary, clearly and 
abundantly exposes and confutes them all. He main 
tains the substantial existence of God and the substan 
tial existence of the universe of mind and matter ; of 
God as distinct from the universe ; of God as the cause 
and the universe the effect ; of God as superior to the 
universe by all the superiority of an infinite uncreated 
substance and cause over all finite and created sub 
stances and causes. Yet all that Cousin says expressly 
and directly on this subject is kept out of view by the 
writer of the article, and some speculations respecting 
the relation of the creation to God, and some expressions 
concerning the all-pervading presence and energy of 
God, are paraded as proof of Pantheism. 

As to the speculations about the creation considered 
as the necessary product of the divine activity : I 
should suppose it would be readily admitted by any 
thinker that if God had never created any thing, he 
would never have exerted his power out of himself, 
never have manifested himself. I should suppose it 
would be equally admitted to be natural to the human 
mind to conceive that God, as an infinite personal 
cause, a free potential activity, would put forth or ac 
tualize his power in some determinate, and therefore 
finite production, that is to say, would create. I do 
not understand Cousin as asserting that creation is 
necessary in any other sense than this, relative, namely, 
to our conception of an infinite cause personal and free. 
If he intended the assertion as absolute, I should not 
adopt it ; but certainly I should never dream of con 
sidering it Pantheism ; it has no more to do with Pan- 



XX PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION. 

theism than with Polytheism ; and as to the rest is 
perfectly harmless. - 

And as to the expressions relating to the all-pervad 
ing presence and energy of God in the universe : they 
are the same sort of expressions as those in which all 
elevated meditation on the Divine Being naturally 

* In saying that I should not adopt it, I do not mean that it may not 
be so, or that there is not some ground for it in the idea on which it 
rests. For our conception of the human will as an active power, a 
power of volition, involves naturally the conception that it is a power 
which, when the conditions of its activity are supplied, must pass into 
action in the production of volitions yet without destroying the free 
personality of man. Even the necessarians, who make these conditions 
to be causes ab extra, do, still, many of them, maintain the free person 
ality of man. 

With respect to the human will, we all admit that there must be con 
ditions of its activity ; that these conditions are external to the will, and 
primarily external even to the mind. But, prior to the first creative act 
of the Divine will, there existed nothing but God; and consequently the 
conditions of the passing into activity of the Divine will (if such there 
were) must have been entirely within the nature itself of the Divine 
Being. 

Now, with respect to Cousin s speculation about creation, it certainly 
is true that the Divine will has passed into activity and created the 
universe ; and it may be true that there was in the very nature of the 
Divine will a necessity of its passing into activity, an activity which 
must also be creative a necessity equally eternal, groundless, and un 
fathomable to our comprehension as the necessity of the Divine exist 
ence itself. I certainly would not venture either to assert or deny that 
it is absolutely so ; for I am reverently averse to all speculations which 
go back of the attributes of God and seek to penetrate his nature, or 
which proceed upon ideas with respect to his nature not given or war- 
anted by revelation. " Who by searching can find out the Almighty to 
perfection ?" But I should like to Anow what there is in such a specu 
lation that has the remotest connection with Pantheism. 

At the same time, I consider the necessity of creation spoken of by 
Cousin to be a purely hypothetical necessity, not absolute but relative 
to our limited conceptions ; necessary, that is, unless we would conceive 
God to remain eternally solitary and inactive. 



REMARKS ON THE PRINCETON REVIEW. XXI 

utters itself; and the charge of Pantheism would lie 
equally against nine tenths of the most accredited de 
votional poetry, and against the Holy Scriptures them 
selves, which speak of God as " all in all/ and of 
creatures as " living, moving, and having their BEING 
IN HIM/ etc., etc. 

I repeat, then, summarily, that the person who wrote 
the article in question has imputed to Cousin doctrines 
directly the opposite of those which he explicitly and 
positively teaches, doctrines which he distinctly and 
strenuously opposes : and the mode in which he en 
deavors to justify his imputations involves a perversion 
of thought and language scarcely less incredible. A 
parallel argument equally valid might be constructed 
to prove Cudworth an Atheist, Bishop Butler an In 
fidel, and Mr. Thomas Paine a Christian believer ! 

The article also attempts to confound Cousin with 
certain German philosophers. As to this I have only 
to say that the system of Cousin is distinguished from 
each and all those German systems by fundamental 
differences of principle. A professed exposition of 
modern German philosophy is also given in this article, 
putting it in as odious a light as possible, for the sake 
of casting accumulated odium upon Cousin and (per 
haps chiefly) upon myself. Not adopting any of those 
German systems, nor sympathizing with their theolog 
ical spirit and tendency, I do not here feel concerned 
to correct the mistakes of this exposition. Besides, no 
thinker tolerably well informed on the subject needs be 
told what a superficial and insufficient account it is. 
It has every appearance of being an assemblage of 
scraps gathered at second and third hand from ency- 



XX11 PEEFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION. 

clopedias, reviews, and incidental notices. A moment s 
glance is sufficient to satisfy any competent judge that 
it was never formed by a discriminating philosophical 
mind from a careful examination of the original sources. 

These are the leading and only material points in 
the article. Almost every page of it, however, abounds 
with particular instances of bad spirit and deficient 
capacity. Its arrogance and flippant personalities, its 
numerous perversions and blunders, both in logic and 
fact, taken in connection with the falsehood of its lead 
ing positions, form a combination equally pitiable and 
ludicrous. But I have said enough, and perhaps more 
than enough, respecting an article so little entitled, 
either for its matter or its spirit, to the respect of any 
true philosopher ; and whose only value to the genuine 
Christian, who is, at the same time, thoroughly ac 
quainted with its subject, is in the example it furnishes 
how far from truth and propriety one may be led who 
attempts, under the banner of religion, to excite the 
odium tlieoloyicum against another by presuming on 
the ignorance and appealing to the prejudices of those 
whom he addresses. 

As to myself, I may be permitted to observe that 
my own philosophical and religious opinions, and the 
character of my instructions are well known, by my 
friends, colleagues, and pupils, to be diametrically op 
posite to any of the false and dangerous principles with 
which my humble name is attempted to be connected : 
and I might add that they may be gathered distinctly 
enough by the public even from the few things which I 
have printed on these subjects.* I take leave to say 

* In an article published in the Literary and Theological Review^ in 
1834, which was devoted to showing the impossibility of any absolute 



REMARKS OX THE PRINCETON REVIEW. XX111 

that, in my opinion, I have done no such wicked or 
foolish thing as willfully or ignorantly to promote the 
subversion of my own fundamental principles on points 
of such vital importance ; and I can not but add that, 
so far as a mere opinion on such subjects is worth any 
thing, fifteen years devoted to philosophical studies, 
and for a considerable portion of the time in the way 
of professional duty, may, perhaps, entitle my opinion 
to as much provisional force as that of the individual 
who has seen fit to become my assailant. It is not 
pleasant thus to speak of one s own opinions and writ 
ings ; and I should not presume to refer to my slight 
productions, but for the attempt made in the article 
to connect my name with opinions so diametrically op 
posite to those I hold. I am not apprehensive, indeed, 
that the attempt to represent me as introducing, either 
knowingly or ignorantly into public instruction, a work 
calculated to subvert the proper belief in G-od, in the 
essential difference of right and wrong, and in the moral 
accountability of men, will have its intended effect with 
competent judges. Attempts like that of my assailant, 
as they never in the long run do harm to the party as- 

system of philosophy, of any speculative solution of the great problems 
of the human mind, and the necessity of leaping by faith alone, the 
chasm which separates the infinite from the finite and expressly con 
demning the great modern German systems. Also, in an article in the 
same journal for 1835, defending the essential and immutable difference 
of right and wrong, on the grounds of Cud worth and Butler, against the 
principles of the selfish system. Just before the appearance of the ar 
ticle in the Princeton Review, I had also printed, in connection with 
Whewell s Sermons on the Foundations of Morals (a work written in the 
spirit of Butler), several pieces containing views respecting the Divine 
existence and the nature of moral distinctions, directly in contradiction 
with those which I am represented as promoting by the publication of 
Oousiu s examination of Locke. 



XXIV ADDITIONAL EEMARKS 

sailed, so neither do they do the assailant any good, 
and (which is of much greater importance) they will 
never in the long run promote the sacred cause of truth 
and of God. 

Non tali auxilio nee defensoribus istis. 

I published this examination of Locke because, in 
dependently of any systematic peculiarities of the 
author, and independently of my own personal opinion 
of his system, I believed it calculated to establish the 
very foundations of morality and religion against the 
subversive principles of Locke and Paley. In regard 
to these great truths, as against the principles and sys 
tematic results of the Sensual philosophy, this work is 
in perfect harmony with Cudworth, Price, Butler, Eeid, 
and Stewart. C. S. HENRY. 

NEW YOKE UNIVERSITY, October, 1S41 

ADDITITIONAL EEMARKS. 

So I wrote fourteen years ago. I should scarce bf 
able to believe it so long but for the date so quickly 
do the years pass. What I then wrote I have not read 
in nearly as many years until now ; and it is a satis 
faction to me to find at this distance that in repelling 
the false and odious charges brought against Cousin 
arid myself in the article in the Princeton Review, and 
in characterizing its manner and spirit, I kept 90 far 
within the allowable limits of self-defense against such 
an arrogant and insulting attack. I have nothing now 
to retract or regret in the positions I took, or in the 
language I employed. There are, however, a few things 
which I think it fit at this time to add. 

As to the charges of Fatalism, Pantheism, and the 



ON THE PRINCETON REVIEW. XXV 

confounding of moral distinctions, the readers of this 
volume will find within its pages the clearest proof of 
their untruth, and that not one particle of abatement 
need be made from the utmost force and literal strict 
ness of the terms of contradiction and counter-assertion 
which I employed. Thus much those who have never 
seen the article in question will be able to judge : but 
they can not, of course, have any conception of the 
multitude of minor positions and collteral utterances 
it contains, equally open, in the view of every well-in 
formed thinker, to contradiction, ar I even, in many 
cases, to counter-assertion ; nor can they have any 
adequate impression of the exceedingly bad tone and 
spirit which pervades it throughout : and so they may 
not unnaturally be liable to do less than justice to the 
exact fitness of the general terms in which I character 
ized it in these respects. Something, therefore, I think 
it right to add in my own justification, as. well as in the 
more important interests of truth and fairness. 

Had the article in question been, like that of Sir 
William Hamilton, the production of a learned and 
profound thinker, thoroughly comprehending, accurately 
expounding, and honorably combating the system of 
Cousin, in the true philosophical spirit of candor and 
respect, I should have readily yielded to it the same 
homage of cordial admiration as I expressed for Sir 
William Hamilton s article, whether, as to the rest, I 
acceded to its conclusions or not. Had it even been 
the serious and candid utterance of an incompetent 
thinker, disturbed by unaccustomed expressions and 
seeming contradictions to the great religious convictions 
which are so dear to the religious heart, and expressing 
Uis fears without dogmatism or contempt, it would have 

2 



XXVI ADDITIONAL REMARKS 

been entitled to the sincerest respect. But it was 
throughout a calculated appeal to religious prejudices 
and the spirit of theological hatred, calculated to the 
purpose of exciting the pious alarm of the sincere and 
serious, and of provoking the "fool s laugh" of the 
shallow and conceited. 

I can not, perhaps, better make good what I say 
than by putting in contrast the spirit of these two 
articles. 

Sir William Hamilton s criticism of the system of 
Cousin first appeared in theEdinburg Beview in 1829; 
and has since been reprinted in his volume of " Dis 
cussions in Philosophy, etc.," London, 1852, and pub 
lished in this country by the Harpers. It is no less 
remarkable for its admirable spirit than for its great 
philosophical learning and profound speculative and 
critical ability. The author does not attempt to ex 
pound a system which he at the same time professes 
not to understand. He does not attempt to confute it 
by imputing to Cousin opinions which he knows to be 
repudiated by him ; nor by forcing upon his words a 
meaning in which they are not used by him ; nor by 
forcing upon his system consequences which it does not 
contain ; nor by detached sentences torn alive asunder 
from the living whole, where only they can be rightly 
comprehended, and, perhaps, thus torn asunder, pre 
senting or if not presenting of themselves, made by 
further distortion to present to the pious horror of 
the unlearned the ghastly semblance of some impious 
error ; nor, by taking advantage of the popular pious 
fear and hatred in which he knows the modern German 
metaphysics are held, does he get up an exhibition of 
grotesque absurdities and solemn horror-shows from 



ON THE PKINCETON EEVIEW. 

that source, making his readers (who may know no 
better) believe, by insinuation or assertion, that these 
absurdities and horrors are part and parcel of Cousin s 
system too ; nor does he take every opportunity which 
a malicious ingenuity can find or make, by derogatory 
charges, insinuations, and sneers, to pour contempt on 
the personal character of Cousin, and of those whom he 
takes to be his followers ; nor, finally, does he at the 
last leave his reader without any clew out of the tan 
gled labyrinth he had involved them in, that is, without 
giving them any positive philosophical solution of the 
great problems he had raised, or informing them 
whether, in his opinion, a philosophical solution is or is 
not possible. 

Contrary to all this, Sir William Hamilton takes upon 
himself to expound the system of Cousin, because he 
professes to understand it ; and he expounds it accur 
ately and adequately. He then fixes upon a prominent 
and distinguishing peculiarity of Cousin s system, from 
which he dissents, and which he attempts to confute a 
point which constitutes nearly every thing that is at all 
peculiar in Cousin s system, namely, the assertion for 
man of the power of attaining the infinite as a positive 
in knowledge, grounded in the fundamental distinction 
Cousin makes between spontaneous and reflective 
reason. On the question whether a philosophy of the 
unconditioned be possible for man, or, in other words, 
whether and how far a positive cognition of the infinite 
is possible, he lays it down that four answers may be 
given. " 1. The Unconditioned is incognizable and in 
conceivable ; its notion being only negative of the con 
ditioned, which last can alone be positively known or 
Conceived. 2. It is not an object of knowledge ; but 



XXV111 ADDITIONAL KEMARKS 

its notion, as a regulative principle of the mind itself, 
is something more than a mere negation of the condi 
tioned. 3. It is cognizable, but not conceivable ; it 
can be known by a sinking back into identity with the 
absolute, but is incomprehensible by consciousness and 
reflection, which are only of the relative and the differ 
ent. 4. It is cognizable and . conceivable by conscious 
ness and reflection, under relation, difference, and plu 
rality. The first of these opinions we regard as true ; 
the second is held by Kant ; the third by Schelling ; 
and the last by our author [Cousin.] " 

Of these four opinions, it will be seen, the two first 
deny, and the two last assert, the possibility of a pos 
itive cognition of the absolute and infinite. Hamil 
ton proceeds to expound and enforce his own view, in 
itself, and with a profound criticism of the other opin 
ions ; and he as accurately and carefully discriminates 
Cousin s system in its contradiction to Kant s and 
Schelling s, as to his own. 

Now, see the spirit which animates him as a phil 
osophical controversialist. 

In 1829, he thus speaks : " Condemned to silence 
during the reign of Jesuit ascendancy, M. Cousin, after 
eight years of honorable retirement, not exempt from 
persecution, had again ascended the Chair of Philosophy, 
and the splendor with which he recommenced his aca 
demical career more than justified the expectation 
which his recent celebrity as a writer, and the memory 
of his earlier productions had inspired. Two thousand 
auditors listened, all with admiration, many with en 
thusiasm, to the eloquent exposition of doctrine in 
telligible only to the few ; and the oral discussion of 
philosophy awakened in Paris, and in France, an in- 



ON THE P1UNCETON BEV1EW. XXIX 

terest unexampled since the days of Abelard. The 
daily journals found it necessary to gratify, by their 
earlier summaries, the impatient curiosity of the public; 
and the lectures themselves, taken in short-hand and 
corrected by the professor, propagated weekly the in 
fluence of his instruction to the remotest provinces of 

the kingdom M. Cousin is the apostle 

of Eationalism in France, and we are willing to admit 
that the doctrine could not have obtained a more elo 
quent or devoted advocate. For philosophy he has 
suffered ; to her ministry he has consecrated himself 
devoted, without reserve, his life and labors. Nor has 
he approached the sanctuary with unwashed hands. 
The editor of Proclus and Descartes, the translator and 
interpreter of Plato, and the promised expositor of 
Kant, will not be accused of partiality in the choice 
of his pursuits ; while his two works, under the title of 
" Philosophical Fragments," bear ample evidence to 
the learning, elegance, and distinguished ability of their 
author. Taking him all in all, in France M. Cousin 
stands alone; nor can we contemplate his character and 
accomplishments without the sincerest admiration, even 
while we dissent from the most prominent principle of 
his philosophy * " The development of his system, in 
all its points, betrays the influence of German specula 
tions on his opinions. His theory is not, however, a 
scheme of exclusive nationalism ; on the contrary, the 
peculiarity of his doctrine consists in the attempt to 
combine the philosophy of experience and the philosophy 

* "From the most prominent principle of his philosophy." So it now 
stands in the volume of his Discussions, 1852 ; originally in the Edin- 
~burg Review it stood, "from almost every principle." The alteration ex 
presses what I thought it necessary to indicate as the extent of his 
meaning in the introduction to the first edition of this work in 1834. 



XX ADDITIONAL EEMAKKS 

of pure reason into one." So wrote Sir William Ham 
ilton in 1829. Let us see how he speaks after an in 
terval of twenty-three years. 

In a note to the reprint of this article, in the volume 
of ll Philosophical Discussions/ etc., in 1852, speaking 
of the reluctance with which he undertook the article, 
at the request of Professor Napier, then editor of the 
Edinburg Review, he goes on to say : 

" Moreover, I was still further disinclined to the un 
dertaking, because it would behoove me to come for 
ward in overt opposition to a certain theory, which, 
however powerfully advocated, I felt altogether unable 
to admit ; while its author, M. Cousin, was a philoso 
pher for whose genius and character I already had the 
warmest admiration an admiration which every sue- 
ceeding year has only augmented, justified, and con 
firmed. Nor, in saying this, need I make any reserva 
tion. For I admire even where I dissent ; and were M. 
Cousin s speculations on the absolute utterly abolished, 
to him would still remain the honor of doing more 
himself, and of contributing more to what has been 
done by others, in the furtherance of an enlightened 
philosophy than any other living individual in France 
I might say in Europe. Mr. Napier, however, was 
resolute ; it was the first number of the Eeview under 
his direction, and the criticism was hastily written. . 
. . . The illustrious thinker, against one of whose 
doctrines its argument is directed, was the first to 
speak of it in terms which, though I feel their generos 
ity, I am ashamed to quote. I may, however, state 
that, maintaining always his opinion, M. Cousin (what 
is rare, especially in metaphysical discussions) declared 
fchat it was neither unfairly combated nor imperfectly 



ON THE PRINCETON REVIEW. XXXI 

understood." This is noble ! And it is a noble spec, 
tacle to see two such, men, pre-eminent above all other 
men of the age for philosophical learning and ability, 
thus illustrating the beautiful utterance with which 
Cousin concludes his criticism of Locke : " The true 
Muse of History" the critical history of philosophy 
" is not Hatred but Love." 

Add to this the dedication prefixed by Sir William 
Hamilton to his great edition of Keid s Works : 

"To VICTOR COUSIN, 

" Peer of France, late Minister of Public Instruction, 
Professor of Philosophy, etc., etc., this Edition of the 
Works of Keid is dedicated, not only in token of the 
editor s admiration of the first Philosopher of France, 
but as a tribute, due appropriately and pre-eminently 
to the Statesman, through whom Scotland has been 
again united intellectually to her old political ally, 
and the Author s Writings (the best result of Scottish 
speculation) made the basis of Academical Instruc 
tion in Philosophy throughout the central nation of 
Europe." 

The reader may thus see in what estimation Cousin 
is held by Sir William Hamilton, the follower and 
great expositor of Eeid, occupant of the philosophical 
chair in the University of Edinburg, once filled by 
Eeid, speaking, too, at the intellectual center of Pres 
byterian Scotland, himself (as I gather) a Calvinist. 

Now, let us contrast the language of respect and 
admiration held by Cousin s great Scottish compeer 
with the arrogant and contemptuous terms employed 
by the writer of the article in the Princeton Review. 



ADDITIONAL &EMABK8 

There is a tone of arrogance and contempt pervading 
the whole article which can not be adequately exhibited : 
but specimens of the sneering insinuations, odious im 
putations, and unbecoming personalities with which 
it abounds, and of its numerous blunders in logic and 
in fact, may be given. 

After an introduction, which is somewhat largely oc 
cupied with giving his views about utilitarianism, Ed- 
wardsism, Emmonsisni, and Taylorism, the writer enters 
upon the task of overwhelming Cousin with the odium 
of being a pantheist, a fatalist, a denier of moral dis 
tinctions, a rejecter of the sacred Scriptures, and a 
subverter of Christianity, etc., etc. But, as prelimin 
ary to this, well knowing that German metaphysics 
was a thing already in extremely bad odor in this 
country, he gives a professed exposition of the systems 
of Kant and the later German philosophers, the man 
ner and object of which I have characterized in the 
preface to which these remarks are added. It is a grand 
horror-show, a set of mosaic pictures wrought up mainly 
out of detached sentences from the judgments, of cer 
tain theologians, and of absurd utterances of certain 
alleged disciples of tKose systems, designed to awaken 
the contempt and hatred -of pious souls ; and, all along, 
the reader is expected, and at intervals admonished, 
to bear in mind that between these German systems 
and Cousin s system there is little difference, and 
nothing to choose. Then comes the more extended 
and formal criticism of Cousin s doctrines, although at 
every convenient point the box of German horror-shows 
is turned round again, in order that the identity of the 
ghastly lineaments of Teutonic and of French impiety 
may be disclosed. Such is the plan and purpose of the 



ON THE PRINCETON KEVIEW. XXX111 

article. Now more particularly for the manner and 
spirit of its procedure : 

Since it is undeniable that Cousin expressly claims 
to hold the Personality of God, the personal Freedom 
both of God and man, the absolute and eternal Dis 
tinction of Eight and Wrong, and the Divine origin of 
Holy Scripture and Christianity, the only open question 
for a fair-minded critic is, whether he holds them by a 
happy inconsistency, while his system does not allow 
him to hold them ; and the only fair way of settling 
this question is by a rigorous deduction of the con 
sequences which flow by logical necessity from his 
grounding principles. But the writer of the article in 
question has not so proceeded. In fixing upon Cousin 
the odious charges he brings, his method is mainly that 
of forcing upon passages, detached from the connections 
where they sufficiently explain themselves, a sense not 
intended by the author ; or, in cases where it is just 
possible to put a bad interpretation upon them, assum 
ing it to be the true interpretation construing col 
lateral and unsystematic utterances, not by the system 
or by the systematic utterances* of the author, as 
fairness requires, but the system by them, forcing from 
words and sentences inferences not contained in them, 
and contrary to the author s express assertions ; and 
finally, culling and picking with special paim every 
expression that could be distorted into some odious or 
ridiculous oint of view. There is no thinker in the 
world who might not in this way be made odious or 
contemptible in the eyes of the superficial and ignorant. 

And here 1 may refer to one of those numerous notes 
in which all along the reviewer strives to throw personal 
odium upon those he opposes : < Dr. Henry, wh^ seen* 

2* 



XXXIV ADDITIONAL REMARKS 

anxious to give his readers an exalted idea of the 
philosophic temperament of M. Cousin, says that he 
rarely speaks in the Chamber of Peers, that he takes 
part in the discussions of that body only when some 
question relating to public instruction is before the 
Chamber, or on extremely rare occasions, etc/ Dr. 
Henry calculates rather largely upon the ignorance of 
bis readers as to the transactions and debates of the 
French Chamber of Peers. We need only refer, in 
illustration of the philosophic elevation of M. Cousin, 
to one of the most disgraceful scenes that ever occurred 
in any legislative body, in which this gentleman, in a 
debate upon the question of Spanish intervention, gave 
the lie direct to Count Mole, one of the ministry/ 

A man must be anxious to find occasion for sneering 
insinuations who could write such a comment upon 
such a statement as mine. I do not think it evinces 
any anxiety of any sort. But a person disposed to 
think evil, and say evil can always find something evil 
to think and to say ; and so the reviewer contrives to 
make out of this little sentence several derogatory 
charges against Cousin and myself. And his logic in 
the case is as admirable as his spirit is amiable. Cousin, 
it would seem, once lost his temper. Suppose it to be 
so. Can this be fairly called an " illustration" of his 
character? Does it justify the sweeping charge of 
habitual want of self-control, and even of moderation ? 
But suppose it does. What has that to do with what 
. said ? If the reviewer had quoted the whole of my 
jentence of which, however, he chose to quote only 
jialf his readers would have seen that I was speaking 
-)f Cousin as " destitute of political ambition/ What 
:hen if Cousin did on one occasion lose his temper ; 



ON THE PRINCETON REVIEW. XXXV 

what if he be moreover the generally infirm-tempered 
man his critic insinuates ? That does not prove me 
in the wrong in speaking of his want of political am 
bition. Still less does it justify the insinuation that I 
am anxious to gain him credit for moderation of tem 
per. And least of all does it justify the charge that I 
have attempted to do so knowing it to be undeserved, 
and with a calculated reliance upon the ignorance of 
my readers. What a complication of unfairness of 
spirit and of logical blundering ! A particular incident 
first made the basis of a sweeping judgment against 
Cousin, and then, by an irrelevant application an un 
conscious or a willful ignoratio elenchirnsule the basis 
of a twofold odious charge against me ! The article 
abounds with such things. 

The reviewer speaks of Cousin s philosophy as " to 

the last degree superficial and conceited 

making pretensions to extraordinary profoundness, but 
skimming the surface of things." . . . employing 
" a witch jargon, which, when penetrated with infinite 
pains, contains only some old truth then made use of 
to pass off a thousand nothings with ; " yet he pro 
nounces it a " system of abominations," although he 
finds it "difficult to define precisely how far" it "agrees 
with the misshapen phantasies" of German philosophy 
he had produced to view, because, " when language 
ceases to be the representative of ideas, it is not easy 
to tell what are intended to be equivalent forms of 
speech." 

" We are further embarrassed," he goes on to say, 
in the interpretation of this system, by the material 
consideration that no full exposition of it has yet been 
given to the world ... It is too early to pro- 



XXXVi ADDITIONAL REMARKS 

nounce of it, as Dr. Henry has done, that it is a dis 
tinct scientific theory, having its method, its principle, 
and its consequences/ .... Nor are we will 
ing to defer to the judgment of Dr. Henry, unless 
some of the letters of M. Cousin to the present trans 
lator/ contain a more full and systematic exposition of 
the principles of eclecticism than is to be found in hig 
published writings."* 

In the same tone, by way of justifying, perhaps, his 
want of deference to my judgment, he proceeds to point 
out a contradiction, as he supposes, between my state 
ment of the distinguishing peculiarity of Cousin s sys 
tem, contained in the first edition of this work, and 
that in the second namely, that I had represented it 
in the first edition to consist in Cousin s " distinction 
between the spontaneous and reflective reason," and in 
the second, in his " attempt to fix the infinite as a posi 
tive in knowledge." This criticism shows not only his 
want of deference for my judgment, but some other 
things besides. The intelligent and candid reader will 
see, however, that th5 two things thus put in contra 
diction are only two points of view of one and the same 
thing ; it is in the " distinction between the spontane 
ous and reflective reason," that Cousin s assertion of 

* In this connection he has a note sneering at Cousin and myself for 
our vanity: "Dr. Henry," he says, " may have sources of infonnaiion 
that are not open to the public. He has taken care not to leave his 
readers ignorant that he is in correspondence with M. Cousin. It wa& 
hardly necessary to inform the public that he was indebted to M. Cousia 
himself for a copy of the highly eulogistic memoir from which he has 
compiled his biographical notices of this philosopher." The fact of my 
correspondence with Cousin is also sneeringly referred to in several 
other places. 1 hope candid and kindly-disposed persons will not on 
this account impute to mo a vain-gloriousness of which I certainly was 
noi conscious. 



ON THE PRINCETON REVIEW. XXXV11 

" the infinite as a positive in knowledge" is grounded 
the former is the principle of which the latter is the 
consequence ; moreover, the reviewer might have en 
abled his readers to see this in the very sentence he 
quotes from in the first edition, if he had quoted the 
whole of it ; for it is there said : " in this distinction 
between the spontaneous and reflective intelligence ; 
in the recognition of the former as anterior, .... 
and immediately and positively cognizant of the infinite , 
no less than of the finite ; it is here that we find the 
principle which with its consequences constitutes and 
determines the peculiar system of M. Cousin." 

In a similar spirit, and with like justice, he character 
izes " the affectation and charlatanry" of the title of 
eclecticism, as applied to M. Cousin s philosophy, deny 
ing its fitness (after misconceiving its import), laugh 
ing at the reasons assigned for it by the author, and 
finally signalizing his humble editor as guilty of a 
" strange confusion of ideas" because I had said that 
the eclectic character of Cousin s philosophy " consists 
precisely in the pretension of applying its own distinct 
ive principles to the criticism of all other systems, dis 
criminating in each its part of truth and its part of 
error and combining the part of truth found in every 
partial, exclusive, and therefore erroneous system, into 
a higher comprehensive system." And the contradic 
tion he finds here is, in his view, " that the test to be 
applied implies the existence of a philosophical creed, 
and yet this creed is still to be formed from the parts 
of truth extracted, by the application of itself to all 
others !" If this were a right representation of my 
meaning, his point would certainly be well taken ; but 
I said nothing which indicates that the object of the 



XXXV111 ADDITIONAL EEMARKS 

eclectic process is to " form a creed." It is a critical 
method of applying to the history of philosophy a sys 
tem already formed by psychological observation, the 
result of which will be a comprehensive system that 
will be found to be the counterpart of the system pre 
viously derived from the analysis of consciousness. 
This ought to have been clear enough ; for Cousin 
(notwithstanding the declaration of the reviewer to the 
contrary) gives a complete exposition of his system, 
and of all that is peculiar in it, as found in the analy 
sis of consciousness, before he applies it to the criticism 
of other systems as a method of eclecticism. But on 
this point enough is elsewhere said. I will only add 
that Sir William. Hamilton found no difficulty in mak 
ing the proper discrimination, and saw no absurdity to 
signalize. In fine, as to his alleged inability to " put 
his readers in possession of M. Cousin s complete sys 
tem/ I have merely to say that ample materials for 
doing so were before him in the two works from which 
he quotes. Hamilton, writing ten years earlier, found 
no trouble on this score. 

But notwithstanding the difficulty, embarrassment, 
and inability he professes, the reviewer does at length 
proceed to an exposition of Cousin s system ; but, oddly 
enough, he adds at the end : " it is perhaps a work of 
supererogation to say that it is given in the author s 
own phraseology, though abridged, since we are sure 
our readers will acquit us of the ability to construct it 
ourselves" ! It might be asked what he means by 
this ? That he does not understand the system lie 
thus sets forth in the author s phraseology ? By what 
right, then, assume to criticise it ? But to the work of 
criticism he proceeds ; and a marvelous criticism it is. 



ON THE TRINCETON KEVIEW. XXXiX 

" We can now/ lie says, " show the reader the ground 
which M. Cousin s philosophy affords him for a belief 
in the objective existence of the world and of God/ 
namely, in the pure affirmation or spontaneous, unre- 
flective perception of reason. 

Passing over a number of misconceptions or perver 
sions, which it would take up too much room to signalize 
and expose, we come to the consequence he deduces 
from Cousin s doctrine: "We must, therefore, says 
the critic, "find this pure affirmation in our con 
sciousness, or admit, in deference to M. Cousin s logic, 
that it exists there, though so brightly that we can not 
see it, lefore we can believe in any objective existence"! 
This logic is to me most wonderful, going, as it does, 
upon an assumption contradicted in the experience of 
the great mass of men every day and hour the as 
sumption that men can not exercise faculties whose 
operations they do not analyze ! Just as if men can not 
accept the truth imposed upon them by the necessary 
convictions of reason, even though they may not bo 
able to state those convictions in the shape of form 
ulated principles, and may perhaps be still less able to 
see at once into the fact (so very obvious, however, to 
the thinker) that the operations of the mind which re 
flection now recognizes and formulates as necessary 
laws of thought, or fundamental principles of belief, 
must have taken place in the mind anterior to reflec 
tion (else they never could have become matter for 
reflection), and must, therefore, primitively have been 
precisely of the nature Cousin assigns to them, namely, 
spontaneous, unreflective ; and finally, just as though 
the necessary laws of the human mind can not be for 
men a ground of belief in God, even though they 



XI ADDITIONAL KEMAKKS 

should be as unable, as the critic supposes, ever to see 
into or be satisfied of the truth of Cousin s farther 
speculation, by which he attempts to show that the 
Divine existence is not only a belief, but a cognition ! 
It is precisely this speculation about the immediate 
and positive cognition of the infinite as primitively 
given in the spontaneous reason, that Hamilton com 
bats ; but he does not dream of deducing from it any 
such consequence as this reviewer s. He never imagines 
that it removes any of the old grounds of human faith 
in God ; if it adds nothing, it takes nothing away. As 
to the rest, this is a point on which, as I have elsewhere 
said, there will perhaps always be a difference of 
opinion. Truly great men and truly profound thinkers 
will, however, I hope, follow the example of Hamilton 
and Cousin, and differ with a clear intelligence and fair 
treatment of each other s doctrines and arguments, and 
with mutual respect and admiration for each other s 
persons ; while those who are neither truly great men, 
nor profound thinkers, such of them as enter into the 
controversy at all, will probably continue to take sides 
as the prejudices of education incline them, or the 
imagined interests of religion impel them, and will 
continue to display their incapacity to comprehend the 
great men who differ from each other, or to respect the 
persons of those who differ from themselves making 
up too often for the want of the true philosophical 
spirit by the abundance of their Christian zeal in plying 
the argumentum ad invidiam, by calculated appeals to 
the prejudices of the unreflecting multitude. But the 
reviewer goes on to point out "other results of the 
non-subjectivity of the spontaneous reason which are 
more startling." Here we have the charge of 



ON THE PRINCETON REVIEW. xli 

ism a startling charge, but more startling as a gro 
tesque perversion of the principle than as a legitimate 
result of it. At the same time it may be readily ad 
mitted, that in the passages quoted in this connection, 
there are some expressions which a person, predeter 
mined to make out a point, might plausibly put for 
ward as pantheistic, and which a reader predisposed to 
believe the charge, and not thoroughly acquainted with 
the author s writings, might naturally receive as such. 
And the same may be said of numerous passages of 
Holy Scripture. But to any candid and competent 
thinker, who proceeds upon the only fair rule of inter 
pretation in the case of ambiguous or unguarded ex 
pressions namely, that of explaining what an author 
says by its special purpose, and by what he says more 
officially and expressly in other places, it will be evident 
that these expressions, occurring where they do, are 
directed against the Scholastic way of considering God, 
which tends to make him but an abstraction instead 
of the Living God ; and so in the unguarded fervor 
with which he repudiates the " dead God" of the 
Schoolmen, he may seem to set forth "the grosser God 
of pantheism." 

Now, the principal passage which the reviewer quotes 
in proof of Cousin s pantheism, is only the latter part 
of a sentence, of which the first part not quoted 
expressly shows the special purport, and limits the 
sense of the expressions he does quote. His object is 
precisely to repudiate the idea of " an abstract God, a 
solitary king, exiled away from the creation upon the 
solitary throne of a silent eternity, and of an absolute 
existence which resembles the annihilation of existence." 
Then follow the expressions quoted by the reviewer : 



Xlii ADDITIONAL EEMARKS 

" He is a God at once true and real, at once substance 
and cause, always substance and always cause, being 
substance only so far as he is cause, and cause only so 
far as he is substance ; that is to say, "being absolute 
cause, one and many, eternity and time, space and 
number, essence and life, indivisibility and totality, 
principle, end, and center, at the summit of being and 
at its lowest degree, infinite and finite together, triple 
in word ; that is to say, at the same time God and 
nature and humanity. In fact, if God be not every 
thing, he is nothing." 

Now, no matter how startling these expressions may 
seem (and they are any thing but agreeable to me), yet 
thus torn from the preamble which should govern their 
interpretation and presented alone the juridical mind 
will appreciate the remark it is a violation of the 
simplest rule of just criticism to insist that they mean 
pantheism, and can mean nothing else, especially since 
Cousin elsewhere in the strongest terms combats and 
confutes every form of the pantheistic conception of 
God. The reader will find the proof of this in the 
additional pieces in this volume. Many others might 
be cited where he speaks directly on this point. I will 
adduce but two : 

Combating pantheism (Works, 1st series, vol. ii. 
Course of 1818, p. 383), he says : 

" God is infinite, absolutely infinite in his essence, 
and it is a contradiction to say that an indefinite series 
equals the infinite ; for, after all, the indefinite is only 
the finite multiplied by itself. The world is a whole 
which has its harmony, for God could have produced 
only a work complete and harmonious. The harmony of 
the world reflects the unity of God, just as its indefinite 



ON THE PRINCETON REVIEW. 

quantity is the defective sign of the infinitude of God. 
To say that the world is God, is to admit nothing but 
the world ; it is to deny God. Give it any name you 
please, it is at bottom atheism." 

So in his Introduction to Pascal s Thoughts, p. xiii., 
he says : " Let us speak without circumlocution. What 
is pantheism ? It is not a disguised atheism, as it has 
been called. No : it is avowed atheism. To say, in 
the presence of this universe, vast, beautiful, magnifi 
cent as it is : God is there entire, behold God, there is 
no other this is to say, as clearly as possible, that 
there is no God, for it is to say that the universe has 
not a cause essentially different from its effects." Many 
similar citations, as I have said, might be made. 

Cousin, then, is no Pantheist. We have his ex 
plicit condemnation of it. He does not confound God 
with the universe. And to say that he is a pantheist 
in the improper sense in which the word is sometimes 
used, to say, that is, that he confounds the universe 
with God, is equally at variance with hundreds of ex 
plicit utterances of his. It would be suicidal to his 
system ; it would be in palpable contradiction with the 
numerous critical confutations he has constructed 
against every form of resolving the universe of mind 
and matter into mere phenomena. It is the very scope 
of his philosophy to establish the objective reality and 
the substantial existence of the universe of mind and 
matter, as distinct from God. 

The candid thinker will, therefore, see that the ex 
pressions quoted by the reviewer, whatever they may 
mean, must not be taken to mean pantheism, in the 
intention of their author. The attempt to harmonize 
them with his manifold explicit declarations, is re- 



ADDITIONAL REMARKS 



quired by the simplest rule of justice. And the candid 
thinker will, I apprehend, find no more difficulty in 
considering them as fervid, exaggerated expressions of 
the all-pervading presence and energy of the living God 
in the universe, than he does in putting the like inter 
pretation upon many similar passages of holy Scripture. 
Yet it is in keeping with the characteristic spirit of the 
article under consideration, that the writer should speak 
of Cousin as "not permitting the shadow of a doubt to 
rest upon the pantheistical tendency of his philosophy/ 
and of his "attempting to forestall the charge of pan 
theism," by the " not very creditable artifice of pro 
nouncing it the bugbear of feeble imaginations" 
thereby intimating . to his readers that Cousin speaks 
as one having taken pantheism under his protection, 
and so wishing to discredit the intelligence of those 
who dislike it ; whereas, the very reverse (as may be 
seen above) is the case, and Cousin, disliking it as 
much as they, only wishes to guard his readers from 
the folly of seeing pantheism in every thing, and not 
knowing when it is uttered or when it is combated. 

Then follows a representation of Cousin s views on 
the question of the relative comprehensibility of the 
Divine being made up partly of quotations quite un 
objectionable, I apprehend, to most thinkers, but whicli 
the reviewer appears to have made because he thought 
they would be considered otherwise, and partly of gross 
perversions of Cousin s views, effected by leaving out 
some material part of his expression of them. But on 
this point the reader is referred to the last piece in this 
volume. In this connection the reviewer talks of the 
" admirable contrast between the pert self-sufficiency 
of M. Cousin and the humble truth-loving spirit of the 



ON THE PRINCETON KEVIEW. xlv 

illustrious Descartes, who is honored and lauded [by 
Cousin] as the author of the psychological method, and 
the founder of the ideal school of philosophy. Cousin 
calls himself one of the sons of Descartes. Degenerate 
son of a noble sire ! Compare the modest caution of 
the one with the all-embracing arrogance of the other." 
Then he gives a quotation from Descartes, containing a 
very sound remark, almost a philosophical common 
place, which Cousin would be the last man in the world 
to deny. " We could quote much," he goes on to add, 
" to the same effect from Leibnitz, to whom M. Cousin 
does homage as the greatest of modern philosophers/ 
These were men who were seeking, with passionate 
earnestness after truth ; they were not founding new 
schools in philosophy. They were men of large powers 
and large attainments, and could afford to confess ig 
norance where it is folly to be wise." This of course is 
intended to imply that Cousin is wanting in earnest 
ness after truth, in large powers, etc., and can not af-. 
ford to confess ignorance where it is folly to be wise. 
It will, perhaps, be news to the learned reader that 
Descartes and Leibnitz were " not founding schools in 
philosophy ;" and it may puzzle him to see why Cousin 
should be jeered at even if he were, as is insinuated, 
engaged in that business. 

We are told by the reviewer " that with this for his 
point of departure" his view on the relative compre- 
hensibility and incomprehensibility of God " it is not 
surprising that M. Cousin should be led to reject en 
tirely the God of the Scriptures, and substitute in his 
place a shadowy abstraction" ! But such a point-blank 
Blander as this is surprising to me, even from the writer 
of this article. Cousin s God a shadowy abstraction ! 



ADDITIONAL 11EMAKKS 

This is the last charge in the world I should ever im 
agine would be made. Grod turned into an abstraction \ 
It is the very thing of all others he combats. I confess 
myself totally unable to comprehend how any man 
should have any notion of what he is talking about 
who makes such a charge. 

Next we have a long jeering comment upon Cousin s 
assertions about the impossibility of atheism, which, 
however, he takes as amounting to nothing, and in spite 
of which he declares Cousin to be quite as much an 
atheist as Leucippus, Spinoza, and La Place, only the 
latter were more " candid I" This is connected with 
some curious criticisms on the ideas of Spinoza and 
others about creation out of nothing, and their de 
monstration of its impossibility, as compared with 
Cousin s demonstration of its possibility and necessity, 
going to show that there is not a pin to choose between 
his ground and theirs. This will be edifying to the 
learned reader. On this point, of the idea of creation 
as necessary, enough is elsewhere said. 

Again : while Cousin is charged with atheism, it is 
admitted that " he never fails in polite respect to relig 
ion " but his expressions of respect and veneration are 
jeeringly characterized as the " deferential and smirk- 
ing politeness of a French petit maitre" So, too, it is 
said, " he is studiously polite to Christianity ;" but his 
politeness is represented, in one place, as a "conde 
scending patronage," and in another, as a hypocritical 
guise, like that of the old French Encyclopedists, 
assumed in order the more easily to overthrow it ; 
" but," continues the reviewer, " unless it be to blind 
the eyes and evade the arm of the ecclesiastical power, 
which in Catholic countries holds watch over the press, 



ON THE PBINCETON REVIEW. xlvii 

we do not gee what good purpose can be effected by so 
thin a disguise as that assumed by M. Cousin. He 
surely can not imagine that the most ordinary intelli 
gence could fail to penetrate ike flimsy hypocrisy"! I 
wonder if the writer was unconscious of the enormity 
of this charge. I wonder if he was unaware that it 
was a violation of the proprieties of philosophical con - 
troversy. I wonder whether he did not know that it 
was an outrage upon the decencies of any kind of public 
debate, such as upright and honorable men every where 
look upon with reprobation, such as they expect to see 
only in the lowest organs of political party rancor. In 
my j udgment, it will take a long time for any intelli 
gence, ordinary or extraordinary, to see from Cousin s 
writings, that this atrocious charge of " hypocrisy/ is 
one to which Cousin is justly obnoxious his very tem 
perament makes it incredible ; on the contrary, it may 
readily be believed he speaks with his whole heart when 
he speaks (as in the preface to the last edition of Ids 
work on the True, the Beautiful, and the Good) to the 
young men of France on this wise : " Far be from 
you that sad philosophy which preaches to you mate 
rialism and atheism as doctrines to regenerate the 
world ; they kill, it is true, but they do not regenerate. 
Nor listen you to those superficial spirits who give 
themselves out as profound thinkers, because, after 
Voltaire, they have discovered difficulties in Christian 
ity ; measure your progress in philosophy by your prog 
ress in tender veneration for the Gospel." They will 
readily believe him sincere in that noble passage (too 
long to quote here) in which he explains himself con 
cerning true religion and true philosophy, as naturally 
and necessarily allied, differing in form, in language, 



Xlviii ADDITIONAL REMARKS 

but never in substance ; calling up before the mind s 
eye St. Augustine preaching the Gospel to the faithful 
in the Church of Hippone, and St. Augustine, the acute 
and profound metaphysician, combating the Acade 
micians with their own arms two different men in one 
person, as different as possible in forms of utterance, 
yet the same in the harmony, the sameness of the 
truth.* 

Following the charge of hypocrisy, we have a repre 
sentation of the nature and bearing of Cousin s philoso 
phy on revelation. It is impossible within our limits 
to show all the gross perversions and absurd blunders 
of this representation. An absurd untruth may be 
uttered in a sentence which it would take many pages 
fully to expose. But we must give a specimen or two : 

" Locke/ says the critic, " encounters the sneers of 
M. Cousin, because he had not discovered this [hypo 
critical] way of making Christianity easy. Speaking 
of the appeals made by Locke to Christianity, to revela 
tion, and to faith, he [Cousin] says : i By faith, how 
ever, and by revelation, Locke does not understand a 
philosophical faith and revelation. This interpretation 
did not exist in the age of Locke. He understands 
faith in the proper orthodox theological sense/ If we 
have a just idea of the temper of Locke, he would 
have scorned to avail himself of this slippery and de 
ceptive evasion." There is in this passage a double 
blundering in fact and in logic, in order to intimate an 
odious charge against Cousin. Let the reader turn to 
the passage referred to in the critical examination of 
*Locke.f In the first place he will see there is no 

* On the True, the Beautiful, and the Good. Scot. xvL, near the end 
f Pagre 257 of this volume. 



ON THE PRINCETON REVIEW. 

" sneer" there. Cousin never sneers. I do not believe 
there is a sneer in all the sixty-five volumes to which 
Cousin s name is attached, as author, translator, editor, 
and commentator. The reader will see that Cousin 
simply states in serious sincerity the sense in which 
Locke uses the words revelation and faith. In the next 
place, the reason given for the alleged sneer is the 
oddest blunder in the world. The question was a 
thousand miles away from having any thing to do with 
any "way of making Christianity easy/ 7 It was a 
question about the existence of finite spirits, our own 
souls. Confessing himself unable to derive the knowl 
edge of them from our ideas, as given either in sensa 
tion or in reflection the two only sources of knowledge 
his system admits Locke (whether consistently or not 
is another question) has recourse to faith, to revelation. 
" Therefore/ says he, " concerning the existence of 
finite spirits, we must be content with the evidence of 
faith." And Cousin simply notes the fact, that by 
faith Locke of course means faith in the Holy Scrip 
tures, and not faith or revelation in any philosophical 
sense. To have taken it in the latter sense would have 
been not only foreign to Locke s purpose, but would 
have been too palpably suicidal a thing for him to have 
done. This eulogy of Locke s honorable scorn to avail 
himself of a " slippery and deceptive evasion" by which 
he would have absurdly cut his own throat, is incom 
parable ! Locke is as undeserving of eulogy as of a 
sneer ; and Cousin, in his simple explanation, as Kttle 
thought of making the one as the other. But the mis 
placed eulogy served the reviewer s purpose of insin 
uating that Cousin was not the man to scorn availing 
himself of a dishonorable evasion. 

3 



1 ADDITIONAL REMARKS 

But to take a more direct instance of the way in 
which Cousin s hostility to divine revelation in Holy 
Scripture is made out. Speaking of those truths 
which are disclosed to us absolutely, universally, and 
necessarily, in the spontaneous convictions of the 
human mind, Cousin has these expressions, which are 
juoted by the reviewer : " When man refers to God 
the truth which he can not refer either to this world or 
to his own personality, he refers it to him to whom he 
ought to refer it ; and this affirmation of truth without 
reflection this inspiration this enthusiasm is verit 
able revelation Every where, in its in 
stinctive and spontaneous form, reason is equal to 
itself, in all the generations of humanity, and in all 
the individuals of which those different generations are 
composed/ * Now, these sentences, I apprehend, 
taken in their connection, and with reference to the 
point on which they bear, contain nothing either 
strange or untrue nothing that is not quite in har 
mony with what St. Paul (Rom. i. 19 ; ii. 14-16) is 
directed by special inspiration to call our attention to 
as a fact lying in the constitution of the human mind, 
and also with what St. John says, John i. 9. 

But see how they strike the reviewer: "It is too 
plain for argument," says he, " that these principles 
destroy all that is peculiar or valuable in the Sacred 
Scriptures. The distinctive claim which they put 
forth of containing a revelation from God, is set aside 
by a similar claim in behalf of all men." Admirable 
logic this ! Because God has revealed himself in 
one way, therefore he can not reveal himself in any 

* All the quotations made by the reviewer from Cousin s Introduc 
tion are from Linberg s translation, Boston. 1832. 



ON THE PRINCETON REVIEW. 1! 

other way ! Because ho has made a special revelation 
in the Holy Scriptures, therefore he can not have made 
a general one in nature or in the mind of man ; and 
so to say, as Cousin says, that he has revealed himself 
to all men in the constitution of their minds, and is 
thereby, as St. Paul says, "manifest in them/ is in 
effect to deny that he has revealed himself in the Holy 
Scriptures ! I do not think that this criticism of the 
reviewer will gain general acceptance among good 
thinkers, or be admitted as proving Cousin to be a sub- 
verier of the Bible. I do not think that the notion of 
a revelation call it even a Divine revelation of cer 
tain things in the spontaneous convictions of the reason 
which God has put into the universal heart of human 
ity, will be considered by our best minds as incom 
patible with the notion that God has also made a 
special revelation of certain other things in Holy Scrip 
ture. If I did, I should be sadly troubled to know 
on what grounds this special revelation can be authen 
ticated to us. 

But the reviewer is apparently satisfied with his 
logic ; and so he goes on to draw out a long train of 
the frightful consequences of calling the spontaneous 
intuition of truth an inspiration, a revelation ; that it 
makes it impossible for the truths declared by Christ 
and his apostles to be a revelation in any more special 
sense ; makes the Koran and all other pretended special 
revelations of equal authority with the Bible ; makes 
Strauss sLife of Jesus ; makes " Marheineke and Rohr, 
like Herod and Pilate, agree when the Son of God is 
to be crucified ;" until at last, overcome with profound 
emotion, he cries out j " Would to God that our fellow 
Ohiisiians in America, before abandoning as shallow 



Hi ADDITIONAL KEMARKS 

the philosopliy of the great English fathers, would take 
the trouble to examine the issues of the paths on which 
they are entering ! Let us have any philosophy, how 
ever shallow, that leaves us in quiet possession of the 
Gospel, rather than the dark and hopeless bewilder 
ment into which we are thrown by the deep metaphys 
ics of Cousin/ If the whole article had been written 
in the same strain as this ; if it had been a statement, 
calm or pathetic, of the points wherein the writer found 
his faith disturbed by the metaphysics of Cousin (which 
he here pronounces deep, but which he elsewhere calls 
" shallow and superficial to the last degree") ; if it had 
been made without dogmatism, invidious arguing and 
set effort to make the worst of every thing, and free 
from arrogance and contempt, odious personal charges 
and insinuations ; I should have felt only sincere sym 
pathy pity mingled with respect ; and I would have 
tried to put his disturbed mind at rest, in a provisional 
way at least, by showing him that as he can not mean 
to stand on all the " great English fathers ;" seeing 
they are divided into two great schools mutually de 
structive of each other and must make an election 
between them ; so if he should be willing to take the 
truly great Keid for his guide, he may free himself 
from alarm, since Cousin and Keid are in entire har 
mony, save on the question whether our conviction of 
the objective existence of God be a faith or a knowl 
edge ; and, moreover, that so well persuaded is Cousin 
himself of this, that, as Minister of Public Instruction, 
he caused the writings of Reid to be made the basis of 
academical instruction in philosophy throughout all the 
colleges and schools in France. 

But the respectable spirit evinced in the paragraph 



ON THE PRINCETON EEVIEW. 1111 

just quoted, is but a transient mood. In the very 
next sentence, he brings down a remorseless blow on 
Cousin s head and on mine too, with a heavy club bor 
rowed from the hands of Edmund Burke, wherewith 
he cudgeled the heads of the French infidels of his day, 
to the effect that we are " infidel" expounders whose 
expoundings he does not want, dealers in " unhallowed 
fire," which he will not have to light his temple withal, 
" smugglers of adulterated metaphysics," whose " in 
fectious stuff" he will not have to perfume it withal. 
No ; he " has a wide charity" he tells us, " for what 
seems" to him "nonsense, and can extend even an 
amiable and silent tolerance to the pretensions of those 
who utter it to be the depositaries of all wisdom. But 
when this nonsense begins to ape the German impiety, 
when it open]y professes to cast off all subordination to 
religion, and prates in dogmatic superiority to revela 
tion," he "can not but lift up his solemn protest 
against it." 

Now when a man talks in this arrogant way, and 
brings such charges as these, and others such as we 
have already seen and shall see, affecting not only the 
opinions but the moral characters of men who have, 
perhaps, studied philosophy and theology as much as 
he, it is very important that he should be in the right 
in his charges ; for it is not very likely nor justly to be 
required, that those who are thus assailed, while pre 
serving their own self-respect, should be studious to 
manifest much respect for their assailant in defending 
themselves. 

We now come to what, on the whole, I consider the 
worst part of the article that which relates to Cousin s 
ethical principles, and contains the reviewer s mode of 



v ADDITIONAL IlEMARKS 

making good the cliarge ; summarily expressed in an 
other place, that his " system erects a false standard 
in morals, and confounds the distinction between right 
and wrong." When I say the worst, I do not mean 
that the misconceptions or perversions of Cousin s lan 
guage and meaning are greater, or the charge more 
monstrous, for in this respect scarcely any thing can 
be worse than what we have already seen ; but that 
the misconceptions or perversions are so palpable, and 
the odious charge so palpably wanting in truth. Lan 
guage does not contain terms more exact and clear, 
nor is it possible to frame terms into statements more 
precise, more full, more unambiguous or impossible to 
be mistaken in their meaning, than those in which 
Cousin, in almost innumerable ways and places, pro 
pounds a doctrine the very reverse of that imputed tc 
him. I can conceive no excuse for the reviewer. Ht 
subjects himself, in my opinion, to the reprobation of 
every honorable man. Supposing it to be conceivable 
that a man, with limited acquaintance with philosoph 
ical systems, and limited ability for the critical appre 
ciation of them, coming to the criticism of Cousin s 
system, under the bias of strong predetermined relig 
ious prejudices, might be able, without* deliberate bad 
faith, to get up such a representation of Cousin s pan 
theism, atheism, denial of revelation and of Christian 
ity, as we have seen ; yet that any man of ordinary 
capacity and ordinary intelligence of the subject, witl* 
merely that before his eyes which the volume I put 
forth contained, should be able, from detached and 
garbled passages out of the volume translated by Mr. 
Linberg, to pronounce such a judgment .on Cousin s 
views on moral distinctions ; that he should be able to 



ON THE PRINCETON REVIEW. IV 

do it in good faith, or at least without perceiving such 
a contradiction between his representation and the 
official systematic utterances of Cousin on the point, 
as ought to make an honest man pause this is to me 
inconceivable, and I frankly say I do not believe it. I 
think the man guilty of slander ; and I think that in 
the clear-sighted judgment of our Lord God, there are 
many inmates of the state prison less morally guilty 
than the slanderer. I am not one of those dainty re 
ligionists who have a greater horror of sins of infirmity 
of the flesh than of sins of the spirit ; and I would 
sooner withhold my hand from the deliberate maligner, 
than from many a less reputable sinner in the scale of 
social estimation. I think our Lord feels as I do ; 
when on earth, it was precisely upon the heads of the 
high religious professors of the age, the holiest separat 
ists from publicans and sinners, that He lanched his 
severest denunciations : " Woe unto you scribes and 
pharisecs ;" and to those who now-a-days seek to advo 
cate his cause by unrighteous imputations, I fancy the 
Lord God still, as of old, putting the stern interroga 
tion : 

" What hast thou to do to declare my statutes ? 
Thou sittest and speakest against thy brother ; 
Thou slanderest thine own mother s son." 



If what I have said on this point be strongly said, 
let it be remembered that I speak in defense of Cousin 
and of myself too, against a charge which, if not true, 
and if not undeniably made out to be true, must be 
held to be a slander, affecting a man s character in 
that which most dearly concerns a public teacher, his 



v ADDITIONAL REMARKS 

moral and religious convictions. The justification of 
my language depends on the issue I make, that the 
charge is untrue and not at all justifiably made out 
an issue I am ready to submit to any body of compe 
tent and impartial thinkers. 

But to proceed : in many cases where the spirit of 
petty sneering is evident enough, it would take whole 
pages to expose fully the strange mixture either of 
misconception or of perversion by which Cousin s 
views are distorted into something at once odious and 
ridiculous. An instance may be seen in the mode by 
which the charge of fatalism is made out. There is 
not room here for the whole grotesque representation. 
The reviewer finds something monstrous, and at the 
same time laughable, in Cousin s idea that the develop 
ment of the human mind in history and in philosophy 
should have its necessary laws, and particularly that 
the movement of the spirit of independence in philoso 
phy, represented by Descartes, and carried forward by 
Malebranche, Spinoza, and Leibnitz, should come at 
length to need " a great professor," because, forsooth, 
according to his representation of Cousin s reasoning, 
" Descartes was a gentleman and a soldier, Male 
branche a monk, Spinoza a recluse, and Liebnitz a 
statesman" ! But he takes care not to give Cousin s 
reason for saying so, which was, that these great 
thinkers, being what they respectively were soldier, 
monk, recluse, and statesman naturally failed to give, 
and did not aim to give to Cartesianism the full and 
regular exposition, which would " imbue new genera 
tions with its spirit by introducing it into instruction." 
" There was needed for Cartesianism," Cousin con 
cludes, " a great professor : such is the place and 



ON THE PRINCETON REVIEW. vl 

destiny of Wolff." It seems to me there is nothing 
here that smacks either of " fatalism" or of any thing 
ridiculous. But perhaps, after all, it was the sting in 
the tail of the critic s representation that pleased him. 
most ; for, to Cousin s statement of the need of a great 
professor, such as Wolff, the reviewer adds : " the in 
ference is obvious. There still remained a necessity 
in the philosophy of the age for a Peer of France ;" 
quere : does the same principle of necessary emanation 
from the age and circumstances hold in the case of 
translators ? Or could M. Cousin, by an inverse 
method, declare the horoscope of his admirers ?" 
This is nice ! I make no defense of Cousin ; but I 
must say, I really do not think it right to jeer at me 
for having translated some of his writings. But still 
unsatisfied, the critic goes on to get another cut at 
Cousin, by showing that he constructed his scheme of 
fatalism with all its expositions, in order to prove not 
only the necessity of his elevation to the peerage, but 
also that he is a "great man," because he is a " great 
philosopher/ because he has " succeeded," and, finally, 
because he is "a fatalist, as all great men are," and 
the critic thinks " he has given sufficient proof that 
he labors under no lack of this qualification." This 
again is nice and amiable. 

But at this stage of his progress the reviewer gets 
wrought up to too much emotion to find vent in jeers 
and covert sneers ; and so he declares in good round 
dogmatic terms, that " except the philosophy of the 
absolute, few things can be imagined more ludicrously 
and disgustingly absurd than the revelations of Jacob 
Behmen." And then we have a long rigmarole of 

scraps of second-hand learning, to prove the identity 
3* 



Iviii ADDITIONAL REMARKS 

of Behmenism with Schellingism, and of both with 
the ancient Gnosticism, Oriental Soofeisin, Buddhism, 
and all other pantheistic mysticisms all for the pur 
pose of conveying the imputation (yet not attempting 
to establish it) that Cousin s philosophy is of the same 
sort ; although the contrary may be seen in the fact, 
that one of the clearest expositions of the Oriental 
philosophy, in all its systems, and of the errors in each, 
is to be found in Cousin s History of Philosophy. The 
critic confesses, with much complacency, his utter 
inability to comprehend all the stuff that he expounds, 
but thinks that " it is, however, the happy faculty of 
tho absolute philosophers, the Behmenites, the Gnostics, 
the Soofies, the Buddhists, and a few Americans I" 
Among the latter I suppose I am to consider myself 
intended. In reply I have only to say, I hope I shall 
never undertake to expound what I do not at least 
think I understand ; perhaps I may be pardoned in so 
far retorting the sneer as to say, after Coleridge s 
fashion, that while there are some great writers of 
whose understanding I am ignorant, there are others 
whose ignorance I understand. 

After all this, it is not surprising that he comes out 
severely upon the public institutions that have intro 
duced this book into instruction. He would like to 
have their " names made known to the public." He 
would like it, in the first place, because he " would 
like to know which of our public seminaries of educa 
tion has so far distinguished itself in point of science 
as to take, for its text-book on mental philosophy, an 
immethodized set of criticisms on Locke ;" with more 
of the like stuff, to which no answer is here needful 
for those who will look at what I have said in the 



ON THE PRINCETON REVIEW. x 

preface that stands first in order in this volume, and 
in the introduction that follows ; only I may here 
point out the untruth of the assertion ahout " an im- 
methodized set of criticisms." The Examination of 
Locke is one of the most perfectly methodized criti 
cisms in the world. 

But, in the next place, he wants the "names of 
these colleges made known to the public," that it may 
be known " what college or university dares assume 
the responsibility of instilling the principles of this 
book into the young men committed to its care." 
" Every parent and guardian in the land has an in 
terest in knowing," in order, I suppose, that they may 
beware where they send their sons and wards, if they 
do not send them to Princeton. 

There is something decidedly impressive and poten 
tial in this. Those colleges which have not. been 
shamed by the jeers, nor overawed by the threats 
emanating from this American Vatican, have reason 
perhaps to rejoice that there is not, in this country, an 
" arm of ecclesiastical power" like that " which" ac 
cording to the reviewer s peculiar figurative, but deli 
cate and cordial-seeming euphuism " in [Roman] 
Catholic countries, keeps watch over the press," and 
especially that its heavy hand is not at the will of 
this Princeton reviewer. 

Finally, to crown the summit of this vast pile of 
odium he has built up, we have a quantity of trans 
cendental cloud and moonshine out of Ralph Waldo 
Emerson, which is represented to be nothing but Cou- 
sinism, and which frightened the propriety of the old 
school Unitarians ; and in the clear obscure of which I 
am adroitly made to loom forth as the guilty introducer 



li ADDITIONAL REMARKS 

of doctrines banned alike by all reputable persons, 
heterodox as well as orthodox, and so one necessarily 
doomed to Coventry by all ; and the only excuse for 
me is found in the fact, that I " did not know what" I 
" was doing" that " fascinated by the first charms of 
this new philosophy, and dazzled by the brilliancy of 
a correspondence with a peer of France/ I was " not 
able to see the end from the beginning." 

Presuming, however, that my vanity, in being " con- 
gecrated by no less a personage than M. Cousin to the 
duty of reanimating our philosophy," would impel me 
to go on in the pernicious work of spreading error, 
the reviewer declares he " will watch" my " labors." 
His watching has given him little to see. Indolently 
averse to the labor of writing, without ambition for 
the honors of authorship, and absorbed in the twofold 
duty of a professor and a clergyman, I have published 
under my own name but little of any sort, during this 
long interval, and nothing in philosophy, save a manual 
of its history for the use of my classes, translated from 
the French, to which I added a continuation, including 
the history of philosophy in the nineteenth century, 
laborious indeed in preparation, but unpretending in 
form, a work for which I am naturally gratified to 
know that I have been kindly and respectfully spoken 
of by Sir William Hamilton, but which has not, so far 
as I am aware, attracted the attention of the Princeton 
reviewer. The scene of my philosophical labors during 
this long period has been my lecture-room. There, 
until failing health broke me off from all public work, 
I have labored with all my mind and heart to form 
right-minded and right-hearted young men, to imbue 
them not only with the principles of a sound specu- 



ON THE PRINCETON REVIEW. Ixi 

lative and ethical philosophy, but with the true phil 
osophical spirit. The fruits of my labors are in the 
minds and hearts of the hundreds of young men who 
have gone out from my teaching ; and the rich reward 
of my labors is in the conviction I have that they 
know I tried to do them good and did do them good, 
and in the grateful affection in which I know they 
hold me. 

The reader has thus seen that the writer of the arti 
cle in the Princeton Review, charges Cousin directly 
with being a pantheist, a fatalist, a denier of moral 
distinctions, an atheist, " openly professing to cast off 
all subordination to religion," a rejecter of revelation 
and of Christianity charges made in the very teeth of 
Cousin s express assertions to the contrary charges, 
the utter and monstrous falsehood of which may ba 
seen in this volume. 

The reader has seen, also, that by jeering insinuations 
or direct imputations, he is accused of the most odious 
and contemptible vanity, of pert self-sufficiency and 
conceit, of bad temper, of want of earnestness in search 
of truth, of discreditable artifice, of not being above 
slippery and deceptive evasion, and finally of hypocrisy, 
and that too of a sort which every honorable man must 
pronounce to be the most abominable. 

And in all this accumulated odium, I am made to 
share hold up to public reprobation as -the guilty 
introducer of the monstrous writings of this wretched 
man into the country, and thus, in conjunction with 
the guilty colleges that have adopted them, poisoning 
the sources from whence the young men of the country 
draw tli3 nurture of their minds ; as being, besides, a 



Lvii ADDITIONAL REMARKS 

contemptibly vain-glorious meddler with matters beyond 
my reach ; for whose guilt, indeed, the only excuse is 
to be found in the vanity that blinded me and the stu 
pidity that incapacitated me from knowing what I was 
doing. 

My main purpose has been to signalize the spirit and 
temper of the article in its contrast with that of Sir 
William Hamilton s ; and bad as the impression I 
nave conveyed may be, I assure the reader it is not one 
ualf as bad as the reading of the whole article itself 
will produce. Something also of the character of the 
article, as a philosophical discussion, and of the writer s 
competency to engage in the criticism of such questions, 
I have incidentally shown ; but how bad, how very bad 
the article is, as a whole, in these respects, I have not 
attempted to show. Nothing can adequately show it 
but the whole article itself nor that except to a true 
thinker, accurately acquainted with Cousin s system, 
and with the history of philosophy in all its great sys 
tems. Such a person, and only such a person, can per 
fectly see how thoroughly wanting in any respectable 
quality, as a philosophical criticism, this article is. 
Enough however has, I trust, been made evident to 
the intelligent reader to justify the terms in which I 
characterized the article in the preface to the third 
edition. 

I have prolonged these remarks far beyond the limits 
I proposed. I hope indulgence will be granted to their 
length and to the personal feelings I have just expressed, 
if it is kindly considered what recollections and reflec 
tions the reading again, after the lapse of so many 
years, of such a virulent attack, not only upon Cousin, 
but upon myself, would naturally awaken. I was then 



ON THE PRINCETON REVIEW. Ixiii 

a young man just entering upon the career of public 
instruction, in the University of New York. The arti 
cle was calculated, if I ought not to say designed, to 
overwhelm me with odium. It was fitted, too, to com 
promise the interests of the institution in which I held 
the Chair of Philosophy. It did not injure me in the 
estimation of my colleagues ; they knew me. That it 
did not render my position untenable ; that I kept it 
for thirteen years ; as long as I was able to discharge 
its duties, is due to the intelligence and candor, the 
kindness and firmness which prevailed in the body of 
my constituents. 

I have only to add that there are other considerations 
bearing upon the interests of truth, which may serve as 
d justification for these remarks. It is the misfortune 
of philosophy, especially among us, that such an im 
mense proportion of the eminent ability of the country 
is drawn away and absorbed by the more stirring activ 
ities of practical life. Comparatively few, except among 
the clergy, either know or care for the philosophical dis 
cussions that arise ; while of the clergy, a large propor 
tion, destitute, perhaps, of any interest in philosophical 
questions, except as they bear upon religious doctrines, 
and with very little of that interest, with no time to 
study them thorouglily, either in themselves or in their 
relations to theology ; just adopt implicitly the opinions 
of those who set up as authorities and guides ; and so 
it comes to pass, that under the nightmare-pressure of 
an ignorant but tyrannical ecclesiastical opinion, those 
who can think dare not let themselves think, or if they 
think, dare not give free utterance to their thought, for 
fear of encountering in their professional, social, and 
material relations, a martyrdom quite as appalling to 



ADDITIONAL EEMAKKS. 

the sensitive soul as the old stake and faggot. Let us 
hope for the prevalence of a better spirit. To promote 
it, in the limited sphere of my labors, has been the 
great object of my life. 

C. S. HENBY. 

New York, December 1, 1855. 



INTRODUCTION. 



IN France, in the eighteenth century, the principles of 
the philosophy of Locke were the most completely de 
veloped and most boldly carried out to their final conse 
quences. From France, too, has come, in the nineteenth 
century, the most regular, complete, and thorough examin 
ation and refutation of them contained in the following 
lectures of M. COUSIN". This circumstance may render it 
proper to connect, with the brief notices of the life and 
philosophical labors of M. Cousin here intended to be given, 
a few remarks upon the history of philosophy in France 
from the time of Locke. 

At the time when the influence of the Cartesian philoso 
phy in France was giving way to the new spirit of the 
eighteenth century, nothing was more natural than the 
ready reception of the system of Locke, claiming as it did 
and to a certain extent, justly to be a fruit of the move 
ment of independence and of the experimental method. 
Thus put upon the road of Empiricism, the activity of the 
French mind continued to develop its principles, and carry 
out its consequences to their last results.* Condillac, ex- 

* The term Empiricism, as applied to the system of Locke, may re 
quire, tor younger students, some explanation; because it is possibly 
liable to be confounded with the more familiar popular use of the word. 
As a philosophical term it is not used in any invidious sense ; but merely 
to designate a system which makes Experience (iu.Keipia) the exclusive 



66 INTRODUCTION. 

aggerating the already partial a"nd defective, and therefore 
erroneous principles of the Empiricism of Locke, rejected 
reflection, or natural consciousness, as one of the sources of 
knowledge ; and analyzed all the phenomena of the mind, 
into forms of sensation. By the admirable logical precision, 
the clearness and perfect system which he gave to his 
analysis, he became the metaphysician and acknowledged 
chief of this new school ; while Helvetius, d Holbach, and 
others, carried it boldly out to the Materialism, Fatalism, 
and Atheism, which are its legitimate moral consequences. 
From that period, Sensualism, as a philosophical theory, 
maintained an almost exclusive predominance. Exceptions 
to this remark are scarcely to be met with ; and those that 
may be regarded as such, were merely the fragmentary 
outbreakings of a higher inspiration than Sensualism could 
supply, not the regular and scientific exposition of a better 
system. 

Sensualism was the reigning doctrine. All knowledge 
and truth were held to be derived from Experience ; and 
the domain of Experience was limited exclusively to Sensa 
tion. The influence of this doctrine extended throughout 
every department of intellectual activity art, morals, 
politics, and religion, no less than the physical and econom 
ical sciences. It became, according to Damiron, " a new 
faith, which was preached by the>/Yoso/>Aes, as its priests 
and doctors ; and, among all ranks, ai\d first, among the 
higher orders, including the clergy, it superseded the for- 

gource of knowledge. The fundamental principle of the system of 
Locke is that all human knowledge is derived from Experience. With 
Locke, Experience was twofold consisting of Sensation and Reflec 
tion. 

In like manner, Sensualism, in philosophical language, is taken in no 
bad signification. The French philosophers rejected Reflection as a 
source of knowledge, and analyzed all human ideas into sensation as 
their sole principle. Hence the terms Sensualism, and the Sensual 
School, to distinguish it from the Empiricism of Locke. 



JNTRODUCTION, 



67 



gotten or ill-taught doctrines of Christianity. It was in 
all books, in all conversations; and, as a decisive proof of 
its conquest and credit, passed into instruction, and for 
many years before the Revolution, it had taken every 
where, in the provinces as well as in Paris, the place of the 
old routine of education." * 

Subsequently, the exciting and terrific scenes of the 
Revolution occupied all minds; the speculations which 
had, in no small degree, prepared the way for those scenes, 
gave place to the absorbing interest of that period. Phi 
losophy, in its more extended sense, was abandoned ; all 
speculation was directed toward political theories, to the 
neglect of science, and even of public instruction ; and 
nothing was done in the cultivation of philosophy, until 
1795. 

At that time, the reign of violence began to give way 
to something like order and repose. With this return to 
comparative quiet, the philosophical spirit began to re 
awaken. It was natural, however, that this movement 
should recommence where it had been arrested namely, 
with Sensualism. 

The organization of the Institute by the Directory, con 
tributed to renew and extend the philosophy of Condillac, 
and to make it in some sort the doctrine of government, 
the philosophy of the state. During this period, we have 
several works produced in the spirit of the Sensual system 
among the most important of which may be named the 
Rapports du Physique et dn Moral of Cabanis, and the 
Ideology of M. Destutt de Tracy ; and by a strange fortune, 
the word Ideology became in France the distinctive appel 
lation of the doctrine of exclusive Sensualism. From thie 
time to the Consulate, we may trace a lively philosophical 
activity, though always in the direction of Sensualism. 
Hitherto, if any opposition to it had appeared, it was in 
direct and literary, rather than scientific. It may be found 
.* Damiron, Eistoire de la Philosophie en France aulSme sieck. 



68 INTRODUCTION. 

in writers of sentiment, such as St. Pierre, rather than in 
works of reflection. 

Thus, up to the time of the Empire, there was in strictness 
no philosophy opposed to the Sensual system. But from 
this period the tokens of a reaction become more distinct. 
Still, as is entirely natural, it manifested itself at first and 
most clearly in works of imagination and sentiment, in 
poetry and eloquence, rather than by scientific exposition. 

This reaction was favored by Napoleon, though not from 
any sympathy with the direction which the movement 
against Sensualism afterward displayed. From the cast 
of his mind and habits of education, and partly also from 
motives of policy, the Emperor had a strong dislike to all 
metaphysical and moral speculations, and did all in his 
power to discredit Ideology, which was then the exclusive 
form of speculation. When he reorganized the Institute, 
he excluded that class of studies ; and in every way en 
deavored to repress their pursuit, and to excite the cultiva 
tion of the mathematical and physical sciences. Thus, 
under the Empire, the philosophy of Condillac sensibly 
declined. It no longer produced important works ; its 
former authorities lost in credit ; and there was no longer 
the brilliant propagation of its doctrines which distin 
guished the preceding periods. 

There was still another cause of the decline of Sensual 
ism. It was in the character of several works written 
about this period, by writers avowedly belonging to the 
school of Condillac; but who, by the distinctions and 
modifications which they introduced, actually favored a 
contrary doctrine. Among the most important of these 
works, may be named the Lectures of M. Laromiguiere, 
By distinguishing between the idea and the sensation, he 
makes the latter the matter, and the first the form re 
ceived ; and, this form is given by the intellectual activity. 
This activity is therefore admitted as an original attribute 
of the mind, and a coordinate source of knowledge; which 



INTRODUCTION. 69 

is certainly contrary to the exclusive origin in sensation. 

Laromiguiere, therefore, comes much nearer in this respect, 
to Reid, and particularly to Kant, than to his master Con- 
dillac. 

A little subsequently to this time, we come to Royer* 
Cottard. Distinguished by eminent ability in. every de 
partment, this celebrated man appeared in open and sys 
tematic opposition to Sensualism. From 1811 to 1814, as 
the disciple and expounder of Reid, he advocated the 
doctrines of the Scottish philosopher, and annihilated the 
exclusive pretensions of the Sensual school to be the last 
word and the highest result of philosophy. The able 
translation of Reid s works, and of Stewart s Outlines of 
Moral Philosophy, by Jouffroy, contributed still further to 
extend the reaction against the system of Condillac. From 
the time when Royer-Collard commenced his lectures to 
the present day, and through the impulse which he im 
parted, philosophy has been cultivated with the most lively 
activity, by many of the finest spirits in France. Of these, 
some carrying the zeal they had imbibed from their master 
into a still more extended sphere, pursued their investiga 
tions into the modern German speculations, which had 
already attracted some attention, and exerted some in 
fluence, through the writings of Madam de Stael, the ex 
positions of Villiers, and others. 

The reign of Sensualism was thus at an end. It came to 
be looked upon with as great a degree of aversion and 
contempt, as it formerly enjoyed of credit and authority. 
Its few partisans were almost exclusively to be found 
among the naturalists and physicians. In the only im 
portant work which we have seen and the only one, we 
believe, recently written, in the interest of Materialism 
Sur l> Irritation et la Folie, by Broussais the author 
complains of the injustice and prejudice with which the 
once predominant doctrines of Sensualism were regarded. 
In truth, nearly all the names of eminence and celebrity 



70 INTRODUCTION. 

in every department of intellectual activity, are ranged on 
the side of a spiritual philosophy. Its influence pervades 
almost all the celebrated works that have appeared for 
forty years, in Art, in History, and in Literature generally. 

Among those who imbibed and have contributed to ex 
tend the spirit of this new activity in philosophy, there is 
no one who occupies so brilliant a position, or has exerted 
so great an influence as VICTOR COUSIN. This celebrated 
philosopher was born at Paris., November 28, 1792. He 
was educated at the Lycee Charlemagne, where he dis 
tinguished himself by his talents and by his industry. At 
this period, under the Empire, it was the policy of the 
government to attach to itself every sort of youthful talent 
by opening different careers in the service of the state to 
those who distinguished themselves in the colleges of Paris. 
Cousin having taken the highest prizes, entitled himself to 
exemption from the conscription and to the place of auditor 
to the Council of State, with a handsome salary. But an 
ardent love of study prevailed over every other considera 
tion, and led him to decline this opening to civil employ 
ments and honors. Through the influence of M. Gueroult, 
the translator of Pliny, and honorary counselor of the 
University, who had known him, and watched his course 
with friendly interest, he was decided to devote himself to 
the profession of public instruction. His name was accord 
ingly inscribed the first on the list of the pupils admitted 
at the Normal School, then organized under the direction 
of M. Gueroult. It was in 1810, at the age of eighteen, 
that Cousin entered the Normal School, which he never 
afterward quitted, and at the head of which he was placed, 
after the revolution of 1 830. After passing two years there 
as a pupil, he was appointed Instructor in Literature, at 
the close of the year 1812 ; and was made Master of the 
Conferences in 1814, in the place of M. Villemain. 

lie h;i:l not yet however found his true sphere, the proper 



INTRODUCTION. 71 

theater for his activity. He has himself described, in the 
preface to the second edition of his Philosophical ffiag- 
ments, the impressions made upon his mind, upon first en- 
tering the Normal School, by the lectures of M. Laromi- 
guiere, and shortly afterward, by those of M. Royer-Col- 
lard. From that moment he gave up his whole heart to 
philosophy. But his patron, M. Gueroult, the principal of 
the Normal School, entertained very different views for 
him, and after some fruitless struggles, M. Cousin found 
that his success as a teacher of literature, condemned him 
to that department of instruction. He remained, how 
ever, none the less warmly attached to his favorite science ; 
and at length all his wishes were crowned ; for when at 
the close of the year 1815, M. Royer-Collard was placed 
by the new government at the head of the University, he 
appointed Cousin to succeed himself as Professor of Phi 
losophy in the Faculty of Literature. 

Henceforth M. Cousin devoted himself entirely to phi 
losophy giving instruction both at the University and at 
the Normal School. For five years he bore the weight of 
this double duty. His lectures at the University gave a 
strong impulse to the public mind, and excited a more 
general taste for philosophical studies ; while his instruc 
tions at the Normal School formed that body of young 
ir?.en who have since so well and ably seconded his labors. 

In 1817 and 1818, he passed his vacations in traveling 
in Germany, for the purpose of studying the philosophy of 
that country. In 1820 he made a journey to the north of 
Italy, in order to collate the manuscripts of the Ambrosian 
Library and the Library of St. Mark, with reference to his 
projected edition of the unpublished works of Proclus. 
But on his return he found a great change in the condition 
of affairs in France. Royer-Collard w r as no longer at the 
head of the University ; he had been dismissed from the 
council of state, along with M. Guizot ; and an adverse in 
fluence had gained possession of the government and of 



72 INTRODUCTION. 

public instruction. Our young professor fell under the 
suspicion of liberalism in politics ; his course of lectures 
was suspended, and this suspension continued for seven 
years. In 1822 the Normal School was suppressed. Dur 
ing this long disgrace, M. Cousin, though deprived of all 
public employment, and without any private fortune, did 
not abandon his vocation as a philosopher. He had hith 
erto served the cause of philosophy by his teachings ; he 
DOW continued to serve it by his writings, which at the 
same time maintained and increased his reputation. 

In 1824, he traveled in Germany with the son of 
Marshall Lannes, the Duke of Montobello. Silenced in 
his own country by the ultra-royalists, his brilliant reputa 
tion, and his well-known liberal principles alarmed the 
Prussian government, which sent police officers into Saxony, 
and arrested him at Dresden. He was carried to Berlir... 
where Ii3 was kept in prison for several months. By the 
interposition of the celebrated Hegel, at that time Profess 
or of Philosophy and his personal friend, Cousin obtained 
his release. This kindness Cousin acknowledges with 
great warmth in his beautiful and elegant dedication to 
Hegel of the translation of the Gorgias. It turned out 
that his arrest was due to the intrigues of the French 
Jesuits. 

Upon his return to France, in 1825, he continued still 
out of favor with the government, and was not permitted 
to resume his lectures. But with the elections of 1827 
came the overthrow of the Villele administration ; and 
under the presidency of Royer-Collard and the ministry of 
M. de Martignac, Cousin, together with M. Guizot, w^as re 
established in his Chair in the Faculty of Literature. He 
re-appeared there and continued to lecture down to 1830 
with a brilliant success which has perhaps never been 
equaled at any period in the history of philosophical 
teaching. We must go back to the days of Abelard to 
find any thing like the numerous and enthusiastic body of 



INTRODUCTION. 73 

auditors that attended the courses of M. Cousin. The in 
struction, though so remarkable for splendor and brilliancy, 
was equally remarkable for moderation, in religion, in pol 
itics, in every thing. The lectures of Cousin, as well as 
those of his colleages Guizot and Villernain, were taken 
down by stenographers, printed, and circulated, almost as 
soon as they were delivered ; and in a few days after the 
two thousand auditors had heard them at the Sorbonne, 
the friends of philosophy from one end of France to the 
other received them, and might thus be said to have been 
present at the lectures of this illustrious triumvirate. 

At the Revolution of 1830, M.Cousin, with his high rep 
utation, his great talents as an orator, his character for 
energy, and the popularity he had gained in the Quartier 
Latin during the celebrated Three Days, might easily have 
secured a seat in the Chamber of Deputies, and entered 
upon a political career, as did his two colleagues M. Guizot 
and M. Villemain, and his friend M. Thiers. But Cousin 
declared his resolution to remain faithful to philosophy. 
" Politics," said he at that time, " are but an episode in my 
life ; the great current of my existence belongs to philoso 
phy." Accordingly the only change he was willing to 
yield to, was to pass, according to the strictest Ibrms of 
University promotion, from the Faculty of Literature to 
the Royal Council of Public Instruction, and to the prin 
cipal direction of the Normal School, which he re-estab 
lished and organized. In order to provide a place for M. 
Jouffroy, one of his most able pupils, he exchanged the 
Chair of the History of Modern Philosophy, for that of the 
History of Ancient Philosophy, of which lie continued the 
titular incumbent. He refused to accept any political 
office ; and although he had preserved the intimate con 
fidence of his old friends, who were now become powerful 
ministers, he adhered closely to the University, and de 
voted his active mind to the continuation of his philosoph 
ical publications which his lectures had suspended. 

4 



74 INTRODUCTION. 

But there is another career in which, after 1830, lie ac 
quired nearly as much reputation, and a still more undis 
puted popularity. We refer to his services in behalf of 
Education. 

The whole system of public instruction in France ia 
under the direction of the government, and all the dif 
ferent schools, from the lowest to the highest, compose, 
with the Ministry of Public Instruction, what is called the 
University of France. To enlarge the framework of the 
University, without deforming it, and to perfect the system 
in all its details, became the object of Cousin s earnest 
endeavors from the time when he became a member of the 
Council of Instruction. But he particularly occupied him 
self with two principal objects that were specially in 
trusted to him, the organization and direction of the 
Normal Schools, and the arrangement of the philosophical 
studies in the Faculties, and in the Royal, and Communal 
Colleges. Of the Normal School, he is the author of the 
present Constitution, as well as of its admirable plan of 
studies remarkable for extreme simplicity, and at the 
same time uniting the twofold excellence of being both 
systematic and practical. This plan of study, which may 
serve as a model for ah 1 Normal Schools, consists in divid 
ing the course into three years. The first year, the pupils 
are treated as young men just come from the colleges ; 
and the object is to go over, systematize, and perfect the 
instruction already received, without rising much above it. 
The second year, they are regarded as scholars, whose 
knowledge is to be enlarged and cultivated in every di 
rection, as if they were future candidates for the different 
academies of the Institute. The third year, the pupils are 
no longer treated as students come from the colleges whose 
course of study is to be reviewed, nor as men of letters in 
the general sense of the word, but as professors, who are 
to be instructed, not in the sciences, but in the art of 
teaching them. We have not space to explain the system 



INTRODUCTION. 5 

by which, in the course of three years, the peculiar talents 
and aptitudes of the pupils are brought out, by which their 
particular destination for the different departments of 
public instruction may be indicated. 

For the improvement of philosophical instruction, M. 
Cousin arranged a system no less perfect, the details 
of which could not here be easily explained. The result, 
however, has been that the methods of teaching philoso 
phy in the colleges have been greatly improved, and a new 
zeal in the study of it every where awakened. 

There is another department of public instruction, even 
more important perhaps, in which M. Cousin has rendered 
important public service, and acquired a still stronger claim 
to the gratitude of the country. We mean popular education. 

After organizing the Normal School, and the plan of in 
struction in philosophy, his attention was seriously taken 
up with primary instruction. In 1831, he solicited and 
received from the French government and from M. de 
Montalivet, then minister of Public Instruction, a special 
mission for examining the institutions for public instruc 
tion in Germany. He visited and inspected all the public 
establishments of Frankfort; of the Grand Duchy of 
Weimar ; of Saxony, particularly of Leipsic ; of Prussia, 
of Berlin especially. His report to the government made 
two quarto volumes. This report has excited the admira 
tion of accomplished teachers; has been translated into 
several languages ; and attracted general attention through 
out Europe. It was moreover the basis of the law passed 
in 1833, under the ministry of M. Guizot, and which M. 
Cousir brought forward in the Chamber of Peers. He 
then devoted himself to perfecting all the regulations and 
details which the passage of. that law rendered requisite. 
Besides his Report on Primary Instruction in Germany, he I 
gave, subsequently, a memior on the Secondary Instruction * 
of Prussia, which became the basis of a project for a law 
presented to the Chamber of Peers. 



76 INTRODUCTION. 

The eminent services of Cousin in the cause of truth and 
letters, had long pointed him out as a candidate for the 
French Academy; of which he was elected a member, 
after the death of M. Fourier. Subsequently he was 
chosen a member of the Academy of Moral and Political 
Sciences ; and here, in the philosophical section, he dis 
played his characteristic activity and zeal, in a variety of 
memoirs and reports. 

When the new law was passed, by which members of 
the Institute became eligible to the peerage, Cousin was 
among the first persons promoted by the king to that dig 
nity. He was made a peer of France, Oct. 1832, along 
with De Sacy, Thenard, and Villemain. But he rarely 
took any part in the discussions of that body except on 
some question relating to public instruction. 

In 1840 he was made Minister of Public Instruction. 
Being now at the head of this important department of 
the government, he was in a position to exert himself still 
more beneficially for the great interests to which his whole 
life had been devoted ; but, of the details of his labors I 
am not able to speak. From the time when he went out 
of office, he has, I believe, lived retired from public life, 
occupied in his favorite studies and in completing, revising, 
and perfecting his numerous works. 

The following is a list of Cousin s works according to the 
last revised and corrected edition of them : 

FIRST SERIES. HISTORY OF MODERN PHILOSOPHY, Lec 
tures from 1815 to 1821. 5 vols. 

SECOND SERIES. HISTORY OF MODERN PHILOSOPHY, 
Lectures from 1828 to 1830. 3 vols. 

THIRD SERIES. PHILOSOPHICAL FRAGMENTS, as a sequel 
to the Lectures on the History of Philosophy. 4 vols. To 
this third series is attached the FRAGMENT s ON THE CAR- 
TESi.iN PHILOSOPHY. 1 vol. 

FOURTH SERIES. LITERATURE. 3 vols. 1st. vol., Blaise 



INTRODUCTION. 7*? 

Pascal ; 2d. vol., Jacqueline Pascal ; 3d. vol., Literary Frag 
ments. 

FIFTH SERIES. PUBLIC INSTRUCTION. On Public In 
struction in Germany. 2 vols. On Public Instruction in 
Holland. 1 vol. On Public Instruction in France under 
the Government of July. 3 vols. 

SIXTH SERIES. POLITICAL DISCOURSES, with an Intro 
duction on the Principles of the French Revolution, and 
of Representative Government. 1 vol. 

EDITIONS AND TRANSLATIONS. Manual of the History 
of Philosophy, translated from the German of Tenneman. 
2 vols. 8vo. Complete Works of Plato. 13 vols. 8vo. 
Procli Opera inedita. 6 vols. 8vo. Abelarcli Opera. 2 vols. 
4to. The Unpublished Works of Abelard. 1 vol. 4to. 
Complete Works of Descartes. 11 vols. 8vo. Philosophi 
cal Works of P. Andre. 1 vol. 12mo. Philosophical Works 
of M. de Biran. 4 vols. 8vo. 

Of the philosophical system of M. Cousin a brief ez 
position was given in the introduction to the first edition 
of this work, which is rendered unnecessary by the plan 
of the present edition. In place of it, I have preferred i,o 
let the author speak in his own words in the additional 
pieces which follow the critical examination of Locke, and 
which, besides elucidating his general system, contain also 
a fuller explanation of some points treated in the examina 
tion, and give his systematic determination of several of 
the most important questions in philosophy. Every thing 
therefore, that is necessary to an accurate comprehension 
of his system, especially in all that is peculiar to it, may be 
easily gathered from this volume. If it is not unfolded 
precisely in the order and with the duly proportioned 
development of a regular treatise, yet all its leading ideas, 
its constituent principles and their connection and co 
ordination into a systematic whole, may be seen with suf- 



73 INTRODUCTION. 

ficient clearness to render an extended exposition needless. 
I shall therefore confine myself here to a few general ob 
servations which I think important to be borne in mind. 

In the first place, there is a misconception of the nature 
of Cousin s philosophy to be guarded against, which might 
at first thought connect itself with the term eclecticism 
commonly applied to it. On the one hand it should not be 
confounded in advance with the Alexandrian school which, 
though professing the principle of eclecticism, belongs to 
the class of systems denominated by Cousin, the mystical ; 
nor, on the other hand, should it be conceived as the ab 
sence of system, or the gross mixture of all systems, the 
impossible project of bringing together all doctrines, all 
opinions, which can only result in the confusion of incon 
sistent principles without scientific unity and connection. 
Nor, again, is it the arbitrary selecting and combining of 
doctrines and notions on the grounds of taste and prefer 
ence. 

On the contrary, eclecticism, as Cousin holds it, supposes 
a system, sets out with a system, and applies a system. It 
cakes a system as the criterion of the truth or falsehood of 
?11 actual systems which it subjects to historical and critical 
analy3is. 

This system is properly called Rational Psychology: 
psychology, because although psychology is not the whole 
01 philosophy, it is its foundation, the point from which it 
sets out, and the principle which contains in itself the 
whole of philosophy ; rational, because in the psychological 
analysis of the facts of consciousness, not only is the sensi 
bility found with its sensations individual, contingent, vari 
able, but also reason, and, in the psychological analysis of 
reason, rational principles which to the view of reflection 
are marked with the character of universal and necessary 
convictions of the human mind, and which impose them 
selves upon the intelligence not merely as necessary forms 
of thought, but also as absolute truths, truths in themselves 



INTRODUCTION. 79 

independent of our intelligence, and so legitimately con 
duct us to a sphere of reality lying beyond ourselves. 
Rational Psychology, therefore, contains not only psychol 
ogy proper, but also ontology, and logic which explains 
and justifies the passage from psychology to ontology ; it 
contains in short, the whole of philosophy. 

Now it is in relation to the application of Rational Psy 
chology to the history of philosophy, that Cousin denomin 
ates his system eclecticism. Eclecticism is a method rather 
than a system : it is the method by which a system is 
applied to the criticism of all other systems. It goes upon 
the ground that a truly complete and correct system of 
philosophy will explain the whole history of philosophy, 
and will be itself justified by the history of philosophy. 
For, all the great systems that have appeared in history, 
however subversive of each other, contain each some por 
tion of truth, and consequently something in common with 
the comprehensive system by which they are judged. Ec- 
ecticism is therefore a method both philosophical and 
Historical. Rational Psychology at once explains and is 
verified by the history of philosophy. Three things are 
accordingly to be distinguished in electicism : its starting- 
point, its processes, and its end ; or, in other words, its 
principle, its instruments, and its results. It supposes a 
system as its starting-point and clew through the labyrinth 
of history, its instrument is a rigid criticism sustained on 
solid and extensive erudition ; its primary result is the de 
composition of all systems ; and its final result the recon 
struction from their materials of a new system which shal] 
be a complete representation of human consciousness as 
unfolded in history, and, at the same time correspond to 
the results of rational psychology.* 

* If Dr. Hickok (in his Rational Psychology, p. 71), means to charac 
terize Cousin s eclecticism as an " arbitrary patchwork" and an " ar 
rogant plundering" of other systems without any " law of constructing," 
he has totally misconceived Cousin s views, and that, for such a man ac 



80 INTRODUCTION. 

A few remarks in the next place may be made in regard 
to the distinguishing peculiarity of Cousin s system : for in 
a general view it presents but one point by which it is 
specially distinguished from all other systems. 

In adopting the method of internal observation and in 
making psychology the basis of all philosophy Cousin 
agrees with Locke, and the Sensualistic School, with Reid 
and the Scottish School and with Kant, and differs from 
{Schelling and the later Germans ; but in refusing to limit 
philosophy within the sphere of psychology and in contend 
ing for a philosophy of the absolute and infinite, he differs 
from Locke, Reid and Kant, and agrees with Schelling. 
But while he agrees with Schelling in making the absolute 
and infinite a positive in knowledge, he differs fundament 
ally from him in the mode of attaining it. Cousin finds it 
in consciousness ; Schelling in a faculty transcending con 
sciousness; Cousin in spontaneous reason; Schelling in 
intellectual intuition, which being, according to his de 
termination, a faculty out of consciousness, is a pure hy 
pothesis. 

The fundamental peculiarity therefore of the system of 
Cousin consists not merely in making the absolute and in 
finite a matter of positive cognition, but in holding the two 
fold distinction of reason into spontaneous and reflective, 
and making the former, as impersonal and therefore not 

Dr. Hickok, is explicable only by supposing he did not give himself time 
to ascertain them. He may be well assured that Cousin would agree 
w ith him as to every one of the conditions demanded for a legitimate 
eclecticism. It is not absolutely clear from his way of expressing him-" 
self, whether Dr. Hickok thought otherwise, whether he intended by his 
remarks to characterize Cousin s eclecticism, or such a process of arbi 
trary picking and choosing as the word might naturally seem to imply. 
As to the other point on which he expresses a decided opinion, namely 
Cousin s view of the necessity of creation and the consequences it in 
volves, I have need here only to observe that Dr. Hickok entirely mis 
takes the sense in which the word necessity is used by Cousin, and that 
ft entails neither fatalism nor pantheism. 



INTKODUCT1ON. 81 

subjective, the faculty of immediately knowing the absolute 
and infinite. The spontaneous reason apprehends the 
absolute and infinite by an act of positive cognition ; it re 
veals them in consciousness without thereby making them 
merely subjective. 

Now this is undoubtedly the great problem of speculative 
inquiry, the problem of problems in philosophy, namely : 
whether there can be any objective knowledge of the un 
conditioned ; or, in other words : whether philosophy is 
possible considered as any thing more than the observation 
and analysis of the phenomena of consciousness. The ob 
jective reality of the infinite and absolute may, however, 
be admitted on either ground. Reid and Kant admit the 
existence of God on the ground of the necessary convic 
tions of the reason (we need not here advert to the dif 
ferences in their modes of arriving at their result) ; Cousin 
admits the Divine existence on the ground of positive 
knowledge. The former attain to God by Faith ; Cousin 
by Cognition. Reid says : I believe in God because the 
necessary laws of thought oblige me to believe in wh.it I 
can not know ; Cousin says I believe in God, as I do in 
juiy own soul, because I know the former as well as the 
latter in that primitive, unreflective synthesis of thought 
that natural realism in which quality and substance, the 
finite and the infinite are both at once given as cognizable 
objects, cognizable under conditions which subsequent re 
flection indeed recognizes as necessary laws of thought. 

Now, all this in a practical point of view, maybe con 
sidered as amounting to the unimportant verbal question, 
whether our conviction of the Divine existence be a belief 
or a knowledge. But in a speculative point of view, with 
reference to a theoretical system and to the question how 
far philosophy can go, the difference is very material. On 
this question great men and profound thinkers have dif 
fered, and will probably continue to differ perhaps to the 
end of time ; perhaps not. Meantime, whatever may be 



82 INTRODUCTION. 

thought of Cousin s doctrine on this question, a high in 
terest attaches to his labors as an expounder of the history 
of philosophy. His profound and accurate acquaintance 
with the whole range of philosophical learning, his exact 
and just comprehension of philosophical doctrines and 
systems, and his lucid and faithful exposition of them, will 
certainly be appreciated by all competent judges. In gene 
ral critical ability and particularly in the talent for analysis, 
be has few equals and no superior.* 

We now give some account of the course of lectures on 
the History of Philosophy in the Eighteenth Century, of 
which this volume contains a part. It must, however, be 
limited to the briefest indications. 

Having, in his Introduction to the History of Philoso 
phy, explained the scope and method, the system and 
general spirit of his instruction, M. Cousin proceeds, in 
the lectures on the philosophy of the eighteenth century, to 
elucidate, extend, and confirm the historical principles be 
fore developed, by applying them to the eighteenth cen 
tury. It is his principle, that the philosophy of an age 
proce ^ds from all tte elements <-? which the age is com 
posed ; hence the necessity of studying the philosophy 01 
the eighteenth century, first in the general history of that 
period. 

The general character of the eighteenth century resem 
bles that of the two preceding centuries, inasmuch as it 

* On this question concerning the absolute, I am bound to refer the 
reader to ah extended refutation of the doctrine of Cousin attempted by 
Sir William Hamilton, originally published in -the Ediriburg Review, 
1829, and contained in his Discussions on Philosophy, etc., Lond. 1852, 
p. 1 ; and also to be found in the American reprint, edited by Mr. Wight, 
under the title of "Philosophy of Sir William Hamilton," New York, 
1855, p. 441. A noble production by a worthy antagonist of Cousin 
worthy to be his antagonist by his wonderful learning, his prodigious 
speculative power, and above all, by his ability to respect and admire 
an opponent equal to that which distinguishes Cousin himself. 



INTRODUCTION. 83 

continues the characteristic movement of that period ; it 
differs from it, only as it develops that movement on a 
larger scale. The middle ages was the reign of authority 
every thing was fixed and controlled ; the sixteenth and 
seventeenth centuries commenced a new movement, in the 
spirit of independence ; it was the age of conflict and rev 
olution. The sixteenth and seventeenth centuries under- 
mined and shook the middle ages. The mission of the 
eighteenth century was to continue and complete that 
movement to overthrow and put an end to the middle 
ages. 

This mission determines the general spirit of the eight 
eenth century. This spirit is displayed in all the great 
manifestations of the age political moral religious-- 
literary and scientific. In all these respects, there is a 
diminution of the powers and influences which predominat 
ed in the middle ages, and, finally, the extension and pre 
dominance of new and unknown powers and influences. 
The spirit of the eighteenth century is a spirit of inde 
pendence, of scrutiny, of analysis, in regard to all things. 
This movement began obscurely, and proceeded with a 
comparatively slow and latent progress at first, but with a 
constantly accelerating march toward the close of the 
period. 

The general character of the philosophy of the eighteenth 
century is determined by the general character of the 
period. The philosophy of this epoch likewise continues, 
develops, and completes the philosophical movement of the 
former period. This movement was in the reaction against 
the spirit of authority in philosophy which predominated 
in the middle ages. This reaction which began in the 
sixteenth century, by the springing up of the spirit of in 
dependence : and which continued with increasing strength 
during the seventeenth gains the victory in the eight 
eenth ; completes and puts an end to the middle ages iu 
the matter of philosophy. The sixteenth century was, to 



Si INTRODUCTION. 

this philosophical revolution, what the fifteenth was to the 
religious reformation a period of necessary preparation, 
filled with struggles, and often with unsuccessful struggles, 
against the predominant spirit of authority ; and, like that, 
it had its martyrs. Bruno and Vanini were the Huss and 
Jerome of this philosophical revolution. The sixteenth 
century was a blind attack upon the principle of authority,* 
as it existed in the Scholastic philosophy. The seventeenth 
century renewed the conflict, established the revolution, 
and destroyed Scholasticism. The mission of the eight 
eenth century was to continue and consummate this revo 
lution, by overthrowing the general sprit of authority in 
philosophy, and establishing the general spirit of inde 
pendence. In fact it generalized the conflict of the pre 
ceding period ; propagated the spirit of independence in 
every direction of thinking ; and, finally, established phi 
losophy as a distinct and independent power. 

Thus the general mission of the eighteenth century was 
to continue and complete the movement of independence, 
begun in the two preceding centuries ; and to put a final 
end to the middle ages in every thing politics, life, art, 
and science. 

And analogous to this, the special mission of philosophy 
m the same century, was to complete the movement before 
begun therein, to put an end to the middle ages in regard 
to philosophy, by destroying, in this respect, the principle 
of authority, and circumscribing it within its proper limits, 
those of theology. 

Now this was a complex and laborious task, mixed with 
results of good and of evil. The reaction against authority 
might go too far ; freedom is liable to be pushed to licen 
tiousness ; and while the object is to reduce religious au 
thority within its legitimate sphere, namely, theology, 
theology itself may be attacked. Instances of this occur 
in the philosophy of the eighteenth century ; still, a large 
share of the most illustrious names are no less distinguished 



INTRODUCTION. 85 

for a profound submission and respect to religion, than by 
the spirit of independence in regard to philosophy. 

Next comes the consideration of the Method of philoso 
phy in the eighteenth century. The middle ages was the 
reign of Hypothesis. The sixteenth century was a sort of 
insurrection of the new spirit against the old, and could 
not organize itself and take the form and consistence of an 
established Method. But in the seventeenth century, the 
Irue Method began to be formed under Bacon and Des 
cartes ; though in the latter it ran out at last into hypo 
thesis. In the eighteenth century, the question concerning 
Method became the "fundamental question. In this century 
was completed the triumph of the method of experiment 
over hypothesis ; its triumph, that is, in regard to its prin 
ciple, namely, analysis. Analysis waa generalized, extended 
every where, and established as an exclusive power in phi 
losophy. The triumph of analysis has likewise its part of 
good and its part of evil. Its good is found in the destruc 
tion of hypothesis, and of false synthesis, and in a vast 
collection of accurate experiments and observations. Its 
evil is found in the neglect of synthesis, which is, equally 
with analysis, an element of the true experimental method. 

Then follows a view of the different systems of philoso 
phy embraced in the eighteenth century. These systems 
are the same as those of the two preceding centuries; 
neither more nor less. The only difference is, that the 
philosophy of the eighteenth century develops these sys 
tems in grander proportions, and on a larger scale. They 
are the same systems, moreover, which are to be found 
in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries in the middle 
ages in Greece in the East. The reason is, that all these 
systems have their root in human nature, independent of 
particular times and places. The human mind is the 
original, of which philosophy is the representation, more 
or less exact and complete. We are therefore to seek 
from the human mind the explanation of the different sys- 



86 INTRODUCTION. 

terns, which, born of philosophy, share all its changes, its 
progress, and its perfectionment ; which starting up in 
the East, in the cradle of humanity, after traversing the 
globe, and successively appearing in Greece, in the middle 
ages, in the modern philosophy commencing with the 
sixteenth century have met together in Europe in the 
eighteenth century, 

The result of this examination gives as a matter of fact 
in the history of philosophy, four great schools or systems 
of philosophy, which comprehend all the attempts of the 
philosophical spirit, and which are found in every epoch of 
the world. These systems are Sensualism, Idealism, 
Skepticism, and Mysticism. 

Sensualism takes sensation as the sole principle of knowl 
edge. Its pretension is that there is not a single element 
in the consciousness which is not explicable by sensation. 
This exclusive pretension is its error. A part of our knowl 
edge can be explained by sensation ; but another part, and 
that a very important part, can not. Its necessary conse 
quences are fatalism, materialism, and atheism. 

On the other hand, Idealism, as an exclusive system, 
takes its point of departure from the reason or intelligence, 
from the ideas or laws which govern its activity ; but in 
stead of contenting itself with denying the exclusive pre 
tension of Sensualism, and assertaining the origin of an im 
portant part of our knowledge in the reason, and thus 
vindicating the truths destroyed by Sensualism it finds 
all reality in the mind alone ; denies matter ; absorbs 
all things, God and the universe, into individual conscious 
ness, and that into thought; just as, by a contrary error, 
Sensualism absorbs consciousness and all things into sensa 
tion. Sensualism and Idealism are two dogmatisms equally 
true in one view, equally false in another ; and both result 
in nearly equal extravagances. 

Skepticism, in its first form, is* the appearance of com- 
mon sense on the scene of philosophy. Disgusted with the 



INTRODUCTION. 87 

extravagances of the two exclusive systems, which mutually 
conflict and destroy each other, reflection proceeds to ex 
amine the bases, the processes and results of those systems ; 
and it easily and undeniedly demonstrates that in all these 
respects, there is much error in both the systems. But in 
its weakness, it falls likewise into exclusiveness and exag 
geration ; and finally declares that every system is false, 
and that there is no such thing as truth and certainty 
within the grasp of the mind. Thus skepticism results in 
equal extravagance. Its distinctive position, that there is 
no truth, no certainty, is the absurd and suicidal dogmat 
ism : It is certain that there is no certainty. 

The fourth system is Mysticism, The word is not used 
vaguely, but in a precise sense ; and designates the prin 
ciple of a distinct philosophical system. The human mind, 
indeed, when tossed about amid conflicting, systems, and 
distressed by the sense of inability to decide for itself, yet 
feeling the inward want of faith a spirit the reverse of the 
dogmatic and scornful skepticism, may despair of philoso 
phy, renounce reflection, and take refuge within the circle 
of theology. This is doubtless often the fact, though there 
is, in the opinion of Cousin, an obvious inconsistency in it ; 
for it takes for granted that the objections which Skepti 
cism brings against every system, and which the mind can 
not refute, are not as valid against a religious as a philosoph 
ical system. The renunciation of reflection is not, how 
ever, what Cousin means by Mysticism. It is reflection it 
self building its system on an element of consciousness 
overlooked by Sensualism, and by Idealism, and by Skep 
ticism. This element is spontaneity, which is the basis of 
reflection. Spontaneity is the element of faith, of religion. 
Reflection effects a sort of philosophical compromise be 
tween religion and philosophy, by falling back and ground 
ing itself upon that fact, anterior to itself, which is the 
point where religion and philosophy meet the fact of 
spontaneity. This fact is primitive, unreflective, accom- 



88 INTRODUCTION. 

panied by a lively faith, and is exalting in its influence. It 
is reason, referred to its eternal principle, and speaking 
with his authority in the human intelligence. It is on this 
element of truth that Mysticism reposes. But this system, 
like the others in the exaggeration of its principles and in 
its neglect of the other elements of human nature, engend 
ers multiplied extravagances ; the delusions of the imagina 
tion, and nervous sensibility, taken for revelations, neglect 
of outward reality, visions, theurgy, etc. 

These systems all have their utility ; positively, in de 
veloping respectively some element of intelligence ; and in 
cultivating some part of human nature and of science ; 
negatively, in limiting each other ; in combatting each 
other s errors; and in repressing each other s extrava 
gances. 

As to the intrinsic merit, it is a favorite position with 
Cousin : They exist ; therefore there is a reason for their 
existence ; therefore they are true, in whole or in part. 
-Srror is the law of our nature ; but not absolute error. Ab- 
colute error is unintelligible, inadmissible, impossible. It 
is not the error that the human mind believes ; it is only 
iri virtue o." the truths blended with it that error is ad 
mitted. Tnese four systems are, respectively, partly true, 
and partly false. The eclectic spirit is not absolutely to 
reject any one of them, nor to become the dupe of any one 
of them ; but by a discriminating criticism, to discern and 
fccoept the truth in each. This is the scope and attempt 
of M. Cousin s historical and critical labors. 

These four systems are the fundamental elements of all 

philosophy, and consequently of the history of philosophy. 

t They are not only found in the eighteenth century, but 

they exist and re-appear successively in every great epoch 

of the history of man. Previously, therefore, to entering 

upon the examinations of these systems as they exist in the 

eighteenth century Cousin reviews their respective an- 

tecedents in the East, in Greece, in the middle age and in 



INTRODUCTION. 89 

the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. He traces and 
develops the Sensual, the Ideal, the Skeptical and the 
Mystical Schools, in each of those periods. The principal 
portion of his first volume is occupied with this review. 
Our limits forbid us to follow him. It can only be re 
marked, that along with the other schools, he finds also 
the Sensual school. He finds it with all its distinctive 
traits in the philosophy of India ; traces it through the 
twelve centuries filled by Grecian philosophy, from its 
commencement in the Ionian School, to Aristotle and the 
Peripatetics ; thence to its re-appearance in the middle 
age, involved in the scholastic Nominalism of Occam ; 
thence to its more decided announcement in Pomponatius, 
Telesio, and Campanella, in the fifteenth and sixteenth 
centuries ; and finally in modern philosophy, in Hobbes, 
Gassencli, and others, the immediate predecessors of Locke. 
He then comes to a detailed examination of Locke as the 
true father of the Sensual school in the eighteenth century 
and of the various Sensual systems included in it. In this 
examination of the Essay on the Understanding, he sig 
nalizes the general spirit and the method of that work ; he 
exhibits its systematic principle, its applications, and all its 
consequences, explict or involved. He carefully discrimin 
ates its part of truth from its part of error ; and if his 
conclusions result in the overthrow of the exclusive and 
systematic principles and principal positions of Locke s 
work, it is because his analysis led him to this. Of the 
truth and exactness of this analysis, the reader will judge, 

C. S. H. 



CRITICAL EXAMINATION 



OF 



POKE S ESSAY ON THE HUMAN UNDERSTANDING, 



CHAPTER I. 

GENERAL SPIRIT AND METHOD OP LOCKE S ESSAY. 

General spirit of the Essay on the Human Understanding. Its Method. 
Study of the Human Understanding itself, as the necessary intro 
duction to all true philosophy. Study of the Human Understanding 
in its action, in its phenomena, or ideas. Division of the inquiries re 
lating to ideas, and determination of the order in which those investi 
gations should be made. To postpone the logical and ontological 
question concerning the truth or falsity of ideas, and the legitimacy 
of their application to their respective objects; and to concentrate 
our investigations upon the study of ideas in themselves, and in 
that, to begin by describing ideas as they actually are, and then to 
proceed to the investigation of their origin. Examination of the 
Method of Locke. Its merit : he postpones and places last the ques 
tion of the truth or falsity of ideas. Its fault: he entirely neglects 
the question concerning the actual character of ideas, and begins with 
that of their origin. First mistake of Method ; chances of error which 
it involves. General tendency of the School of Locke. Recapitula 
tion. 

THE first question which arises in examining the Essay 
on the Human Understanding respects the authority upon 
which it relies in the last analysis. Does the author seek|< 
for truth at his own risk, by the force of reason alone ; or., 
does he recognize a foreign and superior authority to] 
which he submits, and from which he borrows the ground] 
of his judgments ? This is indeed, as you know, the ques- 
tion which it is necessary to put at the outset to every 
philosophical work, in order to determine its most general 
character, and its place in the history of philosophy, and 
even of civilization. A single glance is enough to show 



94 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

that Locke is a free seeker of truth. Every where he ap 
peals to the reason. He starts from this authority, and from 
this alone ; and if he subsequently admits another, it is 
because he arrived at it by reason ; so that it is the reason 
which governs him, and, as it were, holds the reins of his 
mind. Locke belongs then to the great family of inde 
pendent philosophers. The Essay on the Human Under 
standing is a fruit of the movement of independence in the 
eighteenth century, and it has sustained and redoubled that 
movement. This character passed from the master to his 
whole school v and was thus recommended to all the friends 
of human reason. I should add that in Locke, independ 
ence is always united with a sincere and profound respect 
for every thing worthy of respect. Locke is a philosopher, 
and he is at the same a Christian. Such is the chief. As 
to his school, you know what it has been. Its independ 
ence passed rapidly into indifference, and from indif 
ference to hostility. I mention all this, because it is 
important you should always hold in your hand the thread 
of the movement and progress of the sensual school. 

I now pass to the question which comes next after that 
concerning the general spirit of every philosophical work, 
namely, the question of Method. You know the import 
ance of this question. It ought by this time to be very 
obvious to you, that as is the method of a philosophy, so 
will be its system, and that the adoption of a method de 
cides the destinies of a philosophy. Hence our strict 
obligation to insist on the method of Locke with all the 
care of which we are capable. What then is that method 
which, in its germ, contains the whole system of Locke 
the system that has produced the great Sensual school 
of the eighteenth century ? We will let Locke speak for 
himself. In his preface he expresses himself thus : 

" Were it fit to trouble thee with the history of this 
Essay, I should tell thee, that five or six friends, meeting 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 95 

in my chamber, and discoursing on a subject very remote 
from this, found themselves quickly at a stand, by the dif 
ficulties that arose on every side. After we had awhile 
puzzled ourselves without coming any nearer a resolution 
of those doubts which perplexed us, it came into my 
thoughts that we took a wrong course ; and that before 
we set ourselves upon inquiries of that nature, it was. 
necessary to examine our own abilities, and see what ob-j 
jects our understandings were or were not, fitted to deal 
with. This I proposed to the company, who all readily 
assented ; and thereupon it was agreed that this should be 
our first inquiry. Some hasty and undige*sted thoughts 
on a subject I had never before considered, which I set 
down against our next meeting, gave the first entrance 
into this discourse ; which having been thus begun by 
chance, was continued by entreaty ; written by incoherent 
parcels ; and after long intervals of neglect, resumed again, 
as my humor or occasions permitted ; and at last, in a re 
tirement, where an attendance on my health gave me 
leisure, it was brought into that order thou now seest it." 

He returns to the same thought in the Introduction 
which follows the preface : 

B. I. Ch. I. 2. " I shall not at present meddle with 
the physical consideration of the mind, or trouble myself 
to examine wherein its essence consists, or by what mo 
tions of our spirits, or alterations of our bodies, we come 
to have any sensations by our organs, or any ideas in our 
understandings ; and whether those ideas do, in their form 
ation, any or all of them, depend on matter or no. These 
are speculations, which, however curious and entertain 
ing, I shall decline, as lying out of my way, in the design 
I am now upon. It shall suffice to my present purpose,* 
to consider the discerning faculties of a man, as they are] 
employed about the objects which they have to do with. y 



96 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



Locke is persuaded that this is the only way to repress 
the rashness of philosophy, and at the same time to en 
courage useful investigations : 

B. I. Ch. I. 4. " If, by this inquiry into the nature of 
the understanding, I can discover the powers thereof, how 
far they reach, to what things they are in any degree pro 
portionate, and where they fail us, I suppose it may be of 
use to prevail with the busy mind of man, to be more 
cautious in meddling with things exceeding its comprehen 
sion ; and to stop when it is at the utmost extent of its 
tether ; and to sit down in a quiet ignorance of those 
things, which, upon examination, are found to be beyond 
the reach of our capacities. We should not then perhaps 
be so forward, out of an affectation of an universal knowl 
edge, to raise questions and perplex ourselves and others 
about things to which our understandings are not suited, 
and of which we can not form in our minds any clear and 
distinct perceptions, or w^hereof (as it has perhaps too often 
happened) we have not any notions at all. If we can find 
out how far the understanding can extend its view, how 
far it has faculties to attain certainty, and in what cases it 
can only judge and guess, we may learn to content our 
selves with what is attainable by us in this state." 

6. " When we know our own strength, we shall the 
better know what to undertake with hopes of success: 
and when we have well surveyed the .powers of our own 
minds, and made some estimate what we may expect from 
them, we shall not be inclined either to sit still and noi set 
our thoughts on work at all, in despair of knowing any 
thing ; or, on the other side, question every tiling, and 
disclaim all knowledge, because some things are not to be 
understood." 

And again in the same section : 

" It is of great use to the sailor, to know the length of 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 97 

his line, though he can not with it fathom all the depths 
of the ocean. It is well he knows that it is long enough 
to reach the bottom at such places as are necessary to 
direct his voyage, and caution him against running upon 
shoals that may ruin him." 

I will add but one more quotation : 

7. " This was that which gave the first rise to this 
Essay concerning the understanding. For I thought that 
the first step toward satisfying several inquiries the mind 
of man was very apt to run into, was to take a survey of j 
our own understandings, examine our own powers, and j 
see to what things they were adapted. Till that was done, ! 
I suspected we began at the wrong end . . . . " 

I have brought together all these citations on purpose to 
convince you that they contain not merely a fugitive view, 
but a fixed rule a Method. Now this method, in my 
judgment, is the true method, the same which at this day 
constitutes the power and the hope of science. Let me 
present it in somewhat more modern language. 

Whatever be the object of knowledge or of inquiry, Goc 
or the world, things the most remote or near, you neither 
know nor can know them but under one condition, namely 
that you have the faculty of knowledge in general ; and you 
neither possess nor can attain a knowledge of them except 
in proportion to your general faculty of knowledge. What 
ever you attain a knowledge of, the highest or lowest thing, 
your knowledge in the last result rests upon the reach and 
the validity of that faculty, by whatever name you call it 
Spirit, Reason, Mind, Intelligence, Understanding. Locke 
calls it Understanding. A sound philosophy, instead of bo- 
ginning with a blind and random application of the under 
standing, ought first to examine that faculty, to investigate 
its nature and its capacity; otherwise there will be a lia- 

5 



98 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

bility to endless aberrations and mistakes. The study of 
the understanding is then pre-eminently the philosophical 
study. There is no part of philosophy which does not pre 
suppose it, and borrow its light from it. Take, for example, 
Logic, or the science of the rules which ought to direct the 
human mind what would it be without a knowledge of 
that which it is the object to direct, the human mind itself? 
So also of Morals, the science of the principles and rules 
of action what could that be without a knowledge of the 
subject of morality, the moral agent, man himself? Poli 
tics, the science or the art of the government of social man, 
rests equally on a knowledge of man whom, in his social 
nature, society may develop, but can not constitute. JEs- 
thetics, the science of the Beautiful, and the theory of the 
Arts, has its root in the nature of a being made capable 
to recognize and reproduce the beautiful, to feel the par 
ticular emotions which attest its presence, and to awaken 
those emotions in other minds. So also if man were not 
a religious being, if none of his faculties reached beyond 
the finite and bounded sphere of this world, there would 
be for him no God. God exists for man, only in propor 
tion to his faculties ; and the examination of those facul 
ties and of their capacity, is the indispensable condition of 
every sound Theodicy. In a word, the nature of man is 
implied in every science, however apparently foreign. The__ 
study of man is then the necessary introduction to every 
science ; and this study, call it Psychology, or by any other 
name, though it certainly is not the whole of philosophy, 
must be allowed to be its foundation and its starting-point. 
But is a knowledge of human nature, is psychology 
possible? Without doubt it is; for consciousness is a wit 
ness which gives us information of every thing that takes 
plnoe in the interior of our minds. It is not the principle 
of any of our faculties, but is a light to them all. It is 
ii >t because we have the consciousness of it, that anything 
goes on within us; but that which does go on within us, 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 99 

would be to us as though it did not take place, if it were 
not attested by consciousness. It is not by consciousness 
that we feel, or will, or think; but it is by it we know 
that we do all this. The authority of consciousness is the 
ultimate authority into which that of all the other faculties 
is resolvable, in this sense, namely, that if the former be 
overthrown, as it is thereby that the action of all the 
others, even that of the faculty of knowing itself, comes 
to be known, their authority, without being in itself de 
stroyed, would yet be nothing for us. Thus it is impossible 
for any person not to rely fully upon his own consciousness. 
At this point, skepticism itself expires; for, as Descartes 
says, let a man doubt of every thing else, he can not doubt 
that he doubts. Consciousness, then, is an unquestionable 
authority; its testimony is infallible, and no individual is 
destitute of it. Consciousness is indeed more or less dis 
tinct, more or less vivid, but it is in all men. No one is 
unknown to himself, although very few know themselves 
perfectly, because all or nearly all make use of conscious 
ness without applying themselves to perfect, unfold, arid 
enlarge it, by voluntary effort and attention. In all men, 
consciousness is a natural process; some elevate this nat 
ural process to the degree of an art, of a method, by re 
flection, which is a sort of second consciousness, a free 
reproduction of the first ; and as consciousness gives to all 
men a knowledge of what passes within them, so reflection 
gives the philosopher a certain knowledge of every tiling 
which falls under the eye of consciousness. It is to be 
observed that the question here is not concerning hypo 
theses or conjectures; for it is not even a question con 
cerning a process of reasoning. It is solely a question of 
facts, and of facts that are equally capable of being ob 
served as those which come to pass on the scene of the 
outward world. The only difference is, the one are ex 
terior, the other interior ; and as the natural action of our 
faculties carries us outward, it is more eusv to observe the 



100 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

one than the other. Bat with a little attention, voluntary 
exertion, and practice, one may succeed in internal observ 
ation as well as in external. And finally, even if psy 
chology were really more difficult than physics, yet in its 
nature, the former is, equally with the latter, a science of 
observation, and consequently it has the same title and the 
same right to the rank of a positive science.* 

* [ Consciousness. This is a brief but sufficient demonstration of the 
possibility and validity of psychology. Before proceeding, however, to 
the next topic the objects of psychology it may be well for the stu 
dent to reflect a little further upon the nature of consciousness. 

The fact of consciousness is the condition of all knowledge and all 
philosophy. It is " the light of all our seeing." The various definitions 
which have been given of this word by different writers, and the vague 
ness with which it has been used, appear to result from the difficulty 
of distinguishing the different elements which, in their inseparable and 
blended action, make up the complex whole of intellectual reality and 
life ; or rather, in which variety the unity of intellectual life manifests 
itself. It is difficult to see the distinct in the inseparable ; to see a part 
in a whole, without confounding it with the whole. It is difficult, on 
the other hand, to distinguish without separating and destroying. And 
again, where any one element is present, and inseparably connected 
with each and all the other elements of a complex whole, there is great 
danger of confounding it with some one or other of those elements, 
apart from which it is never found, while yet it is distinct from each 
and all of them. This is the case with regard to consciousness. It is 
not the mind itself, but the light in which all the phenomena of the 
mind are reflected to itself. We know ourselves and every thing that 
wo know, only in the light of consciousness. We find ourselves and all 
things in consciousness. It is the light in which we see all things, yet 
it is not the seeing itself. It reveals to the mind its various modifica 
tions, its feelings, sensations, thoughts and volitions; yet, though con 
nected with them, it is distinct from them all. It is neither a pure 
passivity nor a voluntary activity, though it may appear on both hands 
to partake of the nature of the modifications of which it informs us. It 
is a spontaneity, a fact. It is neither a machine nor an agent. It is 
not a product of the mind, nor an effect of the will. Thought and voli 
tion are produced ; but consciousness is a witness of our thoughts and 
volitions ; though the most eminent fact of consciousness self-affirma 
tion may indeed be conditioned by an act of the will ; yet this reflective 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 101 

But we must recognize the proper objects of psychology. 
They are those of reflection, which again are those of con 
sciousness. Now it is evident the objects of consciousness 
are neither the outward world, nor God, nor even the 
soul itself as to its substance, for if we had a consciousness 
of the substance of the soul, there would be no more dis 
pute concerning its nature, whether it be material or 

act is ulterior to the primitive, spontaneous fact of consciousness, in 
which self is first revealed in opposition to not-self. 

Consciousness, considered as the condition of perceiving immediately 
whatever passes within us, has, by some, been confounded with the 
internal sensibility. Reid, on the contrary, appears to regard it as a 
distinct and special faculty of the mind, whose office is in general to 
observe the operations of the other faculties. This view is rejected by 
Brown, who seems to consider consciousness as nothing more than a 
general word to express the aggregate of the phenomena or states of 
the mind. Many nice questions have been made by other writers, in 
regard to the discrimination of the words consciousness, self, and the me; 
and the distinctions that have been laid down in respect to these words 
may seem to many more subtle than valid. Passing by them therefore, 
it is probably enough here to observe that consciousness is not to be 
confounded neither with the sensibility (external or internal), nor with 
the understanding, nor with the will ; neither is it a distinct and special 
faculty of the mind ; nor is it the principle of any of the faculties ; nor 
is it, on the other hand, the product of them. Still less is it a mere 
generalization to express the total series of representations, a merely 
verbal or logical bond to bring into a collective unity the various phe 
nomena of the mind. It is the condition of all knowledge : it is that 
in which all the representations of the mind are revealed to the self, in 
opposition to the not-self. It is not the result of experience (though con 
ditioned by it), since it is pre-supposed in experience, and renders ex 
perience possible. For there is no experience without knowledge ; and 
in order to knowledge it is not only necessary that the sensibility should 
be affected, but that the mind, re-acting upon the sensibility and con 
necting itself with it, representations, or mental phenomena, as the joint 
effect, should be produced ; and these representations, as objects, when 
perceived through the light of consciousness, by the intelligence as the 
subject, constitute knowledge direct and immediate, which, in its most 
general term, is feeling ; or, if the conscious representation is referred 
exclusively to the subject, sensation; if to the object, perception. Con- 



102 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

spiritual. The essence, the being in itself, whatever it be, 
whether of bodies, or of God, or of the soul, falls not 
under consciousness. True philosophy does not exclude 
ontology, but it adjourns it. Psychology does not de 
throne metaphysics, but precedes and clears it up. It 
does not employ itself in constructing a romance concern 
ing the nature of the soul, but it studies the soul in the 

sciousness has been defined in the Critical Philosophy as the act of 
referring that in a phenomenon which belongs to the subject to the sub 
ject ; and that which belongs to the object to the object ; as the power 
of distinguishing ourselves from external objects, and from our own 
thoughts. Perhaps the most correct description of the mind in con 
sciousness, i. e.j of the conscious states of the mind, is the being aware of 
the phenomena of the mind of that which is present to the mind; and 
if self consciousness be distinguished, not in genere, but as a special de 
termination of consciousness, it is the being aware of ourselves, as of 
the me in opposition to the not-me, or as the permanent subject, distinct 
from the phenomena of the mind and from all the outward causes of 
them. 

In regard to the distinction between the natural or spontaneous, and 
the philosophical or reflected consciousness, it may be remarked, that 
while Locke uses the word reflection to signify the natural conscious 
ness common to all reflecting beings, Cousin uses it above to imply a 
particular determination of consciousness by the will. It is a voluntary 
falling back upon the natural and spontaneous consciousness; it is an 
act of self-reduplication. It is in this sense that he regards reflection 
as the special attribute of the philosophic mind. All men are endowed 
with the natural consciousness ; while in many the faculty of higher 
speculation is never developed. The one is like the scales in common 
use, and answers the ends of ordinary life ; the other is like the golden 
scales of the chemist, to appreciate the slightest weight ; or, the one is 
the vision of the unaided eye ; the other the vision aided by the micro 
scope. COLERIDGE makes the same distinction with Cousin ; but he does 
not consider the power of philosophical insight to be as common as 
Cousin would make it: " it is neither possible," says he, " nor necessary 
for all men, or for many, to be philosophers. There is a philosophic (and, 
inasmuch as it is actualized by an effort of freedom, an artificial) con 
sciousness which lies beneath, or, as it were behind the spontaneous con 
sciousness natural to all reflecting beings." TR.] 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 103 

action of its faculties, in the phenomena which conscious 
ness may attain, and does directly attain. 

This may put in clear light the true character of the 
Essay on the Human Understanding. It is a work of psy 
chology and not of ontology. Locke does not investigate 
the nature and principle of the understanding, but the 
action itself of this faculty, the phenomena by which it is 
developed and manifested. Now the phenomena of the 
understanding Locke calls ideas. This is the technical 
word which he every where employs to designate that 
by which the understanding manifests itself, and that to 
which it immediately applies itself: 

Introduction, 8. "I have used it," says he, " to express 
whatever is meant by phantasm, notion, species,* or what 
ever it is which the mind can be employed about in think 
ing. I presume it will be easily granted me that there are 
such ideas in men s minds ; every one is conscious of them 
Li himself; and men s words and actions will satisfy him 
that they are in others." 

It is very obvious that by ideas are here meant the 
phenomena of the understanding, of thought, which the 
consciousness of every one can perceive in himself when 
he thinks, and which are equally in the consciousness of 
other men, if we judge by their words and actions. Ideas 
are to the understanding what effects are to their causes. 
The understanding reveals itself by ideas, just as causes by 
their effects, which at once manifest and represent them. 
Hereafter we shall examine the advantages and disad 
vantages of this term, and the theory also which it 
Involves. For the present it is enough to state it and to 
signalize it as the watchword of the philosophy of Locke. 
The study of the understanding is with Locke and with all 
his school, the study_of ideas ; and hence the celebrated 
word Ideology, recently formed to designate the science 

* [These are the terms employed in the Scholastic philosophy. TR.] 



104 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

of the human understanding. The source of this expres 
sion already lay in the Essay on the Human Understand 
ing, and the Ideological school is the natural daughter of 
Locke.* 

* [Ideology. This word came into use in France about the beginning 
of the present century, and became the general designation of philosophy 
in the Sensual School. One of the most distinguished writers of the 
Ideological school is the Count Destutt de Tracy, to whom perhaps the 
word owes its origin. He was the metaphysician of the Sensual School 
at the period when Cabanis may be considered as its physiologist, and 
Volney its moralist. From the strictness of his thinking, and the clearness 
of his style, Cousin considers him the most faithful and complete repre 
sentative of his school. His writings are characterized by the attempt 
at logical simplicity, and by a great talent for it. He excels in abstrac 
tion and generalization ; he reasons with strictness from the data he 
starts from, but without much scrutiny of the grounds on which those 
data rest, or the processes by which they were furnished. His theory 
of the mind is very simple. The mind, according to him, is nothing but 
sensation, or more properly the sensibility, of which sensation is the ex 
ercise. The sensibility is susceptible of different sorts of impression : 

1, those which arise from the present action of objects upon its organs ; 

2, those which result from their past action, by means of a certain die- 
position which that action left upon the organs ; 3, those of things which 
have relations, and may be compared ; 4, those which spring from our 
wants and lead us to satisfy them. Every thing thus comes from the 
exercise of the sensibility through impressions made upon the organs 
of sense. "When the sensibility is affected by the first sort of impres 
sion, it feels simply; when by the second it repeats or recollects; when 
by the third, it feels the relations or judges ; when by the fourth, it de 
sires or wills. Thus Sensation, according to the nature of its objects, 
manifests itself respectively as pure perception, or memory, or judgment, 
or will. It is therefore the sole principle of all our faculties and of all 
operations of the mind ; since there is none of them which maj net be 
reduced to one or the other of these forms of sensibility. 

It is obvious that Materialism is one of the consequences of this 
theory; resolving all the phenomena of the mind into forms of sen 
sation, it goes to make the supposition of a spiritual subject un 
necessary. Fatalism is another systematic consequence ; willing 
is but a form of the sensibility impressed from without; actions are 
therefore necessary ; and responsibility and moral distinctions are de 
stroyed. The theory results also in Atheism, or, which comes to the 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 105 

Here, then, you perceive the study of the human under 
standing reduced to the study of ideas ; now this study 
embraces several orders of researches which it is important 
definitely to determine.* According to what has been 
said, ideas may be considered under two points of view : 
we may inquire if, in relation to their respective objects, 
whatever these objects may be, they are true or false ; or 
neglecting the question of their truth and falsity, their 
legitimate or illegitimate application to their objects, we 
may investigate solely what they are in themselves as they 
are manifested by consciousness. Such are the two most 
general questions which may be proposed respecting ideas. 
And the order in which they are to be treated can not be 
doubtful. It is obvious enough, that to begin by consider 
ing ideas in relation to their objects, without having ascer 
tained what they are in themselves, is to begin at the end ; 
it is to begin by investigating the legitimacy or illegitimacy 
of consequences, while remaining in ignorance of their prin 
ciples. The correct procedure, then, is to begin by the; 
investigation of ideas, not as true or false, properly or| 
improperly applicable to such or such objects, and conse 
quently as being or not being sufficient grounds for such 
or such opinion or belief, but as simple phenomena of the/ 
understanding, marked by their respective characteristics^ 
In this way unquestionably should the true method of 
observation proceed. 

This is not all. Within these limits there is ground 
likewise for two distinct orders of investigation. 

same thing, in a certain form of Pantheism ; for, according to it, no 
idea can be formed of a God existing independently of the material 
universe. 

Count do Tracy was born in 1754. His Elemens & Ideologic were 
published at Paris in 1801-1804. 2 vols. 8vo TR.] 

* All the distinctions which follow have been before made in the 
opening discourse of the year 1817, on the Classification of Philosophi 
cal Questions and Schools. See Appendix. I. 

5* 



106 ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 

We may study the ideas which are in the human under- 
standing as it is now developed in the present state of 
things. The object, in this case, is to collect the phe 
nomena of the understanding as they are given in con 
sciousness, and to state accurately their differences and 
resemblances, so as to arrive at length at a good classifica 
tion of all these phenomena. Hence the first maxim of the 
method of observation : to omit none of the phenomena 
attested by consciousness. Indeed you have no option ; 
they exist, and they must for that sole reason be recog 
nized. They are in reality, in the consciousness ; and they 
must find a place in the frame-work of your science, or 
your science is nothing but an illusion. The second rule 
is : to imagine none, or to take none iipjon mere supposition. 
As you are not to deny any thing which is, so you are not 
to presume any thing which is not. You are to invent 
nothing and you are to suppress nothing. To omit nothing, 
to take nothing upon supposition ; these are the two maxims 
of observation, the two essential laws of the experimental 
method applied to the phenomena of the understanding, 
as to every other order of phenomena. And what I say 
of the phenomena of the understanding, I say also of their 
characteristics ; none must be omitted, none taken upon 
supposition. Thus having omitted nothing and taken 
nothing upon supposition, having embraced all the actual 
phenomena and those only, with all their actual character 
istics and those only ; you will have the best chance of 
arriving at a legitimate classification, which will compre 
hend the whole reality and nothing but the reality, the 
statistics of the phenomena of the understanding, that is 
of ideas, complete and exact. 

This done, you will know the understanding as it is at 
present. But has it always been what it is at present ? 
Since the day when its operations began, has it not under 
gone many changes ? These phenomena, whose characters 
you have with so much penetration and fidelity analyzed 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 107 

and reproduced, have they always been what they are and 
what they now appear to you ? May they not have had at 
their birth certain characters which have disappeared, or 
have wanted at the outset certain characters which they 
have since acquired? Hence the important question of 
the origin of ideas, or the primitive characters of the 
phenomena of the understanding. When this second 
question shall be resolved ; when you shall know what in 
their birth-place have been these same phenomena which 
you have studied and learned in their present actual form : 
when you shall know what they were, and what they have 
become ; it will be easy for you to trace the route .by 
which they have arrived from their primitive to their pres 
ent state. You will easily trace their genesis, after having 
determined their actual present state, and penetrated their 
origin. It is then only that you will know perfectly what 
you are ; for you will know both what you were, and what 
you now are, and how from what you were you have 
come to be what you are. Thus will be completely known 
to you, both hi its actual and in its primitive state, and 
also in its transformations, that faculty of knowing, that 
intelligence, that reason, that spirit, that mind, that un 
derstanding, which is for you the foundation of all knowl 
edge. 

The question of the present state of OUF ideas, and that 
of their origin, are then two distinct questions, and both 
of them are necessary to constitute a complete psychology. 
In as far as psychology has not surveyed and exhausted 
these two orders of researches, it is unacquainted with the 
phenomena of the understanding ; for it has not appre 
hended them under all their aspects. But where should 
we commence ? Should we begin by recognizing the actual 
character of our ideas, or by investigating their origin? 

Shall we begin with the question of the origin of ideas ? 
It is without doubt a point extremely curious and ex 
tremely important. Man aspires to penetrate the origin 



108 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

of every thing, and particularly of the phenomena that 
pass within him. He can not rest satisfied without having 
gained this. The question concerning the origin of ideas 
is undeniably in the human mind ; it has then its place and 
its claim in science. It must come up in its time, but should 
it come up first ? In the first place it is full of obscurity. 
The mind is a river which we can not easily ascend. Its 
source, like that of the Nile, is a mystery. How, indeed, 
shall we catch the fugitive phenomena, which mark the 
first springing up of thought ? Is it by memory ? But 
you have forgotten what passed within you then ; you did 
not even remark it. Life and thought then go on without 
our heeding the manner in which we think and live ; and 
the memory yields not up the deposit that was never in 
trusted to it. Will you consult others ? They are in the 
same perplexity with yourself. Will you make the infant 
mind your study ? But who will unfold what passes be 
neath the vail of infant thought ? The decyphering of 
these hieroglyphics easily leads to conjectures, to hypothe 
ses. But is it thus you would begin an experimental sci 
ence ? It is evident, then, that if you start with this 
question concerning the origin of ideas, you start with 
precisely the most difficult question. Now if a sound 
method ought to proceed from the better known to the 
less known, from the more easy to the less easy, I ask 
whether it ought to commence with the origin of ideas. 

This is the first objection. Look at another. You begin 

by investigating the origin of ideas ; you begin then by 

\ investigating the origin of that of which you are ignorant, 

i of phenomena which you have not studied. What origin 

could you then find but a hypothetical origin ? And this 

hypothesis will be either true or false. Is it true? Very 

well then : you have happened to divine correctly ; but as 

divination, even the divination of genius, is not a scientific 

process, so the truth itself thus discovered, can not claim 

the rank of science : it is still but hypothesis. Is it false ? 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 1 J 

Then instead of truth under the vicious form of an hypoth 
esis, you have merely an hypothesis without truth. Ac 
cordingly you may see what will be the result. As this 
hypothesis, that is to say in this case this error, will have 
acquired a hold in your mind ; when you come in accord 
ance with it to explain the phenomena of the intelligence as 
it is at present, if they are not what they ought to be in 
order to establish your hypothesis, you will not on that 
account give up your hypothesis. You will sacrifice re 
ality to it. You will do one of two things : you will boldly 
deny all ideas which are not explicable by your hypotheti 
cal origin ; or you Avili arrange them arbitrarily and for the 
support of your hypothesis. Certainly it was not worth 
while to have made choice, with so much parade, of the 
experimental method, to falsify it afterward by putting it 
upon a direction so perilous. Wisdom, then, good sense 
and logic demand, that omitting provisionally the question 

t of the origin of ideas, we should be content first to observe 
the ideas as they now are, the characters which the phe 
nomena of intelligence actually have at present in the con 
sciousness. 

This done, in order to complete our investigations, in 
order to go to the extent of our capacity and of the wants 
of the human mind, and of the demands of the experiment 
al problems, we may then interrogate ourselves as to what 
have been, in their origin, the ideas which we at present 
possess. Either we shall discover the truth, and experi 
mental science, the science of observation and induction, 
will be completely achieved ; or we shall not discover it, 
and in that case nothing will be either lost or compromised. 
We shall not have attained all possible truth, but we shall 
have attained a great part of the truth. We shall know 
what -is, if we do not know what was and we shall al 
ways be prepared to try again the delicate question of the 
origin of ideas, instead of having all our ulterior investi 
gations impaired, and observation perverted beforehand, 



110 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

by the primary vice of our method in getting bewildered 
in a premature inquiry. 

The regular order then of psychological problems may be 
settled in the following manner : 

1. To investigate without any systematic prejudice, by 
observation solely, in simplicity and good faith, the phe 
nomena of the understanding in their actual state as they 
are at present given in consciousness, dividing and classify 
ing them according to the known laws of scientific division 
and classification. 

2. To investigate the origin of these same phenomena 
or ideas by all the means in our power, but with the firm 
resolution not to suffer what observation has given, to 
be wrested by any hypothesis, and with our eyes constant 
ly fixed on the present reality and its unquestionable char 
acters. To this question of the origin of ideas is joined 
that of their formation and genesis, which evidently de 
pends upon and is involved in it. 

Such in their methodical order are the different problems 
included in psychology. The slightest inversion of this 
order is full of danger and may lead to the gravest mis 
takes. Indeed you can easily conceive, that if you treat 
the question of the legitimacy of the application of our 
ideas to their external objects, before learning what these 
ideas exactly are what are their present actual characters, 
and what their primitive characters what they are and 
from whence they spring you must wander at hazard and 
without a torch in the unknown world of ontology. 
Again : you can conceive, that even within the limits of 
psychology, if you begin by wishing to carry by main 
force the question of the origin of ideas, before knowing 
what these ideas are, and before you have recognized them 
by observation, you seek for light in the darkness which 
will not yield it. 

Now, how has Locke proceeded, and in what order haa 
he taken up these problems of philosophy ? 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

Introduction, 3. "I shall pursue," says he, " this fol- 
wing method : 

"First, I shall inquire into the original of those ideas, no 
tions, or whatever else you please to call them, which a 
man observes, and is conscious to -himself he has in his 
mind ; and the ways whereby the understanding comes to 
be furnished with them. 

" Secondly ) I shall endeavor to show what knowledge the 
understanding hath by those ideas; and the certainty, 
evidence, and extent of it. 

"Thirdly, I shall make some inquiry into the nature and 
grounds of faith or opinion ; whereby I mean that assent 
which we give to any proposition as true, of whose truth 
yet we have no certain knowledge : and here we shall have 
occasion to examine the reasons and degrees of assent." 

It is evident that the two latter points here indicated, 
refer to one and the same question, that is, the general 
question of the legitimacy or illegitimacy of the application 
of our ideas to their external objects; and the question is 
here given as the last question of philosophy. It is nothing 
less than the adjournment of the whole logical and onto- 
logical inquiry until after psychology. Here is the funda 
mental characteristic of the method of Locke, and in this 
the originality of his Essay. We agree entirely with 
Locke in this respect, with this provision however, that the 
adjournment of ontology shall not be the destruction of it. 

Now remains the first point, which is purely psychological, 
and which occupies the greatest part of Locke s work. 
He here declares that his first inquiry will be into the 
origin of ideas. Now here are two radical errors in point 
ojjnejhod : i. Locke treats of the origin of ideas before 
studying sufficiently what the ideas are. 2. He does still I 
more: he not only puts the question of the origin of ideas) 
before that of the inventory of the ideas; but he entirely 
neglects the latter question. It was already running a 1 



112 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

great hazard to put the one question before the other , for 
it was seeking an hypothesis at the very outset, even 
though afterward the hypothesis should be confronted with 
the actual reality of consciousness. But how will it be 
when even this possibility of return to truth is interdicted, 
when the fundamental question, of the inventory of our 
ideas and their actual characters, is absolutely omitted ? 

Such is the first error of Locke. He recognizes and 
proclaims the experimental method ; he proposes to apply 
it to the phenomena of the understanding, to ideas ; but 
not being profoundly enough acquainted with this method, 
which indeed was then in its infancy, he has not appre 
hended all the questions to which it gives rise; he has not 
disposed these questions in their true relation to each 
other ; has misconceived and omitted the question, which 
is eminently the experimental problem, namely, the ob 
servation of the actual characters of our ideas; and he has 
fallen at the outset upon a question which he ought to have 
postponed, the obscure and difficult question of the origin 
of our ideas. What then must the result be ? One or the 
other of these two things. 

1 . Either Locke will hit upon the true origin of ideas by 
a sort of good luck in guessing, at which I should rejoice ; 
but however true it may really be it will never be demon 
strated to be true, will never be legitimately established, 
except upon this condition, that Locke subsequently de 
monstrates that the characters of our ideas are ah 1 in fact 
explicable and explained in all their extent by the origin 
which he supposes. 

2. Or, Locke will deceive himself: now, if he deceives 
himself, the error will not be a particular error, confined to 
a single point, and without influence upon the rest. It will 
be a general error, an immense error, which will corrupt 
all psychology at its source, and thereby all metaphysics. 
For in faithfully adhering to his hypothesis, to the origin 
which he had beforehand assigned to all ideas without 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 1]3 

knowing precisely what they were, he will sacrifice all ideas 
which can not be reduced to this false origin. The false 
hood of the origin will spread out over the actual present 
state of the intelligence, and will hide even from the eyes 
of consciousness the actual characters of our ideas. Hence 
it will result that from application to application of this 
hypothesis, that is from error to error, the human under 
standing and human nature will be more and more mis 
conceived, reality destroyed, and science perverted. 

You see the rock ; it was necessary to signalize it. We 
do not know whether Locke has made shipwreck upon it ; 
for as yet we are ignorant what he has done, whether he 
has been so fortunate as to divine correctly, or whether he has 
had the fate of most diviners, and of those who take at 
venture a road they have never measured. We suppose 
ourselves to be at present ignorant, and we shall hereafter 
examine. But here is a proper place to remark that it is 
in great part from Locke, is derived in the eighteenth 
century, and in all his school, the habit and system of 
placing the question of the origin and genesis of ideas at 
the head of all philosophical inquiries. In metaphysics, 
this school is pre-occupied with inquiring what are the first 
ideas which enter into the mind of man. In morals, neg 
lecting the actual facts of man s moral nature, it searches 
for the first ideas of good and evil which rise in the mind 
of man considered in the savage state, or in infancy, two 
states in which experience is not very sure, and may be 
very arbitrary. In politics, it seeks for the origin of soci. 
ety, of government, of laws. In general, it takes fact as 
the equivalent of right ; and all philosophy, for this school, 
is resolved into history, and history the most dim and 
shadowy, that of the first age of humanity. Hence the 
political theories of this school so frequently opposite in 
their results while at the same time so identical in their 
general spirit and character. Some, burying themselves in 
ante-historical or anti-historical conjectures, find as the 



114 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

origin of society force and conquerors ; the first govern 
ment which history presents to them is despotic ; hence the 
idea of government is the idea of despotism. Others, on 
the contrary, in the convenient obscurities of the primitive 
state, perceive a contract, reciprocal stipulations, and titles 
of liberty, which subsequently were made to give way to 
despotism, and which the present times ought to restore. 
In both cases alike the legitimate state of human society is 
always drawn from its supposed primitive form, from that 
form which it is almost impossible to trace ; and the rights 
of humanity are left at the mercy of a doubtful and peril 
ous erudition, at the mercy of hypotheses. In fine, from 
origin to origin, they have gone on even to investigate and 
settle the true nature of humanity, its end and all its destiny, 
by the absurd est geological hypotheses ; and the last ex 
pression of this tendency is the celebrated Telliamed of 
Maillet.* 

To recapitulate : most general character of the philos 
ophy of Locke is independence ; and here I openly range 
myself under his banner, though with the necessary reserv 
ations, if not side by side with the chief, at least side by 
side with his school. In respect to method, that of Locke 
is psychological, or ideological (the name is of little conse 
quence) ; and here again I declare myself of his school. 
But from not sufficiently comprehending the psychological 

* [Maillefs Telliamed. Benedict de Maillet, born in Lorraine in 1659 ; 
French Consul in Egypt, and afterward at Leghorn ; died at Marseilles 
in the year 1738. He was an ardent student of natural history, and a 
man of fanciful turn of mind. He produced a system which for some 
time excited considerable interest. He maintained that all the land of 
the earth, and its vegetable and animal inhabitants rose from the bosom 
of the sea, by successive contractions of the waters ; that men had ori 
ginally been Tritons with tails ; and that they, as well as other animals, 
had lost their marine, and acquired terrestrial forms by their agitations 
when left upon dry ground. The work was published after the death of 
its author by La Mascrier, who also published in 1743 a "Description of 
Egypt drawn up from the papers of De Maillet." TR.] 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 113 

method, I accuse him of having commenced by an order 
of investigations which in the eye of strict reason is not 
the first ; I accuse him of having commenced by an 
order of inquiries which necessarily puts psychology upon 
the road of hypothesis, and which more or less destroys its 
experimental character; and it is here that I withdraw 
myself from him.* 

Let us recollect where we are. We have seen Locke 
entering upon a hazardous route. But has he had the 
good fortune in spite of his bad choice, to arrive at the 
truth, that is to say, at the true explanation of the origin 
of ideas ? What is, according to him, this origin ? This 
is the very basis of the Essay on the Human Understand 
ing, the system to which Locke has attached his name. 
This will be the subject of our future discussions. 

* On all these questions respecting Method, and the order in which 
they should be treated, see in the Pragmens Philosophiques, the " Essay 
on a Classification of Philosophical Questions and Schools" and also the 
"Programme of a Course of Lectures delivered in 1817." 

[These two pieces will be found translated among the ADDITIONII 
PIECES at the end of this volume. TE.J 



CHAPTER II. 



INNATE IDEAS IDEA OF SPACE. 

First Book of the Essay on the Human Understanding Of Innate 
Ideas. Second Book. Experience, the source of all ideas. Sensa 
tion and Eeflection. Locke places the development of the sensi 
bility before that of the operations of the mind. Operations of the 
Mind. According to Locke they are exercised only upon sensible 
data. Basis of Sensualism. Examination of the doctrine of Locke 
concerning the idea of Space. That the idea of Space, in the sys 
tem of Locke, should and does resolve itse.f into the idea of Body. 
This confusion contradicted by facts, and by Locke himself. Div 
tinction of the actual characters of the ideas of Body and of Space: 
1, the one contingent, the other necessary ; 2, the one limited, the 
other illimitable; 3, the one a sensible representation, the other a 
rational conception. This distinction mines the system of Locke. 
Examination of the origin of the idea of Space. Distinction between 
the logical order and the chronological order of Ideas. Logical or 
der. The idea of space is the logical condition of the idea of body, 
its foundation, its reason, its origin, taken logically. The idea of 
body is the chronological condition of the idea of space, its origin, 
taken chronologically. Of the Keason and Experience, considered 
as in turn the reciprocal condition of their mutual development. 
Merit of the system of Locke. Its vices : 1, confounds the measure of 
space with space ; 2, the condition of the idea of space with the idea 
itself. 

/ LOCKE, it is true, is not the first who started the ques 
tion concerning the origin of ideas ; but it is Locke who 
first made it the grand problem of philosophy ; and since 
the time of Locke, it has maintained this rank in his 
school. For the rest, although this question is not the first 
which in strict method should be agitated, yet certainly, 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 117 

taken in its place it is of the highest importance. Lot us 
see how Locke resolves it. 

In entering upon the investigation of the origin of ideas, 
Locke encounters an opinion, which if it be well founded, 
would cut short the question : I refer to the doctrine of 
innate ideas. In truth, if ideas are innate, that is to say, as 
the word seems to indicate, if ideas are already in the 
mind at the moment when its action begins, then it does 
not acquire them ; it possesses them from the first day just 
as they will be at the last ; and properly speaking, they 
have no progress, no generation and no origin. This doc 
trine, then, which Locke rightly or wrongly imputes to his 
adversaries, is opposed to his design in beginning with the 
question of the origin of ideas. It is opposed also to the 
solution "which he wished to give of this question, and to 
the system with which he was pre-occupied. It behooved 
him, then, first of all, to remove this obstacle, to refute 
the doctrine of innate ideas. Hence the polemic dis 
cussion which fills the first book of the Essay on the Un 
derstanding. It is my duty to give you some account of 
this controversy. 

According to Locke there are philosophers who consider 
certain principles, certain maxims and propositions, per 
taining to metaphysics and morals, as innate. Now on 
what grounds can they be called innate? Two reasons 
maybe and have been given; 1, that these propositions 
are universally admitted ; 2, that they are primitive, that 
they are known from the moment the reason is exercised. 

eke examines these two reasons successively. 
n metaphysics, he takes the two following propositions, 
namely : " what is, is," and " it is impossible for the same 
thing to be, and not to be;" and he examines whether in 
fact, all men admit these two propositions. Passing by 
civilized men who have read the philosophers, he has re 
course to savage nations, and he inquires whether a savage 
knows that "what is, is," and "that it is impossible for 



118 ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 

the same thing to be, and not to be." He replies for the 
savage, that he knows nothing about these propositions, 
and cares nothing. He interrogates the infant, and finds 
that the infant is in the same case as the savage. Finally, 
supposing that savages and infants, as well as civilized 
people, admit that what is, is, and that the same is the 
same ; Locke has in reserve an objection which he believes 
unanswerable, namely, that idiots do not admit those prop 
ositions, and this single exception suffices, according to 
Locke, to demonstrate that they are not universally ad 
mitted, and consequently that they are not innate, for cer 
tainly the soul of the idiot is a human soul. 

Examining next whether these propositions are primi 
tive, whether they are possessed at the first, and as soon 
as men come to the use of reason, Locke still takes a child 
for the subject of his experiment, and maintains that there 
are a crowd of ideas which precede them, the ideas of 
colors, of bodies, the idea of his own existence ; and thus 
the propositions in question are not the first which preside 
over the development of intelligence. 

So much for speculative propositions. It is the same 
with practical : Locke subjects moral propositions or 
maxims to the same test as metaphysical. Here he relies 
even more strongly on the manners of savages, on the 
recitals of travelers, and on the observation of infants. 
His conclusion is that there is no moral maxim, universally 
and primitively admitted, and consequently, innate. 

Such are the first two chapters of the first book of the 
Essay on the Human Understanding. The last goes still 
further. If the propositions and maxims, metaphysical and 
moral, before examined, are neither universally or primi 
tively admitted, what must we think of the ideas which 
are contained in these propositions, and which are the ele 
ments of them ? Locke selects two of them, upon which 
he founds an extended discussion, namely, the idea of God, 
and the idea of substance. He has recourse to his ordinary 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 119 

arguments to prove that the idea of God, and that of sub 
stance, are neither universal nor primitive. He appeals to 
the testimony of savage nations, who, according to him, 
have no idea of God ; he appeals also to infants, to know 
if they have the idea of substance ; and he concludes that 
these ideas are not innate, and that no particular idea, nor 
any general proposition, speculative or moral, exists ante 
rior to experience. 

As, eyer since Locke, the question concerning the origin 
of ideas has become the fundamental question in the Sen 
sual School, so also it is to be remarked that ever since 
Locke, the controversy against innate ideas has become 
the necessary introduction of this school. And not only 
the subject, but the manner of treating it, came from 
Locke. Ever since his time, the habit has prevailed of 
appealing to savages and to children, concerning whom 
observation is so difficult ; for in regard to the former, it 
is necessary to recur to travelers who are often prejudiced, 
who are ignorant of the languages of the people they visit ; 
and as to children, we are reduced to the observation of 
very equivocal signs. The controversy of Locke, both in 
its substance and its form, has become the basis of every 
subsequent controversy in his school against innate ideas. 

Now what is the real value of this controversy? Permit 
me to adjourn this question. For if we should give it 
merely a general discussion, it would be insufficient, and 
if we should discuss it more profoundly, it would anticipate 
some particular discussions which the examination of the 
Essay on the Understanding will successively bring up. 
Reserving, then, for the present, my judgment on the con 
clusions of the first book, I enter now upon the second, 
which contains the special theory of Locke, on the question 
of the origin of ideas. 

/ " Let us then suppose, says Locke (B. II. Chap. I. 2), 
/the mind to be, as we say, white paper, void of all characj- 



120 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

ters, without any ideas ; how comes it to be furnished ? 
Whence comes it by that vast store which the busy and 
boundless fancy of man has painted on it, with an almost 
endless variety ? Whence has it all the materials of reason 
and knowledge ? To this I answer, in one word, from ex 
perience ; in that all our knowledge is founded, and from 
that it ultimately derives itself/ 

Let us see what Locke understands by experience. I 
leave him to speak for himself: 

B. II. Ch. I. 2. " Our observation, employed either 
about external sensible objects, or about the internal opera 
tions of our minds, perceived and reflected on by ourselves, 
is that which supplies our understandings with all the mate 
rials of thinking. These two are the fountains of knowledge 
from whence all the ideas we have, or can naturally have, 
do spring." 

3. " 2 he objects of sensation one source of ideas. 

" First, Our senses, conversant about particular sensible 
objects, do convey into the mind several distinct percep 
tions of things, according to those various ways wherein 
those objects do aifect them ; and thus we come by those 
ideas we have of yellow, white, heat, cold, soft, hard, bitter, 
sweet, and all those things which we call sensible qualities ; 
which, when I say the senses convey into the mind, I 
mean, they from external objects convey into the mind 
what produces there those perceptions. This great source 
of most of the ideas we have, depending wholly upon our 
senses, and derived by them to the understanding, I call 
Sensation." 

4. " The operations of our minds the other sources of 
ideas. 

"Secondly, The other fountain from which experience 
furnisheth the understanding with ideas is the perception 
of the operations of our own mind within us, as it is em 
ployed about the ideas it has got ; which operations, wh.en 
the soul comes to reflect on and consider, do furnish the 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 121 

understanding with another set of ideas, which could not 
be had from things without ; and such are perception, think 
ing, doubting, believing, reasoning, knowing, willing, and 
all the different actings of our own minds ; which we being 
conscious of, and observing in ourselves, do from these 
^ receive into our understandings as distinct ideas, as we do 
from bodies affecting our senses. This source of ideas 
every man has wholly in himself; and though it be not 
sense, as having nothing to do with external objects, yet 
it is very like it, and might properly enough be called in 
ternal sense. But as I call the other Sensation, so I call 
this Reflection, the ideas it affords being such only as the 
mind gets by reflecting on its own operations within itself. 
By Reflection, then, in the following part of this discourse, 
I would be understood to mean, that notice which the 
mind takes of its own operations, and the manner of 
them ; by reason whereof there come to be ideas of these 
operations in the understanding. These two, I say, namely, 
external material things, as the objects of sensation, and 
the operations of our minds within, as the objects of re 
flection, are to me the only originals from whence all our 
ideas take their beginnings. The term operations, here I 
use in a large sense, as comprehending not barely the ac- (A 
tions of the mind about its ideas, but some sort of passions/ ) 
arising sometimes from them ; such as is the satisfaction 
or uneasiness arising from any thought." 

5. "All our ideas are of the one or the other of these. 
* The understanding seems to me not to have the least 
glimmering of any ideas, which it doth not receive from 
one of these two. External objects furnish the wind with 
the ideas of sensible qualities, which are all those different 
perceptions they produce in us : and the mind furnishes 
the understanding with the ideas of its own operations. 

These, when we have taken a full survey of them, and 
their several modes, combinations and relations, we shall 
find to contain all our whole stock of ideas ; and that we 

6 



122 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

have nothing in our minds which did not come in one of 
these two ways." 

Locke here evidently confounds reflection with conscious 
ness. Reflection, in strict language, is undoubtedly a iac- 
culty analogous to consciousness,* but distinct from it, arid 
pertains more particularly to the philosopher, while con 
sciousness pertains to every man as an intellectual being. 
Si ill more, Locke arbitrarily reduces the sphere of reflec 
tion or consciousness by limiting it to the " operations" of 
the soul. It is evident that consciousness or reflection has 
for its objects all the phenomena which pass within us, 
sensations or operations. Consciousness or reflection is a 
witness, and not an actor in the intellectual life. The true 
powers, the special sources of ideas, are sensations on the 
one hand, and the operations of the mind on the other, 
only under this general condition, that we have a con 
sciousness of the one as well as the other, and that we can 
fall back upon ourselves and reflect upon them and their 
products. To these two sources of ideas, in strictness, the 
theory of Locke is reduced. 

Now, is it the sensibility ; or is it the operations of our 
soul, which enters first into exercise? Locke does not 
hesitate to pronounce that our first ideas are furnished by 
the sensibility ; and that those which we owe to reflection 
come later. He declares this in B. II. ch. I. 8, and still 
more explicitly in 20 : " I see no reason to believe that the 
soul thinks before the senses have furnished it with ideas 
to think on." And again, 23 : " If it shall be demanded, 
then, when a man begins to have any ideas, I think the 
true answer is, when he first has any sensation . . . ." 

Thus Locke places the acquisitions of the senses before 
those of thought. Now we might pause here, and demand 
if this order is real ; if it is possible to conceive, not per 
haps a sensation, but the idea of a sensation, without the 
* See the preceding chapter. 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 123 

intervention and concurrence of some of the operations of 
the soul. But without entering into this objection, let it 
suffice to state the fact that Locke does not admit the 
operations of the mind to have place until after the sensa 
tions. It remains to see what these operations do, and 
what are their proper functions ; upon what, and in what 
sphere, they are carried on, and whether, supposing them 
not to enter r into exercise till after the sensibility, they are, 
or are not, condemned to operate solely upon the primi 
tive data furnished to them by the senses. In order to 
this, it is necessary to examine with care the nature and 
oj^ject of the operations of the mind, according to Locke. 
Locke is the first who has given an analysis, or rather an 
attempt at an analysis of the sensibility and of the different 
senses which compose it, of the ideas which we owe to each 
of them, and to the simultaneous action of several (B. II 
Ch. II. 2 : Ch. III. IY. and V.) He likewise is the first 
who gave the example of what subsequently in the hands 
of his successors became the theory of the faculties of the 
mind. That of Locke, curious, and precious even, for the 
times, is in itself extremely feeble, vague and confused. 
Faithful, however, to the general spirit of his philosophy, 
Locke attempts to present the faculties in the order of their 
probable development. 
~*The g rgt ^. w ki c h h e t rea t s i s perception : (B. II. Ch. 

IX. 2.) " What perception is, every one will know 
better by reflecting on what he does himself, what he sees, 
hears, feels, etc., or thinks, than by any discourse of mine. 
Whoever reflects on what passes in his own mind, can 
not miss it : and if he does not reflect, all the words in the 
world can not make him have any notion of it." 3. 
" This is certain, that whatever alterations are made in the 
body, if they reach not the mind ; whatever impressions are 
made on the outward parts, if they are not taken notice of 
within ; there is no perception." 4. " Wherever there 
is sense, or perception, there is some idea actually pro- 



124 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

duced, and present to the understanding." And, 15. 
" Perception is the first degree toward knowledge." The 
perception of Locke is undeniably consciousness, the faculty 
of perceiving what actually passes within us. 

After perception comes retention (Chap. X. 1.), or the 
power of retaining actual perceptions, or ideas, and of con 
templating them when present, or of recalling them when 
they have vanished. In this latter case, retention is mem 
ory, the aids to which are attention and repetition. 

Then comes the faculty of distinguishing ideas (Ch. 
XI.) and that of comparing them; from whence spring 
all the ideas of relation, not to omit the faculty of com 
position, from whence spring all the complex ideas which 
come from the combination of several simple ideas. And 
finally, at a later period, the faculty of abstraction and 
generalization is developed. Locke reckons no other facul 
ties. Thus in the last analysis, perception, retention or 
contemplation and memory, discernment and comparison, 
composition, abstraction; these are the faculties of the 
human understanding ; for the will, together with pleasure 
and pain, and the passions, which Locke gives as " opera 
tions of the mind," form another order of the phenomena. 

Now what is the character and what is the offiice of 
these faculties ? About what, for example, is perception 
exercised; to what is it applied? To sensation. And 
what does it ? It does nothing but perceive the sensation, 
nothing but have a conscionsness of it. Add, according to 
Locke (ch. IX. 1.), that the perception is passive, forced, 
inevitable, it is still scarcely any thing but the effect of sen 
sation. The first faculty of the mind, then, adds nothing 
to the sensation; it merely takes knowledge of it. In re 
tention, contemplation continues this perception ; when 
faded, the -memory recalls it. Discernment separates, 
composition re-unites these perceptions ; abstraction seizes 
their most general characters : but still, the materials are 
always, in the last analysis, ideas of sensation due" to per- 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 125 

ception. Our faculties add nothing to the knowledge 
which they draw from them, but that of their own ex 
istcnce and of their action. 

Thus, on the one hand, sensation precedes ; on the other 
the understanding is, for Locke, only an instrument, whose 
whole power is exhausted upon sensation. Locke, to be 
sure, has not confounded sensation and the faculties of the 
mind ; he most explicitly distinguishes them ; but he 
makes our faculties sustain a secondary part, by concen 
trating their action upon the data of the senses. From 
this, to the point of confounding them with the sensibility 
itself, it is but a step, and here already planted in philoso 
phy is the germ, as yet feeble, of that subsequent theory 
of sensation transformed^ of sensation as the sole and sin 
gle principle of all operations of the mind.* It is Locke 
who, without knowing it, or wishing it, has opened the 
route to this exclusive doctrine, by adding to sensation 
only faculties whose sole office is to operate upon it with 
out any original power of their own. The Sensual School 
will be completely formed only when it has arrived at that 
point. In the mean time, while waiting for the future to 
urge the system of Locke onward to this point, let us take 
up this system for what it is, or rather for what it holds 
itself out to be, namely, the pretension of explaining all 
the ideas that are or can be in the human understanding, 
by sensation, and by reflection, that is, the feeling of our 
own operations. 

" If we trace the progress of our minds," says Locke (Ch. 
XII. 8), " and with attention observe how it repeats, 
adds together, and unites its simple ideas received from 
sensation or reflection, it will lead us further than at first 
perhaps we should have imagined. And I believe we shall 
find, if we warily observe the originals of our notions, that 
even the most abstruse ideas, how remote soever they may 

* [As maintained by Condillac and other successors of Locke, of th 
French Sensual School.] TR. 



126 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

seem from sense, or from any operations of our own minds, 
are yet only such as the understanding frames to itself, by 
repeating and joining together ideas, that it had either 
from objects of sense, or from its own operations about 
them: so that those even large and abstract ideas are 
derived from sensation or reflection, being no other than 
what the mind, by the ordinary use of its own faculties, 
employed about ideas received from objects of sense, or 
from the operations it observes in itself about them, may 
and does attain unto. This I shall endeavor to show in the 
ideas we have of space, time, and infinity, and some few 
others, that seem the most remote from those originals." 

Well and good, then. This has a little the air of a chal 
lenge. Let us accept it, and let us see, for example, how 
Locke will deduce the idea of space from sensation and 
from reflection. 

I am a little embarrassed, in attempting to expound to 
you the opinion of Locke concerning space, and I have 
need here to recall to your minds an observation I have 
already made. Locke is the chief of a school. You are 
not to expect, then, that Locke has drawn from his princi 
ples all the consequences which these principles contain ; 
nor even are you to expect that the inventor of a principle 
should establish it with perfect clearness and precision. 
This remark, which is true of the whole Essay on the 
Human Understanding, is particularly true of the chapters 
where Locke treats of the idea of space. There reigns, 
under a clearness sometimes real, but oftener apparent and 
superficial, an extreme confusion ; and contradictions, di 
rect and express, are to be met with not only in different 
chapters, but even in different paragraphs of the sam e 
chapter. Unquestionably it is the duty of the critical 
historian to bring out these contradictions, in order to 
characterize the era and the man ; but history is not merely 
a monograph ; it is not concerned solely with an individual, 
however great he may be ; it seeks in the past the germ 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 127 

of the future. I shall devote myself, then, after having 
pointed out once for all, the innumerable inconsistencies of 
Locke, to the task of disengaging from the midst of these 
barren inconsistencies, whatever there is that is fruitful 
whatever has borne its fruits that which constitutes a sys 
tem, and the true ^system of Locke. This system, you 
know, consists in deducing all ideas from two sources, 
sensation and reflection. The idea of space, then, must 
necessarily be derived from one or the other of these two 
origins. The idea of space is certainly not acquired by re 
flection, by consciousness of the operations of the under 
standing. It conies then from sensation. Here you have 
the systematic principle. We shall allow Locke to start 
from this principle, and arrive at the idea of space. But 
Locke does not set up to reform the human understand 
ing; he wishes only to explain it, to show the origin 
of that which is, not of that which might be or ought to 
be. 

The problem, then, for him, as for every other philoso 
pher, is this : the principle of his system being admitted, 
to deduce from it that which now is, the idea of space, 
such as it is in the minds of all men. We shall therefore 
allow him to proceed according to his system ; then we 
shall take from the hands of this system, the idea of space 
as given by it, and we shall confront it with the idea of 
space as we have it, such as all men have it, independently 
of any system whateverr 

According to Locke, the idea of space comes from sen 
sation. Now from what sense is it derived? It is not 
from the sense of smelling, nor of taste, nor of hearing. It 
must then be from sight and touch. So Locke says, B. II. 
Ch. XIII. 2. " We get the idea of space both by our 
sight and touch, which I think is so evident," etc. If the 
idea of space is an acquisition of the sight and touch, in or 
der to know what it should be under this condition, we 
must recur to previous chapters, where Locke treats of 



123 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY". 

the ideas we gain by the sight, and especially by the 
touch. Let us see what the touch can give according to 
Locke, and according to all the world. 

he touch, aided or not aided by sight, suggests the 
idea of something which resists ; and to resist is to be 
solid. " The idea of solidity, says Locke (Ch. IV. 1), we 
receive by our touch, and it arises from the resistance 
which we find." And what are the qualities of a solid, of 
that something which resists ? Greater or less degree of 
solidity. The greater solidity is hardness ; the less is soft 
ness ; from hence, also, perhaps, figure with its dimensions. 
Put, then, upon your solid, your something which resists, 
its different qualities, and you have every thing which the 
touch, whether aided or not aided by sight can give you. 
This something which resists, which is solid, which is more 
or less so, which has such or such a figure, the three 
dimensions is, in a single word, body. 

Is it true, then, that the touch, with the sight, suffices to 
give us that which resists, the solid with its qualities, 
body ? I do not wish to push the inquiry too far. Anal 
ysis would perhaps force me to admit here a necessary 
intervention of something, altogether different, besides the 
sense of touch. But I now choose rather to suppose that, 
in reality, the touch, sensation, gives the idea of body. 
That sensation may go thus far, I am willing to grant ; 
that it goes further Locke does not pretend. In that 
chapter, in which, almost without any thing of the spirit 
of system, he investigates the products of sight and touch, 
Locke produces nothing from them but the idea of solid, 
that is to say, of body. If afterward, and in the spirit of 
his system, he pretends, as we have seen he does, that the 
idea of space comes from sensation, that is from the sight 
and touch, it follows that he reduces the idea of space to 
that of body, and that, for him, space can be nothing else 
but body itself body enlarged, indefinitely multiplied, the 
world, the universe, and not only the actual, but the pos- 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 129 

sible universe. In fact (Ch. XIII. 10), Locke says : "the 
idea of place we have by the same means that we get the 
idea of space (whereof this is but a particular and limited 

consideration), namely by our sight and touch " 

Same chapter, same section : " to say that the world is 

somewhere, means no more than that it does exist " 

This is clear : the space of the universe is equivalent to 
neither more nor less than to the universe itself, and as the 
idea of the universe is, after all, nothing but the idea of 
body, it is to this idea, that the idea of space is reduced. 
Such is the necessary genesis of the idea of space in the 
system of Locke. 

That there are, in these chapters, many contradict or j 
paragraphs, and that the contradictions are sometimes of 
the most gross and obvious kind is true ; but it is no less 
true, that the system of Locke being given, that is to sa^ 
here, sensation being given as the sole principle of tin 
idea of space, such an idea of space as Locke has jusf 
made out is the necessary result. But is this systematic 
result the reality ? The idea of space, the offspring ot 
sensation, of touch and of sight, is it the idea of space 
such as it exists in your minds, and in the minds of aV 
men ? Let us see, if such as we now are, we confound the 
idea of body and the idea of space if they are fo- vir; bu* 
one and the same idea. 

But in bringing ourselves to the test of such an expe"\- 
ment, let us beware of two things which corrupt every ex 
periment. Let us beware of having in view any particular 
systematic conclusion, and let us beware of thinking of 
any origin whatever : for, the pre-occupation of the mind 
by such or such an origin, would, unconsciously even to 
ourselves, make us attribute to ideas, such as they now *re 
in our consciousness, some special character, more in har 
mony with the origin which we internally prefer. Wo 
shall see hereafter the systematic conclusions which may be 
drawn from the experiment we wish to institute ; hereafter 

6* 



130 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

we will follow up the origin of the idea ; but what we 
have now to do, and it is enough for us, is first to state the 
idea without any prejudice and without any foreign view. 

Is the idea of space, then, reduced hi the understanding 
to the idea of body ? This is the question. And it is a 
question of fact. Let us take whatever body you please : 
take this book which is before our eyes and in our hands. 
It resists, it is solid, it is more or less hard, it has a certain 
figure, etc. Do you think of nothing more in regard to it ? 
Do you not believe, for instance, that this body is some 
where, in a certain place ? Be not surprised at the simpli 
city of my question ; we must not be afraid of recalling 
philosophers to the simplest questions ; for precisely be 
cause they are the simplest, philosophers often neglect 
them, and for want of interrogating evident facts, fall into 
absurd systems. 

Is this body then any where ? is it in some place ? Yes, 
undoubtedly, all men will reply. Very well, then, let us 
take a larger body, let us take the world. Is the world 
somewhere also ? is it in some place ? Nobody doubts it. 
Let us take thousands, and thousands of millions of 
worlds, and can we not, concerning these myriads of 
worlds, put the same question which I have just put con 
cerning this book ? Are they somewhere are they in a 
place are they in space ? We may ask the question con 
cerning a world and millions of worlds, as well as this 
book ; and to all these questions, you reply equally : the 
book, the world, the millions of worlds, are somewhere, 
are in a place, are in space. There is not a human being, 
unless it may be a philosopher pre-occupied with his sys 
tem, who can for a moment call in question what I have 
just said. Take the savage, to whom Locke so often ap 
peals, take the child, and the idiot also, if he be not entire 
ly one, take any human being who has an idea of any 
body whatever, a book, a world, a million of worlds ; and 
he will believe naturally that the book, the world, the 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 131 

millions of worlds, are somewhere, are in a place, are in 
space. And what is it to acknowledge this ? It is to reo 
oguize, more or less implicitly, that the idea of a book, a 
world, millions of worlds, solid, resisting, situated in space, 
is one thing ; and that the idea of space, in which the 
book, the world, the millions of worlds, are situated, is 
another thing. 

This is so evident that Locke himself, when not under 
the yoke of his system, distinguishes perfectly the idea of 
body, of solid, from that of space, and establishes very 
clearly the difference. Thus, for instance, B. II. Chap. 
XIII. 11: 

" There are some that would persuade us that body and 
extension are the same thing : who either change the sig 
nification of words, which I would not suspect them of, 
they having so severely condemned the philosophy of 
others because it hath been too much placed in the uncer- 
tain meaning, or deceitful obscurity of doubtful or insignifi 
cant terms. If therefore they mean by body and extension 
the same that other people do, viz., by body, something 
that is solid and extended, whose parts are separable and. 
movable different ways ; and by extension, only the space 
that lies between the extremities of those solid coherent 
parts, and which is possessed by them : they confound very 
different ideas one with another. For I appeal to every 
man s own thoughts, whether the idea of space be not as 
distinct from that of solidity as it is from the idea of scar 
let c^ 1n r ? It is true, solidity can not exist without exten 
sion, neither can scarlet color exist without extension ; but 
this hinders not, but that they are distinct ideas." This is 
followed by various considerations on the difference be 
tween body and space ; considerations which occupy more 
than ten sections, and to which I must refer you, lest I 
multiply citations too much. I can riot however forbear 
adding here a decisive and curious passage : Chap. XIV. 5 



132 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

" Of pure space then, and solidity, there are several 
(among which I confess myself one) who persuade them 
selves they have clear and distinct ideas ; and that they 
ean think on space without any thing in it that resists or 
is protruded by body. This is the idea of pure space which 
they think they have as clear as any idea they can have of 
the extension of body ; . the idea of the distance between 
the opposite parts of a concave superficies being equally as 
clear without as with the idea of any solid parts between : 
and on the other side they persuade themselves that they 
have, distinct from that of pure space, the idea of some 
thing that fills space, that can be protruded by the impulse 
of other bodies or resist their motion. If there be others 
that have not these two ideas distinct, but confound them, 
and make but one of them, I know not how men who have 
the same idea under different names, or different ideas 
under the same name, can in that case talk with one 
another, any more than a man who, not being blind or deaf, 
has distinct ideas of the color of scarlet, and the sound of 
& trumpet, could discourse concerning scarlet color with 
the blind man I mentioned in another place, who fancied 
that the idea of scarlet was like the sound of a trumpet." 

Thus, according to Locke himself, the idea of space and 
the idea of body are totally distinct. To put this distinc 
tion in a clearer light, let us notice the different characters 
which those two ideas present. 

You have an idea of a body. You believe that it exists. 
But could you suppose that such a body did not exist ? I 
ask you, can you not suppose this book to be destroyed ? 
Undoubtedly. Can you not also suppose the whole world 
to be destroyed, and no body to be actually existing? 
Unquestionably you can. For you, constituted as you jyte, 
the supposition of the non-existence of bodies involves no 
contradiction. And what do we term the idea of a thing 
which we conceive as possibly non-existent ? It is termed 
a contingent and relative idea. But if you should suppose 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 133 

the book destroyed, the world destroyed, all matter de 
stroyed, could you suppose space destroyed ? Can you 
suppose that if there were no body existent, there \vould 
then no longer remain any space for the bodies which might 
come into existence ? You are not able to make the sup 
position. Though it is in the power of the human mind 
to suppose the non-existence of body, it is not in its power 
to suppose the non-existence of space. The idea of space 
is then a necessary and absolute idea. You have then 
two characteristics perfectly distinct, by which the ideas 
of body and of space are separated. 

Moreover, every body is evidently limited. You em 
brace its limits in every part. Magnify, extend, multiply 
the body by thousands of similar bodies, you have re 
moved, enlarged the limits of the body, but you have not 
destroyed its limits ; you conceive them still. But in re 
gard to space, it is not so. The idea of space is given to 
you as a continuous whole, in which you can very readily 
form useful and convenient divisions, but at the same 
time artificial divisions, under which subsists the idea of 
space without limit. For, beyond any determinate portion 
of space, there is space still ; and beyond that space, there 
is still space forever and forevermore. Thus while body 
has in all its dimensions something else which bounds it, 
namely the space which contains it ; there are no limits to 
space. 

The idea of body, moreover, is not complete without the 
idea of form and figure, which implies that you can always 
represent it under a determinate form: it is always an 
image. Far otherwise with space, which is a conception, and 
not an image ; and as soon as you conceive of space by 
imagining it, as soon, that is, as you represent it under 
any determinate form whatever, it is no longer space, of 
which you form a conception, but something in space, a 
body. The idea of space is a conception of the reason 
distinct from all sensible representation. 



134 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

I might pursue this opposition of the ideas of body and 
of space. But it is sufficient to have established these three 
fundamental characteristics: 1, the idea of body is contin 
gent and relative, while the idea of space is necessary and 
absolute; 2, the idea of body implies the idea of limitation, 
the idea of space implies the absence of all limitation ; 3, 
and lastly, the idea of body is a sensible representation, 
while the idea of space is a pure and wholly rational con 
ception. 

If these characteristics are truly those of the idea of 
space, and of the idea of body, these two ideas are pro 
foundly distinct, and no philosophy which pretends to rest 
on observation should ever confound them. Nevertheless, 
the confusion of these ideas necessarily results from the 
system of Locke. The idea of space condemned to come 
from sensation, and not being deducible from the smell, 
the hearing, or the taste was behooved to be derived from 
sight and from tnnp.1i ^nr} fomingu-from nightman d touch, 
jt could.be nothing else than the idea of body, more or 
less generalized. ~K6w ifllas~been deinolistTateir that the 
idea of space is not that of body ; it does not, then, come 
from sight and touch ; it does not, then, come from sensa 
tion ; and as it can still less be deduced from reflection, 
from the sentiment of our own operations ; and as it never 
theless exists ; it follows that all ideas are not derived solely 
from sensation and reflection, and that the system of Locke 
concerning the origin of ideas is defective and vicious, at 
least in regard to the idea of space. 

But in order the better to penetrate this system, \\e 
must ourselves take stand upon the ground of Locke, and 
investigate the question which is, with him, the great phil 
osophical problem. After having determined the charac 
teristics of the idea of space and of the idea of body, as 
they now actually exist in the intelligence of all men, and 
shown that these characteristics establish a profound differ 
ence between these two ideas ; we must now inquire what 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 135 

their origin really is ; we must investigate the origin of the 
idea of space relatively to the idea of body. Every thing 
thus far, I trust, has been simple and clear ; for we have 
not set foot out of the human intelligence as it now mani 
fests itself. Let us go onward ; but let us endeavor that 
the light which we have already gained from impartial 
observation be not quenched in the darkness of any hypo 
thesis. 

There are two sorts of origin. There are in human cog 
nitions, two orders of relations which it is important clearly 
to distinguish. 

Two ideas being given, we may inquire whether the one 
does not suppose the other; whether the one being ad 
mitted, we must not admit the other likewise, or incur the 
reproach of inconsistency. This is the logical order of 
ideas. 

If we regard the question of the origin of the ideas of 
body and of space under this point of view, let us see whali 
will be the result. 

The idea of body and the idea of space being given, 
which supposes the other ? "Which is the logical condition 
of the admission of the other ? Evidently the idea of space 
is the logical condition of the admission of the idea of body. 
In fact, take any body you please, and you can not admit 
the idea of it but under the condition of admitting, at the 
same time, the idea of space ; otherwise you would admit 
a body which was nowhere, which was in no place, and 
such a body is inconceivable. Take an aggregate of bodies ; 
or take a single body, since every body is also an aggregate 
of particles ; these particles are more or less distant from 
each other, and at the same time they co-exist together : 
these are the conditions of every body, even the smallest. 
But do you not perceive what is the condition of the idea 
of co-existence and of distance ? Again the idea of space. 
For how could there be distance between bodies or the 
particles of a body, without space, and what possible r,o- 



133 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

existence is there without a continuity ? It is the same 
with contiguity. Destroy, in thought, continuity of space, 
and distance is no longer appreciable ; neither co-existence 
nor contiguity are possible. Moreover, continuity is ex 
tension. We are not to believe (and Locke has very clearly 
established it, B. II. Ch. XIII. 11), that the idea of ex 
tension is adequate to the idea of body. The fundamental 
attribute of body is resistance ; from hence solidity ; but 
solidity does not imply in itself that this solidity is ex 
tended.* There is no extension but under the condition 
of a continuity, that is, of space. The extension of a body, 
then, already supposes space ; space is not the body or the 
resistance; but that which resists does not resist except 
upon some real point. Now every real point is extended 
is in space. Take away, therefore, the idea of space and 
of extension, and no real body is supposable. Therefore 
as the last conclusion, in the logical order of human know 
ledge, the idea of body is not the logical condition of the 
admission of the idea of space ; but on the contrary, it is 
the idea of space, the idea of a continuity, of extension, 
which is the logical condition of the admission of the slight 
est idea of body. 

This is beyond doubt ; and when we regard the question 
of the origin of ideas under the logical point of view, this 
solution, which is incontestable, overwhelms the system of 
Locke. Now it is at this point that the Ideal school has 
in general taken up the question of the origin of ideas. By 
the origin of ideas, they commonly understand the logical 
filiation of ideas. Hence they could say, with their last 
and most illustrious interpreter, that so far is the idea of 
body from being the foundation of the idea of space, it ia 
the idea of space which is the foundation [the logical con 
dition] of the idea of body. The idea of body is given to 
us by the touch and the sight,. that is, by experience of 

* First Series, Vol. I. xi. p. 297. See also the Essay of Dugald 
Stewart, on the Idealism of Berkeley in his Phil. Essays. 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. : - 

the senses. On the contrary, the idea of space is given to 
us, on occasion of the idea of body, by the understanding, 
the mind, the reason ; in fine, by a faculty other than sen 
sation. Hence the formula of Kant : the pure rational, 
idea of space comes so little from experience that it is the ,_ 
condition"oT all experience. This bold formula holds true 
with perfect strictness, when taken in a certain reference, 
in reference to the logical order of human cognitions. 

But this is not the sole order of cognition ; and the 
logical relation does not comprise all the relations which 
ideas mutually sustain. There is still another, that of 
anterior, or posterior, the order of the relative develop 
ment of ideas ill time their chronological order. And 
the question of the origin of ideas may be regarded under 
this point of view. Now the idea of space, we have just 
seen, is clearly the logical condition of all sensible ex 
perience. Is it also the chronological condition of ex 
perience, and of the idea of body ? I believe no such 
thing. If we take ideas in the order in which they ac 
tually evolve themselves in the intelligence, if we investi 
gate only their history and successive appearance, it is not 
true that the idea of space is the antecedent of the idea of 
body. Indeed it is so little true that the idea of space 
supposes chronologically the idea of body, that, in fact, if 
you had not the idea of body, you would never have the 
idea of space. Take away all sensation, take away the 
sight and the touch, and you have no longer any idea of 
body, and consequently none of space. Space is the place 
of bodies ; he who has no idea of a bpdy will never have 
the idea of space which contains it. Rationally, logically, 
if you had not the idea of space, you could not have the 
idea of a body ; but the converse is true chronologically, 
and in fact, the idea of space comes up only along with 
the idea of body: and as you have not the idea of body 
without immediately having the idea of space, it follows 
that these two ideas are cotemporaneous. I will go 



138 CLEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

further. "Not only may we say that the idea of body is 
cotemporaneous with the idea of space, but we may say, 
and ought to say that it is anterior to it. In fact the idea 
of space is cotemporaneous "with the idea of body in this 
sense, that as soon as the idea of body is given you, you 
can not but have that of space ; but yet it was necessary 
that you should have first that of a body, in order that the 
idea of the space which contains it, should appear to you.* 
It is then by the idea of body,f that you go to that of 
space. Take away the idea of body, and you would never 
have the idea of space which incloses it. The former, then, 
may be called the historical and chronological condition of 
the latter. 

Undoubtedly I can not repeat it too much, for it is 
the knot of the difficulty, the secret of the problem 
undoubtedly as soon as the idea of body is given, that 
instant the idea of space is evolved ; but if this condi 
tion were not fultilled, the idea of space would never 
enter the human understanding. When it is awakened 
there, it remains fixed, independently of the idea of body 
which introduced it there ; for we may suppose space with 
out body, while we can not suppose body without space. 
The idea of body was the chronological condition of the 
idea of space, as the latter is the logical condition of the 
former. These two orders are reciprocal, and, so to say, 
in a certain sense all the world are right, and all the world 
are wrong. Logically, idealism and Kantae_jight i __iii 
maintaining tha,t the pure idea of space is the condition of 
the idea of body, and of experience ; and chronologically^ 
empiricism and Locke are right in their turn, in Ijolding 
up experience, that is, on this point, sensation, the_sensa- 

* [Or be evolved in your consciousness. TR.] 
f [By the idea of body as the occasion. TR.] 
\ [Was the occasion of its evolution. TR.] 

[Fra,gmens Philosophiques, Programme of a Course of Lectwes de 
livered in 1817. See ADDITIONAL PIECES. TR.] 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 13G 

tion of sight and touch, as the condition of the idea of 
space, and of any exercise of the understanding, 

In general, idealism more or less neglects the question 
of the origin of ideas, and scarcely regards them but in 
their actual character. Taking its position, at the outset, 
in the understanding as at present developed, it does not 
investigate its successive acquisitions ; it does not trouble 
itself about the chronological order of ideas. It confines 
itself to their logical connection ; it starts from reason, not 
from experience. Locke, on the contrary, pre-occupied with 
the question of the origin of ideas, neglects their actual 
characters, confounds their chronological condition with 
their logical ground, and the power of reason with that 
of experience which indeed precedes and guides the former, 
Uit which does not constitute it. Experience, when put 
in its just place, is the condition, but not the principle of 
knowledge. Does it go further, and pretend to constitute 
all knowledge ? It then becomes nothing but a system, a 
system incomplete, exclusive, and vicious. It becomes 
empiricism or the opposite of idealism, which latter is, in 
its turn, the exaggeration of the proper power of reason, 
the usurpation of reason over experience, the destruc 
tion, or the forgetfulness of the chronological and experi 
mental condition of knowledge, and which arises from its 
exclusive pre-occupation with its logical and rational prin 
ciples. Locke introduced and accredited empiricism in the 
philosophy of the eighteenth century. He saw very clearly 
that we could have no idea of space if we had not some 
idea of body. Body is not space ; but it is body which 
fills or which measures space. If then space is not body, 
we never know any thing of space, except what body 
teaches us. Locke saw this : that is his merit. His fault is, 
1, in having confounded that which fills and measures 
space and reveals it to us, with the proper idea of space 
itself; 2, and this second fault is far more general and 
comprehensive than the first, in having confounded the 



140 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

chronological condition of ideas with their logical condi 
tion, the experimental data, external or internal, upon 
condition of which the understanding conceives certain 
ideas, with the ideas themselves. 

This is the most general critical point of view which is 
to be taken of all the metaphysics of Locke. I have 
drawn it from the examination I have just made of his 
theory of the idea of space. It may be applied, and I 
shall apply it in the succeeding discussions, to his theory 
of the idea of the infinite, of time, and of other ideas, 
which Locke has made boast, as you know, of deducing 
easily from experience, from sensation or from reflec 
tion. 



CHAPTER III. 

TIME. THE INFINITE. SUBSTANCE. IDENTITY. 

Recapitulation of the preceding chapter. Continuation of the examina 
tion of the Second Book of the Essay on the Human Understanding. 
Of the idea of Time. Of the idea of the Infinite. Of the idea of 
Personal Identity. Of the idea of Substance. 

I SHALL begin at this time, by placing before you the 
results at which we arrived in the last lecture. The ques 
tion was concerning Space. 

A sound philosophy unquestionably ought not to su^ - 
press and destroy the ontological questions concerning Jis 
nature of space considered in itself; whether it is material, 
or spiritual whether it is a substance, or an attribute- 
whether it is independent of God, or is to be referred to 
God himself; for all these questions are undeniably in the 
human mind. But they should be postponed until psycho 
logical observations correctly made and skillfully combined, 
eli a 1 ! put us in a condition to resolve them. Our first oc 
cupation, then, is with the purely psychological question 
concerning the idea of space. 

If we interrogate the human understanding, as it is de 
veloped in all men, we shall recognize the idea of space 
with these three eminent characteristics : 1. Space is given 
us as necessary, while body is given as that which may or 
may not exist. 2. Space is given us as without limits, while 
body is given as limited on every side. 3. The idea of 
space is altogether rational, while that of body is accom 
panied by a sensible representation. 



142 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

The preliminary question concerning the actual charac 
teristics of the idea of space being thus resolved, we may, 
without danger, advance to the far more obscure and diffi 
cult question concerning the origin of the idea. Now here 
we have carefully distinguished two points of view, which 
are intimately connected together, but which analysis 
should separate, namely, the logical order of ideas, and 
their chronological order. In the logical view, body pre 
supposes space; for what is body? The juxtaposition, 
the co-existence of resisting points, that is, of solids. But 
how could this juxtaposition, this co-existence, happen but 
in a continuity, in space ? But while., in the order of 
reason and of nature, body presupposes space ; it must be 
admitted, on the other hand, that in the chronological 
rider, there is a cotemporaneousness of the idea of body 
and that of space ; we can not have the idea of body with- 
i.u ., that of space, nor of space without that of body. And 
ifi in this cctemporaneous process, one of these ideas may 
be distinguished as the antecedent, it is not the idea of 
space which is anterior to that of body ; it is the idea of 
body which is anterior to that of space. It is not from 
the idea of space that we start ; and if the sensibility, if 
the touch, did not take the initiative, and give us the idea 
of resistance, of solid, of body, we should never have the 
idea of space. Without doubt the idea of body could 
never be formed and completed in the mind, if we had not 
already there the idea of space ; but still, the former idea 
springs up first in time ; it precedes in some degree the 
idea of space, which immediately follows it. 

Here then are two orders perfectly distinct from each 
other. In the order of .nature and of reason, body pre 
supposes space. In the order of the acquisition of knowl 
edge, on the contrary, it is the idea of solid, of body, 
which is the condition of the idea of space. Now the 
idea of body is acquired in the perception of touch, aided 
by the sight ; it is then an acquisition of experience. It is 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 143 

then correct to say that, jjn the chronological order . of . 
knowledge, experience and a certain development of the 
senses, are the condition of the acquisition Qj;.bje,.iiLea of 



senses, are the condition of the acquisition 
space: and Jitjbhe same time,.asJbodY_BresgppQ.Sjea^pafifi^. 
"aiid as" the idea of space is given us by thejreasoiij jmd jru>t__ 
by tile "senses or" experience, it is right also to say that, 
1 ogically, it is the idea_of space^ _andj^certja,in exertion oiL . 
I he reason which render experience possible. 
" "At" this point of view, the true character, the merit and 
the defects, of the system of Locke, are discovered. What 
has Locke done ? Instead of being contented to postpone, 
he has, I apprehend, destroyed the ontological questions 
concerning the nature of space. True, indeed, he had the 
sagacity to give the first rank to the psychological question 
concerning the idea of space. But he ought to have tar 
ried much longer in the inquiry into the actual characteris 
tics of this idea ; and it was a great fault in him to throw 
himself at the outset upon the question of its origin. ISTow 
his general system of the origin of ideas being that all our 
ideas are derived from two sources, reflection, that is con 
sciousness, and sensation ; as the idea of space could not 
come from consciousness, it was clearly necessary it should 
come from sensation ; and in order to deduce the idea of 
space from sensation, it was necessary to resolve it into the 
idea of body. This Locke has done in the systematic 
parts of his work, though at the same time contradicting 
himself more than once ; for sometimes he speaks of space 
as altogether distinct from solidity. But when his system 
comes up, when he puts upon himself the necessity of de 
ducing the idea of space from sensation, then he affirms 
that the idea of space is acquired by the sight and by the 
touch ; and as the touch, aided by the sight, gives us only 
body, and not space, Locke by his mere process implicitly 
reduces space to body. He does the same thing expressly 
when he says that to ask if the world exists in any place, 
is simply to ask if the world exists. This confusion of the 



144 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

existence of space with the existence of the world, is the 
confusion of the idea of space with that of body. This 
confusion was necessary to render his system strict, at least 
in appearance. But the universal belief of the human 
race declares that body is one thing, and space, which in 
closes it, another thing ; the world and all possible worlds, 
o:ie thing; the infinite and illimitable space which incloses 
them, another thing._ Bodies measure apace, but do not, 
constitute it. The idea of body is indeed the antecedent 
of the idea of space ; but it is not the idea itself. 

So much for the idea of space. Let us now proceed 
further to interrogate the second book of the Essay on the 
Human Understanding concerning the most important 
ideas ; and we shall see that Locke constantly confounds 
the order of the acc|uisition of knowledge with the logical 
order, the necessary antecedent of an idea with the idea 
itself. I propose now to examine the system of Locke in 
relation to the idea of time, the idea of the infinite, of per 
sonal identity, and of substance. I begin, as does Locke*, 
with the idea of TIME. 

Here the first rule, you know, is to neglect the question 
concerning the nature of time, and to inquire solely what 
is the idea of time in the human understanding; whether 
it is there, and with what characteristics it is there. It is 
undeniably there. There is no one, who, as soon as he has 
before his eyes, or represents to his imagination, any event 
whatever, does not conceive that it has passed, or is pass 
ing, in a certain time. I ask whether it is possible to 
suppose an event, which you are not compelled to conceive 
as taking place some hour, some day, some week some 
year, some century ? You can suppose the abolition, the 
non-existence of every event ; but you can not suppose 
this of time. Standing before a time-piece, you may very 
easily make the supposition, that from one hour to another, 
no event has taken place ; you are, however, none the less 
nonviiifed that time has passed away, even when no event 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 145 

has marked its course. The idea of time, then, like the 
idea of space, is a necessary idea. I add, that, like space, 
it is also illimitable. The divisions of time, like those of 
space, are purely artificial, and involve the supposition of a 
unity, an absolute continuity of time. Take thousands of 
events, and do with them as you did with bodies, multiply 
them indefinitely, and they will never equal the time which 
precedes and which succeeds them/ Before all finite time, 
and beyond all finite time, there is still time unlimited, in 
finite, inexhaustible. Finally, as with the idea of space 
necessary and illimitable, so is it with the idea or time 
necessary and illimitable ; it is a pure idea of the reason, 
which escapes all sensible representation, all grasp of the 
imagination and of the sensibility. 

Now it is with respect to the origin of the idea of time as 
with the origin of the idea of space. Here again we are to 
distinguish the order of the acquisition of our ideas from 
their logical order. In the logical order of ideas^the idea . 
of any succession of events pre-supposes that of time. 
" THere~could not be any succession, but upon condition of a 
continuous duration, to the different points of wjiich the 
several members of the succession may be attached. J*ake 
.. Awa tne continuity of time, and you take away the possi- 
__ bility of the succession of the events ; just as the continuity 
of space being taken away, the possibility of the juxta 
position and co-existence of bodies is destroyed. But in 
the chronological order, on the contrary^ it is the idea 
of a succession of events^ which precedes the idea of the 
time that includes them. I do not mean to say in regard 
to time, any more than in regard to space, that we have a 
clear and complete idea of a succession, and that then the 
idea of time, as including this series of succession, springs 
up. I merely say, it is clearly necessary that we should 
have a perception of some events, in order to conceive 
that these events are in time. Time is the place of events^ 
just as space is the place of bodies ; whoever had no idea 



140 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

of any event, would have no ideajof time. If, then, the 
logical condition of the idea of succession, lies in the idea 
of time, the chronological condition of the idea of time is 
the idea of succession. 

To this result, then, we are come : the idea of succession 
is the occasion, the chronological antecedent of the neces- 
sary conception of time. JOTow every idea of succession^ 
undeniably an acquisition of experience. It remains to 
rv ascertain of what experience. Is it that of the senses, or 
that of the Operations of the mind ? The first idea of suc 
cession : is it given in the spectacle of outward events, or 
in the consciousness of the events that pass within us ? 
. Take a succession of outward events. In order that 
these events may be successive, it is necessary that there 
should be a first event, a second, a third, etc. But if, 
when you see the second event you do not remember the 
first, it would not be the second ; there could be for you 
no succession. You would always remain fixed at the 
first event, which would not even have the character, of 
first to you, because there would be no second. r The inter- 
vention of memory is necessary, then, in order jbo conceive L,_. 
^Tanv succession \vhatever._ Now memory has for its ob- ... 
jects nothing external j it relates not immediately to 
things, but to ourselves ; we have no memory but of our 
selves. When we say, we remember such a person, we 
remember such a place it means nothing more than that \ 
we remember to have been seeing such a place, or wo : 
remember to have been hearing or seeing such a person j 
There is no memory but of ourselves, because there is no 
memory but upon the condition that there has been a con- S 
sciousness. If consciousness then is the condition of mem 
ory, and memory the condition of the idea of succession, 
it follows that the fir^t^u^cession_is__givenjus in ourselves, 
in consciousness, in the proper objects and phenomena~oT 
consciousness, in our thoughts, in our ideas. But if the 
first succession given us is that of our ideas, as to all sue- 



ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 147 

cession is necessarily attached the conception of time, it 
follows again, that the first idea we have of time, is that of 
the time in which we are ; and so the first succession for 
us is the succession of our own ideas, the first duration for 
us is our own duration ; the succession of outward events, 
and the duration in which these events are accomplished, 
is not known to us till afterward. I do not say that the 
succession of outward events is nothing but an induction 
from the succession of our own ideas ; neither do I say 
that outward duration is nothing but an induction from 
our own personal duration : but I say that we can not 
have an idea either of external succession or of duration, 
till after we have had the consciousness and the memory 
of some internal phenomena, and consequently the concep 
tion of our own duration. Thus then, summarily, the first 
duration given us, is our own ; because the first succession 
which is given, is the succession of our own ideas. 

A profound analysis might carry us further still. There 
is a crowd of ideas, of phenomena, under the eye of con 
sciousness. To inquire what is the first succession given 
us, is to inquire what are the first ideas, the Urst pheno 
mena, which fall under consciousness, and form the first 
succession. Now it is evident in respect to our sensations, 
that they are not phenomena of consciousness except upon 
this condition : that we pay attention to them. Thousands 
and thousands of impressions may aifect my sensibility; 
but if I do not give. them my attention, I have no con 
sciousness of them._ It is the same with respect to many 
of my thoughts, which, if the attention is directed else 
where, do not .come to my consciousness, but vanish in 
reveries. The essential condition of consciousness is atten 
tion ; the internal phenomenon, most intimately allied to 
consciousness then, is attention ; and a series of acts of 
attention is, necessarily, the first succession which is given 
us. Now what is attention ? It is nothing less than the 
wiJl itself; for nobody is attentive without willing to be so. 



Ii8 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

The first succession, then, is that of our voluntary acts. 
Now succession measures time, as body measures space ; 
from whence it follows that the first succession being that 
of voluntary acts, the will is the primitive measure of time ; 
and as a measure, it has this excellence, that it is equal to 
itself; for every thing differs in the consciousness, sensa 
tions and thoughts, while acts of attention, being eminently 
simple, are essentially similar. , 

Such is the theory of the primitive and equal measure 
of time which we owe to M. de Biran ; and you may see 
it expressed with perfect originality of analysis and of style, 
in the lectures of M. Royer-Collard.* M. de Biran con- 

* (Euvres completes de Thomas Reid publiees par M. Th. Jouffroy 
avec des Fragmens de M. Royer-Collard. Paris, 1829. [To the third 
and fourth volume of this edition of Reid s works the editor has attached 
copious extracts and reports of Royer-Collard s lectures, delivered iu 
1811-1814. An extended discussion concerning duration may be found 
in Yol. IY. pp. 347-426. It is too long to be introduced in this place ; 
a brief view of its results is all that can be given. 

The first duration we conceive is, according to Royer-Collard, our own. 
It is not in the succession of our feelings that our. duration consists; for 
succession pre-supposes a duration in which it takes place. Our dura 
tion results from the sentiment of our continued identity which results 
from the continuity of our activity, attested by consciousness and mem 
ory. To act, with consciousness and memory of acting, is to endure. 
"Whenever, in the consciousness of our own activity and the succession 
of its acts, we acquire the conception of the duration (our own) in which 
that succession takes place, it becomes independent of the sentiment of 
our own identical and continuous existence, which contained it. By 
occasion of our own duration, we conceive a necessary and illimitable 
duration, the eternal theater of all existences and all contingent suc 
cessions ; and not only do we conceive it, but we are invincibly per* 
suaded of its reality. This passage from the conception of time within 
us to time without us, is made, in the opinion of Royer-Collard, by what 
he calls a natural induction. His view of this point seems unnecessary 
and burdened with difficulties, the nature of which the reader will ap 
prehend from the criticism of it, by Cousin, as applied to the conception 
of causality, in the next chapter. To explain thejorigin of the concep- 
tion of Time, it is quite sufficient to"* say that when by occasion^ of 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. MO 

tinually repeated that the element of duration is the will; 
and in order to pass from our own duration to outward 
duration, from the succession of our own acts, to the suc 
cession of events, from the primitive and equal measure 
of time for us, to the ulterior and more or less uniform 
measure of time without us, M. de Biran had recourse to 
a twofold phenomenon of the will, which has reference at 
once to the external and to the internal world. According 
to De Biran, the type of the sentiment of the will is the 
sentiment of effort. I make an effort to raise my arm, and 
I raise it. I make an effort to walk, and I walk. The 
effort is a relation with two terms ; the one is internal 
namely, the will, the act of the will; the other is external, 
namely, the movement of the arm, or the step that I take, 
which has its cause and its measure in the internal move- 
ment of the will. Now a moment, an instant, is nothing 
else in itself but a most simple act of the will. It is at first 
3 altogether internal ; then it passes outward, in the external 
movement produced by the nisus or effort, a movement 
which reflects that of the will, and becomes the measure of 
all the subsequent external movements, as the will itself 
is the primitive and undecomposable measure of the first 
movement which it produces. 

Without taking upon myself either the honor or the 
responsibility of all parts of this theory, I hasten to notice 
that of Locke. The merit of Locke consists in having 
proved that the idea of time, of duration, of eternity, is 
suggested to us by the idea of some succession of events ; 

experience anyjgarticular succession is given, the mind, jn^ virtue _ or its 
qwn activity and by its own laws, forms the necessary a^nd universal 
The primitive succession given in consciousness and 



memory (that is, according to Royer-Coliard, the acts of our own will), 
furnishing us the notion of time concrete, particular and determinate 
(our own duration) suffices to supply the condition under which the 
mind in virtue of its own laws, without resorting to the process of iti- 
duction, but immediately forms the conception of duration without us, of 
time absolute, unlimited. TR.] 



150 ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 

and that this succession is taken, not from the external 
world, but from the world of consciousness. See B. II. 
Ch. XIY. XV. XVI. For example, Ch. XIV. 4 : " men 
derive their ideas of duration from their reflection on the 
trains of the ideas they observe to succeed one another in 
their own understandings." And, 6 : " the idea of suc 
cession is not from motion." Also, 12: "the constant 
and regular succession of ideas is the measure and standard 
of all other successions." The analysis of Locke does not 
go far enough ; it does not determine in what particular 
succession of ideas, the first succession, the first duration, 
is given to us* Should it be said that Locke, in making 
the idea of duration to come from reflection, makes it to 
come from the sentiment of the operations of the mind, 
yet as according to Locke the operations of the mind are 
not all active and voluntary, his theory is very far from 
being the same with that which I have just now stated. 
But it must be acknowledged that the one has opened the 
road for the other ; and that it was doing much to have 
deduced the idea of time from the interior, from the phe 
nomena of reflection. This is the merit of Locke s theory. 
The vice of it is more considerable ; but still it is closely 
allied to the merit. Locke saw that the idea of time is 
given in succession, and that the first succession for us is 
necessarily the succession of our own ideas. Thus far 
Locke deserves only praise, for he gives the succession of 
our ideas merely as the condition of the acquisition of the 
idea of time ; but the condition of a tiling is easily taken 
for the thing itself, and Locke, after having taken the idea 
of body, the mere condition of the idea of space, for the 
idea of space itself, here also takes the condition of the idea 
of time, for the idea itself. He confounds succession Avith 
time. He says not merely that the succession of our ideas 
is the condition of the conception of time; but he says that 
time is nothing else than the succession of our ideas. B. II. 
G 1 XIV. 4 : " That we have our notion of succession 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 151 

and duration from this original, namely, from reflection on 
the train of ideas which we find to appear one after another 
in our minds, seems plain to me in that we have no per 
ception of duration, but by considering the train of ideas 
that take their turns in our understandings. When that 
succession of ideas ceases, our perception of duration ceases 
with it ; which every one clearly experiments in himself, 
while he sleeps soundly, whether an hour, or a day, or a 
month, or a year ; of which duration of things, while he 
sleeps or thinks not, he has no perception at all, but it is 
quite lost to him ; and the moment wherein he leaves off 
to think, till the moment he begins to think again, seems 
to him to have no distance. And so, I doubt not, it would 
be to a waking man, if it were possible for him to keep 
only one idea in his mind, without variation and the suc 
cession of others." 

In this whole passage there is : 

1 . A confusion of two ideas very distinct duration and 
succession. 

2. An obvious paralogism ; for duration is explained by 
succession, which, in its turn, is inexplicable only by du 
ration. In truth, where do the elements of any succession 
follow each other, if not in some duration ? Or how could 
succession the distance, so to say, between ideas take 
place, unless in the space proper to ideas and to minds, 
that is, in time ? 

3. Moreover, see to what results the theory of Locke 
leads. If succession is no longer merely the measure of 
time, but time itself; if the succession of ideas is no longer 
the mere condition of the conception of time, but the con 
ception itself; time is nothing else than what the succession 
of our ideas makes it. The succession of our ideas is 
more or less rapid ; time therefore is more or less short, 
not in appearance, but in reality. In absolute sleep, in 
lethargy, all succession of ideas, all thought ceases ; there 
fore we have no duration, arid^not only have we no duration, 



152 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

but there is no duration for any thing ; for not only our 
time, but time in itself, is nothing but the succession of 
our ideas. Ideas exist but under the eye of consciousness ; 
but there is no consciousness in lethargy, in total sleep ; 
consequently there is no time. The time-piece vainly 
moyed on ; the time-piece was wrong ; and the sun, like 
the time-piece, should have stopped. 

These are the results, very extravagant indeed, and yet 
the necessary results of confounding the idea of succession 
with tha,t of time ; and the confusion itself is necessary in 
the general system of Locke, which deduces all our ideas 
from sensation and reflection. Sensation had given space ; 
reflection gives time ; but reflection, that is, consciousness 
with memory, attains only to the succession of our ideas, 
of our voluntary acts, a succession finite and contingent, 
and not time necessary and unlimited, in which this suc 
cession takes place. Experience, whether external or in 
ternal, gives us only the measure of time, and not tune 
itself. Now Locke was forbidden any source of knowledge 
but sensation and reflection. It was necessary of course 
to make time explicable by the one or the other. He saw 
very clearly that it was not explicable by sensation, and it 
could not be by reflection, except upon reducing it to the 
measure of time, that is to say, to succession.* Locke has 
thus, it is true, destroyed time; but he has saved hia 
system. It is at the same price he will save it again in re 
spect to the idea of the infinite. 

Time and Space have for their characteristics, that they 
are illimitable and infinite. Without doubt the idea of the 
infinite is applicable to something else besides time and 
space ; but since we have hitherto treated only of time and 
space, we will now refer the idea of the infinite merely to 
time and space, as Locke has set the example. 

Space and time are infinite. Now the idea of the infinite 

* [For we are conscious of succession (the succession of our own ideas), 
but not of time. Tn.] 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 153 

may be detached from the ideas of time and space, and 
considered in itself, provided we always keep in mind the 
subject from which it is abstracted. The idea of the infi 
nite unquestionably exists in the human understanding, 
since there is undeniably in it the idea of time, and the 
idea of space, which are infinite. The infinite is distinct 
from the finite, and consequently from the multiplication 
of the finite by itself, that is, from the indefinite. That 
which is not infinite added as many times as you please to 
itself will never make up the infinite. You can no more 
deduce the infinite from the finite than you could deduce 
space from body, or time from succession. 

In respect to the origin of the idea of the infinite, recol 
lect that if you had not had the idea of any body, nor of 
any succession, you would never have had the idea of 
space, nor of time ; but at the same time, you can not have 
the idea of a body and of succession, without having [ne 
cessarily awakened along with it] the idea of space and 
of time. Now body and succession are the finite ; space 
and time are the infinite. Therefore without the finite, 
there is for you no infinite ; but at the same time, immedi 
ately that you have the idea of the finite, you can not 
help having the idea of the infinite. Here recollect again 
the distinction between the order of the acquisition of our 
cognitions and their logical order. In the logical order, 
the finite supposes the infinite as its necessary ground ; but 
in the chronological order, the idea of the finite is the ne 
cessary condition of the acquisition of the idea of the 
infinite. 

These facts are evident ; but Locke had a system, and 
this system consists in admitting no other origin of all our 
ideas but sensation and reflection The idea of the finite, 
which resolves itself into that of body and of succession, 
comes easily from sensation or from reflection ; but the 
idea of the infinite, which resolves itself neither into the idea 
of body nor into that of succession, since time and space 

7* 



154 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

are neither one or the other of these two the idea of the 
infinite can come neither from sensation nor from reflection. 
If the idea of the infinite subsist, the system of Locke 
must then be false. It is necessary therefore that the idea 
of the infinite should not subsist ; and Locke has accord 
ingly repulsed and eluded it as much as possible. He be 
gins . by declaring that the idea of the infinite is very 
obscure, while that of the finite is very clear and comes 
easily into the mind (B. II. Ch. XVII. 2.) But obscure, 
or not obscure, is it in the intelligence ? That is the ques 
tion, and whether obscure or not obscure, if it is real, it is 
your duty as a philosopher to admit it, whether you can 
render it clear or not. And then as to the obscurity, let 
us understand ourselves. The senses attain only body ; 
consciousness or reflection attain only succession. The 
objects of sense and of consciousness are then body and 
succession, that is to say, the finite. Thus nothing is 
clearer, for sense or for consciousness than the finite ; while 
the infinite is and ought to be very obscure for sense and 
consciousness, for this very simple reason, that the infinite 
is the object neither of sense nor of consciousness, but of 
the reason alone. If, then, you go about to apprehend the 
infinite by sense and consciousness, it is necessarily obscure 
and even inaccessible ; but if by reason, nothing is clearer, 
even to the degree that it is then precisely the finite which 
becomes obscure to your eyes and escapes you. Thus you 
perceive how empiricism, grounding itself exclusively upon 
experience, internal or external, is naturally led to the de 
nial of the infinite ; while idealism, grounding itself ex 
clusively upon the reason, forms a very clear idea of the 
infinite, but scarcely admits the finite, which is not the ap ! 
propriate object of the reason. 

After having sported awhile with the idea of the in 
finite as obscure, Locke objects again that it is purely 
negative, that it has nothing positive in it. B. II. Ch. 
XVII. 13: "We have no positive idea of infinity." 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 155 

16: "We have no positive idea of Infinite duration." 
18 : " We have no positive idea of infinite space." Here 
we have the accusation, so often since repeated, against 
the conceptions of reason that they are not positive. But 
first, observe that there can no more be an idea of succes 
sion without the idea of time, than of time without the 
previous idea of succession ; and no more idea of body 
without the idea of space, than of space without the pre 
vious idea of body ; that is to say, there can no more be 
the idea of the finite without the idea of infinite, than of 
the infinite without the previous idea of the finite. From 
whence it follows in strictness, that these ideas suppose 
each other, and if any one pleases to say, reciprocally limit 
each other ; and consequently, the idea of the infinite is 
no more the negative of that of the finite, than the idea 
of finite is the negative of that of the infinite. They are 
both negatives on the same ground, or they are both posi 
lives; for they are two simultaneous affirmations, and 
every affirmation contains a positive idea. Or does one 
understand by positive, that which falls under experience 
external or internal, and by negative, that which doea 
not fall under experience ? Then I grant that the idea of 
body and of succession, that is of the finite, does fall solely 
under experience, under sensation and consciousness ; and 
that it alone is positive ; while the idea of time and of 
space, that is, of the infinite, falling only under reason, 13 
purely negative. But with this explanation, we should be 
driven to maintain that all rational conceptions, for exam 
ple those of geometry and morals, are also purely negative, 
and have nothing positive in them. But if by positive be 
understood every thing which is not abstract, every thing 
that is real, every thing that falls within the immediate 
and direct grasp of some one of our faculties, it must be 
admitted that the idea of the infinite, of time and of 
space, is as positive as that of the finite, of succession and 
of body, since it falls under the reason, a faculty altogether 



156 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

as real and as positive as the senses and consciousness, al 
though its proper objects are not objects of experience.* 

At last being obliged to explain himself categorically, 
after many contradictions, for Locke often speaks else 
where, and here also, of the infinity of God (B. II. Oh. 
XVII. 1, and even of the infinity of time and space, ib. 
4, 5), he ends by resolving the infinite into number (ib. 
9) : " Number affords us the clearest idea of infinity. 1 
" But of all other ideas, it is number, as I have said, which 
I think furnishes us with the clearest and most distinct 
idea of infinity we are capable of. For even in space and 
duration, when the mind pursues the idea of infinity, it 

* [The idea of the infinite. This criticism is unquestionably valid as 
against Locke s reduction of the infinite to number, his confusion of the 
idea of the infinite with that of the finite, and consequent destruction 
of the former idea. But there still remains a higher question concern 
ing the positive science of the infinite, which involves the possibility of 
philosophy itself, considered as the positive knowledge of the absolute 
and infinite, or viewed as anything more than the observation and 
analysis of the phenomena of consciousness. The possibility of philoso 
phy, in this sense of the word, is indeed the grand problem of specula 
tive inquiry ; the resolution of it, explicit or implied, determines the 
most general character of the great systems of philosophy. It is a ques 
tion, however, which we do not intend here to discuss. We will only 
remark that the position taken by Cousin on this subject, in his other 
works, constitutes the chief pretension and systematic peculiarity of his 
philosophy. It is a position certainly not without great difficulties. 
Cousin s theory on this subject has been very ably combated in an 
article in the Edinburgh Review for October, 1829. The foregoing dis 
cussion in this chapter may remind those who have read the article 
alluded to, of the objection raised by the reviewer against Cousin s 
doctrine, namely, that the idea of the infinite is purely negative ; and 
the above remarks will, perhaps, be thought a sufficient answer to the 
objection. But in the preface to the second edition of the Philosophical 
Fragments, and in the preface to Cousin s edition of M. De Biran s 
Rapport du Physique et du Moral, extracts from which are printed in the 
appendix to this volume, will be found what the author himself (in a 
letter to the present translator) speaks of as a sufficient " implicit reply 
to the article of the Edinburgh Review." TR.] 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 157 

there makes use of the ideas and repetitions of numbers, 
as of millions of millions of miles, or years, which are so 
many distinct ideas, kept best by number from running 
into a confused heap, wherein the mind loses itself." 

But what is number ? It is in the last analysis, such or 
such a number ; for every number is a determinate num 
ber It is then a finite number, whatever it may be, and 
as high as you please. Number is the parent of succes 
sion, not of duration; number and succession measure 
time, but do not adequate and exhaust it. The reduction 
of the infinite to number is, then, the reduction of time 
infinite, to its measure indefinite or finite ; just as in regard 
to space, the reduction of space to body is the reduction 
of the infinite to the finite. Now to reduce the infinite to 
the finite is to destroy it ; it is to destroy the belief of the 
human race ; but, as before observed, it saves the system 
of Locke. In fact the infinite can enter into the under 
standing neither through sense, nor through consciousness, 
but the finite can enter there wonderfully well through 
these two doors. It alone does so. There is, then (for 
Locke), nothing else, neither in the mind nor in nature: 
and the idea of the infinite is nothing but a vague and 
obscure idea, altogether negative, which at last, when re 
duced to its just value, resolves itself into number and 
succession. 

Let us now examine the theory of Personal Identity in 
Locke, as we have that of Infinity, of Time, and of Space. 

Is the idea of personal identity found, or not found, in 
the human understanding ? Let every one answer for him 
self. Is there any one of you who doubts his personal 
identity, who doubts that he is the same to-day he was 
yesterday, and will be to-morrow ? If no one doubts his 
personal identity, it remains solely to determine the origin 
of this idea. 

I suppose if you did not think and were not conscious 
of thinking, you would not know that you existed. Re- 



T58 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

fleet whether in the absence of all thought, all conscious- 
ness, you could have any idea of your own existence, and 
consequently of your existence as one and the same ? On 
the other hand, can you have the consciousness of a single 
operation of your mind, without instantly having an ir 
resistible conviction of your existence ? You can not. In 
every act of consciousness there is the consciousness of 
some operation, some phenomenon, some thought, volition, 
or sensation ; and at the same time the conception of our 
existence. And when memory, following consciousness, 
conies into exercise, we conceive that the same being, the 
same I my self, who was before the subject of the pheno 
mena of which I was conscious, still exists, and is the same 
whom my memory recalls to me. So that consciousness 
and memory can never be in exercise without the reason 
suggesting to me the irresistible conviction of my personal 
existence as one and identical. 

Now if you distinguish again here the two orders 1 
have repeatedly mentioned, the logical order and the 
chronological order of knowledge, it is evident that in 
the order of reason and nature, it is not the consciousness 
and memory which are the foundation of personal identity ; 
on the contrary, personal identity, the continued existence 
of our being, is the foundation of consciousness and of 
memory. Take away being, and there are no longer any 
phenomena ; the phenomena no longer come to conscious 
ness and memory. Thus in the order of nature and of 
reason, consciousness and memory involve the supposition 
of personal identity. But it is not so in the chronological 
order. In this order, though we can not be conscious and 
remember without instantly having a rational conviction 
of OUT identical existence ; nevertheless it is necessary in 
order to have this conviction of our identity, that there 
should have been some act of consciousness and of mem- 
ory. Undoubtedly the act of memory and of conscious 
ness is not consummated, until the conception of our per 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 159 

eocal identity is awakened ; but some act of memory and 
of consciousness must have taken place, in order that the 
conception of our identity should take place in its turn. 
It is in this sense I say, that an operation, an acquisition of 
memory and of consciousness, of some sort, is the neces 
sary chronological condition of the conception of our per 
sonal identity. 

Analysis might bring up concerning the phenomena of 
consciousness and of memory, which suggest to us the idea 
of our personal identity, the same problem that has already 
been brought up concerning those phenomena of conscious 
ness which suggest the idea of time : it may examine what, 
among the numerous phenomena which we are conscious 
of and remember, are those by occasion of which we first 
acquire the conviction of our existence. This, in fact, is to 
inquire what are the conditions of memory and of con 
sciousness. We have already seen that the condition of 
memory is consciousness. We have already seen also, that 
the condition of consciousness is attention and the princi 
ple of attention is the will. It is the will, then, attested by 
consciousness, which suggests to us the conviction of our 
own existence ; and it is the continuity of the will attested 
by the memory, which suggests to us the conviction of our 
personal identity. It is M. de Biran to whom again I re 
fer the honor and the responsibility of this theory. 

Let us now notice the theory of Locke. It was very 
clearly seen by Locke (B. II. Ch. XXVII. 9), that where 
there is no consciousness (and, as has been well said, Locke 
should have added memory) ; where there is neither con 
sciousness nor memory, there can be for us no idea of our 
personal identity ; so that the sign, the characteristic, and 
the measure of personality, is consciousness. I can not at 
tribute too much praise to this part of the theory of Locke. 
It apprehends and puts in clear light the true sign, the 
true characteristic, the true measure of personality. But 
the sign is one thing, and the thing signified is another 



160 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

thing ; the measure is one thing, the thing measured is 
another thing ; the eminent and fundamental characteristic 
of self, and of personal identity, is one thing, the identity 
itself is another thing. Here, as in regard to the infinite, 
to time, and to space, Locke has confounded the condition 
of an idea with the idea itself. , He has confounded iden 
tity with consciousness and memory, which represent it 
and which suggest the idea of it. B. II. Ch. XXVII. 9. 
u Since consciousness always accompanies thinking, and it 
is that which makes every one to be what he calls self) and 
thereby distinguishes himself from all other thinking beings ; 
31 this alone consists personal identity, that is, the same 
ness of a rational being ; and so far as this consciousness 
can be extended backward to any past action or thought, 
so far reaches the identity of that person ; it is the same 
self now that it was then, and it is by the same self with 
this present one that now reflects upon it, that that action 
was done." Ib. 10, " Consciousness makes personal iden 
tity ;" and 16, " Consciousness makes the same person ;" 
17, "Self depends on consciousness;" 23, "Conscious 
ness alone makes self." 

Now the confusion of consciousness and personal iden 
tity destroys personal identity, just as the confusion of 
number and infinity destroys infinity, as the confusion of 
succession and time destroys time, as the confusion of 
body and space destroys space. In truth, if personal iden 
tity consists wholly in consciousness, then when conscious 
ness is impaired or lost, there must be a diminution or loss 
of personal identity. Deep sleep, lethargy, which is a 
species of sleep ; revery, intoxication, or passion, which 
frequently destroys the consciousness, and of course the 
memory, must not only destroy the sense or feeling of ex- 
istencje, but existence itself. It is not necessary to follow 
all the consequences of this theory. It is evident that if 
memory and consciousness not merely measure existence 
for us, but constitute it, anv one who has forgotten that he 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 161 

did an act. did not in reality do it ; any one who has badly 
measured by memory the time of his existence, has really 
had lesls of existence. A man no longer recollects to have 
done a particular act ; he can not be put upon trial for it, 
for he has ceased to be the same person. The murderer 
must no longer suffer the punishment of his act, if by a for 
tunate chance he has lost the recollection of it. 

To resume : no doubt personality has, for its distinguish 
ing sign, the will and the operations of consciousness and 
memory and if we never had either consciousness or 
memory of any operation and of any voluntary act, we 
should never have the idea of our personal identity. But 
this idea once introduced by [occasion of] consciousness 
and memory into the intelligence, subsists there independ 
ently of the memory of the acts which occasioned it. No 
doubt that which attests and measures personality and the 
moral accountability of our actions, is the consciousness of 
the free will which produced them ; but when these actions 
are once performed by us with consciousness and free will, 
though the recollection of them may have faded or van 
ished quite away, yet the responsibility of them, as well as 
our personality, remains complete. It is not, then, con 
sciousness and memory which constitute our personal iden 
tity. Still more ; not only do they not constitute it, but 
personal identity itself is not even an object of conscious 
ness and of memory. None of us has a consciousness of 
his own nature ; otherwise, the depths of existence would 
be easy to sound, and the mysteries of the soul would be 
perfectly known. We should perceive the soul as we per 
ceive any phenomena of the consciousness, which we ap 
prehend directly, sensation, volition, thinking. But such 
is not the fact. The personal existence, the self which we 
are, does not fall under the eyes of consciousness and 
memory ; and nothing does, but the operations by which 
this self is manifested. These operations are the proper 
objects of consciousness and memory ; personal identity is 



162 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

a conviction of the reason. But none of these distinctions 
could find a place in the theory of Locke. The pretension of 
this theory is to deduce all ideas from sensation and reflec 
tion. But the idea of personal identity could not be made 
to come from sensation ; it was necessary, therefore, to 
make it come from reflection, that is, to make it an object 
of memory and of consciousness, that is, again, to destroy 
the idea of personal existence, by confounding it with the 
phenomena which reveal it, and which, too, without it 
would be impossible. 

[t only remains now to examine the theory of substance. 
Do not be disturbed by the idea of substance any more 
than by that of the infinite. Infinity is an attribute of time 
and space: so the idea and the word substance is a gene 
ralization from the fact which I have just been discussing. 
Consciousness, with memory, attests to you an operation, 
or many successive operations, and at the same time reason 
suggests the belief of your own personal existence. Now 
your personal existence, the self which you are, and which 
reason reveals to you what is it, relatively to the opera 
tions which consciousness and memory attest to you ? It 
is the subject of these operations, of which the operations 
themselves are the characteristics, the signs, the attributes. 
These operations are perpetually changing and renewing ; 
they are accidents. On the contrary, your personal exist 
ence subsists always the same ; amid the perpetual diver 
sity of your acts, you are to-day the same that you were 
yesterday, and that you will be to-morrow. Personal 
identity_js ^ Jhejmnity of your_beingj_jour self, as contradis 
tinguished from the plurality of consciousness and memory. 
Nownb^rng r -ee-"ati-Trd"entical, contradistinguished from 
variable accidents, from transitory phenomena, is sub 
stance. 

Here you have personal substance. And it is the same 
in relation to external substance, which I do not yet care 
to call material substance. The touch gives you the idea 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 103 

of resistance, of solid ; the other senses give you the idea 
of other qualities, primary or secondary. But what ! Is 
there nothing but these qualities ? While the senses give 
you solidity, color, figure, softness, hardness, etc., do you 
believe that these qualities are merely in the air ; or do 
you not believe that they are the qualities of something 
really existing, and which because it really exists, is solid, 
hard, soft, of a certain color, figure, etc. ? You would not 
have had the idea of this something, if the senses had not 
first given you the idea of these qualities ; but you can not 
have the idea of these qualities without the idea of this 
something existent. This is the universal belief, which im 
plies the distinction between qualities and the subject of 
these qualities, between accidents and substance. 

Attributes, accidents, phenomena ; being, . substance, 
subject ; these are the generalizations drawn from the 
two incontestable facts of my belief in my own personal 
existence, and my belief in the existence of an external 
world. 

Now every thing which has been said of body and space, 
of succession and time, of the finite and the infinite, of con 
sciousness and personal identity, all this may be said of 
attribute and subject, of qualities and substance, of pheno 
mena and being. When we inquire concerning the origin 
of the idea of phenomena, of quality, of attribute ; if the 
question be concerning an attribute of an external sub 
stance, the idea is given by the senses ; if concerning an 
attribute of the mind, the idea is given by consciousness. 
But as to the substance itself, whether material or spiritual, 
it is not given either by sense or consciousness ; it is a 
revelation of the reason in the exercise of sense and con 
sciousness ; just as space and time, infinity and personal 
identity, are revealed to us by the reason in the exercise 
of the sensibility, the consciousness and the memory. In 
fine, as body, succession, the finite, variety, logically in 
volve the supposition of space, time, infinity, and unity; so 



164- ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

in order of reason and nature it is evident, that attribute 
and accident involve the supposition of subject and sub 
stance. But it is not less evident that in the order of the 
acquisition of our ideas, [the chronological order], the 
idea of attribute and accident is the necessary condition 
of arriving at that of substance and subject ; just as in this 
same order, the idea of body, of succession, of number, of 
variety, is the condition of the idea of space, of time, of 
infinity, of identity. This being established, it remains to 
see what place the idea of substance occupies in the system 
of Locke. 

"I confess," says he, B. I. Ch. IV. 18, "there is one 
idea which would be of general use for mankind to have, 
as it is of general talk, as if they had it : and this is the idea 
of substance, which we neither have nor can have by sen 
sation or reflection." Locke, then, systematically denies 
the idea of substance. Unquestionably many passages 
might be cited, in which he unconsciously admits it ; but 
he openly repels it, in one place as of " little use in phi 
losophy," B. II. Ch. XIII. 1 9 ; in another as obscure : 
" we have no clear idea of substance in general," B. II. 
Ch. XXIII. 4. But take away from substance this char 
acteristic of abstraction and generality ; restore it to 
reality; and then substance is self, or is body. What 
then ? can we say that the idea is of little use in philoso 
phy ; that is, does the belief of my personal identity, and 
the belief of an external world, play but an insignificant 
part in my understanding and in human life ? Unques 
tionably to the senses, as well as to consciousness, all sub 
stance is obscure ; for no substance, material or spiritual, 
is in itself a proper object of sense or of consciousness. 
But to reason, we say again as before, it is not obscure. 
The idea of substance is the proper object of reason, 
which has its own objects, and reveals them to us with 
as much evidence as consciousness and the senses attest 
their objects. 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 105 

Locke, however, every where repels the idea of sub- 
stance, and when he officially explains it, he resolves it 
into a collection of simple ideas of sensation, or of reflec 
tion B, II. Ch. XXIII. 3, 4, 6 : "... no other idea 
of substances than what is framed by a collection of simple 
ideas." " .... It is by such combinations of simple 
ideas, and nothing else, that we represent particular sorts 
of substances to ourselves." 37. "Recapitulation. All 
our ideas of the several sorts of substances, are nothing but 
collections of simple ideas, with a supposition of something 
to which they belong, and in which they subsist ; though 
of this supposed something we have no clear distinct idea 
at all." And he declares that we know nothing of matter 
but the aggregate of its qualities, and nothing of mind but 
THe aggregate of its operationsT lTothing can be more true 
tHan" this m ascertain "respect. It is indubitable that we 
know nothing of mind but what its operations teach us 
concerning it, and nothing of matter but what its qualities 
teach us of it; just as we have already granted that we 
know nothing of time, save that which succession teaches 

& 

us of it ; nor of space, save that which body teaches ; nor of 
the infinite, save that which the finite teaches ; nor of self, 
save that which consciousness teaches. Body is the sole 
measure of space, succession of time, the finite of the in. 
finite, the operations of consciousness of our identity ; and 
just so, attributes and qualities are the only signs and the 
sole measures of substances, whether material or spiritual. 
Hut because we do not know any thing of one thing except 
what another thing teaches us concerning it, it does not 
follow that the former thing is the latter ; because it is 
only by the aggregate of its qualities that substance mani 
fests itself, it does not follow that substance itself is noth 
ing but an aggregate of those qualities. To argue that 
it does, involves a thousand extravagances and paralogisms 
which have been put forth every where. It is evident that 
the aggregate of qualities into which Locke resolves sub- 



166 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

stance, is altogether impossible without the supposition 
of substance. Royer-Collard has perfectly exposed the 
various aspects of this impossibility.* I shall bring for 
ward but a single one. Among all conditions which are 
requisite to the possibility of this aggregate, look at one 
which is clearly unquestionable : it is that there should be 
some person, some mind, to make this collection. Num 
bers placed under each other do not make addition ; 
arithmetic does not make itself alone, it demands an arith 
metician. Now Locke, by denying substance, has de 
stroyed the arithmetician necessary in order to make this 
addition. The human mind no longer exists, you are no 
longer a mind one and identical, capable of finding the 
sum of the different quantities of which the collection is to 
be composed ; and there remains nothing but different 
quantities compelled to add themselves up, and to perceive 
themselves the relations which connect them together. 
But pass over this radical difficulty, and suppose that a 
collection is possible without some person, some mind, to 
make it. Suppose it made, and made by itself. What 
will it be ? All that a mere collection can be : a class, a 
genus, an abstraction, that is to say, a word. See, then, 
to what you ultimately arrive. Without speaking of God 
who is, however, the substance of substances, the being 
of beings behold mind, behold matter, reduced to words. 
The scholastic philosophy had converted many collections 
into substances, many general words into entities ; but by 
a contrary extravagance, Locke has converted substance 
into a collection, and made all things to be words, and 
this, note it well, necessarily, and by the compulsion of 
his system. Admitting none but ideas explicable by sen 
sation or reflection, and being unable to explain the idea 
of substance either by the one or the other, he was neces 
sarily led to deny it, to resolve it into qualities, which are 

* Fragments of the Lectures of M. Royer-Collard, published in Jouffroy s 
edition of the Works of Reid, Vol. IV. p. 305. 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

easily attained by sensation or reflection. Hence the sys 
tematic identification of substance and qualities, of being 
and phenomena, that is to say, the destruction of being, 
and consequently of beings. Nothing therefore exists as 
substance, neither God, nor the world, neither you, nor 
myself. Every thing resolves itself into phenomena, into 
abstractions, into words: and singular enough, it is the 
very fear of abstraction and of verbal entities, the ill-under 
stood taste for reality, that carries Locke into an absolute 
nominalism which ends in absolute nihilism. 



CHAPTER IV. 

OF THE IDEA OF CAUSE. 

General remarks on the foregoing results. Continuation of the exami 
nation of the Second Book of the Essay on the Human Understanding. 
Of the idea of Cause. Origin in sensation. Refutation. Origin ia 
reflection and the sentiment of the "Will. Distinction between the 
idea of Cause and the Principle of Causality. That the principle 
of causality is inexplicable by the sentiment of will. Of the true 
formation of the principle of Causality. 

THE first fault of Locke in respect to the ideas of Space, 
of Time, of the Infinite, of Personal Identity, and of Sub 
stance, is a fault of method. Instead of investigating and 
ascertaining, at the outset, by impartial observation, the 
characteristics which these ideas actually display in the 
human understanding, Locke begins with the exceedingly 
obscure and difficult question concerning the origin of 
those ideas. Then he resolves this question in respect to 
those ideas, by his general system concerning the origin of 
ideas, which consists in admitting no idea that is not 
formed by sensation, or by reflection. Kow the ideas of 
Space, of Time, of the Infinite, of Personal Identity, and 
of Substance, with the characteristics by which they are 
now undeniably marked, are inexplicable by sensation and 
reflection, and by consequence, incompatible with the 
system of Locke. There remained, then, but one resource 
to mutilate those ideas with their attributes, so as to re 
duce them to the measure of other ideas which really do 
come from sensation or reflection ; for example, the ideag 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 169 

of body, of succession, of number, of the direct pbenomena 
of consciousness and memory, of the attributes of outward 
objects and of our own attributes. 

But we believe we have shown that these latter ideas, 
while they are indeed the condition [the necessary occa 
sion] of the acquisition of the former ideas, are neverthe 
less not the same as the former ; they are the chronological 
antecedent, but not the logical reason of them ; they pre 
cede, but do not explain them. Thus facts distorted and 
confused, save the system of Locke ; re-established and 
distinguished with clearness, they overthrow it. 

These observations are equally and specially applicable 
to the theory of one of the most important ideas in the 
human understanding, the idea which figures most largely 
in human life, and in the books of philosophers ; I mean the 
idea of cause. It would have been wise in Locke to huve 
begun by recognizing and describing this idea exactly as 
it now is, and as it is manifested by our actions and speech. 
But far from this, Locke begins by investigating the origin 
of the idea of cause, and without hesitation refers it to 
sensation ; this will be seen by the following passage : 

B. II. Ch. XXVI. 1." Of cause and effect. Whence 
their ideas got." " In the notice that our senses take of 
the constant vicissitude of things, we can not but observe 
that several particular, both qualities and substances, be^in 
to exist; and that they receive this their existence from 
the due application and operation of some other being. 
From this observation we get our ideas of cause and effect. 
That which produces any simple or complex ideas, we de 
ncte by the general name, cause / and that which is pro 
duced, effect. Thus finding that in that substance which 
we call wax, fluidity, which is a simple idea that was not 
in it before, is constantly produced by the application of a 
certain degree of heat ; we call the simple idea of heat,, in 
relation to fluidity in wax, the cause of it, and fluidity, the 
rlu-rt. So also, finding that the substance wood, which is 



170 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

a certain collection of simple ideas so called, by the appli 
cation of fire is turned into another substance called ashes, 
that is, another complex idea, consisting of a collection of 
simple ideas quite different from that complex idea whicli, 
we call wood ; we consider fire, in relation to ashes, as the 
cause, and ashes as the effect." 2 : " Having thus, from 
what our senses are able to discover in the operations of 
bodies on one another, got the notion of cause and 
effect. . . ." 

This is positive. The idea of cause has its origin in sen 
sation. Whether it is so, is the question for us to examine. 
And first of all, since the question is, whether sensation 
gives us the idea of cause, we must guard against taking 
for granted the thing in question. We must abstract sen 
sation from every foreign element and interrogate that 
alone, in order to discern what it can give relative to the 
>dea of cause. 

I suppose myself then limited exclusively to sensation, 
and, I take the example of Locke, that of a piece of wax 
which melts and passes into a liquid state by contact with 
fire. ~Now what is there here, for the senses ? There are 
two phenomena, the wax and the fire, in contact with each 
other. Of this my senses inform me ; they inform, more 
over, of a modification in the wax which was not there be 
fore. A moment before, they showed me the wax in one 
state ; now they show me it in a different state ; and this 
different state they show me at the same time that they 
show me, or immediately after they have shown me, the 
presence of another phenomena, namely, the fire ; or in 
other words, my senses show me the succession of one 
phenomenon to another. Do my senses show me any 
tiling more ? I do not see that they do, and Locke does 
not pretend that they do ; for according to him, the senses 
give us the idea of cause in the observation of the con 
stant vicissitude of things. ^N"ow the vicissitude of things 
is c!ear]y the succession of phenomena to each other. Let 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 11 

this succession re-appear sometimes, or frequently, or even 
constantly; you will have a constant succession; but 
whether constant and perpetual, or limited to a very few 
cases, the nature of the succession is clearly not altered by 
the number. Succession is never any thing but succession. 
Thus the constant vicissitude of things at the bottom 
resolves itself into their vicissitude, which is nothing but 
their succession. I agree with Locke that the senses give 
me this succession ; and Locke does not pretend that they 
give me any thing more. The only question between us, 
therefore, is to ascertain whether the succession, rare or 
constant, of two phenomena, explains, exhausts the idea 
which we have of cause. 

Because a phenomenon succeeds another, and succeeds 
it constantly, is the latter for that sole reason the cause ? 
Is that all the idea you form of cause ? When you say, 
when you think, that the fire is the cause of the fluidity of 
the wax, I put it to you, whether you merely understand 
that the phenomenon of fluidity succeeds the phenomenon 
of the contact of fire ? I put it to you whether you do 
not believe, whether the whole human race do not believe, 
that there is in the fire an unknown something, a property 
which is not our concern here to determine, but to which 
you refer the production of the phenomenon of the fluidity 
in the wax. I put it to you, whether the conception of a 
phenomenon appearing after another phenomenon, is not 
one thing ; and the conception of a certain property in a 
phenomenon which produces the modification attested by 
the senses in the phenomenon that follows, another thing. 

I will take an example often employed, and which ex 
presses perfectly well the difference between the relation 
of succession, and the relation of cause and eflect. I will 
suppose that I wish at this moment to hear a melody, a 
succession of musical sounds, and scarcely is my desire ex 
pressed when that succession of sounds is heard from a 
neighboring apartment and strikes my ear. There is here 



172 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

evidently nothing but a relation of succession. But sup 
pose that I will to produce those sounds, and that I do 
produce them myself: do I in this case predicate nothing, 
between, rny volition and the sounds, but the relation of 
succession, which I predicated in the former case between 
my desire and the accidental sounds ? Besides the rela 
tion of succession, do I not in this case assume, between 
my will to produce the sounds and the sounds heard, 
another relation still, and one altogether different ? Is it 
not evident that in the last case, I believe not only that 
the first phenomenon, to wit, the will, preceded the second, 
to wit, the sounds ; but moreover, that the first phenome 
non produced the second ; in short, that my will is the 
cause, and the sounds the effect ? This is undeniable : it 
is undeniable, that, in certain cases, we perceive between 
two phenomena only the relation of succession, and that 
in certain other cases, we predicate of them the relation 
of cause to the effect ; and that these two relations are 
not identical. The conviction of every one, and the uni 
versal belief of the human race, leave no doubt on this 
subject. Our acts are not only phenomena which appear 
in a sequence to the operation of the will ; they are judged 
by us, and recognized by others, as the direct effects of 
our will. From hence, moral imputation, judicial imputa 
tion, and three quarters of human life and conduct. If 
there is nothing but a relation of succession, between the 
action of the murderer and the death of his victim, then 
the universal belief and all civil life are without ground. 
For every civil action is founded upon the hypothesis, 
universally admitted, that man is a cause; just as the 
science of nature is also founded upon the hypothesis that 
external bodies are causes, that is, have properties which 
can and do produce effects. From the fact, then, that the 
senses give us the succession of phenomena, their succes 
sion more or less constant, it does not follow that they 
explain that connection of phenomena-, far more intimate 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 173 

and profound, which we call the relation of cause and 
effect ; and consequently they do not explain the origin of 
the idea of cause. As to the rest, I refer you on this 
point to Hume, who has perfectly distinguished vicissitude, 
that is, succession, from causation, and completely demon 
strated that the latter can not come from sensation.* 

* See Hume s Essays on the Human Understanding, Essay 7th. 
[Hume s philosophical genius was of a very superior order. Justice 
was never done to it by his cotemporaries, nor has it since been done in 
the general estimation of the English. In logical force, acuteness, and 
at the same time clearness and elegance of mind, he had few equals. 
His philosophical skepticism was the consistent result of principles at 
that time almost universally adopted. The difference between himself 
and his cotemporaries and opposers was only that he was more acuto 
and consequent than they. In the first place, he clearly and fully es 
tablished the essential difference of the notions of succession and causa 
tion, notions which Locke had confounded for the sake of his system, and 
which every body continued to confound. 1. Hume showed that the 
conception of cause, and of the relation of cause and effect, could not be 
resolved into, or explained by, the notion of succession: they were two 
distinct and different conceptions. 2. He proved, beyond contradiction, 
that the idea of cause and effect is not derived from experience, either 
external or internal, from sensation or from reflection ; but 3. He still 
continued to hold, and seems not to have suspected the questionable- 
ness of, the grounding principle of Locke s system, that all our real 
knowledge must be derived from experience. Hence, 4. He was con 
sistently led to deny the truth, the objective reality of the relation of 
cause and effect. He therefore explained it as a delusion of the imagina 
tion, the result of association, and habit ; as a very useful idea, having 
a subjective necessity and reality (being held, that is by us, as true), but 
having no objective reality, no reality beyond our mind. 

Thus, Hume, for want of elucidation on the third point, remained a 
skeptic. His opponents, Beattie, Oswald, and Priestley, were entirely 
unable to shed any light upon the subject ; for they equally failed in 
perceiving the point to which criticism should have been directed. 

But KANT, struck with the truth and profoundness of Hume s analysii 
and discrimination of the idea of succession and cause, and the impossi 
bility of deriving the latter from experience, was led directly to question 
the grounding principle of Locke s system, and thus to discern a way of 
avoiding the skeptical conclusion of Hume. Upon investigation, he 



174 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

Enough has been shown to ruin the theory of Locke con 
ceniing the origin of the idea of cause from sensation. 

But this is not all. Not only is there in the human mind 
the idea of cause ; not only do we believe ourselves to be 
the causes of our own acts, and that certain bodies are 
often the cause of the movement of certain other bodies ; 
but we judge in a general manner that no phenomenon 
whatever can begin to exist, whether in space or in time, 
without the phenomenon which begins to exist having its 
cause. There is here something more than an idea ; there 
is a principle ; and the principle is as incontrovertible as the 
idea. Imagine a movement, any change whatever, and 
the moment you conceive of this change, this movement, 
you can not help supposing that it was made in virtue of 
some cause. It is not our concern now to inquire what 
this cause is, what its nature, or how it produced such a 
change ; the only question is, whether the human mind can 
conceive of a change, a movement, without conceiving that 
it is produced by virtue of a cause. Here is the founda 
tion of human curiosity, which seeks for a cause for every 
phenomenon, and of the judicial action of society, which 
intervenes as soon as any phenomenon appears in which 
society is concerned. An assassination, a murder, a theft, 
any phenomenon which falls within the scope of the law, 
being given, an author of it is instantly presumed, a thief, 
a murderer, or an assassin, is presumed, and an inquisition 
is made ; nothing of which would be done, if it was not 
a decided impossibility for the human mind not to conceive 
of a cause wherever there is a phenomenon which begins to 

perceived that the idea of cause and effect was not the only one that ia 
applied to experience, with the consciousness of its necessity, yet without 
being derived from experience. Hence, the very first position of his 
Critique of Pure Reason is, that we are in possession of knowledge, >l 
priori , and the first sentence of his work contains the annunciation of 
the important distinction, that although all our knowledge begins with 
experience, yet it is not therefore all derived from experience. Tn.J 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 175 

exist. Observe, I do not say there is no effect without a 
cause, for evidently this is a frivolous proposition, of which 
one term involves the other, and expresses the same idea 
in a different manner. The word effect being relative to 
the word cause, to say that the effect supposes the cause is 
to say nothing but that the effect is an effect. But we do 
not make an identical and frivolous proposition, when we 
say that every phenomenon which begins to exist necessa 
rily has a cause. The two terms of this proposition ; com 
mencing phenomenon, and cause, do not reciprocally 
contain each other; they are not identical; and yet the 
human mind puts a necessary connection between them. 
This is what we call the principle of causality. 

This principle is real, certain, undeniable. What now 
are its attributes ? First, then, it is universal. Is there, I 
put it to you, a savage, a child, an old man, a well man, a 
sick man, an idiot even, provided he is not entirely one, 
who, in the case of a phenomenon beginning to exist^ does 
not instantly suppose a cause of it ? True, indeed, if no 
phenomenon is given, if we have not the idea of some 
change, we do not suppose, we can not suppose, a cause ; 
for where. neither term is known, what relation can be ap 
prehended ? But it is a fact that in this case, a single term 
being given, the supposition of the other and of their re 
lation is involved, and that universally. There is not a 
single case in which we do not thus judge. 

Still more : not only do we thus decide in all cases, natu 
rally and in the instinctive exercise of our understanding ; 
but to decide otherwise is impossible ; a phenomenon being 
given, endeavor to suppose there is no cause of it. You 
can not. The principle, then, is not only universal ; it is 
also necessary. From whence I conclude it is not derived 
from the senses. For even if it should be granted that 
the senses might give the universal, it is evident that they 
can not give the necessary ; for the senses give that which 
appears, or even that which is, just as it is or appears, 



176 ELEMENTS OF- PSYCHOLOGY. 

tliis or that phenomenon, with this or that incidental char 
acteristic: but it is repugnant to suppose that they can 
give that which ought to be, the reason of a phenomenon, 
still less its necessary reason. 

It is so far from being true that the senses and the ex 
ternal world give us the principle of causality, that were it 
not for the intervention of this principle, the external 
world from which Locke derives it, would have for us no 
existence. Suppose that a phenomenon could begin to ap 
pear in time or in space without your being necessarily led 
to suppose a cause ; when a phenomenon of sensation ap 
peared under the eye of consciousness, not conceiving or 
supposing a cause for this phenomenon, you would not 
seek for any thing to which to refer it ; you would stop at 
the phenomenon itself, that is, at a simple phenomenon of 
consciousness, that is again, at a modification of yourselves ; 
you would not go out of yourselves ; you would never at 
tain the external world. For what is it that is necessary 
in order for you to attain the external world and suspect 
its existence ? It is necessary that, a sensation being given, 
you should be forced to ask yourselves, what is the cause 
of this new phenomenon, and also that under the twofold 
impossibility of referring it to yourself, that ME which you 
are, and of not referring it to some cause, you should be 
forced to refer it to a cause other than yourself, to a foreign 
cause, to an external cause. The idea of an external cause 
of our sensations, such is then the fundamental idea of a 
without, of outward objects, of bodies, and of the world. 
I do not say that the world, bodies, external objects, are 
nothing more than causes of certain sensations ; but I say 
that they are first given us as causes of our sensations, un 
der this condition, and by this title. Afterward, or, if you 
please, at the same time, we add to this property of objects 
other properties still. But it is upon this that all the 
others, which we subsequently learn, are founded. Take 
away the principle of causality, sensation reveals to us only 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 177 

its relation to the me which experiences it, without reveal 
ing to us that which produced it, the not-me, external ob 
jects, the world. It is commonly said, and philosophers 
even join with the mass in saying, that the senses discover 
the world to us. This is right, if it is meant merely to say, 
that without the senses, without some previous sensation, 
the principle of causality would lack the basis [the condi 
tion, the occasion] for attaining external causes, so that we 
should never conceive the world. But we completely de 
ceive ourselves, if we understand that it is the senses 
themselves, directly and by their own force, without the 
intervention of the reason, or any foreign principle, which 
make us acquainted with the external world. To know in 
general, to know without regard to any particular object, 
is beyond the reach of the senses. It is the reason, and the 
reason alone, which knows, and which knows the world ; 
and it does not know the world at first but in the character 
of a cause. It is for us, primarily, nothing but the cause 
of the sensitive phenomena which we can not refer to our 
selves ; and we should not search for this cause, and conse 
quently should not find it, if our reason were not provided 
with the principle of causality, if we could suppose that a 
phenomena might begin to appear on the theater of con 
sciousness, of time or of space, without having a cause. 
The principle of causality, then, I am not afraid to declare 
it, is the father of the external world ; while it is far from 
being possible to deduce it from the world and make it 
come from sensation. When we speak of external objects 
and of the world, without previously admitting the princi 
ple of causality, either we know not what we aftirm, or 
we are guilty of a paralogism. 

The result of all this is : that if the question be about 
the idea of cause, we ^an not find it in the succession of 
outward and sensible phenomena ; that succession is the 
condition of the conception of cause, its chronological an 
tecedent, but not its principle and its logical reason : and 

8* 



178 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

if the question be, not merely about the idea of cause, but 
concerning the principle of causality, this principle still 
more escapes from every attempt to explain it by succes 
sion and sensation. In the first case, in regard to the idea 
of cause, Locke confounds the antecedent of an idea with 
the idea itself; and in the second case, in regard to the 
principle of causality, he derives from the phenomena of 
the outward world precisely the principle without which 
there would be for us no outward, no world. He takes for 
granted the very thing in question. He no longer con 
founds the antecedent with the consequent, but the con 
sequent with the antecedent, the consequence with its 
principle; for the principle of causality is the necessary 
foundation of even the slightest knowledge of the outward 
world, of the feeblest suspicion of its existence ; and to 
explain the principle of causality by the spectacle of the 
world, which can be given only by the principle of causal 
ity, is, as we have said, to explain the principle by the 
consequence. Now the idea of cause and the principle of 
causality, are undeniable facts in the human mind ; conse 
quently the system of Locke, which obliges him to receive, 
in their stead, merely the idea of succession, of constant 
succession, does not account for facts, nor explain the 
human mind. 

But is there nothing more in Locke on the great ques 
tion of cause ? Has Locke never assigned to the idea of 
cause another origin than sensation ? You are not to ex 
pect from our philosopher perfect self-consistency. I have 
already told you, and I shall have frequent occasion to 
repeat it, nothing is less consistent than Locke. Contra 
dictions occur not only from book to book, in his Essay ; 
but from chapter to chapter, and almost from paragraph to 
paragraph. I have already cited the positive passage 
(B. II. Ch. XXVI), in which Locke derives the idea of 
cause from sensation. Well now, let us turn over a few 
pages, and we shall find him forgetting both his funda- 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 179 

mental assertion, and the particular examples, all physical, 
produced to justify it ; and concluding, to the great aston 
ishment of the attentive reader, that the idea of cause no 
longer comes from sensation solely, but from sensation, or 
from reflection. Ch. XXVI. 2. ... " In which and all 
other cases, we may observe that the notion of cause and 
effect has its rise from sensation or reflection ; and that thirt 
relation, how comprehensive soever, terminates at last in 
them." This " or " is nothing less than a new theory. 
Hitherto Locke had not said a word about reflection. I: is 
an evident contradiction to the passage I have before cited. 
But is this contradiction thrown in here at hazard, and 
afterward abandoned and lost? Yes, in regard to the 
twenty-sixth chapter; in regard to the entire work, no. 
Read another chapter of the same second Book, Ch. 
XXL On Power. At the bottom, a chapter on power 
is a chapter on cause. For what is power, but the power 
to produce something, that is, a cause?* To treat of 
power, then, is to treat of cause. Now what is the origin 
of the idea of power, according to Locke, in the chapter 
expressly devoted to this inquiry? It is, as in chapter 
twenty-sixth, at once sensation and reflection. 

B. II. Ch. XXI. " Of Power. 1. This idea how got" 
"The mind being every day informed, by the senses, of 
the alteration of those simple ideas it observes in things 
without, and taking notice how one comes to an end, and 
ceases to be, and another begins to exist which was not 
before; reflecting also on what passes within itself, and 
observing a constant change of its ideas, sometimes by the 
impression of outward objects on the senses, and sometimes 
by the determination of its own choice ; and concluding, 
from what it has so constantly observed to have been, that 
the like changes will for the future be made in the same 
things by like agents, and by like ways ; considers in one 

* The famous Essay of Hume on cause is entitled, Of the Idea of 
Power. 



180 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

thing the possibility of having any of its simple ideas 
changed, and in another the possibility of making that 
change ; and so comes by that idea which we call 
power." 

Of these two origins, I have demonstrated that the first, 
namely sensation, is not sufficient to account for the idea of 
cause, that is to say, of power. It remains, then, to exam 
ine the second origin. But this second origin, does it pre 
cede, or follow the first ? We derive, according to Locke, 
the idea of cause, both from sensation, and from reflection. 
But from which of these do we derive it first ? It is one 
of the eminent merits of Locke, as I have before noted, 
that he has shown on the question concerning time, that 
the first succession which reveals to us the idea of time, is 
not the succession of external events, but the succession of 
our own thoughts. Here Locke equally says that it is 
from the internal and not from the external, in reflection 
and not in sensation, that the idea of power is first given. It 
is a manifest contradiction, I grant, with his official chapter 
on cause ; but it is to the honor of Locke to have seen and 
established, even in contradiction to himself, that it is in 
reflection, in the consciousness of our own operations, the 
first and clearest idea of cause is given. I wish to cite 
this passage entire ; for it evinces a true talent for observa 
tion, and a rare psychological sagacity. 

B. II. Ch. XXI. 4. " The clearest idea of active power 
had from spirit." . . . "If we will consider it attentively, 
bodies by our senses, do not afford us so clear and distinct 
an idea of active power, as we have from reflection on the 
operations of our own minds. For all power relating to 
action and there being but two sorts of action wiiereof 
we have any idea, namely, thinking and motion let us 
consider whence we have the clearest ideas of the powers 
which produce these actions. 1. Of thinking, body affords 
us no idea at all, it is only from reflection that we have 
that. 2. Neither have we from body any idea of the be- 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 181 

ginning of motion. A body at rest affords us no idea of 
any active power to move ; and when it is set in motion it 
self, that motion is rather a passion, than an action in it. 
For when the ball obeys the stroke of a billiard stick, it is 
not any action of the ball, but bare passion ; also when by 
impulse it sets another ball in motion that lay in its way, 
it only communicates the motion it had received from an 
other, and loses in itself so much as the other received ; 
which gives us but a very obscure idea of an active power 
moving in a body, while we observe it only to transfer, 
but not to produce any motion. For it is but a very ob 
scure idea of power which reaches not the production of 
the action, but the continuation of the passion. For so is 
motion, in a body impelled by another : the continuation 
of the alteration made in it from rest to motion, being little 
more an action, than the continuation of the alteration of 
its figure by the same blow, is an action. The idea of the 
beginning of motion, we have only from reflection on what 
passes in ourselves, where we find by experience, that 
Darely by willing it, barely by a thought of the mind, we 
can move the parts of our bodies, which were before at 
rest. So that it seems to me, we have from the observa 
tion of the operation of bodies by our senses, but a very 
imperfect, obscure idea of active power, since they afford 
us not any idea of power in themselves to begin any action, 
either motion or thought." 

Locke seems to have felt indeed that he contradicted 
himself; so he adds : " But if, from the impulse, bodies are 
obseived to make one upon another, any one thinks he has 
a clear idea of power, it serves as well to my purpose, 
sensation being one of these ways whereby the mind comes 
by its ideas : only I thought it worth while to consider here 
by the way, whether the mind doth not receive its idea 
of active power clearer from reflection on its own opera 
tions, than it doth from any external sensation." 

Now this power of action, of which we have from redec- 



182 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

tion that distinct idea which sensation alone could not give 
us, what is it ? It is that of the will. 

B. II. Ch. XXI. 5. " This at least, I think evident, 
that we find in ourselves a power to begin or forbear, con 
tinue or end several actions of our minds, and motions of 
our bodies, barely by a thought or preference of the mind 
ordering, or as it were, commanding the doing or not 
doing such or such a particular action. This power which 
the mind has thus to order the consideration of any idea, 
or the forbearing to consider it ; or to prefer the motion 
of any part of the body to its rest, and vice versa in any 
particular instance, is that which we call the will. The 
actual exercise of that power, by directing any particular 
action, or its forbearance, is that which we call willing, or 
volition. The forbearance of that action, consequent to 
such order or command of the mind, is called voluntary / 
and whatsoever action is performed without such a thought 
of the mind is called involuntary." 

We_haye here, then, the will considered as an active 
power, as a productive energy, and consequently as a 
cause. This is the germ of the beautiful theory of M. de 
Biran, concerning the origin of the idea of cause. Accord 
ing to M. de Biran, as according to Locke, the idea of 
cause is not given us in the observation of external phe 
nomena, w T hich regarded solely by the senses, do not 
manifest to us any causative energy, and appear only as 
successive ; but it is given from within, in reflection, in the 
consciousness of our operations, and of the power which 
produces them, namely the will. I make an effort to move 
my arm ; and I move it. When we analyze attentively 
this phenomenon of effort, which M. de Biran considers as 
the type of the phenomenon of the will, we have the fol 
lowing elements: 1, the consciousness of a voluntary act; 
2, the consciousness of a motion produced : 3, a relation 
of the motion to the voluntary act. And what is this 
relation ? Evidently it is not a simple relation of succes- 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 183 

sion. Repeat in yourselves the phenomena of effort, and 
you will find that you all with perfect conviction attribute 
the production of the motion of which you are conscious 
to a previous voluntary operation of which you are also 
conscious. For you, the will is not merely a pure act, 
without efficiency ; it is a productive energy, it is a 
cause. 

Still more. This motion, of which you are conscious, 
which you all refer, as an effect, to the previous operation 
rf the will, as the producing operation, the cause do you, 
I ask, refer this motion to any other will than your own ? 
Do you, or could you, consider it as the will of another, as 
the will of your neighbor, of Alexander, or of Csesar, or 
of any superior or foreign power ? Or, for you, is it not 
your .own ? Do you not always impute every voluntary 
act to yourselves? It is not, in a word, from the con 
sciousness of your will, as your own, that you derive the 
idea of your personality, the idea of yourselves. The dis 
tinguishing merit of M. de Biran is in having established 
that the will is the constituent characteristic of our per 
sonality. He has gone further too far perhaps. As Locke 
confounded- consciousness and memory with personality 
and identity of self, M. de Biran has gone even so far as 
to confound the will with personality itself. It is certainly 
the eminent characteristic of it ; so that the idea of cause, 
which is given in the consciousness of the producing will, 
is for that reason given in the consciousness of our own 
personality, and that we ourselves are the first cause of 
which we have any knowledge. 

In short, this cause, which is ourselves, is implied in 
every fact of consciousness. The necessary condition of 
every phenomenon perceived by the consciousness, is that 
we pay attention to it. If we do not bestow our attention, 
the phenomenon may perhaps still exist, but the conscious 
ness not connecting itself with it, and not taking knowl 
edge of it, it is for us a non-existence. Attention then is 



181 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

the condition of every apperception of consciousness. JN ow 
attention, as I have more than once shown, is the will. 
The condition, then, of every phenomenon of consciousness, 
and of course of the first phenomenon, as of all others, is 
the will ; and as the will is a causative power, it follows 
that in the first fact of consciousness, and in order that 
this fact may take place, there must necessarily be tho 
apperception of our personal causality in the will ; from 
whence it follows again that the idea of cause is the pri 
mary idea ; that the apperception of the voluntary cause 
which we ourselves are, is the first of ah 1 apperceptions ; and 
the condition of all the others. 

Such is the theory to which M. de Biran has raised that 
of Locke.* I adopt it. I believe that it perfectly accounts 
for the origin of the idea of cause. But it remains to in 
quire whether the idea of cause springing from this origin 
and from the sentiment of voluntary and personal activity, 
suffices to explain the idea which all men have of external 
causes, and to explain the principle of causality. For 
Locke, who treats of the idea of cause, but never of the 
principle of causality, the problem did not even exist. 
M. de Biran, who scarcely proposes it, resolves it by far 
too rapidly, and arrives at once at a result, the only one 
permitted by Locke s theory and by his own, but which 
sound psychology and sound logic can not accept. 

According to M. de Biran, after we have derived the 
idea of cause from the sentiment of our own personal ac 
tivity, in the phenomenon of effort, of which we are con 
scious, we transfer this idea outwardly; we project it into 
the external world, by virtue of an operation wnich, with 
Royer-Collard, he has called natural inductio/i.\ Let us 

* See Laromiguiere s Lerons de Philosophic, and also M. de Biran s 
Examen des Lemons de M. Laromiguure, Ch. 8. pp. 140-152. 

f M. de Biran s Examen, pp. 109-T-151; also M. de Biran s Article, 
entitled Leibnitz, in the Biographic Universdle; also the Fragment 
of M. Royer-Collard in Jouffroy s Reid, Yols. III. IV. 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY, 185 

understand. If by this, M. de Biran means merely that 
before knowing external causes of any kind, we first derive 
the idea of cause from ourselves, I grant it. But I deny 
that the knowledge which we have of external causes, and 
the idea which we form of them, is a transfer, a projection, 
an induction of ours. In fact this induction could not taku 
place but under conditions which are in manifest contra* 
diction with facts and with reason. I request here all your 
attention. 

According to Locke and to M. de Biran, it is reflection, 
consciousness, which gives us the first idea of cause. But 
what idea of cause does it give us? Note well that it 
gives us, not the idea of cause in the abstract, in general, 
but the idea of the me which wills, and which, by willing, 
produces, and thereby is a cause. The idea of cause which 
consciousness gives us is, then, an idea altogether partic 
ular, individual and determinate, since it is to us altogether 
personal. Every thing which we know of cause by con 
sciousness, is concentrated in personality. It is this per 
sonality, and in this personality the will, and the will alone, 
and not! ling more, which is the power, the cause, revealed 
in consciousness. This being laid down, let us next see 
what are the conditions of the induction of this cause. 
Induction is the supposition that in certain circumstances 
a certain phenomenon, a certain law, having been given 
us, the same phenomenon, the same law, will take place in 
analogous cases. Induction then implies : 1, analogous 
oases ; 2, a phenomenon which is to continue the same. 
Induction is the process of the mind which having hitherto 
observed a phenomenon only in certain cases, transfers this 
phenomenon this phenomenon, observe, and not another 
to different cases, cases necessarily different, since they 
are only analogous and similar, and can not be absolutely 
identical. The peculiar character of induction then is pre 
cisely in the contrast of the identity of the phenomenon or 
of the law, and of the diversity of the circumstances from 



L88 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

which it is first derived and then transferred. If, then, the 
knowledge of external causes is only an induction from our 
own personal cause, it is in strictness our causality, the 
voluntary and free cause which ourselves constitute, that 
should be transferred by induction into the external world ; 
that is to say, whenever any motion or change begins to 
appear in time or in space, there we must suppose, whit? 
a cause in general ? No ; for bear in mind that we are not 
possessed yet of the general idea of cause, we hai e only 
the idea of our own personal casuality. We can only sup 
pose what we already have, otherwise it would no longer 
be a proper and legitimate process of induction. We must 
suppose, then, not the abstract and general idea of cause, 
but the particular and determinate idea of the particular 
and determinate cause which we ourselves are. From 
whence it follows that it is our own casuality we should be 
obliged to suppose wherever a phenomenon begins to ap 
pear : that is to say, all the causes which we subsequently 
conceive are and can be nothing but our own personality, 
the sole and only cause of all the effects, accidents or events 
which begin to appear. And bear in mind, that the belief 
in the external world and in external causes, is universal 
and necessary. All men have it ; all men can not but have 
it. If^ then, induction explains our whole idea of external 
causes, this induction must be universal and necessary ; it 
must be a universal and necessary fact that we believe our 
selves to be the cause of all the events, movements and 
changes which take place or can take place. 

Thus in strictness, the induction, the transfer of our own 
casuality without ourselves, is nothing less than the substi 
tution of our own personal causality for all the causes of the 
world, the substitution of human liberty for destiny and 
nature. 

M. de Biran would undoubtedly resist this consequence 
as forced ; but there is one which he almost accepts. If 
external causes are nothing but an induction from our own 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 187 

causal power, and if, nevertheless, we are unwilling to al 
low that they are our own, it must at least be conceded 
that they are like our own, conscious, free, animated, living. 
In fact, without pretending that this is our whole concep 
tion of external causes, M. de Biran maintains that such 
is the conception which we form of them at first. And he 
gives in proof of it that children, and savages, who are but 
grown children, conceive of aU external causes after the 
model of their own ; that hence the child is angry at the 
stone which hurt him, as if it had the intention of hurting 
him ; and thje savage personifies and deifies the causes of 
natural phenomena. 

To this I reply : we are not to forget that the belief in 
the external world and in external causes is universal and 
necessary ; and that* the fact which explains it ought itself 
to be universal and necessary; if, therefore, our belief in 
the world and in external causes resolves itself into the 
assimilation of these causes to ours, this assimilation ought 
likewise to be universal and necessary. Now at this point 
I have recourse to psychology ; I look to it to prove that 
all intellectual and moral beings conceive of external causes 
after the fashion of their own as animated and conscious. 
I look to it to prove that this opinion of children and of 
savages, is not only a frequent fact, but an universal fact ; 
that there is not a child nor a savage wiio does not at first 
form this conception. And when it has proved that this 
fact is universal, it must go further still ; it must prove also 
that the fact is not only universal, but that it is necessary. 
But the character of a necessary fact is, that it is not possi 
ble it should not exist; the necessity of an idea, of a law, 
implies the supremacy of that idea, that law, throughout 
the whole extent of duration, as long as the human mind 
subsists. Now, even if I should grant that all children and 
all savages believe at first that external causes are animated, 
living, free, and personal ; this w r ould not be enough to 
establish it as a necessary fact ; it would be requisite that 



188 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

all men, without any distinction, should have this belief, ji * 
as they all, without distinction, believe the principle ,f 
causality. But far from that, we now-a-days do not the 
least in the world admit such an opinion, and it is to our 
credit that we do not. That which [by the theory ip 
question] should be a necessary truth, reproduced from 
age to age without exception or alteration, is for us just 
simply an extravagance which exists for a short period, and 
then passes away never to return. From the fact that tlus 
supposed induction has languished for a single day, fr.nn. 
this alone, we are forced to conclude that it is not an uni 
versal and necessary law of the human mind ; and of course 
it does not explain the universal and necessary belief in the 
existence of the world and of external causes. 
C We all have a perfect conviction that the world exists, 
that there are external causes. These causes we believe to 
be neither personal, nor intentional and voluntary. This is 
the belief of the human race. It is the province of the 
philosopher to explain it, w r ith destroying or impairing it. 
But if this belief is universal and necessary, the judgment 
which includes it and which gives it, ought to have a 
principle which is itself universal and necessary ; and this 
principle is nothing else than the principle of causality, a 
principle now-a-days expressed by logic and grammar un 
der this form: every phenomenon, every change, which 
begins to appear, has a cause. Take away this principle, 
and leave the mere consciousness of our personal causality, 
and never should we have the least idea of external causes 
and of the world. In fact, take away the principle of cau 
sality, and whenever a phenomenon appeared upon the 
theater of consciousness, of which we were not the cause, 
there would no longer be a ground for our demanding a 
cause for the phenomenon. We should not seek for a 
cause. It would be for us without cause. For observe ; 
that even in order to the induction we have been speaking 
of; even in order for us to fall into the absurdity of. assign- 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. ISO 

i 

ing to the sensation as its cause either ourselves, or some 
thing like ourselves, it is necessary to feel the need of 
assigning causes for every phenomenon ; and in order to 
make this induction universal and necessary, this feeling 
of need must be universal and necessary ; in short, we must 
have the principle of causality. Thus, without the principle 
of causality, every phenomenon is for us as though it had 
QO cause, so that we can not even attribute it to an extrav 
agant cause. But on the contrary, assume the principle 
of causality [as potentially existing in the mind,] and as 
soon as a phenomenon of sensation begins to appear on the 
theater of consciousness, at the same instant, the principle 
of causality [actually unfolded and put in exercise by the 
occasion of the phenomenon,] marks it with this character : 
that it can not but have a cause. ISTow, as consciousness 
attests that this cause is not ourselves, and yet it remains 
not less certain that it must have a cause, it follows that 
there is a cause other than ourselves, and which is neither 
personal nor voluntary, and yet is a cause, that is to say, a 
cause simply efficient. Now this is precisely the idea 
which all men form of external causes. They consider 
them as capable of producing the motions which they refer 
to them, but not as intentional and personal causes.* The 
universal and necessary principle of causality is the only 
principle which can give us such causes ; it is, then, the true 
and legitimate process of the human mind in the acquisition 
of the idea of the world and of external causes. 

Having now demonstrated that our belief in external 
causes is not an induction from the consciousness of our 
own personal cause, but a legitimate application of the 
principle of causality, it remains to learn how we pass from 
the consciousness of our own particular causality to the 
conception of the general principle of causality. 

* On the reality of natural causes as efficient and not voluntary, see 
Examination of IteiiVs Essay on Active Power. Course of the History of 
Philosophy, 1st Series, Vol. iv.. pp. 342-5G4. 



190 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

I admit, I am decidedly of the opinion, that the con 
sciousness of our own proper causality precedes any con 
ception of the principle of causality, and of course precedes 
any application of this principle, any knowledge of external 
causality. In my judgment, the process by which, in the 
depths of the mind, the passage is made from the primary 
fact of consciousness to the ulterior fact of the conception 
of the principle, is this. I wish to move rny arm, and I 
move it. We have seen that this fact when analyzed, gives 
three elements: 1, consciousness of a volition which is my 
own, which is personal; 2, a motion produced; 3, and 
finally, a reference of this motion to my will, a relation 
which, as we have seen, is a relation of production, of cau 
sation ; a relation, too, which I no more call in question, 
than I do either of the two other terms ; a relation which is 
given me with the two terms, which is not given me with 
out these two terms, and without which the two terms are 
not given ; so that the three terms are given in one single 
and even indivisible fact, which fact is the consciousness 
of my personal causality. 

Now what is the character of this fact ? It is charac 
terized by being particular, individual, determinate, and foi 
this very simple reason, that the fact is altogether personal 
This producing will is my own, and of course it is a will 
particular and determinate. Again, it is characteristic of 
every thing particular and determinate, to be susceptible 
of the degrees of more or less. I myself, a voluntary cause, 
have at such a moment more or less energy, which makes 
the motion produced by me have more or less force. But 
does the feeblest motion pertain any less to me than the 
most energetic ? Is there between the cause, myself, and 
the effect, motion, a less relation in the one case than in 
the other ? Not at all ; the two terms may vary, and do 
vary perpetually in intensity, but the relation does not 
vary. Still further : the two terms may not only vary, but 
they may be altogether others ; they may even not exist 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 101 

r.t all. They are purely accidental ; but the relation be 
tween these two determinate, variable, and contingent 
terms, is itself neither variable nor contingent. It is uni 
versal and necessary. The moment the consciousness seizes 
these two terms, the reason seizes their relation, and by an 
immediate abstraction which needs not the support of a 
great number of similar facts, it disengages the invariable 
and necessary element of the fact, from its variable and 
contingent elements. Make the attempt to call the truth 
of this relation in question. You can not ; no human in 
telligence can succeed in the attempt. Whence it follows,, 
that this truth is an universal and necessary truth. Rea 
son, then, is subjected to this truth ; it is under an impossi 
bility of not supposing a cause, whenever the senses or the 
consciousness reveal any motion, any phenomenon. Now 
this impossibility, to which reason is subjected, of not 
supposing a cause for every phenomenon revealed in sense 
and consciousness, is what we call the principle of caus 
ality ; not, indeed, in its actual logical formula, but in its 
internal primitive energy. If it be asked, how the uni 
versal and the necessary are found in the relative and the 
contingent, and may be perceived in them, I reply that 
along with the will and the senses, there is also in us the 
faculty of the reason, and that it is developed simultane 
ously with the former.* 

What has just been said of the principle of causality, 
may be said of all the other principles. It is a fact which 
should not be forgotten, though it very often is, that our 
judgments are all at first particular and determinate, and 
that under this form of a particular and determinate judg- 

* On this delicate point, the formation of our actual conception of the 
universal and necessary relation of cause and effect, and in general on 
the formation of rational principles, see first series, Yol. I. Course of 
1817, Program; and Vol. II., Course of 1818, Program; and Lectures 
TI.-IV. pp. 47-58, and Lecture XI. p. 134. [The matter here referred 
to will bo found in the Appendix to this volume. TR.] 



192 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

inent, all universal and necessary truths, all universal and 
necessary principles, make their first appearance. Thus the 
senses attest to me the existence of a body, and at the 
instant I judge that this body is in space, not in space in 
general, not in pure space, but in a certain space ; it is a 
certain body which my senses attest, and it is in a certain 
space that reason locates it. Then, when we reflect upon 
the relation between this particular body and this partic 
ular space, we find that the relation itself is not particular, 
but universal and necessary; and when we. attempt to con 
ceive of a body without any space whatever, we find that we 
can not. So also it is in regard to time. When our con 
sciousness or our senses give us any succession of events or 
of thoughts, we instantly judge that this succession passes 
in a determinate time. Every thing in time and succes 
sion such as they are primitively given us, is determinate ; 
it is such or such a particular succession, an hour, a day, a 
year, etc. But that which is not determinate and special, 
is the relation between this succession and this time. We 
may vary the two terms ; we may vary the succession, and 
the time which embraces the succession ; but the relation 
of succession to time does not vary.* Again it is in the 
same way that the principle of substance is given us. 
When a phenomenon takes place in my consciousness, it is 
a particular and determinate phenomenon ; and accordingly 
I judge, that under this particular phenomenon, there is a 
being, an entity, which is the subject of it not a being in 

* [For illustration : suppose a hundred revolutions of a wheel in a 
hundred minutes. You can then vary the two terms (one hundred 
revolutions, and one hundred minutes) in any way you please ; for 
example, varying the second term, you can suppose the hundred rev 
olutions to take place in five or ten or a thousand minutes; or, va 
rying- the first term, you can suppose five revolutions, or ten, or a 
thousand, made in the hundred minutes; or, varying both terms, you 
an suppose sixty revolutions in sixty seconds, etc. ; but the relation of 
this succession to time, to some time, is not variable. TR."| 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 193 

the abstract and general, but actual and determinate, to 
wit, myself. All our primitive judgments are personal and 
determinate, and yet under the depths of these personal 
and determinate judgments, there are already relations, 
truths, principles, which are not personal and determinate, 
although they do determine and individualize themselves 
in the determination and individuality of their terms. 

Such is the first form of the truths of geometry and 
arithmetic. Take, for example, two objects, and two more 
objects. Here all is determinate ; the quantities to be 
added are concrete, not discrete. You judge that these 
two, and these two objects, make four objects. Now, what 
is to be noted in this judgment ? Here again, as before, 
every thing is contingent and variable, except the relation. 
You can vary the objects; you can put pebbles in the place 
of these books, or hats in the place of the pebbles ; and the 
relation will remain unchanged and invariable. Still fur 
ther: why do you judge that these two determinate ob 
jects added to these two other determinate objects make 
four determinate objects? Reflect. It is in virtue of 
this truth, namely, that two and two make four. Now, 
this truth of relation is altogether abstract and independ 
ent of the nature of the two concrete terms, whatever they 
may be. It is then the abstract truth which leads yon to 
pronounce that two concrete objects added to two concrete 
objects, whether alike or dissimilar, make four concrete 
objects. The abstract is given in the concrete ; the inva 
riable and the necessary in the variable and contingent ; 
the reason in sensation and consciousness. The senses at 
test the existence of concrete quantities and of bodies 
consciousness attests the presence of a succession ot 
thoughts and of all the phenomena which pertain to per 
sonal identity. But at the same time, reason intervenes 
and pronounces that the relations of quantities in question 
are abstract, universal, and necessary. Reason pronounces 
that the relation of body to space is necessary ; that the 

9 



194 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

relation between succession and time is a necessary rela 
tion ; that the relation between the phenomenal plurality 
formed by the thoughts in consciousness, and that sub 
stance, one and identical which is the subject of them, is a 
necessary relation. Thus in the birth-place of intelligence, 
the action of the senses and of consciousness is blended 
with that of reason. The senses and consciousness give 
the phenomena external and internal, the variable, the 
contingent ; reason discovers the universal and necessary 
truths blended with the accidental and contingent truths 
which result directly from the apperception of the internal 
or external phenomena ; and these universal and necessary 
truths constitute universal and necessary principles. Now 
it is with the principle of causality as with other principles ; 
never would the human mind have conceived it in its uni 
versality and its necessity, if first there had not been given 
us a particular fact of causation ; and this primitive partic 
ular fact is that of our own proper and personal causality, 
manifested to the consciousness in an effort, in a voluntary 
act. But this does not suffice of itself wholly to explain 
the knowledge of external causes, because then we should 
have to regard external causes as only an induction from 
our own causality, that is to say, we should have to resolve 
the faith of the human race, its necessary and universal 
faith, into an absurdity, and that a transient absurdity, 
which experience exposes, and which is now-a-days aban 
doned. This explanation, then, is inadmissible. It is ne 
cessary, then, to conceive that in the contingent and par 
ticular fact I will to move my arm, and I move it there 
is a relation of the motion as an effect to the volition as a 
cause, which relation, disengaged from the two terms, is 
seized immediately by the reason as a universal and ne 
cessary truth. From hence the principle of causality ; by 
which we can attain to external causes ; because the princi 
ple is broader than the sphere of consciousness, and with 
it we can judge universally and necessarily that every 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 195 

phenomenon, whatever it be, has a cause. Thus armed, 
so to say, let a new phenomenon present itself, and we 
refer it universally and necessarily to a cause ; and that 
cause not being ourselves, our consciousness bearing wit 
ness, we do not any the less necessarily and universally 
judge that a cause exists ; we only judge that it is other 
than ourselves, that it is foreign, external ; and here, once 
more, is the idea of exteriority, and the basis of our con 
viction of the existence of external causes and of the 
world ; a conviction universal and necessary, because the 
principle of the judgment which gives us it, is itself uni 
versal and necessary. 

Unquestionably, at the same time that we conceive of ex 
ternal causes foreign to ourselves, other than ourselves, not 
intentional, not voluntary, but pure causes, such as the ap 
plication of the general principle of causality affords ^un 
questionably it is true, that the child, the savage, the human 
race in its infancy, sometimes, or even frequently, adds to 
this idea of exteriority and of cause purely efficient, the 
idea of a will, of a personality analogous to our own. But 
because this second fact sometimes accompanies the first, it 
does not follow that we are to confound it with the first. 
In order to apprehend the first as a universal and necessary 
fact, this other fact need not be held universal and neces 
sary. This I have demonstrated. To do so, results in 
errors and temporary superstitions in place of the perma 
nent and inviolable truth engendered by the principle of 
causality. But yet the fact of this confusion is real ; the 
errors which it involves, though local and temporary, are 
undeniable ; they must therefore be explained. And the 
explanation of them is very simple. As the principle of 
causality, though universal and necessary, is given us at 
first in the sequel of the consciousness of our own causal 
ity, it retains in its first applications, the marks of its 
origin, and the belief in the external world may, for a 
while, be accompanied with some assimilation, more or less 



196 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

vague, of external causes to ourselves. Add here, as in all 
cases, that it is the truth which serves as the basis of the 
error ; for this arbitrary and superstitious personification of 
external causes takes for granted the existence of external 
causes, that is to say, an application of the principle of 
causality. Induction, then, misleads the principle of caus 
ality : but it does not constitute it. 

Thus it is that a sound psychology, determined never to 
abandon the natural conceptions of the human mind, 
gradually ascends to their true origin ; while the systematic 
psychology of Locke, plunging into the question of the 
origin of our ideas and principles, before having deter 
mined with precision the characters with which they are 
actually marked ; and not admitting any other origin than 
sensation or reflection, thinks to find the origin of the 
idea of cause in sensation, in the simple spectacle of the 
external world ; then forced to abandon this insufficient 
origin, it goes from, sensation to reflection. But this new 
origin, which can indeed give us the idea of a voluntary 
and personal cause, can give us nothing but that idea, and 
not the principle of causality ; and of course it can not ex- 
p dln the origin of external purely efficient causes. If, 
however, we determine to rest in this narrow and insuffi 
cient origin, to what consequences are we driven ? We 
are obliged to confound two things: the necessary and 
universal result that we conceive of causes external to 
ourselves, with another fact purely accidental and transi 
tory that it happens to us sometimes to conceive of these 
causes as personal ; and thus we are, indeed, enabled to ex 
plain the knowledge of external causes by a simple induc 
tion from our own proper causality, and of course to 
explain the principle of causality by reflection or conscious 
ness, that is, by one of the two assumed origins of all 
knowledge. But as has been already shown, the concep 
tion of external causes as personal and endowed with 
consciousness, is nothing but an error found in the hi* 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 197 

fancy of the human reason, and not a law of the reason, 
and by no means affords an explanation of the legitimate 
belief, the universal and necessary belief of the human 
race. 

In concluding I should perhaps ask pardon for the length 
of this discussion ; but I owed it, imperfect as it still is, 
both to the importance of the subject, and to the memory 
of the great metaphysician whose very sagacity and pro 
foundness led him astray in the path of Locke. Gifted 
with extraordinary psychological insight, M. de Biran pen 
etrated so far into the intimacy of the fact of consciousness 
by which the first idea of cause is given, that he scarcely 
disengaged himself from that fact and that idea, and neg 
lected too much the principle of causality ; thus confound 
ing, as Locke had done, the antecedent of a principle with 
the principle itself; or when he attempted to explain the 
principle of causality, he explained it by a natural induc 
tion which transfers to the external world consciousness, 
the will, and all the peculiar attributes of his model; 
confounding in this way a particular, transient, and erro 
neous application of the principle of causality, with the 
principle in itself, the true, universal and necessary princi 
ple that is to say, in fine, confounding by a single error, 
not only the antecedent with the consequent, but also the 
consequent with the antecedent. The theory of M. de 
Biran is the development of the theory of Locke. It re 
produces that theory with more extent and profoundness, 
and exhausts at once both its merits and its defects. 



[NOTE. Browrfs Theory of Cause and Effect. It will be perceived 
that the discussion contained in the foregoing chapter, is a substantial 
refutation of the doctrine of Brown as exhibited in his Inquiry into the 
Relation of Cause and Effect. Brown defines the relation to be one of 
"immediate and invariable antecedence and consequence." A cause 
with him is nothing more that "an immediate and invariable anteced- 



19& ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

ent." This is only another form of resolving causation into succession. 
In critically examining Brown s theory, the epithets " immediate and in 
variable" may and should be thrown off. For Brown has no right to 
pro-assume that the only difference between causation and antecedence 
is a difference merely of degree, and not of kind. If the ideas of ante 
cedence and causation can be shown to be essentially different ; then no 
addition of the epithets " immediate and invariable" can change or ele 
vate the idea of an antecedent into that of a cause. The only proper 
question therefore is, whether antecedence and causation are at the bot 
tom the same idea. 

But this is a position contradicted by consciousness, by the usage of 
all languages, and by every thing to which the decision of the question 
can be referred. The necessity and universality of the idea of cause 
prove the contrary of Brown s position. They announce in the notion 
of cause a higher than a merely empirical character ; they prove that 
the mind connects with the phenomena of experience something not 
given by experience. It must therefore be regarded as a law of the 
mind that we should refer things, so far as they are successive phe 
nomena of perception, to one another in such a manner as that the one 
determines the other in respect to its essence and existence. A cause 
not merely precedes; it produces the effect. Consequently we must 
suppose an objective connection a real connection out of our minds 
answering to the subjective connection, or to the concatenation of phe 
nomena in our minds. 

If now the question be asked, how Brown came to confound anteced 
ence and causation, the answer is not difficult. It is undoubtedly true 
that the perception of some " antecedence" (some change or succession) 
is the occasion and the necessary condition of the mind forming the 
notion of cause, or of the evolution in the mind of the principle of caus 
ality ; to wit, that every phenomenon has a cause. Still it is to be 
noted that the perception of one single change is sufficient for the devel 
opment of this universal and necessary conviction. The moment a 
change is perceived the principle is developed and put in action, and 
with it the general notion of cause. Consequently Brown s epitheta 
"immediately and invariable" have no validity and no relevancy in ex 
plaining the origin or nature of the simple idea of cause ; but apply only 
to the use of the principle of causality in experience to the determinar 
tion of the cause of a phenomenon for which the mind necessarily sup 
poses a cause, even upon the first perception of it, and without any 
successive observations of "immediate and invariable antecedence." A 
single experience is sufficient to awaken the principle of causality; 
which is thenceforward of universal and necessary application, by the 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 199 

mind, to all phenomena. But in the application of this principle to 
particular phenomena, the mind may err. Several or many experienes 
may be necessary, in order to determine what is the precise cause of a 
given phenomenon. And here it is that the consideration of the im- 
mediateness and invariableness of a particular sequence comes in as the 
result of experience, as that which is phenomenal, and which deter 
mines us to the application of the idea of cause to the particular ante 
cedent in question. 

This distinction Brown has failed to perceive ; indeed, he seems to 
have had no distinct idea of the principle of causality ; and every thing 
plausible and true in his analysis of the notion of cause into that of 
" immediate and invariable antecedence," applies merely to the ulterior 
question, namely, what is the particular cause in a given phenomenon, 
or to the application of the necessary idea of cause and the principle of 
causality to particular phenomena. It seems, however, not once to 
have occurred to Brown, that without the previous principle of causal 
ity, potentially existing in the mind, ready to develop and apply itself 
to experience, there would be no ground or reason why the mind should 
be curious to observe and seek this " immediate and invariable anteced 
ence ;" consequently it would never be led to decide upon the particu 
lar cause in a given sequence ; for merely to see successive phenomena, 
is not the same thing as experimentally observing and deciding upon 
the immediate and invariable connection of particular phenomena. 

It should be remembered, too, that the " immediate and invariable" 
antecedence into which Brown resolves the idea of Cause, is not an 
absolute immediateness and invariableriess but relative merely to 
human observation ; so that the decisions which experience leads us to 
make in regard to the particular causes of particular phenomena, how 
ever satisfactory they may be to the mind, and however safe they may 
be for practical guidance of life, can never have the absolute character 
whicli belongs to the general idea of cause, or rather to the principle of 
causality. "We perceive a particular instance of change, or of anteced 
ence and consequence. The change, the antecedence and consequence, 
is all that is phenomenal, all that appears ; but it is not all that we be 
lieve. Besides the antecedence which we see, there is something else 
which we do not see but which we believe, namely a cause. That there 
is a cause of that change, is for us, a necessary and absolute truth. 
Whether that particular antecedent is the cause of that particular con 
sequence, may or may not be believed, according as observation shall 
lead us to decide ; but this belief does not express a necessary and ab 
solute truth as in the first case. TR.] 



CHAPTER V. 

OP THE IDEA OP GOOD AND EVIL. OP SIMPLE AND COM 
PLEX IDEAS. OP WORDS. 

Examination of the Second Book of the Essay on the Human Under 
standing continued. Of the idea of Good and Evil. Refutation. 
Conclusions of the Second Book. Of the formation and of the mech 
anism of ideas in the understanding. Of simple and complex ideas. 
Of the activity and passivity of the mind in the acquisition of ideas. 
The most general attributes of ideas. Of the Association of ideas. 
Examination of the Third Book of the Essay on the Understanding, 
concerning words. Credit due to Locke. Examination of the follow 
ing questions: 1. Do words derive their first origin from other words 
significant of sensible ideas ? 2. Is the signification of words purely 
arbitrary ? 3. Are general ideas nothing but words ? Of Nominal 
ism and Realism. 4. Are words the sole cause of error, and is all 
science only a well-constructed language ? Examination of the Third 
Book concluded. 

IT is an undeniable fact, that when we have done right 
or wrong, when we have obeyed the law of justice, or have 
broken it, we judge that we merit either reward or punish 
ment. It is moreover a fact that we do indeed receive re 
ward or punishment ; 1, in the approbation of .conscience 
or in the bitterness of remorse ; 2, in the esteem or blame 
of our fellow-men, who, themselves also moral beings, 
judge also of right and wrong ; and who punish and re 
ward according to the nature of our actions, sometimes by 
the moral sentence of their esteem or blame, sometimes by 
physical rewards and punishments, which positive laws, the 
legitimate interpreters of the law of nature, hold ready for 
actions which are noble, or for faults and crimes ; 3, and 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 201 

finally, if we raise our thoughts beyond this world, if we 
conceive of God as we ought, not only as the author of the 
physical world, but as the Father of the moral world, as 
the very substance of good and the moral law, we can not 
but conceive that God ought also to hold ready rewards 
and punishments for those who have fulfilled or broken the 
law. But suppose that there is neither good nor evil, 
neither justice nor injustice in itself; suppose there is no 
law: there can then be no such thing as merit or de 
merit in having broken or obeyed it ; there is no place 
for reward or punishment ; there is no ground for peace of 
conscience, nor for the pains of remorse ; there is no 
ground for the approbation or the disapprobation of our 
fellow-men, for their esteem or their contempt; there is no 
ground for the punishments inflicted by society in this life, 
nor in the other, for those appointed by the Supreme Legis 
lator. The idea of reward and punishment rests, then, upon 
that of merit or demerit, which rests upon that of law. 
Now what course does Locke take ? He deduces the idea 
of right and w r rong, of the moral law, and all the rules of 
duty, from the fear and the hope of rewards and punish 
ments, human or divine ; that is to say (laying aside 
every other consideration, and going on the ground of 
scientific method), he grounds the principle upon conse 
quence ; he confounds, not as before the antecedent with 
the consequent, but the consequent with the antecedent. 
And from whence comes this confusion ? From that same 
source of all the confusion we have so many times signal 
ized, the premature inquiry after causes, before a sufficient 
study of eifects, the inquiry after the origin of the idea of 
right and wrong, before carefully collecting the attributes 
and all the attributes of this idea. Permit me to dwell a 
moment upon this important topic. 

First, then, the most superficial observation, provided it 
be impartial, easily demonstrates, that in the human mind, 
in its present actual development, there is the idea of right 



202 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

and of wrong, altogether distinct the one from the other 
It is a fact, that in the presence of certain actions, reason, 
qualifies them as good or bad, just or unjust, honest or dis 
honest. And it is not merely in the select circle of the 
enlightened, that reason puts forth this judgment : there 
is not a man, ignorant or instructed, civilized or savage, 
provided he be a rational and moral being, who does not 
pass the same judgment. As the principle of causality errs 
and rectifies itself in its application without ceasing to ex 
ist, so the distinction between right and wrong may be in 
correctly applied, may vary in regard to particular objects, 
and may become clearer and more correct with time, with 
out ceasing to be with all men the same thing at the bot 
tom. It is an universal conception of reason, .and hence it 
is found in ah 1 languages, those products and faithful 
images of the mind. Not only is this distinction univer 
sal, but it is a necessary conception. In vain does the rea 
son, after having once conceived it, attempt to deny it, or 
to call in question its truth. It can not. One can not at 
will regard the same action as just and unjust ; these two 
ideas baffle every attempt to commute them, the one for the 
other ; their objects may change, but never their nature. 
Still further : reason can not conceive the distinction be 
tween right and wrong, just and unjust, without instantly 
conceiving that the one ought to be done, and the other 
ought not to be done. The conception of right and wrong 
instantly gives that of duty, of law ; and as the one is univer 
sal and necessary, the other is equally so. Now a law 
necessary for the reason in respect to action, is, for a 
rational but free agent, a simple obligation, but it is an ab 
solute obligation. Duty obliges us, though without forcing 
us ; if we can violate it, we can not deny it ; and accord 
ingly, even when the feebleness of the liberty and the as 
cendency of passion, make the action, as it were, falsify the 
law, yet reason, independent, asserts fche violated law as an 
inviolable law, and imposes it still with supreme authority 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 203 

upon the wayward conduct as its imprescriptible rule. The 
sentiment of reason, and of moral obligation which reason 
reveals and imposes, is moral consciousness, or conscience 
properly so called. 

Observe distinctly, however, with what it is that obligation 
lias to do. It refers to right doing ; it bears upon no other 
point, but there it is absolute. It is, then, independent of 
every foreign consideration ; it has nothing to do with the 
facilities or difficulties which its fulfillment may encounter, 
nor with the consequences it may entail, with pleasure or 
pain, that is, with happiness or misery, that is again, with 
any motive of utility whatever. For pleasure and pain, 
happiness and misery, are nothing but objects of sensibility ; 
while moral good, and moral obligation, are conception* 
of the reason. Utility is but an accident, which may, or 
may not be ; duty is a principle. 

Now is not right doing always useful to the agent and 
to others ? That is another question, to answer which, we 
no longer appeal to reason, but to experience. And does 
experience always answer in the affirmative ? Even if it 
does, and if the useful be always inseparable from the good, 
yet the good and the useful are none the less distinct in 
themselves ; and it is not on the ground of utility that vir 
tue becomes obligatory, and that it obtains universal ven 
eration and admiration. It is admired ; therefore it is not 
taken solely as useful ; for admiration is not the expression 
of interest.* 

* On the Moral Phenomenon of Admiration, see Series I., Yol. II., 
Lect. XVII., p. 214. [The passage referred to is as follows: 

"Admiration is a sentiment essentially disinterested. Consider 
whether there is any interest in the world that has the power of awak 
ening your admiration for any thing, or for any person. If your interest 
prompts it, you can feign admiration ; but you can not feel it. A tyrant 
impending death may constrain you to seem to admire, but not in reality 
to admire. Affection even does not determine admiration; while a trait 
of heroism, even hi an enemy, commands it, and forces it from us in spite 
of ourselves."] 



204 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

If the good were nothing but the useful, the admiration 
which virtue excites would always be in proportion to its 
utility. But such is not the fact. The most useful virtuous 
act can never be so much so as many natural phenomena, 
which every where diffuse and maintain life. But who 
ever experiences for the sun, with its influence so benefi 
cent, the sentiment of admiration and respect which the 
most unproductive act of virtue inspires ? It is because 
the sun is nothing but useful; while the virtuous act, 
whether useful or not, is the fulfillment of a law to which 
the agent, whom we denominate virtuous and whom we 
admire, is voluntarily conformed. We may derive advan 
tage from an action without admiring it, as we may admire 
it without deriving advantage from it. The foundation of 
admiration, then, is not the utility which the admired ob 
ject procures to others ; still less is it the utility of the 
action to him who performs it. The virtuous action would 
otherwise be nothing but a lucky calculation ; we might 
indeed congratulate the author, but we should not be 
tempted to admire him. Mankind demands of its heroes 
some other merit than that of a sagacious merchant ; and 
far from the utility of the agent and his personal interest 
being the ground and the measure of admiration, it is a 
fact that other things being equal, the phenomenon of ad 
miration diminishes or increases in proportion to the sacri 
fices which the virtuous action costs.* But if you want a 

* On Sacrifice, as the Ground and Measure of Approbation, see Series 
I., Vol. IV., Lecture XV., p. 170. 

[The passage here referred to is in Cousin s Lectures on the History of 
Moral Philosophy in the Eighteenth Century, and in the volume devoted 
to the critical account of the Scottish School. Lecture XV. is taken up 
with the moral and political theory of Hutcheson, whom Cousin rightly 
calls the true founder of the Scottish School. The theory of HutchesoD 
on virtue is : 1, that the principle of virtue is benevolence ; 2. that the 
constituent quality of a virtuous action is, that it serves the public good 
In regard to the first point, Cousin shows that this theory rests indeed 
on a real fact, benevolence as a natural and disinterested sentiment ; buJ 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 2Jo 

manifest proof that virtue is not founded upon the personal 
interest of him who practices it, take the example I have 
given on another occasion, of a generous man whose virtue 

that it corrupts this fact by exaggerating it, and by recognizing no other 
virtue than benevolence. Whereas, there are many other virtues which 
can not by any analysis be resolved into benevolence; and consequently 
benevolence is not the sole principle of virtue. Next, as to the con 
stituent quality of a virtuous action, Cousin shows that the theory of 
Hutcheson on this point falls to the ground along with his theory on the 
first point ; as benevolence is not the sole object of moral approbation, 
and the sole foundation of virtue, so the essence of a virtuous action can 
not consist in its property of subserving the general welfare. 

But the particular passage to which reference is made above is a 
criticism on a statement of Hutcheson as to what the perfection of vir 
tue consists in, to the effect that a virtuous action is the product of two 
factors, the benevolence and the ability of the agent ; and consequently 
that the moral importance of an action is in a ratio compounded of the 
two factors : 

"On which," continues Cousin, "I propound for Hutcheson the fol 
lowing problem : 

" Two men have given to an unfortunate person the same sum of 
.noney; they have the same fortune and the same benevolence: What 
is the comparative valuation of the moral importance of these two 
actions ? 

It is evident by the terms of the calculation before laid down, that the 
moral importance of the two actions is mathematically the same. 

Nothing more certain, it seems, yet nothing more false. 

In fact the calculation has forgotten one small item, to wit, the greater 
or less sacrifice made by one or the other agent. Both were equally rich 
and equally benevolent ; but the first man, young and handsome, had 
intended to use that sum of money in gratifying certain refined and 
charming tastes which he has not renounced without regret ; the other 
man, while equally benevolent and equally generous, had not at that 
time the least use for the sum ; he has given it with the same heart, 
but with far less sacrifice, while the former, without feeling a more 
lively sentiment of benevolence, has had to put a much greater force 
upon himself. This greater or less self-denial, this sacrifice more or less 
painful, does it go for nothing, ye mathematicians, in the moral 
character of the action ? You consider nothing but the product, and 
you say: for society and the human race, the action is on both sides the 
same. You are also good enough to make account of the internal sen 



200 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

proves his ruin instead of being an advantage to him; and 
to prevent all idea of calculation, suppose a man who sacri 
fices his life for the truth, who dies upon the scaffold, in 
the flower of his age, for the cause of justice. Here there 
is no future, no chance of advantage, at least in this world ; 
and of course no calculation, no possible self-interest. This 

t).ment of benevolence ; that now is something; but it is not enough; 
aiid the voice of the human race, the cry of conscience, proclaim, in 
spite of your calculus, that one of these two actions is better than the 
other, because it has cost more. It has not cost more money, it is true, 
bat it has cost more effort. This effort, see there a new datum, which 
you have neglected, and which, introduced into your equation, deranges 
it a little I 

Thus, two actions precisely alike [in form], performed with the same 
ability and the same benevolence, have a different moral value, according 
to the greater or less sacrifice or effort which they have cost : the fact 
is certain ; here is another which is not less so, and which disturbs the 
arithmetic of Hutcheson still more. 

A man with a certain ability and a certain benevolence does a certain 
amount of good ; another, with the same ability and a little less benev 
olence, does a less amount of good, but with incomparably more effort, 
whether because he is naturally less generous, much as he may wish to 
be equally so, or whether because he had been planning an altogether 
different employment of his money, more agreeable to his heart: what 
is the relative value of the two actions? To the eyes of Hutcheson s 
arithmetic that has the most which contains the greater amount of 
good done to others. To the eyes of God and of conscience, the con 
trary is evident: the most virtuous person is not he who has given the 
most, but he who has given with the most devotion, the most sacrifice. 

Suppose that a man does to other men immense good, from the over 
flowing of a generous disposition, without any sacrifice, without having 
to struggle against any temptation, against any desire less noble and 
less pure : this wonderful being is an angel upon earth, but he is not 
a virtuous man. He has received from heaven magnificent endow 
ments ; but he has not added to them this special possession which is 
not an endowment, but which must be acquired by the sweat of his 
face, to wit, virtue. 

Sacrifice, struggle with one s self, is therefore not only a new element 
which ought to be introduced among the legitimate data of the problem 
respecting the moral importance of actions ; it is the first of all these 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 207 

man, if virtue is nothing but utility, is a fool, and mankind 
who admire him are delirious. This delirium is neverthe 
less a iact, an undeniable fact. It demonstrates, then, un 
answerably, that in the human mind, such as it has pleased 
its author to make it, the idea of right and wrong, of virtue 
and vice, is one thing, and the idea of utility, of pleasure, 
and pain, of happiness and misery, is another thing.* 

daia it is the fundamental and essential element which measures, and 
almost by itself alone constitutes moral importance. This moral import 
ance is not therefore, as Hutcheson pretends, in the amount of good 
done, and in a ratio compounded of the agent s benevolence and ability. 
In fact, the ability of an agent, his talents, his fortune even, do not 
belong to him: they are almost never his own achievement; they con 
fer therefore no merit which is properly his own. His benevolence is 
still less his own : it is instinctive and involuntary ; its liveliness is a 
grace of nature, and its feebleness is a defect rather than a vice. From 
whence it follows that if there were no other factors in goodness, there 
goodness is a result in which the will has no part, and consequently the 
act which produces it is without merit, that is to say, at bottom there 
is no virtue, but a certain amount of advantage, which the public re 
ceives with great pleasure, but without owing to their author any 
sentiment which resembles moral approbation, esteem and admiration." 
-TE.] 

* History of Modern Philosophy, Lecture VIII., p. 197, and First 
Series, Vol. I. Course of 1817, Lecture XVIII., p. 313, and Vol. II., 
Lecture XXIIL, p. 355. [The first reference is to a discussion of the 
doctrine of Epicurus concerning virtue. The argument there given goes, 
however, upon the supposition that there is no future life. To the ar 
gument as here given, it might be objected that on the hypothesis of a 
future life, the man who sacrifices his life on the scaffold for the cause 
of truth may make a very prudent calculation for his best interest. 
Cousin s answer to this objection may be found in the passage included 
in the second reference ; where he says that, if the hopes of another life 
be admitted as the motive for the self-sacrifice in the case supposed, that 
involves the admission also of the idea of merit and demerit as the found 
ation of those hopes, and consequently of the idea of right and wrong, 
of obligation, in short, of virtue as something different in essence from 
utility, as something absolute, that is to say, in fine, involves the. sub 
version of the utilitarian theory. This is sufficient answer, if the rewards 
and punishments of a future life necessarily imply a moral government 



208 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

I have now shown the essential and metaphysical differ 
ence of these ideas. It remains to show their relation. It 
is certain that the idea of virtue is distinct from that of 
happiness ; but I ask, if when you meet a virtuous man, a 
moral agent who, free to obey or not to obey a severe law, 
obeys it at the sacrifice of his dearest affections I ask if 
this man, this moral agent, besides the admiration which 
attaches to the act, does not inspire you with a sentiment 
of good-will which attaches to his person? Is it not true 
that you are disposed, if happiness Avere in your hands, to 
dispense it to this virtuous man ? Is it not true that he 
appears to you worthy to be happy, and that in respect to 
him, happiness does not appear to you solely as an arbi 
trary idea, but a right? At the same time, when the 
guilty man is rendered wretched, as the effect of his vices, 
do we not judge that he deserves it? Do we not judge, 
in general, that it would be unjust for vice to be happy 
and virtue miserable ? This is evidently the common 
opinion of all men ; and this opinion is not only universal, 
it is also a necessary conception. In vain does reason 
endeavor to conceive vice as worthy of happiness ; it can 
not succeed in the attempt. It can not help demand 
ing an intimate harmony between happiness and virtue. 

But if future rewards and punishments are attached to obeying or dis 
obeying in this life the commands of an arbitrary omnipotent Ruler, the 
force of the objection is not removed; and Paleys definition of virtue as 
consisting "in obedience to God for the sake of everlasting happiness," 
might hold good. But such a monstrous supposition can not be made. 
Human reason can not conceive of happiness as the supreme end either 
for God or for his rational creatures ; it can not conceive of an arbitrary 
God. or a non-moral administration of the universe. As to the rest it is 
undeniable that though virtue is doubtless in the long run prudent, yet 
prudence is not the essence of virtue. He who obeys the law of duty 
merely for the advantage he expects, does not obey it at all, except in 
mere form, and can never gain reward of true virtue, that virtue which 
obeys the law of right because it is right, and therein gets, as only 
therein it is possible to get, its just reward. TR.] 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 209 

And in this, we are not sensitive beings who aspire after 
happiness, nor sympathetic beings who desire it for our 
fellow-creatures ; we are rational and moral beings, who 
pass such a judgment in respect to others, as well as in re 
spect to ourselves ; and when facts do not accord with our 
judgments, we do not, on that account, reverse our nidg- 
ments ; we maintain them invincibly, in spite of all facts 
at variance with them. In a word, the idea of merit and 
demerit is for the reason inseparable from that of the 
moral law fulfilled or violated.* 

Wherever virtue and vice receive their reward and pun 
ishment, there, in our conceptions, is a state of moral order ; 
and where vice and virtue are without punishment and re 
ward, or where they are equally treated, there, on the 
other hand, is a state of disorder. Kewards and punish 
ments are different, according to the cases which it is not 
necessary here to determine and classify with perfect pre 
cision. ."When vicious actions do not pass beyond the 
sphere of the person who commits them, we do not impose 
upon them any other punishment than blame or disesteem. 
We punish them by opinion. When they exceed that 
sphere, and affect the rights of others, then they fall under 
positive laws, and those laws penal. These two sorts of 

* [" Not only do we unceasingly aspire after happiness, as sensitive 
beings, but when we have done right, we judge, as intelligent and 
moral beings, that we are worthy of happiness. This is the necessary 
principle of merit and demerit the origin and foundation of all our 
ideas of reward and punishment a principle perpetually confounded 
either with the desire of happiness, or with the moral law. 

" Hence the question of the sovereign good summum bonum never 
yet solved. A single solution has been sought for a complex question, 
from not comprehending the two principles capable of solving it. The 
Epicurean solution : satisfaction of the desire for happiness. The Stoic 
solution : fulfillment of the moral law. 

The true solution is in the connection and harmony of virtue, and 
happiness as merited by it ; for the two principles are not equivalent ; 
virtue is the antecedent. It is not alone the sole and sovereign good ; 
but it is the chief good." Fragmens Philosophiques. Tn.l 



210 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

punishment, moral and material, have through all time and 
every where been inflicted upon vicious agents. Without 
any doubt it is useful to society to inflict disgrace upon the 
violator of moral order ; without doubt it is useful to soci 
ety to punish effectually ,the individual who attacks the 
foundations of social order. This consideration of utility 
is real ; it is weighty ; but I say that it is not the only one, 
it is not the first, it is only accessory, and that the immedi 
ate basis of all penalty is the idea of the essential merit and 
demerit of actions, the general idea of order, which impe 
riously demands that the merit and demerit of actions, 
which is a law of reason and of order, should be realized in 
a society that pretends to be rational and well ordered. 
On this ground, and on this ground alone, of realizing this 
law of reason and of order, the two powers of society, opin 
ion and government, appear faithful to their primary law. 
Then comes up utility, the immediate utility of repressing 
evil, and the indirect utility of preventing it, by ^example, 
that is, by fear. But this consideration of the utility of 
punishment is not a sufficient basis for it. Suppose, in fact, 
that there is nothing good or evil in itself, and conse 
quently neither essential merit or demerit; by what right, 
then, I ask, do you disgrace a man, or make him ascend 
the scaffold, or put him in irons for life, for the mere ad 
vantage of others, when the action of the man is neither 
good nor bad, and merits itself neither blame nor punish 
ment? Suppose that it is not absolutely right, just in 
itself, to blame this man or to punish him, then the justice 
of infamy and of glory, and of every species of reward and 
punishment are at an end. Still further, I maintain that 
if punishment has no other ground than utility, then even 
its utility is destroyed ; for in order that a punishment may 
be useful, it is requisite : 1, that he upon whom it is in 
flicted, endowed as he is with the principle of merit and 
demerit, should regard himself as justly punished, and 
accept his punishment with a suitable disposition ; 2, that 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 211 

the spectators, equally endowed with the principle of merit 
and demerit, should regard the culprit as justly punished 
according to the measure of his crime, and should apply to 
themselves by anticipation the same justice in case of crime, 
and should be kept in harmony with the social order by 
the view of its legitimate penalties. Hence arises the util 
ity of examples of punishment whether moral or physical. 
But take away its foundation in justice, and you destroy 
the utility of punishment ; you excite indignation and ab 
horrence, instead of awakening penitence in the victim, or 
teaching a salutary lesson to the public. You array cour 
age, sympathy, every thing noble and elevated in human 
nature, on the side of the victim ; you excite all energetic 
spirits against society and its artificial laws. Thus the 
utility of punishment is itself grounded in its justice, in 
stead of its justice being grounded in its utility. Punish 
ment is the sanction of the law, and not its foundation. 
The idea of right and wrong is grounded only on itself, on 
reason which reveals it. It is the condition of the idea of 
merit and demerit, which is the condition of the idea of 
reward and punishment ; and this latter idea is to the two 
former, but especially to the idea of right and wrong, in 
the relation of the consequence to its principle.* 

* See First Series, particularly Yol. II, Part III., Leet.XYIL, p. 218; 
Lect. XXI. and XXII., p. 341. See also translation of Plato, Vol. III. 
argument of the Gorgias. [We translate the passage which relates most 
directly to this subject; it will be read with interest: 

" Publicists still seek for the foundation of penalty. Some, who regard 
themselves as enlightened politicians, find in it the utility of punishment 
for those who witness it, who are deterred from crime by its threatenings, 
and its preventive efficacy. This is indeed one of the effects of punish 
ment, but not its foundation. Others, through affectation of greater 
humanity, wish to consider the legitimacy of punishment as grounded 
wholly on its utility to him who endures it, by its corrective efficacy. 
This, again, is certainly one of the possible effects of punishment, but not 
its foundation; for in order that the punishment be corrective, it is 
necessary that it should be submitted to as just. "We are therefore 
always compelled to return to the idea of justice. Justice is the true 



212 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

This relation which embraces all moral order, subsists 
inviolably, even when we pass beyond the sphere of this 
life and of human society, to that of religion and of a world 
where God reigns supreme, where destiny gives place to 
the pure action of Providence, where fact and right are 
the same thing. The idea of merit and demerit, transfer 
red as it were beyond this world, is the basis of the con 
ception of punishments and rewards in the future life. It 
is not in the caprice of a being superior to us in power, 
that we rest the legitimacy of the retributions of another 
life. Take away the justice of God, and his power, abso 
lute as it is, would no longer appear to us a sufficient 
foundation for rewards and punishments. Take away Jiis 
justice, and what remains ? A government, but no law ; 
and instead of the sublime realization of the idea of merit 
and demerit, the future life is nothing but the threat of a 
superior force against a feeble being, fated to sustain the 
part of a sufferer and a victim. In heaven, then, as upon 

foundation of punishment ; personal and social utility is only a conse 
quence. It is an undeniable fact, that after every wrong act, the unjust 
man thinks, and can not but think, that he is ill-deserving, that is, is 
worthy of punishment. In the intelligence, the idea of punishment cor 
responds to that of injustice: and when the injustice has been committed 
in the social sphere, the punishment ought to be inflicted by society. 
Society can do it only because it ought. The right here has no other 
source than the duty to inflict duty the most strict, the most evident 
and the most sacred without which this pretended right would be 
nothing but that of force, that is to say an atrocious injustice, even 
though it be to the moral advantage of him who received it, and a salu 
tary spectacle for the people ; which in fact could not then be the case, 
for the punishment would then find no sympathy, no echo, neither in the 
public conscience, nor in that of the individual punished. Punishment 
is not just because it is useful, as a preventive or a corrective; but it is 
useful in either or both these ways, because it is just. This theory of 
punishment, by demonstrating the falseness, the incomplete and exclu 
sive character of the two theories which divide publicists, completes and 
explains them, and gives to both a center and legitimate basis." Cousin s 
Plato, Vol. III., p. 167-169. TR.] 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 213 

the earth, in heaven much more than upon the earth, the 
sanction of law is not the foundation of it ; reward and 
punishment are deduced from merit and demerit, from 
right and wrong ; the former do not constitute the latter. 
Let us now apply to this subject the distinctions we have 
before established. We have distinguished the logical or 
der of ideas from the order of their acquisition. In the 
first case, one idea is the logical condition of another when 
it explains the other ; in the second case, one idea is the 
chronological condition of another, when it arises in the 
human mind before the other. ISTow I say in respect to 
the question before us, that the idea of justice, the idea of 
the moral law obeyed or broken, is: 1, the logical condi 
tion of the idea of merit or demerit, which without it is 
incomprehensible and inadmissible ; 2, the antecedent, the 
chronological condition of the acquisition of the idea of 
merit and demerit, which certainly never would have 
arisen in the mind, if previously it had not received the 
idea of justice and injustice, right and wrong, good and 
evil. Now, Locke, after having frequently confounded, 
as we have seen, the logical condition of an idea with its 
chronological condition, confounds at once in regard to 
this subject, both the logical and chronological condition 
of an idea with the idea itself, and even with a conse 
quence of that idea ; for the idea of reward and punish 
ment is only a consequence of the idea of merit and demerit, 
which in its turn is only a consequence of the idea of right 
and wrong, which is the supreme principle, beyond which 
it is impossible to ascend. Locke reverses this order. 
Thus, instead of laying down first the idea of right and 
wrong, then that of merit and demerit, and then that of 
reward and punishment, it is the reward and punishment, 
that is to say, the pleasure and the pain that result from 
right and wrong, which, according to Locke, is the found- 
ation of moral good and evil, .and of the moral rectitude 
of actions. 



214 ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 

B. II. Ch. XXVIII. 5 : " Good and evil, as ha th been 
shown, B. II. Ch. XX. 2, and Ch.XXI. 42, are nothing 
but pleasure or pain, or that which occasions, or procures 
pleasure or pain to us. Moral good and evil, then, is only 
the conformity or disagreement of our voluntary actions to 
some law, whereby good or evil is drawn on us by the will 
and power of the law-maker ; which good and evil, pleasure 
or pain, attending our observance or breach of the law, by 
the decree of the law-maker, is what we call reward and 
punishment." 

Locke then distinguishes three laws or rules, namely, 
the divine law, the civil law, and the law of opinion, or 
reputation. 

Ibid. 7 : " By the relation they bear to the first of 
these, men judge whether their actions are sins or duties ; 
by the second, whether they be criminal or innocent ; and 
by the third, whether they be /virtues or vices." 

Ibid. 8 : " Divine law the measure of sin and duty. 
First, the divine law, whereby I mean that law which God 
has set to the actions of men, whether promulgated to 
them by the light of nature or the voice of revelation. 
That God has given a rule whereby men should govern 
themselves, I think there is no-body so brutish as to deny. 
He has a right to do it ; we are his creatures : he has good 
ness and wisdom to direct our actions to that which is best ; 
and he has power to enforce it by rewards and punish 
ments, of infinite weight and duration in another life ; for 
nobody can take us out of his hands. This is the only true 
touchstone of moral rectitude, and by comparing them to 
this law, it is that men judge of the most considerable 
moral good or evil of their actions ; that is, whether as 
sins or duties, they are like to procure them happiness or 
misery, from the hands of the Almighty." 

Here, then, the punishments and rewards of a future life 
arc declared the sole touchstone, the sole measure of the 
rectitude of our actions. But suppose that the law which 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 213 

God has given us were not just in itself, independently of 
the rewards and punishments attached to it : the act which 
obeys or violates it would then be neither good nor bad in 
itself; and the divine will would then be seen in the 
strange aspect of attaching to a law indifferent in itself, 
and in its fulfillment or violation, rewards the most alluring, 
and punishments the most dreadful. These promises and 
these threatenings, moreover, being addressed merely to 
the sensibility, which is the subject of pleasure and pain, 
and not to the reason or conscience, might excite in us fear 
or hope, but never the emotion of reverence, nor the senti 
ment of duty. And it is of no avail to say, as Locke has, 
that God has the right to do so, to establish, namely, such 
a law, though it is in itself indifferent, because we are his 
creatures ; for that is without meaning, unless it be that he 
is the most powerful and we the weakest, and that would 
be to appeal to the right of the strongest. In general this 
theory tends to make God an arbitrary king, to substitute 
the Divine Will and Power in place of Divine Reason and 
Wisdom. It is a doctrine concerning God for the senses, 
and not for the reason ; made for slaves and brutes, not 
for intelligent and free beings.* 

* [In his Introduction to Plato s Euthyphron, Cousin has the follow 
ing remarks upon the Divine Government : 

" God being goodness, or rectitude itself, the very substance of moral 
order, it follows that all moral truths refer to him, as radii to a center, as 
modifications to the subject which is the ground of their existence and 
which they manifest. So far therefore from being in contradiction, 
morality and religion are intimately connected with each other, both in 
the unity of their real principle and in that of the human mind which 
simultaneously forms the conception of them. But when Anthropomor 
phism, degrading theology to the drama, makes of the Eternal a God foi 
the theater, tyrannical and passionate, who from the height of his om 
nipotence arbitrarily decides what is right and what is wrong, it is then 
that philosophical criticism may and ought, in the interest of moral 
truths, to take authority from the immediate obligation which charac 
terises them, to establish them upon their own basis, independently of 
every foreign circumstance, independently oven of their relation to their 



216 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

Ibid. 9 : " Civil late the measure of crimes and inno 
cence. Secondly, the civil law, the rule set by the common 
wealth to the actions of those who belong to it, is another 
rule to which men refer their actions, to judge whether 
they be criminal or no. This law nobody overlooks ; the 
rewards and punishments which enforce it being ready at 
hand, and suitable to the power that makes it ; which is 
the force of the commonwealth, engaged to protect the 
lives, liberties, and possessions of those who live according 
to its laws, and has power to take away life, liberty, or 
goods, from him who disobeys, which is the punishment of 
offenses committed against this law." 

Unquestionably society has this right ; this right is even 
a duty for it ; but it is so only upon one condition, the 

primitive source. Such is the particular point of view in which the 
Euthyphron is to be regarded. Socrates eagerly acknowledges that 
there is an essential harmony between morality and religion, that every 
thing which is right is pleasing to him whom we are behooved to con 
ceive as the type and substance of eternal reason. But he inquires 
why right, the morally good, is pleasing to God; and if it might not be 
otherwise ; if it is not possible that wrong, the morally evil, might be 
pleasing to him ? No. Why is it then that the good can not but be 
pleasing to God? It is, in the last analysis, solely because it is good; 
all other reasons that can be given always presuppose and return to 
this. It must therefore be admitted that good is not such because it 
pleases G-od, but it pleases God because it is good ; and consequently it 
is not in religious doctrines that we are to look for the primitive title of 
the legitimacy of moral truths. These truths, like all others, legitimate 
themselves, and need no other authority than that of Keason which per 
ceives and proclaims them. Reason is for itself its own sanction. This 
conception of the morally good, or to speak in the language of the time 
of Socrates, this conception of the holy in itself, disengaged from the ex 
ternal forms in which it may be clothed, from the circumstances which 
accompany it, and even from the necessary consequences which are de 
rived from it and considered in regard to what is peculiar and absolute 
in it, in its immediate grandeur and beauty, is an example of an IDEA 
in the system of Plato." Cousin s Plato, Argument of the Euthyphron, 
Vol. L TR.] 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 217 

condition namely, that the laws which it passes should be 
just; for suppose that the law established by society bo 
unjust, the violation of this law ceases to be unjust, and 
then the punishment of an act not unjust which transgresses 
an unjust law, is itself injustice. Take away, I repeat, the 
previous fitness and justness of the law, and you destroy 
the fitness and justice of the punishment. Punishment 
loses all its character of morality, and retains only that of 
mere physical force, which can not, as Hobbes very well 
perceived, be too absolute or too formidable ; since it can 
not subsist nor make itself regarded, except from the fear 



it inspires.* 



Ibid. 10: "Philosophical law the measure of virtue 
and vice. Thirdly, the law of opinion or reputation. 
Virtue and vice are names pretended and supposed every 
where to stand for actions in their own nature right and 
wrong ; and so far as they really are so applied, they are 
coincident with the divine law above mentioned. But yet 
whatever is pretended, this is visible, that these names, 
virtue and vice, in the particular instance of their applica 
tion, through the several nations and societies of men in 
the world, are constantly attributed only to such actions, 
as in each country and society are in reputation or dis 
credit. Nor is it- to be thought strange that men every 
where should give the name of virtue to those actions, 
which among them are judged praiseworthy ; and call that 
vice, which they account blamable ; since otherwise they 
would condemn themselves, if they should think any thino- 
right, to which they allowed not commendation, and any 
thing wrong, which they let pass without blame. Thus 
the measure of what is every where called and esteemed 
virtue and vice, is the approbation or dislike, praise or 
blame, which by a secret and tacit consent establishes itself 
in the several societies, tribes and clubs of men in the 

* Series I., Vol. III., Lecture IX. [Cousin s Examination of the Politi 
cal Principles of Hobbes. TR.] 

10 



218 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

world ; whereby several actions come to find credit or 
disgrace among them according to the judgment, maxims, 
or fashions, of that place. For though men uniting to 
politic societies, have resigned up to the public, the dis 
posing of all their force, so that they can not employ it 
against any fellow-citizen, any further than the law of the 
country directs, yet they retain still the power of think 
ing well or ill, approving or disapproving the actions of 
those whom they live among and converse with ; and by 
this approbation and dislike, they establish among them 
selves what they call virtue and vice." 

Ibid. 11: " That this is the common measure of virtue 
and vice, will appear to any one who considers, that 
though that passes for vice in one country which is counted 
virtue, or at least not vice in another, yet every where 
virtue and praise, vice and blame go together." 

Upon which point Locke refers to ah 1 pagan antiquity, 
which incited to virtue by the allurement of glory. He 
even cites a passage of St. Paul, which he forces aside from 
its natural sense, to get at the conclusion, that there is no 
other measure of virtue than good or bad fame. Read also 
his twelfth section, in which the " enforcements" of this 
law are stated to be " commendation and discredit." 

But you perceive that the same is true in regard to 
opinion, the pretended philosophical law, as in regard to 
public punishments under the civil law, and in regard to 
the punishments of another life under the divine law. 
Suppose that virtue is not virtue in itself, and that it is 
praise and approbation which make it such, it is clear that 
morality is no longer any thing ; there is no longer a law ; 
there is nothing but arbitrary customs local and changing ; 
there is no longer any thing but fashion and opinion. 
Now, either opinion is nothing but a lying sound, or it is 
the echo of the public conscience ; and then it is an effect, 
and not a cause ; its legitimacy and its power reside in the 
strength of the sentiment of right and wrong. Bit to 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 219 

elevate the effect to the rank of a cause, to establish right 
and wrong upon opinion,* is to destroy right and wrong ; 
it is to confound and vitiate virtue, by making fear its only 
sanction ; it is to make courtiers and not virtuous men. Pop 
ular applause is one of the sweetest things in the world, but 
only when it is the reflection of one s own conscience, and 
not the price of complaisance ; when it is acquired by a 
series of actions truly virtuous, by constancy to one s 
character, fidelity to one s principles and to one s friends 
in the common service of one s country. Glory is the 
crown, not the foundation of virtue. Duty does not 
measure itself by reward. Without doubt it is easier to 
perform it on a conspicuous theater, and with the applause 
of the crowd ; but it is not at all lessened in the shade ; it 
does not perish in ignominy ; there, as every where, it is 
one and the same, inviolable and obligatory. 

The conclusion to which we perpetually recur, is, that 
here likewise, Locke obviously takes the consequence for 
the principle, the effect for the cause. And you will ob 
serve that this confusion is a necessity of his system. This 
system admits no idea that is not derived from reflection 
or from sensation. Reflection being here out of the ques 
tion, it is to sensation that Locke has recourse ; and as 
sensation can not explain the idea which mankind have 
of good and evil, the object is to find an idea more or less 
resembling it, which can come from sensation, and take 
the place of the former. Now this idea is that of punish 
ment and reward, which resolves itself into that of pleas 
ure and pain, happiness and misery, or in general, into the 
idea of utility. This confusion, to repeat once more, was 
necessary to the system of Locke; and it saves it; but 
dispel the confusion, re-establish the facts in their real value 
and true order, and the system of Locke is overthrown. 



* This is the fundamental error of Smith s Theory of the Moral Senti 
inents. 



220 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

Let us see where we are. Locke has tried his system 
upon a number of particular ideas, to wit : the idea of 
space, the idea of time, the idea of the infinite, of personal 
identity, of substance, of cause, of good and evil ; imposing 
upon himself the task of explaining all these ideas by sensa 
tion and by reflection. We have followed Locke upon all 
these points chosen by himself; and upon all these points, 
an attentive examination has demonstrated that not one 
of these ideas can be explained by sensation or reflection, 
except under the condition of entirely misconceiving the 
real characteristics with which these ideas are now marked 
in the understanding of all mankind, and of confounding, 
through the help of this misconception, these ideas with 
other ideas which are indeed mpre or less intimately united 
with them, but which are not the same ; which precede 
them, or which succeed them, but do not constitute them, 
as the ideas of body, of number, of the phenomena of con 
sciousness and memory, of collection and totality, of re 
ward and punishment, pleasure and pain. Now, without 
doubt sensation and reflection explain these latter ideas; 
but these are not the ideas which it is the problem to ex 
plain ; and the system of Locke is therefore convicted of 
being unable to explain all the ideas that are in the human 
mind. 

The theories which we have brought forward and dis 
cussed, occupy three fourths of the second book of Locke s 
Essay on the Human Understanding. Locke had then only 
to gather his generalizations ; he had nothing more to do 
but to show how, the ideas w r hich we have gone over and 
all similar ideas being furnished by sensation or by reflec 
tion, the complete edifice of the human understanding may 
be erected on this basis. On our part, the most important 
portion of our task is accomplished. It was necessary to 
accompany the exposition of the principles of Locke s sys 
tem with a profound and thorough discussion. Now that 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 221 

these principles are overthrown, we can proceed faster ; it 
will be enough to give a rapid view of the last part of the 
second book, stating the principal positions, and elucidating 
them by a few reflections. 

All those ideas which are derived immediately from these 
two sources, sensation and reflection, are by Locke denom 
inated simple ideas. Simple ideas are the elements out of 
which we compose all other ideas. Compound or complex 
ideas are those which we form subsequently by the combina 
tion of simple and primitive ideas ; so that the whole devel 
opment and action of the human mind is resolved into the 
acquisition, immediately from the senses, or from reflection, 
of a certain number of simple ideas, which Locke believes 
he has determined ; then the formation from these mate 
rials of complex ideas by combination and association ; then 
again, the formation from these complex ideas of ideas still 
more complex than the former ; and thus on continually, 
till we have exhausted all the ideas in the human mind.* 

There is one error which it is here necessary to expose 
an error of idea, or a verbal error, whichever you please. 
It is not true that we begin by simple ideas, and then pro 
ceed to complex ideas. On the contrary, we begin with 
complex ideas, and from them proceed to more simple; 
and the process of the mind in the acquisition of ideas is 
precisely the inverse of that which Locke assigns. All our 
primary ideas are complex, and for the evident reason that 
\ all our faculties, or at leasta greajuiumbei of our faculties, 
j enter into exercise at the same time ; and their simulta- 
; neous action gives us at the same time a number of ideas 
bound and blended together, which form a whole. For 
example : the idea of the external world which is given so 
early, is a very complex idea, containing a multitude of 
ideas. There is the idea of the secondary qualities of ex 
ternal objects; the idea of their primary qualities; the idea 
of the permanent reality of something to which you refer 

* Book II. Chap. II. and Chap. XIL 



222 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

these qualities, that is of body, of matter; there is also the 
idea of space containing body ; the idea of time in which 
its different motions and changes are accomplished, etc. 
And do you believe that you have at first, and by itself, 
the idea of primary qualities, and of the secondary quali 
ties; and then the idea of the subject of these qualities; 
then the idea of time ; and then the idea of spade ? By no 
means. It is simultaneously, or almost simultaneously, that 
you acquire all these ideas. Moreover you do not have 
them without knowing that you have them. Now con 
sciousness implies a certain degree of attention, that is, of 
will ; it implies also a belief in your own existence, in the 
real or substantial me or self, which you are. In a word, 
you have at once an assemblage of ideas which are given 
you the one with the other ; and all your primitive ideas 
are complex. They are complex besides for another rea 
son : because they are particular and concrete ; as I have 
shown in the preceding lecture. Then comes abstraction, 
which, employing itself upon those primitive data, complex, 
concrete, and particular, separates what nature had given 
you united and simultaneous, and considers by itself each 
of these parts of the whole. That part which is separated 
from the \vhole, that idea detached from the total picture 
of the primitive ideas, becomes an abstract and simple idea, 
until a more sagacious abstraction decomposes that sup 
posed simple idea, and evolves from it many other ideas 
which it considers apart, abstracting one from the other ; 
until at last, from decomposition to decomposition, abstrac 
tion and analysis arrive at ideas so simple that they are, 
or appear to be, no longer capable of being decomposed. 
The more simple an idea is, the more general it is; the 
more abstract, the greater the extension it has. We begin 
with the concrete, and AVC go to the abstract ; we begin 
with the definite and particular, in order to arrive at the 
simple and the general. The process of the mind, then, 
as I have said, is altogether the reverse of that assigned 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 223 

by Locke. I should, however, render this justice to the 
school of Locke, that it has not permitted so important 
an error to remain in the analysis of the mind ; and that 
Condillac subsequently restored the true process. 

This has not been done, however, in regard to another 
opinion of Locke, blended with the former, namely, that 
the mind is passive in the acquisition of simple ideas, and 
active in that of complex ideas.* Without doubt the mind 
is more active, its activity is more easily apprehended, in 
forming general ideas by abstraction (for this is what we 
must understand by the complex ideas of Locke) ; but it is 
also active in the acquisition of particular ideas (the simple 
ideas of Locke), for in this there is still consciousness, and 
consciousness supposes attention, activity. The mind is 
always active when it thinks. It does not always think, as 
Locke has well remarked ;f but whenever it does think, 
and it certainly thinks in the acquisition of particular 
ideas, it is active. Locke has too much diminished the ac 
tivity of the mind ; and the school of Locke, far from ex- 
iending it, has limited it still more. 

All our ideas are now obtained, or supposed to be ob 
tained ; their mechanism has been described. It remains 
only to investigate their most general characters. Locke 
has divided them into clear and distinct ideas, and ideas 
obscure and confused, J real and chimerical, complete and 
incomplete, || true and false. 1 ^ In the last chapter we find 
the remark since then so often reiterated, that in strictness 
all our ideas are true, and that error does not respect the 
idea considered in itself; for even when you have an idea 
of a thing which does not exist, as the idea of a centaur, 
of a chimera, it is not the less true that you have the idea 
which you have ; it is only that the idea which you really 
have, lacks a corresponding object, really existing in 

* B. II. Ch. I. 25 ; Ch. XII. 2. f B. II. Ch. I. 18, 19. 

\ B. II. Ch. XXIX. Ibid. Ch. XXX. 

\ Ibid. Ch. XXXI. ^ Ibid. Ch. XYYTT. 



224 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

nature; but the idea in itself is not the less true. The 
error, then, respects not the idea, but the affirmation 
sometimes added to it, namely, that this idea has an object 
really existing in nature. You are not in an error, because 
you have the idea of a centaur ; but you are in an error 
when to this idea of a centaur you join the affirmation, 
that the object of such an idea exists. It is not the idea 
taken by itself, it is the judgment connected with it, which 
contains the error. The school of Locke has developed 
and put in clear light this judicious observation. 

The Second Book closes with an excellent chapter on the 
association of ideas** Not only are ideas clear or obscure, 
distinct or confused, real or chimerical, complete or incom 
plete, true, or false; they have besides this undeniable 
peculiarity, that by occasion of one we conceive another ; 
that they recall and bring up each other. There are asso 
ciations natural, necessary, and rational; there are also 
false, arbitrary, and vicious associations of ideas. Locke 
has clearly discerned and forcibly signalized the danger of 
the latter sort. He has shown by a multitude of examples 
how it frequently happens, that simply because we have 
seen two things by chance united, this purely accidental 
association subsists in the imagination and perverts the un 
derstanding. This is the source of a multitude of errors ; 
not only of false ideas, but of false sentiments, of arbitrary 
antipathies and sympathies, which not unfrequently de 
generate into folly. We find here in Locke the wisest 
counsels for the education of the soul and of the mind, on 
the art of breaking up in good season the false connections 
of ideas, and of restoring to their place those rational con 
nections which are derived from the nature of ideas and of 
the human mind. I regret but one thing ; it is that Locke 
did not push this analysis still further, that he left still so 
much vagueness and indecision upon this important subject. 
It should not have been enough for him to lay it down 

* B. II. Ch. XXXIII. 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 225 

that there are associations true, natural, and rational ; and 
associations false, accidental, and irrational ; he should 
have shown in what consisted the true connections ; deter 
mined the most important and the most ordinary of these 
legitimate connections ; and attempted to ascend to the 
laws which govern them. A precise theory of these laws 
would have been an immense service done to philosophy ; 
for the laws of the association of ideas rest upon the laws 
of the understanding itself. In fine, when Locke passed to 
perverted associations, he should have shown what is the 
root of these associations, and what is the relation of false 
connections to the true. We see the human mind only in 
its extravagance, until we ascend to its source, the reason 
of that extravagance. Thus, for example, Locke incessant- 
ly recommends, and very justly, to break up in the minds 
of children, the ordinary association of specters with dark 
ness. A more thorough analysis would have investigated 
the ground of this association of mysterious being* with 
night, darkness, or obscurity. The idea of phantoms or 
specters is never connected in the mind or in the imagina 
tion with the idea of the sun or a brilliant light. He-e is 
certainly an extravagance of the mind, but it is an extrava 
gance which has its ground, and it would be curious p-nd 
useful to investigate it. Here is a false connection of idt as 
which analysis can completely explain only by referring it 
to another connection of ideas, natural and legitimate, but 
perverted in a particular case. As to the rest, I repe?t, 
this w T hole chapter shows the ingenious observer, and the 
true philosopher ; and we shall see hereafter that the asso 
ciation of ideas became, in the hands of Locke s school a 
rich subject of experiment and of instructive results, a 
fruitful topic of favorite study, and in respect to which the 
followers of Locke have rendered unquestionable servne 
to the human reason. 

Such is the exact and faithful analysis of the Second 
Book. Locke has made all our ideas to be derived fi>."* 

10* 



220 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

sensation or from reflection ; he has exhibited the different 
general attributes by which they may be classed, and that 
most remarkable quality of them, which is at once the 
most useful or the most dangerous. Ideology, psychology, 
at least that of Locke, is achieved. 

It would now remain to pass to the applications of Ideo 
logy, to the knowledge of objects and beings by the aid 
of ideas. This is the subject of the Fourth Book. But 
Locke, having clearly perceived what is the relation of 
words to ideas, and that words are a fruitful source of 
errors for the understanding, has previously devoted an 
entire book, his third, to the discussion of the great ques 
tion concerning signs and language. 

You know that this is again one of the favorite subjects 
of the school of Locke, and I cordially acknowledge that 
in regard to this question, together with that concerning 
the association of ideas, it has deserved best of philosophy. 
I acknowledge with great respect a multitude of sound, 
ingenious, and even original ideas, scattered through the 
whole of Locke s Third Book. Locke has admirably per 
ceived the necessary intervention of signs, of words, in the 
formation of abstract and general ideas ; the influence of 
signs and words in definitions, and consequently in a con 
siderable part of logic. He has noticed and signalized the 
advantages of a good system of signs, the utility of a well 
constructed language ; the verbal disputes to which a de 
fective language too frequently reduces philosophy. Upon 
all these points he has opened the route which his school 
have entered and pursued. If he has not gone very far, 
he still has the credit of opening the way ; if he has suffered 
many profound observations to escape him which have been 
made by his successors, he has in requital avoided very 
many systematic errors into which they have fallen. 

I Faithful still, however, to his method of inquiring more 
after the origin of things than their actual characters, 
Locke has not failed to investigate, though briefly, the 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 227 

origin of words, of signs, of language. He has recognized 
that the materials of language pre-exist in nature, in 
sounds, and in that of our organs which is fitted to form 
them ; but he perfectly comprehended that if there were 
nothing else but sounds, even articulate sounds, there 
would indeed be the materials of signs, but there would 
yet be no signs. It is necessary that the understanding at 
tach a sense, a particular signification to the sound, in or 
der that the sound should become a sign, the sign of an 
internal conception of the mind. " Parrots, and several 
other birds," says Locke, B. III. Ch. I. 1 and 2, " will be 
taught to make articulate sounds distinct enough, which 
yet by no means are capable of language. Besides artic 
ulate sounds, therefore, it was further necessary that man 
should be able to use these sounds as signs of internal 
conceptions / and to make them stand as marks for the 
ideas within his own mind." From whence it follows, 

1, that the intelligence is not the product of language, but 
on the contrary, language is the product of intelligence ; 

2, that the greater part of words having, as Locke well re 
marked, an arbitrary signification, not only are languages 
the product of the intelligence, but they are even in great 
part the product of the will ; while, in the system which 
has prevailed, both in the school of Locke and in a school 
altogether opposed to his, intelligence is made to come 
from language, in the latter, without much inquiring 
whence language comes, in the former, by making it come 
from the sensation and the sound, without suspecting that 
there is a gulf between the sound considered as a sound, 
and the sound considered as a sign, and that what makes 
it a sign is the power to comprehend it, that is, the mind, 
the intelligence. Sounds, and the organs which perceive 
and produce them, are the conditions of language ; but its 
principle is intelligence. Here at least, we can give Locke 
the credit of not confounding the condition of a principle 



228 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

with the principle itself. His successors have not been as 
wise.* 

I will now proceed to take up several important points of 
the Third Book, which appear to me doubtful or false. You 
will judge. 

1. Locke maintains (B. III. Ch. I. 5), that "words ulti 
mately derive their origin from such [other words] as sig 
nify sensible things," that is to say, in the last analysis all 
words have for their roots elementary words, which are 
the signs of sensible ideas. In the first place, the absolute 
truth of this proposition may be denied. I will give you! 
two words, and will ask you to reduce them to their primi 
tive words expressive of sensible ideas. Take the word I 
or me. This word, at least in all languages with which I 
am acquainted, is not susceptible of any reduction. It is 
tmdecomposable and primitive. It expresses no sensible 
idea ; it represents nothing but the meaning which the in 
telligence attaches to it ; it is a pure sign, without relation 
to any sensible sign. The word being is in precisely the 
same case ; it is primitive and altogether intellectual. I 
know no language where the word being is expressed by a 
corresponding word representing a sensible idea. It is not 
then true, that all the roots of language are in the last 
analysis signs of sensible ideas. < Further : even if it were 
true, and absolutely so, which is not the fact, let us see the 
only conclusion which could be justly drawn from it. Man 
is led at first by the action of all his faculties out of him 
self and toward the external world. The phenomena of 
the external world first strike his notice ; these phenomena 
of course receive the first names ; the first signs are drawn 
from sensible objects ; and they are tinged in some sort 
with their colors. Then when man, subsequently, in falling 
back upon himself, apprehends more or less distinctly those 
intellectual phenomena, of which he had only confused 

* First Series, Yol. III. Lect. II., OnCondillac, p. 94 and Lect. HI. p. 140 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 2j!0 

glimpses ; and when be wishes to express these new phe 
nomena of the mind and of thought, analogy leads him to 
connect the signs he is seeking for, with those he already* 
possesses ; for analogy is the law of all language forming 
or developed. Hence the metaphors into which analysis 
resolves the greater part of the signs of the most abstract 
moral ideas. But it does not follow at all, that the mind 
of man has hereby intended to mark the genesis of its 
ideas. Because the signs of certain ideas are analogous to 
the signs of certain other ideas, the conclusion does indeed 
follow that the former were formed after the others, and 
upon the others ; but not that the ideas of all these signs 
are in themselves identical or analogous. It is, however, by 
these analogies, purely verbal, and which, I repeat it, do 
not explain t all the phenomena of language, that the school 
of Locke, taking advantage of the relations of words 
to each other, and of the sensible characteristics of the 
chief parts of their roots, has pretended, that all signs in 
the last analysis are derived from sensible signs ; and what 
is more, that all ideas are equally derived from sensible 
ideas. Here is the foundation of the great work of Home 
Took, who, in respect to grammar, has developed with a 
hardy fidelity the system already clearly indicated in the 
Essay on the Human Understanding (B. III. Ch. I. 5), a 
system more or less in accordance with the necessary inter 
vention of intelligence in the formation of language which 
Locke has himself set forth, and with the power of reflection 
as distinct from sensation in the acquisition of knowledge : 
"It may also," says Locke, "lead us a little toward the 
original of all our notions and knowledge, if we remark 
how great a dependence our words have on common sensi 
ble ideas ; and how those which are made use of to stand 
for actions and notions quite removed from sense, have 
their rise from thence, and from obvious sensible ideas are 
transferred to more abstruse significations, and made -to 
stand ibr things that come not under the cognizance of our 



230 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

senses ; e. g., to imagine, apprehend, comprehend, adhere, 
conceive, instill, disgust, disturbance, tranquillity, etc., are 
all words taken from the operations of sensible things, and 
applied to certain modes of thinking. Spirit, in its pri 
mary signification, is breath ; .angel, a messenger ; I doubt 
not, but if we could trace them to their sources, we should 
find, in all languages, the names which stand for things 
-that fall not under the senses, to have had their first rise 
from sensible ideas. By which we may give some kind of 
a guess, what kind of notions they were, and whence de 
rived, which tilled their minds who were the first beginners 
of languages; and. how nature, even in the naming of 
things, unawares suggested to men the originals and prin 
ciples of all their knowledge . . . ." 

II. Another proposition of Locke : (B. III. Ch. III. 8), 
" that the signification of w r ords is perfectly arbitrary." I 
have already acknowledged that the greater part of words 
are arbitrary, and come not only from the intelligence, but 
from the will. I am thoroughly persuaded that the greater 
part of words are conventional ; but the question is, 
whether they are all so ; the point to be investigated is, 
whether there be absolutely not one root in language 
which carries of itself its own signification, which has a 
natural meaning, which is the foundation of subsequent 
convention, instead of coming from that convention. This 
is a great question which Locke has cut short with a single 
word, and which all his school have regarded as definitive 
ly settled ; not even agitating it. And certainly even if I 
should grant, what I can not grant without qualification, 
that all words are arbitrary, I should except the laws of 
the relation of words to each other. Language is not a 
simple collection of words ; it is a system of manifold re 
lations of words ( to each other. These various relations arc 
all referable to invariable relations, which constitute the 
foundation of every language, its grammar, the common 
and identical part of all languages, that is to say, universal 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 231 

grammar, which has its necessary laws derived from the 
very nature of the human mind. Now it is remarkable, 
that in the book on words, Locke has never touched upon 
the relations of words, never upon syntax, nor the true 
foundation of language. There are a multitude of special 
reflections, and ingenious too, but no theory, no true 
grammar. It is by the school of Locke that the isolated 
remarks of their master have been formed into a gram 
matical system, true or false, which we shall take up here 
after. 

III. We come now to another proposition of great im 
portance. Locke declares expressly, that what is called 
general and universal, is the work of the understanding, 
and that the real essence is nothing else than the nominal 
essence. B. III. Ch. III. 11: " general and universal 
belong not to the real existence of things ; but are the in 
ventions- and creatures of the understanding, made by it 
for its own use, and concern only signs, whether words or 
ideas." You see here the very foundation of nominalism. 
It is important to examine, though briefly, this proposition, 
which has become in the school of Locke an unquestionable 
principle, a prejudice placed above all discussion. 

I perceive a book, and another book, and another book 
still ; I neglect, by abstraction, their differences of position, 
of form, of size, of color ; I attend solely to their relations 
of resemblance which it is needless to enumerate, and I 
arrive by well-known processes, to the general idea, of 
book ; and that general idea is expressed for me by the 
word, book. Now what is there under this word ? 
Neither more nor less than this : 1, the supposition that, 
between these different books placed under my eyes, be 
sides the differences which distinguish them, there are also 
in them resemblances, common qualities, without which no 
generalization would be possible ; 2, the supposition that, 
there is a mind capable of recognizing these common j 
qualities; and 3, the supposition that there are objects 



232 ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 

really existing, real books, subjects of the common qualities. 
The word book represents all this : different books existing 
in nature, qualities common to those different books, and 
a mind capable of uniting those common qualities and of 
raising them to their general idea. But independently of 
these different and real books, of their common qualities, 
and of the mind which conceives them, does the word book 
express, does it represent, any thing existing, which ia 
neither such or such a book, but book in itself? No, cer 
tainly not. The word book is, then, nothing but a word, 
a pure word, which has no special type, no real object ex 
isting in nature ; it is certain, then, that the general essence 
of book confounds itself with its nominal essence, that the 
essence of book is nothing but a word ; and here I arn al 
together on the side of Locke and of Nominalism. 

But are there not other general ideas ? Let us examine. 
I perceive a body, and at the same instant my mind can 
not but take for granted that the body is in a certain par 
ticular space, which is the place of this particular body. 
I perceive another body, and my mind can not but believe 
that this other particular body is also in a particular space ; 
and thus I arrive, and I arrive very soon, as you have be 
fore seen, without need of passing through a long series 
of experiments, at the general idea of space. It remains to 
ascertain if this general idea of space is exactly the same 
as the general idea of book, that is, if the word space in 
itself signifies nothing more than the word book. Let us 
consult the human mind and the truth of internal facts. It 
is an unquestionable fact, that when you speak of book in 
general, you do not connect with the idea of book that of 
j real existence. On the contrary, I ask if, when you speak 
of space in general, you do not add to this idea a belief in 
the reality of space ? I ask if it is with space as with 
book; if you believe, for instance, that there are, without 
you, nothing but particular spaces, that there is not an 
universal space, capable of embracing all possible bodies, a 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

space one and continuous, of which different particular spaces 
are nothing but arbitrary portions and measures ? It is 
certain, that when you speak of space, you have the con 
viction that out of yourself there is something which is 
space ; as also when you speak of time, you have the con 
viction that there is out of yourself something which is 
time, although you know neither the nature of time nor of 
space. Different times and different spaces, are not the 
constituent elements of space and time ; time and space are 
noVsolely for you the collection of different times and dif 
ferent spaces ; but you believe that time and space are in 
themselves, that it is not two or three spaces, two or three 
ages, which constitute space and time ; for, every thing 
derived from experience, whether in respect to space or 
to time, is finite, and the characteristic of space and of 
time for you is to be infinite, without beginning and with 
out end : time resolves itself into eternity, and space into 
immensity. In a word, an invincible belief in the reality 
of time and of space, is attached by you to the general 
idea of time and space. This is what the human mind be 
lieves ; this is what consciousness attests. Here the phe 
nomenon is precisely the reverse of that which I just 
before signalized ; and while the general idea of a book 
does not suppose in the mind the conviction of the ex 
istence of any thing which is book in itself; here on the 
contrary, to the general idea of time and of space, is united 
the invincible conviction of the reality of something which 
is space and time. Without doubt, the word space is a 
pure word, as well as that of book ; but the former word 
carries with it the supposition of something real in itself. 
Here is the root and ground of Realism. 

Nominalism thinks that general ideas are nothing but 
words ; realism, that general ideas suppose something real. 
On both sides there is equal truth, and equal error. With 
out doubt, there are a great number of general ideas, which 
are purely collective, which represent nothing else than the 



234 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

common qualities of objects, without implying any exist 
ence [any general existence, any essence separate from 
those common qualities, and the particular objects in which 
they reside] ; and in this sense nominalism is in the right. 
But it is certain, also, that there are general ideas, which 
imply the supposition of the real existence of their object : 
realism rests upon this basis, which is undeniable. Now, 
observe the error of nominalism and of realism. The force 
of realism lies in general ideas which invincibly imply the 
external existence of their objects; these are, as you know, 
universal and necessary general ideas. It starts from 
thence; but into the circle of these superior ideas, it 
attracts and envelops ideas which are purely collective and 
relative, born of abstraction and language. What it had 
the right to affirm of the former, it affirms also of the 
latter. It was right on one point ; it would extend it to 
an absolute and exclusive right : that is its error. Nomin 
alism, on its part, because it had demonstrated clearly that 
there are many general ideas which are only collective 
deas, relative and of mere words, concluded from this that 
all general ideas are nothing but general ideas, collective 
and relative, mere signs. The one converted things into 
words, the other converted words into things. Both are 
right in their starting-point ; both go astray in their con 
clusion, through their excessive and absolute pretensions. 
In general, the Sensual School is nominalist, and the Ideal 
School is realist ; and both sides, as is always the case 
with the incomplete and exclusive, half right and half 
wrong.* 

IV. I conclude with pointing out another proposition 
or rather pretension of Locke, which it is important to re 
duce within just limits. Every where Locke attributes to 

* On the difference of general collective ideas arid general necessary 
ideas, see First Series, Yol. II. Lecture IL-IY. p. 45. On Nominalism, 
Realism, and Conceptualtem, see First Series. Vol. IY. Lecture XXL 
pp. 257-2G3; and Introduction to the unpublished works of Abelard. 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 235 

words the greatest part of our errors ; and if you expound 
the master by. his disciples, you will find in all the writers 
of the school of Locke, that all disputes are disputes about 
words; that science is nothing but a language, and of 
course, a language well formed, is a science well con 
structed. I undertake to show the untruth of these ex 
aggerated assertions.* No doubt words have a great 
influence ; no doubt they have a very large share in our 
errors, and we should endeavor to make language as per 
fect as possible. Who denies it? But the question is, 
whether all error is derived from language, and whether 
science is merely a well formed language? No. The 
causes of error are very diverse ; they are both more 
extended and more profound. Levity, presumption, in 
dolence, precipitation, pride, thousands of moral causes, 
influence our judgments. The vices of language may con 
nect themselves with these moral causes and aggravate 
them, but do not constitute them. If you look more 
closely, you will see that the greater part of the disputes, 
which seem at first to be disputes about words, are at the 
bottom, disputes about things. Humanity is too serious 
to be excited and often to shed its best blood for words. 
Wars do not turn on disputes about words ; and I say the 
same of other conflicts, theological and scientific contro 
versies, whose depth and importance is altogether miscon 
ceived, when they are resolved into pure logomachies. 
Certainly every science should seek for a well-constructed 
language ; but it were to take the effect for the cause, tc 

* " In order for this to be true it would be necessary that not one 
thought could take place without the aid of language, which is not the 
case. I will take but one example among a thousand. Is it by help of the 
word me, or of the word existence that I feel that I exist? Have I come 
from the word to the thing ? The very supposition is absurd. Concioua- 
ness perceives its phenomena by its own power, and net bywords; 
words are a powerful help to it, but do not constitute it." First Series, 
Vol III. Lecture I. p. 63. 



2,j6 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

suppose that there are well established sciences, because 
there are well formed languages. The contrary is true : 
sciences have well formed languages, when they themselves 
are well formed. Mathematics has a very well constructed 
language. Why ? Because in mathematics the" ideas have 
been perfectly determined ; the simplicity, strictness and 
precision of the ideas have produced strictness, precision 
and simplicity of signs. It is contradictory to suppose that 
precise ideas express themselves in confused language ; and 
even if it were so for a while, in the infancy of a language, 
yet soon, the precision, strictness, and fixedness of the 
ideas would dispel the vagueness and obscurity of lan 
guage. The excellence of the chemical and physical 
sciences comes obviously from well made experiments. 
Facts having been observed and described with fidelity, 
j reasoning could apply itself to these facts with certainty, 
and deduce from them legitimate consequences and appli 
cations. From hence arose, and from hence should arise, 
a good system of signs. Make the contrary supposition ; 
suppose the experiments badly made : then the more strict 
the reasoning founded upon these false data, the more 
errors it would deduce, and the more -length and breadth 
it would give to the errors. Suppose that the theories 
resulting from these imperfect and vicious experiments 
should be represented by signs the most simple, the most 
analogous, the best determined; of what importance would 
the goodness of the signs be, while under this excellent 
language was concealed a chimera or an error? Take 
medicine. It is a complaint that it has made so little ad 
vancement. What do you think should be done to bring 
it up from the regions of hypothesis, and elevate it to the 
rank of a science ? Do you believe that at the outset you 
could, by a language well constructed, reform physiology 
and medicine ? Or do you not believe that the true remedy 
is experiment, and along with experiment the strict em 
ployment of reason ? A good system of signs will then 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 2 .tf 

come of itself; it could not come before, or it would come 
to no good purpose. It is the same with respect to philos 
ophy. It has been incessantly repeated, that the structure 
of the human mind is entire in that of language, and that 
philosophy would be completed the day that a philoso 
phical language should be achieved. And starting from 
this point, some have endeavored to arrange a certain 
philosophical language more or less clear, easy and ele 
gant ; and they have believed that philosophy was com 
pleted. But it was not : it was very far from being so. 
This prejudice has even retarded its progress, by taking 
off the mind from experiment. Philosophical science, like 
every science of observation and of reasoning, lives by 
observations accurately made and deductions rigorously 
strict. It is there, and not elsewhere, we are to look foi 
all the future progress of philosophy. 



CHAPTER VI. 

OF KNOWLEDGE: THEORY OF REPRESENTATIVE IDEAS. 

Examination of the Fourth Book of the Essay on the Human Under 
standing, on Knowledge. That knowledge, according to Locke, 
depends : 1, upon Ideas ; 2, upon Ideas, in so far as they are conformed 
to their objects. That the conformity or non-conformity of ideas" with 
their objects, as the foundation of truth or falsehood in regard to 
knowledge, is not with Locke merely a metaphor, but a real theory. 
Examination of this theory of ideas : 1, in relation to the external 
world, to secondary qualities, to primary qualities, to the substratum 
of these qualities, to space, to time, etc. ; 2, in relation to the spiritual 
world. Appeal to Revelation. Paralogism of Locke. 

HAVING found all the ideas which are in the humac 
understanding, their origin, their genesis, their mechanism 
and characters ; the signs also by which we express, exhibr 
and unfold them ; the next thing is to inquire what mar 
does with these ideas, what knowledge he derives fron 
them, what is the extent of this knowledge, and what it& 
limits. This is the subject of the Fourth Book of the Essay 
on the Human Understanding : it treats of Knowledge i 
that is, not merely of ideas taken in themselves, but in 
relation to their objects, in relation to essences ; for knowl 
edge reaches to that ; it attains to God, to bodies, and to 
ourselves. Now here at the outset a -previous question 
comes up. Knowledge extends to beings : the fact is un 
questionable ; but how does this take place ? Starting from 
ideas which are within it, how does the understanding ar 
rive at beings which are without it? What bridge is 
there, between the faculty of knowing, which is within us, 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 239 

and the objects of knowledge which are without us? 
When we shall have arrived on the other side, we will 
take counsel what course we ought to follow, and where 
we can go ; but first it is necessary to know how to make 
the passage. Before entering upon ontology, we must 
know how to pass from psychology to ontology, what is 
the foundation, and the legitimate foundation of knowl 
edge. It is this preliminary question which we shall first 
impose upon Locke. 

The fourth book of the Essay on the Human Under 
standing begins by recognizing that ah 1 knowledge depends 
upon ideas : 

B. IV. Of Knowledge / Ch. I. Of Knowledge in gen* 
eral. 1 : " Since the mind, in all its thoughts and reason 
ings hath no other immediate object but its own ideas, 
which it alone does or can contemplate, it is evident that 
our knowledge is only conversant about them." 

But you have seen that Locke recognizes, and rightly, 
that ideas in themselves considered are always true. It is 
always true that we have ^the idea which we have, which 
is actually under the eye of consciousness. Be this idea a 
chimera, a centaur, yet we always have it, and in this re 
spect the idea can not be false, it can not but be true ; or 
rather, in strictness, it is neither false nor true. Where, 
then, can error begin, and where does truth reside ? Both 
the one and the other evidently reside, and can reside, 
only in the supposition of the mind that the idea does, or 
does not refer to an object, to such or such an object 
really existing in nature. It is in this reference or relation, 
that truth or error lies for the human mind. If this rela 
tion can be found and fastened upon, human knowledge is 
possible ; if this relation can not be apprehended, human 
knowledge is impossible. Now supposing that this relation 
is possible, what is it, and in what does it consist ? On 
this point it is our task to interrogate Locke with precision 
and severity; for here should be the foundation of the 



240 ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 

theory of the true and of the false in regard to human 
knowledge, that is, the foundation of the Fourth Book 
which we have to examine. 

Throughout the whole of the Fourth Book, as at the 
close of the Second, Locke expressly declares that the true 
or false in ideas, about which all knowledge is conversant, 
consists in the supposition of a relation between these ideas 
and their object ; and every where also he expressly de 
clares that this relation is and can be nothing but a rela 
tion of agreement or disagreement. The idea, to which, 
properly speaking, neither truth nor error pertain, is con 
formed to its object, or it is not conformed. If conformed, 
knowledge is not only possible, but it is true ; for it rests 
upon a true idea, an idea conformed to its object ; if the 
idea is not conformed to its object, the idea is false, and the 
knowledge derived from it is equally false. This in sub 
stance is what we find from one end to the other of the 
Fourth Book of the Essay on the Human Understanding, 
concerning knowledge. The same also we find at every 
step in the six last chapters of the Second Book, where 
Locke treats of true and false ideas. 

B. II. Ch. XXXII. 4 : " Whenever the mind refers any 
of its ideas to any thing extraneous to them, they are then 
capable to be called true or false. Because the mind in 
such a reference makes a tacit supposition of their con 
formity to that thing." 

B. IV. Ch. IV. 3 : " It is evident, the mind knows not 
things immediately, but only by the intervention of the ideas 
it has of them. Our knowledge therefore is real, only so 
far as there is a conformity between our ideas and the re 
ality of things." 

These two passages are positive ; they clearly reduce 
the question of truth or falsehood in respect to knowledge 
to that, of the conformity or non-conformity of ideas with 
their objects. 

But this necessity of the conformity of an idea with its 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 241 

object in order to its truth, is it in Locke a real philosophi 
cal theory, or is it merely a mode of speaking, simply a 
metaphor, more or less happy ? If it is a metaphor, I 
would ask what then is the theory couched under this 
metaphor, and in what place in Locke we are to find that 
theory once expressly declared ? Nowhere do I find any 
tiling but the metaphor itself. If in the entire absence of 
any other theory, the two passages which I have just cited 
do not suffice to prove that the necessity of the conformity 
of an idea with its object in order to constitute its truth, 
is not a metaphor, but an express theory, I could adduce 
here a multitude of other passages which leave no doubt 
in this respect. Thus when near the end of the Second 
Book, Locke treats of ideas as real or chimerical, as com 
plete or incomplete, he rests upon his theory of the con 
formity or non-conformity of ideas with their objects. 

B. II. Ch. XXX. 1 : " Real ideas are conformable to 
their archetypes. First, real ideas, I mean such as have a 
foundation in nature ; such as have a conformity with the 
real being and existence of things, or with their arche 
types. Fantastical or chimerical, I call such as have no 
foundation in nature, nor have any conformity to that re 
ality of being to which they are tacitly referred as their 
archetypes." 

Now what is an adequate or inadequate idea ? An ade 
quate idea should, according to Locke, be that which is 
completely conformed to its archetype ; an inadequate idea, 
that which is conformed only in part. 

Jbid. Ch. XXXI. 1 : " Those I call adequate, which 
perfectly represent those archetypes wnich the mind sup 
poses them taken from, which it intends them to stand for, 
and to which it refers them. Inadequate ideas are such, 
which are but a partial or incomplete representation of 
those archetypes to which they are referred." 

Thus the theory of complete or incomplete ideas rests 
upon the theory of real and chimerical ideas, which also 

11 



242 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

rests upon that of true or false ideas, and that consists 
altogether in the theory of the conformity of the idea to 
the object. This is a point of so much importance, that to 
take away all uncertainty, I wish to adduce a passage 
where Locke lays down the problem by itself, and the pre 
cise form in which he lays it down, excludes all ambiguity 
in the solution which he gives : 

B. IV. Ch. IV. 3 : " But what shall be here the criterion? 
How shall the mind, when it perceives nothing but its own 
ideas, know that they agree with things themselves? 
This, though it seems not to want difficulty, yet I think 
there be two sorts of ideas that we may be assured agree 
with things." 

4 : " Simple ideas carry with them all the conformity 
which is intended, or which our state requires ; for they 
represent things to us under those appearances which they 
are fitted to produce in us." And further on : " this con 
formity between % our simple ideas and the existence of 
things, is sufficient for rea>knowledge." 

It is impossible to explain himself more expressly. It is 
not, then, a mere way of speaking, a metaphor thrown off 
in passing ; it is altogether a theory, a system. Let us ex 
amine it seriously. 

See, then, by it, truth and error, reality and chimera, re 
solved into the representation or non-representation of the 
object by the idea, into conformity or non-conformity of 
the idea to its object. There is knowledge upon this con 
dition, and upon this alone, that the idea represents its 
object, is conformed to it. But upon "what condition does 
an idea represent its object, and be conformed to it ? 
Upon this condition, that the idea resemble its object, that 
the idea nave to its object the relation of a copy to its 
original. Weigh the force of the words: the conformity 
of an idea to its object can signify nothing else but the re 
semblance of that idea, taken as a copy, to its object, taken 
as the original. This is exactly what Locke expresses by 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 243 

the word archetypes, which he uses to designate the objects 
of ideas. Now if the conformity of the idea to its object 
is nothing but the resemblance of the copy to its original, 
to its archetype, I say that in such a case, the idea is taken 
solely as an image. The idea must evidently be an image 
in order to resemble any thing, in order to represent any 
thing. See then the representative idea reduced to an 
image. Now look closely, and you will see that every 
image implies something material. Can an image of any 
thing immaterial be conceived ? Every image is necessa 
rily sensible and material, or it is nothing but a metaphor, 
a supposition which we have put aside. Thus in the last 
analysis, to say that there is knowledjg^jffijierQ- the idea is 
conformed to its object, ajixljth.aj;j[io_k^ 
but jipon_this_ condition, _ig_to_ pretend that _thejca_ia-no 
knowledge^ but upon the condition that the idea of a-fching 
isjfche image_of that thing, that is to say^jts_jaaterial image; 
All knowledge, then, is involved in the following ques 
tion : Have we in respect to beings ideas which represent 
them, which resemble them, which are the images, and the 
material images of them ; or have we not such images ? 
If we have, knowledge is possible ; if not, it is impossible. 
Now in point of fact, human knowledge embraces both 
the external w6rld, and the soul, and God. If, then, knowl 
edge of these objects is possible a^ul real, it is only upon 
the condition just laid down, namely, that we have of these 
beings, ideas which are conformed to them, which represent 
them, which resemble them, which are images of them, 
and once again, material images. Have we, then, or have 
we not idea-images, material images, of God, of the soul, 
and of the external world ? This is the question. Let us 
first apply it to the external world. It is there, above all, 
that the theory of Locke would appear most admissible. 
Let us see what is the soundness and value of it even upon 
this ground. 

The* idea of the external world is the idea of body. 



244 ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 

Bodies are known to us only by their qualities. These 
qualities are primary or secondary. By the secondary 
qualities of bodies is understood, you know, those which 
might not exist, and yet the body itself not cease to exist ; 
for instance, the qualities of which we acquire the idea by 
the sense of smelling, of hearing, and of taste, by all the 
senses, in short, except unquestionably that of touch, and 
perhaps .also that of sight. The primary qualities of bodies 
are those which are given to us as the fundamental attri 
butes of bodies, without which bodies could not for us 
exist. The eminently primary quality is solidity, which 
implies more or less extension, which directly implies form. 
We have the conviction that every body is solid, extended, 
has form. We are moreover convinced that bodies have 
the property of causing in us those particular modifications 
which are called savor, sound, odor, perhaps also the modi 
fication called color. Locke agrees to all this : it is he who 
chiefly contributed to extend the distinction between the 
primary and secondary qualities of bodies, which it is not 
our object to go any deeper into. Let uS see how he ex 
plains the acquisition of ideas of the primary and of the 
secondary qualities : 

B. II. Ch. VIII. 11 : " How primary qualities produce 
their ideas." The next thing to be considered is, how 
bodies produce ideas in us ; and that is manifestly by im 
pulse, the only way which we can conceive bodies to ope-, 
rate in." 

12. "If, then, external objects be not united to our 
minds, when they produce ideas therein, and yet we per 
ceive these original qualities in such of them as singly fall 
under our senses, it is evident that some motion must be 
thence continued by our nerves or animal spirits, by some 
parts of our bodies to the brain or the seat of sensation, 
there to produce in our minds the particular ideas we have 
of them. And since the extension, figure, number, and 
motion of bodies of an observable bigness, may be perceived 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 245 

at a distance by the sight, it is evident that some singly 
imperceptible bodies must come from them to the eyes, and 
thereby convey to the brain some motion, which produces 
these ideas which we have of them in us." 

13. " How secondary qualities produce their ideas." 
" After the same manner that the ideas of these original 
qualities are produced in us, we may conceive that the 
ideas of secondary qualities are also produced, namely, by 
the operation of insensible particles oojuir-seaoes. For it 
being manifest that there are bodies, and good store of 
bodies, each whereof are so small, that we can not by any 
of our senses discover either their bulk, figure, or motion, 
as is evident in the particles of the air and water, and 
others extremely smaller than those, perhaps _ as much 
smaller than the particles of air and water as the particles 
of air and water are smaller than peas or hailstones : let us 
suppose at present that the different motions and figures, 
bulk and number of such particles, affecting the several or 
gans of our senses, produce in us those different sensations, 
which we have from the colors and smeUs of bodies ; e. g., 
that a violet, by the impulse of such insensible particles 
of matter of peculiar figures and bulks, and in different 
degrees arid modifications of their motions, causes the 
ideas of the blue color and sweet scent of that flower to be 
produced in our minds ; it being no more impossible to 
conceive that God should annex such ideas to such motions, 
with which they have no similitude, than that he should 
annex the idea of pain to the motion of a piece of steel 
dividing our flesh, with which that idea hath no resem 
blance." 

14. " What I have said concerning colors and smells, 
may be understood also of tastes, and sounds, and other 
the like sensible qualities . . . ." 

If you follow up this whole theory to its principle, so 
imperfectly discerned and unfolded by Locke, you will find 
that it rests in the last analysis upon the supposition that. 



246 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

as bodies act upon each other only by contact, and conse 
quently by impulsion, so in like manner the mind can not 
be brought into connection with corporeal things but upon 
the same condition, that there should be contact between 
the mind and body, and of course impulse of the one upon 
the other. Now in sensible ideas, which are involuntary, 
and in which, according to Locke, the mind is passiye, the 
impulse ought to come from the body upon the mind, and 
not from the mind upon the body ; and the contact can not 
take place directly, but indirectly by means of particles. 
Thus the necessity of contact involves that of particles, 
which, emitted by bodies, obtain admittance by the organs 
into the brain, and there introduce into the mind what are 
called sensible ideas. The whole theory starts from the 
necessity of contact, and in its result it comes out to inter 
mediate particles and their action. These particles are, in 
other terms, the sensible species of the Peripatetic Scholas 
ticism, to which modern physics has done justice. There 
is at the present day no more talk about sonorous, visible, 
tangible species ; nor can there of course be any more ques 
tion about their emission ; nor consequently about the 
principle by which they were engendered, namely, the 
necessity of contact and impulse as the condition of ac 
quiring sensible ideas. All this at the present day is only 
an obsolete hypothesis, which it would be superfluous to 
stop to refute. Supposing sensible ideas, however, to be 
thus formed, once obtained under this condition, which is 
yet a chimera, let us see in what these ideas differ from each 
other. 

According to Locke, the ideas which we have of the 
primary qualities of matter have this peculiarity, that they 
resemble their object ; while the ideas we have of secondary 
qualities have this as their peculiarity, that they do not re 
semble their objects: 

B. II. Ch. VIII. 15 : " The ideas of primary qualities 
of bodies are. resemblances of them, and their patterns do 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 247 

really exist in the bodies themselves ; but the ideas pro 
duced in us by those secondary qualities, have no resem-) 
blance of them at all." -^ 

The ideas of secondary qualities do not then resemble 
those qualities. Very well ; I am, therefore, according to 
the theory of Locke, to conclude at once that the ideas of 
secondary qualities are mere chimeras, and that we have 
no knowledge of these qualities. Recollect that according/ 
to Locke all knowledge depends upon ideas, and that there! 
is no knowledge except as far as the idea resembles its ob-l 
ject. Now by the acknowledgment of Locke himself, the 
ideas of secondary qualities do not resemble these qualities ; 
therefore these ideas do not contain any knowledge. It 
can not be said that we have indeed a knowledge, though 
incomplete, of the secondary qualities of bodies. If Locke 
had intended to say only this, he should have said, accord 
ing to his general theory, that the ideas of secondary quali 
ties do represent, though incompletely, their objects. But 
he says they do not represent them at all. They do not 
therefore involve even the most imperfect knowledge ; 
they contain no knowledge ; they are pure chimeras, like 
the ideas of fairies, of centaurs, etc. This consequence is 
necessitated by the theory of Locke. But is it in accord 
ance with the facts which it is our business to explain and 
not to destroy ? Is it in fact true, that we have no knowl 
edge of the secondary qualities of bodies? Far otherwise. 
The secondary qualities of bodies, smell, sound, taste and 
color, are for us decidedly real properties in bodies, to which 
we attribute the power of exciting in us certain modifica 
tion or sensations. We are not only conscious of these sen 
sations, but we believe that they have causes, and that these 
causes are in the bodies. As we could however conceive 
of the bodies independently of these causes or powers, prop 
erties or qualities,, we call these qualities secondary. We 
know them, I grant, only as causes of our sensations ; but 
still we know them in this character, and it is a real knowl- 



218 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

edge undeniably found in all mankind. But according to 
Locke, knowledge is always subject to this condition, that 
the idea upon which knowledge depends shall represent its 
object. You have undeniably the idea of the secondary 
qualities of bodies, so far forth as causes of many of your 
sensations. Very good ! this idea, which you all have, and 
upon which is founded almost all your conduct, and human 
life at large this idea can not be true, can not be the 
foundation of any legitimate knowledge, except upon con 
dition that it shall be conformed to its object, to the causes 
of your sensations, to the secondary qualities of bodies. 
And when I say conformed to them, bear in mind that the 
condition of conformity is nothing less than that of resem 
blance, and that the condition of resemblance is nothing 
less than that of being an image, and that the condition of 
every image is nothing less than that of being a sensible 
and material image ; for there is no immaterial image. 
The question, then, resolves itself to this: whether you 
have, or have not a material image of the secondary quali 
ties of bodies, that is to say, of those properties of bodies 
which cause in you the sensations of color, sound, taste 
and smell. Let us see, then, what the material image of a 
cause can be. A cause, so far forth as cause (and the sec 
ondary properties or qualities of bodies are nothing else), 
has no form, no color ; what material image then can be 
made of it ? A cause, whatever it be, whether you place 
it in the mind, or in what we call matter, is always a cause, 
it is never any thing but a cause ; and so far forth as it is 
a cause, it falls neither under the hand, nor the eye ; it falls 
under none of our senses. It is therefore something of 
which in strictness you can have no sensible idea, no idea- 
image, no material image. Then, since you have not, and 
can not have the image of a cause, and since secondary 
qualities of bodies are given you only as causes, it follows 
that you can not have any true idea, any legitimate knowl 
edge of the secondary qualities of bodies; it follows even 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 24 J 

in strictness that you can not have any knowledge of them, 
legitimate or illegitimate, and that these qualities ought to 
be to you as though they were not ; since you could not 
have attained them except by images more or less faithful 
which you had formed of them, images which in this case 
are absolutely lacking to you. 

The denial of the secondary qualities of bodies is then 
the inevitable result of the theory that every idea, to be 
true, must represent its object. This result is unavoidable; 
experience however gives the lie to it, and in so doing, 
refutes its principle. The ideas of the secondary qualities 
do not resemble their objects in any way, and nevertheless 
they contain a certain knowledge ; it is not therefore true 
that all knowledge supposes the resemblance of the idea to 
its object. 

The theory of Locke breaks to pieces upon the secondary 
qualities of bodies ; let us see if it will be more fortunate 
in respect to primary qualities. 

Solidity is by eminence the primary quality. Solidity 
with its degrees, hardness or softness, penetrability or im 
penetrability, envelops extension, which contains size and 
form ; these are chiefly the primary qualities of bodies. 
Locke declares expressly that the ideas of primary qualities 
resemble those qualities ; this is their title of legitimacy in 
his view. This theory, at first sight, might seem to be 
true in regard to one point, that which respects form. In 
fact, the form of objects which appertains to extension, 
which also appertains to solidity, paints itself upon the 
retina. Experience attests this, and the conformity of 
these images to their objects, seems indeed the foundation 
of the truth of the ideas which we have of the form of ob 
jects. But it is only a false semblance. 

If the resemblance of the image on the retina to the 
form of the external object, is the foundation of our 
knowledge of the form of that object, it follows thai this 

11* 



250 ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 

knowledge could never have been acquired, but upon the 
following conditions : 

/ 1 . That we should know there is some image upon the 
/ retina. 

2. That, by some process, comparing the image upon 
the retina to the external object, we should find the image 
upon the retina, in fact, similar to the object, as to form. 

Both these conditions are necessary ; but are they ful 
filled in the fact of our knowledge of the forms of external 
objects ? By no means. In the first place, the knowledge 
of the image upon the retina is a subsequent acquisition of 
experience and of physiology. The first men who believed 
that they had before their eyes figured bodies knew noth 
in& in the world about the images upon the retina. StiL 1 
further were they from inquiring whether these images, 
of which they knew nothing, were conformed to the forms 
of the bodies which they knew ; and consequently the 
condition imposed upon the human mind of knowing first 
the image upon the retina, and then of verifying the 
conformity of that image with its object, is^iot the process 
which the mind, left to itself and without any system, 
naturally employs in order to know the forms of bodies. 
Again, observe ftwfc that if the accurate painting of the 
form of the object upon the retina explains the secret of 
the perception of that form, it is necessary that this picture, 
this image, should pass from the retina to the optic nerve, 
and from the optic nerve to the brain, which Locke calls 
the audience chamber of the soul ; and from this audience 
chamber it must gain admittance to the mind itself. But 
this process is arrested at every step. From the retina, 
the image must pass to the brain by the optic nerve. 
Now, who does not know that the optic nerve is situated 
in an obscure region impenetrable to the light ? The op 
tic nerve is dark, no image can be painted on it, and our 
image is already lost to us. Further, the brain, that audi 
ence chamber of the soul, is also in the dark ; the sou] 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 251 

which, according to the theory of Locke, must observe the 
retina in order there to meet with the image of the form 
of a body, which must discern this image and its conform 
ity to the original, can make this observation neither upon 
the optic nerve nor the brain. 

We have, so to say, shut up all the avenues of the soul 
against the hypothesis of the idea-image ; in the percep 
tion of the form of objects there are not the three things 
figured objects ; a mind capable of perceiving the figures 
of these objects ; and an intermediate image between the 
real form of the objects and the mind. There are nothing 
but figured objects, and a mind endowed with the faculty 
of perceiving them with their forms. The existence of the 
image of the figure of objects upon the retina is a real fact, 
which is indeed the previous condition of the perception 
of visible appearances, but not the foundation of this per 
ception ; which precedes, but does not in any way consti 
tute nor explain it. The existence of the figure of objects 
upon the retina, which is simply an external condition of 
the phenomena of vision, being transformed into a com 
plete explanation of these phenomena, is the source of the 
hypothesis of the idea-image, so far as respects the percep 
tion of the forms of objects. It has also still another 
source. Not only is the mind endowed with the faculty 
of perceiving the forms of present objects, whenever cer 
tain organic conditions are fulfilled ; but also when these 
objects are absent, it is endowed with the faculty of re 
calling them, not only of knowing what they were, but of 
representing them to itself as they were, and with the 
forms which they had been perceived to have while they 
were present. The memory actually has this imaginative 
power ; we may imagine objects altogether as we perceived 
them ; the fact is unquestionable. But in the imagination 
of the forms of absent objects, as in the perception of the 
forms of present objects, there are only two terms, the ab 
sent objects, and the mind which is able to represent them 



252 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

though absent ; or rather in this case, there is really nothing 
but the mind which, in the absence of the objects, recalls 
them with their forms, as if they were present before it. 
Now in the mind which represents past objects to itself, 
poetry can indeed detach the representation from the ob 
jects, and consider it apart as a proper element subsisting 
by itseff. This is a right of poetry, but not of philosophi 
cal analysis, which can never lawfully convert abstractions 
into realities. Abstraction taken for reality, the participle 
or adjective converted into a substantive, is, then, the 
second source of the hypothesis of the idea-image ; not to 
refer again to the vicious analogies, of the conditions of 
communication between bodies, applied to the mind. 

But to go further. Our discussion has thus far respected 
only phenomena of vision, the form of external objects; 
but how will it be if we come to the other primary qualities 
of bodies ; for instance, the primary quality par excellence, 
namely solidity ? Would you dare revive the scholastic 
hypothesis of the tangible species, in order to provide a 
companion to the visual image upon the retina ? Would 
you put this tangible species upon the mysterious paths of 
the nerves and brain which the image of forms could not 
traverse ? Be it so. Suppose a tangible species ; suppose 
this ide#-image of solidity arrived at the mind, and there 
let us see if it satisfies the fundamental condition of the 
theory of Locke, if it is conformed, or not conformed to 
its model, to solidity itself. What is solidity ? We have 
seen that it is resistance. Where there is no resistance, 
there is to us nothing but ourselves. Where resistance 
begins, there begins for us something besides ourselves, 
the outward, the external, nature, the world. Now if 
solidity is something which resists, it is a resisting cause ; 
and we are here again, in respect to the primary quality 
of bodies, as before in respect to their secondary qualities, 
led back to the idea of cause. Here, then again, in order 
that we may have a legitimate knowledge of the resisting 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 263 

cause, of solidity, it is necessary that we should have an 
idea of it, which is conformed to it, which is similar to it, 
an image, a material image of the resisting cause. Such 
according to Locke is the systematic condition of the 
primary quality of body. But I have shown that there 
can not be a material image of any cause, and of course 
not of a resisting cause, of solidity, the fundamental quality 
of body. 

Thus we have no longer a legitimate idea of the primary 
qualities of bodies, any more than of their secondary quali 
ties, if we are to have it only upon the condition of the 
idea being a material image of its object. But we are not 
yet done ; we are yet only at the threshold of the external 
world. Not only has body primary and secondary quali 
ties, which I have just shown to be incompatible with the 
theory of Locke ; but moreover, we believe that under 
these qualities, there is something which is the subject of 
them, something which has not only a real, but a per 
manent existence, while these qualities are in perpetual 
motion and alteration ; we all believe in the existence of a 
subject, of a substance for these qualities. Now in the 
theory of Locke, the idea of this substance is not legiti 
mate, unless it be conformed to its object, that is, to the 
substance of bodies ; and the idea, to be conformed to its 
object, to resemble it, must be an image, and every image 
must be material. But I ask if it is possible to have a 
material image of substance ? It is obviously impossible. 
Then you have no idea of substance and of the reality of 
bodies. 

Not only are you convinced of the real and substantial 
existence of bodies, but you all believe that these bodies, 
of which the fundamental attribute is solidity, resistance, 
are somewhere, in place, in space. You all have the idea 
of space. But you can not have it except on the condition, 
that the idea you have of it represents it, is its material 
image. But it is, we have seen, one of the characteristics 



231- ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY". 

of space, tliat it can not be confounded with bodies which 
[ill and measure it, but do not constitute it. It is, then, a 
fortiori, impossible that you should have a material image 
of that which has no material existence, when you can 
not have one of the bodies, and of their fundamental or 
accessory attributes. 

It is the same in regard to time. You believe that the 
motions of bodies, and the succession of these different 
motions, take place in time, and you do not confound the 
succession of the motions of bodies with time itself, which 
is indeed measured but not constituted by this succession, 
any more than the aggregate of bodies constitute space. 
You have the idea of time as distinct from all succession. 
If you have it, by the theory of Locke, it is under tho 
condition of having an idea conformed to it, an idea-image. 
But you can not have an idea-image of time, since time is 
distinct from the motion of bodies and does not fall under 
any of the senses ; you can not therefore have a legiti 
mate idea of time. 

I might pursue this criticism still further, but I believe 
I have gone sufficiently far to demonstrate that, if rel 
atively to the external world our ideas are not true ex 
cept upon condition that they are representative ideas 
conformed to their objects, material images of their ob 
jects, we should have no legitimate idea of the external 
world, neither of the secondary nor primary qualities of 
matter, nor of their subject, nor of space, nor of time. 
The theory of a material image results therefore in nothing 
less than the destruction of all legitimate knowledge of 
matter and of the external word. 

The objections which I have just presented are so natu- 
ral and so simple, that Locke could not even lay down the 
problem as he has done, without partially suspecting them, 
and they sufficiently pressed upon him to shake his convic 
tion of the existence of the external world. He does- not 
precisely call it in question, but he acknowledges that upon 





ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 255 

the sole foundation of the representative idea, the knowl 
edge of bodies has not perfect certainty ; he thinks how* 
ever that it goes beyond simple probability. " But yet, if 
after all," says Locke, " any one will question the existence 
of all things, or our knowledge of any thing, I must desire 
him to consider that we have such an assurance of the ex 
istence of things without us as is sufficient to direct us in 
the attaining the good, and avoiding the evil, which is 
caused by them ; which is the important concernment we 
have of being made acquainted with them." B. IY. Ch. 
10, 8. This is almost the language of skepticism. 

Locke, however, is not skeptical in regard to the exist 
ence of bodies ; in spite of his theory of ideas, he is very 
far from being idealistic. On the contrary, he belongs tc 
the great family of peripatetics and sensualists, in which 
the theory of sensible species had the authority of a dogma, 
and the office of giving and explaining the external world. 
Out of sensible species, the seventeenth century in general 
and Locke in particular have made sensible ideas, provided 
with all the qualities of those species, representatives of 
their objects, and emanating from them. There is then no 
idealistic design in the theory of Locke. On the contrary, 
Locke is persuaded that these ideas, so far forth as they are 
representative, are the only solid foundation on which the 
knowledge of external objects can be had; only he half ac 
knowledges, that contrary to his wish, the peripatetic hy 
pothesis of species transformed into the modern theory of 
sensible ideas, turns out aginst his design ; and that al 
though this hypothesis has evidently a material character, 
since his ideas are necessarily material images, yet it is in 
capable of legitimately giving us matter. Judge, then, 
how it must be in regard to the spiritual world, the soul, 
and God. I shall be brief. 

Recollect the general principle of Locke. We have no 
legitimate knowledge of any thing, but upon condition 
that the ideas we have of it be conformed to their object 



256 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

Now all the world believe in the existence of the soul, that 
is to say, in the existence of something in us which feels, 
which wills, which thinks. Even those who do not be 
lieve in the spiritual existence of this subject, have never 
called in question the existence of its faculties, the exist 
ence of the sensibility, for example, or that of will, or of 
thought. Reflect, then : you have no legitimate knowl 
edge of thought, of volition, of sensibility, but upon the 
condition that the ideas you have of them are representa 
tive, and these ideas must be images, and of course mate 
rial images. See then into what an abyss of absurdities 
we are thrown. In order to know thought and volition, 
which are immaterial, it is necessary that we should have a 
material image which resembles them. But what is a mate 
rial image of thought, and of volition ? It is an absurdity 
even in regard to the sensibility. But the absurdity is, if 
possible, still greater, in regard to the substance of these 
faculties, in regard to the soul, and then in regard to the 
unity and identity of this soul, and then in regard to the 
time in which the operations of these mental faculties take 
place, sensations, volitions, and thoughts. 

See, then, the spiritual world fallen away as well as the 
material. Simply from the condition that we have no legit 
imate ideas of our faculties and of their subject, unless 
these ideas be material images of them, it evidently results 
that we have no legitimate knowledge of our soul, and of 
its faculties, of our whole internal being, intellectual and 
moral. Here the difficulty seems even much greater than in 
regard to the material world, or at least the successor of 
Bacon and of Hobbes is more startled by it. In respect 
to the material world, he had acknowledged that his theory 
was liable to some objections, but these objections did riot 
seem to him insurmountable, nor to go far enough to de 
prive us of a certain knowledge of the material world, 
sufficient for our wants. Hereby he pretended to open the 
door only to a semi-skepticism. It was without doubt a 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 257 

weakness ; for the idea of Locke, a material image, not in 
any manner representing bodies, neither complete nor in 
complete, he ought not to have admitted any idea of bodies ; 
lie ought to have gone on to absolute skepticism. Locke, 
however, stops short, both from good sense and from the 
evidence which, in his school, surrounds the senses and the 
objects of the physical world. But when he comes to the 
spiritual world, to which the Sensual School is much less 
attached, the arguments which naturally rise up against 
him from this theory, strike him more forcibly, and he de 
clares (B. IV. Ch. XI. 12), that "we can no more know, 
that there are finite spirits really existing, by the idea we 
have of such beings in our minds, than by the ideas any 
one has of fairies, or centaurs, he can come to know that 
things answering those ideas do really exist." Here it 
would seem is absolute skepticism ; you may think, per 
haps, that the final conclusion of Locke will be, that there 
is no knowledge of finite spirits, nor consequently of our 
soul, nor of any of its faculties ; for the objection is as 
valid against the phenomena of the soul as against its sub 
stance. This is, indeed, the result to which he should have 
gone on ; but he did not dare to do it, for there is no phi 
losopher at once wiser and more inconsistent than Locke. 
What then does he do ? 

In the peril into which his philosophy has driven him, he 
abandons his philosophy, and all philosophy ; and appeals 
to Christianity, to revelation, to faith. By faith, however, 
and by revelation, he does not understand a philosophical 
faith and revelation. He understands faith and revelation 
in the proper theological sense. His conclusion is this: 
" Therefore, concerning the existence of finite spirits, as 
well as several other things, we must content ourselves 
with the evidence of faith." Locke himself, then, meets 
and accepts the inevitable consequences of his theory, to 
which I wished to conduct him. Speaking as a philoso 
pher, and not as a theologian, I said that if we had no 



258 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. ^ 

other reason to believe in the existence of spirit than the 
hypothesis of the representative idea, we had no good 
reason to believe at all. Locke admits it ; he proclaims it 
himself: and he throws himself into the arms of faith. 1 
shall not allow him to rest there. The world of faith is as 
much shut up against him, as the world of mind and of 
matter. He could never have penetrated into it, but by 
the grossest paralogism. Locke has no more right, nay, 
he has even less right, to believe in faith, in revelation, M 
Christianity, than in finite spirits such as we are, and in 
matter which is before us. 

Revelation supposes two things: 1, doctrines emanating 
from God ; 2, a book in which these doctrines are deposited 
and preserved. This book, though its contents may be 
divine and sacred, is itself necessarily material, it is a body ; 
and here I refer Locke to the objections already brought 
forward against the legitimate knowledge of bodies, if we 
have no other ground for believing in them than the idea- 
image which represents them. Thus there is no legitimate 
knowledge of the book, in which are contained the sacred 
doctrines revealed by God. But the book gone, what 
becomes of the doctrines it contained? Besides, these 
doctrines come from God. 

And what is God? A spirit, an infinite spirit, as we 
judge. Now, Locke was not able, a little back, by his 
theory, to admit the legitimate existence of finite spirits ; 
and incredible to tell, in order to make me admit the ex 
istence of finite spirits, he proposes that I should begin by 
admitting the existence of an infinite spirit. But is this 
not to exaplain obscurum per obscurius, [to solve the lesser 
difficulty by presenting a greater] ? See the human mind 
a little while ago deprived of the knowledge of finite 
spirits, because, it can have no idea conformed to them ; 
and now because of its greater facility, having an idea of 
the infinite spirit, an idea perfectly representing its object! 
But if a finite spirit can not be represented by~an idea, 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 259 

much less can the infinite spirit be so represented ; evi 
dently it can not be, under the condition of Locke, that is, 
under the condition of the mind forming an image, and a 
material image of it. There is then, no infinite spirit, no 
God, therefore, no revelation pc-ssible. Everywhere at 
every step, in the theory of Locke, we are plunged from 
depth to depth in the abyss of paralogism. 

If it is true that we have no legitimate knowledge, no 
true idea, but under the condition that this idea represents 
its object, that it is conformed to it, that it is an image of 
it, and (as I have proved to be in strictness the necessary 
result of the hypothesis) a material image of it it follows, 
that we have no legitimate idea of the external world, nor 
of the world of spirits, of souls, of ourselves, and still less 
of God, to whom Locke appeals. Consequently it follows, 
in the last analysis, that we have no true idea of beings, 
and that we have no other legitimate knowledge than that 
of our own ideas ; none of their object, whatever it be, 
even of our own personal being itself. Such a consequence 
overwhelms the theory of ideas, and it is a consequence 
which invincibly follows from this theory.* 

* [Theory of Perception. On the subject of this chapter the reader 
is referred to a very able article on the " Philosophy of Perception," in 
the Edinburgh Review, No. 103, for Oct. 1830, in which the doctrines of 
Reid and Brown are examined. "We regard this article as one of the 
best specimens of philosophical criticism that has recently appeared in the 
English language. It shows great power of thinking great compre 
hension and great acuteness, united with an extent, a depth and accu 
racy of erudition, seldom met together. The writer shows that our 
knowledge of the external world the qualities of matter is direct and 
immediate. " Consciousness declares our knowledge of material qualities 
to be intuitive. . Nor is the fact, as given, denied even by those who dis 
allow its truth." "According" says he, "as the truth of tho fact of 
consciousness in perception is entirely accepted, accepted in part, or 
wholly rejected,>-5za; possible and actual systems of philosophy result : 

" 1. If the veracity of consciousness be unconditionally admitted if 
the intuitive knowledge of mind and matter, and the consequent reality 



200 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

of their antithesis be taken as truths, to be explained if possible, but in 
themselves are held as paramount to all doubt, the doctrine is estab 
lished which we would call the scheme of Natural Realism or Natural 
Dualism. 2. If the veracity of consciousness be allowed to the equi 
poise of the object and subject in the act, but rejected as to the reality 
of their antithesis, the system of Absolute Identity emerges, which re 
duces both mind and matter to phenomenal modifications of the same 
common substance. 3 and 4. If the testimony of consciousness be re 
fused to the co-originality and reciprocal independence of the subject 
and object, two schemes are determined, according as the one or the 
other of the terms is placed as the original and genetic. Is the object 
educed from the subject, Idealism, is the subject educed from the 
object, Materialism is the result. 5. Again, is the consciousness itself 
recognized only as a phenomenon, and the substantial reality of both 
subject and object denied, the issue is Nihilism. 

" 6. These systems are all conclusions from an original interpretation 
of consciousness in perception, carried intrepidly forth to its legitimate 
issue. But there is one scheme which, violating the integrity of this 
fact, and, with the idealist, regarding the object of consciousness in 
perception as only a modification of the percipient subject, endeavors, 
however, to stop short of the negation of an external world, the reality 
of which, and the knowledge of whose reality, it seeks to establish and 
explain by various hypotheses. This scheme, which we would term 
Hypothetical Realism or Hypothetical Dualism, although the most incon 
sequent of all systems, has been embraced, under various forms, by the 
immense majority of philosophers." All the possible forms of Hypothet 
ical Realism, or the representative theory, are reducible, in the opinion 
of the writer, to three, and these have all been actually maintained : 

1. The representative object not a modification of mind. 

2. The representative object a modification of mind, dependent for its 
knowledge, but not for its existence, on the act of consciousness. 

3. The representative, object a modification of mind, non-existent out of 
consciousness ; the idea and its perception only different relations of an act 
(state) really identical. 

Of the six possible systems above given, it is then shown that Reid 
held the first, that of natural realism ; while Dr. Brown held the last, 
that of hypothetical realism ; and of its three forms, adopted the third. 
The writer fully makes out his case, " that Brown s interpretation of the 
fundamental tenot of Reid s philosophy, is not a simple misconception, 
but an absolute reversal of its real and even unambiguous import, and 
: s without a parallel in the whole history of philosophy." 

The writer goes on to demonstrate Brown s inadequate conception of 



ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 261 

the problem in question, his ignorance of the history of opinions on the 
subject, and his remarkable misconception of the very writers whom he 
criticises. In regard to the latter point, among other philosophers Locke 
is mentioned ; and it is principally for the sake of adducing the passage 
in regard to Locke s theory of perception, that I have introduced this 
note. 

" Supposing always that ideas were held to be something distinct from 
their cognition, Reid states it as that philosopher s opinion, [Locke s,] 
that images of external objects were conveyed to the brain ; but whether 
he thought with Descartes" [lego omnino Dr. Clarke,] "and Newton, 
that the images in the brain are perceived by the mind there present, or 
that they are imprinted on the mind itself, is not so evident." This, Dr. 
Brown, nor is he original in the assertion, pronounces a flagrant misrep 
resentation. Not only does he maintain that Locke never conceived 
the idea to be substantially different from the mind, as a material image 
in the brain, but that he never supposed it to have an existence apart 
from the mental energy of which it is the object. Locke, he asserts, 
like Arnauld, considered the idea perceived, and that the percipient act, 
to constitute the same indivisible modification of the conscious mind. 
We shall see. 

" In his language, Locke is, of all philosophers, the most figurative, 
ambiguous, vacillating, various, and even contradictory, as has been 
noticed by Reid, and Stewart, and Brown himself; indeed, we believe 
by every author who has had occasion to comment on this philosopher. 
The opinions of such a writer are not therefore to be assumed from 
isolated and casual expressions which themselves require to be inter 
preted on the general analogy of his system ; and yet this is the only 
ground on which Dr. Brown attempts to establish his conclusions. 
Thus, on the matter under discussion, though really distinguishing, 
Locke verbally confounds the objects of sense and of intellect the ope- 
-ation and its object the object immediate and mediate the object 
and its relations the images of fancy and the notions of understanding. 
Consciousness is converted with perception perception with idea idea 
with the object of perception, and with notion, conception, phantasm, 
representation, sense, meaning, etc. Now, his language, identifying 
ideas and perceptions, appears conformable to a disciple of Arnauld; 
and now, it proclaims him a follower of Digby explaining ideas by 
mechanical impulse, and the propagation of material particles from the 
external reality to the brain. In one passage, the idea would seem an 
organic affection the mere occasion of a spiritual representation; in 
another, a representative image in the brain itself. In employing thus 
indifferently the language of every hypothesis, may we not suspect that 



262 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

he was anxious to be made responsible for none ? One, however, he has 
formally rejected, and that is the very opinion attributed to him by Dr. 
Brown that the idea or object of consciousness in perception, is only a 
modification of the mind itself." 

A passage is then quoted from Locke s Examination of Mallebranche s 
Opinion, published subsequently to his Essay, expressly establishing 
this assertion. It is too long to give here. The reviewer concludes : 
" If it be thus evident that Locke held neither the third form of repre 
sentation that lent to him by Brown nor even the second; it follows 
that Reid did him any thing but injustice in supposing him to maintain 
that ideas are objects either in the brain, or in the mind itself. Even 
the more material of these alternatives has been the one generally attrib 
uted to him by his critics, and the one adopted from him by his disciples. 
Nor is this to be deemed an opinion too monstrous to be entertained by 
BO enlightened a philosopher. It was, as we shall see, the common 
opinion of the age the opinion, in particular, held by the most illus 
trious of his countrymen and cotemporaries by Newton, Clarke, Willis, 
Hook, etc." 



The foregoing note stands as inserted in the first edition of this work. 
^t is proper to mention (what was omitted in the first edition because 
not then known, and has been inadvertently omitted in the subsequent 
editions), that the writer of the article in the Edinburgh Review is Sir 
"William Hamilton, Professor of Philosophy in the University of Edin 
burgh, whose reputation for metaphysical ability and profound philosoph 
ical learning is now too well and widely known to need any remark. 

This article, together with various other pieces, has been published 

in a volume entitled : " Discussions on Philosophy and Literature, Educa 
tion and University Reform. By Sir William Hamilton, Bart. London 
and Edinburgh, 1852." 

He has also published : " The works of Thomas Reid, D.D., now fully 
collected with selections from his unpublished letters. Preface, Notes, and 
Supplementary Dissertations. By Sir William Hamilton, Bart. Third 
edition. London and Edinburgh, 1852." 

A volume has been put out in this country by Mr. 0. W. Wight. 
Third edition. New York, 1855, under the title: "Philosophy of Sit 
William Hamilton, etc." 

The article of the Edinburgh Review from which the foregoing citations 
are made, may be found in the Discussions, pp. 38-98 ; and in Mr. Wight s 
volume, p. 165. Part II. Philosophy of Perception, Chap. I. "Elucidation 
of Reid s Doctrine of Perception, and its Defense against Sir Thomas 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 2G3 

Frown." Mr. Wight by the way gives Dr. Brown a title to which I am 
not aware that he had any claim inadvertently no doubt ; for it is not 
to be imagined that he could confound the successor and critic of Reid 
with old Sir Thomas Browne, author of the JReligio Medici, who died 
near thirty years before Reid waa born. TB."] 



CHAPTER VII. 

THEORY OF REPRESENTATIVE IDEAS CONTINUED. 

jfeesumption and continuation of the preceding chapter. Of the idea, not 
now considered in relation to the object which it should represent, but 
in relation to the mind which perceives it, and in which it is found. 
The idea-image, idea taken materially, implies a material subject; 
from hence materialism. Taken spiritually, it can give neither bodies 
aor spirit. That the representative idea, laid down as the sole primi 
jive datum of the mind, in the inquiry after reality, condemns us to a 
paralogism ; since no representative idea can be decided to represent 
correctly or incorrectly, except by comparing it with its original, with 
the reality itself, to which, however, by the hypothesis, we can not 
arrive but by the idea. That knowledge is direct, and without an 
intermediate. Of judgments, of propositions and ideas. Return to 
the question of innate ideas, 

I NOW resume and complete the last lecture. Accord 
ing to Locke, knowledge consists entirely in the relation 
of the idea to its object ; and this knowledge is true or 
false, according as the relation of the idea to the object is 
a relation of conformity or of non-conformity. An idea, 
to be true, to be the foundation of real knowledge, must 
be similar to its object, must represent it, must be an image 
of it. Now what is the condition of an idea-image? 
There is no image without figure, without something of 
extension, without something sensible and material. The 
idea-image then implies something material; and if the 
truth of knowledge resolves itself into the conformity of 
the idea to its object, it resolves itself into the conformity 
of an image, taken materially, to its object, of whatever 
sort the object be. 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 2fi. p > 

Observe that the representative idea, as the basis of 
knowledge, is in Locke a universal theory, without limit, 
without exception. It should then explain all knowledge ; 
it should go as far as human knowledge can go ; it should 
embrace God, spirits, and bodies, for all this falls more or 
less under knowledge. If then we can know nothing, 
neither God, nor spirits, nor bodies, except by the ideas 
which represent them, and which represent them by being 
material images of them, the question is: whether we have 
ideas of these objects, these beings, which are faithful 
images of them, taken materially. 

The problem thus reduced to its most simple expression, 
lias been easily solved. I think it has been clearly de 
monstrated that the external world itself, which the idea- 
image would seem most easily to give us, entirely escapes 
us, if it can be got at only by the idea-image ; for there is 
no sensible idea which can be an image of the world, of 
external objects, of bodies. 

In regard to bodies, we have considered first their sec 
ondary qualities so called, which you know are properties 
in their nature out of our reach, and appreciable only 
by their eifects, that is to say, are pure causes, the causes 
of our sensations. Now it is evident there is, and car. be 
no material image of a cause. In respect to the primary 
qualities of bodies, there is one among them, namely- 
figure, which would seem proper to be represented by the 
idea-image; and in fact it is certain that the visible ap 
pearance, the figure of external bodies placed before the 
organ of vision, is painted upon the retina. But, 1, the 
person who first knew the visible figure of a body was en 
tirely ignorant that this visible figure was painted upon 
liis retina ; it is not, then, to the knowledge of this picture 
upon the retina and of the conformity of this picture to 
its object, that the knowledge of the reality of the exter 
nal figure is owing : then 2, this picture stops at the retina ; 
in order to go to the brain, which, as Locke says, is the 

12 



266 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

audience-chamber of the mind, it is necessary that it should 
traverse the optic nerve, which is in an obsure region ; and 
even if the optic nerve were in a luminous position, the 
image, after having traversed it, and arrived at the brain, 
which is undeniably obscure, would perish in the darkness 
of that organ, before arriving at the mind. Thus it is in 
deed the condition of the phenomena of vision that there 
hould be an image of the object upon the retina, but 
only its external condition, unknown to the soul itself, and 
not its foundation and explanation. Besides, if the idea- 
image plays a certain part in the phenomena of vision, it 
does not apply at all to other phenomena, to those of 
touch, for example, from which we derive the knowledge 
of the primary quality of body, namely of solidity, resist 
ance. We have demonstrated that there can be no idea- 
image of resistance, of solidity ; for the idea of solidity 
resolves itself into the idea of a cause, a resisting cause, 
and it has been demonstrated that there can be no idea- 
image of cause. 

So much for the qualities of bodies, the primary as well 
as the secondary. If the idea-image represents no quality 
of bodies, still less can it represent the subject of these 
qualities, that substratum which escapes the grasp of the 
senses, and which of course can fall under no image 
borrowed from the senses. Space also, which must not be 
confounded with bodies inclosed by it, can not be given 
by an idea-image. It is the same in respect to time ; it is 
the same in respect to all the cognitions involved in the 
general knowledge of the external world. Since, then, the 
idea-image can represent only forms, and plays no part ex 
cept in the phenomena of vision, and even there is only 
the condition of those phenomena, it follows that if the 
external world has no other way of arriving at the intelli 
gence than that of the representative idea, it does not and 
can not arrive there at all. 

The difficulties of the hypothesis of a representative 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 267 

idea are greatly increased when we come to consider the 
spiritual world. Locke acknowledges these difficulties. 
He allows that, since in fact the idea-image can not rep 
resent the qualities of spirits, because there is no image 
of that which has no figure, either we must renounce the 
knowledge of spirit, or to obtain it we must have recourse 
to faith, to revelation. But revelation is for us a book 
which contains doctrines revealed by God. Here there 
are, then, two things, a book, and God. As to the book, 
we refer it to the external world : no representative idea 
being able to give certain knowledge of a sensible object, 
consequently giving none of a book, this book, sacred or 
not, can never be certainly known, nor be the foundation 
of certain knowledge of spiritual existence. God remains ; 
but to have recourse to God in order to legitimate the 
knowledge of spirit, is to have recourse to spirit, in order 
to legitimate the knowledge of spirit ; it is to take for 
granted the thing in question. The only difference there 
is between the spirit of God, and our own, is that the 
spirit of God is infinite, while our spirit is finite, which, 
far from diminishing the difficulty, increases it. Thus the 
representative idea, turned every way, can give no real 
knowledge, neither of bodies, nor of spirits, and still less 
the knowledge of the infinite spirit to whom Locke gratuit 
ously appeals. 

Absolute skepticism, then, is the inevitable consequence 
of the theory of the representative idea; and absolute 
skepticism is here nothing less than absolute nihilism. In 
fact you have legitimately by this theory, neither the sec 
ondary qualities of bodies, nor their primary qualities, nor 
the subject of these qualities, nor space in which the bodies 
are located, nor time in which their motions are accom 
plished. Still less have you legitimately the qualities of 
your mind, or your mind itself, or that of your fellow-beings 
the finite mind ; and still less God the infinite mind. 
You have then nothing, absolutely nothing, but the idea 



208 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

itself, that idea which ought to represent every thing, and 
which represents nothing, and suffers no real knowledge to 
come to you. 

You see then where we are ; but our difficulties are far 
from being exhausted. We have hitherto considered the 
idea-image in its relation to external objects which it 
should represent, namely, to bodies, to our spirits, and to 
God. Let us now consider it in another view, in its rela 
tion to the mind which must perceive it, and in which it 
must be found. 

The idea represents neither body, nor spirit, nor God ; 
it can then give no object. This we have demonstrated. 
But it necessarily is in a subject. How is it there ? What 
is the relation of the idea, not now to its object, but to its 
subject? 

Recollect the condition to which we have condemned 
the representative idea. If it represents, it must have in 
itself something of figure, something material ; it is, then, 
something material. Look, then, at the representative idea 
which is something material in the subject where it is 
found. But it is clear that the subject of the idea, the 
subject which perceives and contains and possesses the 
idea, can be of no other nature than the idea itself. The 
representative idea is something figured, like the shadows 
which paint themselves in a magic lantern ; it can then 
exist only in something of an analogous kind, in a subject 
of the same nature, figured as the idea is, having parts, 
being extended and material, as that is. Hence, the de 
struction of the simplicity and spirituality of the subject 
of the idea, that is to say, of the soul ; or in a word, 
materialism is the inevitable consequence of the theory of 
the representative idea, considered in relation to its subject. 

This result was already in the principle ; this consequence 
does nothing but expose the vice of the origin of the rep 
resentative idea. In fact, the origin of theory, as you 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 269 

know, is in the hypothesis that the mind does not know 
bodies, does not communicate with bodies, except in the 
same way that bodies communicate with one another. Now 
bodies communicate either by immediate impulse one upon 
the other, or indirectly by the intermediation of one or 
more bodies receiving and communicating the impulse, so 
that it is always impulse, mediate or immediate, which forms 
the communication between bodies. If mind, then, may 1 ! 
know bodies, it can know them only in the way in which 
bodies communicate with each other, by impulse. But we 
see no immediate and direct impulse of bodies upon the 
mind, nor of the mind upon bodies; the impulse must then 
be from a distance, that is, by something intermediate. This 
intermediate is the idea. The idea emanates from the body, 
and through the senses arrives at the mind. The idea 
emanates from bodies that is its first characteristic ; the 
second is, that it represents them. Representation is here 
founded upon the emission. Now emission, which is the 
first root of the representative idea, necessarily makes it 
material. This shows already a strong inclination toward 
materialism ; look now at something which makes this ten 
dency much stronger. Not only does the mind gain no 
knowledge of bodies, except as bodies communicate with 
one another ; but the mind knows minds only as it knows, 
bodies, by the intermediation of the representative idea. | 
A theory material in its origin, is first applied to the knowl 
edge of bodies, then transferred to the knowledge of spirit. 
It is then altogether natural that the last expression of this 
theory should be materialism. And I do not impose upon 
this theory consequences logically necessary, but which 
have not been deduced from it. It is a matter of fact 
that upon this theory of the representative idea, the school 
of Locke in part grounds its positive denial of the spiritu 
ality of the soul. According to that school many ideas in 
the mind, taken materially, suppose something extended in 
the mind ; and even a single idea being an image, is already 



270 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

something figured, which supposes a COT responding subject; 
The common expression that ideas make an impression on 
the mind is not in this school, a metaphor ; it is the actual 
reality. I refer you to Hartley, to Darwin, to Priestley, and 
to their English and other successors. We shall take them 
up in due time and order. 

But does any one wish to save the spirituality of the 
soul, and still preserve the theory of the representative 
idea? Then on the one side, there are material ideas, 
material images, and on the other, a simple soul, and con 
sequently between the modification and its subject an abyss. 
How to bridge over this abyss ? What relation is there 
between the material image and the subject of this image, 
if this subject is held to be simple, unextended, spiritual ? 
It is clearly necessary to find some intermediates between 
the idea-images and their subject, the soul. The images 
were before regarded as the media between bodies and 
the soul ; but now media are necessary between those first 
media or the idea-images and the soul. New media must 
be found, that is to say, new ideas. But these new ideas, 
in order to serve as media between the first ideas and the 
soul, must represent those ideas; and in order to represent 
images they must themselves be images, and if images, 
then material. The difficulty therefore perpetually returns ; 
either the idea-images do not enter the soul, or they make 
the soul material. The attempt is in vain made to subtil 
ize these ideas, to refine the intermediate ; either these re 
finements still leave it material, and of course the materi 
ality of the image involves the materiality of its subject ; 
or the idea-image, as material, must be absolutely given up, 
and retaining the theory of the representative idea, the 
idea must be considered as spiritual. 

This has been done. The idea, as a material image, has 
been abandoned for a spiritual idea. But what is the result 
of this modification of the theory under examination ? I 
grant that if the idea is spiritual, it permits a spiritual sub- 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 271 

ject ; it gives room for believing in the simplicity and 
spirituality of the soul. But then the hypothesis of emis 
sion is evidently destroyed, and along with it, the theory 
of representation. Indeed, I ask what is this spiritual idea 
as the image of a material object ? The mind has none of 
these fundamental properties which constitute what we 
call matter ; it has then neither solidity nor extension nor 
figure. But how can that which is neither solid, nor ex 
tended, nor figured, represent that which is solid, extended, 
figured ? What can the spiritual idea of a solid be ? What 
the spiritual idea of extension, of form ? It is evident 
that the spiritual idea can not represent body. And can it 
any better represent spirit ; still less ; for once again, there 
is no representation where there is no resemblance, and 
there is no resemblance except between figures or forms. 
That which is figured can resemble that which is figured ; 
but where there is no figure, there is no possible matter for 
resemblance, nor consequently for representation. Spirit 
can not represent spirit. A spiritual idea can not in any 
way represent any spiritual quality nor any spiritual sub 
ject ; and the spiritual idea which destroys the possible 
Knowledge of body, destroys no less, nay even more de 
cidedly destroys the possible knowledge of spirit, of finite 
spirits such as we are, and of the infinite spirit, God. Thus 
from the bosom of Sensualism there proceeds a kind of 
idealism, which along with matter does away also with mind 
and with God himself. And I beg you not to think, that 
it is merely reasoning which derives these new consequences 
from the theory of ideas. As Hartley and Priestley prove 
that I have not gratuitously derived materialism from the 
the theory of ideas, taken as material images ; so the his 
tory of another branch of the school of Locke proves that 
it is not I who condemn the theory of the spiritual idea to 
the necessity of destroying both body and spirit. That it 
destroys body, seek in Berkeley,* who armed himself with 
* First Series, VoL L Lect. VIII. p. 43, and Yol. IY. Lect. XX. p. 359. 



272 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

this theory, in order to deny all material existence. That 
it destroys spirit, seek in Hume,* who taking from the 
hands of Berkeley the arms he had used for the destruc 
tion of the material world, and turning them against the 
spiritual world, has destroyed both the finite spirit which 
we are, and the infinite spirit, both the human soul and God. 

We must go the extent of these principles. The repre 
sentative idea considered relatively to its subject and as a 
material image, conducts directly to materialism; taken 
spiritually, it leads to the destruction of body and of spirit, 
to absolute skepticism and absolute nihilism. Now it is an 
unquestionable fact that we have the knowledge of bodies, 
that we have the knowledge of our mind. We have this 
twofold knowledge ; and yet we could not have obtained 
it by the theory of the representative idea. This theory 
therefore does not exhibit the true process of the human 
mind. According to Locke, the representative idea is the 
only way of legitimate knowledge ; then this way failing 
us, we are in the absolute impossibility of ever arriving at 
knowledge. We do arrive at it, however ; consequently 
we arrive at it in some other way than by the representa 
tive idea, and consequently, again, the theory of the re 
presentative idea is a chimera. 

I now go further. I take entirely different ground. 
I will admit that the idea has a representative office ; I will 
admit the reality of this representation ; I will believe with 
Locke and all his partisans, that we know only through 
representative ideas, and that in fact ideas have the won 
derful property of representing their objects. Let all this 
be so. But on what condition do ideas represent things? 
On the condition, you know, of being conformed to them. 
I take for granted that if we did not know that the idea 
was conformed to its object, we should not know that it 

* First Scries, Vol. I. Lect. X, and Yol. IV. Lect. XX, 360-369. [See 
in the Appendix the passages referred to in this and the preceding note 
Tii.J 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 273 

represented it ; we should have no true knowledge of this 
object. And again, upon what- condition can AVC know 
that an idea is conformed to its object, is a faithful copy 
of the original which it represents ? Nothing more simple. 
The condition is that we should know the original. It is 
necessary that we should have before our eyes both the 
original and the copy, in order to compare the copy with 
the original, and to pronounce that the copy is in feet a 
faithful copy of the original. But suppose we have not 
the original, what could we say of the copy ? Could you 
say, in the absence of the original, that the copy which 
alone is before your eyes, is a faithful copy of the original 
which you do not see, which you have never seen ? Cer 
tainly not. You could not be sure that the copy is a faith 
ful copy, nor an unfaithful copy ; you could not even affirm 
that it is a copy. If we know things only through ideas, 
and if we know them only on the condition that the ideas 
faithfully represent them, we can know that the ideas do 
faithfully represent them only by seeing on the one hand 
the things themselves, and on the other the ideas of them. 
Then only could we pronounce that the ideas are con 
formed to their objects. Thus, to know if you have a 
true idea of God, of the soul, of bodies, you must have, on 
the one hand, God, the soul, and bodies, and on the other, 
the idea of God, the idea of the soul, and the idea of 
bodies, in order that by comparing the idea with its object, 
you may be able to decide whether it is or is not conformed 
to its object. Let us choose an example. 

I wish to know, if the idea which I have of body is true. 
It is necessary that I should have both the idea which I 
form of body, and the body itself; then that I should com 
pare them, confront them, and decide. 

I take then from the hands of Locke the idea of body, 
just as Locke has himself furnished me with it. To know 
if it is true, I must compare it, I must confront it with 
body itself. This supposes that I know body; for if I do 

12* 



274 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

not know it, with what shall I compare the idea of body 
in order to know if it is true or false ? We must then 
suppose that I know body. But how could I come to 
know it ? By the theory of Locke, you know and you 
can know nothing but by ideas which represent things to 
you. Now I know this body ; then by the theory of 
Locke, I know it only by the ideas which represent it to 
me ; therefore I do not know this body itself, the body 
which it is necessary for me to know in order to compare 
it with the idea that I have of it ; I know only its idea, and 
it is its idea alone that I can compare with its idea, that is 
to say, I shall compare an idea with an idea, a copy with a 
copy. Here is still no original. The comparison, then, 
the verification, is impossible. That the verification may 
conduct me to a result, it is necessary that this second idea 
which I have of body, in the knowledge which I am sup 
posed to have of body, should be a true idea, should be 
conformed to its object. But I can not know that this 
second idea is true, except on the condition that I compare 
it ; and with what ? With the body, with the original. 
It is therefore necessary that I should know the body in 
some other way, in order to decide whether this second 
idea is conformed to it. Let us see then. I know the 
body ; but how do I know it. By the theory of Locke I 
never know it except by the idea I can have of it ; there 
is here, again, nothing but an idea with which I can com 
pare the second idea I had of body. I can not pass beyond 
the idea ; go on in this way, as long as you please, you go 
round in a circle of ideas from which you can not break 
forth, and which never allow you to get at the real object, 
nor lay the foundation of a legitimate comparison ; since a 
comparison supposes that you liave on the one band the 
copy, and on the other the original ; while in fact you have 
nothing but an idea, and then a second idea, and thus on, 
and of course can compare nothing but the ideas, the 
copies And again, even to decide that they are copies, 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 275 

it is necessary that you should have had the original itself, 
which yet escapes, and forever will escape your grasp, in 
every theory of knowledge which subjects the mind to the 
necessity of knowing only through the intermediation of 
representative ideas. 

Thus in the last analysis, the object, the original, forever 
escapes the immediate grasp of the human mind, can 
never be brought under its regard, nor consequently be 
the basis of a comparison with the copy, the idea. You 
can never know therefore that the idea which you have of 
body is conformed or not conformed, faithful or unfaithful, 
true or false. You will have it without knowing even 
whether it has any object or not. 

It is impossible to remain in this predicament ; and to 
assist Locke, I will now make a supposition. I will now 
suppose, that in fact we have before our eyes not only the 
idea of the original, but the original itself. I will suppose, 
that we know the original directly ; the comparison is then 
possible. Let us go on to make it. Previously, however, 
I will remark, that the supposition I have made of an 
original directly known, which is the necessary basis of all 
comparison, but which comparison is the necessary basis of 
the theory of Locke this supposition just destroys en 
tirely the theory. For if w r e suppose that we have an 
original which we know directly, we suppose that we can 
know in some other way than by representative ideas. 

But I will proceed with the supposition ; and I ask 
whether this original, which we know directly, and without 
the medium of representative ideas, is a chimera ? No ; if it 
were, to compare an idea with a chimerical object would 
lead you to nothing. You suppose, then, that it is indeed 
the original, the true original, the object, the body; and 
you suppose that the knowledge you have of it is certain 
knowledge, knowledge which leaves nothing to be desired. 
See then what is your position. You have, on the one 
hand, the certain knowledge of body, on the other you 



276 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

have an idea of this body, and you wish to know whether 
it is faithful or not. On these terms, the comparison is 
very easy; it is made of itself; having the copy and the 
original, you can easily tell if the one represents the other. 
But this comparison, necessary by the theory, and now [by 
supposition] possible and easy, is also perfectly useless. 
What indeed was the object of this comparison ? It was 
to obtain a certain knowledge of body. That is what you 
were seeking after. In order to get at it, you place the 
original beside the copy. But if you take for granted that 
you have the original, that is to say, certain knowledge of 
the body, the whole thing is done ; there is nothing more 
to do. Let alone your comparison, your verification. Do 
not give yourself the trouble to investigate whether the 
idea is conformed or not to the original. You possess the 
original ; that is enough ; you possess the very knowledge 
you were seeking to gain. Thus without having the certain 
knowledge of the original, you could never know whether 
the idea you have is faithful or not, and all comparison 
would be impossible ; and as soon as you have the original, 
it is undoubtedly very easy to compare the idea with the 
reality ; but since you have the reality, it is altogether use 
less to compare the idea with it ; you have what you were 
in search of, and the very condition of the theory, the com 
parison namely which it requires, is precisely the taking 
for granted the knowledge which you are seeking from the 
theory : that is a paralogism, [here a begging the question.] 
Such is the criticism, a little subtle, but exact, which 
pursuing in all its turnings the theory of the representative 
idea, destroys and confounds it on every hand. Either 
the representative idea does not represent, and can not 
represent, and in this case, if we have no other means of 
knowing things, we are condemned never to know them ; 
we are condemned to skepticism, more or less extensive, 
according as we are more or less consistent, and if we 
will be perfectly consistent, to absolute skepticism both in 



ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 277 

respect to matter and mind, that is to say, to absolute 
ijhilism. Or else the idea does represent its object; and 
in this case we can know that it faithfully represents its 
object only so far as we have the original, that is, so far 
only as we know matter and mind, things themselves, in 
some other way ; and then the intervention of the repre 
sentative idea is possible, but it is useless. Its truth, the 
conformity of the idea to its object, can be demonstrated 
only by a supposition, which overthrows the very theory 
it was designed to sustain. 

Let us now deduce from this criticism the consequences 
it gives. 

First consequence : we know matter and mind, the 
world, the soul, and God, otherwise than by representa 
tive ideas. Second and more general consequence : in 
order to know beings we have no need of an intermediate. 
We know things directly and without the medium of 
ideas, or of any other medium. The mind is subject to 
certain conditions, but when these conditions are once sup 
plied, it enters into exercise, and knows, for the sole 
reason that it is endowed with the ability of knowing. 

The true history of the understanding confirms this im 
portant result, and completely puts the theory of ideas in 
full light. 

Primitively nothing is abstract, nothing is general ; 
every thing is particular, every thing is concrete. The 
understanding, as I have proved, does not begin with these 
formulas : there is no modification without its subject : 
there is no body without space, etc. ; but a modification 
being given, it conceives a particular subject of this modi 
fication ;. a body being given, it conceives that this body is 
in a space ; a particular succession being given, it conceives 
that this particular succession is in a determinate time, etc. 
It is so with all our primiti/e conceptions; they are all 
particular, determinate, concrete. Moreover, as I have 
also shown, they are blended together, all our faculties 



278 ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 

entering into exercise simultaneously, or nearly so. There 
is no consciousness of the slightest sensation without an 
act of attention, that is to say, without some putting forth 
of the will ; there is no volition without the sentiment of 
an internal causative power ; no sensation perceived with 
out reference to an external cause and to the world, which 
we immediately conceive as in a space and in a time, etc. 
In fine, our primitive conceptions present moreover two 
distinct characteristics; some are contingent, others are 
necessary. Under the eye of consciousness there may be 
a sensation of pleasure or of pain, which I perceive as 
really existing ; but this sensation may vary, change, dis 
appear. From hence very soon arises the conviction that 
this sensible phenomenon which I notice, is indeed real, 
but that it might exist or might not exist, and therefore 
I might feel it or not feel it. This is a characteristic which 
philosophy will afterward designate as contingent. But 
when I conceive that a body is in space ; if I endeavor to 
conceive the contrary that a bofly may be without space, 
1 can not succeed. This conception of space is one which 
philosophy will designate by the term necessary. But from 
whence do all our conceptions, contingent or necessary, 
come ? From the faculty of conceiving, which is within 
us, by whatever name you call this faculty of which w r e are 
all conscious mind, reason, thought, understanding, or 
intelligence. The operations of this faculty, our concep 
tions, are essentially affirmative, if not orally, yet mentally. 
To deny, even, is to affirm ; for it is to affirm the contrary 
of what had been first affirmed. To doubt also, is to affirm ; 
for it is to affirm uncertainty. Besides, we evidently do 
not begin by doubt or negation, but by affirmation. ISfow, 
to affirm in any way, is to judge. If, then, every intellec 
tual operation resolves itself into an operation of judgment, 
all our conceptions, whether contingent or necessary, re 
solve themselves into judgments contingent or necessary; 
and all our primitive operations being concrete and syn 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

thetic, it follows that all the primitive judgments, supposed 
by these operations, are also exercised under this form. 

Such is the primitive scene of the intelligence. Grad 
ually the intelligence unfolds itself. In the progress of 
this development language supervenes, which reflects the 
understanding, and brings it, so to say, out of itself. If 
you open the grammars, you will see that they all begin 
with the elements and go to propositions, that is, they 
begin by analysis and end by synthesis. But in reality the 
process is not so. When the mind translates itself into 
language, the primary expressions of its judgments are, 
like the judgments themselves, concrete and synthetic. 
Its first products are not words, but phrases, propositions, 
and very complex propositions. A primitive proposition 
is a whole, which corresponds to the natural synthesis by 
which the mind begins. These primitive propositions are 
by no means abstract propositions such as these : There is 
no quality without a subject; there is no body without 
space containing it ; and the like ; but they are all partic 
ular, such as : I exist ; this body exists ; such a body is in 
that space ; God exists, etc. These are propositions which 
refer to a particular and determinate object, which is either 
self, or body, or God. But after having expressed its 
primitive, concrete and synthetic judgments by concrete 
and synthetic propositions, the mind operates upon these 
judgments by abstraction ; it neglects that which is con 
crete in them to consider only the form of them, for ex 
ample, the character of necessity with which many of them 
are invested, and which, when disengaged and developed, 
instead of the concrete propositions : I exist ; these bodies 
are in such a space, etc. ; gives the abstract propositions : 
There can be no body without space; there can be no 
modification without a subject ; there can be no succession 
without time, etc. The general was at first enveloped in 
the particular ; then you disengage the general from the 
particular, and you express it by itself. But I have else- 



280 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

where sufficiently explained the formation of general prop 
ositions.* 

Language is the sign of the mind, of its operations and 
of their development. It expresses primitive, concrete 
and synthetic judgments, by primitive propositions them 
selves concrete and synthetic. The judgments are grad 
ually generalized by abstraction, and in their turn the 
propositions become general and abstract ; upon these 
abstractions abstraction operates new abstractions. Ab 
stract propositions, the signs of abstract judgments, arc 
themselves complex, and contain several elements. We 
abstract these elements in order to consider them sepa 
rately. These elements are called ideas. It is a great 
error to suppose that we have first these elements, with 
out having the whole of which they are a part. We do 
not begin by propositions, but by judgments; the judg 
ments do not come from the propositions, but the proposi 
tions come from the judgments, which themselves come 
from the faculty of judging, which is grounded in the 
original capacity of the mind. A fortiori, we do not begin 
by ideas ; for ideas are given us in th$ propositions. 
Take, for example, the idea of space. It is not given us 
by itself, but in this complete proposition : there is no 
body without space, which proposition is only the form of 
a judgment. Take away the proposition, which would not 
be made without the judgment, and you have not the 
ideas; but as soon as language permits you to translate 
your judgments into propositions, then you can consider 
separately the different elements of these propositions, that 
is to say, ideas separately from each other. To speak, 
strictly, there are in nature no propositions, neither con-| 
crete nor abstract, particular nor general, and still less are 
there ideas in nature. If by ideas be understood some 
thing real, which exists independently ol language, and 
which is an intermediate between beings and the mind, ] 
* Chap. IV. 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 28. 

eay tli at there are absolutely no ideas. There is nothing 
real except things, and the mind with its operations, that 
is, its judgments. Then come languages, which in some 
sort create a new world, at once spiritual and material, 
thotie symbolic beings which are called signs, by the help 
of which they give a kind of external and independent 
existence to the results of mental operations. Thus, in 
expressing judgments or propositions, they have the ap 
pearance of giving reality to those propositions. The 
same is the case in respect to ideas. Ideas are no more 
real than propositions ; they have the same reality, the 
reality of abstractions, to which language attaches a nomi 
nal and conventional existence. Every language is at once 
an analyst and a poet ; it makes abstractions and it reali/es 
them. This is the condition of every language : we must 
be resigned to it, and speak in figures, provided we know 
what we are doing. Thus all the world talk of having an 
idea of a thing, of having a clear or obscure idea, etc. ; but 
by this nobody intends to say that he has nc; knowledge 
of things, except by means of certain intermediate things 
called ideas; it is merely intended to, mark thereby the 
operation of the mind in reference to such a thing, the 
operation by which the mind knows the thing, knows it 
more or less, etc. 

We talk also of representing a thing, and frequently a 
thing which falls not under the senses ; this is merely say* 
ing that we know it, comprehend it ; saying it, that is, by 
using a metaphor borrowed from the phenomena of the 
senses, and froni" the sense whose use is the most frequent, 
that of sight. Taste is ordinarily the sole judge of the 
employment of these figures. This metaphorical style m.iy 
be carried, and is frequently carried, very far without ob 
scurity or error. I absolve, then, the ordinary language 
of the bulk of mankind ; and I believe that we may also 
absolve that of most philosophers, who commonly have 
spoken as tl/e people, without being more absurd than the 



282 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

people. It is impossible, in fact, to forbid the philosopher 
all metaphors ; the only law which it is necessary to impose 
upon him is, not to insist upon metaphors, not t^o convert 
them into theories. Perhaps the Scotch school, which has 
taken up in the eighteenth century the old controversy 
aginst the representative idea, in the name of the common 
sense of the human race, has not always been sufficiently 
aware that philosophers also make a part of the human race ; 
perhaps it has imputed too much to the schools, and been 
too willing to see every where the theory which it had un 
dertaken to combat.* But it has certainly rendered an 
eminent service to philosophy, in demonstrating that the 
idea-image is at the bottom nothing but a metaphor, and 
in doing justice to this metaphor if seriously taken as 
endowed with a representative power. This latter is the 
vice into which Locke has fallen, and I have thought it 
needful to signalize it to you as one of the most perilous 
rocks of the Sensual school. 


From the point at which we now have arrived, we can 

easily judge of the doctrine of innate ideas, the refutation 
of which occupies the whole of the First Book of the Es 
say on the Understanding.! The time has now come to 
explain ourselves concerning this doctrine, and concerning 
Locke s refutation of it. Locke divides the general doc 
trine of innate ideas into two points, general propositions 
or maxims, and ideas. Now, we likewise reject the doc 
trine of innate propositions and ideas, and for this very 
simple reason : because there _areJ.n nature neither propo- 

* See the development and confirmation of this doubt, First Series 
Vol. IV, Lecture XXII. p. 508, etc., [where Cousin vindicates Des 
cartes against the misjudgment of Reid. He says : " Reid passed his 
life so much in the midst of the representative idea theory of Locke, of 
Berkeley, and of Hume, that he saw it every where ; I say every where 
strictly and literally; there is not a single philosopher, ancient or modern, 
in whom he did not find it." Tu.] f See Chup. II. 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 283 

sitions nor ideas. What is there in nature ? Besides bodies 
there is nothing except minds, and among these, that 
which we are, which conceives and knows directly things, 
minds and bodies. And in the order of mind what is 
there innate? Nothing but the mind itself, the under 
standing, the faculty of knowing. The understanding, as 
Leibnitz has profoundly said, is innate to itself; the devel 
opment of the understanding is equally innate, in thi 
sense, that it can not but take place, when the understand 
ing is once given, with the power which is proper to it, 
[and the conditions of its development supplied.] And, as 
you have seen the development of the understanding are 
the judgments which it passes and the knowledge implied 
in those judgments. Undoubtedly these judgments have 
conditions, which belong to the domain of experience. 
Take away experience, and there is nothing in the senses, 
nothing in the consciousness, and consequently nothing in 
the understanding. But is this condition the absolute law 
of the understanding ? Might it not still judge and de 
velop itself, without the aid of experience, without an or 
ganic impression, without a sensation ? I neither affirm 
nor deny it ; hypotheses nonfingo, as Newton said, I am not 
framing hypotheses; I state what is, without inquiring 
what might be. I say, that in the limits of the present 
state, it is an undeniable fact, that unless certain experi 
mental conditions are supplied, the mind does not enter 
into operation, does not judge ; but I say at the same time, 
that as soon as these conditions are fulfilled, the mind, in 
virtue of its own energy, develops itself, thinks, conceives, 
judges, and knows a multitude of things,, which fall 
neither under consciousness, nor under the senses, as time, 
space, external causes, existences, and its own existence. 
There are no innate ideas, any more than innate proposi 
tions ; but there is an energy innate in the understanding, 
which projects itself in primitive judgments, which judg 
ments, when language comes in, express themselves in 



284 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

propositions, which propositions, decomposed by abstraction 
and analysis, engender distinct ideas. As the mind is 
equal to itself in all men, the primitive judgments which it 
passes are the same in all men ; and consequently, the 
propositions in which language expresses these judgments, 
and the fundamental ideas of which they are composed, 
are at once and universally admitted. One condition is, 
however, necessary, namely, that they should be appre 
hended. When Locke pretends that these propositions : 
" ichatsoever is, is," and " it is impossible for the same 
thing to be and not to be," are propositions which are not 
universally nor primitively admitted, he is both right and 
wrong. Certainly, the first comer, the peasant to whom 
you should say : whatever is, is, and it is impossible for the 
same thing to be and not to be, would not admit these 
propositions ; for he would not comprehend them, because 
you speak a language which is not his own, the language 
of abstraction and of analysis. But that which the peas 
ant does not admit and does not comprehend under its ab 
stract form, he admits immediately and necessarily under 
the concrete and synthetic form. Ask this same man who 
does not comprehend your metaphysical language, ask him 
whether under the different actions or sensations of which 
he is conscious there is not something real and subsistent, 
which is himself; whether he is not himself the same to 
day that he Avas yesterday ; in a word, instead of abstract 
formulas, propose to him particular, determinatjer^and con 
crete questions ; and then human nature will give you an 
answer, because human nature, the human understanding, 
is in the peasant just as really as in Leibnitz. What I have 
just said concerning abstract and general propositions, I say 
concerning the simple ideas which analysis finds in these 
propositions. For example, ask a savage if he has the idea 
of God ; you ask him what he can not reply to, for he does 
not understand it. But if you know ho\v to interrogate 
this poor savage, you will see proceed from his intelligence 



ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 28/5 

a synthetic and confused judgment, which, if you know 
how to read it, contains already every thing which the 
most refined analysis could ever give you; you will see 
that under the confusion of their natural judgments, which 
they neither know how to separate nor to express, the 
savage, the child, the idiot even, if he is not entirely one, 
admit originally and universally all the ideas which subse 
quent analysis develops without producing, or of which it 
produces only the scientific form. 

There are, then, indeed, no innate ideas, nor innate prop 
ositions, because there are no ideas, nor propositions 
really existing, and again, there are no general ideas and 
propositions universally and primitively admitted under the 
form of general ideas and propositions. But it is certain 
that the understanding of all men teems, so to say, with 
natural judgments, which may be called innate in this 
sense, that they are the primitive, universal and neces 
sary development of the human mind, which finally is in 
nate to itself, and equal to itself, in all men.* 

* This is the recognized and now uncontroverted sense of the Car- 
tesUn theory of innate ideas. 

[It seems incredible that Locke should ever have instituted such a 
controversy as that contained in his First Book, or that it should ever 
have gained such celebrity. "The First Book of Locke s Essay," says 
Coleridge (" if the supposed error which it labors to subvert, bo not a 
mere thing of straw, an absurdity which no man ever did or could be 
lieve), is formed on a ao</>jn//a -e/)oC?/r;/fff6;f, and involves the old mis 
take of cum 7<oc, ergopropter hoc. "We learn all things indeed by occasion of 
experience ; but the very facts so learned, force us inward upon anteced 
ents which must bo presupposed in order to render experience itself 
possible." "The position of the Aristotelians: NiMl in intellect^ quod 
non prius insensu, on which Locke s Essay is grounded, is irrefragable; 
Locke erred only in taking half the truth for a whole truth." If the 
dependence of the mind upon experience as the condition of all knowl 
edge were all that Locke meant to maintain by his attempt at refuting 
innate idaas, he would maintain what nobody denies, while he has in 
fact undertaken to refute what nobody ever in reality believed. 

of IdrnK. On tbo question of the origin of ideas, a few state- 



286 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

merits may properly here be made. It needs now but few words to put 
the whole matter in a summary view clearly before the mind. 

The theory of Locke is built upon a gross confusion of distinct things. 
Its comprehending sophism is the mistaking of the conditions of a thiuf 
for its principle. 

All our knowledge begins with experience ; no knowledge precede? 
experience, but it does not therefore follow, as Kant well observes, that 
all our knowledge springs from experience. It may still be the fact, 
that even our empirical knowledge is compounded partly of that which 
we receive through impressions, and partly of that which the understand 
ing produces of itself, barely through occasion of sensible impressions. 
This is the true explanation. The understanding, when called into ex 
ercise by and upon the data of experience, in virtue of certain previous 
laws of its activity, is itself the source of much of our knowlege, knowl 
edge which we could never derive from experience. Now these laws and 
original conceptions of the understanding (known in our modern English 
philosophy as first principles, necessary truths, etc.) are sometimes called 
constituent forms of the understanding, and knowledge a priori. " They 
are called constituent," says Coleridge, " because they are not acquired by 
the understanding, but they are implied in its constitution. As rationally 
might a circle be said to acquire a center and circumference, as the un 
derstanding to acquire these, its inherent forms, or ways of conceiving. 
This is what Leibnitz meant, when to the old adage of the Peripatetics : 
mhil in intellectu, quod non prius in sensu, he replied : prceter intellectum 
ipsum." They are also, we have said, called knowledge d priori. 
" This phrase," as Coleridge remarks, " is in common most grossly mis 
understood. By knowledge d priori, we do not mean that we can know 
any thing previously to experience, which would be a contradiction in 
terms ; but that, having onoe known by occasion of experience (i. e. 
something acting upon us from without), we then know that it must 
have pre-existed, or the experience itself would have been impossible. 
By experience only, I know that I have eyes ; but then my reason con 
vinces me that I must have had eyes, in order to the experience." 

The psychological question in regard to the origin of ideas is simply 
whether the ideas, and all the ideas which in point of fact are in the 
human mind, are there because the objects of those ideas the things, the 
qualities, the matters to which they relate are, or have been themselves ob 
jects of experience, either external or internal, that is in sensation or in 
reflection? To this the answer in one word is: no. But the positive 
solution of the problem gives a threefold origin: 

1. Some of our ideas are in our minds, because, we have by sensation 



ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 287 

experienced the objects of them : as for instance, the ideas of hard and 
soft, hot and cold, sweet and bitter, white and black, etc. These have 
there origin in sensation ; 

2. Some of our ideas are in our minds, because we have by reflection, 
that is, in consciousness, experienced the objects of them : as for instance, 
the ideas of thinking, willing, joy, grief, hope, fear, etc. These have 
their origin in reflection ; 

3. Some of our ideas are in our minds, because, although we never 
have experienced the objects of them, the realities to which they apply, 
yet the faculty of reason, the proper conditions of its activity being sup 
plied, does in its own function necessarily apprehend them : as for in 
stance, the ideas of space, time, infinite, right and wrong, etc. The 
objects of these ideas are not objects of sensation ; they can not be 
touched, nor seen, nor heard, nor tasted, nor smelled ; neither are they 
any more objects of reflection, i. e., we have no inward experience or 
consciousness of the objects of the ideas, but only of the ideas them 
selves. The ideas are in our minds, because, reason in its proper activity 
has apprehended and unfolded them in our consciousness. They are 
rational ideas ; they have their origin in reason. 

Sensation, reflection, reason; such is the threefold origin of ideas 
and of knowledge ; or rather, since sensation and reflection may be gen 
eralized under a single term, experience, we may say the origin of ideas 
and of knowledge is twofold. All our knowledge is either empirical or 
rational ; the latter conditioned by the former, but not originated by 
it TK.J 




CHAPTER VIII. 



OF JUDGMENT. 

Examination of the Fourth Book of the Essay on the Understanding 
continued. Of knowledge. Its modes. Omission of inductive knowl 
edge. Its degrees. False distinction of Locke between knowing and 
judging. That the theory of knowledge and of judgment in Locke 
resolves itself into that of a perception of agreement or disagreement 
between ideas. Detailed examination of this theory. That it ap- 
pues to judgments abstract and not primitive, but by no means to prim 
itive judgments which imply existence. Analysis of the judgment ; 
I exist. Three objections: 1, the impossiblity of arriving at real ex 
istence by the abstraction of Existence ; 2, that to begin by abstrac 
tion is contrary to the true process of the human mind; 3, that the 
theory of Locke involves a paralogism. Analysis of the judgments : 
/ think, this body exists, this body is colored, God exists, etc. Analysis 
of the judgments upon which Arithmetic and Geometry rest. 

WE have stopped some time at the entrance of the 
Fourth Book of the Essay on the Understanding : let us 
now pass within. 

The Fourth Book of the Essay on the Human Under 
standing treats of knowledge in general ; of its different 
modes ; of its different degrees ; of its extent and limits j 
with some applications. It is, therefore, properly speaking, 
Logic with something of Ontology. The principle of this 
logic rests upon the theory we have examined, that of the 
representative idea. We have seen that, with Locke, the 
condition of all legitimate knowledge is the conformity of 
th:j idea t> the object; and we have every way proved 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 289 

that this confoi raity is nothing but a chimera. We have 
therefore already overthrown the general theory of knowl 
edge, but we have overthrown it only in its principle by 
raising a provisional question, by taking an exception 
against it. It is necessary now to examine it in itself, in 
dependently of the principle of the representative idea, 
and to follow it in its appropriate development and conse 
quences. 

Whether the idea is representative or not, it is a settled 
point in the system of Locke that the understanding does 
not commence by things, but by ideas ; that ideas are the 
sole objects of the understanding, and consequently the 
sole foundations of knowledge. Now if all knowledge ne 
cessarily depends upon ideas, then where there is no idea 
there can be no knowledge ; and wherever there is knowl 
edge, there has necessarily been an idea. But the converse 
is not true, there is not necessarily knowledge, wherever 
there is an idea. For instance, in order that you may be 
able to have a well-grounded knowledge of God, it is ne 
cessary that you should first have some idea of God ; but 
from your having some idea of God, it does not follow that 
you have a true or sufficient knowledge of him. Thus 
knowledge is limited by ideas ; but it does not necessarily 
go as far as ideas go. 

B. IV. Ch. III. 1. " We can have knowledge no fur 
ther than we have ideas." Ibid. 6. " Our knowledge is 
narrower than our ideas." If knowledge never surpasses 
the ideas and sometimes falls short of them, and if all 
knowledge depends only upon ideas, it is clear that knowl 
edge can never be any thing but the relation of one idea 
to another ; and that the process of the human mind in 
knowledge is nothing else than the perception of a relation 
of some sort between ideas. 

B. IV. Ch. I. 1. " Since the mind in all its thoughts 
and reasonings, hath no other immediate object but its oivn 
ideas, which it alone does or can contemplate, it is evident 

13 



290 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

that our knowledge is only conversant about them." 2, 
" Knowledge then seems to me to be nothing but the per* 
ception of the connection and agreement or disagreement 
and repugnancy of any of our ideas. In this alone it con 
sists. Where this perception is, there is knowledge ; and 
where it is not, there though we may fancy, guess, or be 
ll eve, yet we always come short of knowledge. 

Thence follow the different modes and degrees of knowl 
edge in the system of Locke. We know only when we 
perceive a relation of agreement or disagreement between 
two ideas. Now we may perceive this relation in two 
ways : either we perceive it. immediately, and then the 
knowledge is intuitive ; or we are not able to perceive it 
immediately, and must have recourse to another ide,i, or 
to several other ideas, which we put between the two ideas 
whose relation can not be directly perceived, so that there 
by we may apprehend the relation which escapes us. 
Knowledge is then called demonstrative. (B. IV. Ch. II. 
1, 2.) Locke here makes an excellent remark which 
ought not to be omitted, and for which it is just to give 
him the credit. No doubt we are often compelled to re 
sort to demonstration, to the interposition of one or more 
ideas, in order to perceive the latent relation of two ideas ; 
but this new idea which we interpose in some way between 
the two others, it is necessary that we should perceive its 
relation to each of the others. Now if the perception of 
this relation between that idea and the two others, is not 
intuitive, if it is demonstrative, it would be necessary to 
have recourse to the intermediation of a new idea. But if 
between this idea and the anterior ideas the perception of 
relation were not intuitive, but demonstrative, it would be 
necessary to have recouse again to a new idea, and so on 
ad infinitum. The perception of the relation between the 
middle term and the extremes must therefore be intuitive ; 
and it must be so in all the steps of the deduction j so that 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 291 



demonstrative evidence is grounded npnn intnit.iv^ and al 
ways presupposes it. 

B. IV. Ch. II. 7. "Each step must have intuitive 
evidence." " Now in every step reason makes in demon 
strative knowledge, there is an intuitive knowledge of that 
agreement or disagreement it seeks with the next inter 
mediate idea, which it uses as a proof; for if it were not so, 
that yet would need a proof; since without the perception 
of such agreement or disagreement, there is no knowledge 
produced. If it be perceived by itself, it is intuitive 
knowledge ; if it can not be perceived by itself, there is 
need of some intervening idea, as a common measure to 
show their agreement or disagreement. By which it is 
plain that every step in reasoning that produces knowledge, 
has intuitive certainty ; which when the mind percewes, 
there is no more required but to remember it, to make the 
agreement or disagreement of the ideas, concerning which 
we inquire, visible and certain. So that to make any 
thing a demonstration, it is necessary to perceive the im 
mediate agreement of the intervening ideas, whereby the 
agreement or disagreement of the two ideas under exami 
nation (whereof the one is always the first, and the other 
the last in the account), is found. This intuitive percep 
tion of the agreement or disagreement of the intermediate 
ideas, in each step and progression of the demonstration, 
must also be carried exactly in the mind, and a man must 
be sure that no part is left out." 

Thus intuition and demonstration are the different modes 
of knowledge according to Locke. But are there no 
others? Have we not knowledge which we acquired 
neither by intuition nor demonstration ? How do we ac 
quire a knowledge of the laws of external nature ? Take 
which you please, gravitation for instance. Certainly there 
is no simple intuition and immediate evidence here ; for 
experiments multiplied and combined, are necessary tc 
give the slightest law; and even these will not suffice, since 



292 ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 

the slightest law surpasses the number, whatever it be, of 
these experiments from which it is drawn. There is there 
fore need of an intervention of some other operation of 
the mind besides intuition. Is it demonstration? Im 
possible. What in fact is demonstration ? It is the per 
ception of a relation between two ideas by means of a 
third, but it is upon this condition that the latter should 
be more general than the two others, in order to embrace 
and connect them. To demonstrate is, in the last analysis, 
to deduce the particular from the general. ~Now what is 
the more general physical law from which gravitation can 
be deduced ? We have not deduced the knowledge of 
gravitation from any other knowledge anterior to it, and 
which involves it in the germ. How, then, have we ac 
quired this knowledge, which we certainly have ; and in 
general, how have we acquired the knowledge of physical 
laws ? A phenomenon having been presented a number 
of times, with a particular character and in particular 
circumstances, we have judged that if this same phenom 
ena should appear again in similar circumstances, it would 
have the same character ; that is to say, we have general 
ized the particular character of this phenomenon : instead 
of descending from the general to the particular, we have 
ascended from the particular to the general. This general 
character is what we call a law; this law we have not 
deduced from a more general law or character ; we have 
derived it from particular experiments in order to transfer 
it beyond them. There is here neither simple intuition nor 
demonstration: it is what we call in^ucti^^. It is to 
induction that we owe all our conquests over nature, all 
our discoveries of the laws of the world. For a long time 
natural philosophers contented themselves either with im 
mediate observations which furnished no great result, 
or with speculations which resulted in nothing but hy 
potheses. Induction for a long time was only a natural 
process of the human mind, of which - ^ make use foi 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 293 

acquiring the knowledge they need in respect to the ex. 
ternal world, without explaining it, and without its passing 
from practice into science. It is to Bacon, chiefly, we owe, 
not the invention, but the discovery and largest propaga 
tion of this process. It is strange that Locke, a country 
man of Bacon, and who belongs to his school, should in 
his classification of the modes of knowledge, have permitted 
precisely that one to escape him to which the school of 
Bacon has given the greatest celebrity, and placed in the 
clearest light. It is strange that the whole Sensual School, 
which pretends to be the legitimate offspring of Bacon, 
should, after the example of Locke, have almost forgotten 
the evidence of induction among the different species of 
evidence, and that contrary to what an experimental 
school should have done, it has neglected induction to bury 
itself in demonstration. This is the reason of the singular 
but undeniable phenomenon, that in the eighteenth cen 
tury, the logic of the Sensual school was scarcely any 
thing but a reflection of the peripatetic scholasticism of 
the middle age, of that scholasticism which admitted no othei 
processes in knowledge than intuition and demonstration. 

Let us now see what, according to Locke, are the dif 
ferent degrees of knowledge. 

Sometimes we know with certainty, without the least 
blending of doubt with our knowledge. Sometimes also, 
instead of absolute knowledge, we have only probable 
knowledge. Probability also has its degrees, and its par 
ticular grounds. Locke treats them at large. I advise 
you to read with care the chapters, not indeed very pro 
found, but sufficiently exact, in which he discusses the dif 
ferent degrees of knowledge. I can not go into all these 
details, but will content myself with pointing out to you 
the fourteenth, fifteenth and sixteenth chapters of the 
Fourth Book. I x shall particularly notice only one dis 
tinction to which Locke attaches great importance, and 
which, in my opinion is without foundation. 



294 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

We either know in a certain and absolute manner, or 
we know merely in a manner more or less probable. Locke 
chooses to employ the term knowledge exclusively to sig r 
nify absolute knowledge, that which is raised above all 
probability. The knowledge which is wanting in certainty 
simple conjecture, or presumption more or less prob 
ablehe calls judgment. B. IV. Ch. XIY. 4 : " The 
mind has two faculties, conversant about truth and false 
hood. First, knowledge, whereby it certainly perceives 
and is undoubtedly satisfied of the agreement, or disagree 
ment of any ideas. Secondly, judgment, which is the 
putting ideas together, or separating them from one 
another in the mind, when their certain agreement or dis 
agreement is not perceived, but presumed to^be so ; which 
is as the word imports, laken to be so, before it certainly 
appears." 

But the general usage of all languages is contrary to so 
limited a sense of the word knowledge ; a certain knowl 
edge, or a probable or even a conjectural knowledge is 
always spoken of as knowledge in its different degrees. 
It is so in regard to judgment. As languages have not 
confined the term knowledge to absolute knowledge, so 
they have not limited the term judgment to knowledge 
merely probable. In some cases we pass certain and de 
cisive judgments ; in others we pass judgments which are 
only probable, or even purely conjectural. In a word, 
judgments are infallible, or doubtful in various degrees; 
but doubtful or infallible, they are always judgments, and 
this distinction between knowledge as being exclusively 
infallible, and judgment asf being exclusively probable, 
doubtful or conjectural, is a verbal distinction altogether 
arbitrary and barren. Time accordingly has done justice 
to it ; but it seems to have spared the theory on which 
the distinction is founded, the theory which makes both 
knowledge and judgment consist in the perception of a 
relation of agreement or disagreement between two ideas. 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 295 

All verbal distinction laid aside, to judge or to know, to 
know or to judge, is with Locke nothing but to perceive, 
intuitively or demonstratively, a relation of agreement or 
disagreement, certain or probable, between two ideas. This 
is the theory of knowledge and of judgment according to 
Locke, reduced to its simplest expression. From Locke it 
passed into the Sensual school, where it enjoys undisputed 
authority, and forms the acknowledged theory of judg 
ment. It requires, then, and it deserves a scrupulous ex 
animation. 

In the first place, let us note the extent of this theory 
It pretends not merely that there are judgments which are 
nothing else than perceptions of the relation of agreement 
or disagreement of ideas; but it pretends that every judg 
ment is subject to this condition. This is the point to be 
verified. 

Let us take any knowledge, any judgment. I propose 
the following judgment : two and three make five. This is 
not a chimera ; it is a knowledge, a judgment ; and it is 
certain. How do we acquire this knowledge, what are the 
conditions of this judgment ? 

The theory of Locke supposes three: 1, that there are 
two ideas present to the understanding, known anterior to 
the perception of relation ; 2, that there is a comparison 
made between these two ideas ; 3, that at the end of this 
comparison there is a perception of some relation between 
the two ideas. Two ideas, a comparison of them, a per 
ception of a relation derived from the comparison : such 
are the conditions of the theory of Locke. 

Let us go on : two and three make five. What are the 
two ideas ? Two and three, and five. Suppose I had not 
these two ideas, these two terms, on the one hand, two and 
three, and on the other, five. Could I ever perceivo f^-i, 
there was a relation between them of equality or inequality, 
identity or diversity ? No. And having these two terms, 
if I did not compare them, should I ever perceive their re- 



?96 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

lation ? Certainly not. And if in comparing them, their 
relation, spite of all my exertions, should escape my under 
standing, should I ever arrive at the result, that two and 
three make five ? By no means. On the contrary, suppose 
these three conditions to be supplied, is the result infallibly 
obtained ? I see nothing wanting to it. Thus far, then, 
the theory of Locke seems to work well. Shall I take 
another arithmetical example ? But arithmetical examples 
have this peculiarity, that they are all alike. What in fact 
are arithmetical truths but relations of numbers ? They 
are nothing else. Arithmetical knowledge then falls under 
the theory of Locke concerning knowledge ; and an arith 
metical judgment, if the expression may be used, is nothing 
else than the perception of a relation of numbers. Thus 
far, then, the theory of Locke is perfectly sound. 

Shall we take geometry ? But if geometrical truths are 
nothing but relations of magnitude, it is clear that no 
geometrical truth can be obtained, except under the con 
dition of having previously two ideas of magnitude, then 
of comparing them, and then of deducing a relation of 
agreement or disagreement. And as all mathematics, as 
Newton has said, is only a universal arithmetic, it seems 
true that mathematical judgment in general is nothing but 
a perception of relations. 

Let us take other examples a little at random. I wish to 
know if Alexander is a truly great man: it is a question 
frequently agitated. It is evident that unless I have on 
the one hand the idea of Alexander, and on the other an 
idea of a truly great man, and unless I compare these two 
ideas, and perceive between them a relation of agreement 
or disagreement, I can not decide whether Alexander is a 
great man or not. Here again we must necessarily have 
two ideas, a particular idea, that of Alexander, and a 
general idea, that of a great man, and we compare these 
two ideas to know if they agree or disagree with each 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 297 

other, if the predicate can be affirmed of the subject, if the 
subject falls under the predicate, etc. 

I wish to know if God is good. At first it is necessary 
that I should have the idea of the existence of God, of God 
so far forth as existing ; then it is necessary that I should 
have the idea of goodness, an idea more or less extensive, 
more or less complete of it, so as to be able after a com 
parison of the one with the other, to affirm that these two 
ideas have a relation of agreement. 

Such are, indeed, the conditions of knowledge, of judg 
ment hi these different cases. But let us explain the nature 
of these different cases. Let us examine the mathematical 
truths which lend themselves so readily to the theory of 
Locke. Arithmetical truths, for example, do they exist in 
nature? No. And why not? Because these relations which 
are called arithmetical truths, have for their terms not con 
crete quantities, that is to say, real quantities, but discrete, 
that is, abstract quantities. One, two, three, four, five all 
this has no existence in nature ; consequently, -the relations 
between abstract and not real quantities no more have a real 
existence than their terms : arithmetical truths are pure ab 
stractions. And moreover the human mind operates at first 
upon concrete quantities, and it is only subsequently that it 
rises from the concrete to the conception of those general 
relations which onstitute arithmetical truths properly so 
called. They have then, two characteristics: 1, they are 
abstract ; 2, they are not primitive ; they suppose previous 
concrete judgments, in the bosom of which they reside 
until deduced by abstraction and raised to the height of 
universal truths. The same may be said of the truths of 
geometry. The magnitudes with which geometry has to 
do, are not concrete magnitudes ; they are abstract, hav 
ing no existence in nature. For there are in nature only 
imperfect figures, and the operations of geometry are con 
ditioned by perfect figures, the perfect triangle, the perfect 
circle, etc., that is to say, by figures which have no real 

13* 



298 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

existence, but are pure conceptions of the mind. The re- 
lations of abstractions can then be nothing but abstractions. 
Still further, the human mind no more begins by conceiv 
ing perfect figures, than it begins by conceiving the ab 
stract relations of numbers. It first conceives the con 
crete, the imperfect triangle, the imperfect circle, from 
which it subsequently deduces by abstraction, rapid indeed, 
the perfect triangle, and circle of geometry. The truths of 
geometry are not then primitive truths in the human under 
standing. The other examples which we have taken, namely, 
that Alexander is a great man, and that God is good, have 
the same character of being problems instituted by later 
reflection and intelligent curiosity. In a word, hitherto 
we have verified the theory of Locke only in respect to 
abstract judgments and those which are not primitive. 
Let us take judgments marked with other characteristics. 

Look at another knowledge, another judgment, which I 
propose for your examination, namely, the judgment : I ex 
ist. You n6 more doubt the certainty of this knowledge 
than of the first knowledge I referred to : two and three 
make five. You would sooner doubt the first than the 
second. Well, then, let us submit this certain knowledge, 
this certain judgment : I exist, to the conditions of Locke s 
general theory concerning knowledge and judgment. 

I remind you of the conditions of this theory : 1, two 
ideas ; 2, a comparison of the two ideas ; 3, perception of 
some relation of agreement or disagreement. 

Now, what are the two ideas which should be the two 
terms of this relation and the basis of the comparison ? It 
is the idea of I, or me, and the idea of existence, between 
which it is the object to find the relation of agreement or 
disagreement. 

Let us take good heed what we do. It is not the idea 
of our existence that is to be one of the two ideas which 
are to be objects of comparison. For what are we seeking 
after ? Our own existence. If we have it, we should not 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 299 

seek after it. We must not take the thing in question, our 
own existence, for granted. The idea of existence which 
is to be here one of the terms of comparison, is therefore 
the idea of existence in general, and not the particular idea 
of our own existence. Such is the rigorous condition of 
the problem. And what is the other idea, the second term 
of the comparison? It is the idea of the me. But what 
are we seeking after ? The me as existing. We are not, 
then, to take it for granted ; for that would be to take for 
granted the thing in question. It is not, then, the existing 
me which should be the second term of the comparison ; 
but a me, a self, which must necessarily be conceived as dis 
tinct from the idea with which it is intended to compare it, 
in order to know if it agrees or not, namely, the idea of 
existence. It is a self, then, a me, which must be con 
ceived as not possessing existence, that is to say, an abstract 
me, a general me. 

The idea of an abstract me, and the idea of existence 
these are the two ideas of which a comparison is to be 
made, which ought to bring out the judgment in question ! 
Reflect, I pray you; what are you in search of? Your 
own personal existence. Do not, then, take it for granted, 
since it is what you are seeking to find. Do not put 
it into either of the two terms, from the comparison of 
which you are to get it. Since it should be only the pro 
duct of the relation of these two terms, it should not be 
taken for granted in either of them, for then the com 
parison would be useless, and the truth would then be an 
terior to the perception of their relation, and not [as the 
theory demands] the result of it. Such are the imperious 
conditions of the theory of Locke : two abstract ideas, the 
abstract idea of the me, and abstract idea of existence. We 
nro now to compare these two ideas, to see if they agree 
or disagree with each other, to perceive the relation of 
agreement or disagreement which binds or separates them. 
I might first remark, in passing, upon this expression of 



SOO ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

agreement or disagreement, arid show how much it is 
wanting in precision and distinctness ; but I will not do so. 
I take the words as Locke gives them. I let his theory 
unfold itself freely ; I shall not repress it ; I merely wish 
to see where it will arrive. It starts from two abstract 
terms ; it compares them, and seeks a relation of agree* 
ment or disagreement between them, between the idea of 
existence and the idea of the me. It compares them, then; 
so be it. And what is the result ? a relation, a relation of 
agreement. So be it again. I wish to make here but one re 
mark, it is, that this relation, whatever it be, must necessa 
rily be of the same nature as the two terms, which are its 
foundation. The two terms are abstract ; the relation must 
therefore necessarily be abstract. What then will be the 
result of the perception of the relation, which I am very 
willing to suppose one of agreement between the gen 
eral and abstract idea of existence, and the general and 
abstract idea of the me ? A truth of relation of the same 
nature as the two terms on which it is founded, namely, 
an abstract knowledge, a logical knowledge of the non-con 
tradiction found between the idea of existence and the 
idea of the me, that is to say, the knowledge of the pure 
possibility of the existence of a me, a self. But when you 
believe that you exist, do you, I ask, merely pass the judg 
ment that there is no contradiction between the general 
idea of the me, and that of existence ? Not at all. The 
question is not about a possible you, a possible me, but a 
real me, that quite determinate me which nobody confounds 
with a logical abstraction. The question is not about ex 
istence in general, but about your own, your own altogether 
personal and individual existence. On the contrary, the 
result of the judgment derived from the perception of a 
relation of agreement between the general and abstract 
idea of existence and the general and abstract idea of the 
me does not imply real existence. It gives, if you please, 
possible existence, but it gives nothing more. 



ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 301 

This is the first vice of Locke s theory. Look now at 
another. 

The judgment : I exist, is eminently a primitive judg 
ment. It is the starting-point of knowledge. Obviously 
you can know nothing before yourselves. Now in the 
theory of Locke, the two ideas upon Which the judgment 
acts, and between which is to be discerned the relation of 
agreement, are necessarily two abstract ideas. The radical 
supposition then of the theory of Locke is that the human 
mind, in regard to knowledge, begins by abstraction, a 
supposition gratuitous and falsified by facts. In fact we 
set out with the concrete and not with the abstract, and 
even if it were possible (which I deny, and which I have 
demonstrated to be impossible), to derive reality from 
abstraction, it would remain not less true that the process 
which Locke imputes to the human mind, even if it were 
legitimate, is not that which the mind employs. 

The theory of Locke can give only an abstract judgment 
and not a judgment which reaches to real existence ; and 
his theory, moreover, is not the true process of the human 
mind, since the process it employs is altogether abstract, 
and by no means primitive ; further, this theory involves 
a paralogism. 

In fact Locke proposes to arrive at the knowledge of 
real and personal existence by the comparison of the idea 
of existence and the idea of self, by bringing them to 
gether in order to discern their relation. But in general, 
and to dispatch the question at a single stroke, the abstract 
being given us only in the concrete, to derive the concrete 
from the abstract is to take as a principle what could have 
been had only as a consequence ; it is to ask what we are 
in search of, from precisely that which we could never 
have known but by means of that which we are in search 
of. And in regard to this particular case, under what 
condition have you the general and abstract idea of exist 
ence, and the general and abstract idea of self, which you 



302 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

compare in order to derive from them the knowledge of 
your own existence ? Under this condition ; that you have 
already had the idea of your own existence. It is impos 
sible that you should have ascended to the generalization 
of existence without having passed from the knowledge of 
some particular existence ; and as neither the knowledge 
of the existence of God, nor that of the existence of the 
external world precedes or can precede that of your own, 
it follows that the knowledge of your own existence can 
not but have been one of the bases of the abstract and 
general idea of existence ; consequently to derive the 
knowledge of your own existence from the general idea of 
existence, is to fall into an evident paralogism. If Locke 
had not known that he existed, if he had not already ac 
quired the knowledge of his own me real and existent, he 
could never have had the general and abstract idea either 
of a me, nor of existence, those very ideas from which he 
seeks to obtain the knowledge of his personal me and 
existence.* 

* [The reader will recollect the criticism of Eeid upon Descartes s 
celebrated cogito, ergo sum ; and also Stewart s vindication of it against 
Keid. Cousin has the following remarks upon this topic : 

"Before Spinoza and Reid, G-assendi had attacked the enthymeme of 
Descartes. The proposition, / think, therefore I am, supposes, says 
Gassendi, this major: that which thinks, exists; and consequently in 
volves a begging of the question. To this Descartes replies : I do not 
beg the question, for I do not suppose any major. I maintain that the 
proposition : I think, therefore I exist, is a particular truth which is in 
troduced into the mind without recourse to any more general truth, and 
independently of any logical deduction. It is not a prejudice, but a 
natural judgment which at once and irresistibly strikes the intelligence. 
The motion of existence, says he, in his reply to other objections, is a 
primitive notion, not obtained by any syllogism, but evident in itself; 
and the mind* discovers it by ; ntuition. Reasoning does not logically 
deduce existence from thought, but the mind can not think without 
knowing itself, because being is given in and under thought : cogito, 
ergo sum. The certainty of thinking does not go before the certainty of 
existence ; it contains and envelops it ; they are two cotemporaneoua 






ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

Thus we have three radical objections against the theory 
of Locke : 

1. It starts from abstractions; consequently, it gives 
only an abstract result, and not the one you are seek 
ing. 

2. It starts from abstractions, and, consequently, it does 
not start from the true starting-point of the human intelli 
gence. 

3. It starts from abstractions, which it could never have 
obtained but by the help of the self-same, concrete knowl 
edge that it pretends to derive from the abstractions which 
suppose it ; consequently, it takes for granted the thing in 
question. 

The theory of Locke breaks down under these three ob 
jections ; and the judgment, I exist, escapes in every way 
from the theory of Locke. 

This judgment has two characteristics : 

1. It is not abstract: it implies existence: 

2. It is a primitive judgment : all others involve the sup 
position of it, while it supposes no others. 

It was in regard to abstract judgments, judgments slow 
ly formed in the human mind, that the theory of Locke 
was before seen to hold true. But here the judgment im 
plies existence, and is primitive ; and the theory can no 
longer be verified. We must therefore choose between 
the theory and the certainty of personal knowledge. 

So much for personal existence. It is the same in 
regard to all the modes of this existence, to our faculties, 
our operations, whether sensation, or will, or thought 

Take whatever phenomenon you please : I feel; I will; 
I think. Take for instance: I think. This is commonly 
called a fact of consciousness ; but consciousness is still to 
know (conscire sibi), it is to know, since it is^o know one s 

verities blended in one fundamental verity. This fundamental complex 
verity is the sole principle of the Cartesian philosophy." Fragmen-i 
. 3 1 4-:5 2 1 . Tu. J 



304 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

self; it is to believe, to affirm, to judge. When you say, 
I think, it is a judgment which you exercise and express : 
when you are conscious of thinking, and do not say so, it 
is still a judgment which you exercise without expressing 
it. Now this judgment, whether expressed or riot, im 
plies existence ; it implies that you, a real being, actually 
exercise the real operation of thinking. Moreover, it is a 
primitive judgment, at least cotemporaneous with the 
judgment that you exist. 

Let us test the theory of Locke in regard to this judg 
ment, as we have tested it in regard to that other primitive 
and concrete judgment : I exist. 

Three conditions are necessary by the theory of Locke, 
in order to explain and legitimate the judgment : I think ; 
namely, two ideas, their comparison, a perception of rela 
tion between them. What in this case are the two ideas ? 
Obviously the idea of thinking on the one hand, and of I 
or myself, on the other. But if it is the idea of thinking 
distinct from myself, if it is thinking considered apart from 
the subject, the me, from that subject me which is, you 
will not forget, the primary basis of all existence ; it is 
thinking abstracted from all existence, it is abstract thought, 
that is to say, the simple power of thinking, and nothing 
else. On the other hand, the me, which is the other ne 
cessary term of the comparison, can not be a me which 
thinks, for you have just separated it from thought ; it is, 
therefore, a me, which you are to consider abstracted from 
thinking. For if, in fact, you suppose it thinking, you 
would have what you are in search of, and there would be 
no need of your making a laborious comparison ; you might 
stop at one of the terms, which would give you the other, 
the me as thinking, or I think. But to avoid paralogism, 
you must suppose it as not thinking; and as your first 
legitimate term is thought separated from the me, your 
second legitimate term must be me separated from thought, 
a me not thinking. And you wish to know if this me, taken 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 305 

independently of thinking, and this thinking taken inde 
pendently of the me, have a relation to each other of agree 
ment or disagreement. Such is the question. It is then 
two abstractions you are going to compare. But once 
again, two abstract terms can engender only an abstract 
relation, and an abstract relation can engender only MI ab 
stract judgment, namely, the abstract judgment that 
thinking and the me are two ideas which imply no contra 
diction. Thus the theory of Locke applied to this judg 
ment : I think, as to the other judgment : I exist, gives 
nothing but an abstract result [the possibility of the truth : 
I think, but not its actual truth, its reality], an abstract 
truth which in no respect represents what passes in your 
mind when you judge that you think, and when you say, 
I think. 

Then, too, the theory of Locke makes the human mind 
begin by abstraction : but it does not thus begin. 

Finally, it makes the mind begin by abstraction, and 
seeks to derive the concrete from the abstract, while in 
point of fact you could never have had the abstract if you 
had not previously had the concrete. You passed first, and 
naturally, this determinate, concrete, and synthetic judg 
ment : I think ; and then afterward as you began to exer 
cise the faculty of abstraction, you made a division in the 
primitive synthesis ; you considered separately, on the one 
hand, the thinking, that is to say, thought without the sub 
ject, without the me, the self, that is, possible thinking 
and then, on the other hand, the me, I, without the real 
attributes of thinking, that is to say, the simple possibility 
of being ; and now you are pleased artificially and too late, 
to reunite, by a pretended relation of agreement, two terms 
which originally you did not have given you separate and 
disjoined, but united and confused in the synthesis of real* 
ity and of life. 

Thus the three preceding objections return here with the 
same force; and the theory of Locke can legitimately 



S06 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

give you neither the knowledge of your own existence, 
nor the knowledge of any of your faculties, or operations; for 
what I have said concerning the judgment : I think, may 
be said likewise of the judgment : I will, I feel, and 
of all the attributes and all the modes of personal ex 
istence. 

Nor is it any more possible for the theory of Locke to 
give external existence. Take for instance the judgment : 
this body exists. The theory decides that you can not 
have this knowledge but upon the condition of having 
perceived a relation of agreement between two ideas com 
pared with each other. What are these two ideas? Cer 
tainly not the idea of a body really existing; for you would 
then have what you are seeking ; nor is it any more the 
idea of actual existence. It is then the idea of a possible 
body, and the idea of a possible existence, or two abstrac 
tions. But you can deduce from them only this other 
abstraction : there is no logical incompatibility between 
the idea of existence and the idea of body. Then you 
commence by abstraction, which is contrary to the natural 
order. Finally, you begin by an abstraction which you 
would never have had, if you had not previously ob 
tained the concrete knowledge, the very knowledge which 
you wish to derive from the comparison of your abstrac 
tions. 

What has been said concerning the existence of body, 
holds equally good concerning the attributes by which 
body is known to us, solidity, form, color, etc. Take for 
example, the quality of color, commonly classed among the 
secondary qualities, but which is perhaps more inherent in 
body than is commonly believed. Be this, however, as it 
may, whether color be a simple secondary quality or a 
primary quality of matter, let us see on what conditions, 
by the theory of Locke, we acquire the knowledge of it. 
In order to pass this judgment : this body is colored, white, 
or black, etc., is it true that we must have two ideas, com 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 30? 

pare them, and perceive their relation? The two ideas 
should be that of body and that of color. But the idea of 
body must not here be the idea of a colored body, for then 
the single term would imply the other, would render the 
comparison useless, and would take for granted the thing 
in question. It must then be the idea of a body as .not 
being colored. The idea of color also must not be the 
idea of a color really existing ; for a color is not real, does 
not exist, except in a body, and the very condition of the 
operation which we wish to make, is the separation of color 
from body. The question here, then, is not concerning a 
real color, having such or such a determinate shade, but 
of color abstracted from all that determines it, all that 
makes it special and real. The question is only concerning 
the abstract and general idea of color. From whence it 
results that the two ideas you have, are general and ab 
stract ideas ; and from abstractions you can derive only 
abstractions. And again, you commence by abstraction ; 
you go contrary to the true natural process. Finally, 
which is the most crushing objection, it is obvious that you 
could never have gained the general idea of color except 
in the idea of some particular and positive color, which you 
could not have gained except in that of a body figured and 
colored. It is not by the help of the general idea of color, 
and the general idea of body, that you learn that bodies 
are colored ; but on the contrary, it is because you have 
previously known that such a body was colored, that after 
ward separating what was united in the primitive syn 
thesis, you were able to consider on the one hand, the idea 
of body, and on the other the idea of color, abstracting one 
from the other ; and it is then only that you could have 
instituted a comparison in order to explain to yourselves 
what you already knew. 

In general, judgments are of two sorts : either those in 
which we acquire what we were before ignorant of, or 
those reflex judgments in which we only explain to our- 



308 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

selves what we already knew. The theory of Locke can 
to a certain extent, explain the second, but the first entirely 
escape it. 

For instance, if we wish now to give account to ourselves 
of the existence of God, whom we already know, we take 
or we can take, on the one hand, the idea o/ God, and on 
the other, the idea of existence, and inquire if these two 
ideas agree or disagree. But to give account of the knowl 
edge we have already acquired, is one thing ; to acquire 
that knowledge, is another thing. Now certainly we did 
not at first acquire the idea of the existence of God, by 
placing the idea of God on one side and the idea of exist 
ence on the other, and then seeking their relation; for (to 
spare you superfluous repetitions, and not go over the 
whole circle of the three foregoing objections, but to fasten 
only upon the last of them) that would be to take for 
granted the thing in question. It is very evident that 
when we consider on the one hand the idea of God, and 
on the other the idea of existence, and when we seek the 
knowledge of the existence of God by comparing the two 
ideas, we do nothing but turn over and over what we 
already had, and what too we never could have had, if we 
had been reduced to gain it by the theory of Locke. It is 
perfectly easy to see that it is the same in regard to the 
attributes of God as in regard to his existence. Every 
where, then, and continually, we encounter the same ob 
jections, the same paralogism. 

The theory of Locke then can give neither God, nor 
body, nor self, nor their attributes : it gives every thing 
else except these, I allow, if any body wishes the concession. 

It gives mathematics, you say. True, I have myself said 
so, and I repeat it ; it gives mathematics, geometry, and 
arithmetic, in so far as they are sciences of the relations of 
magnitude and numbers. It gives them, however, on one 
condition: that you are to consider these numbers and 
these magnitudes, as abstract, not implying existence. 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 309 

Now without doubt the science of geometry is an abstract 
science; but it has its bases in concrete ideas, and real 
existences. One of these bases is the idea of space, which, 
as you know,* is given in this judgment : every body is in 
a space. This is the proposition, the judgment, which 
gives us space, a judgment accompanied with perfect cer 
tainty of the reality of its object. We have but one single 
idea as the starting-point, namely, the idea of body ; then 
the mind by its own power, as soon as the idea of body is 
given it, conceives the idea of space and its necessary con 
nection with body. A body being known, we can not but 
judge that is in a space which contains it. From this judg 
ment abstract the idea of space, and you have the abstract 
idea of space. But this idea was not anterior to the con 
ception of the necessary relation of space to body, any 
more than the relation was anterior to it ; nor was it pos 
terior to the relation, nor the relation posterior to it ; they 
both reciprocally imply each other, and are given us in the 
same judgment as soon as body is known. To lay down 
first the idea of space, and the idea of body, and then to 
seek by comparing them to deduce the relation which con 
nects them, is to overthrow the order of intellectual devel 
opment ; for the idea of space alone, supposes already this 
judgment, that every body is necessarily in space. The 
judgment therefore can not come from the idea ; on the 
contrary, the idea comes from the judgment. It is not 
difficult to deduce the idea from the judgment which sup 
poses it, but it would require to be explained from whence 
comes the idea anterior to the judgment. There is no diffi 
culty in finding a relation between body and space, when 
we know body and space ; but we should have to ask Locke 
how he obtained that idea of space, just as we have a little 
back asked him how he obtained the idea of body, of God, 
of color, of existence, etc. To suppose that the necessary 
idea is given us by the comparison of two ideas, one of 

* Sco Chapter 1L 



310 ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 

which is already the idea of space, is a vicious circle, and a 
ridiculous paralogism. This is the rock on which the theory 
of Locke perpetually breaks. 

The other idea upon which geometry rests is the idea of 
magnitude, which contains the idea of point, the idea of 
line, etc. Magnitude, point, line, are ulterior and abstract 
conceptions, which suppose the idea of some real body, of 
a solid existing in nature. Now the idea of solidity, like 
every idea, is given us in a judgment: and it is necessary 
that we should judge that such a solid exists in order to 
conceive the idea of solidity by itself. How, then, do we 
judge that such a solid exists ? According to the theory 
of Locke, there must be two ideas, a comparison of those 
two ideas, and a perception of their agreement. And what 
are the two ideas which are to serve as the terms of the 
judgment : this solid exists f I acknowledge I do not see. 
Compelled by the hypothesis to find them, I can discover 
no others than the idea of solidity and that of existence, 
which we are to compare in order to see if they agree or 
disagree. The theory requires all this scaffolding. But is 
there any need of destroying it piece by piece, in order to 
overthrow it ? Is it not enough to recollect that the solid 
in question, being deprived of existence, since it is separated 
from the idea of existence, is nothing but the abstraction 
of solidity, and that this abstraction, to which it is the ob 
ject to give reality, in order to deduce the existence of the 
solid, could never have been formed without the previous 
conception of a solid really existing? The abstraction, 
line, point, etc., supposes such or such a real solid, a primi 
tive and concrete knowledge which can never be made 
to come from ulterior abstractions without falling into a 
vicious circle, and taking away from all geometrical con 
ceptions their natural basis. 

Thus, then, the two fundamental ideas of geometry, the 
idea of space, and the idea of solidity, elude Locke s theory 
of knowledge and judgment. 






ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 311 

The same is true in regard to the fundamental idea of 
arithmetic. This idea is evidently that of amity, not a col 
lective unity, for example : four representing two and two, 
five representing two and three, but a unity which is found 
in all collective unities, measures them and values them. 
This unity arithmetic conceives in an abstract manner ; but 
abstraction not being the starting-point of the human mind, 
the abstract unity must have been given to us at first in 
some concrete unity, really existing. What is then this 
concrete, really existing unity, the source of the abstract 
idea of unity ? It is not body ; that is indefinitely divisible. 
It is the me, the me identical and consequently one under 
all the variety of its acts, its thoughts, its sensations. And 
now, by the theory of Locke, could the knowledge of the 
unity of the me be acquired ? It is necessary that we 
should have had, on the one hand, the idea of the me, not 
as being one, that is, without reality (the identity and unity 
of the me being implied in its existence from the very first 
moment of memory), and on the other hand, the idea of a 
unity distinct from the me, without subject, and conse 
quently without reality ; and then comparing these, that 
we should have perceived their relation of agreement. 
Now here all my objections come up again, and in con 
cluding I beg permission to recapitulate them. 

1. It is abstract unity and an abstract me, from which 
you start ; but the abstract unity and the abstract me, 
brought together and compared, will give you nothing but 
an abstract relation, and not a real relation, an abstract 
unity, and not the real unity of the me. You will not 
therefore have that concrete idea of unity which is the 
necessary basis of the abstract idea of unity, which again 
is the basis of arithmetic, the general measure of all num 
bers ; 

2. You start from abstraction without having passed 
through the concrete ; which is contrary to the natural 
order of the understanding; 



312 ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 

3. Finally, you commit a paralogism, since you wish tc 
obtain the integrant unity of the me from the comparison 
of two abstractions which involve the supposition of pre 
cisely what you are seeking, namely, the real unity of 
the me. 

The theory of Locke therefore can not give the basis 
of geometry and arithmetic, that is, of the two most ab 
stract sciences. It works well in tl>e field of geometry 
and arithmetic in as far as they are abstract sciences ; but 
these abstract sciences, and all mathematics, depend in the 
last analysis upon primitive cognitions which imply exist 
ence ; and those primitive cognitions which imply existence 
elude the theory of Locke on every hand. Now, we have 
seen that the theory fails equally and on the same grounds, 
in respect to the knowledge of personal existence, that of 
bodies, and that of God. It follows, then, in the last re 
sult, that the theory of Locke is valid only in respect to 
pure abstraction ; and that it falls away as soon as it is 
brought face to face with any reality to be known, of any 
sort whatever. The general and unlimited pretension of 
Locke, therefore, that all knowledge, all judgment, is noth 
ing but the perception of a relation of agreement or dis 
agreement between two ideas this pretension is convicted 
in every way of error and even of absurdity. 

I am afraid this discussion of Locke s theory of knowl 
edge may appear somewhat subtile ; but when one wishes 
to follow error in all its windings, and to untie, methodic 
ally, by analysis and dialectics, the knot of sophistical 
theories instead of cutting it at once by simple good sense, 
one is obliged to engage in apparent subtilities in following 
the track of those we wish to combat ; at this price alone 
we can seize and confound them. 

I am afraid, too, that this discussion may seem to you 
very prolonged ; and yet it is not finished, for has it not yet 
penetrated to the true root of the theory of Locke. In 
fact this theory that every judgment, every knowledge 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 



313 



is nothing but the perception of a relation between two 
id eas supposes and contains another theory, which is the 
principle of the former. The examination of the one is in 
dispensable to complete that of the other, and to determine 
the judgment we ought to pass definitively upon it. 



14 



CHAPTER IX. 

THEORY OF JUDGMENT CONTINUED. 

Continuation of the preceding chapter. That the theory of judgment, 
as the perception of a relation of agreement or disagreement between 
ideas, supposes that every judgment is founded upon a comparison. 
Refutation of the theory of comparative judgment. Of axioms. Of 
identical propositions. Of Reason and of Faith. Of Syllogism. 
Of Enthusiasm. Of the cause of Error. Division of the Sciences. < 
Conclusion of the examination of the Fourth Book of Locke s Essay. 

I BELIEVE I have sufficiently refuted, by its results, the 
theory of Locke which makes knowledge or judgment to 
consist in a perception of the relation of agreement or dis 
agreement between ideas. I have demonstrated, I believe, 
that this theory can not give reality, existences ; that it is 
condemned to start from abstraction and to result in abstrac 
tion. I now come to examine this same theory under 
another aspect, not any longer in its results, but in its 
principles, in its essential principle, in its very condition.* 

It is evident that judgment can be the perception of a 
relation of agreement or disagreement of ideas, only on 
condition that a comparison be made between the ideas. 
Every judgment of relation is necessarily comparative. 

* [Locke s theory of Knowledge is that knowledge is derived solely 
by comparing ideas, considered as representative images, and discerning 
a relation of agreement or disagreement between them. It therefore 
involves three distinct positions: 1, ideas as representative images ; 2, a 
relation of agreement or disagreement between them; 3, a comparison 
made between them. The theory has been refuted in regard to the first 
two positions. It remains to examine the third; which is done in th:a 
chapter. Tii.l 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 315 

Here, if \ve look closely, is the first and the last principle 
of the theory of Locke ; a principle which the infallible 
analysis of time has successively disengaged and placed at 
the head of the logic of the Sensual school. In its germ, 
at least, it is found in the Fourth Book of the Essay on the 
Human Understanding, and there we must take it up and 
examine it. 

We observe then, once more, that the theory of com 
parative judgment,* like that of which it is the foundation, 
is an unlimited and absolute theory. It pretends to ex- 
.plain all our knowledge, all our judgments ; so that if the 
theory is correct, that is, if it be complete, there ought 
not to be a single judgment which is not a comparative 
judgment. I might then, I ought even, in this, as in the 
preceding lecture, to go from judgment to judgment, ex 
amining if they are or are not in fact the fruit of a com 
parison. But this would lead me too far, and the space I 
have yet to go over admonishes me to hasten my progress. 
I will say then all at once, that if there are many judg 
ments which are undeniably comparative, there are also 
very many which are not, and that here again every judg 
ment which implies reality and existence, excludes all com 
parison. Let us begin by accurately recognizing the con 
ditions of a comparative judgment, then we will test these 
conditions in regard to judgments which imply existence. 
We shall without doubt get again somewhat into oui 
former reasonings; but it will be requisite, in order to 
pursue and force the theory of Locke into its last hold. 

In order to make a comparison, there must be two terms 
to be compared. Whether these terms are abstractions 
or realities, is a point not any longer to our purpose to 
examine ; there must always be two terms, or the com 
parison is impossible. And it is necessary that these terms 
should be known, that they should be present to the mind, 

* On the theory of comparative judgment, see First Series, Yol. IV., 
Lecture XX., p. 370. 



316 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

before the mind can compare them and judge. All this is 
very simple ; yet it is sufficient to overthrow the theory of 
comparative judgment, in respect to reality and existence. 
For there, in fact, I maintain that judgment does not de 
pend and can not depend upon two terms. 

Let us take, for example, personal existence, and see 
what are the two terms which are to be compared in order 
to derive from them this judgment : I exist. We will, for 
this time, have nothing to say about the abstraction of self, 
and the abstraction of existence, which as we have seen 
can give only an abstract judgment. Let us take an hypo 
thesis more favorable ; let us come nearer to reality. It is 
indubitable, that if we had never thought, if we had never 
acted, never felt, we should never have known that we 
exist. Sensation, action, thinking, some phenomenon ap 
pearing on the theater of consciousness, is absolutely 
necessary, in order that the understanding may be able to 
refer this phenomenon to the subject which experiences it, 
to that subject which is ourselves. If, then, knowledge is 
here the fruit of a comparative judgment, the two terms 
of this judgment must be, on the one hand, action, sensa 
tion, thought, and in general every phenomenon of con 
sciousness; and on the other hand, the subject me. I do 
not see any other possible terms of comparison. 

Now what is the nature of these two terms ? And first, 
what is that of the phenomenon of consciousness. The 
phenomenon of consciousness is given by an immediate 
apperception which attains it and knows it directly. See, 
then, already a knowledge ; I say a knowledge, for it is 
either a mere dispute about words, or else an apperception 
of consciousness is knowledge or it is nothing. But if 
there is knowledge, there has been judgment; for ap 
parently there has been a belief of knowledge, an affirma 
tion of the truth of this knowledge, tacit or express ; 
whether the affirmation has taken place solely in the 
depths of the intelligence, or has been pronounced on the 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 317 

lips in words, at all events it has taken place : and to affirm 
is to judge. There has then been a judgment. Now there 
is here again only a single term, namely, the sensation, or 
action, or thought, in a word, a phenomenon of conscious 
ness. There can not then have been a comparison ; there 
fore again, according to Locke, there can not have been a 
judgment, if every judgment is comparative. Our cogni 
tions are all resolvable in the last analysis into affirmations 
of true or false, into jugdments; and it is a contradiction 
to say that the judgment which gives the first knowledge 
we have, the knowledge of consciousness, is a comparative 
judgment, since this knowledge has but a single term, and 
there must be two terms for every comparison. This sin 
gle term is nevertheless a knowledge, and consequently it 
supposes a judgment, but a judgment which eludes the con 
ditions which the theory of Locke imposes upon every 
judgment. 

Thus of the two necessary terms of the comparison 
from which should result the judgment : I exist, the first 
by itself alone already comprehends a knowledge, a judg 
ment, which is not and can not be comparative. It is just 
so in regard to the second term. If every phenomenon of 
consciousness, in so far as known, implies already a judg 
ment, it is evident that the me, which ought also to be 
known in order to be the second term of the comparison, 
implies likewise from the very fact of its being known, a 
judgment and that a judgment which can not have been 
comparative. In fact, if the comparison of a sensation, a 
volition, or a thought, with the me, is the foundation of 
the judgment: I exist, it follows that neither the pheno 
menon, of consciousness, nor the being, me, which are to 
be the terms of the comparison, should or can, either of 
them taken by itself, come from the comparison which has 
not yet taken place. Both of these two terms neverthe 
less constitute cognitions ; the second particularly is an im 
portant and fundamental knowledge, which evidently ira- 



318 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

plies a judgment. The theory of comparative judgment 
falls to pieces, then, in respect to the second term as well 
as the first ; and the two terms necessary, according to 
Locke, in order that a judgment may take place, contain 
each a judgment, and a judgment without any com 
parison. 

But there is a second and still greater difficulty. The 
special characteristic of every knowledge gained in con 
sciousness, is its directness and immediateness. There is 
an immediate and direct apperception of a sensation or a 
volition or a thought ; hence it is that you can observe and 
describe them in all their modes and shades, in all their 
characteristics, relative or particular, fugitive or perma 
nent. Here the judgment has no other principle than the 
faculty of judging, and the consciousness itself. There is 
no principle, general or particular, on which consciousness 
is obliged to depend in order to perceive its own objects. 
Undoubtedly any phenomenon may take place to no pur 
pose ; without an act of attention we shall not perceive it 
an act of attention is the condition of every cognition 
of consciousness ; but when this condition is fulfilled, the 
phenomena of consciousness are perceived and known 
directly. But it is not with being, with essence, as with a 
phenomenon ; it is not with the me, as with the sensation, 
volition, or thought. Suppose, when any phenomenon of 
consciousness is directly perceived, that the understanding 
was not provided with the principle : that every pheno 
menon implies a being, every quality implies a subject the 
understanding in that case would never be able to form 
the judgment, that nnder the sensation, thought or voli 
tion, there is the subject me. And bear in mind I do not 
mean to say that the understanding must know this prin 
ciple in its general and abstract form ; I have shown in 
another place that such is not the primitive form of prin 
ciples.* I merely say that the understanding [by the 

* See Chap. IT. 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 319 



ultimate law of its action] must, consciously or 
sviousty) be directed by tJiis principle, in order to affirm 
and judge, or even to suspect (which is still judging) that 
there is some being under the phenomena which conscious 
ness perceives. This principle, properly speaking, is the 
principle of being ; the principle by which self or person 
ality is revealed ; I say revealed, for the me does not fall 
under the immediate apperception of consciousness ; the 
understanding conceives and believes it, without the con 
sciousness attaining and seeing it. Sensation, volition, 
thought, are believed because they are, so to say, seen 
by the internal intuition of consciousness ; the subject 
of the sensation, of the volition, of the thought, is believed 
without being seen neither by the external senses (not by 
them very evidently), nor by the consciousness itself; it is 
believed [by a law of the mind] because it is conceived. 
The phenomenon alone is visible to the consciousness, the 
being is invisible ; but the one is a sign of the other, and 
the visible phenomenon reveals the invisible being, on the 
faith of the principle in question, without which the under 
standing would never come forth from the consciousness, 
from the visible, from the phenomenal, would never attain 
the invisible, the substance, the me. 

Moreover, there is this striking difference between the 
character of the knowledge of the me, and that of the 
knowledge of the phenomena of consciousness : the one is 
a judgment of fact which gives a truth, but a contingent 
truth, the truth, namely, that at some particular moment 
there is some particular phenomenon under the eye of con 
sciousness : while the other, when once its condition is sup 
plied, is a necessary judgment ; for as soon as an appercep 
tion of consciousness is given, we can not help judging 
that the subject of it, the me, exists. Thus in regard to 
the second term, the subject, the me, there is not only 
knowledge and consequently judgment, as is the case in 
regard to the first term ; but there is also a knowledge and 



320 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

judgment marked with characteristics altogether peculiar 
It is, then, absurd to derive the judgment of personal ex 
istence from the comparison of two terms, of which the 
second, in order to be known, supposes already a judg 
ment of a character so remarkable. And it is very evident 
that this judgment is not comparative ; for from what com 
parison could the me proceed ? Invisible, it can not be 
brought under the eye of consciousness along with the 
visible phenomenon, in order that they may be compared 
together. It is not then from a comparison of the two 
terms that the certainty of the existence of the second is 
derived ; for this second term is given us all at once, with 
a certainty which neither increases or decreases, which has 
no degrees. Far from the knowledge of the me and of 
personal existence coming from a comparison between a 
phenomenon and the me taken as correlative terms, it is 
enough to have one single term, namely, a phenomenon of 
consciousness ; and then, on the instant, and without the 
second term, me, being already otherwise known, the un 
derstanding, by its own innate energy and by that of the 
principle which in such a case directs it, conceives and, as 
it were, divines, but divines infalliby, this second term, so 
far forth as the necessary subject of the first. After hav 
ing thus conceived the second term, the understanding 
can, if it pleases, place it beside the first, and compare the 
subject me, with the phenomena of sensation, volition, 
thought ; but this comparison teaches it only what it al 
ready knew ; and comparison can do this only because the 
understanding already had the two terms which contain all 
the knowledge sought from a comparison, and which were 
acquired anterior to all comparison, by two different judg 
ments, whose only point of resemblance is that they are 
not comparative. 

The judgment of personal existence does not therefore 
depend upon the comparison of the two terms, but upon a 
single term, the phenomenon of consciousness. The latter 






ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 321 

is given immediately, and having it, the understanding 
conceives the other, that is, the me and personal existence 
hitherto unknown and consequently incapable of serving 
as the second term of a comparison. Now what is true 
of personal existence is true of all other existences and 
of the judgments which reveal them ; these judgments 
rest primitively upon a single datum. 

How do we know the external world, bodies and their 
qualities, according to the theory of Locke ? To begin 
with the qualities of bodies. If we know them, it must be 
only by a judgment founded upon a comparison, that is 
upon two terms previously known. Such is the theory : 
but it is utterly falsified by facts. 

I experience a sensation, painful or agreeable, which is 
perceived by consciousness ; this is all that is directly given 
me, and nothing more ; for we must not take for grant ea 
the thing in question, the qualities of bodies ; the problem 
is to arrive at the knowledge of them, it will not do to 
take for granted that they are already known. And you 
understand in what way we come to the knowledge of 
them, in what way we pass from the sensation, the apper 
ception of a phenomenon of consciousness to the knowl 
edge of the qualities of external objects.* It is in virtue 
of the principle of causality, which, the instant any phe 
nomenon begins to appear, leads us irresistibly to seek for 
a cause of it : and in our inability to refer to ourselves the 
cause of the involuntary sensation actually under the eye 
}f consciousness, we refer it to a cause other than ourselves, 
foreign to us, that is external. We make as many causes 
as there are distinct classes of sensations, and these differ 
ent classes are the powers, the properties, the qualities of 
bodies. It is not therefore by a comparison that we come 
to know the qualities of bodies ; for the involuntary sensa 
tion alone is given us at first, and it is after this sensation 
alone, that the mind passes the judgment, that it is impos- 

* See Chap. IY. 
14* 



322 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

sible this sensation should be self-produced, that it there 
fore refers to a cause, to an external cause, which is some 
particular quality of bodies. 

The theory of comparison can not then give the qualities 
of body : still less does it give the substratum, the subject 
of these qualities. You do not believe that there is merely ex 
tension, resistance, solidity, hardness, softness, savor, color, 
etc., before you ; but you believe that there is something 
which is colored, extended, resistant, solid, hard, etc. But 
it will not do to begin by presupposing this something at 
the same time with its qualities, so as to have these two 
terms : solidity, resistance, hardness, etc., and something 
really solid, resisting, hard, etc. two terms which you are 
then to compare in order to decide whether they agree or 
disagree. This is not the actual process ; at first you have 
solely the qualities, which are given you by the application 
of the principle of causality to your sensations ; then, and 
from this datum alone, you judge that these qualities can 
not but belong to some subject of the same nature ; and 
this subject is body.* It is not therefore to the compari 
son of two terms of which the one, namely, the subject of 
sensible qualities, was at first entirely unknown, that you 
owe the knowledge of body. 

It is just so in regard to space. There again, you have 
but a single term, a single datum, namely, bodies ; and 
upon that alone, without having any other term, you judge 
and can not help judging that bodies are in space. The 
knowledge of space is the fruit of this judgment which lias 
nothing to do with any comparison ; for you knew nothing 
of space anterior to the judgment ; but a body being given, 
you judge that space exists, and it is then only, that the 
idea of space comes up, that is to say, the second term.f 

The same thing holds in regard to time. In order to 
judge that the succession of events is in time, you do not 
have, on the one hand, the idea of succession, and on the 
* See Chap III. t Ibid 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 323 

other, the idea of time : you have but one term, namely, 
tli o succession of events, whether external events, or in 
ternal events our sensations, thoughts, or acts ; and this 
single term being given, you judge, without comparing it 
with time which is as yet profoundly unknown to you, that 
the succession of events is in time : from hence the idea, 
the knowledge of time. Thus this knowledge, so far from 
being the fruit of a comparison, becomes the possible basis 
of an ulterior comparison only on the condition that it has 
first been given you in a judgment not dependent upon 
two terms, but upon a single term, namely, the succession 
of events.* 

This is still more evident in regard to the infinite. If 
we know the infinite, we must by the theory of Locke, 
know it through a judgment, and that a comparative judg 
ment. Now the two terms of this judgment can not be 
two finite terms ; for the finite could never give the infinite ; 
it must be the finite and the infinite between which the 
mind discovers the relation of agreement or disagreement. 
But I have, I think, demonstrated, and I need here only 
refer to it,* that it is enough for us to have the idea of the 
finite given us, and we are instantly led to the judgment 
that the infinite exists ; or, to keep within the limits of the 
topics there discussed, the infinite is an attribute of time 
and of space, which we necessarily conceive, by occasion 
of the finite and contingent attributes of body and of the 
succession of events. The mind is so constituted, that, on 
occasion of the finite, it can not help conceiving the infinite. 
The finite is previously known ; but it is known entirely 
alone : it is known directly, by the senses or by conscious 
ness ; the infinite is invisible and escapes our grasp ; it is only 
conceivable and comprehensible ; it eludes the senses or the 
consciousness, and falls only under the reason ; it is neither 
one of the two terms of a comparison, nor the fruvt of it ; it 
is given us in a judgment passed on a single term, the idea 
* See Chapter III. 



324 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

of the finite. So much for judgments pertaining to exist 
ence in general. 

There are also many other judgments, not relating to 
existence, which present the same character. I shall con 
tent myself with referring to the judgments of good and 
evil, of the beautiful and the ugly. In both cases the 
judgment depends upon a single term ; and it is the judg 
ment itself which attains and reveals the other term, instead 
of resulting from the comparison of the two terms. 

According to the theory of Locke, in order to judge 
whether an action is right or wrong, good or bad, it would 
be requisite to have, first, the idea of the action, and then, 
the idea of right and wrong, and then, to compare the one 
with the other. . But in order to compare an action with 
the idea of right and wrong, it is necessary to have that 
idea, that knowledge : and that knowledge supposes a 
judgment. The question then is : whence comes this 
judgment, and how is it formed. Now we have seen,* 
that in view of particular actions, which to the eyes of the 
senses are destitute of any moral character, the understand 
ing is so constituted that it takes the initiative, and at 
tributes to these actions, indifferent to the sensibility, the 
quality of right or wrong, good or bad. From this prim 
itive judgment, which undoubtedly has its law, analysis at 
a later period derives the idea of right and wrong, which 
thenceforward serves as the rule of our subsequent judg 
ments. 

The forms of objects are to the sense, whether external 
or internal, neither beautiful nor ugly. Take away the in 
telligence, and there is for us no longer any beauty in ex 
ternal forms and things. What in fact do the senses teach 
you concerning forms? Nothing, except that they are 
round or square, colored, etc. What does consciousness 
teach you ? Nothing, but that they give you agreeable or 
disagreeable sensations. But between the agreeable or 

* Chapter V 






ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 325 

disagreeable, the square or round, the green or yellow, etc., 
and the beautiful or the ugly, there is an immense chasm. 
While the senses and the consciousness perceive such or 
such a form, such or such a feeling more or less agreeable ; 
the understanding on the other hand, conceives the beauti 
ful, as it does the good and the true, by a primitive and 
spontaneous judgment, the whole validity of which re 
sides in that of the understanding and its laws, and of which 
the sole datum is sin external perception. 

I have then demonstrated, I believe, and perhaps too 
much at length, that the theory of Locke, which makes 
knowledge to rest upon comparison, that is upon two* 
terms previously known, does not explain the true process 
of the mind in the acquisition of a great many of its cog 
nitions ; and in general, I here bring forward again the 
criticism I have so many times made upon Locke, that he 
always confounds either, the antecedents of a knowledge 
with the knowledge itself, as when he confounded body 
with space, succession with time, the finite with the infinite, 
effect with cspuse, qualities and their aggregate with sub 
stance ; or, which is a mistake not less grave, the conse 
quences of a knowledge with the knowledge itself. Here, 
for example, the comparative judgments which pertain to 
existence (and the same holds in other cases) require two 
terms, which again suppose a previous judgment founded 
on a single term, and consequently not comparative. Com 
parative judgments presuppose judgments not compara 
tive. Comparative judgments are abstract, and suppose 
real judgments ; they teach us scarcely any thing but what 
the others had already taught : they mark explicitly what 
the others had taught implicitly, but yet decisively ; they 
are arbitrary, at least in the form : the others are universal 
and necessary ; they need the aid of language ; the others 
are strictly speaking, above language, above all conven 
tional signs, and suppose necessarily nothing but the un 
derstanding and its laws. Comparative judgments pertain 



JV20 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

to reflection and to artificial logic ; primitive and not com 
parative judgments constitute the natural and spontaneous 
logic of the human race. To confound these two classes 
of judgments, is to vitiate at once all psychology and all 
loo-ic ; and yet such a confusion fills a large portion of the 
Fourth Book of the Essay on the Understanding. 

I shall now pass rapidly over the different fundamental 
points with which this book is taken up, .and you will see 
that, for the most part, we shall find continually the same 
error, the results of judgments confounded with the judg 
ments themselves: this criticism applies directly to the 
seventh chapter concerning axioms. 

If I made myself fully understood in my last lecture, it 
must be very evident to you that axioms, principles, general 
truths, are the product and expression of propositions, 
which are the expressions of primitive judgments. There 
are no axioms in the primary development of the under 
standing. There is an understanding which, when certain 
external or internal conditions are fulfilled, by virtue of its 
own laws, passes certain judgments, sometimes local and 
contingent, sometimes universal and necessary. These 
latter judgments, when we operate upon them by analysis 
and language, resolve themselves, like the others, into 
propositions; and these propositions being universal and 
necessary, like the judgments which they express, are what 
we call axioms. But it is clear that the form of the primi 
tive judgments is one thing, and the form of these same 
judgments when reduced to propositions and axioms, is 
another thing. At first, concrete, particular, and deter 
minate, at the same time that they are universal and ne- 
cessary, language and analysis raise them to the abstract 
form which is the actual form of axioms. Thus in the prim 
itive action of the mind, a particular phenomenon being 
under the eye of consciousness, you instinctively referred 
it to i subject which is yourself. But at present, instead 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 327 

of abandoning the mind to its laws, you recall them to it, 
you submit it to the axiom : Every phenomenon implies a 
subject to which it is referred; and so of the other ax 
ioms : All succession supposes time ; every body supposes 
space ; the finite supposes the infinite, etc. Do not fail to 
notice that these axioms have no force but what they bor 
row from the primitive judgments from which they are 
deduced. It is to primitive judgments we owe all real and 
fundamental knowledge, the knowledge of ourselves, of 
the world, of time, of space, and even, as I have shown in 
the last lecture, the knowledge of magnitude and of unity. 
But in respect to axioms it is not so. You acquire no real 
knowledge, for instance, by the application of the axiom ; 
every effect supposes a cause. It is the philosopher, 
and not the man, that makes use of this axiom. The 
savage, the peasant, the uneducated, know nothing of it 
but they all, as well as the philosopher, are provided 
with an understanding which makes them pass certain 
judgments, concrete, positive and determinate, and at the 
same time, necessary, the result of which is the knowledge 
of such or such a particular cause. The judgments and 
their laws, I repeat, are what produce all knowledge ; 
axioms are only the analytic expression of those judgments 
and laws, the ultimate elements of which they express 
under their most abstract form. Locke, however, instead 
of stopping within these limits, pretends that axioms are 
of no use ; that they are not the principles of the sciences ; 
and he demands somewhat contemptuously, to be shown 
a science founded upon axioms : " it has been my ill luck," 
says he ( 11), "never to meet with any such sciences; 
much less any one built upon these two maxims, what is, 
is : and, it is impossible for the same thing to be, and not 
to be. And I would be glad to be shown where any such 
science, erected upon these or any other general axioms, is 
to be found; and should be obliged to any one who would 
Uiy before me the 1 niiiie and system of any science so built 



328 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

on these or any such like maxims, that could not be shown 
to stand as firm without any consideration of them." 
Now, it is indeed true beyond all doubt, that axioms, in 
their actual form of axioms, never engendered any science : 
but it is no less true that, in their source and under their 
primitive form, that is, in the laws of the natural judgments 
from which they are deduced, they have served as the 
basis of all the sciences. Moreover, although in their actual 
form, they never have made and can not make any science, 
and although they give no particular truth ; yet it must be 
recognized that without them, no science, no truth general 
or particular, subsists. Endeavor to deny the axioms; to 
suppose, for instance, that there can be a quality without a 
subject, a body without space, succession without time, 
etc. ; set yourselves to turning into abstractions the axioms 
with which Locke has chosen to amuse himself, namely, 
what is, is; and it is impossible for the same thing to be, 
and not to be / that is to say, turn into an abstraction the 
idea of being, and of identity ; and there is an end of all 
science ; it can neither advance nor sustain itself. 

Locke pretends also (Ch. VII. 9), that the axioms are 
not the truths which we know first. True, again, without 
doubt, the axioms, under their actual form, are not primi 
tive cognitions ; but, under their real form, as laws govern 
ing the exercise of the understanding, and implied in our 
judgments, they are so truly primitive that without them 
no knowledge could be acquired. They are not indeed 
primitive as being the first truths which we know, but as 
those without which no others would be known. Here 
returns again the perpetual confusion in Locke of the his 
torical and of the logical order of human knowledge. In 
the chronological order, w r e did not begin by knowing the 
axiom, the laws of our understanding ; but, logically, with 
out the axioms, no truth is admissible ; without the opera 
tion, unnoticed, indeed, but real operation, of the laws of 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 329 

thought, no thought, no judgment is either legitimate 01 
possible. 

At last, Locke combats the axioms by a celebrated argu 
ment, since his time frequently renewed, namely, that the 
axioms are nothing but frivolous propositions, because they 
are identical propositions (Ch. VII. 11). It is Locke, I 
believe, who introduced, or at least gave vogue to the ex 
pression, identical proposition, in the language of philoso 
phy. It signifies a judgment, a proposition, wherein an 
idea is affirmed of itself; wherein we affirm of a thing what 
was already known concerning it. Elsewhere (Ch. VIII., 
of trifling propositions ; 3, of identical propositions), 
Locke shows that identical propositions are merely verbal 
propositions. " Let any one repeat as often as he pleases, 
that the will is the willy . . . . a law is a law ; and ob 
ligation is obligation / right is right ; wrong is wrong / 
.... what is this more than trifling with words ?" " It 
is," says he, " but like a monkey shifting his oyster from 
one hand to the other ; and had he words, might, no doubt, 
have said ; oyster in right hand is subject, and oyster in 
left hand is predicate ; and so might have made a self-evi 
dent proposition of oyster, that is : oyster is oyster." 
Hence the condemnation of the axiom : that which is, is, 
etc. But it is not exact, it is not fair, to concentrate all 
axioms, all principles, all primitive and necessary truths 
into the axiom : what is, is the same is the same / and to 
the trifling and ridiculous examples of Locke, I oppose, as 
examples, the following axioms, which have already been 
brought forward: quality supposes a subject ; succession 
supposes time ; body supposes space ; the finite supposes 
the infinite ; variety supposes unity / phenomenon sup* 
poses substance and being ; in short, all the necessary 
truths which our foregoing discussion must have fixed in 
your minds. The question is, whether these are identical 
propositions. In order to show that they are, Locke main 
tains that time is reducible to succession, or succession to 



330 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

time ; space to body, or body to space ; the infinite to the 
finite, or the finite to the infinite ; phenomenon to being, or 
being to phenomenon, etc. Locke by his system should 
thus maintain. But it ought by this time to be sufficiently 
evident to you that this pretension, and the system on 
which it rests, do not stand the test of reason. 

This proscription of axioms as identical, Locke extends 
to propositions which are not axioms; and in general, lie 
perceives very many more identical propositions than there 
are. For instance, gold is heavy, gold is fusible, are to 
Locke (Ch. VIII. 5 and 13) identical. Nothing is further 
from the truth, however; we do not in these propositions 
affirm the same thing of the same. A proposition is called 
identical, whenever the attribute is contained in the sub 
ject in such sort that the subject can not be conceived as 
not containing it. Thus, when you say that body is solid, 
I say that you make an identical proposition, because it is 
impossible to have the idea of body without having that of 
solidity. 

. The idea of body is perhaps more extended than that 
of solidity, but it is primarily and essentially the same. 
The idea of solidity being, then, for you the essential qual 
ity of body, to say that body is solid, is to say nothing else 
than that body is body. But when you say that gold is 
fusible, you affirm, of gold, a quality which might, or 
might not belong to it. It involves a contradiction to say 
a body is not solid ; but it involves no contradiction to sup 
pose that gold might not be fusible. Gold might for a long 
time be known solely as a solid, as hard, yellow, etc. ; if 
the experiment had not been made, if it had not been put 
in the fire, it would not be known that it is fusible. When, 
then, you affirm of gold that it is fusible, you recognize in 
it a quality which you may not have known before : cer 
tainly you do not affirm the same of the same, at least 
when you first make the assertion. At the present day, it 
is true, in the laboratory of modern chemistry, where the 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 331 

fusibility of gold is a quality universally recognized, to say 
that gold is fusible, is to repeat what is already known ; 
it is to affirm of the word gold what is already comprised 
in the received signification ; but, originally, the first one 
who affirmed that gold is fusible, far from making a tau 
tology, on the contrary, expressed the result of discovery, 
and a discovery not made without difficulty and not with 
out importance. I may ask whether Locke in his time 
would have mocked at the proposition, that the atmos 
phere has weight, as an identical and frivolous proposition ? 
Certainly not ; and why ? Because at that time, weight 
was a quality of the air which had hardly come to be de 
monstrated by the experiments of Toricelli and of Pascal. 
Those which established the fusibility and weight of gold 
were earlier by some thousands of years ; but if the asser 
tion of the gravity of the atmosphere is not an identical 
proposition, neither, on the same ground, is that of the 
fusibility of gold; since the first who announced these 
qualities did not affirm in one term what had already been 
affirmed in the other. 

As to the rest, it is worth while to note the fate of iden 
tical truths. Locke saw a great many more than there 
arc, and ridiculed them. The school of Locke has per 
ceived still more of them ; but far from condemning them 
on that score, it treats them with respect ; it even goes so 
far as to lay down as the condition of every true proposi 
tion that it must be identical. Thus, by a strange progress, 
what Locke had branded with ridicule, as frivolous, became 
in the hands of his successors a mark of legitimacy and 
truth. The identity ridiculed by Locke was nothing but a 
fictitious identity; and now, see this pretended identity, 
so much scouted by him, and so unreasonably, because it 
is not real, see it celebrated and vaunted in his school, 
with still less reason, as the triumph of truth and the last 
conquest of science and analysis. Now, if all true proposi 
tions are identical, as every identical proposition, whether 



332 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

according to Locke, it be frivolous, or according to hia 
disciples not so, is, according to both, only a verbal prop 
osition, it follows that the knowledge of all possible truths 
is only a verbal knowledge ; and thus, when we think that 
we have learned science or systems of truth, we have really 
done nothing but translate one word into another ; we only 
learn words, and a language. Hence the famous principle, 
tli at all science is only a language, dictionaries well or ill 
formed. Hence the reduction of the human mind to 
grammar. 

I pass now to other theories which remain to be exam 
ined in the Fourth Book of the Essay. 

Ch. XVII. Of Reason. I have scarcely any thing 
but praise to bestow upon this chapter. Locke there 
shows ( 4), that the syllogism is not the sole nor the prin 
cipal instrument of reasoning. The evidence of demonstra 
tion is not the only evidence ; there is, besides, the evi 
dence of intuition, upon which Locke himself rests the 
evidence of demonstration ; and, also, a third kind of evi 
dence which Locke misconceived^ namely, the evidence of 
induction. 

Now, the syllogism is of no service in regard to the 
evidence of induction ; for the syllogism proceeds from the 
general to the particular, while induction proceeds from 
the particular to the general. The syllogism, too, serves 
no purpose in regard to intuition, which is knowledge 
direct and without an intermediate. It is of use, then, 
only in respect to demonstrative evidence. But Locke 
does not stop here ; he goes even so far ( G) as to pre 
tend that the syllogism adds nothing to our knowledge, 
and that it is only a means of disputing. I here recognize 
the language of a man who wrote near the end of the 
seventeenth century, still absorbed in the movement of re 
action against the Scholastic philosophy. The Scholastic 
philosophy admitted, as Locke did, the evidence of intuition 
and demonstration ; it forgot, like Locke, the evidence of 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 333 

induction ; even more, being forbidden to choose for itself 
and to examine its principle, it scarcely employed any other 
evidence than demonstrative ; and consequently it made 
the syllogism its favorite weapon. A reaction therefore 
against the Scholastic philosophy was necessary and legiti 
mate. But every reaction goes too far. Hence the pro 
scription of the syllogism ; a blind and unjust proscription, 
for deductive" knowledge is still real knowledge. There 
are two things in the syllogism, the form and the substance. 
The substance is the real and special process by which the 
human mind goes from the general to the particular ; and 
certainly it is a process of which account should be made 
in a faithful and complete description of the human mind. 
It is not the work of a school, it is common to the ignorant 
and the learned ; it is an original and fruitful principle of 
cognitions and of truths, since it is that which gives all 
consequences. As to the form, so well described and so 
well developed by Aristotle, it is undoubtedly liable to 
abuse ; but still it has a very useful office. In general, all 
reasoning which can not be put into this form, is vague 
reasoning, which should be mistrusted ; while every true 
demonstration naturally submits itself to this form. The 
syllogistic form, it is true, is often nothing but a test applied 
to explain a deduction already made, but as a test, it is 
not without great value, a sort of guaranty of strictness 
and exactitude of which we should do unwisely to deprive 
ourselves. It is not right to say that the syllogism lends 
itself as readily to the demonstration of the false as of the 
true ; for let any error whatever be taken in the order of 
deduction, and I defy it to be put into a regular syllogism. 
The only remark which holds true, is that the human mind 
is not to be found entire in the syllogism, neither in the 
process which constitutes it, nor in the form which ex 
presses it ; because reason is not entire in reasoning, nor is 
all evidence reducible to that of demonstration. On the 
contrary, as Locke himself very clearly saw, the evidence 



334 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

of demonstration would not exist if there were not pre 
viously the evidence of intuition. Within these limits 
Locke s criticism of the syllogism must be confined. 

This same chapter XVII., contains several passages (at 
7, and seq.) on the necessity of seeking for discoveries 
by some other instrument than the syllogism. But, un 
fortunately with more of promise than performance, these 
passages give no definite indication. In order to find this 
new instrument, Locke had nothing to do but to open 
Bacon s N ovum Organum, and he would have there found 
perfectly described both sensible intuition and rational in 
tuition, and above all, induction. We are compelled to 
suspect that he had very little acquaintance with Bacon, 
when we see him darkly groping after, and unable to find, 
the new route opened a half century before, and already 
put in such clear light by his immortal countryman. 

One of the best chapters of Locke is that on Faith and 
Reason (Ch. XVIII). Locke assigns the exact province 
of reason and of faith He indicates their relative office 
and their distinct limits. He had already said (Ch. XVII. 
24) that faith in general is so little contrary to reason, 
that it is nothing else than the assent of reason to it 
self: " I think it may not be amiss to take notice that 
how r ever faith be opposed to reason, faith is nothing but a 
firm assent of the mind ; which if it be regulated, as is our 
duty, can not be afforded to any thing but upon good 
reason, and so can not be opposite to it." 

And when he comes to treat of positive faith, that is, of 
revelation, in spite of his respect, or rather by reason of 
his profound respect for Christianity, even while admitting 
(Ch. XVIII. 7) the celebrated distinction between 
things according to reason, contrary to reason, and above 
reason, he declares that no revelation, whether immediate 
or traditional, can be admitted contrary to reason. Here 
are the words of Locke, 5 : 

" No proposition can be received for divine revelation 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 335 

or obtain the assent due to all such, if it be contradictory 
to OUT clear intuitive knowledge. Because this would be to 
subvert the principles and foundations of all knowledge, 
evidence and assent whatsoever ; and there would be left 
no difference between truth and falsehood, no measures of 
credible and incredible in the world, if doubtful propositions 
shall take place before self-evident ; and what we certainly 
know give way to what we may possibly be mistaken in. 
In propositions, therefore, contrary to the clear perception 
of the agreement or disagreement of any of our ideas, it will 
be in vain to urge them as matters of faith. They can 
not move our assent under that or any other title whatso 
ever. For faith can never convince us of any thing that 
contradicts our knowledge. Because though faith be 
founded on the testimony of God (who can not lie), reveal 
ing any proposition to us, yet we can not have an assur 
ance of the truth of its being a divine revelation greater 
than our own knowledge ; since the whole strength of the 
certainty depends upon our own knowledge that God re 
vealed it ; which, in this case, where the proposition sup 
posed revealed contradicts our own knowledge or reason, 
will always have this objection hanging to it, namely, that 
we can not tell how to conceive that to come from God, 
the bountiful author of our being, which, if received for 
true, must* overturn all the principles and foundations of 
knowledge he has given us, render all our faculties useless, 
wholly destroy the most excellent part of his workmanship, 
our understandings."* 

* I can not forbear giving, on this important subject, the passage from 
2fourecutex Essais of Leibnitz corresponding to that of Locke, a passage 
entirely in accordance with what I have elsewhere more than once ex 
pressed. Leibnitz had even begun to question the celebrated distinction 
according to reason and above reason. It is curious and interesting. " J 
find something to remark on your [Locke s] definition of that which ia 
above reason, at least if you take the received usage of this word ; for 
it seems to me that, from the manner in which that definition is framed, 
it goes too far on cue side. ! :i|>[>i<;vo very strongly of your disposition 



836 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

I wish I were equally satisfied with Chapter XIX., On 
Enthusiasm. But it seems to me that Locke has not pro- 
foundly apprehended his subject ; he has made a satire 
rather than a philosophical description. 

to found faith in reason ; for without this, why should we prefer the Bible 
to the Koran, or to the sacred books of the Bramins ? This is recog 
nized by theologians and other learned men ; and hence it is that we 
have such excellent treatises on the truth of the Christian religion, and 
so many fine arguments put out against the pagans and other infidels, 
ancient and modern. Hence, also, enlightened men have always held 
as suspicious, those persons who have pretended that it is not necessary 
to put one s self to the trouble of reasons and proofs when the question 
is about believing; a thing impossible, in fact, unless believing signify 
reciting or repeating and then letting pass away, without troubling 
ourselves to understand, which many persons do, and which is also char 
acteristic of some nations more than of others. This is why some Aris 
totelian philosophers of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, wishing to 
maintain two contrary truths, the one philosophical, the other theologi 
cal, were rightly opposed by the last Lateran council, under Leo X. 

A similar dispute formerly arose at Helmstadt, between Hoffman, the 
theologian, and Martin, the philosopher; but with this difference, that 
the philosopher would conciliate philosophy with religion, while the 
theologian wished to reject the use of it. But the founder of the uni 
versity, the Duke Julius, decided in favor of philosophy. It is a fact, in 
deed, that in our times, a person of the highest eminence has declared, 
in respect to articles of faith, that it was necessary to shut the eyes in 
order to see clearly ; and Tertullian says somewhere, this is impossible, 
therefore it is true ; it is to be believed, for it is an absurdity. But if 
the intention of those who express themselves in this way, is good, the 
expressions themselves are extravagant, and may do hurt. Faith is 
grounded on the motives to belief, and on the internal grace which de 
termines the mind immediately, [this theological distinction of Leibnitz 
is a bottom to our philosophical distinction between spontaneous reason 
and reflective reason]. It must be allowed that there are many judg 
ments more evident than those which depend on these grounds or mo 
tives of credibility. Some are further advanced in a knowledge of them 
than others, and there are many persons even, who have never known, 
and still less weighed, and consequently have not any thing that can be 
called the [external] ground, or evidence of their faith. But the internal 
grace of the Holy Spirit supplies it immediately. It is true that God 
never gives it, but where the faith which it produces is in something 






ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 337 

What, in fact, is enthusiasm according to Locke ? It is 
1, the pretension of referring to a positive, privileged, and 
personal revelation, to a divine illumination made in our 
particular favor, our own peculiar sentiments, which often 
are nothing but extravagances; 2, the pretension, still 
more absurd, of imposing upon others these imaginations, 
as superior orders clothed with divine authority. (See 5 
and 6.) These are indeed the follies of enthusiasm. But 
is enthusiasm nothing but this ? 

that is really grounded in reason, otherwise he would destroy the means 
of knowledge ; but it is not necessary that all those who have this divine 
faith should know those reasons or evidences, and still less that they 
should have them always before their eyes ; for in such a case, feeble 
minded persons and idiots could never have true faith, and the most en 
lightened would not have it when they might stand most in need of it, 
for they could not always recollect the reasons for believing. The ques 
tion of the use of reason in theology has been greatly agitated as much 
between the Socinians and the Catholics as between the Reformed and 
the Lutherans. We may say that the Socinians go too far in rejecting 
every thing that is not conformed to the order of nature, even when they 
can not prove its impossibility ; but their adversaries go too far in some 
times urging mysteries to the borders of contradiction; by which they 
injure the truth they wish to defend. How can faith establish any thing 
that overthrows a principle, without which all belief, affirmation, or de 
nial, would be vain ? But it seems to me there still remains a question, 
which the authors of whom I speak have not sufficiently examined. It 
is this : Suppose that on the one hand we have the literal sense of a 
passage of Scripture, and on the other a great appearance of logical im 
possibility, or, at least, of acknowledged physical impossibility; is it 
more reasonable to hold to the literal sense, or to the philosophical 
principle ? It is certain that there are passages in which we have no 
Hesitation in departing from the literal sense, as when, etc. It is here 
that the rules of interpretation come in. The two authors of whom 
speak (Musaeus and Yidelius), still dispute concerning the attempt of 
Kekerman to demonstrate the Trinity by reason, as Raymond Lully had 
attempted before. But Musaeus acknowledges with great fairness, that 
if the demonstration of the reformed author had been good and sound, 
he should have had nothing to say ; and that the author would have 
been right in maintaining that the light of the Holy Spirit could be in 
creased by philosophy." 

15 



338 ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 

Locke has elsewhere perfectly seen that the evidence of 
demonstration is founded upon that of intuition. He haa 
even said that of these two kinds of evidence, the evidence 
of intuition is not only anterior to the other, but is superior 
to it, and is the highest degree of knowledge (Ch. XVII. 
14). " Intuitive knowledge is certain, beyond all doubt, 
and needs no probation, nor can have any, this being the 
highest of all human certainty. In this consists the evi 
dence of all those maxims which nobody has any doubt 
about, but every man (does not, as is said, only assent to, 
but) knows to be true as soon as ever they are proposed 
to his understanding. In the discovery of and assent to 
these truths, there is no use of the discursive faculty, no 
need of reasoning, but they are known by a superior and 
higher degree of evidence ; and such, if I may guess at 
things unknown, I am apt to think that angels have now, 
and the spirits of just men made perfect shall have in a 
future state, of thousands of things, which now either 
wholly escape our apprehensions, or which, our short 
sighted reason having got some faint glimpse of, we, in 
the dark, grope after. ..." I accept this statement, let 
it be consistent or not as the case may be, with the general 
system of Locke. I add that intuitive knowledge, in many 
cases, for example, in regard to time, space, personal 
identity, the infinite, all substantial existences, as also, the 
good and the beautiful, has, you know, this peculiarity, 
that it is not grounded upon the senses nor upon the con 
sciousness, but upon the reason, which, without the inter 
vention of any reasoning, attains its objects and conceives 
them with certainty. Now, it is an attribute inherent in 
the reason, to believe in itself; and from hence comes faith. 
If, then, intuitive reason is above inductive and demonstra 
tive reason, the faith of reason in itself in intuition, is purer 
and more elevated than the faith of reason in itself in in 
duction and demonstration. Recollect likewise that the 
truths intuitively discovered by reason are not arbitrary, 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 331) 

but necessary; that they are not relative, but absolute. 
The authority of reason is absolute ; it is then a character* 
istic of the faith attached to reason to be like reason ab 
solute. These are the admirable characteristics of reason, 
and of the faith of reason hi itself. 

This is not all. When we interrogate reason as to the 
source of that absolute authority which characterizes it, we 
are forced to recognize that this reason is not ours, nor, 
consequently is the authority which belongs to it ours. 
It is not in our power to make reason give us such or such 
a truth, or not to give it to us. Independently of our 
will, reason intervenes, and, when certain conditions are 
fulfilled, suggests to us, I might say, imposes upon us, 
these truths. Reason makes its appearance in us, though 
it is not ourselves, and can in no way be confounded with 
our personality. Reason is impersonal. Whence then comes 
this wonderful guest within us, and what is the principle 
of this reason which enlightens us, without belonging to 
us ? This principle is God, the first and the last principle 
of every thing. When reason knows that it conies from 
God, the faith it had in itself increases not merely in de 
gree, but in nature, by as much, so to say, as the eternal 
substance is superior to the finite substance. Thus comes a 
redoubled faith in the truths revealed by the supreme reason 
in the shadows of time and in the limits of our weakness.* 

See, then, reason become to its own eyes divine in its 
principle. Now this state of reason which hears itself and 
takes itself as the echo of God on the earth, with the par 
ticular and extraordinary characteristics connected with it, 
is what is called enthusiasm. The word sufficiently ex 
plains the thing ; enthusiasm [0o? ev fyiiv] is the breath 
of God within us ; it is immediate intuition, opposed to 
induction and demonstration ; it is the primitive spon 
taneity opposed to the ulterior development of reflection 
-t is the apperception of the highest truths by reason in Ha 
* See Introduction to the History of Philosophy, Lcct. VI. 



340 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY, 

greatest independence both of the senses and of our per 
sonality. Enthusiasm in its highest degree, in its crisis, so 
to say, belongs only to particular individuals, and to them 
only in particular circumstances ; but in its lowest degree, 
enthusiasm pertains not to any particular individual, or 
epoch, but to human nature, in all men, in all conditions, 
and almost at every hour. It is enthusiasm which pro 
duces spontaneous convictions and resolutions, in little as 
in great, in the hero as in the feeblest woman. Enthusiasm 
is the poetic spirit in every thing ; and the poetic spirit, 
thanks to God, does not belong exclusively to poets ; it 
has been given to all men in some degree, more or less 
pure, more or less elevated ; it appears most in particular 
men, and in particular moments of the life of such men, 
who are the poets by eminence. It is enthusiasm likewise 
which produces religions, for every religion supposes two 
things: that the truths which it proclaims are absolute 
truths ; and that it proclaims them in the name of God him 
self who reveals them to it. 

Thus far all is well : we are still within the conditions of 
reason ; for it is reason which is the foundation of faith and 
of enthusiasm, of heroism, of poetry and of religion. And 
when the poet, when the priest, repudiate reason in the 
name and behalf of enthusiasm and faith, they do nothing 
else, whether they are aware or ignorant of it (and it is the 
affair neither of poets, nor of priests, to give account of 
what they do), they do nothing else, I say, than put one 
mode of reason above other modes of the same reason ; for, 
if immediate intuition is above ratiocination, yet it none the 
less pertains to reason. But it is in vain to try to repudiate 
reason ; we always make use of it. Enthusiasm is a rational 
fact, which has its place in the order of natural facts, and 
m the history of the human mind ; only this fact is ex 
tremely delicate, and enthusiasm may easily turn into folly. 
We are here upon the doubtful border between reason and 
extravagance. See the legitimate principle, the universal 



ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 34J 

and necessary principle of religions, a principle which must 
not be confounded with the aberrations by which it may 
be corrupted. Thus disengaged and set in a clear light by 
analysis, philosophy ought to recognize it, if it wishes to 
recognize all the essential facts, all the elements of reason 
and of humanity. 

See now how error begins. Enthusiasm is, I repeat, that 
spontaneous intuition of truth by reason, as independent as 
possible of the personality and of the senses. But it often 
happens that the senses and the personality introduce them 
selves into the inspiration itself and mingle with it mate 
rial, arbitrary, false and ridiculous details. It happens 
likewise, that those who share, in a superior degree, this 
revelation of God which is made in some measure to all 
men, imagine it to be peculiar to themselves, and denied 
to others, not only in this degree, but totally and abso 
lutely. They set up in their minds, in their own behalf, 
a sort of privilege of inspiration ; and as in inspiration we 
feel the duty of submitting ourselves to the truths which 
inspiration reveals, and the sacred mission of proclaiming 
and spreading them, we frequently go to the extent of sup 
posing that it is also a duty for us, while submitting our 
selves to these truths, to subject others likewise to them, 
and to impose them upon others, not in virtue of our own 
power and personal illumination, but in virtue of the supe 
rior power from which all inspiration emanates. On our 
knees ourselves, before the principle of our enthusiasm and 
our faith, we wish also to make others bend their knees to 
the same principle, to make them adore and serve it, for 
the same reason that we adore and serve it. From hence 
religious authority ; from hence also tyranny. Men begin 
by believing in special revelations made in their favor; 
they end by regarding themselves as delegates of God and 
Providence, commissioned not only to enlighten and save 
teachable souls, but to enlighten and save, spite of 
selves, those who resist the truth and God. 



342 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

But the folly and the tyranny, which, I grant, sometimes 
sprirg from the principle of inspiration, because we are 
feeble, and consequently exclusive, and therefore intolerant, 
are essentially distinct from the principle. We can and 
we ought to do honor to the principle, while at the same 
time we condemn the errors connected with it. But in 
stead of this, Locke confounds the abuse of the principle, 
that is to say, extravagant enthusiasm, peculiar to some 
men, with the principle itself, the true enthusiasm which 
has been given in some degree to all men. In enthusiasm 
throughout he sees nothing but a disordered movement 
of the imagination ; and every where he sets himself to 
putting up barriers to all passing beyond the circle of au 
thentic and properly interpreted passages of the Holy 
Scriptures. I approve this prudence ; I allow it at all 
times ; and I think still better of it when I recollect the 
extravagances of Puritan enthusiasm which Locke had the 
spectacle of before his eyes. But prudence should never 
degenerate into injustice. What would the Sensual school 
say, if, from prudence likewise, idealism should wish to 
suppress the senses on account of the excesses to which 
the senses may and very often do conduct, or reasoning, 
on account of the sophisms which it engenders ? We 
must be wise within bounds, sobrie sapere ; we must be 
wise within the limits of humanity and of nature ; and 
Locke was wrong in looking at enthusiasm so much less in 
itself, than in its consequences, and even in its foolish and 
pernicious consequences. 

Next follows Ch. XX. On the causes of Error. Near 
ly all those signalized by Locke had been recognized be 
fore him. They are : 1, want of proofs ; 2, want of ability 
to use them ; 3, want of will to use them ; 4, wrong meas 
ures of probability which are reduced by Locke to the four 
following: 1, propositions that are not in themselves cer 
tain and evident, but doubtful and false, taken up for prin 
ciples ; 2, received hypotheses ; 3, predominant passions or 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 343 

inclinations; 4, authority. This whole chapter may be 
read with profit ; but I shall dwell only upon the last sec 
tion (18th), entitled; "Men not in so many errors as is 
imagined." I avow that I was singularly pleased, from the 
optimism which you know I cherish, with the title of this 
paragraph. I hoped to find in the good and wise Locke 
these two propositions which are so dear to me ; first that 
men do not so much believe in error as in truth ; and sec 
ondly, that there is no error in which there is not some 
share, however small, of truth. So far from this, however, 
I perceived that Locke, in this matter of error, makes an 
apology for human nature that is but little creditable to it. 
If men are not the fools which they appear to be, it is, ac 
cording to Locke, because they really have but little faith 
in the foolish opinions with which they have the air of 
being so persuaded ; but follow them merely from habit, 
excitement or interest. " They are resolved to stick to a 
party that education or interest has engaged them in ; and 
there, like the common soldiers of an army, show their 
courage and warmth as their leaders direct, without even 
go much as examining or knowing the cause they contend 
for. ... It is enough for a man to obey his leaders, to 
have his hand and his tongue ready for the support of 
the common cause, and thereby approve himself to those 
who can give him credit, preferment, or protection in that 
society." 

Here, again, Locke suffered himself to be disturbed by 
the spectacles presented by his own times ; when, amid 
so many follies, there might very likely be some of them 
dissembled ; but all were not so, and could not be. I allow 
that in times of revolution, ambition frequently takes the 
standard of extravagances which it does not believe in, 
in order to lead the crowd ; but it is not right to calumniate 
even ambition. Every thing is entire in humanity ; and a 
man may be at the same time both very ambitious and 
<rery sincere. Cromwell, for instance, was, in my opinion, 



344 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

a sincere Puritan even to fanaticism ; and likewise greedy 
of power to a degree that made him a hypocrite in order 
to gain it ; yet still his hypocrisy is more secure and more 
doubtful than his fanaticism. Probably it only led him to 
exaggerate the opinions which were really in his heart, and 
to caress the passions, which he himself shared. Hia 
tyranny is not a proof that his republican ardor was as 
sumed. There are times when the popular cause needs a 
master; and when the good sense which perceives this neces 
sity, and the genius which feels its own strength, easily 
impel an ardent mind to arbitray power, without implying 
excessive egotism. Pericles, Ca3sar, Cromwell, and another 
still, might very sincerely have loved equality in the midst 
of a dictatorship. There is perhaps now in the world a 
man, whose ambition is the last hope of the country which 
he has twice saved, and which alone he can save again by 
applying a firm hand.* But let us leave great men, who, 
to expiate their superiority and their glory, are often con- 
demed not to be comprehended ; let us leave the chiefs, 
and come to the multitude. Here the explanation of 
Locke fails. We can, indeed, explain to a certain extent 
the foolish opinions of some men by the interest they have 
in simulating those of the masses upon whom they wish to 
support themselves; but the masses can not hold false 
opinions by imposture ; for apparently they have no wish 
to deceive themselves. ISTo ; this is not the way to justify 
error and humanity. Their true apology is that which I 
have so many tunes given, and which I shall never cease to 
repeat : that there is no total error in an intelligent and 
rational being. Men, individuals and nations, men of 
genius and ordinary men, unquestionably give in to many 
errors, and attach themselves to them; but not to that 
which makes them errors, but to the part of truth which 
is J" *hem. Examine to the bottom all the celebrated 

* The allusion is to Bolivar. 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 3*5 

errors, political, religious, philosophical ; there is not one 
which has not a considerable portion of truth in it ; and it 
is to this it owes its reception in the minds of the great 
men, who introduced it upon the scene of the world, and 
in the minds of the multitude, who have followed the 
great men. It is the truth joined to the error, which gives 
to the error its force, which gives it birth, sustains it, 
spreads it, explains and excuses it. Errors gain success in 
the world, no otherwise than by carrying along with them, 
and offering, as it were, for their ransom, so much of 
truth, as, piercing through the mists which envelop it, 
enlighten and carry forward the human race. I approve 
entirely, then, the title of Locke s paragraph ; but I reject, 
his development of it.* 

The twenty-first Chapter contains a division of the sci 
ences into physics, practics, and logic or grammar. By 
physics, Locke understands the nature of things, not only 
of bodies, but of spirits, God and the soul ; it is the ancient 
physics and the modern ontology. I have nothing to say 
of this division but that it is very ancient, obviously arbi 
trary and superficial, and very much inferior to the cele 
brated division of Bacon, reproduced by D Alembert. I 
find it indeed very difficult to believe that the author of 
this division could have known this division of Bacon. I 

* I am happy to confirm an opinion so dear to me by the greatest 
authority that I can recognize among the moderns, that of Leibnitz. 
The following is his reply on this point to Locke : " the justice you 
would do to the human race does not turn to its credit ; for men would 
be much more excusable in following their opinions sincerely, than in 
counterfeiting them from motives of interest. Perhaps, however, there is 
more sincerity in point of fact than you seem to accord ; for without any 
knowledge of the cause, they may come to exercise an implicit faith by 
submitting themselves generally and sometimes blindly, but always in 
good faith, to the judgment of others whose authority they have once 
recognized. It is true that the advantage they may find in it may con 
tribute something to producing this submission ; but this may not ure* 
vent their opinions being heartilv entertained." 
" 15* 



346 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

Bee rather, in this, as also in the Third Book concerning 
signs and language, marks of the reading and recollection 
of Hobbes. 

We have at length come to the end of this long analysis 
of the Fourth Book of the Essay of Locke. I have fol 
lowed, step by step, all the important propositions con 
tained in it, as I have done in regard to the preceding 
books. I should not, however, give a complete view of the 
Essay on the Human Understanding, if I should stop with 
out exhibiting some theories of great importance, which 
are not thrown in episodically in the work of Locke, but 
pertain closely to the general spirit of his system, and have 
acquired in the Sensual school an immense authority. It 
has appeared to me proper to reserve these theories for a 
special examination. 



CHAPTER X. 

OF LIBERTY. OF THE SOUL. OF GOD. CONCLUSION. 

Examination of three important Theories found in the Essay on the 
Human Understanding : 1. Theory of Freedom ; which inclines to 
Fatalism. 2. Theory of the Nature of the Soul ; which inclines to 
Materialism. 3. Theory of the Existence of God which rests itself al 
most exclusively upon external proo fs, drawn from the sensible world. 
Recapitulation of the whole Examination of the Essay of Locke ; 
the Merits and the Faults which have been pointed out. Of the spirit 
which has governed this Examination. Conclusion. 

THE theories which I wish to now discuss, are those con 
cerning Liberty, the Soul, and God. I wish to explain 
these three theories in the order in which they occur in 
the Essay on the Human Understanding. 

In order to enable you to comprehend clearly the true 
character of Locke s theory of Liberty, some preliminary 
explanations are indispensable. 

All the facts which can fall under the consciousness of 
man, and under the reflection of the philosopher, resolve 
themselves into three fundamental facts, which comprise 
all the rest ; three facts which without doubt are never in 
reality solitary ; but which are not the less distinct ; and 
which a careful analysis ought to distinguish, without 
dividing, in the complex phenomenon of intellectual life. 
These three facts are expressed in the words : to fetil, to 
think, to act. 

I open a book and read ; let us decompose this fact, and 
we shall find in it three elements. 



348 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

Suppose I do not see the letters of which each page is 
composed, nor the form and order of the letters; it ia 
quite obvious I shall not comprehend the meaning which 
usage has attached to those letters, and so I shall not read. 
To see, then, is here the condition of reading. But, on 
the other hand, to see is still not to read ; for, the letters 
being seen, nothing would be done if the intelligence were 
not superadded to the sense of sight, in order to compre 
hend the signification of the letters placed before my 
eyes. 

Here, then, are two facts, which the most superficial 
analysis immediately discerns in the fact of reading. 
Let us recognize the characteristics of these two facts. 

Am I the cause of the vision, and in general of sensa 
tion ? Am I conscious of being the cause of this phenom 
enon ; of commencing, continuing, interrupting, increas 
ing, diminishing, maintaining and terminating it, at my 
pleasure ? I will refer to other examples more striking. 
Suppose I press upon a sharp instrument ; a painful sensa 
tion ensues. I put a rose to my nose ; and an agreeable 
sensation is the result. Is it I who produce these two phe 
nomena? Can I make them cease? Does the pain or 
pleasure come or go at my wish ? No : I am subject to the 
pleasure as well as to the pain; both come, continue, and 
depart, without regard to my will. In a word, sensation 
is a phenomenon, marked in the eye of my consciousness, 
with the undeniable characteristic of necessity. 

Let us now examine the character of the other fact, 
which sensation indeed precedes, but does not constitute. 
When the sensation is accomplished, the intelligence con 
nects itself with the sensation ; and first it pronounces that 
the sensation has a cause, the cutting instrument, the rose, 
and, to return to our first example, the letters placed be 
fore the eyes ; this is the first judgment passed by the intel 
lect. Further : as soon as the sensation is referred by the 
intellect to an external cause namely, to the letters and 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 349 

the words which they form, this same intellect conceives 
the meaning of these letters and words, and judges of the 
truth or falseness of the propositions formed by them. The 
intellect, then, judges that the sensation has a cause ; but 
I ask could it judge the contrary ? No : the intellect can 
no more judge that this sensation is without a cause than 
it was possible for the sensation to be or not to be when 
the cutting instrument was in the wound, the rose at the 
organ of smelling, or the book before the eyes. And not 
only does the intellect of necessity judge that the sensation 
has a cause, but it also of necessity judges that the propo 
sitions contained in the lines perceived by the eye are true 
or false ; for instance, that two and two make four, and not 
five, etc. I ask again if it is in the power of the intellect 
to judge at pleasure concerning any particular action of 
which the book speaks, that it is good or bad ; or concern 
ing any particular form which the book describes, that it is 
beautiful or ugly ? By no means. Undoubtedly different 
intellects, or the same intellect at different periods of its 
exercise, will often pass very different judgments in regard 
to the same thing ; it will often even be deceived ; it will 
judge that which is true to be false, the good to be bad, 
the beautiful to be ugly, and the reverse ; but, at the mo 
ment when it judges that a proposition is true or false, an 
action good or bad, a form beautiful or ugly, at that mo 
ment, it is not in the power of the intellect to pass any 
other judgment than that it passes. It obeys laws which 
it did not make. It yields to motives which determine 
it independently of the will. In a word, the phenomenon 
of intelligence, comprehending, judging, knowing, think 
ing, whatever name be given to it, is marked with the 
same characteristic of necessity as the phenomenon of sen 
sibility. If then the sensibility and the intellect are under 
the dominion of necessity, it is not in them, assuredly, that 
we are to seek for liberty. 

Where, then, are we to seek for it ? It must be found 



350 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

in the third fact blended with the two others, and which 
we have not yet analyzed, or it is to be found nowhere, 
and liberty is only a chimera. 

To see and to feel, to judge and to comprehend do not 
exhaust the complex fact submitted to our analysis. If I 
do not look at the letters of this book, shall I see them, or 
at least shall I see them distinctly ? If, seeing the letters, 
I do not give my attention to them, shall I comprehend 
them ? Certainly not. Now what is it to look, to give at 
tention ? It is neither to feel nor to comprehend ; for to 
look is not to perceive, if the organ of vision is wanting, 
or is untrue ; to give attention is still not to comprehend ; 
it is an indispensable condition of comprehending, but not 
always a sufficient reason ; it is not enough to be attentive 
to the statement of a problem, in order to solve it ; and at 
tention no more includes the understanding, than it is in 
cluded in the sensibility. To be attentive is a new phe 
nomenon, which it is impossible to confound with the first 
two, although it is perpetually blended with them, and 
along with them makes up the total fact which we were to 
explain. 

Let us examine the character of this third fact, the phe 
nomenon of activity. Let us first distinguish the different 
sorts of action. There are actions which a man does not 
refer to himself, although he may be the theater on which 
they are displayed. Others may tell us that we performed 
these actions ; but we ourselves know nothing of them ; 
they are done in us, but we do them not. In lethargy, in 
sleep, real or artificial, in delirium, we execute a multitude 
of motions which resemble actions, which are actions even, if 
you please, but which present the following characteristics : 

We have no consciousness of them at the time when wo 
appear to be performing them ; 

We have no recollection of having performed them ; 

Consequently we do not refer them to ourselves, neither 
while we were performing them, nor afterward ; 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 351 

Consequently, again, they do not belong to us, and we 
do not impute them to ourselves, any more than to our 
neighbor, or to an inhabitant of another world. 

But are there not other actions besides such ? I open 
this book ; I look at the letters ; I give my attention to 
them these are certainly actions too ; do they resemble 
the preceding ? 

I open this book ; am I conscious of doing it ? Yes. 

This action being done, do I remember it ? Yes. 

Do I refer this action to myself as having done it ? Yes. 

Am I convinced that it belongs to me ? Could I impute 
it to such or such another person, as well as to myself, or 
am I myself solely and exclusively responsible in my own 
eyes ? Here likewise I answer yes to myself. 

And in fine, at the moment when I do this action, along 
with the consciousness of doing it, am I not conscious 
likewise of power not to do it ? When I open this book, 
am I not conscious of opening it, and conscious also of 
power not to open it ? When I look, do I not know at 
once that I look, and that I am able not to look ? When 
1 give my attention, do I not know that I give it, and that 
I am able also not to give it ? Is not this a fact which 
each of us can repeat as many times as he pleases, and on 
a thousand occasions ? Is not this the universal belief 
of the human race ? Let us, then, generalize, and say 
that there are motions and actions which we perform with 
the twofold consciousness of doing them, and of being able 
not to do them. 

Now, an action performed with the consciousness of 
power not to do it, is what men have called a free action ; 
for there is no longer in it the characteristic of necessity. 
In the phenomenon of sensation, I could not help enjoying 
when an agreeable sensation fell under my consciousness ; 
I could not help suffering when the pain was present ; I 
was conscious of feeling with the consciousness of not being 
able not to feel. In the phenomenon of intelligence, I 



352 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

could not help judging that two and two make four; I was 
conscious of thinking this or that, with the consciousness 
of not being able not to think it. In certain motions, like 
wise, I was so little conscious of power not to make them, 
that I made them without any consciousness even of doing 
so at the very moment I was making them. But in a 
great number of cases, I perform certain actions with the 
consciousness of doing them, and of being able not to do 
them, of ability to suspend or to continue them, to com 
plete or to cut them short. This is a class of facts of 
undoubted reality ; they are very numerous ; but if there 
were but a single one, it would be enough to establish in 
man a special power, that of liberty. Liberty, then, is the 
attribute, neither of the sensibility nor of the intelligence ; 
it belongs to the activity, and solely to acts which we per 
form with the consciousness of doing them, and of being 
able not to do them. 

After having stated a free act, it is necessary to analyze 
it more attentively. 

A free act is a phenomenon which includes many differ 
ent elements blended together. To act freely, is to do an 
act with the consciousness of being able not to do it : now, 
to do an act with the consciousness of being able not to do 
it, supposes that one prefers doing it to not doing it ; to 
commence an action, with ability not to have commenced 
it, is to have preferred to commence it ; to continue it, 
when able to suspend it, is to have preferred continuing it ; 
to carry it out to the end, when able to abandon it, is to 
have preferred completing it. But to prefer supposes 
that we have motives of preference, motives to perform 
the action, and motives not to perform it ; that we know 
these different motives ; and that we prefer the one to the 
other. What these motives are, whether passions or ideas, 
errors or truths, this or that, is of little moment ; what is 
important, is to know what is the faculty here in operation, 
that is to say, what the faculty is which knows these mo 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 353 

tives, which prefers one to the other, which judges that 
the one is preferable to the other, for that is to prefer. 
Now, what is it that knows, and judges, but the intellect? 
The intellect, then, is the faculty which prefers. But to 
prefer one motive to another, to judge that the one is 
preferable to the other, it is not enough to know the dif 
ferent motives, it is necessary likewise to have compared 
and weighed them ; it is necessary to have deliberated and 
concluded. And what is it to deliberate ? It is nothing 
else than to examine with doubt, to appreciate the relative 
value of those different motives, not yet perceiving it with 
that evidence which decides the judgment, the conviction, 
the preference. But what is that which examines, which 
doubts, which judges that it ought not yet to judge, in or 
der that it may judge the better ? Evidently the intellect, 
which, subsequently, after having passed several provisional 
judgments, will abrogate them all, will judge that they are 
less true, less reasonable than some other one, will to pass 
a final judgment, that is to say, will conclude, that is to 
say again, will prefer after having deliberated. It is in the 
intellect, that the phenomenon of preference, and the other 
phenomena implied in it, take place. Thus far then we 
are still within the sphere of the intelligence, and not in 
that of action. The intellect, to be sure, has its conditions ; 
no one examines who does not wish to examine, and the 
will intervenes in deliberation ; but it is simply as a condi 
tion ; and not as the ground of the phenomenon ; for, al 
though it is true, that without the faculty of willing, all 
examination and deliberation would be impossible, it is also 
true that the faculty which examines and deliberates, the 
faculty whose proper office is examination, deliberation, 
and all judgment, whether preliminary or decisive, is the 
intellect. Deliberation and conclusion or preference, are, 
then, facts purely intellectual. Let us pursue our analysis. 
"We have conceived the different motives for doing or 
not doing an action ; we have deliberated on these motives, 



354 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

and we have preferred some to the others ; we have con 
cluded to do it, rather than not to do it ; but to conclude 
to do, and to do, are not the same thing. When the in 
tellect has judged that this or that is to be done, from such 
or such motives, it remains to pass on to action, and at 
once to resolve, to take sides, to say no longer : I ought to 
do, but : I will to do. Now the faculty, which says : I 
ought to do, is not and can not be the faculty which says : 
I will to do, I take the resolution to do. Here the action 
of the intelligence ceases. I ought to do, is a judgment ; 
I will to do, is not a judgment. See, then, a new element, 
which must not be confounded with the former ; this ele 
ment is the will. A moment before we were in a state of 
judging and knowing ; now we are in a state of willing. 
I say willing, and not doing ; for, as to judge that a thing 
should be done, is not to will to do it, so likewise to will to 
do it, is yet not to do it. To will is an act, and not a judg 
ment ; but it is an act altogether internal. It is evident 
that this act is not an action properly so called ; in order 
to arrive at action, it is necessary to pass from the internal 
sphere of the will, to the sphere of the external world, 
wherein the action is definitively accomplished which you 
first conceived, deliberated on and preferred, and then 
willed that it should be executed. If there were no exter 
nal world, there would be no completed action ; and not 
only is it necessary that there should be an external world, 
but also that the power of willing should be connected with 
another power, a physical power, which serves as an instru 
ment and by which it can attain the external world. Sup 
pose that the will was not united with an organization, 
there would no longer be any bridge between the will and 
the external world ; and no external action would be pos 
sible. The physical power, necessary to action, is the or 
ganization; it is admitted that the muscular system is the 
special instrument of the will. Take away the muscular 
system, and there is no more effort possible, consequently 



ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 355 

no more locomotion and movement possible, and therefore 
no more external action possible. Thus, to resume what 
has been said, the total action, which we were to analyze, 
resolves itself into three elements perfectly distinct: 1, the 
intellectual element, which is composed of the knowledge 
of the motives for and against, of deliberation, of prefer 
ence, of choice ; 2, the voluntary element, which consists 
solely iii the resolution to do ; 3, the physical element, or 
external action. 

The question now to be decided is, precisely in which of 
these three elements liberty is to be found, that is, the 
power of doing with the consciousness of being able not to 
do. Does this power of doing, while conscious of the power 
not to do, belong to the first element, the intellectual ele 
ment of the free action ? It does not ; for we are not 
master of our preferences ; we prefer this or that motive 
for or against according to our intellectual nature, which 
has its necessary laws, without having the consciousness of 
being able to prefer or judge otherwise, and even with the 
consciousness of not being able to prefer or judge other 
wise than we do. It is not therefore in this element that 
we are to look for liberty. Still less is it in the third ele 
ment, in the physical action ; for this action supposes an 
external world, an organization corresponding to it, and, in 
this organization, a muscular system, sound and suitable, 
without which the physical action is impossible. When we 
accomplish it, we are conscious of acting, but under the 
condition of a theater of which we have not the disposal, 
and of instruments, of which we have but an imperfect dis 
posal, which we can neither retake, if they escape us, and 
they may do so every moment, nor repair, if they are out 
of order and unfaithful, as is often the case, and which are 
subject to laws peculiar to themselves over which we have 
no power and which we scarcely even know ; whence it 
follows, that we do not act here with the consciousness of 
being able to do the contrary of what we do Liberty is 



356 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

therefore no more to be found in the third, than . . the first 
element. It can then only be in the second ; am * there in 
fact we find it. 

Neglect the first and the third element, the judgment 
and the physical action, and turn to the second element, 
the willing : analysis discovers in this single element two 
terms, namely, a special act of willing, and the power of 
willing, which is within us, and to which we refer the spe 
cial act. This act is an effect in relation to the power of 
willing which is its cause ; and this cause, in order to pro 
duce its effect, has need of no other theater, and no other 
instrument, than itself. It produces it directly, without 
intermediate and without condition ; continues it and con 
summates it ; or suspends it and modifies it ; creates it en 
tirely, or annihilates it entirely; and at th moment it 
exerts itself in any special act, we are cons ious that it 
might exert itself in a special act totally conti.vry, withoit 
being thereby exhausted ; so that after having changed its 
acts a hundred times, the faculty would remain integrally 
the same, inexhaustible and identical, amid the perpetual 
variety of its applications, being always able to do what it 
does not do, and able not to do what it does. Here, then, 
in all its plenitude, is the characteristic of liberty.* 

* On this essential point, see Course of History of Modern Philosophy, 
First Series, Vol. IV. p. 545, et seq. [The passage referred to by Cousin, 
occurs in his critical examination of Eeid s philosophy. I think it bes, 
to introduce it here ; it is as follows : 

" Volitions are acts distinct from the power which produces them : 
they are effects of which the will is the cause. Between this cause and 
its effects there is no foreign intermediate : there is no paralysis to be 
feared. In order for the will to produce a muscular effort, there must 
needs be the concurrence of the muscular power ; but in order for the 
will to produce a volition, a resolution, a determination, the concurrence 
of no foreign power is needful. In the production of effort and of mus 
cular motion, I learn how the forces of nature, physical causes destitute 
of thought and will, operate in the service of an intelligent and volun 
tary cause ; in the production of volition, I have the consciousness of 
the action of that cause, operating by its own energy and without over- 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 357 

If the whole outward world were wanting to the will, 
yet if the organization and the muscular system existed, the 

passing its sphere. As the muscular effort is the type of the action of 
the will in the sensible world, so the willing is the type of the pure act, 
of the spiritual operation of the will upon itself. Between a volition and 
the power of willing, the sole intermediate, the sole causal bond, is the 
willing itself, which is the will passed into act, and, as Aristotle says, 
the voluntary power realized or rather realizing itself. It is evidently 
in this operation of the will that liberty is found. 

The will is mine, and I dispose absolutely of it within the limits of 
the spiritual world. There, the cause which I myself am, borrows no 
foreign instruments, and its action pertains wholly to itself. When the 
will takes any resolution, not only has it the consciousness of not being 
constrained by any foreign power, but it has the consciousness of being 
able to take the contrary resolution : it determines itself in one way, 
knowing that it could determine itself another way, knowing even that 
it was able not to determine itself, but to suspend or to adjourn any 
resolution, just as it knows that it can act and manifest itself when it 
does not act nor manifest itself. It is this special characteristic of the 
voluntary action which is liberty. 

Liberty is not to be defined, nor demonstrated ; it is to be felt : it is 
not a power, but the inherent quality of a power, the power which is the 
will. Nor any more is the will to be defined and demonstrated, it is to 
be felt ; it is to be felt in its operation and by its operation. Conscious 
ness does not attain the will as an abstract power, a pure power. If the 
will never came to be a willing, if it never determined itself by some 
particular act, the consciousness would never attain it, nor consequently 
know it, or even conjecture it. But as soon as the will wills, puts forth 
a volition, consciousness attains both the volition and the power which 
put forth the volition : it attains it not by application of the principle of 
causality, but by an immediate apperception. The volition is not an 
effect separated from its cause ; it is its cause itself operating, passing 
into act. The cause and its effect fall both together under the eye of 
consciousness. To pretend that from the volition we infer the cause and 
do not attain it directly, is to pretend that we know the cause which we 
ourselves are, and the power of our will only as we know natural causes 
and external forces ; from whence it would follow that the first cause of 
our volitions might be one not appertaining to ourselves ; for the general 
principle of causality can give in its applications only a general cause. 
If the principle of causality, applied to the internal change called a 
volition, teaches rne only that this volition has a cause, I know very 



358 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

will could still produce the muscular effort, and conse 
quently a sensible fact, even though this fact would not 
pass beyond the limits of the organization. This M. de 
Biran has perfectly established.* He regarded the pheno 
menon of muscular effort as the type of causality, of the 
will and of freedom. But while I readily agree with him, 
in regarding the muscular effort and the consciousness of 
this effort and the sensation which accompanies it, as the 
most eminent and most easily appreciable type of our caus 
ative power, voluntary and free, I say still, that it is only 
an external and derivative type, and not the primitive and 
essential type ; otherwise, M. de Biran would be obliged 
to carry his theory to the extreme of asserting that where 
there is absence or paralysis of the muscles, there can be 
no causation, volition, or active and free phenomenon. 
Now, I maintain the contrary ; I maintain that if the ex 
ternal world be removed, and the muscular and locomo 
tive system taken away ; yet, if there remained to man, 
along with an organization purely nervous, an intelligence 
capable of conceiving motives, of deliberating, of prefer 
ring, and choosing, there would remain to him the power of 
willing, which might still exert itself in special acts, in 
volitions, in which the proper causality and the liberty of 
the will would still manifest itself, although these effects, 
these free volitions, would never pass beyond the internal 
world of the will, and would have no reaction on the or 
ganization through a muscular system, and would produce 
no phenomena of muscular effort phenomena, which with 
out doubt, are internal in reference to the external world, 
but which are themselves external in reference to the will. 

well thereby that my volition has a cause, but I do not know thereby 
what that cause is, it may be neither mine nor yours, it may be a force 
of nature as the materialists hold ; it maybe God, as mysticism dreams 
so many hypotheses that my consciousness breaks down. My conscious- 
ness tells me, with the most certain knowledge, that my willing apper 
tains to myself, that I am the cause of it, and the free cause." TE.] 
* See Chapter IY. 



ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 359 

Thus, suppose I will to move my arm, without being able 
to do it through defect of the muscles ; there is still in this 
fact: 1, the act of willing to move my arm, a special voli 
tion ; 2, the general power of willing, which is the direct 
cause of this volition ; there would, then, in such a case, 
be an effect and a cause ; there would be consciousness of 
this effect and cause, of a causal act, of an internal causa 
tive force, supreme in its own world, in the world of will 
ing ; even though it might be absolutely unable to pass to 
the external action, because the muscular and locomotive 
system was wanting. 

The theory of M. de Biran, then, takes the free act only 
in its external manifestation, in a remarkable fact undoubt 
edly, but which itself implies besides the profound and in 
timate fact of willing with its immediate and proper effect. 
Here in my judgment, is the primitive type of freedom ; 
and this is the conclusion to which this analysis brings 
us an analysis too long perhaps for its place, and too 
brief in itself not to be still very gross.* When, in an 

* Fragmens Philosophiques, preface to the first edition. " It is a fact 
that in the midst of the movements which external agents determine in 
us in spite of ourselves, we have the power of taking the initiative of a 
different movement, first of conceiving of it, then of deliberating 
whether we will peform it, finally, of resolving and going on to the per 
forming of it, of continuing it or suspending it, of finishing it or breaking 
off, and always of having the mastery over it. The fact is certain, and 
it is not less certain that the movement executed under these conditions 
takes in our eyes a new character* : we impute it to ourselves, we -efer 
it as an effect to ourselves whom we then consider as the cause of it. 
Here for us is the origin of the notion of cause, not of a cause in the ab- 
stract) but of a personal cause, to wit, of ourselves. The proper charac 
teristic of the me is causality or the will, since we do not refer to our 
selves and impute to ourselves any thing except that which we ourselves 
cause, and we do not cause any thing except that which we wilL 

It will not do to confound the will or the internal causal ity ; 

which produces at first effects which are internal as their cause is,, with 
the external instruments of this causality, which as instruments seem 
also to produce effects, but without being the true cause of them. When 
T drive one ball against another, it is not the ball which in truth causes 



360 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

action, we are seeking for that which constitutes its freedom, 
we may be deceived in two ways : 

Either it may be sought in what I have called the intel 
lectual element of the action, the knowledge of motives, 
deliberation, preference, choice and then it can not be 
found ; for it is evident that the different motives for or 
against govern the intellect, which is not free to judge this 
or that, and to prefer the one to the other ; men do not 
find liberty in the intellectual part of action ; they decide 
therefore that there is no liberty : undoubtedly it is not 
there, but it may be elsewhere. 

Or liberty may be sought in the physical element of the 
action ; and men do not find it there, at least not con- 

the motion it impresses, for this motion has been itself impressed upon 
it by the muscles which in our organization are at the service of the 
will. Properly speaking these actions are only effects linked one to the 
other, appearing alternately as causes without being truly such, and all 
referable as effects more or less remote to the will as the primary cause. 
Does one look for the primitive notion of cause in the action of the ball 
upon the ball, as was the way of doing before the time of Hume, or of 
the hand upon the ball, or of the primary muscles upon their extremi 
ties, or even in the action of the will upon the muscles, as M. de Biran 
has done ? It can not be found in any of these cases, not even in the 
last ; for it is possible there may be a paralysis of the muscles, rendering 
the will powerless over them, inefficacious, incapable of being the cause 
[of muscular motion,] and consequently of suggesting the notion of a 
cause. But that which no paralysis can hinder is the action of the will 
upon itself, the producing of a resolution, that is to say, a causation al 
together spiritual, the primitive type of causality, of which all the out 
ward actions beginning with the muscular effort and ending with the 
movement of the ball upon the ball are nothing but symbols more or 
less imperfect. The primitive cause for us then is the will, whose first 
effect is a volition. There is the source, at once the highest and the 
purest, of the notion of cause, which is there confounded with that of 
personality. .... The phenomenon of the will presents the following 
momenta : 1. Predetermining to do an act ; 2, deliberating ; 3, resolving. 
If we look closely we shall see that it is the reason which constitutes 
the first entire, and even the second, for it is the reason which delibe 
rates ; but it is not the reason which resolves and determines." 



ELP:MENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 301 

stantly, and they are tempted to conclude that liberty is 
but an accident, which sometimes exists, but three quar 
ters of the time has no existence, and which is dependent 
on physical conditions, either external or internal : they 
see there no token of the proper and fundamental power 
of human nature. 

Now if we wish to refer to their most general causes 
these two sorts of errors, that is, if we wish to consider 
them in reference to scientific method, we may say that 
they consist, the first, in looking for the phenomenon of 
liberty in the antecedent of it, namely, in the intellectual 
fact which always precedes the free act of the will, but 
which does not engender and contain it as the cause en- 

O 

genders and contains the effect ; the second, in looking for 
the phenomenon of liberty, not in the antecedent, but in the 
consequent, so to say, of the phenomenon, in the sensible 
fact which sometimes (but not always) follows willing, but 
which does not include it, except as borrowed from another 
source. This brings us back to the general source of all 
the errors of Locke : the confusion of an idea with that 
which precedes or that which follows it. You have seen 
this in regard to space, to time, the infinite, substance, 
cause, good and evil ; and you may now see it in regard to 
the theory of liberty. 

Locke begins (Book II. Ch. XXI. Of Power, 5) by 
dividing all the phenomena of consciousness, not into three 
classes, but into two, the understanding and the will, a 
division radically false and contrary to facts. Then follows 
a classification of actions : 

" All the actions that we have any idea of, reduce them 
selves to two, namely, thinking and motion." Ibid. 8 
Sometimes in Locke, the will includes both these actions, 
sometimes it applies only to motion. 

" This power which the mind has to order the considera 
tion of any idea or the forbearing to consider it ; or to pre 
fer the motion of any part of the body to its rest, and iv><3 

10 



362 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

versa in any particular instance, is that which wo call tho 
will. The actual exercise of that power, by directing any 
particular action, or its forbearance, is that which we call 
volition or willing." Ibid. 5. 

Here, you perceive, the will is made to apply to acts of 
the understanding as well as the motions of the body. In 
the following passage, on the contrary, it is applied only 
to the latter : 

" Volition, it is plain, is an act of the mind knowingly 
exerting that dominion it takes itself to have over any part 
of the man, by employing it in, or withholding it from, 
any particular action." Ibid. 15. 

The theory of the will, in Locke, appears, then, as fluc 
tuating and inconsistent as the other theories which have 
been exhibited. As to the rest on both hands there is 
equal error. Does Locke seek for the will in the under 
standing ? It is clear he can not find liberty there ; for the 
intelligence is not free, and we do think just as we 
please. Locke is then deceived by confounding a phe 
nomenon with that which precedes it, and does not include 
it. Again : does Locke wish to understand, by will, merely 
the faculty of moving his body ? It is clear likewise that 
he will not find freedom in that faculty ; for, as you know, 
our physical power is limited on all hands, and we have not 
always the control of it with the consciousness of power to 
do the contrary of what we actually do ; and here Locke 
is deceived by confounding the internal phenomenon of 
volition with the external phenomenon of motion which 
sometimes follows the volition, but which is not the voli 
tion itself. This, however, mixed up with many inconsist 
encies, is the predominant theory of Locke, a theory, 
which, like that of M. de Biran, but with less profoundness, 
concentrates the will into one of its applications, visible 
external action. Now if the will is only the power of mo 
tion, it is not always and essentially free. This is tho 
positive conclusion of Locke : 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 363 

Ibid. 14. "Liberty belongs: not to the will. If this 
oe so (as I imagine it is) I leave it to be considered, 
whether it may not help to put an end to that long agi 
tated, and I think unreasonable, because unintelligible 
question, namely : whether marts will be free or no. . . . 
The question itself is altogether improper; and it is as in 
significant to ask whether man s will be free, as to ask, 
whether his sleep be swift, or his virtue square. . . ." 

10. " Our idea of liberty reaches as far as that power 
[of doing and forbearing to do,] and no further. For 
wherever restraint comes in to check that pow r er, or com 
pulsion takes away that indifferency of ability on either 
side to act, or to forbear acting ; there, liberty, and our 
notion of it, presently cease." 

Now, as it is unquestionable that a thousand obstacles 
oppose, or may perpetually oppose, our power of acting, 
evidently here by him meant physical, it follows that there 
is sometimes liberty and sometimes not ; and even when it 
exists, it exists only by the concurrence of external circum 
stances which might have prevented it. To explain liberty 
in this way, is to destroy it. Liberty is not and can not 
oe, neither in the faculty of thinking, nor in that of [out 
ward] action, since they are subject to necessary laws, but 
in the pure power of willing, which is always accompanied 
by the consciousness of the power to will (I do not say 
power to think, or power to act, but power to will) the 
contrary of what it wills. Locke has then destroyed 
liberty by denying it to the will, and seeking for it either 
in the thinking faculty, or in the power of outward motion. 
lie destroys it, and he thinks he has even destroyed the 
question concerning liberty. But the belief of the human 
race protests against the annihilation of liberty, and the 
whole history of philosophy protests against the annihila 
tion of the question concerning it.* 

* [Doctrine concerning the Will and Freedom. In the discussion of 
tho subject olTiberty in tho foregoing- chapter, Cousin presumes the froo 



364 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

I now pass to another point, the theory of the nature of 
the soul. 

You have seen (Ch. III.) that it is impossible to know 

dom of the will, in opposition to the doctrine of philosophical necessity, 
as maintained by many English and American philosophers and theolo 
gians. This is obvious throughout, and particularly from his definition 
of liberty, as referring to "those acts which we perform with the con- 
sciousnes of doing them, and of being able not to do them," at the same 
time. By this, he obviously does not mean to assert and he does not 
think it necessary to say that he does not that this consciousness al 
ways and necessarily accompanies the act of the will at the moment of 
its performance ; because we may sometimes not reflect at all about it. 
But that such a conviction is inseparable from every free act, is apparent 
to every one who will reflect, that is, observe his consciousness. 

It may be doubted whether Cousin has rightly taken up Locke on one 
part of this subject. Though the system of Locke involves the neces 
sarian scheme of the will, and in strict logical consistency results in the 
destruction of freedom ; yet Locke s denial of freedom to the will, can in 
propriety be made only a verbal question : for what he denies to the will, 
he expressly attributes to man. Nothing, therefore, in regard to the 
question concerning liberty and necessity, in the ordinary sense of the 
terms as employed in controversial discussion in this country, can be 
argued from the distinction made by Locke. The proper question is, 
whether that kind of liberty which Locke attributes to man and not to 
his will is necessarianism or self-determination. 

It may be doubted, also, whether the process of voluntary action, as 
described by Cousin, be sufficiently general to include all cases whether, 
in every instance, there is such a process of deliberation, preference, and 
choice, as he describes to be the condition and antecedent of the pure 
act of willing. It may likewise finally be very much doubted whether 
Cousin s analysis on one point is strictly correct whether, namely, in 
his phenomenon of "preference," which he attributes solely to the intel 
ligence, there may not be in many cases an element truly referable to 
the will, to say nothing here of another possible element referable nei 
ther to the intelligence nor to the will, but to the sensibility, to an inter 
nal sentiment accompanying and blending itself with the action of the 
intelligence. Be all this however as it may, it will invalidate neither 
the general conclusion that liberty is to be sought for in the will, and 
not in the sense nor in the intellect, nor his subsequent reasoning ; be 
cause the act of willing, to which liberty will not be denied, if it is allow 
ed or pretended any where, is a necessary element in the complex process 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 305 

any phenomenon of consciousness, the phenomenon of sen 
sation, or of volition, or of intelligence, without instantly 
referring these phenomena to a subject one and identical, 

of action ; whether the limits where necessity ceases and liberty begins, 
be made a little too broad or too narrow ; and of course those who make 
the whole complex process necessary, can not quarrel with the concession 
that a part is so. 

The great question on this subject doubtless is, whether the will, in 
all its particular volitions, is necessarily determined by causes from with 
out : whether the will, in its acts, is subjected to the law of necessity, 
equally with the phenomena of the outward world. This is the only 
question of material importance. If this be not the question, then there 
is nothing in question worth contending about. Those who hold the 
freedom of the will, in opposition to the necessarian scheme, maintain 
that the will is itself the efficient cause of its own volitions ; that it is 
not determined by any necessity ab extra; that is not subjected to the 
mechanism of cause and effect. They hold an essential difference be 
tween Nature and Spirit and that the eminent and most distinguishing 
characteristic of this difference consists precisely in this that the former 
is, and the latter is not, subjected to the law of necessity. They hold 
Freedom and Necessarianism to be incompatible exclusive of each other; 
that the necessarian doctrine destroys the difference in kind, between 
nature and spirit, between freedom and mechanism. They regard free 
dom as the essential attribute and characteristic of the will, and hold 
that the very idea of freedom, both in itself, and as the principle of per 
sonality and the foundation of moral responsibility, excludes any such 
necessary determination as is maintained by the necessarians. They hold 
that the will is a Law to itself, and not subjected to a law out of itself. 
Like other powers, however, conditions of its action are requisite. These 
conditions are what is commonly included in the word motives. Motives 
are the occasion, the condition of volitions, but not the cause of them. 

The whole necessarian scheme is grounded upon the assumption that 
the will is not a law to itself, but is subjected, equally with external 
nature, to a law out of itself. The whole necessarian argument proceeds 
upon the confusion of the conditions of volitions with its cause upon the 
assumption that motives stand to volition in the relation of cause to 
effect; and it involves the old sophism: quod hoc, ergo, propter hoc. Now 
motives may be allowed to be the universal and necessary condition of 
all special determinations of the will, that is, of all particular volitions; 
and yet it woald b} no means therefore follow that those volitions are 



r"""? ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

which is myself, me ; and likewise that we can not know 
the external phenomena of resistance, solidity, figure, 
color, smell, taste, etc., without judging that they are not 

necessarily determined, produced, caused by the motives. Though man 
never acts without motives, it would not necessarily follow that his ac 
tions are caused by motives ; for the motives may be simply the occasion 
and condition of his volitions ; and it would remain to be proved that 
they are any thing more. Unless they do this, necessarians beg the 
Tery thing in question, which is, not whether there is a constant and 
necessary co-presence of motives whenever a particular volition is so and 
no; otherwise, but whether these motives stand in a relation of a cause 
to the volition being so and not otherwise, or only in the relation of a 
condition to the acting of the will, while the will of itself, as an efficient 
power and the principle and cause of its own volitions, determines the 
particular volition so and not otherwise. In an exhausted receiver, a 
guinea and a feather will fall through an equal space in the same time; 
but it would be absurd, in strict language, to call the exhaustion of the 
air the cause of the phenomenon : it is only the occasion, and condition, 
while the cause is gravitation. 

In this view, the celebrated axiom of Edwards, " that the will is as the 
greatest apparent good," if it be taken to mean any thing more (as he 
unquestionably did take it) than that motives are the condition of voli 
tion, is reduced to the flat truism, that the will is as the will is. 

In regafd to the objections brought against the doctrine of liberty, a 
few words may be offered. 

The doctrine is said to involve the position, that men act loitliout motives. 
This objection is already sufficiently disposed of. It is no more a part 
of the doctrine of liberty than of necessity. To pretend that man acts 
or wills without motive or reason, would be a contradiction ; it would 
be to confound the human will with the animal instinct, where, reason 
being wanting, the will is merged in nature, subjected to a necessary 
law, of winch it is an organ, instrument, or manifestation or rather, 
where there is no will, in any proper sense of the word That men act 
from reasons, with a motive, is fully asserted. It may be indeed, that 
there are cases in which the maxim, stat voluntas pro ratione, holds good; 
that is, in the absence of other motives, the will may decide for the sake 
of deciding. If a purse is filled with pieces of gold, and it is offered to 
me upon condition of saying correctly whether the number of pieces be 
qual or unequal, and I say equal, it may be solely because I will to say 
60 ; that is all the reason I can give. It is very much my interest to say 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 367 

phenomena in the air, but phenomena which pertain to 
something real, which is solid, impenetrable, figured, 
colored, etc. On the other hand, if you did not know any 

something ; but no interest may determine me to say equal, rather than 
unequal ; and this very consideration of the absence of motives, may be 
sufficient to constitute the condition, or previous deliberation, required 
in order to the exercise of the free will. The presence of motives is 
rally admitted, as the general condition of volition : it is only denied that 
they are the causes of it. 

It is also objected, that as every event must have a cause, if motives are 
not tJie cause of volitions, we have phenomena without a cause. Not to ad* 
vert here to any higher considerations which might vacate the objec 
tion, it is sufficient to reply that the consequence by no means follows. 
For it may be said the will itself is the cause. The will is a faculty or 
power of willing, limited indeed, and conditioned; but within its limits, 
and when its conditions are supplied, capable of acting, of determining 
itself in a special direction, that is, of originating particular volitions : 
and therefore as truly a cause as God or a physical efficient. The will 
is a general power or faculty of acting, that is, of willing. Volitions are 
special actual exertions of this power, particular actual determinations 
of it. The latter are the effect, the former is their sole principle and 
cause. In this view, Edwards famous reductio ad dbsurdum falls to 
pieces. His argument is, that if a given volition be not determined by 
motives as its cause, it must be without a cause ; or else it must be de 
termined by a previous volition, and that by another, and so on ad in- 
finitum. But deny his inference ; lay your finger upon the given volition, 
or upon any one in the series, and call upon him to prove that the general 
faculty of willing is not a power adequate to the direct production of the 
given volition and his reduction is at an end, at all events, stopped, 
till he fulfill the demand. His whole reduction is nothing but a sheer 
begging of the very thing in question. 

But what, after all, is this pretended denial of causation charged upo*) 
the doctrine of free will ? So entirely the reverse of the fact, is the as 
sumption made in the objection, that without the very freedom which 
necessarians deny, there would be for us no such conception as that of 
causation. It is in the exertion of this free will that the idea of a cause 
is given us. It is precisely because the free agent determines himself, 
and is not determined, that he really produces an effect ; and in the con 
sciousness of this, he finds the primitive idea of cause, as has been so 
largely and clearly shown by Cousin in this volume. 

There is another objection made in the interest of theology, and which 



368 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

of the phenomena of consciousness, you would never ha\ e 
the least idea of the subject of these phenomenon ; and if 
you did not know the external phenomena of resistance, 
figure, color, etc., you would never have any idea of a sub 
ject of these phenomena. These characteristics or attri 
butes, are therefore for you the only signs or tokens of the 
nature of the subjects of these phenomena, whether they 
are phenomena of consciousness, or external phenomena. 
In examining the phenomena which fall under the senses, 
we find important differences between them, which it is 
useless to insist upon here, and which establish the distinc- 

at the present day, attaches many to the doctrine of necessity that the 
doctrine of liberty contradicts divine prescience and certainty in the moral 
government of the world. 

This objection is as old as Cicero, to go no further back, and may be 
well enough presented in his words: "If the will is free, then Fate does 
not rule every thing ; if Fate does not rule every thing, then the order 
of all causes is not certain, and the order of things is no longer certain 
in the prescience of God ; if the order of things is not certain in the pre 
science of God, then things may not take place as he foresees them; and 
if things do not take place as he foresees them, there is in God no fore 
knowledge." St. AUGUSTINE may supply the answer: "Although the 
order of causes be certain to God, it does not follow that nothing de 
pends upon our will ; for our wills themselves are in the order of causes 
which are certain to God, and which he foresees, because men s wills 
are also the causes of their actions ; so that he who has foreseen all 
causes, has also foreseen our wills which are the causes of our actions" 
(De Givitate Dei, V. 9). " If God foresees our will," says the same Avriter 
in another place (De libero arbitrio, lib. iii. c. 3), " as it is certain that 
he foresees it, there will therefore be the will ; and there can not be a 
will if it is not free ; therefore this liberty is foreseen by God. Hence, 
his prescience does not destroy my liberty." The answer is certainly as 
good as the objection. 

In short, as the knowledge which we have of present things, so far 
forth as knowledge, imposes no necessity upon them, although it is cer 
tain that they are taking place as we see them ; so the prescience of 
God, which sees the future as the present, imposes no necessity upon 
future events or actions, although they will certainly take place as he- 
foresaw them. TE.] 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. , 300 

tion of primary and secondary qualities. Among the 
primary qualities, and first in rank, is solidity, which is 
given in the sensation of resistance, and inevitably accom 
panied by that of form, etc. On the contrary, when you 
examine the phenomena of consciousness, you do not find in 
them this characteristic of resistance, of solidity, form, etc. ; 
you do not find that the phenomena of your consciousness 
have figure, solidity, impenetrability, resistance, etc., to say 
nothing of secondary qualities equally foreign to them, color, 
taste, sound, smell. Now, as the subject is for us nothing but 
the aggregate of the phenomena which reveal it to us, to 
gether with its own existence so far forth as the subject of 
the inherence of these qualities; it follows that, under phe 
nomena marked with dissimilar characteristics, and alto 
gether foreign to each other, the human mind conceives their 
subjects dissimilar and of different kind. Thus, as solidity 
and figure have nothing in common with the phenomena 
of sensation, of thought, and of will ; as every solid is for 
us extended and necessarily located by us in space, while 
our thoughts, our volitions, and our sensations, are for us 
unextended and can not be conceived and located in space, 
but only in time ; the human mind concludes with perfect 
strictness that the subject of the external phenomena has 
the character of the former, and that the subject of the 
phenomena of consciousness has the same character with 
the latter, that the one is solid and extended, the other 
neither solid nor extended. In fine, as that which is solid 
and extended is divisible, and as that which is not solid 
nor extended, is indivisible, divisibility is therefore attrib 
uted to the solid and extended subject, and indivisibility is 
attributed to the subject which is not solid, nor extended. 
Who of us, in fact, does not believe himself a being indi 
visible and simple, one and identical, the same yesterday, 
to-day, and to-morrow ? Very good now ! the word 
BODY, the word MATTER, signifies nothing else than the 
subject of those external phenomena, of which the most 

16* 



370 . ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

remarkable are form, impenetrability, extension, solidity 
divisibility. 

The word SPIRIT, the word SOUL, signifies nothing else 
than the subject of those phenomena of consciousness, 
thought, volition, sensation, phenomena simple, unex- 
tended, not solid, etc. See the whole idea of spirit, and 
Uie whole idea of matter. You see, then, the whole of 
what is requisite in order to identify matter with mind, 
or mind with matter ; it is necessary to pretend that sen 
sation, thought, volition, are reducible, in the last analysis, 
to solidity, extension, figure, divisibility, etc. ; or that 
solidity, extension, figure, etc., are reducible to sensation, 
thought, will.* In the view of Spiritualism, there will be 
but one substance, namely, spirit, because there is but one 
single general phenomenon, namely, consciousness. In the 
view of Materialism, there will be but one substance, 
namely, matter, because there is but one single fundament 
al phenomenon, namely, solidity or extension. These are 
the two great systems ; they have each their part of truth 
and their part of error, which it is not my purpose now to 
determine. I wish only to state the fact, that Locke in 
clines more to the one than the other, and that he is almost 
led to derive thought from extension, and consequently to 
make the mind a modification of matter. It is true, Locke 
is far from explaining himself clearly on this point ; but 
he advances the notion that it might not be impossible that 
matter, besides the phenomenon of extension, by a certain 
disposition and arrangement of its particles, might produce 
also the phenomenon of thought. He does not say that 
the soul is material, but that it might very well be so. 

See this important passage, B. IV. Ch. III. 6 : " "We 
have the ideas of matter and of thinking, but possibly shall 
nevei be able to know, whether any mere material being 

* [And according to the starting-point of the reduction and its direc 
tion are the two contrary systematic results of Spiritualism and Ideal 
ism. TR.] 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 37J 

thinks, or no ; it being impossible for us, by the contem 
plation of our own ideas without revelation, to discover, 
whether omnipotency has not given to some systems of 
matter fitly disposed, a power to perceive and think, or 
f-lse joined and fitted to matter so disposed, a thinking 
immaterial substance. . . . What certainty of knowledge 
t-an any one have that some perceptions, such as pleasure 
and pain, should not be in some bodies themselves after a 
certain manner modified, as well as that they should be in 
an immaterial substance, upon the motion of the parts of 
the body ? 

Locke therefore declares, that apart from revelation, and 
within the limits of reason alone, he is not certain that the 
soul may not be material. Now you conceive that if the 
soul is not immaterial, it runs some risk of not being im 
mortal ; for, if the phenomenon of thought and conscious- 
ness are nothing but the result of the combination of 
material particles, extended and divisible, the dissolution 
of this organization may well involve that of thought and 
the soul. Locke replies that this consequence is not to be 
feared ; for, material or not, revelation guarantees the im 
mortality of the soul. "And therefore," says he (Ibid), 
" it is not of such mighty necessity to determine one way 
or the other, as some over-zealous for or against the imma 
teriality of the soul, have been forward to make the world be 
lieve." And when his adversaries insist, when Bishop Still- 
ingfleet objects, that " it takes off very much from the evi 
dence of immortality, to make it depend wholly upon God s 
giving that of which it is not capable in its own nature," 
Locke is ready to cry out upon him as a blasphemer ; " that 
is to say," says he, " it is not as credible upon divine revela 
tion, that a material substance should be immortal, as an 
immaterial ; or which is all one, God is not equally to be 
believed when he declared it, because the immortality of a 
material substance can not be demonstrated from natural 
reason." Again : " Any one s not being able to demon- 



. J72 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

strate the soul to be immortal, takes not off from the evi 
dence of its immortality, if God has revealed it ; because 
the veracity of God is a demonstration of the truth of 
what he has revealed, and the want of another demonstra 
tion of a proposition, that is demonstratively true, takes not 
off from the evidence of it." And he goes so far as to say 
that his system is the only Christian system. Certainly I 
believe no such thing: but without descending to this 
ground, which is not ours, notice the consequence involved 
in such a system. If the immateriality of the soul is very 
doubtful and indifferent, and if the immortality of the soul, 
in itself equally doubtful as its immateriality, is grounded 
solely upon the promise of God, who is to be believed 
upon his word, that is, the Christian revelation ; it follows 
that whoever has not the happiness to be enlightened, as 
Locke was, by the rays of Christian revelation, ajid who 
has no other resource than that of his own reason, can 
legitimately believe neither in the immateriality nor the im 
mortality of the soul; and this is to condemn the entire hu 
man race to materialism, previous to Christianity, and 
more than half of humanity, since then. But facts repel 
this sad consequence ; facts attest that reason, so feeble ac 
cording to Locke, has sufficed to establish, and still suffices 
to establish among mankind, the twofold conviction of the 
immateriality and immortality of the soul. The universal 
and perpetual revelation of Reason (tlie light of the WOKD 
which Ughteth every man that cometh into the world), more 
or less vivid, more or less pure, has every where preceded, 
prepared for, or supplied the place of that [special revela 
tion] which in the designs of Providence, and in the prog 
ress of humanity, has come to establish, extend, and com 
plete the former. Finally, I wish you to notice that it is 
the father of the Sensual school of the eighteenth, century, 
who here announces himself in opposition to reason, and 
substitutes theology in place of philosophy, and, as to the 
rest, with perfect loyalty, for he firmly believed in rev^la- 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 373 

tion and ii Christianity. Hereafter* we shall see what be 
came of these two great truths in the hands of the successors 
of Locke, who, after his example, declare reason in re 
spect to these subjects feeble and incompetent, and like him 
refer them to faith, to revelation, to theology, some believ 
ing and some disbelieving the authority they invoke. 

I have proved, I believe, that Locke, in seeking for 
liberty where it could not be found, in the power of motion, 
has, in the midst of many contradictions, put philosophy 
upon the route to fatalism. I have shown likewise that, 
without affirming the soul to be material and perishable, he 
at least says that revelation alone can give us any certainty 
of it ; and he has put philosophy upon the road to materi 
alism. Now I am happy to declare that Locke has not the 
least in the world put philosophy upon the road to atheism. 
Locke, not only as a Christian, but as a philosopher, admits 
and proclaims the existence of God, and has given excel 
lent natural proofs of it ; but it is important to put you 
fully in possession of the particular character of these 
proofs, which are likewise in keeping with the general sys 
tem of Locke. 

There are various proofs of the existence of God. The 
gratifying result of my studies in this respect, is, that these 
various proofs have different degrees of strictness in their 
form, but that they all have a foundation of truth, which 
needs simply to be disengaged and put in clear light in or 
der to give them an incontrovertible authority. Every 
thing leads us to God ; there is no bad way of arriving 
thither ; we may go in different ways. In general, all the 
proofs of every sort of the existence of God, are compre- 

* [Alluding to future lectures which it was the intention of Cousin to 
give, designed to exhibit the history and progress of the Sensual school, 
with a critical examination of the principal successors of Locke, and 
which are now contained in the First Series of the lectures on the His 
tory of Modern Philosophy. TR.] 



874 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

nencled under two great classes, namely : proofs d posteriori^ 
and proofs a priori. Either I give myself, aided by my 
senses and consciousness, to the observation and study of 
the external world and of my own existence ; and simply 
by a knowledge, more or less profound and extended, of 
nature and myself, after sufficient observations, and induc 
tions founded upon them, I arrive at the knowledge of 
God, who made man and nature. This is called the demon 
stration d posteriori, of the existence of God. Or, I may 
neglect the external world, and fall back upon myself, in 
the entirely interior world of consciousness ; and even 
there, without engaging in the study of its numerous phe 
nomena, I may derive at once from reason an idea, a single 
idea, which, without the aid of experience, in the hands of 
that same reason, becomes the basis of a demonstration of 
the existence of God. This is called the demonstration 
d priori. 

Look for example, at the most celebrated proof d priori, 
and which includes nearly all the others of this kind. 
When we fall back upon ourselves, the first glance which 
we bestow upon the phenomena of consciousness discovers 
to us this striking characteristic, that they begin, and in 
termit, renew themselves, and cease, have their different 
degrees of intensity and energy ; in a word they attest in 
us something imperfect, limited, finite. Now this charac 
teristic of finite can not, as we have seen (Ch. III.) be 
given us, without the reason entering into exercise, and 
passing instantly this judgment : that there is something 
infinite, if there is any thing finite. If you did not know 
the external world, yet consciousness would suffice to give 
you the idea of the finite, and consequently the reason 
would have a sufficient basis for suggesting to you the idea 
of the infinite. The idea of the infinite opposed to the 
idea of the finite, is nothing less than the idea of perfection 
opposed to the idea of imperfection. What in fact is con 
sciousness for us, but the sentiment of our imperfection and 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 375 

our weakness? I do not dispose of my sensations; they 
come &\id go at their will ; they appear and disappear, often 
without, my being able to retain or repel them. Nor do I 
control my judgments; they are subject to laws I have 
never made. I have the direction of my will, it is true, 
but frequently it results only in internal acts, without 
being able to pass into external and visible actions ; arid 
sleep, and lethargy, and delirium, suspend it. On every 
hand, thu finite and imperfect appear in me. But I can 
not have the idea of the finite and imperfect without 
having the idea of the perfect and infinite. These two 
ideas are logical correlatives ; and in the order of their ac 
quisition, that of finite and imperfect precedes the other, 
but it scarcely precedes it. It is not possible for the 
reason, as soon as consciousness furnishes the mind with 
the idea of the finite and imperfect, not to conceive the 
idea of the infinite and perfect. 

Now, the infinite and the perfect, is GOD himself. It is 
enough therefore for you to have the idea of the imperfect 
and finite, in order to have the idea of the perfect and the 
infinite, that is to say, of God, whether you do or do not 
call him by that name, whether you know how to express 
in words the spontaneous convictions of your intelligence, 
or whether, through defect of language and analysis, they 
remain obscure and indistinct in the depths of your soul. 
Once more, then, I say : do not go to consult the savage, 
the child, or the idiot, to know whether they have the idea 
of God ; ask them, or rather, without asking them any 
thing, ascertain if they have the idea of the imperfect and 
the finite ; and if they have it (and they can not but have 
it if they have the least perception) be sure that they have 
an obscure and confused idea of something infinite and 
perfect ; be sure that what they discern of themselves and 
of the world, does not suffice them, and that they at once 
humble and exalt themselves in a deep felt faith in the ex 
istence of something infinite and perfect, that is to say, of 






376 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

God. The word may be wanting among them, because 
the idea is not yet clear and distinct ; but no less does it 
exist within the folds of the opening intelligence, and the 
philosophic observer easily discovers it there. 

The infinite and the perfect are given you along with the 
imperfect and the finite ; and the finite and the imperfect 
are given you immediately by your consciousness, as soon 
as there are under the eye of consciousness any phenomena. 
The idea of the finite and imperfect, being, then, primitive, 
the correlative idea of the infinite and perfect, and conse 
quently, of God, is also primitive. 

The idea of God is a primitive idea ; but from whence 
comes this idea ? Is it a creature of your imagination, an 
illusion, a chimera ? You can imagine a gorgon, a centaur, 
and you can imagine them not to exist ; but is it in your 
power, when the finite and the imperfect are given, to con 
ceive or not to conceive, the infinite and perfect ? No : the 
one being given, the other is also necessarily given. It is 
not then a chimera ; it is the necessary product of reason ; 
therefore it is a legitimate product. Either, you must re 
nounce your reason ; and then we will talk no more neither 
of reason, nor of truth, nor of knowledge, nor of philoso 
phy ; or, you must admit the authority of reason, and admit 
it in regard to this subject, as well as in regard to other 
subjects * 

Such, nearly, is the celebrated demonstration a priori, 

* [This argument is not unfolded with the usual fullness of Cousin. 
The point of the argument is, that as in the human consciousness, there 
is, for the understanding, the notion of finite and imperfect existence, 
accompanied by an invincible conviction of a reality corresponding ; so 
likewise, there is in human consciousness, for the reason, the idea of an 
infinite and perfect being, of God, accompanied likewise with an invinc 
ible conviction of a reality corresponding to the idea ; and that the hu 
man mind is as necessarily determined to a belief in the latter as in the 
former that is to say, if we determine that the necessary action of our 
faculties is a trustworthy ground of belief in ono case, we must admit 
it to be so in the other. Tu.] 



ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 377 

of the existence of God, that is, independently of experi 
ence. Now look at the proof a posteriori a few words will 
be enough to put you in possession of it ; it explains itself. 

This proof consists in arriving at God solely by an in 
duction founded on observation more or less extended. 
Instead of closing your senses, and opening only your 
consciousness, you open your senses, and close up more or 
less your consciousness, in order to survey every where 
nature and the vast world which surrounds you ; and by a 
contemplation, more or less profound, by studies, more or 
less intelligent, you become penetrated with the beauty, 
the order, the intelligence, the skill, the perfection diffused 
through the universe : and as the cause must, at least, be 
equal to the effect, you reason from Nature to its Author ; 
from the existence and perfection of the one, you conclude 
the existence and perfection of the other. 

These two proofs, I repeat, are good ; and instead of 
choosing between them, we ought to do as the human 
mind does, employ them both. In fact, they are so little 
exclusive of each other, that they each contain something 
of the other. The argument d priori, for example, sup 
poses an element d posteriori, a datum of observation and 
experience, for, although the idea of the infinite, of the per 
fect, of unity, of the absolute, conducts directly to God, 
and although this idea is given by reason and not by ex 
perience, yet it is not given independently of all experi 
ence, [is not given without experience as its occasion and 
condition,] since reason would never give us this idea with 
out the simultaneous or anterior idea of the finite, the im 
perfect, which is derived from experience; only hi this 
case, the experimental datum is borrowed from the con 
sciousness, and not from the senses ; though it is still true, 
that every phenomenon of consciousness supposes a sensi 
tive phenomenon, simultaneous or anterior. An element 
d posteriori intervenes, then, as the condition of the de 
monstration d priori. 



378 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

So likewise, a little reflection shows that the proof from 
experience a posteriori implies an element purely rational 
and a priori. In fact, on what condition do you conclude 
from nature to God ? On condition that you admit, or at 
least, that you employ the principle of causality ; for if you 
are destitute of this principle, you might contemplate and 
study the world forever, you might forever admire the 
order and wisdom which reign there, without ever rising 
to the supposition that all this is only an effect, that it all 
must have a cause. Take away the principle of causality, 
and there are for us no longer any causes, there would no 
onger be neither the need nor the possibility of seeking for 
them, nor of finding them, and induction would no longer 
go from the world to God. Now, the principle of causality 
has indeed an experimental condition ; but it is not itself 
derived from experience ; it supposes experience, and it is 
applied to experience, but it governs it and decides upon 
it. It properly belongs to the reason. (See Ch. IV.) 
See then in turn an element a priori, in the proof a pos 
teriori. Further : this world is full of harmony ; I believe 
it ; and the more we look at it, especially if we place our 
selves in a certain point of view which observation may 
indeed confirm, but which it does not give, the more we 
are struck with the order of the world ; but we can also, 
by consulting only the senses, find appearances of disorder ; 
we can not comprehend the reason of volcanoes which 
overwhelm flourishing cities, of earthquakes and tempests, 
and the like ; in a word, observation employed alone, and 
not directed by a superior principle, may easily find dis 
order and evil in the world. Now, if to this deceptive ex 
perience, you connect the rational principle, that every 
thing which is true of the effect is true of the cause, you 
will be forced to admit in the cause what there is in the 
effect, that is to say, not only intelligence, wisdom, and 
power, but also degrading imperfections, as has indeed 
been done by more than one distinguished mind, when 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 379 

under the exclusive direction of experience, and by more 
than one people in the infancy of humanity. In fine, so 
many diverse effects, of which experience does not always 
show the connection, might easily conduct not to God as 
one sole cause, but to divers causes, and to a plurality of 
gods ; and history is at hand to justify this apprehension. 
You see then clearly, that the proof a posteriori, which, in 
the first place, essentially requires the rational principle of 
causality, has need also of other principles still to direct the 
application of causality to experience principles, which, in 
order to govern experience, should not come from it, but 
must come from reason. The argument a posteriori, sup 
poses, then, more than one element a priori. Thus com 
pleted, it has its use and excellence, as well as the argument 
a priori, when well regulated and recalled to its true prin 
ciples. 

These two arguments are not in themselves exclusive of 
each other ; but one or the other is more striking, accord 
ing to the turn of mind and moral and religious condition 
of individuals and nations. The Christian religion, rational 
and idealistic, which takes its grounds in the mind, and not 
in the senses, employs chiefly proofs a priori. Neglecting 
Nature, or regarding it under an idealistic point of view, 
it is in the depths of the soul, by Reason and the WOKD, 
that it rises to God. The argument a priori is eminently 
the Christian argument. It belongs particularly to the 
reign of Christianity, to the middle age, to the Scholastic 
philosophy which represents it ; from thence it passed into 
the great modern Spiritualistic school, that of Descartes,* 

* DESCARTES believed that he had invented it : but he undoubtedly 
owed it to the Scholastic philosophy and to St. Anselm. [St. Anselm 
was born in 1034 and died in 1109. One of his most important Avorka 
is his Monologium, sen Exemplum meditandi de Rationi Fidei. His meth 
od ill this work consists in deducing all theological truths from a single 
point the being of God. The diversity and plurality of the Beautiful, 
the Sublime, the Good, the True, involve the supposition of an idoal 



380 ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 

where it was brilliantly unfolded for half a century by 
Malebranche, Fenelon, Bossuet, Leibnitz. On the con- 
trary, the religions of the first age of humanity, which are 
not yet religious " in spirit and in truth," and which are 
almost solely founded upon the senses and appearance, 
employ the proof a posteriori; and while spiritualistic 
religions tend a little too much to the separation of God 
from nature, because the proof upon which it rests sepa 
rates reason and consciousness too much from the senses 
and from experience ; so, in their turn, the religions of na- 

ONE, a UNITY which is the ESSENCE of all Beauty, Goodness, and Truth. 
It must exist, for it is this which is the necessary form of every thing 
which exists. This unity is anterior to the plurality, and is its root. 
Est ergo, aliquid unum, quod sive essentia, sive natura sive substantia, 
dicitur, optimum et maximum est et summum omnium quce sunt. This 
unity is God ; from hence St. Anselm deduces the whole system of 
theology. 

Another work of his is entitled Prosologium sen Fides qucerens intel- 
lectum. The name of St. Anselm is attached to an argument which 
deduces the demonstration of the existence of God, solely from the idea 
of God an argument which has experienced many changes of fortune. 
It was greatly derided in the eighteenth century, but in the seventeenth 
it was regarded as invincible. The Prosologium consists of twenty-six 
short chapters, and has for its motto the passage of Scripture : the fool 
hath said in his heart, there is no God. The argument is this : the most 
hardened atheist has in his mind the idea of a Highest Good, beyond 
which he can conceive no other. Now this supreme good can not exist 
merely in the mind, for a still greater would be conceivable ; it there 
fore must exist out of the human mind : therefore God exists. "Without 
quoting St. Anselm, or the Prosologium, with which he was perhaps 
unacquainted, Descartes has produced this argument in his Meditations. 
Leibnitz has also brought forward the same argument under a form at 
once the most simple and precise. He refers the honor of it to St. Anselm. 
See Cousin s Gours de VHistoire de la Philosophie, tome I. 

It is needless to remark here upon the value of the argument in the 
form in which it is expressed by St. Anselm. It obviously assumes the 
point in question ; it proves nothing except hypothetically, that is to say, 
if there exist a REALITY corresponding to the IDEA in the human mind, 
that reality must exist out of the human mind. TE.] 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 081 

ture make God in the image of nature, and reflect all the 
imperfections of the argument a posteriori ; they are apt 
to put into the cause whatever is in the effect ; and as na 
ture presents very diverse phenomena, whose harmony is 
often scarcely seen, the religions of nature are polytheistic, 
physical, astronomical, anthropomorphic. As the Christian 
religion produces chiefly an idealistic philosophy, so the 
philosophy which proceeds from the religions of nature is 
a sensualistic philosophy whose theodicy most affects the 
proofs a posteriori; and accordingly one of two things 
results : cither the sensualistic theology accepts the rational 
a priori principle of causality, contrary to the spirit of the 
philosophical school to which that theology pertains, and 
thus arrives at God by an inconsistency : or, it rejects the 
principle of causality, and then it does not and can not ar 
rive at God at all ; and moreover, as Sensualism confounds 
substance with the aggregate of qualities (see Ch. III.), so 
here it recognizes no other God than the aggregate of the 
phenomena of Nature, the assemblage of things in the 
universe. From hence, pantheism, the necessary theology 
of paganism, and of the Sensual philosophy. Let us apply 
all this to Locke. 

Locke believes in the existence of God, and he has 
given an excellent demonstration of it. But he comes from 
the Sensual school, he therefore repels arguments a priori 
and admits scarcely any thing but arguments a posteriori. 
lie does not wish to employ the argument of Descartes,, 
which proves the existence of God from the idea of him, 
from the idea of infinity and perfection. B. IV. Ch. X. 7 : 
" This I think, I may say, that it is an ill way of estab 
lishing this truth, and silencing Atheists, to lay the whole 
stress of so important a point as this, upon that sole foun 
dation ; and take some men s having that idea of God in 
their minds (for it is evident that some men have none, 
and some men worse than none, and the most very differ 
ent) for the only proof of a Deity ; and out of an over. 



382 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

fondness of that darling invention, cashier, or at least en 
deavor to invalidate all other arguments, and forbid us to 
hearken to these proofs, as being weak or fallacious, which 
our own existence and the sensible parts of the universe 
offer so cogently to our thoughts, that I deem it impossi 
ble for a considering man to withstand them. For I judge 
it as certain and clear a truth as can any where be delivered 
that the invisible things of God are clearly seen from the 
creation of the world, being understood by the things that 
are made, even his eternal power and Godhead. " He 
then goes on more particularly to develop this kind of 
proofs. If Locke had wished simply to establish that the 
argument a priori is not the only valid argument, and that 
the proof a posteriori is not to be slighted, I would very 
willingly join with him ; but he goes much further, and 
strays into assertions which I can not too strongly repel. 
I deny that there are persons who have no idea of God ; 
and here the Cartesian philosophy and all ideal philosophy 
comes well in, and proves beyond reply, that the idea of 
God, being at the bottom, that of the infinite, of perfec 
tion, of unity, of absolute existence, can not but be found 
in every man whose reason is at all developed. I deny also 
the sentiment which Locke unfortunately but naturally has 
lent to Bayle sensualism to skepticism that some men 
have such an idea of God that they had better have none 
at all. I deny that it is better to have no idea of God than 
to have an imperfect idea ; as if we were not imperfect be 
ings, subjected to blend the false with the true. If we 
will have nothing but unmixed truth, very little belief 
would be left to humanity, and very few theories to science. 
The man must be a stranger to the history of philosophy, 
who would reject the truth because it should be blended 
with some errors, or even with many errors. I remark, 
finally, that even in developing his preference for the argu 
ment a posteriori, Locke employs frequently, and without 
hesitation, arguments a priori, ideal, and even somewhat 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 383 

scholastic : 8. " Something must be from eternity." 3. 
" Nothing can produce a being, therefore something eter 
nal." Although he especially seeks God in the external 
world, he also ( 2 and 3), with Descartes, goes from man 
to God. He nowhere accepts and unfolds, but every 
where employs the principle of causality, without which, 
indeed, he could never take a single step beyond nature 
and man. As to the rest, the sole conclusion, which I wish 
to deduce from these observations, is that the theology of 
Locke, in repelling the argument a priori, and in employ 
ing in preierence the argument a posteriori still retains 
and manifests the fundamental characteristic of the philos 
ophy of Locke, which grounds itself specially, and often 
even exclusively, upon sensible and external experience. 

Here ends this long analysis of the Essay on the Human 
Understanding. It only remains to generalize and recapit 
ulate the partial results we have obtained. 

1. Considered in the most important point of view, that 
Df Method, the Essay on the Human Understanding lias 
this excellence, that psychology is given as the basis of all 
sound philosophy. Locke commences by the study of man, 
of his faculties, and of the phenomena observable in con 
sciousness. Thereby he attaches himself to the great 
Cartesian movement and to the genius of modern philoso 
phy. This is the good side of the method of Locke. The 
bad side is, that instead of observing man, his faculties and 
the phenomena which result from the development of his 
faculties, in their present state, and with the characteristics 
which these phenomena actually present, he buries himself 
at once in the obscure and perilous question concerning 
the primitive state of these phenomena, the first develop 
ments of the faculties, the origin of ideas. 

2. This vice of method the question concerning the 
origin of ideas, which ought to come after that of their 
actual characteristics, being prematurely taken up, without 



384 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

a sufficient knowledge of the facts to be explained throws 
Locke into a system which sees no other origin to all knowl 
edge and all ideas, than sensation and reflection. 

3. And again, it is to be recollected that Locke does not 
hold the balance true between these two origins, and that 
lie lets it incline in favor of sensation. 

4. This position being taken, to derive all ideas from 
sensation and from reflection, and prticularly from sen 
sation, imposes upon Locke the necessity of confounding 
certain ideas with certain others, for example, the seven 
following ideas : the idea of space, of time, of the infinite, 
of personal identity, of substance, of cause, of good and 
evil ideas which, as we have demonstrated, can not come 
into the human mind from sensation, nor from reflection. 
Locke is therefore forced to confound them with the ideas 
of body, of succession, of the finite or number, of conscious 
ness, of the aggregate of qualities, the succession of phe 
nomena, of reward and punishment, or pleasure and pain ; 
which are in fact explicable by sensation or by reflection ; 
that is to say, he is forced to confound either the ante 
cedents or the consequents of the ideas of space, time, 
infinity, substance, cause, good and evil, with the ideas 
themselves. 

5. This is the most general vice which governs the 
philosophy of Locke ; and this vice fully displays itself in 
the theory of knowledge and judgment. Locke founds 
knowledge and judgment upon the perception of a relation 
between two ideas, that is to say, upon comparison ; while 
in many cases these relations and the ideas of relation, so 
far from being the foundation of our judgments and of our 
cognitions, are, on the contrary, the results of primitive 
cognitions and judgments referable to the natural power 
of the mind, which judges and knows in its own proper 
virtue, basing itself frequently upon a single term, and con 
sequently without comparing two together in order to 
deduce the ideas of relation. 



ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 385 

6. The same is true in regard to the theory of language. 
Locke attributes very much to language ; and with reason. 
But we are not to believe that every dispute ie a dispute 
about words, every error an error purely verbal, every 
general idea the sole product of language, and that a 
science is nothing but a language well framed ; we are 
not, I say, to believe all this merely because that words 
really play a great part in our disputes and errors, because 
there are no general ideas without language, and because 
a language well framed is the condition, or the consequence 
rather, of a true science. 

7. In fine, in regard to the great theories, by which all 
philosophies in their last result, are judged, the theories of 
God, of the soul, and of liberty ; you see Locke confound 
ing the will with the power of moving, as he expresses it, 
with the power of producing external action, and seeking 
for freedom in the will thus extended, and consequently 
seeking it where it is not. You see him, yielding to the 
prejudices of empiricism, expressing a doubt whether 
thought may not be only a mode of matter, just as exten 
sion is. You see him, finally, in theology, always faithful 
to the spirit of his system, depending more upon the senses 
than upon consciousness, interrogating nature rather than 
reason, repelling the proof a priori of Descartes, and ad 
mitting only the proof d posteriori. 

Such is my definitive judgment on the work of Locke. 
If I have devoted the greatest part of the lectures of this 
season to the examination of this single work, I trust it 
will meet your approbation, when the importance of th 
work and of every thing of which it is a summary and 
preparation, is considered. The Essay on the Human Un 
derstanding sums up for the eighteenth century nearly 
all the sensualistic tradition in which it had an interest, that 
is to say, that of the seventeenth century. In general modern 
philosophy, and I except no school, is, to say the least, care- 

17 



386 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

less of the past. It thinks only of the future ; it is ac 
quainted only with its own most immediate history. As 
the spiritualistic school of the eighteenth century ascends 
no further than Descartes, so the sensual school scarcely 
goes back further than Locke. It boasts much of Bacon ; 
but its official point of departure is Locke. It is Locke 
who is always cited and imitated and developed. And 
in fact, now that you are thoroughly acquainted with 
the Essay on the Human Understanding, as a whole, and 
in its details, you must see that it really contains the most 
marked traits of all the great anterior sensual theories, 
whether of modern philosophy, or of Greece, or of the 
East.* 

The essential characteristic of sensualism, as we have 
seen, is the denial of all the great truths which escape the 
senses, and which reason alone discovers, the denial of in 
finite time and space, of good and evil, of human liberty, 
of the immateriality of the soul, and of Divine Providence ; 
and according to the times, or the greater or less zeal of 
its partisans, it openly announces these results, or vails 
them by the distinction, often sincere, and oftentimes pre 
tended, between philosophy and religion. This is the sole 
difference which, in the seventeenth century, separates 
Gassendi, the Catholic priest, from Hobbes, the enemy of 
the Church. At the bottom their system is the same ; they 
give an almost exclusive share to sensation in knowledge ; 
they nearly maintain that all being is material (substantia 
nobis datur sub ratione materice} / in spiritual beliefs they 
see nothing but metaphors ; and, beyond the senses, they 
attribute every thing to signs and to language : after all this, 
Gassendi invokes revelation, and Hobbes invokes it not. 
In the sixteenth century, the appeal to revelation was indis- 

* [Reference is here had to a rapid view of the history of philosophy 
down to the time of Locke, exhibited in the preceding portion of the 
course of Lectures, of which this work is a part. Some account of them 
has been given in the Introduction. TR.] 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 387 

pensable ; it characterizes, and it hardly save the Peripatetic 
sensualism of Pomponatius and his school. Previous to 
that time, during the absolute reign of Christianity, this 
precaution was still more necessary ; it hardly protected the 
involved Sensualism and the avowed Nominalism of Occam, 
the denial of all absolute truth in itself, of right and 
wrong, the beautiful and ugly, the true and false, in so far 
as founded in the nature of things, and their explanation 
by the sole will and arbitrary power of God. Now, all 
these traits of sensualism, manifest or concealed, of the 
middle age, and of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, 
are reproduced in Locke. Who can not see, likewise, in 
the bosom of paganism, the precursors of Gassendi and 
Hobbes, and consequently of Locke, in Epicurus, in Strato, 
n Democritus and in the Ionian school ? In fine, in cer 
tain Oriental systems, and particularly the Sankhyra of 
Kapila,* in the midst of inconsistencies apparent or real, 
and of mysticism true or false, similar, perhaps, to much 
of the modern invocation of revelation, who does not trace 
the lineaments of that theory which, advancing from age 
to age, and sharing in all the progress of humanity, came, 
toward the commencement of the eighteenth century, to 

* [See Cousin s Cours de VHistoire de la Philosophic, Vol. I. 5. The 
sources from which Cousin principally drew, are the Memoirs of Cole- 
brooke, published in the Transactions of the London Asiatic Society, 
from 1824 to 1827. The Sankhyra is an oriental system, embracing 
physics, psychology, dialectics and metaphysics in short, a complete 
philosophy. The meaning of Sankhyra is Aoyof, reason. Its author is 
Kapila. It is a system of Sensualism; starting from Sensation as the 
principle of knowledge, and applying induction only to its phenomena, 
it results in materialism. Denying also the idea of cause, it comes out 
to fatalism and to atheism. Nor is this latter consequence disguised. 
Kapila denies the existence of a personal God and of Providence, on 
the ground, that not being perceivable by the senses, nor deducible from 
sensation by induction, there is no legitimate ground for these truths. 
Intelligence is admitted ; but only as an attribute of matter, and the God 
of Kapila is a sort of anima mundi, or soul of the world. TR.] 



388 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

receive its expression, not indeed full and decisive, but al 
ready elevated and truly scientific expression, in the Essay 
on the Human Understanding f 

And not only does the Essay on the Human Understand 
ing include and sum up the past, but it also contained the 
future. All those theories, the discussion of which has so 
long occupied us, and which, as they appear in Locke, may 
have perplexed you by their equivocal character, will be 
seen, as we proceed,* in less than half a century, to become 
enlarged, extended, and regularly unfolded by the hardy 
successors of Locke, into firm and precise theories, which 
will obtain, in more than one great country of Europe, an 
almost absolute authority, and be there regarded as the 
last expression of the human mind. Thus the theory of 
Locke concerning freedom tended to fatalism ; this theory 
will come forth fully developed. Locke seems not to have 
had much dread of materialism; his disciples will admit 
and proclaim it. Soon, the principle of causality, being no 
longer merely overlooked and neglected, but repelled and 
destroyed, the argument a posteriori for the existence of 
God, will lose its basis, and the sincere theism of Locke s 
indecisive sensualism, will end in avowed pantheism, that 
is to say, in atheism. The two sources of knowledge, sen 
sation and reflection, will be resolved into one ; reflection 
will be merged in sensation ; there will remain only sensa 
tion to explain the whole human mind. Signs, whose in 
fluence Locke had already exaggerated, will become next 
after sensation, the source of all ideas. In a word, you 
may expect hereafter to see, how important it was for us 
to throw at the outset a strong and abundant light upon 
all those questions and theories, which gradually rising up, 
will become the battle-ground of our future discussions. It 

* In default of the lectures here promised, consult Tol. III. of the 

First Series, where the school of sensation is presented in all its great 
metaphysical, moral and political aspects, in the persons of Locke, Con- 
, Helvetius, St. Lambert and Ilobbes. 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 389 

was necessary to reconnoiter beforehand, and familiarize you 
with the field, on which we shall have so often to engage. 

I have [in former discussions] divided the schools of the 
eighteenth century into four fundamental schools, which 
have appeared to me to contain them all. I have loved to 
tell you, that each of these schools has existed ; therefore 
there was some ground for its existence. If these schools 
had been entirely absurd and extravagant they could not 
have existed. For total absurdity alone could not have 
found either place or credit in the human mind, could not 
have gained so much luster, nor have acquired so much 
authority, in any age, still less in an age so much enlight 
ened as the eighteenth century. Thus, from the simple 
fact, that the Sensual school has existed, it follows that 
it had reason for its existence, that it possesses some 
element of truth. But there are four schools, and not 
merely one. Now, absolute truth is one ; if one of 
these schools contained absolute truth, there would be 
but one school and not four. But they are ; therefore 
there is reason for their being, and they contain truth ; 
but at the same time there are four; therefore neither 
the one nor the other contains the whole truth entire, 
and each of them, with an element of truth which has 
caused it to exist, contains some element of error which 
reduces it, after all, to exist only as a particular school. 
And bear in mind that error, in the hands of systematic 
genius, easily becomes extravagance. It was my duty, 
then, to absolve and at the same time to combat all the 
schools ; and consequently that great school which is caUed 
the sensual school, the school of sensation, from the name 
of the principle on which it solely rests. I was to absolve 
the school of sensation, as having had its part of tr,uth ; and 
I was to combat it, as having blended with the part of 
truth, which recommends it, many errors and extrava 
gances. And in wi.at way, was I to combat the school of 



300 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

sensation ? I promised you to combat the errors of one 
school, by all the truth there was in the opposite school. 
I was, then, to combat the exaggerations of sensualism, 
with what there is of sound and reasonable in idealism. 
This I have done. Perhaps there is something of my own, 
if I may be permitted to say it, in the development of these 
arguments, and in the conduct of the discussion, and above 
all in its general spirit, and in some sort, its moral spirit ; 
but the arguments in themselves pertain for the most part 
to the spiritualistic school in its most reasonable, that is to 
say its negative side, which is always the soundest part of 
every school. At a future day, I shall take up the spirit 
ualistic school ; I shall examine it in its positive elements, 
and there I shall turn against it, against its sublime errors 
and its mystical tendencies, the solid arms which the good 
sense of empiricism and of skepticism will frequently fur 
nish. In the mean time, it is with the dialectics of spirit 
ualism that I have combated the extravagances of the 
empirical school, as they appear in Locke, the representa 
tive of that school in the eighteenth century. It is not, 
however, ancient idealism which I have invoked against 
modern empiricism ; for the one does not answer to the 
other ; ancient philosophy, and modern philosophy do not 
serve each other and enlighten each other, except on the 
highest summits of science, and for a very small number 
of the elect thinkers. It is therefore modern spiritualism 
which I have used against modern empiricism ; I have em 
ployed against it in the eighteenth century, the arms which 
the eighteenth century itself furnished. Thus I have op 
posed to Locke the great men who followed him, and who 
were to modify and combat, in order to pass beyond him, 
ind lead onward the march of science. It is not therefore 
3ven from Leibnitz, already too far back, but from Reid 
and Kant, that I have borrowed arguments. But I have 
had almost always to change the form of them ; for their 
form savors a little of the country of those two great 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 891 

men. Both express themselves, as men talk at Edin 
burgh and at Konigsburg ; which is not the way in which 
men express themselves in France. I have therefore neg 
lected uhe phraseology of Reid, and particularly of Kant ; 
but I have preserved the substance of their arguments. 
You are not acquainted with Kant ; one day I shall en 
deavor to make you acquainted with that mind, so firm and 
so elevated the Descartes of the age.* But the works of 
the judicious Reid are accessible to you, with the admira 
ble commentary of Royer-Collard.f The Scotch philosophy 
[of Reid and Stewart] will prepare you for the German 
philosophy. It is to Reid and Kant I refer in great part 
the controversy I have carried on against empiricism as rep 
resented in the person of Locke. 

I was bound to be just also toward the empirical school, 
even while combatting it ; I was bound to take up its part 
of truth as well as of error, for the one was there as well 
as the other. Have I not also done this ? Have I not rec 
ognized and signalized every thing good in different parts 
of the Essay on the Understanding ? Have I not care 
fully brought out the happy commencement of Locke s 
method, and of his theories, before attacking the errors 
into which the spirit of system threw him ? Finally, have 
I not rendered full homage to Locke as a man and a phi 
losopher ? I have done this, and with all my heart ; and 
on this point at least, I am sure I am undeserving of re 
proach either from Locke, or from myself, or from philoso- 

* The First Series of my Course was not then published. [So says 
Cousin in the last edition of this work. The series referred to is now 
published ; and contains one entire volume, the fifth, devoted to Kant. 
TR.] 

f I have incessantly referred to the translation of M. Jouffroy and the 
admirable lectures of M. Royer-Collard, in Vol. IV. of the First Series ; 
and I take pleasure in rendering on every occasion my homage to him 
who was and will always be to mo a revered master, and to him whom 
I may now name as the first of the independent pupils who have gone 
from my lecture-room. 



392 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

phy. In fact, philosophy is not such or such a particular 
school, but it is the common foundation, and so to say, the 
soul of all schools. It is distinct from all systems, but it is 
blended with all ; for it manifests, develops, and advances 
itself only by them. Its unity is even their variety, so dis 
cordant in appearance, and in reality so profoundly harmo 
nious. Its progress and its glory is their mutual perfec- 
tionment by their pacific conflicts. When we attack, with 
out qualification, any considerable system, we proscribe un 
awares some real element of the human mind and of things, 
and philosophy itself is in some part wounded. When we 
outrage an illustrious philosopher, to whatever school he 
may belong, we outrage philosophy and human reason in 
the person of one of its choicest representatives. I trust 
that nothing of this kind will ever come from me ; for 
what before all things I profess, what I teach, is not such or 
such a philosophy, but philosophy itself; not attachment 
to such or such a system, however grand it may be ; not 
admiration of such or such a man, whatever his genius ; 
but the philosophic spirit, superior to all systems and all 
philosophers, that is, the boundless love of truth, the knowl 
edge of all systems which, pretending to possess all the 
truth, at least possess something of the truth, and respect 
for all men who seek for it with talent and loyalty. The 
true muse of history is not Hatred, but Love ; and the 
mission of true criticism is, not merely to signalize the ex 
travagances, too real and too numerous, of philosophical 
systems, but also, to disengage from the folds of error, 
the truths which may and must be involved in t&em, and 
thereby to absolve philosophy in the past, to 
enlighten it for the future. 



APPENDIX. 
ADDITIONAL PIECES, 

FROM 

COUSIN S PHILOSOPHICAL FRAGMENTS, ETC* 



ADDITIONAL PIECES. 



CLASSIFICATION OF PHILOSOPHICAL QUESTIONS AND 
SCHOOLS. 

THE preliminary question of all philosophy is that of the 
classification of philosophical questions. 

The first law of a classification is, that it should be com 
plete, embracing all questions, general and particular, both 
those which present themselves immediately, and those 
which must be sought for in the depths of science in 
short all questions that are known and all that are pos 
sible. 

The second law of a classification is, that it should es 
tablish the relation of all the questions which it enumerates, 
and describe with precision the order in which each ques 
tion should be treated. 

Now, when I reflect upon all the questions that have oc 
cupied my own mind ; when I compare them with those 
that have occupied all philosophers; when I interrogate 
both books and myself; and above all, when I consult the 
nature of the human mind reason as well as experience 
seems to me to reduce all the problems of philosophy to a 
very small number of general problems, whose character is 
determined by the general aspect under which philosophy, 
or more particularly metaphysics, presents itself to my 
mind. 

Philosophy, it appears to me, is only the science of hu- 



396 ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 

man nature considered in the facts which it offers to our 
observation. Among these facts, there are those which re 
fer more especially to the intelligence, and are therefore 
commonly called metaphysical. Metaphysical facts the 
phenomena by which the intelligence displays itself when 
reduced in general formulas, constitute intellectual princi 
ples. Metaphysics is therefore the study of the intelligence 
in that of our intellectual principles. 

Intellectual principles present themselves under two as 
pects ; either as relative to the intelligence in which they 
exist, to the subject that possesses them, to the conscious 
ness and reflection which exercises and contemplates them 
or as relative to their objects, that is, no longer as in 
themselves and in ourselves, but in their consequences 
and external applications. Every intellectual principle in 
deed has reference to the human mind ; and at the same 
time that it refers itself to the human mind as the subject 
of all knowledge and all consciousness, it likewise has re 
spect to objects as existing out of the mind that con 
ceives them ; or to adopt those celebrated expressions, so 
convenient from their conciseness, precision, and force, 
every intellectual principle is either subjective or objective, 
or subjective and objective at the same time. There is no 
principle, no knowledge, no idea, no perception, no sensa 
tion, which does not come under the general division a 
division which includes and divides at the outset all the 
problems of philosophy into two great classes ; problems 
relative to subject, and problems relative to object / or, to 
speak more briefly, subjective problems, and objective 
problems. 

Let us unfold this general division, and deduce from it 
the particular questions which it contains. Let us examine 
first the intellectual, principles, independently of the exter 
nal consequences that may be derived from them. Let us 
develop the science of the subjective. 

This science is that of the internal world. It is the sci 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 397 

ence of the me, a science entirely distinct from that of the 
objective, which is, properly speaking, the science of the 
not-me. And this science of the me is not a romance con 
cerning the nature of the soul, its origin, and its end ; it is 
the true history of the soul, written by reflection, at the 
dictation of consciousness and memory. It is the mind 
falling back upon itself, and contemplating the spectacle 
presented by itself. It is occupied entirely with internal 
facts, phenomena perceptible and appreciable by conscious 
ness. I call it psychology^ or, again, phenomenology, in 
order to mark the nature of its objects. Now, in spite of 
the difficulties which a being thrown at first beyond him 
self and constantly drawn to the outward world by the 
wants of his sensibility and his reason has to encounter in 
the process of reflection, yet this science, entirely subjec 
tive as it is, is not above man, not beyond the reach of hu 
man nature. It is certain, for it is immediate. The me, 
and that with which it is occupied, are both contained in 
the same sphere, in the unity of consciousness. There the 
object of science is entirely internal; it is perceived intui 
tively by the subject. The subject and the object are given, 
intimately connected the one with the other. All the facts 
of consciousness are evident of themselves, as soon as con 
sciousness attains them ; but they frequently escape its 
grasp, by their extreme delicacy, or from being developed 
in others foreign to themselves. Psychology gives the 
most perfect certainty : but this certainty is found only at 
a depth which it belongs not to all eyes to penetrate. To 
arrive there it is necessary to abstract one s self from the 
world of extension and of form in which we have lived so 
long, and whose colors now tinge all our thoughts and 
language. It is necessary also to abstract one s self from 
the external world of being and of the absolute, which is 
even more difficult to remove than the former; that is to 
say, abstract one s self from an integral part of thought 
ilseli, for in all thought there is being and the absolute 



398 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

and, again, it is necessary to separate and distinguish 
thought without mutilating it, to disengage the phenomena 
of consciousness, both from the ontological notions which 
naturally envelop them, and from the logical forms which, 
in the developed intelligence, express and restrain them ; 
and to do this without falling into mere abstractions. In 
fine, after having established our position in this world of 
consciousness, so delicate and shifting, it is necessary to 
make a wide and profound review of all the phenomena 
comprehended in it ; for, here, phenomena are the elements 
of science. We must be sure of having omitted no ele 
ment, otherwise the science will be incomplete. We must 
be sure of having taken none upon supposition. We must 
be careful that we omit no real element, that we admit no 
foreign element, and, finally, that we view all the real ele 
ments in their true aspect, and in all the aspects which 
they present. When this preliminary labor has put us in 
possession of all the elements of science, it remains to con 
struct the science by bringing those elements together, by 
combining them, so as to exhibit them all in the different 
classes to which they would fall, and which result from 
their different characteristics, just as the naturalist arranges 
the varieties of the vegetable and mineral world, un 
der a certain number of divisions which comprehend 
them all. 

This done, all is not yet done ; the science of the sub 
jective is not yet exhausted ; the greatest difficulties re 
main to be overcome. We have recognized the internal 
world, the phenomena of consciousness, as consciousness 
at the present time displays them. We know the actual 
man, but we are still ignorant of primitive man. It is not 
enough for the human mind to contemplate the analytical 
inventory of its cognitions, arranged under their respect 
ive titles. The unwearied curiosity of man can not rest 
in these careful classifications; it goes on after higher 
problems, which at once daunt and attract it, which charm 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. ^99 

and defy it. We seem not lawfully to possess present re 
ality, until we have obtained the primitive truth ; and we 
ascend continually to the origin of our cognitions, as to the 
source of all light. With the question of the origin of 
knowledge a new question springs up, as difficult, perhaps 
more difficult. It is the question concerning the relation of 
the primitive to the actual. It is not enough to know where 
we now are, and from whence we started ; we must know 
all the road by which we arrived at the point where we 
now find ourselves. This third question is the complement 
of the two others. Here the whole problem is solved, the 
science of the subjective is truly exhausted; for when we 
have the two extreme points and the intermediate space, 
nothing more remains to be asked. 

Let us now consider the intellectual principles as relative 
to their external objects. 

A strange thing this ! A being perceives and knows, 
out of his own sphere ; he is nothing but himself, and yet 
he knows something that is not himself. His own exist 
ence is, for himself, nothing but his own individuality and 
yet from the bosom of this individual world which he in 
habits and which he constitutes, he attains to a world 
foreign to his own, and that, by powers which, altogether 
internal and personal as they are in reference to the sub 
ject in which they inhere, extend beyond its boundary, 
and discover to him things lying beyond his reflection and 
his consciousness. That the mind of man is provided with 
these wonderful powers, no one can doubt ; but is their 
reach and application legitimate? and does that which 
they reveal really exist ? The intellectual principles have 
an incontestable authority in the internal world of the 
subject but are they equally valid in reference to their 
external objects f 

This is eminently the objective problem. Now, as every 
thing which lies out of the consciousness is objective, and 
as all real and substantial existences are external to the 



400 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

consciousness, which is exercised only upon internal phe 
nomena, it follows, that every problem relating to any par 
ticular being, or in general implying the question of exist 
ence, is an objective problem. Finally, as the problem of 
the legitimacy of the means we have of knowing any thing 
objective, whatever it be, is the problem concerning the 
legitimacy of the means we have of knowing in an absolute 
manner (since the absolute is that which is not relative to 
the me, which refers to being in general), it follows that 
the problem concerning the legitimacy, and the validity, 
of all external, objective, and ontological knowledge, is 
the problem concerning absolute knowledge. The prob 
lem concerning the ABSOLUTE, constitutes the HIGHER 
LOGIC. 

When we are assured of the validity of our means of 
knowing in an absolute manner, we apply these means to 
some object, that is, to some particular being; and we 
raise the question concerning the reality of the substantial 
me of the 3oul which conceives, but does not perceive it 
self, and 01 that extended and figured substance which we 
call matter, and of that Supreme Being, the last ground of 
all beings, of all external objects, and of the subject itself, 
likewise, who rises to him GOD. 

At length, after these problems relative to the existence 
of different particular objects, come up those which per 
tain to the modes and characteristics of this existence, 
problems superior to all others ; since, if it is strange that 
the individual intelligence should know that there are ex 
istences out of its own sphere, it is still more strange that 
it should know what passes in spheres beyond its own ex 
istence and consciousness. 

These special researches constitute the HIGHER META 
PHYSICS, the science of the objective, of essence, of the 
invisible ; for all essence, every thing that is objective, is 
invisible to consciousness. 

Let us recapitulate. The objective problems divide 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 40] 

themselves into two great problems, the one logical, the 
other metaphysical ; namely, the problem of the absolute, 
the question concerning the reality of the existence of any 
thing objective ; and the question concerning the reality 
of the existence of different particular objects. Add to these 
two objective questions the three questions involved in the 
general question concerning the subjective* and you have 
all the questions of metaphysics. There is none which will 
nut fall within the general frame-work. We have there 
fore satisfied the first law of classification. Let us en 
deavor to satisfy the second, and to ascertain the order in 
which it is proper to examine each question. 

Let us first consider the two problems which contain all 
the others, that of the subject, and that of the object. 

Whether the object exists or not, it is obvious that it 
exists for us only as it is manifested to us by the subject ; 
and if it is maintained that the subject and the object are 
actually and primitively given us, the one with the other, 
it must always be admitted that, in this natural relation, 
the term which knows, should be considered, as in truth 
it is, the fundamental element of the relation. It is, there 
fore, with the subject that we are to commence. It is our 
selves we are first to know ; for we know nothing but in 
ourselves, and by ourselves. It is not ourselves who move 
around the external world, it is rather the external world 
which moves around us ; or if these two spheres have each 
their proper motions, and are merely correlative, we know 
not the fact, except as one of them teaches it to us. It is 
thereby, always, that we are to gain the knowledge of 
every thing, even the existence, and the independent exist 
ence of the other. 

We are, then, to commence with the subject, with the 
me, with consciousness. 

But the question concerning the subjective, involves in 
itself three others. With which of these are we to com 
mence ? In the first place, one of these questions consists 



402 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

in determining the relation of the other two, the relation 
of the primitive to the actual. It is clear that this can not 
be treated, until after the other two. It remains to de 
termine the order of the other two. Now a strict method 
will not hesitate to place the actual before the primitive ; 
for, by commencing with the primitive, we might obtain 
only a false primitive, which, in deduction, would give only 
an hypothetical actual, whose relation to the primitive 
would be only the relation of two hypotheses, more or less 
consistent. In commencing with the primitive, if a mis 
take is made, all is lost ; the science of the subjective is 
falsified, and what then will become of the objective? 
Besides, commencing with the primitive is to start with 
one of the most obscure and embarrassing problems, with 
out guide and without light ; whereas, to begin with the 
actual, is to begin with the easiest question, with the one 
which serves as the introduction to all the others. On 
every hand, experience and the experimental method have 
been celebrated as the triumph of the age and the genius 
of our epoch. The experimental method, in Psychology, 
is to begin with the actual, to exhaust it, if possible ; to 
take a strict account of all the principles which now actu 
ally govern the intelligence ; to admit only those which 
actually present themselves, but of those to reject none ; 
to ask none of them from whence they come, or where 
they go it is enough that they are actually present in na 
ture, they must have a place in science. No arbitrary 
judgment is to be passed upon facts, no systematic control. 
We are to be contented to register them, one with an 
other ; nor are we to be in any haste to torture them, in 
order to force from them some premature theory. We 
are to wait patiently until their number is complete, their 
relations unfolded, and the theory comes forth of itself. 

If we pass now from the subjective to the objective, and 
if we investigate the order of the two questions of which 
the objective is composed, it is easy to see that the logical 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 403 

question is to be treated before the metaphysical, the 
problem of the absolute and of existence in general before 
that of particular existences ; for the solution, whatever it 
be, of the first problem, is the principle of the second. 

Here then are the laws of classification satisfied ; the 
frame-work of philosophy divided and arranged : now who 
will build and fill it up ? 

In the first place, has there hitherto been a philosopher 
who has done this? If there were, there would be a met 
aphysical science, just as there is a geometry and a chem 
istry. But have not philosophers at least distinguished 
these different parts, if they have not filled them up? 
Have they not sketched the outlines and proportions of 
the edifice, if they have not yet been able to realize it ? 
If this were the case, there would be a science commenced, 
a route opened, a method fixed. But if philosophers have 
done neither of these, what have they done ? A few words 
will explain. 

The first philosophers have treated every thing and re 
solved every thing, but it is confusedly ; they have treated 
every thing, but without method, or with arbitrary and 
artificial methods. There is not a metaphysical problem 
which has not been agitated in every form and analyzed in 
a thousand ways by the philosophers of Greece, and by the 
Italian metaphysicians of the sixteenth century; neverthe 
less, neither the former, with their wonderful genius, nor 
the latter, with all their sagacity, could discover or settle 
the true limits of each problem, its relations, and its extent. 
No philosopher previous to Descartes has laid down pre 
cisely and distinctly the very first problem of philosophy, 
the distinction between the subject and the object; this 
distinction was scarcely any thing but a scholastic and 
grammatical distinction, which the successors of Aristotle 
vainly agitated without being able to deduce any thing 
from it but consequences of the same kind as their princi 
ple, grammatical consequences which, passing from gram- 



404 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

mar into logic and from thence into metaphysics, corrupted 
intellectual science and filled it with empty verbal argu 
ments. Descartes himsellj notwithstanding the strength 
and acuteness of his mind, did not penetrate the whole ex 
tent of this distinction ; his glory consists in having made 
it and having placed the true starting-point of philosophical 
investigations in the consciousness, in the me / but he was 
not so much aware as he should have been of the abyss that 
separates the subject from the object; and after having 
laid down the problem, this great man resolved it far too 
hastily. It was reserved for the eighteenth century to 
apply and extend the spirit of the Cartesian philosophy, 
and to produce three schools which, instead of losing them 
selves in external and objective investigations, began by 
an examination, more or less strict, more or less profound, 
of the human mind itself and its faculties. It belonged to 
the greatest philosopher of the last age, by the very title 
of his own philosophy to mark the characteristic of modem 
philosophy. The system of Kant is called the Critical Phi 
losophy (I&itik). The other two European schools, the one 
anterior, the other cotemporaneous, the school of Locke 
and the school of Reid, are both far below the school of 
Kant, by the inferiority of the genius of their masters, and 
by the inferiority of their doctrines, and both very differ 
ent from each other in their principles and in their conse 
quences, yet both belong to the school of Kant, and are inti 
mately connected with each other by the spirit of criticism 
and analysis by which they are recommended. If the anal 
ysis of Reid is stricter and more extended than that of 
Locke, we must not forget that he had the advantage of all 
the light which the works written in the system of Loclte 
shed upon that system ; and we should beware of injustice 
toward Locke, and particularly we should guard against be 
ing unjust to Descartes the founder of the modern philosophy. 
But much as the three great schools of Europe are allied 
in the general spirit that animates them, they differ as 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 405 

much in their positive principles ; and the reason of this 
difference is the particular point of view under which each 
of these schools has considered philosophy. All philosoph 
ical questions being reducible to three great questions, 
hi regard to the objective, to the question concerning the 
absolute and the reality of existences, in regard to the sub 
jective, to that of the actual, and that of the primitive, the 
weakness of the human mind, which is seen in the strong 
est intellects, did not permit Locke, and Reid, and Kant 
to bestow their attention equally upon these three ques 
tions. It was directed respectively to one. Locke, Reid, 
and Kant took each a different question ; so that by a for 
tune sufficiently remarkable, each of the three great ques 
tions which make up metaphysics became the special object 
and the exclusive possession of one of the three great 
schools of the eighteenth century. The school of Locke 
seeks after the origin of knowledge [the subjective primi 
tive, /] the Scotch school of Reid seeks rather after the 
actual characteristics which human knowledge presents in 
the developed intelligence \the subjective actual /] and the 
school of Kant is occupied with the legitimacy of the pass 
age from the subjective to the objective [the objective log 
ical transcendental logic]. Let me explain : I do not 
mean to say that each of these three schools has taken up 
but a single problem ; I mean that eacli of them is more 
especially occupied with a particular problem, and is emi 
nently characterized by the mode in which that problem is 
resolved. All the world is agreed that Locke has miscon 
ceived many of the actual characteristics of human knowl 
edge ; Reid does not conceal that the question of their 
origin is of little importance in his view ; and Kant contents 
himself with indicating in general the source of human 
knowledge without investigating the special origin of each 
of those intellectual principles, those celebrated categories 
which he established. Now it seems to me that in folio w- 
ing this parallel division of the questions and schools of 



406 ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 

philosophy, the history of philosophy might be viewed un 
der a new aspect. In the three great modern schools we 
might study the three great philosophical questions ; each 
of these three schools, partial and incomplete in itself, might 
be extended and enlarged by the vicinity of the others ; 
opposed, they would reveal their relative imperfections; 
brought together, they would mutually supply what each 
one is deficient in. It would be an interesting and instruct 
ive spectacle to show the vices of the modern schools by 
engaging them one against the other, and to bring togeth 
er their several merits into one vast central ECLECTICISM 
which should combine and complete all three. The Scot 
tish philosophy would demonstrate the vices of the philos 
ophy of Locke ; Locke would serve to question Reid on 
the subjects which he has too much neglected; and the ex 
amination of the system of Kant would introduce us into 
the depths of a problem which has escaped both the other 
schools. 



n. 



PSYCHOLOGICAL METHOD. ANALYSIS OF CONSCIOUSNESS. 
ITS ONTOLOGICAL RESULTS. 

[Preface to the First Edition of the Philosophical Fragments.] 

A SYSTEM is scarcely any thing but the development of a 
method applied to certain objects. Nothing therefore is 
nore important than to ascertain and determine, in the 
first place, the method which we wish to pursue ; to give 
an account to ourselves of our good and our bad impulses 
and of the direction in which they impel us, and to which 
we must know whether or not we mean to consent ; for our 
philosophy, like our destiny, must necessarily be our own. 
Undoubtedly, we should borrow it from truth and the ne 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 407 

cessity of things ; but we ought also to receive it freely, 
with a perfect comprehension of what we borrow and what 
we receive. Philosophy, whether speculative or practical, 
is the alliance of necessity and liberty in the mind of the 
man, who spontaneously places himself in harmony with 
the laws of universal existence. The end is in the Infinite, 
but the point of departure is in ourselves. Open the books 
of history ; every philosopher who has respected his fellow- 
men, and who has not wished to offer them merely the indef 
inite results of certain dreams, has begun with the considera 
tion of method. Every doctrine which has exercised any 
influence, has done so and could do so, only by the new 
direction which it has given to the mind, by the new point 
of view in which it has presented the subjects of inquiry, 
that is to say, by its method. Every philosophical reform 
has its avowed or secret principle in a change or in an ad 
vancement of method 

It is an incontestable fact that in England and France in 
the eighteenth century, Locke and Condillac supplanted 
the great schools of a previous date, and have reigned with 
out contradiction to the present date. Instead of being 
irritated at this fact, we should endeavor to comprehend 
it ; for after all, facts do not create themselves ; they have 
their laws, which are connected with the general laws of 
the human race. If the philosophy of sensation actually 
gained credit in England and France, there must have 
been some reason for this fact. Now this reason, when we 
come to retlect upon it, does honor and not discredit to the 
human mind. It was not its fault, if it could not remain 
Ji the shackles of Cartesianism ; for it belonged to Carte- 
sianism to protect it, to satisfy all the conditions which can 
perpetuate a system. In the general movement of affairs 
and the progress of time, the spirit of analysis and ob 
servation was also to have its place ; and this place it found 
in the eighteenth century. The spirit of the eighteenth 



408 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

century needs no apology. The apology for a century is 
the fact of its existence ; for its existence is a decree and 
a judgment of God himself; or else history is nothing but 
an insignificant phantasmagoria. The modern spirit is 
often accused of incredulity and skepticism, but it is skep 
tical only with regard to what it does not understand, in 
credulous only concerning what it can not believe, that is 
to say, the condition of understanding and of believing, at 
that epoch, as at many former epochs, having been changed 
for the human race, it was indispensable, on pain of sur 
rendering its independence, that it should impose new 
conditions on every thing which aspired to govern its intel 
ligence and its faith. Faith is neither exhausted nor dimin 
ished. The human race, like the individual, lives only by 
faith ; but the conditions of faith, however, are constantly 
renewed. In the eighteenth century, the general condi 
tion of comprehending and of believing was that of having 
observed the object ; from that time, all philosophy which 
aspired to authority must needs be founded on observation. 
Now, Cartesianism, especially with the modifications which 
it had received from Malebranche, Spinoza, Leibnitz, and 
Wolf Cartesianism, which in the second stage of its prog 
ress, abandons observation and loses itself in ontological 
hpyotheses and scholastic formulas, could not pretend to 
the character of experimental philosophy. Another system 
was presented in this character, and in this character, it 
was accepted. Such is the explantion of the fall of Carte 
sianism, and the success of the philosophy of Locke and 
Condillac. If we reflect for a moment on the subject, the 
success of this meager philosophy still testifies to the dig 
nity and independence of the human mind, which forsakes 
in its turn the systems which forsake it, and pursues its 
path even through the most deplorable errors, rather than 
not advance at all. It did not adopt the philosophy of 
sensation on account of its Materialism ; but on account of 
its experimental character, which to a certain degree it 



ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 409 

actually possessed. The favor with which this philosophy 
was received did not come from its dogmas, but from its 
method ; and this method \vas not its own, but that of the 
age. And it is true that the experimental method was the 
necessary fruit of time, and not the transient work of a 
sect in England and France ; and if we calmly examine the 
cotemporary schools, the most opposed to that of sensa 
tion, we shall find the same pretensions to observation and 
experience. Reid and Kant, in Scotland and in Germany, 
engaged in conflict against, and utterly overthrew, the 
doctrine of Locke ; but with what weapons ? With those 
of Locke himself; with the experimental method dif 
ferently applied. Reid starts from the human mind and 
its faculties, which he analyzes in their actual operation, 
and the laws of which he determines. Kant, separating 
reason from all its objects, and considering, if I may so 
speak, only its interior, gives a profound and exquisite 
statistical account of it ; his philosophy is a Critique ; it is 
always that of observation and experience. Make the tour 
of Europe and of the world, you will every where find the 
same spirit, the same method ; and this in fact constitutes 
the unity of the age, since this unity presents itself in the 

midst of the most striking diversities 

To be limited to observation and experience is to be 
limited to human nature ; for we observe only with our 
selves, in proportion to our faculties and their laws. We 
are then limited to human nature. But what else would 
we have ? If the observation which goes as far as human na 
ture can go, does not suffice for the attainment of all truths 
and all convictions, and for the completion of the whoU 
circle of science, the evil is certainly not in the method 
which limits us to our natural means of knowledge, but in 

o " 

the weakness of those means and of our nature from which 
we can not escape. In fact, whatever method we may 
adopt, it is always ourselves who have made it or who em 
ploy it ; it is always with ourselves that we act ; it is 

18 



410 ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 

always human nature which, appearing to forget itself is 
always present, which does every thing that is done or at 
tempted, even apparently beyond its power. Either we 
must despair of science, or human nature is competent to 
attain it. Observation, that is, human nature accepted as 
the sole instrument of discovery, is competent, when prop 
erly employed, or nothing is competent ; for we have noth 
ing else, and our predecessors had no more. Let us study 
the systems on which time has passed sentence ; what has 
it destroyed ? What could it destroy ? The hypothetical 
part of those systems. But what gave life and coherence 
to those hypotheses? Merely certain truths which had 
been discovered by observation, which observation now 
discovers, and which still possess, for that reason, the same 
certainty and the same novelty as heretofore. What has 
raised so high and yet sustains the numbers of Pythagoras, 
the ideas of Plato, the categories of Aristotle ? A fact no 
less real at this moment than it was in antiquity, namely 
that there are real elements in intelligence which the ac 
quisitions of the senses alone can not explain. What has 
produced the vision in God of Malebranche, and the pre- 
established harmony of Leibnitz ? Facts again ; the fact 
that there is not a single cognition which does not suggest 
to our minds the notion of existence, that is to say, of God , 
the fact that our intelligence and our sensibility, though 
inseparable, are distinct, that each has its independent laws 
by which it is governed, but that these laws have their 
secret relations and harmony. If we thus examine the 
most celebrated hypotheses we shall perceive that even 
when they are lost in the clouds, their root is here below 
in some fact, real in itself; and that it is by this fact, that 
they have been established and brought into credit among 
men. Every unmingled error is incomprehensible and in 
admissible. It is only by its relation with the truth that it 
is sustained. It is impossible for the most extravagant sys 
tems not to have some reasonable aspects ; and it is always 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 411 

the unperceived common sense which gives success to the 
hypothesis with which it is combined. At the bottom, 
every thing true and permanent in the systems that are 
scattered through the course of ages is the fruit of observa 
tion which often labors for philosophy without the knowl 
edge of the philosopher ; and, what is remarkable, there is 
nothing permanent in the changing forms of human opinion 
but that which comes precisely from this experimental 
method, which at first appears competent to attain only 
that which is transitory. 

The method of observation is good in itself. It is given 
to us by the spirit of the age, which itself is the product 
of the general spirit of the world. We have faith only 
in that method, we can do nothing except with that, and 
yet in England and in France, it has hitherto done nothing 
but destroy without building up. With us, its single 
work in philosophy is the system of transformed sensation. 
And whose is the fault? Not of the method, but of men 
The method is irreproachable ; but it should be applied ac 
cording to its true spirit. We must do nothing but ob 
serve ; but we must observe every thing. Human nature 
is not impotent ; but we must deprive it of no portion of 
its strength. We may arrive at a permanent system ; but 
it is possible only on condition that we are not stopped at 
the entrance of our course by a systematic prejudice. The 
philosophy of the eighteenth century did not proceed and 
could not proceed in this manner. The offspring of a 
struggle against the past, and wishing to gain by this 
struggle, it was experimental against the past, but system 
atic in relation to experience ; fearful of going astray in 
the ancient darkness, finding evident facts under its hand 
in sensations, it was led to rest with them : at first through 
weakness, for every new method is weak ; then by the 
dazzling influence, at that time, almost irresistible, of the 
success of the physical sciences, which seduced the atten 
tion from every other order of phenomena; and finally, by 



412 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

the blindness of the spirit of revolution which could be 
enlightened only by its excesses, and which was destined to 
go on until it had obtained an absolute triumph. Its cradle 
had been England ; it was necessary that its battle-field 
should be France. Bacon has been often celebrated as the 
father of the experimental method ; but the truth is that 
Bacon marked out the rules and processes of the experi 
mental method within the sphere of the physical sciences, 
but not beyond ; and that he was the first to lead that 
method astray in a systematic path, by limiting it to the 
external world and to sensibility. The language of Bacon 
is : " Mens humana si agat in materiam, naturam rerum et 
opera Dei contemplando, pro modo materiaB operatur atque 
ab eadem determinatur : si ipsa in se vertatur, tanquam 
aranea texens telam, tune demum indeterminata est; et 
parit telas quasdam doctrine tenuitate fili operisque 
mirabiles, sed quoad usum frivolas et inanes." As a general 
rule, observation with Bacon is applicable only to the phe 
nomena of sense ; but induction supported on this basis alone 
will carry us but a little way. The philosophy which must 
needs proceed from such an imperfect application of 
method could not but be miserably imperfect itself. The 
system of transformed sensation was at the end of a 
procedure like this ; and Bacon necessarily produced 
Condillac. Of so much consequence are the aberrations of 
method. Even the most trifling bring in their train the 
gravest errors which can not be destroyed but by going 
back to their principle. The first aberration from the philos 
ophical method comes from Bacon, its consequences stop 
only with Condillac, beyond whom there is no room for 
any further aberration, whether in point of method or of 
system. Is the imperfect method of Bacon admitted ? 
Then all the defects of the system of Condillac must be 
adopted. It is only feebleness and inconsistency which can 
stop short of them. Does the system of Condillac, in its 
rigor, shock the least attentive observation and human 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 413 

nature itself? We must go back to Bacon and endeavor 
to put a stop to the evil at its source ; we must borrow the 
experimental method from Bacon, but avoid corrupting ob 
servation at the outset by imposing on it a system. We 
must employ only the method of observation, but apply it 
to all facts, whatever they may be, provided they exist ; 
its accuracy depends on its impartiality, and impartiality ia 
found only in universality. In this way, perhaps, may be 
established the long-sought alliance between the metaphys 
ical and the physical sciences, not by the systematic sacri 
fice of the one to the other, but by the unity of their 
method applied to different phenomena. It might be pos 
sible, in this way, to satisfy the conditions of the spirit of 
the age, and of all that was legitimate and necessary in the 
revolution of the eighteenth century ; and also perhaps to 
satisfy the most elevated wants of human nature, which 
are facts in themselves, facts no less incontestable and im 
perious than any others 

Facts, therefore, are the point of departure, if not the 
limit of philosophy. Now facts, whatever they may be, ex 
ist for us only as they come to our consciousness. It is 
there alone that observation seizes them and describes 
them, before committing them to induction, which forces 
them to reveal the consequences which they contain in 
their bosom. The field of philosophical observation is con 
sciousness ; there is no other ; but in this nothing is to be 
neglected; every thing is important, for every thing is 
linked together; and if one part be wanting, complete 
unity is unattainable. To return within our consciousness, 
and scrupulously to study all the phenomena, their differ 
ences and their relations ; this is the primary study of phi 
losophy. Its scientific name is psychology. Psychology 
is then the condition and as it were the vestibule of philos 
ophy. The psychological method consists in completely 
retiring within the world of consciousness, in order to be 
come familiar in that sphere where all is reality, but where 



414 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

the reality is so various and so delicate ; and the psycho 
logical talent consists in placing ourselves at will within 
this interior world, in presenting the spectacle there dis 
played to ourselves ; and reproducing freely and distinctly 
all the facts which are accidentally and confusedly brought 
to our notice by the circumstances of life 

As soon as we return within our consciousness, and, free 
from every systematic view, observe the diversified phe 
nomena which are there exhibited, with the actual charac 
teristics which distinguish them, we are at first struck with 
the presence of a multitude of phenomena which it is im 
possible to confound with those of sensibility. Sensation 
and the notions which it furnishes, or with which it is com 
bined, indeed constitute an actual order of phenomena in 
our consciousness ; but it also presents other facts no less 
incontestable, which we may reduce to two great classes, 
voluntary facts and rational facts. The will is not sensa 
tion ; for the will often combats sensation ; and it is even 
in this opposition that it is most signally manifested. 
Neither is the reason identical with sensation ; for among 
the notions which reason furnishes, there are some, the 
characteristics of which are irreconcilable with those of 
the sensible phenomena ; for example, the notions of cause, 
of substance, of time, of space, of unity, and the like. Let 
sensation be tortured, as much as you please, you will 
never draw from it the characteristics of universality and 
necessity by which these notions and many others are in- 
contestably distinguished. The case is the same with re 
gard to the notion of the Good and that of the Beautiful : 
and, consequently, art and morality are enfranchised from 
the origin and the limits that have been imposed upon 
them by the exclusive philosophy of sensation, and placed, 
together with metaphysics, in a superior and independent 
sphere. But this sphere itself, in all its sublimity, composes 
a portion of our consciousness, and hence falls within the 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 415 

reach of observation. Observation disengages it from the 
clouds in which it is usually enveloped, and gives to the 
phenomena which it comprises the same authority with 
the other phenomena of which consciousness is the theater. 
The method of observation, accordingly, in the limits 
within which it is at first held by a wise circumspection, 
presents to us already many attractive prospects. These 
we must follow and enlarge. 

The first duty of the psychological method is to retire 
within the field of consciousness, where there is nothing 
but phenomena that are all capable of being perceived 
and judged by observation. Now as no substantial exist 
ence falls under the eye of consciousness, it follows that the 
first effect of a rigid application of method is to postpone 
the subject of ontology. It postpones it, I say, but does 
not destroy it. It is a fact, indeed, attested by observa 
tion, that in this same consciousness, in which there is 
nothing but phenomena, there are found notions, whose 
regular development passes the limits of consciousness and 
attains the knowledge of actual existences. Would you 
stop the development of these notions ? You would then 
arbitrarily limit the compass of a fact, you would attack 
this fact itself, and thus shake the authority of all other 
facts. We must either call in question the authority of 
consciousness in itself; or admit the authority without re 
serve for all the facts attested by consciousness. The 
reason is no less certain and real than the will or the 
sensibility ; its certainty once admitted, we must follow it 
wherever it rigorously conducts, though it be even into 
the depths of ontology. For example, it is a rational fact 
attested by consciousness, that in the view of intelligence, 
every phenomenon which is presented supposes a cause. 
It is a fact, moreover, that this principle of causality ia 
marked with the characteristics of universality and neces 
sity. If it be universal and necessary, to limit it would be 
to destroy it. Now in the phenomenon of sensation, the 



416 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

principle of causality intervenes universally and necessarily, 
and refers this phenomenon to a cause ; and our conscious 
ness testifying that this cause is not the personal cause 
which the will represents, it follows that the principle of 
causality in its irresistible application conducts to an im 
personal cause, that is to say, to an external cause, which 
subsequently, and always irresistibly, the principle of caus 
ality enriches with the characteristics and laws, of which 
the aggregate is the Universe. Here then is an existence ; 
but an existence revealed by a principle which is itself at 
tested by consciousness. Here is a primary step in ontol 
ogy, but by the path of psychology, that is to say, of 
observation. We are led by similar processes to the Cause 
of all causes, to the substantial Cause ; to God, and not 
only to a God of Power, but to a God of Justice, a God of 
Holiness ; so that this experimental method, which, applied 
to a single order of phenomena, incomplete and exclusive, 
destroyed ontology and the higher elements of conscious 
ness, applied with fidelity, firmness, and completeness, to 
all the phenomena, builds up all that which it had over 
thrown, and by itself furnishes ontology with a sure and 
legitimate instrument. Thus, having commenced with 
modesty, we can end with results whose certainty is 

equaled by their importance 

Sensible facts are necessary. We do not impute them 
to ourselves. Rational facts are also necessary ; and reason 
is no less independent of the will than sensibility. Volun 
tary facts alone are marked in the view of consciousness 
with the characteristics of personality and responsibility. 
The will alone is the person, or the me. The me is the 
center of the intellectual sphere. So long as the me does not 
exist, the conditions of the existence of all the other phe 
nomena might be in force, but, without relation to the me, 
they would not be reflected in the consciousness, and would 
be for it as though they were not. On the other hand, 
the will creates none of the rational and sensible phenom< 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 417 

ena ; it even supposes them, since it does not apprehend 
itself, except in distinction from them. We do not find 
ourselves, except in a foreign world, between two orders 
of phenomena which do not pertain to us, which we do not 
even perceive, except on condition of separating ourselves 
from them. Still further, we do not perceive at all, except 
by a light which does not come from ourselves, for our 
personality is the will and nothing more ; all light comes 
from reason, and it is reason which perceives both itself 
and the sensibility which envelops it, and the will which it 
obliges, without constraining. The element of knowledge 
is rational by its essence ; and consciousness, although com 
posed of three integrant and inseparable elements, borrows 
its most immediate foundation from reason, without which 
no knowledge would be possible, and consequently no 
consciousness. Sensibility is the external condition of 
consciousness ; the will is its center ; and reason its light. 
A profound and thorough analysis of reason is one of the 
most delicate undertakings of psychology. . 

Reason is impersonal in its nature. It is not we who 
make it. It is so far from being individual that its pecu 
liar characteristics are the opposite of individuality, namely, 
universality and necessity : since it is to reason, that we 
owe the knowledge of universal and necessary truths, of 
principles which we all obey, and which we can not but 
obey. The existence of these principles is then a prelim 
inary fact which it was essential to establish in the first 
place upon the most complete evidence. It is a triumph 
of the method of observation, to which it must have been 
indebted for in incontestable basis. Then comes the 
question with regard to the precise number of these regu- 
lating principles of reason, which, as far as we are con 
cerned, are reason itself. After having established the 
existence of such principles, it is the business of method to 

18* 



418 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

attempt a complete enumeration and a rigorous classifica 
tion of them. 

Plato, who following Pythagoras, built his philosophy on 
these principles, neglected to count them; it seems as if he 
shrunk from permitting a profane analysis to touch those 
divine wings on which he soared into the world of ideas. 
The methodical Aristotle, faithful to his master, but still 
more faithful to analysis, after having changed ideas into 
categories, submitted them to a severe examination, and 
did not hesitate to give a list of them. This list, so much 
despised by frivolous minds as an arid nomenclature, is the 
boldest and the most hazardous effort of method. Is the 
list of Aristotle complete ? I believe that it is. It ex 
hausts the subject. Let this be its immortal glory. But 
if the enumeration is complete, is there nothing to be de 
sired in the classification and the arrangement of the 
categories ? Here commences the defect of the list of 
Aristotle. In my opinion, its order is arbitrary and does not 
correspond to the progressive development of intelligence. 
Besides, does not this list contain repetitions ? Would it 
not be possible to reduce it ? I have no doubt of it. 
Among modern systems, Cartesianism recognizes necessary 
truths ; but it makes no attempt at completeness and pre 
cision with regard to them. In the eighteenth century, in 
France, necessary truths were set aside as by the previous 
question ; they did not even receive the honor of being 
submitted to examination ; they were guilty of being found 
in the old system ; they must be sacrificed to sensation, the 
only basis and standard of all possible truth. The Scottish 
school which restored them to honor, enumerated a part 
of them, but did not think of making a complete account. 
It was reserved for Kant to renew the undertaking of 
Aristotle, and the first among the moderns to attempt to 
form a complete list of the laws of thought. Of these, 
Kant made an exact and profound review, and his labor, 
in this respect, is superior even to that of Aristotle ; but, 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 410 

in my opinion, similar charges can be brought against him ; 
and a long and detailed examination may have demon 
strated to those who attended my Course of 1818, that if 
the list of Kant is complete, it is arbitrary in its classifica 
tion, and is susceptible of a legitimate reduction. If I 
have accomplished any thing useful in my teaching, it is 
perhaps on this point. I have at least renewed an import 
ant question: I have debated the two most celebrated 
solutions ; and I have ventured to propose another which 
time and discussion have not yet shaken. In my opinion, 
all the laws of thought may be reduced to two, namely, 
the law of causality and that of substance. These are the 
two essential and fundamental laws, of which ah 1 others 
are only derivatives, developed in an order by no means 
arbitrary. I have demonstrated, as I think, that if we 
examine these two laws in the order of the nature of things, 
the first is that of substance and the second that of caus 
ality ; while in the order of the acquisition of our ideas, 
the law of causality precedes that of substance, or rather 
both are given to us together, and are cotemporary in 
our consciousness. 

It is not sufficient to have enumerated, classed, and re 
duced to a system th laws of reason ; we must prove that 
they are absolute, in order to prove that their conse 
quences, whatever they may be, are also absolute. Here 
is the defect of the celebrated discussion of Kant respect 
ing the Objective and Subjective in human knowledge. 
That great man, after seeing so clearly all the laws which 
preside, over thought, struck with the character of neces 
sity which they bear, that is to say, our inability not to 
recognize and follow them, supposed that he saw in this 
very fact a bond of dependence and relativeness with re 
spect to the me, the peculiar and distinctive characteristic 
of which he was far from having completely fathomed. 
Now as soon as the laws of reason are degraded to being 
nothing but laws relative to the human condition, their 



420 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

whole compass is circumscribed by the sphere of our per* 
sonal nature ; and their widest consequences, always 
marked with an indelible character of subjectivity, en 
gender only irresistible persuasions, if you please, but no 
independent truths. This is the procedure by which that 
incomparable analyst, after having so well described all the 
laws of thought, reduces them to impotence ; and with all 
the conditions of certainty, arrives at an ontological Skep 
ticism, from which he finds no other asylum than the sub 
lime inconsequence of allowing more objectivity to the 
laws of practical reason than those of speculative reason. 
The whole endeavor of my Lectures of 1818, after a system 
atic catalogue of the laws of reason, was to free them from 
the character of subjectivity which seemed to be imposed 
upon them by that of necessity ; to reinstate them in their 
independence ; and to save philosophy from the rock on 
which it had been thrown the moment of reaching the port. 
Our public discussions, for several months, were devoted 
to showing that the laws of human reason are nothing less 
than the laws of reason in itself. More faithful than ever 
to the psychological method, instead of departing from 
observation, I plunged into it more deeply : and it is by 
observation that in the recesses of consciousness, and at a 
depth to which Kant did not penetrate, under the apparent 
relativeness and subjectivity of the necessary principles 
of thought, I detected and unfolded the fact, instantaneous 
but real, of the spontaneous perception of truth a per 
ception, which not reflecting itself immediately, passes 
without notice in the interior consciousness, buj is the 
actual basis of that which, at a subsequent period, in a 
logical form and in the hands of reflection, becomes a 
necessary conception. All subjectivity, with all that is of 
a reflective character, expires in the spontaneity of percep 
tion. But the spontaneous perception is so pure that it 
escapes our notice ; it is the reflected light which strikes 
us, but often obscuring, by its false brightness, the purity 



ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 421 

of the primitive light. Reason it is true, becomes sub 
jective by its relation to the free and voluntary me, the 
seat and type of all subjectivity ; but in itself it is imper 
sonal ; it belongs to no one individual rather than another 
within the compass of humanity ; it belongs not even to 
humanity itself; and its laws consequently depend only on 
themselves. They preside over and govern humanity 
which perceives them, as well as nature which represents 
them ; but they belong neither to the one or the other. 
It might even be said with greater truth that nature and 
humanity belonged to them ; since they have no beauty 
or truth but by their relation to intelligence, and since 
nature without the laws by which it is governed, and 
humanity without the principles which guide it, would 
soon be lost in the abyss of nothingness, from which they 
could never escape. The laws of intelligence therefore 
constitute a separate world, which governs the visible 
world, presides over its movements, sustains and preserves 
it, but does not depend upon it. This is the intelligible 
world, the sphere of ideas, distinct from and independent 
of their subjects, internal and external, which Plato had 
glimpses of, and which modern analysis and psychology 
still discover at the present day in the depths of conscious 
ness. 

The laws of thought having been demonstrated to be 
absolute, induction can make use of them without hesita 
tion ; and from absolute principles obtained by observation 
can legitimately conduct us to a point beyond the immedi 
ate sphere of observation itself. Now among the laws of 
thought given by psychology, the two fundamental laws 
which contain all the others, the law of causality and the 
law of substance, irresistibly applied to themselves, elevate 
us immediately to their cause and their substance, and as 
they are absolute, they elevate us to an absolute cause and 
an absolute substance. But an absolute cause and an ab 
solute substance are identical in essence ; since every ab- 



422 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

solute cause must be substance in so far as it is absolute; 
and every absolute substance must be cause in order to 
be able to manifest itself. Besides, an absolute substance 
must be One in order to be absolute ; two absolutes are a 
contradiction ; and the absolute substance must be One, or 
not at all. We may even say that all substance is absolute 
in so far as it is substance, and consequently One ; for rela 
tive substances destroy the very idea of substance, and 
finite substances which suppose beyond them another sub 
stance still to which they belong, bear a strong resem 
blance to phenomena. The Unity of substance, therefore, 
is involved in the very idea of substance, which is derived 
from the law of substance, an incontestable result of psy 
chological observation ; so that experience applied to con 
sciousness, at a certain degree of profoundness, gives that 
which appears at first view to be the most opposed to it, 
namely, ontology. In fact, substantial causality is Being in 
itself; the rational laws, therefore, are laws of Being, and 
reason is the true existence. Thus, as analysis applied to 
consciousness at first separated reason from personality, so 
now on the elevated point to which we have been con 
ducted by analysis, we perceive that reason and its laws, 
referred to substance, can be neither a modification nor an 
effect of the me, since they are the immediate effect of the 
manifestation of absolute substance. Ontology, therefore, 
returns to psychology the lights which it borrows from it ; 
and we thus arrive at the identity of the two extremities 
of science. 

Such is the analysis of reason. That of activity is not less 
important. Of all the active phenomena, the most striking 
undoubtedly is that of will. It is a fact, that in the midst 
of the movements which are carried on within us by exter 
nal agents in spite of ourselves, w T e have the power of com 
mencing a different movement, in the first place of conceiv 
ing it, then of deliberating whether we shall execute it, 
finally of resolving and proceeding to execution, of begin- 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 423 

mng it, of pursuing or suspending it, of accomplishing or 
retarding it, and at all times of controlling it. The fact is 
certain ; and it is no less certain, that the movement ac 
complished on these conditions assumes a new character in 
our eyes ; we impute it to ourselves, we refer it as an effect 
to ourselves, and in that case we consider ourselves as its 
cause. This is the origin of our notion of cause, not of an 
abstract cause, but of a personal cause, of ourselves. The 
peculiar characteristic of the me is causality, or will, since 
we refer to ourselves, we impute to ourselves, only what 
we cause, and we cause only what we will. To will, to 
cause, to exist for ourselves these are synonymous expres 
sions of the same fact, which comprises at once will, caus 
ality, and personality. The relation of the will and the 
person is not a simple relation of co-existence ; it is a true 
relation of identity. To exist for ourselves is not one thing, 
and to will another, for in that case, there could be imper 
sonal volitions, which is contrary to facts, or a personality, 
or self-conscious me without will, which is impossible ; for 
to know myself as the me, is to distinguish myself from a 
not me ; now, we can not distinguish ourselves from that 
but by separating ourselves from it, by leaving the imper 
sonal movement and producing one which we impute to 
ourselves, that is to say, by exercising an act of volition. 
Will therefore is the essence of the person. The move 
ments of sensibility, the desires, the passions, so far from 
constituting personality, destroy it. Personality and pas 
sion are essentially in an inverse relation, in an opposition 
to each other, which constitutes life. As we can find the 
element of personality only in the will, so also we can find 
the element of causality only in the same place. We must 
not confound the will or the internal causality which imme 
diately produces effects internal at first like their cause, 
with the external and actually passive instruments of this 
causality, which as instruments, appear at first sight also 
to produce effects, but without being their primary cause 



424 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

that is to say, their true cause. When I throw a ball 
against another, it is not. the ball which actually causes the 
motion that it communicates, for this motion was communi 
cated to it by the hand, by the muscles which in our won 
derful organization are at the service of the will. Properly 
speaking, these actions are only effects connected with one 
another, alternately resembling causes, without containing 
a single real cause, and all traceable as effects, more or less 
distinctly, to the wiil as their primary cause. If we seek 
the notion of cause in the action of one ball upon another, 
as was done previously to Hume ; or in the action of the 
hand on the ball, and of the primary muscles of motion on 
their extremities, or even in the action of the will on the 
muscle, as was done by M. Maine de Biran ; we shall find 
it in none of these cases, not even in the last, for it is pos 
sible that there should be a paralysis of the muscles which 
deprives the will of power over them, makes it unproduct 
ive, incapable of being a cause, and consequently of sug 
gesting the notion of it. But what no paralysis can prevent, 
is the action of the will on itself, the production of a res 
olution, that is to say, an act of causation entirely mental, 
the primitive type of all causality, of which all external 
movements, commencing with the muscular effort and 
ending with the action of one ball on another, are only 
symbols more or less imperfect. The first cause for us 
therefore is the will, of which the first effect is a volition. 
This is at once the highest and the purest source of the 
notion of cause, which thus becomes identical with that of 
personality. And it is the taking possession, so to speak, 
of the cause in the will and the personality which is the 
condition for us of the ulterior or simultaneous conception 
of the external impersonal causes. 

The phenomenon of will presents the following elements ; 
1, to decide upon an act to be performed ; 2, to deliberate ; 
3, to resolve. Now if we look at it, it is reason which 
composes the first element entirely, and even the second ; 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 425 

for it is reason also which deliberates, but it is not reason 
which resolves and determines. Now reason, which is thus 
combined with will, is combined in a reflective form ; to 
conceive an end, to deliberate, involves the idea of reflec 
tion. Reflection is therefore the condition of every volun 
tary act, if every voluntary act supposes a predetermina 
tion of its object and a process of deliberation. Now to 
act voluntarily, is, as we have seen, to act in this manner ; 
and it is because the will is in fact reflective, that it pre 
sents such a striking phenomenon. But can a reflective 
operation be a primitive operation ? To will is with the 
consciousness that we can resolve and act to deliberate 
whether we shall resolve, whether we shall act in such or 
such a manner, and to decide in favor of one or the other. 
The result of this choice, of this decision preceded by de 
liberation and predetermination, is volition, the immediate 
effect of personal activity ; but in order to resolve and to 
act in this manner, it was necessary to know that we could 
resolve and act, it was necessary that we should have pre 
viously resolved and acted in a different manner, without 
deliberation or predetermination, that is to say, without re 
flection. The operation previous to reflection is sponta 
neity. It is a fact that even now we often act without 
having deliberated, and that rational perception spontane 
ously making known to us the act to be performed, the per 
sonal activity also spontaneously enters into operation and 
resolves at once, not by a foreign impulse, but by a kind of 
immediate inspiration, prior to reflection and often superior 
to it. The Qu il mourut ! of the old Horatius, the a moi, 
Auvergne ! of the brave d Assas, are not blind impulses and 
in consequence destitute of morality; but neither is it from 
reasoning or reflection that they are borrowed by heroism. 
The phenomenon of spontaneous activity, therefore, is no 
less real than that of voluntary activity. Only, as every 
thing which is reflective is completely determined, and for 
that reason distinct, the phenomenon of voluntary and re- 



426 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

flective activity is more clear than that of spontaneous ac 
tivity, which is less determined and more obscure. More 
over, the characteristic of every voluntary act is the power 
of repeating itself at will, the power of being summoned, so 
to speak, before the tribunal of consciousness, which ex 
amines and describes it at leisure ; while on the other hand, 
as it is the characteristic of a spontaneous act that it is not 
voluntary, the spontaneous act is not repeated at will, and 
when it takes place is either unperceived or irrevocable, 
and can not be afterward summoned back but on condition 
of being reflective, that is to say, of being destroyed, as a 
spontaneous fact. Spontaneity is therefore necessarily sub 
jected to that obscurity which surrounds every thing which 
is primitive and instantaneous. 

With all our seeking, we can discover no other modes 
of action. Reflection and spontaneity comprise all the 
real forms of activity. 

Reflection as a principle and as a fact supposes and fol 
lows spontaneity ; but as there can be nothing in the Re 
flective which is not in the Spontaneous, all that we have 
said of the one will apply to the other ; and although spon 
taneity is not accompanied either with predetermination or 
deliberation, it is no less than will a real power of action, 
and consequently a productive cause, and consequently 
again, a personal cause. Spontaneity then contains alt 
that is contained by the will ; and it contains it previously 
to that, in a less determined, but purer form ; and hence 
we arrive at the immediate source of causality and of the 
me. The me already exists with the productive power 
which characterizes it in the flashing forth of spontaneity ; 
and it is in this instantaneous flashing forth that it instan 
taneously apprehends itself. We might say that it dis 
covers itself in spontaneity, and establishes itself in reflec 
tion. The me, says Fichte, posits itself in a voluntary 
determination. This point of view is that of reflection. 
In order for the me to posit itself, as Fichte says, it is 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 427 

necessary that it should clearly distinguish itself form the 
not-me. To distinguish is to deny; to distinguish one 
thing from another, is to affirm again, but by denying ; it 
is to affirm, after having denied. Now it is not true that 
the intellectual life commences with a negation ; and be 
fore reflection and the fact to the description of which 
Fichte has forever attached his name, there is another 
operation, in which the me finds itself without seeking, 
posits itself, if you please, but without having wished 
to posit itself, by the sole virtue, the peculiar energy of 
the activity, which it recognizes, as it manifests it, but 
without having previously known it ; for the activity is re 
vealed to itself only by its acts, and the first act must have 
been the effect of a power which has hitherto been igno 
rant of itself. 

What then is this power which is revealed only by its 
acts, which finds and perceives itself in spontaneity, and 
again finds and reflects upon itself in will ? 

Whether spontaneous or voluntary, all personal acts 
have this characteristic in common, that they can be re 
ferred immediately to a cause which has its point of de 
parture altogether in itself, that is to say, that they are 
free ; such is the proper notion of liberty. Liberty can 
not be confined to the will, for in that case, spontaneity 
would not be free ; and on the other hand, liberty can not 
consist merely in spontaneity, for then the will in its 
turn would not be free. If therefore the two phenom 
ena are equally free, they can be so only on the condition 
that we discard from the motion of liberty every thing 
which belongs exclusively either to one or the other of the 
two phenomena, and that we allow to it only what is com 
mon to both. Now, what circumstance is common to both 
except that they have their point of departure in them 
selves, and that they can be referred immediately to a 
cause, which is their proper cause, and which acts only by 
its own energy ? Liberty being the common characteristic 



428 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

of spontaneity and of will, comprises both these phenom 
ena in itself; it ought to possess and it consequently does 
possess something more general than either, and which 
constitutes their identity. This is the only theory of 
liberty that agrees with the different facts which are an 
nounced as free by the consciousness of the human race, 
and which in their diversities have occasioned theories in 
contradiction with each other, because they have been con 
structed exclusively for a specific order of phenomena. 
Thus, for example, the theory which concentrates liberty ii 
the will must needs admit no other than reflective liberty, 
preceded by a predetermination, accompanied with a pro 
cess of deliberation, and marked with characteristics which 
greatly reduce the number of free acts, which take away 
liberty from every thing which is not reflective, from the 
enthusiasm of the poet and artist in the moment of crea 
tion, from the ignorance which reflects but little, and 
scarcely acts otherwise than spontaneously, that is to say, 
from three quarters of the human race. Because the ex 
pression free-will implies the idea of choice, of comparison, 
and of reflection, these conditions have been imposed on 
liberty, of which free-will is only one form ; free-will is 
free-volition, that is to say, volition ; but will is so far from 
being adequate to the extent of liberty, that even language 
adds to it the epithet free, thus referring it to something 
still more general than itself. We may assert the same of 
spontaneity. Disengaged from the accompaniment more 
or less tardy of reflection, of comparison, and of delibera 
tion, spontaneity manifests liberty in a purer form, but it is 
only one form of liberty and not liberty entire ; the fun 
damental idea of liberty is that of a power which, under 
whatever form it acts, acts only by an energy peculiar to 
itself. 

If liberty is distinct from free phenomena as the char 
acteristic element of every phenomena is to be more or 
less determined, but always to be so in some degree it 



ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 429 

follows that the peculiar characteristic of liberty in its con- 
trast with free phenomena, is indetermination. Liberty 
therefore is not a form of activity, but activity in itself, the 
in determined activity, which, precisely on that account, 
determines itself in one form or another. Hence it follows, 
once more, that the me or the personal activity, sponta 
neous or reflective, represents only the determined form 
of activity, but not its essence. Liberty is the ideal of the 
me ; the me must needs constantly tend to it, without ever 
arriving at it ; it participates in it, but is not identical with 
it. The me is liberty in action, not liberty in power ; it is 
a cause, but a cause phenomenal and not substantial, rela 
tive and not absolute. The absolute me of Fichte is a 
contradiction. The very terms imply that nothing absolute 
and substantial is to be found in what is determined, that 
is to say, phenomenal. In respect to activity, substance 
then can not be found but beyond and above all phenome 
nal activity, in power not yet passed into action, in the in- 
determined essence which is capable of self-determination, 
in liberty disengaged from its forms, which limit while 
they determine it. We~arfi .thj^.jaj:iiyjadjthenjn.^the_anal- 
ysis of the .rne, by the way of psychology still, at a new 
aspect of ontology, at a substantial activity, anterior and 
superior to all phenomenal activity, which produces all the 
phenomena of activity, survives them all and renews them 
all, immortal and inexhaustible in the destruction of its 
temporary manifestations. And it is a remarkable fact, 
again, that this absolute activity, in its development, as 
sumes two forms parallel with those of reason, namely, 
spontaneity and reflection. These two elements are 
found in one sphere as well as the other, and the principle 
of both is always a substantial causality. Activity and 
reason, liberty and intelligence are therefore intimately 
combined with each other in the unity of substance. 

The last phenomenon of consciousness which we have 



430 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

not yet analyzed, sensation, would require similar develop 
ments, but the time does not admit of them. I must con 
tent myself with a few words which thinkers will compre 
hend, and which will serve at least as a touchstone for my 
future labors on the philosophy of nature. 

Sensation is a phenomenon of consciousness no less in 
contestable than either of the others ; now if this phenom 
enon is real, as no phenomenon is sufficient to itself, reason 
which acts under the law of causality and of substance 
compels us to refer the phenomenon of sensation to an ex 
isting cause ; and as this cause is evidently not the me, it is 
necessary that reason should refer sensation to another 
cause, for the action of reason is irresistible ; it refers it 
therefore to a cause foreign to the me, placed beyond the 
influence of the me, that is to say, to an external cause ; 
this is our notion of the outward world as opposed to the 
inward world which the me constitutes and fills, our notion 
of an external object as opposed to the subject which is 
personality itself, our notion of passivity as opposed to 
liberty. But let us not be deceived by the expression pass 
ivity ; for the me is not passive and can not be so, since it 
consists in free activity ; neither is the object any more 
passive, since it is made known to us only in the character 
of cause, of active force. Passivity therefore is nothing 
but a relation between two forces which act on each other. 
Vary and multiply the phenomenon of sensation, reason 
always and necessarily refers it to a cause which it success 
ively charges, in proportion to the extent of experience, 
not with the internal modifications of the subject, but with 
the objective qualities capable of producing them, that is 
to say, it develops the notion of cause, but without depart 
ing from it, for qualities are always causes, and can be 
known only as such. The external world therefore is 
nothing but an assemblage of causes corresponding to our 
real or possible sensations ; the relation of these causes 
with each other is the order of the world. The world ac- 



ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 431 

cordingly is of the same stuff with ourselves, and nature is 
the sister of man ; it is active, living, animated like him ; 
and its history is a drama no less than our own. 

Besides, as the development of the personal or human 
force takes place in consciousness, in some sort, under the 
auspices of reason, which we recognize as our law even 
when we violate it ; so the external forces are necessarily 
conceived of as submitted to laws in their development, or 
to speak more correctly, the laws of external forces are 
nothing but their mode of development, the constancy of 
which forms what we call regularity. Force in nature is 
distinct from its law, as personality in us is distinct from 
reason ; distinct, I say, and not separate ; for all force car 
ries its law with it and manifests it in its action and by its 
action. Now, all law supposes a reason, and the laws of 
the world are nothing but reason as manifested in the 
world. Here then is a new relation of man with nature. 
Nature, like humanity, is composed of laws and of forces, 
of reason and of activity ; and in this point of view, the 
two worlds are again brought closely together. 

Is there nothing further? As we have reduced the 
laws of reason and the modes of free force to two, could 
we not also attempt a reduction of the forces of nature 
and of their laws ? Could we not reduce all the regular 
modes of the action of nature to two, which in their rela 
tion with the spontaneous and the reflective action of the 
me and of reason, would exhibit a still more intimate 
harmony than that which we have just indicated between 
the internal and the external world ? It will be perceived 
that I here allude to expansion and concentration ; but so 
long as methodical labors shall not have converted these 
conjectures into certainty, I will hope and be silent ; I will 
content myself with remarking that the philosophical con 
siderations which reduce the notion of the external world 
to that of force have already gamed currency, and secretly 
preside over modern Physics. What physical inquirer, 



432 ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 

since Euler, seeks any thing in nature but forces and laws? 
Who now speaks of atoms ? And even molecules, the old 
atoms revived who defends them as any thing but an 
hypothesis ? If the fact be incontestable, if modern Phys 
ics be now employed only with forces and laws, I draw the 
rigorous conclusion from it, that the science of Physics, 
whether it know it or not, is no longer material, and that 
it became spiritual when it rejected every other method 
than observation and induction which can never lead to 
aught but forces and laws. Now what is there material 
in forces and laws ? The physical sciences then themselves 
have entered into the broad path of an enlightened Spirit 
ualism ; and they have only to march with a firm step, and 
to gain a more and more profound knowledge of forces 
and laws, in order to arrive at more important generaliza 
tions. Let us go still further. As it is a law already rec 
ognized of the same reason which governs humanity and 
nature, to refer every finite cause and every multiple law, 
that is to say, every phenomenal cause and every phenom 
enal law, to something absolute which leaves nothing to 
be sought beyond it in relation to existence, that is to say, 
to a substance ; so this law refers the external world com 
posed of forces and laws to a substance, which must needs 
be a cause in order to be the subject of the causes of this 
world, which must needs be an intelligence in order to be 
the subject of its laws, a substance, in fine, which must 
needs be the identity of activity and intelligence. We are 
thus arrived accordingly, for the second time, by observa 
tion and induction .in the external sphere, at precisely the 
same point to which observation and induction have suc 
cessively conducted us in the sphere of personality and in 
that of reason ; consciousness in its triplicity, is therefore 
one ; the physical and moral world is one, science is one, 
that is to say, in other words, God is One. 

Let us sum up these ideas, and at the same time more 
fully unfold them. 






EL.EMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 433 

In returning within our consciousness, we have seen that 
the relation of reason, of activity, and of sensation is so in 
timate, that one of these elements being given, the other 
two immediately come into exercise, and that this element 
is the free activity. Without the free activity or the me, 
consciousness does not exist, that is to say, the other two 
phenomena, whether they take place or not, are as if they 
were not, for the me which does not yet exist. Now the 
me does not exist for itself, does riot and can not perceive 
itself, but by distinguishing itself from sensation, which by 
that act is perceived, and which thus takes its place in con 
sciousness. But as the me can not perceive itself, nor 
perceive sensation except by perceiving, that is to say, by 
the intervention of reason, the necessary principle of all 
perception, of all knowledge, it follows that the exercise 
of reason is cotemporary with the exercise of personal 
activity and with sensible impressions. The triplicity of 
consciousness, the elements of which are distinct and irre 
ducible one to the other, is then resolved into a single 
fact, as the unity of consciousness exists only on condition 
of that triplicity. Moreover, if the three elementary phe 
nomena of consciousness are cotemporary, if reason im 
mediately illumines the activity which then distinguishes 
itself from sensation ; as reason is only the action of the 
two great laws of causality and of substance, it is necessary 
that reason should immediately refer the action to an in 
ternal cause and substance, namely, the me, and sensation, 
to an external cause and substance, the not-me ; but as it 
can not rest in them as causes truly substantial, both be 
cause their contingent and phenomenal character takes from 
them every claim to being absolute and substantial, and 
because as they are two, they limit each other and thus 
exclude each other from the rank of substance, it is neces 
sary that reason should refer them to a single substantial 
cause, beyond which there is nothing to be sought in rela 
tion to existence, that is to say, in respect of cause and 

19 



434 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

substance, for existence is the identity of both. The sub 
stantial and causative existence, therefore, with the two 
finite causes or substances in which it develops itself is 
made known at the same time with these two causes, with 
the differences which separate them, and the bond of na 
ture which connects them, that is to say, ontology is given 
to us at the same time in its completeness, and even at the 
same time with psychology. Thus in the first fact of con 
sciousness, the psychological unity in its triplicity is found, 
so to speak, face to face with the ontological unity in its 
paralled triplicity. The fact of consciousness which com 
prehends three internal elements reveals to us also three 
external elements. Every fact of consciousness is psychol 
ogical and ontological at once, and contains already the 
three great ideas which science afterward divides or brings 
together, but which it can not go beyond, namely, man, 
nature, and God. But man, nature, and God, as revealed 
by consciousness are not vain formulas, but facts and 
realities. Man is not in the consciousness without nature, 
nor nature without man, but both meet together in their 
opposition and their reciprocity, as causes, and as relative 
causes, the nature of which is always to develop them 
selves, and always by each other. The God of conscious 
ness is not an abstract God, a solitary monarch exiled 
beyond the limits of creation on the desert throne of a 
silent Eternity and of an absolute existence which resem 
bles even the negation of existence. He is a God at once 
true and real, at once substance and cause, always sub 
stance and always cause, being substance only in so far as 
he is cause, and cause only in so far as he is substance, 
that is to say, being absolute cause, one and many, eternity 
and time, space and number, essence and life, indivisibility 
and totality, principle, end and center, at the summit of 
Being and at its lowest degree, infinite and finite together, 
triple, in a word, that is to say, at the same time God, na 
ture, and humanity. In fact, if God be not every thing, 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 435 

he is nothing ; if he be absolutely indivisible in himself, 
he is inaccessible ; and consequently he is incomprehensi 
ble, and his incomprehensibility is for us the same as his 
destruction. Incomprehensible as a formula and in the 
school, God is clearly visible in the world which manifests 
him, for the soul which feels and possesses him. Every 
where present he returns, as it were, to himself in the con 
sciousness of man, of which he indirectly constitutes the 
mechanism and the phenomenal triplicity by the reflection 
of his own nature and of the substantial triplicity of which 
he is the absolute identity. 

Having gained these heights, philosophy becomes more 
luminous as well as more grand ; universal harmony enters 
into human thought, enlarges it, and gives it peace. The 
divorce of ontology and psychology, of speculation and ob 
servation, of science and common sense, is brought to an 
end by a method which arrives at speculation by observa 
tion, at ontology by psychology, in order then to confirm 
observation by speculation, psychology by ontology, and 
which, starting from the immediate facts of consciousness, 
of which the common sense of the human race is composed, 
derives from them the science which contains nothing more 
than common sense, but which elevates it to its purest and 
most rigid form, and Enables it to comprehend itself. But 
here I approach a fundamental point. 

If every fact of consciousness contains all the human 
faculties, sensibility, free activity, and reason, the me, the 
not-me, and their absolute identity ; and if every fact of 
consciousness be equal to itself, it follows that every man 
who has the consciousness of himself possesses and can not 
but possess all the ideas that are necessarily contained in 
consciousness. Thus every man, if he knows himself, 
knows all the rest, nature and God at the same time with 
himself. Every man believes in his own existence, every 
man therefore believes in the existence of the world and 
of God; every man thinks, every man therefore thinks 



436 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

God, if we may so express it ; every human proposition, 
reflecting the consciousness, reflects the idea of Unity and 
of Being that is essential to consciousness ; every human 
proposition therefore contains God ; every man who speaks, 
speaks of God, and every word is an act of faith and a 
hymn. Atheism is a barren formula, a negation without 
reality, an abstraction of the mind which can not assert it 
self without self-destruction ; for every assertion, even 
though negative, is a judgment which contains the idea of 
being, and, consequently, God in his fullness. Atheism is 
the illusion of a few sophists, who place their liberty in 
opposition to their reason, and are unable even to give an 
account, to themselves of what they think; but the human 
race which is never false to its consciousness, and never 
places itself in contradiction to its laws, possesses the 
knowledge of God, believes in him, and never ceases to 
proclaim him. In fact, the human race believes in reason, 
and can not but believe in it, in that reason which is mani 
fested in consciousness, in a momentary relation with the 
me the pure though faint reflection of that primitive light 
which flows from the bosom of the eternal substance, which 
is at once Substance, Cause, Intelligence. Without the 
manifestation of reason in our consciousness, there could 
be no knowledge, neither psychological, nor still less, onto- 
logical. Reason is, in some sort, the bridge between psy 
chology and ontology, between consciousness and being ; 
it rests at the same time on both ; it descends from God 
and approaches man ; it makes its appearance in the con 
sciousness, as a guest who brings intelligence of an un 
known world, of which it at once presents the idea and 
awakens the want. If reason were personal, it would have 
no value, no authority, beyond the limits of the individual 
subject. If it remained in the condition of primitive sub- 
stance, without manifestation, it would be the same for the 
me which would not know itself, as if it were not. It is 
necessary therefore that the intelligent substance should 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 437 

manifest itself; and this manifestation is the appearance 
of reason in the consciousness. Reason then is literally a 
revelation, a necessary and universal revelation, which is 
wanting to no man and which enlightens every man on his 
coming into the world : illuminat omnem hominem veni- 
entem in hunc mundum. Reason is the necessary mediator 
between God and man, the Myo$ of Pythagoras and Plato, 
the Word made flesh which serves as the interpreter of 
God and the teacher of man, divine and human at the 
same time. It is not, indeed, the Absolute God in his 
majestic individuality, but his manifestation in spirit and in 
truth ; it is not the Being of beings, but it is the revealed 
God of the human race. As God is never wanting to the 
human race and never abandons it, so the human race be 
lieves in God with an irresistible and unalterable faith, and 
this unity of faith is its own highest unity. 

If these convictions of faith be combined in every act 
of consciousness, and if consciousness be one in the whole 
human race, whence arises the prodigious diversity which 
seems to exist between man and man, and in what does 
this diversity consist ? In truth, when we appear to per 
ceive at first view so many differences between one indi 
vidual and another, one country and another, one epoch 
of humanity and another, we feel a profound emotion of 
melancholy ; and are tempted to regard an intellectual de 
velopment so capricious, and even the whole of humanity, 
as a phenomenon without consistency, without grandeur, 
and without interest. But it is demonstrated by a more 
attentive observation of facts that no man is a stranger to 
either of the three great ideas which constitute conscious 
ness, namely personality or the liberty of man, imperson 
ality or necessity of nature, and the Providence of God. 
Every man comprehends these three ideas immediately, 
because he found them at first and constantly finds them 
again within himself. The exceptions to this fact, by their 
small number, by the absurdities which they involve, by 



4^8 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

the difficulties which they create, serve only to exhibit, in 
a still clearer light, the universality of faith in the human 
race, the treasure of good sense deposited in truth, and 
the peace and happiness that there are for a human soul in 
not discarding the convictions of its kind. Leave out the 
exceptions which appear from time to time in certain crit 
ical periods of history, and you will perceive that the 
masses which alone have true existence, always and every 
where live in the same faith, of which the forms only vary. 
But the masses do not possess the secret of their convic 
tions. Truth is not science. Truth is for all ; science for 
few. All truth exists in the human race ; but the human 
race is not made up of philosophers. In fact, philosophy 
is the aristocracy of the human species. Its glory and its 
strength, like that of all true aristocracy, is not to separate 
itself from the people, but to sympathize and identify itself 
with them, to labor with them, while it places its founda 
tion in their hearts. Philosophical science is the rigorous 
account which it renders to itself of the ideas which it 
has not created. We have already shown that reflection 
supposes a previous operation to which it applies itself, 
since reflection is merely a return upon what has gone 
before. 

If there had been no prior operation, there could have 
been no voluntary repetition of this operation, that is to 
say, no reflection ; for reflection is nothing else ; it does not 
produce ; it verifies and develops. There is therefore ac 
tually nothing more in reflection than in the operation 
which precedes it, than in spontaneity ; only reflection is a 
degree of intelligence, rarer and more elevated than spon 
taneity, and with the condition, moreover, that it faithfully 
represents it, and develops without destroying it. Now in 
my opinion, humanity as a mass is spontaneous and not 
reflective ; humanity is inspired. The divine breath which 
is in it, always and every where reveals to it all truths un 
der one form or another, according to the place and time. 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 439 

The soul of humanity is a poetical soul which discovers in 
itself the secrets of beings; and gives utterance to them in 
prophetic chants which ring from age to age. At the side 
of humanity is philosophy, which listens with attention, 
gathers up its words, registers them, if we may so speak ; 
and when the moment of inspiration has passed away, pre 
sents them with reverence to the admirable artist who had 
no consciousness of his genius, and who often does not rec 
ognize his own work. Spontaneity is the genius of hu 
man nature ; reflection is the genius of a few individuals. 
The difference between reflection and spontaneity is the 
only difference possible in the identity of intelligence. I 
have proved, as I flatter myself, that this is the only real 
difference in the forms of reason, in those of activity, per 
haps even in those of life ; in history also, it is the only 
difference which separates a man from his fellow-men. 
Hence it follows that we are all penetrated with the same 
spirit, are all of the same family, children of the same 
Father, and that the brotherhood of man admits of no 
differences but such as are essential to individuality. Con 
sidered in this aspect, the differences of individuals exhibit 
something noble and interesting, because they testify to 
the independence of each of us, and separate man from 
nature. We are men and not stars ; we have movements 
that are peculiar to ourselves; but all our movements, 
however irregular in appearance, are accomplished within 
the circle of our nature, the two extremities of which are 
points essentially similar. Spontaneity is the point of de 
parture ; reflection the point of return ; the entire circum 
ference is the intellectual life ; the center is the Absolute 
Intelligence which governs and explains the whole. These 
principles possess an inexhaustible fruitfulness. Go from 
human nature to external nature, you will there find spon 
taneity under the form of expansion; reflection under that 
of concentration. Extend your view to universal exist 
ence ; external nature there performs the part of sponta- 



440 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

neity, humanity, that of reflection. In fine, in the history 
of the human species, the Oriental world represents that 
first movement, the vigorous spontaneity of which has 
furnished the race with an indestructible basis ; and the 
Pagan world, and still more the Christian, represents re 
flection which gradually develops itself, combines with 
spontaneity, decomposes and recomposes it with the lib 
erty which is its essence, while the spirit of the world 
hovers over all its forms and remains at the center ; but 
under all its forms, in every world, at all degrees of ex 
istence, physical, intellectual, or historical, the same inte 
grant elements are discovered in their variety and their 
harmony. 



III. 

PASSAGE FROM PSYCHOLOGY TO ONTOLOGY. 
[Extract from the Preface to the Second Edition of the Philosophical Fragments.] 

As soon as reason is established in its true nature and 
rightful independence, we easily recognize the legitimacy 
of its applications when it passes beyond the sphere of 
consciousness. Reason thus arrives at beings as well as 
phenomena; it reveals to us the world and God with as 
much authority as our own existence or any of its modifica 
tions ; and ontology is no less legitimate than psychology, 
because it is psychology itself which, by enlightening 
us in regard to the nature of reason, leads us to on 
tology. 

Ontology is the science of Being. It is the knowledge 
of our own existence, of the existence of the external 
world, and of God. It is reason which gives us this three 
fold knowledge on the same authority with that of the 
slightest cognition which we possess ; reason, the sole 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 441 

faculty of all .knowing, the only principle of certainty, the 
exclusive standard of the True and the False, of good and 
evil, which alone can perceive its own mistakes, correct 
itself when it is deceived, restore itself when in error, call 
itself to account, and pronounce upon itself the sentence 
of acquittal or of condemnation. And we must not imagine 
that reason waits for slow developments before it presents 
to man this threefold knowledge of himself, of the world, 
atd of God ; on the contrary, this threefold knowledge 
is given to us entirely in each of its parts, and even in 
every fact of consciousness, in the first as well as in the 
last. It is still psychology which here explains ontology, 
but a psychology to which only profound reflection can at 
tain. 

Can there be a single fact of consciousness without a 
certain degree of attention ? Let attention be impaired 
or destroyed, and our thoughts become confused, they are 
gradually lost in obscure reveries which soon vanish of 
themselves, and are for us as if they were not. Even the 
perceptions of the senses are blunted by want of attention, 
and degenerate into merely organic impressions. The or 
gan is struck, often perhaps with force ;. but the mind be 
ing elsewhere does not perceive the impression ; there is 
no sensation ; there is no consciousness. Attention there 
fore is the condition of all consciousness. 

Now is not every act of attention more or less volun 
tary ? And is not every voluntary act characterized by 
the circumstance that we consider ourselves as the cause of 
it ? And is not this cause whose effects vary while it re 
mains the same itself is not this power which is revealed 
to us only by its acts, but which is distinguished from its 
acts and which its acts do not exhaust is it not, I say, 
this cause, this force which we call I, me, our individuality, 
our personality that personality of which we aiever 
doubt, which we never confound with any other, because 
we never refer to any other those voluntary acts 

19* 



442 ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 

give us the inward feeling, the immovable conviction of its 
reality ? 

The me is then revealed to us in the character of cause, 
of force. But can this force, this cause which we are, do 
every thing which it wishes ? Does it meet with no ob 
stacles ? It meets with them of all kinds, at every mo 
ment. A sense of our feebleness is constantly united with 
that of power. A thousand impressions are at all times 
made upon us ; take away attention and they do not come 
to our consciousness ; let attention be applied to them, the 
phenomena of sensation begins. Here then, at the same 
time that I refer the act of attention to myself, as its 
cause,, I can not, for the same reason, refer to myself the 
sensation to which attention has been applied ; I can not 
do this, but I can not avoid referring it to some cause, to 
cause necessarily other than myself, that is to say, to an 
external cause, and to an external cause whose existence is 
no less certain to me than my own existence, since the 
phenomenon which suggests it to me is no less certain 
than the phenomena which suggested my own, and both 
the phenomena are presented to me with each other. 

We have here then two kinds of distinct causes. The 
one personal, placed in the very center of consciousness, 
the other external and beyond the sphere of consciousness. 
The cause which we are is evidently limited, imperfect, 
finite, since it constantly meets with bounds and obstacles 
among the variety of causes to which we necessarily refer 
the phenomena that we do not produce the phenomena 
purely affective, and not voluntary. On the other hand, 
these causes themselves are limited and finite, since we re 
sist them to a certain degree as they resist us, we limit 
their action as they limit ours, and they also mutually limit 
each other. It is reason which reveals to us these two 
kinds of causes. It is reason, which, developing itself in 
our consciousness and perceiving there at the same time 
attention and sensation, as soon as these two simultaneous 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 443 

phenomena are perceived, suggests to us immediately two 
kinds of distinct causes, but correlative and mutually 
limited, to which they must be referred. But does reason 
stop with this ? By no means. It is a fact, moreover, 
that as soon as the notion of finite, and limited causes is 
given, we can not but conceive of a superior cause, infinite 
and absolute, which is itself the first and last cause of all 
others. The internal and personal cause and external 
causes are incontestably causes in relation to their own ef 
fects ; but the same reason which reveals them to us as 
causes, reveals them as limited and relative causes, and 
thus prevents us from stopping with them as causes suffi 
cient to themselves, and compels us to refer them to a 
supreme cause, which has made them, and which sustains 
them ; which is in relation to them what they are in rela 
tion to the phenomena that are peculiar to them ; and 
which as it is the Cause of all causes, and the Being of all 
beings, is sufficient in itself, and sufficient to reason, which 
seeks and which finds nothing beyond. 

Let this fundamental point be well considered. Its con 
sequences are of the utmost importance. As the notion 
of the me is that of the cause to which we refer the phe 
nomena of volition, so the notion of the not-me is contained 
entirely in that of the cause of the sensible and involuntary 
phenomena. Now, as the being which we are and the ex 
ternal world are nothing but causes, it follows that the 
Being of beings to which we refer them is equally revealed 
to us in the character of cause. God exists for us only in 
the relation of cause ; without this, reason would not refer 
to him either humanity or the world. He is absolute sub 
stance only inasmuch as he is absolute cause, and his es 
sence consists precisely in his creative power. I should 
here require a volume in order to describe completely and 
to place in a clear light the manner in which reason ele 
vates us to the absolute cause, after having revealed to us 
the duality of the personal cause and of external causes 



4-14 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

I merely sum up in a few lines the long researches, of 
which the remains are to be seen in these Fragments, and 
the course in the Preface. It is only this course which I 
have wished to recall. 

Here is no hypothesis. We need only enter within our 
consciousness to a considerable depth it is true in order 
to find every thing which has been stated ; for once more 
to sum up this summary, there is not a single fact of con 
sciousness possible without the me ; on the other hand, 
the me can not know itself without knowing the not-me; 
neither the one nor the other can be known with the 
reciprocal limitation which characterizes them, without the 
conception more or less distinct of an infinite and absolute 
]>eing, to which they must be referred. These three ideas 
of the me or of the free personality, of the not-me or of 
nature, of their absolute cause, of their substance, or of 
God, are intimately connected with each other, and com 
pose one and the same fact of consciousness, the elements 
of which are inseparable. There is riot a man in the world 
who does not bear this fact, in all its parts, within his con 
sciousness. Hence the natural and permanent faith of the 
human race. But every man does riot give an account to 
himself of what he knows. To know, without giving an 
account of our knowledge to ourselves ; to know, and to 
give an account of our knowledge to ourselves this is the 
only possible difference between man and man, between 
the people and the philosopher. In the one, reason is 
altogether spontaneous ; it seizes at first upon its objects ; 
but without returning upon itself and demanding an ac 
count of its procedure ; in the other, reflection is added to 
reason ; but this reflection, in its most profound investiga 
tions, can not add to natural reason, a single element which 
it does not already possess ; it can add to it nothing but 
the knowledge of itself. Again, I say, reflection well- 
directed; for if it be ill-directed, it does not comprehend 
natural reason in all its parts; it leaves out some element, 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 445 

and repairs its mutilations only by arbitrary inventions. 
First, to omit, then to invent; this is the common vice 
of almost all systems of philosophy. The office of philoso 
phy is to reproduce in its scientific formulas the pure faith 
of the human race ; nothing less than this faith ; nothing 
more than this faith ; this faith alone, but this faith in all 
its parts. Its peculiar characteristic is to build ontology 
on psychology, to pass from one to the other by the aid of 
a faculty which is both psychological and ontological, sub 
jective and objective at once ; which appears in us without 
properly belonging to us ; which enlightens the shepherd 
as well as the philosopher ; which is wanting to no one and 
is sufficient for all. This faculty is reason, which from the 
bosom of consciousness extends to the Infinite, and reaches 
at length to. the Being of beings. 



w. 

REPLY TO THE CHARGE OF PANTHEISM. 
[Extract from the Preface to the Second Edition of the Philosophical Fragments.] 

It is in reply to this accusation, which has found so many 
echoes even beyond the Sensual school, that I have written 
a special dissertation on the Eleatic school, in which I fully 
explain myself, on the subject of Pantheism, its philosoph 
ical and historical origin, the principle of its errors, and 
also on that element in it which may be called good and 
even useful. 

Pantheism, properly speaking, is the ascribing of Divinity 
to the All, the grand Whole considered as God, the- Uni 
verse-God of the greater part of my adversaries, of Saint 
Simon, for example. It is in its essence a kind of genuine 
Atheism, but with which may be combined, as has been 
done, if not by Saint Simon, at least by his school, a certain 



440 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

rei gious vein, by applying to the world, without the slight- 
&* authority, those ideas of the Good and the Beautiful, 
of the Infinite and of Unity, which belong only to the 
Supreme Cause and are not to be met with in the world, 
except in so far as, like every effect, it is the manifestation 
of all the powers contained in the cause. The system op- 
pcsed to Pantheism is that of absolute Unity, so far superior 
ai d prior to the world, as to be foreign to it, and to make 
it impossible to comprehend how this unity could ever de- 
pu t from itself, and how from a principle like this, the vast 
Universe, with the variety of its forces and phenomena, 
could proceed. This latter system is the abuse of meta 
physical abstraction, as the former is the abuse of an en 
thusiastic contemplation of nature, retained, sometimes 
unconsciously, in the bonds of the senses and the imagina 
tion. These two systems are more natural than one would 
suppose, who was ignorant of the history of philosophy, 
or who had not himself passed through the different states 
of mind which produce them both. As a general rule, 
every naturalist ought to guard against the former, and 
every metaphysician against the latter. The perfection, 
but at the same time, the difficulty, is not to lose the sense 
of nature in the meditations of the school, and, in the 
presence of nature, to ascend, in spirit and in truth, to the 
invisible principle, which is at once manifested and con 
cealed by the imposing harmony of the Universe. Would 
it be thought possible that the Sensual school should bring 
against any one the accusation of Pantheism, should bring 
it against me ? To accuse me of Pantheism, is to accuse 
me of confounding the First, Absolute, Infinite Cause with 
the Universe, that is to say, with the two relative and 
finite- causes of the me and the not-me, of which the limits 
and the evident insufficiency are the foundation from which 
I rise to the knowledge of God. In truth, I did not sus 
pect that I should ever be called upon to defend myself 
from a charge like this. But if I have not confounded 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 447 

God and the world ; if my God is not the Universe-God 
of Pantheism, neither is he, I confess, the abstraction of 
Absolute Unity, the lifeless God of the scholastic theology. 
As God is made known only in so far as he is absolute 
cause, on this account, hi my opinion, he can not but pro 
duce, so that the creation ceases to be unintelligible, and 
God is no more without a world than a world without God. 
This last point has appeared to me of such great import 
ance that I have not shrunk from expressing it with all the 
strength that I possessed. " The God of consciousness is 
not an abstract God ; a solitary monarch exiled beyond the 
limits of creation on the desert throne of a silent Eternity 
and of an absolute existence which resembles even the 
negation of existence. He is a God at once true and real, 
at once substance and cause, always substance and always 
cause, being substance only in so far as he is cause, that 
is to say, being absolute cause, one and many, eternity 
and time, space and number, essence and life, indivisibil 
ity and totality, principle, end and center, at the summit 
of being and at its lowest degree, infinite and finite to 
gether." It is not a little surprising, that it is this passage 
from which it has been inferred that my system was identi 
cal with that of Spninoza and the Eleatics. There is only 
one difficulty in that inference, namely, that this passage 
is immediately directed against all metaphysical speculation 
in the spirit of Spinoza and the Eleatics. I beg pardon of 
my adversaries, but I must remind that the God of Spinoza 
and the Eleatics is a pure substance, and not a cause. In 
the system of Spinoza, creation is impossible ; in mine it is 
necessary. As to the Eleatics, they admit neither the testi 
mony of the senses nor the existence of diversity, nor that 
of any phenomenon ; and they absorb the entire Universe 
in the abyss of Absolute Unity. But let this pass. My 
adversaries have so often repeated that I was a Pantheist 
and an Eleatic a contradictory assertion that for some 



448 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

time it was taken for granted by a large part of the public, 
arid I was compelled to give a history of the Eleatic school, 
to show that I did not belong to it myself. 

[From the New Philosophical Fragments. Art. Xenophanes, p. 71 et seq.] 

Human nature raises its voice against Pantheism. All 
the talent in the world can never justify this doctrine, or 
reconcile it with the feelings of mankind. If consistent, it 
gives us, in its result, merely a sort of SOUL of the WOKLD, 
as the principle of all things ; with fatality for the only law ; 
the confounding also of good and evil that is to say their 
destruction in the depths of a vague abstract unity with* 
out any fixed subject ; for there is certainly no* absolute 
unity in any of the parts of this world taken separately. 
How then should it exist in their aggregate ? As the Ab 
solute and the Necessary can not, in any way, be derived 
from the Relative and Contingent, so also from Plurality, 
added to itself as often as you please, no generalization 
can derive Unity ; totality only is thus obtained. At 
bottom, Pantheism turns on the confusion of these two 
ideas, which are so essentially distinct. On the other 
hand, unity without plurality is no more real than plural 
ity without unity is true. An absolute unity which does 
not depart from itself, or which projects only a shadow, 
may overwhelm us with its grandeur, may transport us 
with its mysterious charm ; but it is ah 1 in vain, it does not 
enlighten the mind ; it is loudly contradicted by those 
faculties which are in* relation with this world, and which 
attest its reality, and by all our active and moral faculties, 
which would be a mockery, which woiild be an accusation 
against their author, if the theater in which they are called 
to exercise themselves were only an illusion and a snare. 
A God without a world is no less false than a world with 
out a God ; a cause without effects which manifest it, or an 
indefinite series of effects without a primary cause; a sub- 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 449 

stance which should never be developed, or a rich devel- 
opment of phenomena without a substance which sustains 
them ; reality borrowed only from the Visible or the In 
visible ; in both these extremes, there are equal error and 
equal danger, equal forgetfulness of human nature, equal 
forgetfuhiess of one of the essential sides of thought and 
of things. Between those two abysses, the good sense of 
the human race has long pursued its path ; far from sys 
tems and from schools the human race has long believed 
with equal certainty in God and in the world. It believes 
in the world as a real and permanent eifect, which it refers 
to a cause, not to an impotent and contradictory cause, 
which, forsaking its effect, would thus destroy it, but to a 
cause worthy of the name, which constantly producing and 
reproducing, deposits its strength and its beauty, without 
ever exhausting them, in its work; it believes in the 
world as an aggregate of phenomena, which would cease 
to exist the moment the eternal substance should cease to 
sustain them ; it believes in the world as the visible mani 
festation of a hidden principle which speaks to it beneath 
this vail, and which it adores in nature and in its own 
consciousness. This is what, as a mass, the human race 
believes. The glory of true philosophy would be to accept 
this universal faith, and to give a legitimate explanation 
of it. But through want of supporting itself on the human 
race, and of taking common sense for its guide, philosophy, 
hitherto, straying on the right hand and left, has fallen by 
turns into one or the other extreme of systems that are 
equally true in one relation and equally false in another ; 
and both vicious for the same reason, because they are 
equally exclusive and incomplete. This is the everlasting 
rock to which philosophy is exposed. 



450 ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 

V. 

THEORY OF REASON". FURTHER EXPLICATIONS. 

[From Cousin s Preface to M. do Biran s Considerations sur lea Rapports du 
Physique et du Moral. ] 

The psychology of the Sensual school, resolving all 
mental phenomena into sensation, results, and can result, 
in nothing but Nominalism or Materialism. 

But in addition to sensation M. de Biran has recognized 
also the will. The will constitutes an order of facts 
distinct from the facts of mere sensation, and these, by en 
riching psychology, ought to enlarge the sphere of philos 
ophy. Not only has De Biran recognized these new facts 
of consciousness, but he has put them in their true posi 
tion ; he has proved that this class of facts, so much over 
looked in the philosophy of the eighteenth century, is 
precisely the condition of the knowledge of all the others. 
He has seized and presented them under their most re 
markable type, the muscular effort, in which is irresistibly 
displayed the characteristic of the will, its productive 
energy, and the relation of cause to effect. Here then are 
two classes of facts: 1. Sensitive facts, or facts of sensa 
tion, which by themselves alone would never come under 
the view of consciousness ; 2. Active or voluntary facts, 
facts of the will, the direct and immediate apperception 
of which alone renders possible the apperception of the 
other phenomena. 

Now do these two classes of facts exhaust all the facts 
of consciousness ? M. de Biran maintains that they do. 
In my view this pretension is an illusion, a fundamental 
error, which vitiates the whole psychological system of 
Biran, and which, by making a vast chasm in it, does before 
hand enchain his whole philosophy within a circle, from 
which he can subsequently free it only by hypotheses. 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 451 

It requires no very acute observation, provided it be 
not blinded by the spirit of a previous system, to recog 
nize in the consciousness, besides the facts of sensation and 
volition, a third class also, of facts as real as the two others, 
and which are perfectly distinct from them: I mean 
rational facts strictly so called. 

That the will is the condition of the exercise of all our 
faculties, I admit as readily as M. de Biran admits that 
the senses are the condition of the exercise of the will. 
But to deny or overlook the intelligence because the intel 
ligence requires the will as the condition of its exercise, is 
certainly (I beg pardon of my ingenious and learned 
master) a vice of analysis as bad as to deny or overlook 
the will because it is linked with the sensibility. 

I say nothing in all this but what is exceedingly common 
place. All writers distinguish between the faculties of the 
understanding and the will. The greatest part of them, it 
is true, after having made the distinction in words, con 
found it in reality, or even interchange the functions of 
these two faculties in the strangest manner. For example, 
M. Laromiguiere puts preference among the functions of the 
will, when it is evidently involuntary ; and at the head of 
the functions of the understanding he places attention, 

which no less evidently belongs to the will I have 

frequently taken, in order to distinguish our different facul 
ties, the example of a man studying a mathematical book. 
Certainly if the man had no eyes he would not see the 
book, neither the pages nor the letters ; nor could he com 
prehend what he could not read. On the other hand, if 
he did not will to give his attention, to fasten his eyes to 
the reading and his attention to meditating what he read, 
he would equally fail to comprehend the book. But when 
his eyes are open, and when his mind is attentive, is every 
thing then done ? No. It is still requisite that he should 
comprehend, that he should seize (or believe that he seizes) 
the truth expressed. Now this latter fact, this recogni- 



452 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

tion of the truth, is a fact which may indeed have a vari 
ety of circumstances and conditions, but the fact in itself 
is simple, and indecomposable, and can not be resolved 
into simple volition (attention) any more than into sensa 
tion. For this reason it must have a place by itself in any 
legitimate classification of the facts which fall under the 
eye of consciousness. 

I say of consciousness ; but consciousness itself, the ap 
perception of consciousness that fundamental and per 
manent fact, which it is the error of nearly all systems to 
pretend to explain by a single term ; which Sensualism ex 
plain^ by resolving into a sensation become exclusive, with 
out inquiring what renders it exclusive ; and which M. de 
Biran explains by the will producing a sensation ; could 
that fact take place without the intervention of something 
else which is neither sensation nor volition, but which per 
ceives and knows both the one and the other ? 

To be conscious is to perceive, it is to know ; the word 
explains itself (scientia-cum) . Not only have I a sensation, 
but I know that I have ; not only do I will, but I know 
that I do : this knowledge is consciousness. Now it is ne 
cessary to prove that the will and the sensibility are en 
dowed with the faculty of self-perception, of self-knowledge, 
or it must be admitted that there is a third term without 
which the two others would be as though they had not 
been. Consciousness is a threefold phenomenon, in which 
feeling, willing, and knowing, serve as reciprocal conditions, 
and in their connection, their simultaneousness, and at the 
same time their distinction, they compose the entire intel 
lectual life. Take away the sensibility, and there is no 
longer any occasion or object for volition, which then no 
longer is exerted. Take away the will, and there is no 
longer any proper action, no longer any self, the subject of 
apperception, and therefore no longer any perceptible ob 
ject. Take away the cognitive faculty, and there is equal 
ly a destruction of all perception ; there is no light which 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 453 

exhibits what takes place, the sensation, the volition, and 
their relation ; consciousness loses its torch and ceases to 
exist. 

To know, then, is an undeniable fact, distinct from everj 
other, sui generis. 

To what faculty shall this fact be referred ? Call it un 
derstanding, mind, intelligence, reason what you will ; 
it is of little moment, provided you recognize it as an ele 
mentary faculty. It is commonly called reason. 

Very strangely M. de Biran seems not to have suspected 
that here was a class of facts entitled to particular atten 
tion. In his Memoir concerning the Decomposition of the 
Mind, and the Elementary Faculties to he recognized, he 
affirms without any proof that " the faculty of perceiving 
and that of willing, are indivisible," and that " metaphysi 
cians have been very wrong in dividing into two classes 
the understanding and the will. He admits but one single 
intellectual and moral principle distinct from the sensitiv 
ity, and that is the will, and he refuses to consider reason 
as an original faculty 

Thus this profound observer of consciousness has failed 
to see precisely that without which it would be impossible 
to see any thing. He who incessantly reproaches the Sen 
sual philosophy with mutilating the human mind, in order 
to explain it into mere sensation alone, has not perceived 
that he himself has despoiled the mind of its highest 
faculty in order to explain it into volition alone, and there 
by dried up the source of the most sublime ideas ideas 
which can not be explained by sensation, nor by volition. 



454 ELEMENTS OF PSTCHOLOGT. 



VI. 



BERKELEY AND HUME. IDEALISM AND SKEPTICISM. 
BERKELEY S IDEALISM. 

[From The History of Modern Philosophy, First Series, Vol. L Lect. VII.] 

Gone astray in the paths of abstraction Locke fell neces 
sarily into skepticism ; but he fell into it without perceiving 
it ; for Locke, as we have seen, believed in personal exist 
ence, in spite of his theory of intuitive certainty, in spite 
of his system of sensation and reflection as the sole sources 
of knowledge ; he believed in the me, but he had no right 
to believe in it, and skepticism which is not in his belief is 
in his principles ; to bring it out from them needed only 
bolder and firmer minds who dared and who knew how 
to deduce it from them. These bold minds are found. 
You will understand me as meaning to speak of Berkeley 
and of Hume. 

Reid is the first who has shown that Berkeley and 
Hume are the faithful and strict disciples of Locke, and 
that the most celebrated maxims of Hume and of Berke 
ley are necessary consequences of Locke s theory of ideas. 
But Reid was wrong in accusing Berkeley of not having 
gone as far as Hume when starting from the same princi 
ples, and of not destroying mind with equal good reason 
as he had destroyed matter. The criticism is not well 
grounded. Look at Berkeley s argument against matter. 
" We know nothing," says he, " except ideas, and we can 
ot know matter except by means of them. Now how 
can ideas make us know matter? Upon this condition 
that they represent it, that they are conformed to it." 
Berkeley, before Reid, easily destroyed the credit of this 
representation, this conformity, by proving that icreas can 
nothing but ideas, and consequently that 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 455 

in them nothing which resembles what is called matter. 
See therefore matter annihilated. The thing was so easy 
that Reid, in speaking of the theory of Berkeley, remarks 
that it needed very much less sagacity to know how to 
deduce it from the principles of Locke than courage to 
put forth in full day a doctrine so evidently contrary to 
common sense. 

Now can this reasoning be turned against the existence 
of mind ? Not the least in the world ; for Berkeley does 
not admit mind upon the faith of an idea which represents 
it and is conformed to it. It is in a very different way 
that he concludes from ideas to the mind. He recognizes 
only ideas, and these ideas have no other existence than 
the possibility of being perceived ; they are perceptions ; 
now, perceptions do not exist save in a being which per 
ceives them ; the being which perceives ideas is the mind. 

Berkeley does not deny the law which makes us con 
clude from modifications to their subject ; but he pretends 
that the modifications in question have no material sub 
ject, and that these modifications, being our own ideas, 
our own perceptions, attest to us nothing else save the per 
cipient being, to wit, ourselves. 

Nor is this all : not only is the law of substance .recog 
nized by Berkeley, but it plays so important a part in his 
doctrine that without it his whole doctrine is destroyed. 
Look at the system of Berkeley as a whole; you will see 
that it falls to pieces if the principle of substance is taken 
from it. 

We know nothing save ideas, and these ideas have no 
other existence than the possibility of being perceived ; 
now, all perception supposes two things, to wit, a perci 
pient being, and a thing perceived : it is in this twofold 
conclusion that we are to look for the whole of Berkeley. 
This twofold conclusion, which implies the principle of 
substance, involves the two great truths of Berkeley s 
philosophy, God niicl the human soul. The first conclu- 



456 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

sion gives the human mind; the second gives God. See 
how: 

There is in Berkeley a point of view which has not been 
sufficiently remarked, it is one of the most important parts 
of his philosophy : " I have nothing but ideas," says he, 
" but I do not feel myself the master of all my ideas. At 
this moment I have an idea which I did not have a little 
while ago, and which I shall not have a little while hence : 
it is in spite of myself that I come to have it ; it affects my 
mind independently of my will. It is not therefore my 
work. Far from that, it is in respect to me a mysterious 
power which acts upon me in spite of myself." 

The capital error of Berkeley is in having confounded the 
primary qualities of matter with their secondary qualities. 
ISTow, the secondary qualities of matter have no other ex 
istence for us than as unknown causes and powers which 
manifest themselves only by their effects upon us, that 
is, by our sensations ; so that when one has reduced the 
primary qualities to secondary qualities, one has reduced 
all the qualities of matter to ; be nothing but unknown 
powers. But, says Berkeley, there are no abstract powers 
in nature ; powers imply one or more beings in whom they 
reside. . Moreover, these powers which environ us and act 
upon us are in harmony with each other ; they follow con 
stant and uniform laws : they pertain therefore to one and 
the same supremely wise being. From the harmony of 
the powers which cause in us, in spite of ourselves, our 
own sensations, Berkeley concludes to the unity of a power 
ful being. See by what steps he arrives at the Divine 
being. You see that he arrives there only by means of 
the principle of substance, without which nothing has real 
existence, neither the spirit of man, nor God himself. It 
is therefore certain that the law of substance is the great 
instrument of Berkeley ; and it is singular that the Scot 
tish school should have accused Berkeley of holding gra 
tuitously to spiritual substance after having destroyed 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 457 

material substance, and of believing in it superstitiously 
against the principles of Iiis philosophy; for his whole phi 
losophy is built precisely upon the law of substance, and 
this law gives the only real beings which Berkeley recog 
nized, the soul and God. pp. 42-45. 

The Dialogue of Hylas and Philonous is nothing but a 
Treatise of the Principles of Human Knowledge in a pop 
ular form. Ideas and minds are all that there are : the 
mind of man, which is the substance of the ideas he per 
ceives and has control, of; the Divine mind, which is the 
substance and cause of the ideas which the mind of man 
perceives, but has not the control of. Lecture IX, p. 56. 

There is this difference between Plato, Berkeley and 
Malebranche, that all three refer ideas to God by the law 
of substance; but having attained to God by ideas, Plato 
and Malebranche recognize these ideas as types of things 
which exist conformably to their exemplars, while Berke 
ley stops at God and at ideas, and maintains that ideas 
can resemble nothing but ideas, and that it is absurd to 
Reek for any thing beyond them. p. 59. 



[From Lecture XX.] 

The distinction between the primary and secondary 
qualities of matter, borrowed by Locke from Descartes, 
had gained the greatest and most deserved success ; and it 
must not be dropped out of sight, that in the view of Locke, 
this distinction was strictly attached to the theory of rep 
resentative ideas as the foundation of all true knowledge 
Berkeley accepted this theory as all the world did ; but to 
the astonishment of every body, he turned it against the 
primary qualities of matter. The foundation of all the 
primary qualities is extension; extension is solidity, is im 
penetrability, is resistance. Now, is it any more possible 

20 



458 ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 

to represent resistance than an odor, a sound, a savor? 
What image can there be of resistance ? In what does 
the idea in me of something that resists resemble that 
something out of me ? Is the idea of resistance resisting ? 
Is the idea of extension extended? But if the idea of 
resistance, and of extension are neither extended nor re 
sisting, they are not then faithful images of resistance and of 
extension ; they do not then exactly represent them. There 
fore, we no more have a knowledge of the primary than 
of the secondary qualities of bodies ; and as we can know 
bodies only by their qualities, ignorance of the latter draws 
with it ignorance of the former. That which we call 
matter is therefore nothing in reality for us but the unknown 
cause of our sensations. This cause, this being whom our 
sensations reveal to us is God himself. There exists nothing 
but minds, the human mind which perceives ideas, and the 
Supreme mind which gives them to us under certain con 
ditions. Matter is therefore a chimera, and materialism 
a ridiculous hypothesis. 

This reasoning of Berkeley is invincible if we start from 
the theory of representative ideas ; and so strict thinkers 
who admitted the theory of Locke have accepted the con 
sequence of it. Collier starting from the principles of 
Locke, as did Berkeley, arrived at the same conclusion : 
and all the objections brought against Berkeley never for 
a moment staggered that man, equally sincere as ingenious, 
because all these objections left entire the foundation on 
which his idealism rested, the theory of representative 
ideas. The bond which connects that theory with idealism 
is so intimate, that, in the solitude of New Machar, Reid 
himself, before he came to doubt the one was led to adopt 
the other. This, he himself tells us in a curious passage 
in the Tenth Chapter of the Second Essay on the Intellec 
tual Faculties of Man: "If I may presume to speak my 
own sentiments, I once believed this doctrine of ideas so 
firmly as to embrace the whole of Berkeley s system in con- 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 459 

sequence of it ; till finding other consequences to follow 
from it which gave me more uneasiness than the want of 
a material world, it came into my mind, more than forty 
years ago, to put the question : What evidence have I for 
this doctrine, that all the objects of my knowledge are 
ideas in my own mind ? From that time to the present I 
have been candidly and impartially, as I think, seeking for 
tho evidence of this principle, but can find none except the 
authority of philosophers." Hist. Mod. Phil., First Series, 
Vol. IV. p. 358-360. 



HUME S SKEPTICISM. 
[From The History of Modern Philosophy, First Series, Lecture X.J 

Locke is the first who submitted the question concerning 
substance to the theory of ideas ; and that theory, de 
structive as it is to all reality, is more particularly so here. 
For should we even have an idea of substance, it would 
remain always to deduce from the idea the reality of its 
object ; and that has been demonstrated to be impossible. 
But this powerless idea, we do not even have it, according 
to Locke, since it is not given either by sensation or by 
reflection. Locke, nevertheless, believes in substance, and 
in spite of his system and of all the laws of the most 
ordinary logic, from contradiction to contradiction, start 
ing from the doctrine of ideas, he comes calmly out to the 
me and to matter. 

But not all the world is so fortunate or so inconsistent. 
Berkeley takes up the arms fallen from the hand of Locke. 
Berkeley encounters on his path the theory of ideas and 
takes possession of it ; he rejects one part of it, and ac 
cepts the other part which suffices for him to destroy the 
reality of matter. 

There are in fact two parts in the theory of ideas : the 
first, that we perceive nothing immediately except ideas ; 



460 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

the second, that where there is an idea, and only there, 
can there be knowledge. Berkeley adopts the first part 
of this theory : he demonstrates perfectly that an idea is 
an idea, that it can resemble nothing but an idea, that it 
has no object back of it, that it is absurd to admit the 
hypothesis of an object which we do not see, when nature 
gives us nothing immediately but an idea. But Berkeley 
does not admit the second part of Locke s doctrine, that 
all our cognitions are ideas. According to Locke and to 
Berkeley sensation and reflection are the two only ways 
by which ideas can be introduced into the understanding ; 
but Berkeley maintains that there are cognitions out of the 
sphere of ideas ; besides sensation and reflection, he admits, 
somewhat confusedly perhaps, the principle of substance, 
which reveals to him the real existence of spirits, that of 
the human mind and that of the Divine mind. 

Here certainly is a considerable fragment fallen loose from 
the doctrine of Locke. But another fragment still is about 
to fall away, the destruction is about to become complete. 
To effect this, the first part of Locke s doctrine must be 
united to the second part which Berkeley had separated. 
It will be enough to re-establish the other principle of the 
theory of ideas, namely, that not only are ideas the proper 
and immediate object of our knowledge, but that they are 
also its limit. Now, if all the cognitions which we can ob 
tain are ideas, it is evident that we must renounce forever 
the knowledge of substance ; for, as we have seen, there is 
no idea of substance. It is upon these two parts of the 
theory of ideas, thus brought together, that HUME raised 
his arguments and shattered all reality. 

The doctrine of Hume is contained in his Treatise of 
Human Nature, a work which seems written by the very 
genius of destruction. It was published at London in 
1739 

Take your position exactly on the principle of Hurao, if 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 461 

you would see all the consequences which flow from it, 
There, where there is an idea, and only there, can there be 
knowledge. This is a principle common to Locke and to 
Hume : only Hume makes here an important modification 
of the doctrine of Locke. 

According to Hume, the idea is derived from a sensible 
impression, more striking, more vivid, of which the idea is 
the result, and, as it were, the reflection : this is the later 
system of Condillac. If therefore we can have any knowl 
edge of substance, it is because there is in the understand 
ing the idea of substance, and because there has been 
previously an impression of substance : 

" There are," says Hume ( Treatise of Human Nature, 
Works, Vol. I. p. 310), "some philosophers who imagine 
we are every moment intimately conscious of what we call 
our self / that we feel its existence, and its continuance in 

existence Unluckily, all these positive assertions 

are contrary to the very experience which is pleaded for 
them; nor have we any idea of self after the manner it is 
here explained. For, from what impression could this 
idea be derived ? This question it is impossible to answer 
without a manifest contradiction and absurdity ; and yet 
it is a question which must necessarily be answered if we 
would have the idea of self pass for clear and intelligible. 
It must be some one impression that gives rise to every 
real idea [that is to say, to every idea which has a real 
object]. But self or person is not any one impression, but 
that to which our several impressions and ideas are sup 
posed to have a reference. If any impression gives rise to 
the idea of self, that impression must continue invariably 
the same, through the whole course of our lives ; since self 
is supposed to exist after that manner. But there is no 
impression constant and invariable. Pain and pleasure, 
grief and joy, passions and sensations succeed each other, 
and never all exist at the same time. It can not therefore 
be from any of these impressions, nor from any other, that 



462 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

the idea of self is derived, and consequently there is no 
such idea." 

On the hypothesis of Locke, the arguments of Hume 
against the existence of mind and of the me, are as clear, 
as decisive and as unanswerable as those of Berkeley against 
matter. Hume accordingly is no more in doubt than 
Berkeley, and he has the confident tone of a man profound 
ly convinced : 

" For my part, when I enter most intimately into what 
I call myself, I always stumble on some particular percep 
tion or other, of heat or cold, light or shade, love or hatred, 
pain or pleasure. I never catch myself at any time with 
out a perception, I never can observe any thing but the 
perception. When my perceptions are removed for any 
time, as by sound sleep, so long am I insensible of myself 

and may truly be said not to exist If any one, 

upon serious and unprejudiced reflection, thinks he has a 
different notion of himself, I must confess I can reason no 
longer with him. All I can allow him is that he may be in 
the right as well as I, and that we are essentially different 
in this particular. He may perhaps perceive something 
simple and continued, which he calls himself \ though I am 
certain there is no such principle in me." 

Hume treats, we see, at the same time the question of 
the me and of that of the identity of the me, the second, a 
very important question, which we have only glanced at 
and to which we shall hereafter return. 

From his point of view Hume is in the right. I have 
myself demonstrated before entering upon the discussion of 
the opinions of philosophers, thatuJmmateiiaUsulistance 
falls not underjthe cycj)f consciousness, and that as soon 
as consciousness is made the sole judge^ that is, when all 
cognitions are assimilated to consciou sn ess, substan ce is ir 
retrievably destroyed?" 

Nevertheless, whatever the force of his arguments, 
Hume feels himself that there must rest at the bottom of 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 463 

the heart a secret tendency to believe ourselves something 
real, and he proceeds of his own accord to meet the objec 
tions which might be made to him, that the belief in the 
reality of substance is a universal belief of the human race. 
It is a delusion, says Hume ; this belief is only a refined 
speculation of the metaphysicians : 

"I venture to affirm of the jest, of mankind that they 
.re nothing but a bundle or collection of different percep- 
sj which succeed each other with an inconceivable 

rapidity, and are in perpetual flux and movement 

The mind is a kind of theater, where several perceptions 
successively make their appearance, pass and repass, glide 
away and mingle in an infinite variety of postures and situ 
ations The comparison of the theater must not 

mislead us. They are the successive perceptions only that 
constitute the mind ; nor have we the most distant notion 
of the place where these scenes are represented, or of the 
materials of which it is composed." p. 313. 

Now even if it should be admitted with Hume, that the 
belief in the me is not a firm and universal belief of the 
human race, it must at least be admitted to be an opinion, 
and this opinion must, like all others, have its sufficient rea 
son. What is the reason then that has caused this notion 
of a substance to be imagined ? Here it is, according to 
Hume : we must distinguish between real identity and 
imaginary identity. When we see an object remain the 
same at different times, we form the idea of^sameness^s^. 
identity. Then, when this idea is once formed, we trans 
fer it elsewhere at the call of the imagination. When we 
see different objects bound together by a strict relation, it 
seems to us tlint we contemplate the same object;, the easy 
passage from one to the other deludes the imagination and 
makes it suppose there is identity where there is only re- 
semblance. When we are willing to make use of our 
reason, we recognize the illusion of this identity ; but in 
the long run, the charm becomes so strong that it is diffi- 



4(>4 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

cult to break it, and the reason is made captive in spite of 
itself. "Unable to dissipate it without doing violence to 
our habits, we find it more convenient to justify it by met 
aphysical subtleties : hence the invention of a substance, a 
me, a soul. 

Thus Hume resolves the me into an illusion of the imagi- 
rLfl.t,if>n WP> will not stop to combat him. We have dis 
tinguished the arbitrary associations of the 
from the necessary laws of the intelligence. We 
shown how the imagination proceeds and how the under 
standing proceeds. The imagination is capricious and 
changes its creations at pleasure, while here it is impossible 
for me not tcTrefer qualities to a subject; there is there 
fore a principle independent of the imagination, which 
compels me to attribute every quality to a subject, and my 
ideas to a subject which is myself. 

I do not go on to develop this answer : it seems to me 
useless to reply to a philosopher who has dared resolve 
the universal and necessary belief of the human race into 
a ridiculous illusion ; and so I have brought before you the 
opinion of Hume only in order to make you apprehend 
the rigorous consequences of the theory of ideas. But the 
argumentation of Hume is not exhausted. In the fifth chap 
ter of the work under examination, he institutes a profound 
Discussion on the immateriality of the soul, of which some 
account should be given, in order that you may know the 
whole system which Hume has drawn from the principles 
of Locke. 

. First he inquires whether it is possible for the me to 
have existence, and this is the way he replies : 

" This question [what is a substance] we have found_im- 
possible to be answered with regard to matter and body ; 
hut besides that in the case of mind it labors under all 
the same difficulties, it is burdened with some additional 
ones which are peculiar to that subject. As_^ee*y 
idea is derived from a precedent impression, hadjve any 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 465 

idea of the substance of our mind, we must also have an 
impression of it^which is very difficult if not impossible to 

be conceived. For how can an impression represent a sub 
stance otherwise than by resembling it ? And how can an 
impression resemble a substance, since according to this 
philosophy it is not a substance, and has none of the pecu 
liar qualities or characteristics of a substance." P. 288- 
290. 

This argument of Hume is invincible on the ground of 
Locke s theory. 

" But leaving the question of what may or may not be, 
for that other, what actually is, I desire those philosophers 
who pretend that we have an idea of the substance of our 
minds, to point out the impression that produces it, and 
tell distinctly after what manner that impression operates, 
and from what object it is derived. Is it an impression of 
sensation or reflection ? Is it pleasant or painful, or indif 
ferent ? Does it attend us at all times, or does it only re 
turn at intervals ? If at intervals, at what times princi 
pally does it return, and by what cause is it produced ?" 

Analysis being unable to discover any idea, any im 
pression of substance, Hume proceeds^ seek for substance 
by another method, that of definitions. 

" If instead of answering these questions, any one should 
seek to evade the difficulty by saying that the definition 
of a substance is something which may exist by itself, and 
that this definition ought to satisfy us, I should observe 
that this definition agrees to every thing that can possibly 
be conceived, and never will serve to distinguish substance 
from accident, or the soul from its perceptions. For this 
reason : whatever is clearly conceived may exist ; and 
whatever is clearly conceived after any manner may exist 
after the same manner. This is one principle which has 
been already acknowledged. Again, every thing different 
is distinguishable ; every thing distinguishable is separable 
by the imagination. This is another principle. My con- 

20* 



406 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

elusion from both is, that since all our perceptions are 
different from each other and from every thing else in the 
universe, they are also distinct and separable, and may be 
considered as separately existent, and may exist separately, 
and have no need of any thing else to support their exist 
ence. They [our perceptions] are therefore substances, so 
far as this definition explains a substance. P. 290. 

If the experimental method and the method of defini 
tions can not give substance, it must absolutely be re 
nounced : substance is a chimera. Thus, after having 
proved this, Hume laughs at all further inquiries concern 
ing the materiality or immateriality of the soul. The me 
is neither spirit nor matter, for there is no me 

It is then certain, according to Hume, that is, according 
to Locke, for here Locke is responsible for the legitimate 
consequences which Hume draws from his principles ; it is, 
I say, certain, that there exists neither spirit nor matter, 
that there exists only ideas without object, without sub 
ject, without real connection, vain shadows which the 
imagination alone holds suspended, so to say, over the 
abyss of universal nothingness. 

[History of Modern Philosophy, First Series, Vol. IV. Lect. XX.] 

The other consequence of the theory of representative 
ideas, more distasteful to Reid than Berkeley s idealism, 
was HUME S skepticism. With the idealism of Berkeley we 
infallibly avoid materialism, we preserve our faith in the 
existence of mind, the subject of all our ideas, and in the 
existence of God, the first cause of all these ideas, and of 
our mind itself. Hume comes forward to annihilate all 
these convictions, and destroys mind by the same right 
that Berkeley had destroyed matter as to its primary qual 
ities, and that Locke had robbed us of the knowledge of 
its secondary qualities. If none of our ideas resemble or 
can resemble a material object, extended, figured, etc., 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 467 

much less can any idea, whatever it be, resemble a spirit 
ual being, for that would imply that a spiritual being can 
be represented ; any representation that might be formed 
of it would be only a product of the imagination, a pure 
chimera. The mind is said to be the cause and substance 
of our ideas ; but there is neither cause nor substance, for 
they can not either of them be represented. The senses 
attest to us and represent to us very readily a succession 
of motions, but not the pretended force which produces 
them. Sight and touch show us the motion of a particular 
ball, then a motion in another particular ball : but that the 
motion of the first ball was the cause of the motion of the 
second ; that there was in the first a power which really 
acted upon the second the senses show me nothing like 
this, and we have no true knowledge of any such power, 
since we have no idea either of sensation or reflection 
which is conformed to it. It is just so in regard to sub 
stance in general, and particularly the substance which we 
ourselves are. 

Consciousness, aided by memory, attests to us the pres 
ence and the succession of some sensation, some judgment, 
some process of reasoning, in a word, of some idea, some 
phenomenon : but as to the pretended substratum of all this, 
consciousness has never perceived it and can not represent 
it. At any moment, says Hume, when I observe what 
passes within me, my consciousness and my reflection are 
of such or such phenomena, never of their pretended sub 
ject of inherence. The idea of substance therefore is not 
a true idea, since its object eludes all grasp and all repre 
sentation. If there is no substance of our faculties and 
our ideas, a fortiori there is no such substance as is one 
and identical ; there is therefore no room for the inquiry 
whether this substance be material or spiritual. As there 
is no real and determinate idea which represents that un 
known thing which men call matter, so there is still less 
any real and determinate idea which icpresents that other 



468 ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 

unknown thing which men call spirit. Matter is in reality 
nothing else than the succession of external phenomena at 
tested by the senses. Spirit, or mind, is nothing else than 
the succession of internal phenomena attested by conscious 
ness. The mind is the bond which we imagine between 
these latter phenomena ; this is all the substratum there is : 
this substratum is a word. It is absurd to inquire whether 
this imaginary subject is or is not endowed with immortal 
ity. It is equally absurd to inquire whether beyond all 
phenomena there is a time or a space which we can not 
represent to ourselves or which we do represent to our 
selves only on condition of reducing them to a series more 
or less considerable of phenomena external or internal. It 
is more absurd still to inquire whether there is or is not a 
primary cause and substance, since no cause and no sub 
stance are really known to us. 

You see the whole skepticism of Hume unfolded : he 
leaves nothing subsisting but pure phenomena, sensations 
which can represent no object, and ideas which follow each 
other without any real subject whose destiny can be a mat 
ter of interest to us. Knowledge depending only on ideas, 
its sole law is that of the association of ideas. Ideas 
Diversely associated produce diverse effects. The group 
of ideas associated in our own way makes us believe that 
they have causes out of us : from hence objects, bodies. 
Another group of ideas makes us believe that they have a 
subject, a substance which sustains them : from hence the 
soul, the me. Another association of ideas inclines us to 
think that this me is free ; and so on. We do right to be 
lieve all these things, because we obey the law of the as 
sociation of ideas which is our supreme law. But if these 
beliefs suffice for the mass, the philosopher should at least 
explain the play of ideas particular or general, combining 
them according to certain relations, whether mankind ever 
pass out of the compass of them. 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 46U 

This absolute skepticism was as inevitable as the ideal 
ism of Berkeley, provided the theory of representative 
ideas as the condition of all knowledge be admitted. Reid, 
who had been able to consent for a little while to the ideal 
ism of Berkeley, resisted with all the powers of his soul 
the skepticism of Hume. Now, there was no other way 
for him to escape it except by calling in question the 
theory of representative ideas, in which, in common with 
his whole age, he had been nurtured and brought up. 



VII. 



IDEA OF A SYSTEM OF METAPHYSICS. 

[Programme of a Course of Philosophy, 1817. From the Philosophical Fragments.] 
DIVISION AND CLASSIFICATION OF METAPHYSICAL QUESTIONS 

Division. 

All metaphysical questions are contained in the three 
following : 

1. What are the actual characteristics of human cog 
nitions in the developed intelligence ? 

2. What is their origin, what are their primitive charac 
teristics ? 

3. What is their validity and legitimacy ? 

The questions concerning the actual state and the primi 
tive state of human knowledge, regard it as in the human 
mind, in the subject where it resides. It is the subjective 
point of view. 

The question concerning the validity of human knowl* 
edge regards it in relation to its objects, that is, in an ob 
jective point of view. 



470 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

Classification. 

1. We shoud treat the actual before the primitive, for 
in commencing with the primitive we might obtain noth 
ing but a false primitive, which would give only an 
hypothetical actual, whose legitimacy would be that of an 
hypothesis. 

2. We should treat the actual and the primitive before 
the legitimate ; for the questions concerning the actual and 
the primitive pertain to the subjective system, those con 
cerning the legitimate to the objective system, and we can 
not know the objective before the subjective ; in fact it is 
in the internal, by and with the internal, that we conceive 
the external. 

All our objective cognitions being facts of consciousness, 
phenomena, we give the title of Psychology or PJwnomr 
enology, to the science of the subjective, primitive and 
actual. 

The study of our objective cognitions considered in re 
lation to their objects, that is to say to real external exist 
ences, is called Ontology. Every thing objective is tran* 
scendental in its relation to consciousness, and the apprecia 
tion of the legitimacy of the principles by which we attain 
the objective is called Transcendental Logic. 

The whole science bears the name of METAPHYSICS. 

SYSTEM OP THE SUBJECTIVE PSYCHOLOGY OK PHENOM 
ENOLOGY. 

OF TPIE ACTUAL AND THE PRIMITIVE. 

Of the Actual. 

Of the psychological method, or of internal observation. 

Of the division and classification of human cognitions, 

according to the distinction of their actual characteristics. 

Vices of many of the classifications. True classifica- 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 471 

tion : distinction of human cognitions according to their 
characteristics of contingence or of necessity. 

Theory of contingent principles. It is necessary to 
range under the class of contingent principles, those prin 
ciples which force belief, though without implying a contra 
diction [in the denial of them], and which are therefore 
not necessary, but irresistible natural beliefs, actual and 
primitive, instinctive ; such as the belief in the stability of 
the laws of nature, the perception of extension, etc., etc. 

Theory of principles truly contingent, neither necessary 
nor irresistible, but solely general. 

System of Empiricism ; of analysis, and its office. Refu 
tation of Empiricism beyond the limits of the contingent. 

Theory of necessary principles. Of the characteristics 
which accompany that of necessity. That every necessary 
principle is a synthesis. Of synthesis opposed to analysis, 
and distinguished from identity. 

Questions concerning the enumeration of necessary judg 
ments. Difficulty of the enumeration. That it has not 
been attempted by any philosopher before the eighteenth 
century. Leibnitz and Malebranche distinguish necessary 
truths from contingent truths, but without describing noi 
enumerating them. 

HISTORICAL PART. 
CRITICAL PHILOSOPHY OF THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. 

Held and Kant. 

Exposition of the doctrine of Reid, concerning necessary 
truths or first principles. Constituent laws of the human 
mind. 

By his own admission, Reid has not exhausted them. 

Kant. Exposition of the Kantian necessary principles : 
the forms of the sensibility ; the categories of the Under- 
standing and of the Reason. 



472 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

A complete list is not attempted in this course, but the 
attempt is made to describe with exactness the actual 
characteristics of the following principles : 

Principle of substance thus announced: every quality 
supposes a subject, a real being. 

Principle of unity : all plurality supposes unity. 

Principle of causality: every thing which begins to exist, 
has a cause. 

Principle of final causes : every means supposes an end. 

Of the Primitive. 

Of the order of the deduction of human cognitions, and 
of the order of their acquisition ; of the rational or logical 
order, and of the chronological or psychological order. 

A knowledge is anterior to another in the logical order, 
in as far as it authorizes the other ; it is then its logical 
antecedent. 

A knowledge is anterior to another, in the psychological 
order, in as far as it springs up before the other in the 
human mind ; it is then its psychological antecedent. 

Hence the twofold sense of the word primitive; a 
knowledge may be primitive either logically, or psycho 
logically. 

This being laid down, we are to examine whether our 
actual cognitions, both contingent and necessary, are prim 
itive, either logically or psychologically ; and if they are 
not, to ascertain the antecedents, logical or psychological, 
which they suppose. 

The Logical Primitive. 

Contingent empirical judgments have a logical prim 
itive ; the certainty of a general principle rests upon that 
of the determinate individual facts of which it is the 
generalization. 

On the contrary, contingent, not-empirical judgments, 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 473 

and necessary judgments, have not, and can not have a 
logical antecedent ; no individual fact being sufficient to 
ground either the necessary, or the irresistible. 

Psychological Primitive. 

Both orders of contingent general judgments have their 
psychological primitive in a determinate individual fact. 

Necessary judgments have also their determinate indi 
vidual psychological primitive; for nothing is originally 
given us under a pure and universal type ; but every 
primitive is individual and determinate ; now, every psy 
chological primitive being a determinate individual fact, 
and every individual fact being a fact of the ME, it is in the 
self, that is, in the modifications and individual determina 
tions of the self, perceived by consciousness, that we find 
the psychological origin of all our knowledge. The ME, 
the center of the sphere of intelligence. 

But there is this difference between the primitive of an 
empirical contingent principle, and that of a necessary 
principle that the one has need of new individual determ 
inate facts more or less similar, and never identical, since 
they are all individual and determinate, in order to en 
gender the contingent general principle, which is nothing 
else than the comparative result of a certain number of in 
dividual differences ; while, to engender the necessary 
principle, the determinate individual fact, which serves as 
its psychological antecedent, has no need of new facts, but 
already contains the principle whole and entire. In a 
word, contingent principles have their psychological prim 
itive, the multiple in a succession of individual facts com 
pared. Necessary principles have their psychological 
primitive in a single determinate fact. 

The knot of the difficulty and of the apparent contradic 
tion which here presents itself, is in the truth, which is the 
basis of the intellectual system, to wit, that every individ 
ual fact is a concrete, composed of two parts, of which the 



474 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

first is eminently individual and determined in itself; and 
the second, individual and determinate in its contact with 
the first, is, nevertheless, considered in itself, neither indi 
vidual nor determinate. 

Example. 

The energy of my will produces an internal movement* 
which it is not necessary here to describe with precision. 

This fact, individual and determinate in its totality, 
resolves itself finally into two elements very distinct : first 
an individual determinate will, that of myself; an indi 
vidual determinate movement whose intensity is in pro 
portion to that of the will, and depends upon it ; second, 
a relation of the movement produced, to the producing 
will. 

The first part of this fact, which embraces the deter- 
minateness of the effect and the cause, is personal and rel 
ative to the self; it varies with its two terms. It is the 
empirical part of the fact. When comparative abstraction 
collects under one point of view the successive differences 
of this empirical part, it composes from them a general 
idea, and the possibility for us of now applying this gen 
eral idea to a certain number of particular cases, consti 
tutes the actual contingent knowledge which we call a 
contingent general principle. 

But the second part of the fact, that is to say, the rela 
tion of such or such a determinate cause to such or such a 
determinate effect, although individualized in the former 
part, is yet distinct from it. Vary the terms, the relation 
remains the same. Abstract all the individuality of the 
cause and of the effect; yet the relation of cause and 
effect remains in the mind. This second part of the fact 
is the absolute part of it. 

* [Movement taken metaphorically, without relation to place, a work 
ing, internal effect, here of the will, and equivalent to volition. TB.] 



ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 475 

Now, the moment the concrete and individual appear 
in my consciousness, I am not free to make or not to 
make an abstraction of its individuality ; this abstraction 
is made necessarily and independently of my will, and I 
have the notion of the relation of cause to effect.* 

This relation, which was contingent in the concrete, 
because it was attached to a determinate and therefore 
contingent cause and effect, is no sooner separated by ab 
straction from that concrete, than it appears to me absolute 
and necessary. 

As soon as I have the notion of the necessary relation 
of cause to effect, I have the actual necessary knowledge : 
that every fact which begins to exist has a cause ; I have 
the principle of causality, which is nothing else than the 
impossibility of not applying to all possible cases the 
notion obtained by abstraction from individuality in the 
concrete. 

This abstraction is not the same with that which, in the 
formation of contingent general knowledge, gives me a 
general idea ; this latter proceeds by the aid of comparison 
and generalization ; it is comparative abstraction ; the 
other proceeds by simple separation, and we therefore call 
it immediate abstraction. 

The process of immediate abstraction operates only 
upon a single fact (at least it does not appear that the 
second gives any thing more than the firstf) and takes 

* [By the necessity of my intellectual structure I have it, as a rela 
tion independent of that particular movement or phenomenon of con 
sciousness, by occasion of which the understanding in virtue of its own 
proper activity and by its own laws, was led to conceive the principle 
of causality, as universal, necessary, and applicable to every possible 
movement and change. TR.] 

f [That is to illustrate still by the notion of cause in the first in- 
stance of a change observed by consciousness, the mind as necessarily 
conceives the notion of cause, of the relation of cause to the effect, as 
in the second or the thousandth instance ; and in the second or the 
thousandth instance the mind can do nothing more than apply the same 



476 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

place inevitably ; while the other has need of many facts 
in order to take place, its conditions of action, its limits, 
its progressive development and finally, is voluntary. 
He who does not wish to compare will never generalize. 
This synthesis is arbitrary ; the other is necessitated. 

Such is the origin and mode of development of all actual 
cognitions. 

TABLE OF THE CONTINGENT AND NECESSAEY. 

CONTINGENT. NECESSARY. 

1. Psychological Primitive. 1. Psychological Primitive. 

Individual fact. Matter of the Individual feet. Concrete coin- 
concrete. Succession of several posed of an individual empirical 
individual facts. part and of an absolute part. No 

succession. 

Process. Abstraction, compari- Process. Immediate abstraction. 
son, generalization. Elimination of the empirical 

part, arid disengagement of the 
absolute. 

Result. General idea. Result. Pure notion of the ab 

solute. 

2. The Actual 2. The Actual 

Possibility of applying the gen- Impossibility of not applying the 
oral idea to a certain number of notion to all cases, or necessary 
cases, or general principle. absolute principle. 

Contingent not-empirical principles are obtained by the 
same process as necessary principles ; the only difference 

principle. Though this necessary process of the mind becomes clear 
to consciousness only by reflection, yet it is as actually a necessary 
process in the first as in the thousandth case; it is a necessary and 
universal law of the mind which acts in the first case as in the last ; 
and its necessity and universality do not depend upon, and are not the 
result of many particular facts; while those contingent general concep 
tions which depend upon comparison and generalization, require several 
observations, and derive their extension and comparative universality 
from them. "What is thus true of the principle of causality the rela 
tion of ause to effect, as a necessary and universal law, given by im- 
mediate abstraction in a single concrete fact, is true of all other necessary 
irinciples. TR.] 



ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 477 

is in the results. We do not obtain the absolute nor the 
necessary in itself, but the irresistible. 

We shall not endeavor to determine strictly the number 
and order of actual necessary principles, nor the origin of 
all those principles, nor their dependence, nor the different 
faculties to whose exercise they are attached. 

Nor shall we attempt to describe the primitive internal 
facts with all the circumstances which accompany them. 

Nevertheless we shall attempt to recognize the origin 
of the necessary principles of substance, of unity, of caus 
ality, and of final causes, because we particularly describe 
the actual characteristics of these principles, and because 
they embrace and constitute all intellectual life. 

PRIMITIVE INTERNAL FACTS. 

1. Affection or volition and in Eliminations of the modification 
general a determinate modifica- and of the ME. Disengagement of 
tion. Relation. The ME. the absolute relation of attribute to 

subject. 

2. Succession of passions or vo- Elimination of the determinate 
litions and in general determin- plurality, and of the ME identical 
ate plurality. Relation. The ME and one. Disengagement of the 
identical and one. absolute relation of plurality to 

unity, of succession to duration. 

3. Voluntary fact and in gene- Elimination of the determinate 
ral determinate effect willed. effect willed and of the ME. Dis- 
Relation. Power and Willing of engagement of the absolute rela- 
the ME. tion of cause to effect. 

4. Intentional volition, and in Elimination of the means and of 
general determinate direction of the end determinate. Disengago- 
the voluntary power, that is to ment of the absolute relation of 
say, a determinate means. Rela- means to end. 

tion. Determinate End. 

The principle of identity is connected with the principle 
of substance, as the principle of intentionality with that of 
causality. 

These two orders of principles have a primitive differ 
ence which consists in this, that the relation which con 
nects the determinate effect to the determinate cause, the 
determinate end to the; determinate means, is a percep 
tion of consciousness, while the relation which connects 



478 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

the determinate modification to the me, the determinate 
being, is not a perception of consciousness, but an instinct 
ive manifestation of the principle of substance in the con 
sciousness; and so, also, the relation which connects the 
me identical and one to the determinate succession and 
plurality, is not a perception of the consciousness, but an 
instinctive manifestation of the necessary principle of unity 
in the memory. 

The absolute, being before us, governs us primitively, in 
the original action of the mind (though without appearing 
to us primitively under its pure form), and forces us to 
conceive at once, under any determinate quality, a deter 
minate being, which is the me ; a natural hypothesis.* But 
as soon as the relation has been suggested to us by the force 
of the absolute in a determinate primitive concrete, of 
which the self, the me, is one of the terms, it disengages 
itself from the me, and appears to us under its pure form, 
and in its universal evidence which explains and legitimates 
the primitive hypothesis. It is the same in regard to the 
manifestation of the identity of self by the principle of 
unity in the memory. 

The primitive manifestation of the existence of the me, 
and of its duration in consciousness and memory by the 
absolute principles of substance and of unity, is the primi 
tive bond or link which connects ontology to psychology, 
and the first light which illuminates and discloses the ob 
jective in the subjective. 

OBJECTIVE SYSTEM. 

Ontology and Logic. 

External objects of knowledge ; means by which wo at 
tain them ; legitimacy of those means. 

[ Y7Ton$j7/zi, suppono, to place under as a support, to take as the 
ground: viro&eoic, supposition, placing under as the ground of the phe> 
nomenal, Ta.] 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 479 

THE SOUL, MATTER, AND GOD. 

2he Soul. 

The soul or the real substantial me [not merely the phe 
nomenal self, the me of consciousness] is objective ; for it 
does not fall under the eye of consciousness. Examination 
of the opinion which makes the me a phenomenon or a suc 
cession of phenomena. 

The knowledge of the soul or of the real substantial 
me is the result of the application of the principle of sub 
stance. 

Application primitive and not logical, which gives a be 
ing determinate, and real, the me ; a primitive fact made 
up; 1, of an individual modification: 2, of a me, and 
3, of a relation individualized in its terms, but which dis 
covers to us a fundamental and essential relation between 
every modification and every being, by a disengagement 
of the absolute. Thus the adequate knowledge of the 
absolute principle gives us a knowledge of the me, as an 
objective substance. 

The soul is a complex word which comprises, both the 
determinate real substantial me, the knowledge of which, 
without being an apperception of consciousness, is a prim 
itive conception, psychological and ontological and the 
substance of the me, which, considered in itself and not as 
in any particular individual, is an ulterior and purely on 
tological conception. 

The self is the part of the objective sphere which mani 
fests itself to us the first. It is the first step that we take 
beyond our consciousness. 

Identity and unity of the Soul, [the substantial ME.] 

Manifested by a judgment of the memory, as the me by 
a judgment of consciousness 

Opinion which makes the identity and unity of the me 
a perception of the consciousness, examined. 



480 ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 

The judgment of [personal] identity disengages and 
brings out the absolute relation of plurality to unity, of 
succession to duration. Distinction between a primitive 
judgment conformed to the natural laws of all judgment, 
and a logical judgment starting from a logical and indeterm 
inate principle, in order to arrive at a logical and inde 
terminate consequence. 

Matter. 

Two principles manifest it to us. 

The principle of causality and of intentional causality 
obtained in a primitive fact of consciousness, and become 
an absolute principle makes us conceive in certain cases 
external intentional causes. The intervention of percep 
tion, Avhich is not a principle, but an instinctive judgment, 
manifests to us, so to say, the mode of these causes, ex 
tension. The principle of substance gathered in the prim 
itive fact of the me, and become an absolute principle, 
suggests to us necessarily the conception of a real but in 
determinate being under extension, and then extension ap 
pears as the quality of a substance which we call matter. 

External causes vary, that is, the qualities of matter ; 
but the principle of identity and unity gathered in the 
judgment of memory, and become an absolute principle, 
necessarily suggests to us the conception of an identical 
being in the midst of the variations of these qualities, of a 
unity under this plurality, of a duration in which this suc 
cession takes place. 

Perception has been taken upon supposition, and not de* 
monstrated, as a necessary intermediate. 

God. 

Experience withdrawing from matter the causality and 
intentionality which had at first been applied to it, and 
leaving to it only physical powers or forces, the principles 
of causality and intentionality remain, and, aided by the 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 481 

principle of unity, lead us to place the true causality and 
intention ality in a single supreme cause, which the principle 
of substance makes us conceive as a real and substantial 
being, that is, God. 

LEGITIMACY OF THE MEANS OF KNOWLEDGE. 

In order to invalidate the certainty of the existence of 
the objects of our knowledge, it has been said that the 
principles which give us these judgments, being only sub 
jective principles, can not have an objective authority. 

Discussion of the Objective and Subjective. 

If, by subjective, be understood that which is relative to 
a particular subject, and, by objective, that which is abso 
lute, then it is not true that we obtain the objective by 
subjective principles. For instance, what, in point of fact, 
is the principle of causality ? It is the impossibility of not 
applying to all possible cases (of change), the necessary 
relation of effect to cause. But we have obtained this ne 
cessary relation by abstracting it from the individual, that 
is, the determinate subject. This necessary relation con 
stitutes the necessary principle of causality. The principle 
of causality, therefore, supposes the non-relation to any 
particular and determinate subject whatever. Far from 
being a conception of the me, it is an abstraction of it. 
The principle of causality is not, then, subjective, in the 
sense of being relative to a particular individual subject. 
When therefore this principle makes us conceive, e. g., the 
existence of God, we do not believe in the absolute on the 
faith of the relative, in the objective on the faith of the 
subjective; but we believe in the absolute on the faith 
of the absolute, in the objective on the faith of the ob 
jective. 

The principles which give us external existences, give 
them therefore legitimately ; for the absolute legitinlately 
gives the absolute. 

21 



482 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

But if the subjective be understood, as it is by us, to 
mean every tiling which is internal, and objective every 
thing which is external, it is right to say that we believe 
in the objective on the faith of the subjective. But how 
would it be possible for us to know the external, but by an 
internal principle ? It is we who know. Now we are a de 
terminate being, who knows only within himself, because his 
faculty of knowing is his own. No principle could make 
him conceive an existence, if it did not appear to his 
faculty of conceiving, that is to say, if it were not within 
him, if it were not internal. 

But this principle does not lose its authority, because it 
appears in a subject. Because an absolute principle falls 
under the consciousness of a determinate being, it does not 
follow that it becomes relative to that being ; the absolute 
may appear in the determinate, the universal in the par 
ticular, the necessary in the contingent, intelligent person 
ality in the me, man in the individual, the reason in con 
sciousness, the objective in the subjective. 

The first act of faith is the belief in the soul, and the last, 
the belief in God. The intellectual life is a continual series 
of beliefs, of acts of faith in the invisible revealed by the 
visible, the external revealed by the internal. 



MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 

DIVISION AND CLASSIFICATION OF MORAL INQUIRIES. 

Division. 

All questions respecting morals are included ir the three 
following : 

1. What are the actual characteristics of the moral prin 
ciples ? 

2: What is their origin ? 

3. What is their legitimacy or validity ? 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 483 

The two first questions regard moral principles in them 
selves, in the subject where they reside, that is to say, in 
the subjective point of view. This is Morals properly 
speaking. 

The third question considers questions in morals rel 
atively to the consequences derivable from them, and to 
the external objects which they discover to us, that is to 
say, in an objective point of view. This pertains to Re 
ligion properly speaking. 

Classification, or order in which questions in Morals 
should be treated. 

1. The actual to be treated before the primitive ; for, 
beginning with the primitive, an hypothesis only would be 
the result ; it might be a false primitive, which would give 
only an hypothetical actual, whose validity would be that 
of a mere hypothesis. 

2. The actual and the primitive to be treated before the 
legitimate, for the two first questions pertain to the system 
of the subjective, the last to that of the objective, and we 
know nothing of the objective but by and through the 
subjective. 

We go therefore not from religion to morals, but from 
morals to religion ; for if religion is the complement and 
necessary consequence of morals, morals itself is the basis, 
the necessary principle of religion. 

The science of subjective morals (including the Actual 
and the Primitive) is Moral Psychology, which may also 
be called Moral Phenomenology, because it is limited to 
stating and describing the facts of consciousness, or in 
ternal phenomena. 

The science of objective morals, relating to real exist 
ences, is the moral part of ontology. Every thing lying 
higher than consciousness, and therefore surpassing ob 
servation, is sometimes called transcendent, and the ap 
preciation of the legitimacy of the moral principles by 



484 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

ivhich we attain to objective morals, is the transcendental 
ogic of morals. 
The whole science bears the name of Moral Philosophy. 



SUBJECTIVE SYSTEM. 

MOKAL PSYCHOLOGY. 
THE ACTUAL AND THE PRIMITIVE. 

Of the Actual 

Question concerning the classification of moral principles. 
Classification of them according to the distinction of con- 
tingence and necessity. 

Theory of Contingent Principles of Morals. 

In the class of contingent moral principles may be ar 
ranged those facts which are not indeed principles, but 
sentiments, emotions, instincts, etc., and which by their 
contingency and variability have a relation to the con 
tingent principles in morals. 

Moral Instincts. 

Expansion. Pity, sympathy, etc. 

Concentration. Aversion to pain, love of pleasure, seli- 
love. 

Contingent Moral Principles. 

Contingent moral principles, which are general maxims 
relative to morals, are nothing but passion generalized, in 
stinct erected into a rational principle. 

The general principles which are referable to the instinct 
of expansion, constitute what may be called the morality 
of sentiment, variable and not obligatory. Morality of 
pity, of sympathy, of benevolence, considered merely as 
sentiment or emotion. 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 485 

The general principles which are referable to the instinct 
of concentration or self-love, constitute the morality of 
self-interest, variable and not obligatory. 

Fundamental principle of the morality of self-interest 
in regard to an action comtemplated : Look only at its 
consequences relative to personal happiness. 

The most important general principles which form the 
morality of self-interest are : 

Do right, abstain from wrong, from hope or fear of the 
rewards or penalties of civil society ; 

Do right, abstain from wrong, from hope or fear of divine 
rewards and punishments ; 

Do right, abstain from wrong, from fear of blame from 
others, or even of remorse, and in order to gain the pleas 
ure of a good conscience and internal happiness. 

All these contingent general principles [maxims] relate 
to the sensitive nature of man, and have respect only to 
the individual, to self. 

Necessary Principles. 

There is in us an universal and necessary moral principle, 
which embraces all times and all places, the possible as 
well as the real it is the principle of right and wrong. 
This principle distinguishes and qualifies actions. Moral 
Reason. 

Special characteristic of this principle : Obligation the 
Moral Law. 

Enunciation of the moral law : Do right for the sake of 
right ; or rather, Will the right for the sake of right. 
Morality has to do with the intentions. 

The moral principle being universal, the sign or external 
type by which a resolution may be recognized as con 
formed to tli is principle, is the impossibility of not erect 
ing the immediate motive of the particular act or resolu 
tion into a maxim of universal legislation. Moral casuistry 



480 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

The question concerning the enumeration of the neces 
sary moral principles. Of the different applications of 
the moral reason, that is to say, of the different duties. 
Duties toward God ; duties toward others ; duties toward 
ourselves. Equality of duties. Our duties to ourselves 
are as true as others, because they do not refer merely to 
the individual, sensitive ME, but to the man, to the dignity 
of the moral person, of whom alone duties are predicable. 
In this view, all our duties are in a certain sense duties to 
ourselves. 

Of Liberty. 

The moral law logically implies a free will. Duty sup 
poses power. Placed between passion which urges, and 
the moral law which commands us, man must needs have 
been provided with a power of free resolution whereby he 
could resist the one and obey the other. Correlation of 
freedom and law in the moral economy. 

Moreover the freedom of the will is a psychological fact. 
Examination of the objection drawn from the principle 
of causality. Causality is the instrument of liberty, not 
the foundation of it. 

Analysis of the free productivity : effect and power are 
correlative terms bound together by the relation of caus 
ality ; but the voluntary and free energy does riot enter 
into the relation itself it is the subject of it, the founda 
tion, the ultimate reason of it. 

Distinction between Will and Desire. Desire a passive 
modification of the me ; freedom, the proper force of 
man. 

Freedom has respect to Virtue, as Desire has to Happi 
ness. Sphere of Happiness ; sphere of Virtue. 

Principle of Merit and of Demerit. 

Not only do we, as sensitive beings, incessantly aspire 
after happiness ; but when we have done right, we judge, 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 487 

as intelligent and moral beings, that we are worthy of hap 
piness. Necessary principle of merit and demerit the 
origin and foundation of all our ideas of reward and 
punishment ; a principle continually confounded either 
with the desire of happiness, or with the moral law itself. 

Hence it is that the question concerning the sovereign 
good the summum bonum has not yet been universally 
resolved. A single solution has been sought for a complex 
question ; by those who did not recognize the two princi 
ples capable of completely resolving it. 

The Epicurean solution made the summum bonum to 
consist in satisfaction of the desire of happiness. The Stoic 
solution in the fulfillment of the moral law. 

The true solution is in the harmony of virtue and of hap 
piness as merited by it ; for the two elements of this duality 
are not equal. Happiness is the consequent ; virtue is the 
antecedent. It is not alone the sole and sovereign good, 
but it is always the chief good. 

Question concerning Moral and Physical Good and Evil. 

Ever in the earthly career of the virtuous and honorable 
man, the sum of moral good transcends that of moral evil ; 
but the sum of physical evil transcends that of physical 
good. 

It should needs be so, since virtue exists only under this 
condition, that the passions are resisted and overcome. 

When indeed sympathy leads us to aid an unfortunate 
person, this action is attended by something delightful ; for 
instead of being the result of a sacrifice of passion, it 
is the prompting of passion so to say. Moral Beauty. But 
it is not always that we are influenced by a natural pas 
sion or feeling which is in the service of the moral law ; 
almost always it is necessary to sacrifice our natural affec 
tions. Moral conflict. Human Sorrow. The Moral Sub 
lime. 

But if physical evil were far greater than it is, even if it 



488 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

were continually rending our frames, it would continually 
be incumbent on us to obey the moral law ; for the moral 
law exists independently of our sensibility. 

Thus in the presence of unfortunate and suffering virtue, 
the principle of merit and demerit pronounces still that 
happiness is due to virtue. 

Moral position of man on the earth. 

OF THE PRIMITIVE. 

The question concerning the primitive in morals is not 
different from that concerning the primitive in metaphys 
ics. 

Distinction between the logical and the psychological 
primitive. 

Of the logical primitive of contingent principles. 

Instinctive contingent principles have no logical primi 
tive, as certain contingent principles in metaphysics, such 
as the natural belief in the uniformity and stability of the 
laws of nature. Contingent principles of self-interest have 
a logical primitive in a succession of individual determinate 
facts of which they are the sum. 

Psychological primitive of contingent principles. All 
contingent principles have a psychological primitive in an 
individual determinate fact, to wit, a passive modification 
of the me. 

Necessary Principles. 

No logical primitive. Psychological primitive in an in 
dividual determinate complex fact. Description of this 
fact. In part individual and empirical ; in part absolute ; 
the former relative to the me, the latter to moral personal 
ity universally. 

Elimination of the empirical part or that relative to the 
individual me. Disengagement of the absolute part or 
that of the universal moral personality. The process of 
immediate abstraction by which the absolute is separated 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 489 

from the variable, is distinct from the comparative abstrac 
tion which engenders contingent general principles. 

Theory of the Absolute. 

The Absolute has no respect to the individual, the me, 
although it appears in the individual. As soon as the 
absolute in morals has been separated from the varia 
ble element which is the result of passion, etc., etc., it 
appears under a pure and universal type, which embraces 
all times, all places, ah 1 beings, the possible as well as the 
real. 

The absolute is accordingly perceived as the true life of 
intelligent or moral personality, as the sphere in which it 
thinks and wills, in such sort that its thoughts and volitions 
are under the eternal empire of absolute principles which 
direct and determine it at once and always. This is the 
reason why primitively the absolute is found in the first in 
dividual fact, the moral personality being blended with 
the particular individuality of the me in the fact, and 
thinking or willing in the very first instance according to 
its immutable and eternal laws. Hence the legitimacy of 
the first absolute judgment. 

OBJECTIVE MORAL SYSTEM OR RELIGIOUS SYSTEM. 

Transcendental Logic. 

The absolute appears in my consciousness, but it appears 
to it independent of consciousness and of myself; for it is 
only after being disengaged from that which is individual, 
pertaining, that is, solely to myself, that it presents itself 
to the intelligent moral personality which is in us a portion 
of human nature. 

The absolute not being relative to the me, has a legiti 
mate validity beyond the me which perceives it but doe? 

not constitute it 

21* 



490 ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 

Examination of the distinction between speculative reason 
and practical reason. Unity of reason and the absolute. 
The absolute to be divided only in relation to its objects, 
whether mathematical, metaphysical, or moral. 

No practical consideration can transform the relative 
into the absolute. Refutation of the doctrine of Kant. 

In Metaphysics, the absolute principles of causality, in- 
tentionality, of substance and of unity, have conducted us 
to the knowledge of God as the intentional cause single 
and substantial ; these four absolute principles have given 
us the absolute Being, God. 

In Morals, we have recognized two absolute principles, 
the principle of moral obligation, and the necessary princi 
ple of meri.t and demerit : now these two principles which 
appear to my consciousness as absolute principles, have 
transcendental extent, and reveal to me existences out ot 
and beyond my mind. Nor is any thing more natural and 
legitimate, since though revealed in my consciousness, 
they are not constituted by it. Now, as we admit the 
validity of absolute principles in metaphysics we must like 
wise admit the validity of these principles in morals. 

Let us examine what are the strict consequences which 
flow from the absolute principles of Morals ; let us see what 
new existences they manifest to us, or what new charac 
teristics they add to those already obtained. 

Independently of moral philosophy we have attained to 
God as the sole supreme, intentional and substantial cause, 
by means of the four principles which have their psycho 
logical ground in the intentional causality, the unity and 
substantiality of our personal individuality. But I am not 
only an intentional and substantial cause; I am also a 
moral being ; and this new characteristic, recognized by 
my consciousness, forces me to transfer to the supreme 
author of my being a new characteristic which I had not 
yet discovered [by metaphysical principles]. God thus 
becomes in my conception not only the creator of the 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 491 

physical world, but the father of the moral world. The 
author of a moral being can not be immoral ; the imposer 
of the law of justice can not be unjust. It is not then the 
divine will which reveals to me the moral law, but it is the 
moral laAV which reveals to me the justice of the divine 
will. 

Description of the inductive process, or external applica 
tion of the principle of causality, intention ality and sub 
stance. God the substance and reason of Righteousness, 
the ideal of Sanctity, the Holy of Holies. 

Return to the universe. Of the universe apart from the 
prior supposition of a just God. Refutation of ordinary 
optimism. 

When, withdrawing my eyes from the spectacle of the 
external universe, I turn them inward upon myself, the 
Divine rectitude displays itself to me in the principle or 
Lw of rectitude which I find in the depth of my conscience. 
I say to myself: that God who has made the world must 
have made it according to the laws of supreme rectitude ; so 
that concerning the external world, were it even more ob 
scure, and given up to still greater disorders in this pro 
found darkness, in the very presence of these disorders 
the absolute principle of rectitude impels me still to say 
with confidence : that which I see and that which I do not 
see every thing is not only for the best, but all is good, 
perfectly good ; for every thing is ordered or permitted by 
a righteous and all-powerful cause. 

The principle of rectitude, transferred from being an idea 
in my mind to God, throws the light of rectitude over the 
external world; and the judgment of merit and demerit, 
transferred likewise from myself to God, furnishes me with 
new light. The judgment of merit and demerit passed by 
a rational being pronounces that virtue is worthy of happi 
ness. This judgment, being absolute, hn.s a transcendental 
absolute validity. Now, as soon as God is conceived by 
rue as a moral being, supremely just, I can not but con- 



40? ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

ceive that God himself is included within application of the 
absolute principle of merit and demerit. 

The principle of merit and demerit thus transferred 
from myself to a righteous God, imposes, so to say, upon 
this just and all-powerful God the obligation of re-estab 
lishing the legitimate harmony between virtue and happi 
ness, disturbed here below by external causes. God can 
restore this harmony if he wills ; he can not but will it, 
since he is supremely righteous, and since he himself 
judges that virtue and happiness ought to go together. 
Conception of another life. 

The conception of the existence of another life is as 
absolute as the conception of the existence of God, or of 
external objects, or of our own existence. If the absolute 
be absolute, it is so in all cases ; if we accept it in one 
thing, we must in all; if we believe in our own existence 
we may believe with the same title in the reality of another 
life, in the immortality of the soul. 

Examination of the opinion which grounds the immortal 
ity of the soul upon its simplicity. Simple or not, the soul 
can be destroyed by a special act of God. Its simplicity is 
only a condition and a presumption in favor of its immor 
tality. 

The judgment of merit and demerit alone pronounces in 
an absolute manner that the soul is immortal. 

Thus from the law of merit and demerit we derive the 
immortality of the soul, just as from the moral principle 
we derive the Divine justice ; and in the same manner as 
the conception of the justice of God does to our view re 
establish light and order in the external world, just so 
does the conception of another life, and of the future 
realization of the legitimate harmony between virtue and 
happiness, make me yield without a murmur to the ills of 
this life. I look upon the present order of things as a 
temporary state, and expect that the eternal order which 
the absolute principles of justice and of merit icveal to 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 493 

me, will be re-established in another world, where the 
absolute will enjoy at length the pure life of the absolute. 

Examination of the question : Why is there more of suf 
fering than of happiness in this life ? 

Refutation of the common optimist solution drawn from 
the general laws of the world and from the impossibility 
under which God is said to have been of doing any better. 

True solution. The end of man and the object of hu 
man existence not being solely happiness, but happiness in 
virtue and by virtue, it follows that virtue, in this world, 
is the condition of happiness in another life ; and the inev 
itable condition of virtue, in this world, is suffering. Take 
away suffering, there is no longer resignation, humanity ; 
no longer the painful virtues, no more of the moral sub 
lime. We are made sensitive beings, that is to say, ob 
noxious to suffering, because we should be virtuous, and 
because we can not be virtuous but by the sacrifice of sen 
sibility to the moral reason. If there had been more of 
physical good, there would have been less room for moral 
devotion, and this world would have been badly adapted 
to the destination of man. The accidental disorders of the 
physical world and the unforeseen ills that result from them 
are not disorders and ills which have escaped the power 
and goodness of God. God not only permits, but he wilk 
them. He wills that there should be for man in the phys 
ical world, a great number of sources of pain, in ordei 
that there may be for him occasions of resignation and of 
courage. 

Relation of the laws of external nature and of our phys- 
ical nature and passions whereby suffering is imposed 
upon us, to the moral law which imposes upon us courage 
considered with reference to the general design of a 
moral God who has made man for a moral end. 

General rule ; Every thing which turns to the advant 
age of virtue, every thing which gives greater energy to 
moral liberty, every thing which subserves the greatest 



494 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

moral development of the human race, is good. Suffering 
is not the worst condition of man on the earth ; the worst 
condition is the moral brutishness which would be engen 
dered by the absence of physical evil. Object of the 
sufferings of life. 

Physical evil, external or internal, is connected with the 
object of existence, which is to fulfill here below the moral 
law whatever be the consequences, with a firm hope that 
in another life the recompense of reward to suffering vir 
tue will not fail. The moral law has its sanction and its 
reason in itself; it owes nothing to that of merit and de 
merit which accompanies it, but does not form its founda 
tion. But while the principle of merit and demerit is not 
the immediate motive of action, it is a motive of consola 
tion and of hope. The province of religion and the prov 
ince of morality. 

What is the Moral Law ? The knowledge of Duty, as 
Duty, whatever be its consequences. 

What is Religion ? The knowledge of Duty in its ne 
cessary harmony with Happiness a harmony which ought 
to have its realization in another life through the justice 
and omnipotence of God. 

Religion is of faith ; morality of observation. Morality 
is psychological; religion is transcendental. Morality is a 
matter of apperception ; religion a matter of revelation. 
I have faith in the existences revealed to me by the moral 
principles of my nature ; the principles themselves I per 
ceive. 

Religion is as true as moral science ; for when once an 
absolute principle in morals is admitted, we must admit 
the consequences of it. 

Human existence complete and entire may be summed 
up in these two words which harmonize with each other : 
Duty and Hope. 






ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 495 



VIII. 

PROGRAMME OF THE FIRST PART OF A COURSE OF LECTURES 
IN 1818, ON ABSOLUTE TRUTHS. 

Every particular truth is undoubtedly such or such a truth, 
but it has besides something in it which constitutes its 
truth ; so too every science is composed of a particular 
element which makes it what it is and not something else, 
and of a higher and general element which impresses upon 
it the character of a science. What then is that which 
constitutes truth and science in themselves as truth and 
science, independently of their particular elements and 
their particular applications, whose interest in a philosoph 
ical view lies entirely in their relation to their superior 
elements or their principle ? 

The fundamental idea of science is in this Platonic axiom 
no science of the contingent. The absolute is the veritable 
scientific element. 

The scientific spirit consists in perpetually transferring 
the absolute in the relative and a perpetual bringing back 
of the relative to the absolute. 

The scientific method is to seek for the absolute without 
which there is no true science, and to seek for it by ob 
servation without which there is no real science. 

The scientific problem is to find the accordance of spec 
ulation and observation, that is, to find a posteriori some 
thing which is a priori. 

Spheres within which observation is exercised : 

1. Of the liberty or of the me / 

2. Of the sensibility and its two modes, sensation and 
sentiment. 

Observation, whether addressed to the sensibility or to 
the liberty, is equally unable to find any scientific basis. 
For, if the character of sensible phenomena is to be variable, 



496 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

and if the me is individual, the absolute can be found 
neither in the one nor in the other, separate or united. 

3. Of the reason, as distinct from the sensibility or the 
liberty. It falls under observation as much as the sensi 
bility and liberty. It is in this sphere that observation 
seizes immediately principles which as soon as they appear 
to observation, appear to it as anterior, posterior, superior 
to it, independent of it, true at all times and in all places, 
because they are true in themselves, that is true with an 
absolute truth. Here is the solution of the scientific 
problem. 

Division of every scientifi&investigation. 

1. Of the Absolute, as idea, or in its relation to reason. 
Rational Psychology. 

2. Of the Absolute, out of the reason, in its relation to 
existence. Ontology. 

3. Of the legitimacy of the passage from idea to being, 
from rational psychology to ontology. Logic. 

Classification of every scientific investigation, or the order 

in which the problems of science should be treated. 
Rational psychology should be first treated, the first 
thing to do being to state that on which we wish to operate. 
Logic should be treated before ontology ; ontology being 
nothing but an hypothesis if the legitimacy of the princi 
ples on which it rests be not previously demonstrated. 

RATIONAL PSYCHOLOGY, 

OR THE ABSOLUTE CONSIDERED IN ITS RELATION TO REASON, 

Division of every Psychological Investigation. 

We must investigate : 

1. The actual characteristics of the idea of the absolute, 
rational principles, just as they appear to our observation 
now; 






ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 497 

2. The primitive characteristics of the idea of the abso 
lute, or rational principles as they would appear at their 
origin ; 

3. The passage of the primitive characteristics to the 
actual ch iracteristics. 

Thus : the nature, origin, genesis of rational principles ; 
the actual, the primitive, the relation of the primitive to 
the actual, such are all the questions into which rational 
psychology is divided. 

Classification of every Psychological Investigation. 

As it is necessary first to state that of which we wish to 
search for the origin, under peril of finding nothing but a 
false origin or an hypothetical origin, we must needs treat 
the actual before the primitive ; and as we can not come 
back from the primitive to the actual except as we know 
both the one and the other, it follows that we must needs 
treat the actual and the primitive before searching for the 
relation of the primitive to the actual. Accordingly we 
are to treat : 

1. The actual, or the nature of rational principles as they 
now manifest themselves ; 

2. The primitive ; 

3. The relation of the primitive to the actual. 

FIRST PART OF RATIONAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

TJie Actual. 

Of psychological method. 

Of the instrument of method, or of reflection and con 
sciousness in their difference and in their relation. 

The different degrees through which observation arrives 
at the absolute. 

First Degree. 

Distinction between contingent rational principles and 
necessary principles. 



498 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

That observation discovers in the rational sphere prin 
ciples to which it is impossible to refuse our assent, and of 
which the contrary implies a contradiction. 

Examples mathematical, metaphysical, moral, etc. 

The absolute at this degree is a law of the human mind, 
a belief, a form, a category, a necessary principle. 

Objection of Kant : that necessity destroys the absolute 
which it pretends to establish by impressing upon it a re 
flective, and consequently a subjective and personal charac 
ter, by the relation which it has to the me, the seat of 
personality and subjectivity. 

Second Degree. 

Not only is it impossible for us not to belive the various 
rational principles above enumerated ; but it is impossible 
for us not to believe that they are true in themselves in 
dependently of the impossibility we are under of not 
believing their truth. 

But here we pass beyond the necessary only by the 
necessary ; the absolute is still reflective, that is, related to 
me, that is, to the subjective. 

Third Degree. 

The relative implies the absolute. 

But this axiom is itself subjective, being still a necessary 
principle, a law, a form, a category. It is still only a sub 
jective demonstration of the absolute. Circle of the 
subjective. 

Fourth and Last Degree. 

Point of view of the pure reason : here at length all 
subjectivity, all reflectivity expires in the spontaneous 
tntu tion of absolute truth. 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 4G9 

Analysis of the Fact of Pure Apperception. 

Special character of this point of view : that it is impos 
sible to place ourselves there at will. Contrary character 
of the point of reflective view. 

Necessary obscurity of the point of view spontaneous, not 
reflective, and consequently indistinct and obscure ; neces 
sary clearness of the point of view reflective anddistinctive 

Every thing which is reflective being distinctive is nega 
tive ; every thing spontaneous is positive ; now, as the 
clearness of the negative is a negative clearness, a simple 
reflection, a light altered by reflection, it follows that the 
reflective light is false as compared with the spontaneous 
light, which is the true light ; hence the necessary obscur 
ity of the point of view negative and reflective ; the neces 
sary and real clearness of the pure and spontaneous view. 

The two terms of the fact of pure apperception, terms 
immediate and intimate the one with the other, are the 
reason and truth, posited evidently out of the me. 

It is precisely in being thus independent of the me, 01 
the subject, of forms, of categories, of beliefs, all necessari 
ly subjective, that the absolute consists. 

Here is the highest point of view from which we can 
discover the absolute, while resting within the limits of the 
actual. The thing now to do is, always within the actual, 
to return from this degree to the lower and previous de 
grees which conducted us there. 

The absolute, in its absolute independence, in its ab 
solute purity, has no other characteristic, no other criterion, 
than itself; it contains in itself its own definition ; but as 
Boon as it enters into relation with the me, it takes a new 
character, a relative criterion, relative not to itself, but to 
that with which it is in communication. 

First degree. The first degree of the absolute in relation 
to man or as idea, is pure apperception ; the absolute as 
yet loses nothing of its purity except what the idea of re- 



500 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

lation itself takes from it. Primitive light and obscurity 
of this point of view, the purest which can be for man. 

Second degree. The pure apperception becomes reflect 
ive, gets obscured as a pure apperception, becomes clear 
as being subjective, by entering into more intimate relation 
with the me, the seat of all reflection and of all light. 

Third degree. The pure apperception passes from re 
flective apperception to necessary conception, becoming 
subjective, getting more and more clear and obscure. 

Fourth degree. The apperception becomes belief; from 
habit ceases to be reflective, acquires a false spontaneity of 
application, and passes into logic under the title, at once 
deceptive and true, of inherent laws of the intelligence, 
constituent principles, necessary conceptions, forms of 
thought, intellectual categories. Last degree of the subject 
ivity of the absolute. 

All those degrees are often found together in the same 
fact, enveloped the one in the other ; they are perpetually 
coming out from each other, and perpetually entering into 
each other, they are incessantly disengaged and confounded 
together. It is this perpetual motion and interchange 
which constitutes intellectual life. 

Distinction between common sense and science. Science 
would know as far as it can know, would exhaust all the 
intellectual degrees, go to the first and from thence master 
all the others and master itself. Common sense stops at 
the subjective degrees ; its boundary is the necessary ; 
which is the starting-point of science but not its limit. 

HISTOEICAL PART. 

Modern Philosophy. 

Scientific idea of the history of philosophy in the eight 
eenth century, or appreciation of all cotemporaneoua 
schools considered as types of all the possible solutions of 
the question concerning the absolute. 



ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 501 

By sensation CON DILLAU 

f The subjective in its first degree or by 
Solutions. By the reason. J common sense Ruin. 

[ Subjective in its highest degree KANT. 

Bytheme FIOUTR. 



SECOND PART OF RATIONAL PSYCHOLOGY. 

Of the Primitive^ or of the origin of Rational Principles. 

The contradictory question concerning the origin of the 
absolute in itself not to be entertained : the absolute be 
ing that which can not but be, can have in itself considered 
neither beginning nor end. 

The only proper question is this : Under what character 
istics does the absolute, in itself immutable, first appear to 
us ? A psychological, not a logical question. 

Reduction of the question to its simplest expression: 
What has been the first position of the human mind in re 
lation to the absolute ? 

To begin by determining precisely all the different ways 
of being, possible to the mind relatively to the absolute, 
or the different intellectual positions. 

The absolute can appear to the mind only in the con 
crete or in the abstract. 

These two positions contain two others still : Whether 
in the abstract, or in the concrete, the mind perceives the 
absolute by a pure and spontaneous apperception, or it 
conceives it necessarily and reflectively. 

It remains to determine the chronological order of these 
two positions. 

To determine first the chronological priority of the reflect 
ive and of the spontaneous. The spontaneous is anterior 
to the reflective. 

Chronological order of the different intellectual posi 
tions : 

1. Pure apperception of the absolute in the concrete. 

2. Necessary conception of the absolute in the abstract. 



502 ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 

Here is only the first part of the primitive. The rational 
principles whose origin has just been determined are com 
posed, or appear to be composed, of notions. For example, 
the principle of causality is composed of the notions of cause 
and of effect, the principle of substance of the notions of 
substance and of quality. The notions enter into the prin 
ciples, but do not constitute them. The thing to be ascer 
tained is whether these notions are anterior to the princi 
ples, or whether they result from the application of the 
principles. 

Distinction between principles, the notions in which are 
direct, derived from the direct perception of some object, 
or indirect, relative to an object which eludes all direct per 
ception. 

Direct notions may be anterior to the principles. Indirect 
notions can not be. 

From whence it follows that principles composed of 
direct notions can have their origin in them, and that prin 
ciples composed of indirect notions can not find their 
origin in the notions which presuppose them. 

Now there can be a direct notion only of the finite, of 
the visible : the infinite and invisible elude all immediate 
grasp. Therefore, either the judgment (for a principle 
manifests itself only in and by a judgment) comprises two 
finite and visible terms, and then the knowledge of their 
relation, in which case the judgment supposes or admits a 
comparison of the two terms ; or, it comprises in its two 
terms one term which is in the sphere of the infinite and in 
visible, and then the supposition of a previous comparison 
of the two terms is absurd, and the knowledge of their re 
lation, that is the judgment, rests in the force of a princi 
ple which, one of two terms being given, gives the other 
and the relation between the two. 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 503 

THIRD PART OF RATIONAL PSYCHOLOGY, 

Or Relation of the Primitive to the Actual. 

The absolute first appears in the concrete ; the greatest 
change to which it can be subjected is that of becoming 
abstract: the question concerning the relation of the prim 
itive to the actual is therefore that of the relation of the 
concrete to the abstract. 

The abstract is derived from the concrete by abstraction. 

Theory of Abstraction. 

Two sorts of abstraction : 

1 . Comparative abstraction ; operating upon several real 
objects, and seizing their resemblances in order to form an 
abstract idea which is collective and mediate ; collective, 
because diiferent individual objects concur in its forma 
tion ; mediate, because it requires several intermediate 
operations. 

2. Immediate abstraction, not comparative ; operating 
not upon several concretes, but upon a single one, elimin 
ating and neglecting its individual and variable part and 
disengaging the absolute part which it raises at once to 
its pure form. 

Parts to be eliminated in a concrete: 1, the quality of 
the object and the circumstances under which the absolute 
unfol ds itself ; 2, the quality of the subject which perceives, 
but without constituting it. Elimination of the me and 
the not-me. The absolute remains. 

Difference and primitive relation of the absolute and the 
variable, as opposites, but correlative and cotemporaneous ; 



I 



LOGIC ; 
Or the Legitimacy of the Passage from Idea to Being. 

After having considered the absolute as idea, that is, in 
its relation to reason, and after having consider**! it apart 



504 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

from this relation, it is necessary to draw it from this state 
of abstraction in order to attach it to the substance which 
constitutes it, and from the bosom of which it makes its 
apparition to reason. But to go from idea to being, from 
truth to substance, we must needs be well assured of our 
possessing the truth, and logic alone can conduct us to 
ontology. Now, as we can know nothing of the truth 
except what reason teaches us of it, it follows that logic 
can be nothing but a falling back again upon rational psy 
chology. 

The sole judge of truth is the reason ; for reasoning in 
the last analysis rests upon the reason, which furnishes the 
principles of reasoning. , 

Reason installed sole judge of truth, it remains to know 
in how many ways, under how many forms, reason knows 
the truth, that is, what are the different sorts of certitude. 

Reason has four degrees, as we have seen ; of these four 
degrees, the first three enter into each other and meet to 
gether under the common character of reflectivity and 
subjectivity. There remains therefore two degrees truly 
different, that of reflectivity, that is, of belief, and that of 
spontaneity or absolute apperception. 

Belief as belief is subjective, and so implies only a cer 
titude contained within the limits or sphere of the believ 
ing subject ; or, even while it is belief, it has a side not 
subjective. 

For, belief is but a degree ; disengaged from its relation 
to the reflective me which constitutes it, it is resolved into 
the pure apperception which precedes it and grounds it 
necessarily and really. 

It is there that absolute certitude exists, not to the eyes 
of reasoning, nor to the eyes of belief, but to those of pure 
apperception, legitimating itself by its own light. Accord 
ance of psychology and logic. 

Logical examination of the psychological fact of pure 
apperception. This fact has nothing subjective in it ex- 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 505 

cept that which it is impossible should not be in it to wit, 
the ./or me which blends itself with the fact without con 
stituting it. The me necessarily enters into every cogni 
tion ; the me, being the subject of all human knowing, 
enters into cognition, but not into truth. 

Reason, impersonal in its nature, is in direct relation 
with truth : there lies the pure absolute ; but reason reit 
erates itself in our consciousness, and behold we have 
knowledge. The me or consciousness is there as witness, 
not as judge: the sole judge is reason, a pure, impersonal 
faculty, although it can not enter into exercise unless the 
personality or the me is posited and added to it. 

Pure apperception constitutes natural logic. Pure ap 
perception become necessary belief, constitutes logic prop 
erly speaking. 

The first is founded on itself: verum index sui. 

The second is founded on the impossibility for the reason 
of not believing in the truth. 

The form of the first is pure affirmation, spontaneous, 
unreflective, in which the mind rests with absolute secur 
ity, that is, without suspicion of any possible negation. 

The form of the second is reflective affirmation, that i*s, 
the impossibility of denying or the necessity of affirming, 
negative affirmation, and affirmative negation. The idea 
of negation presides over ordinary logic, its affirmations 
being only the fruit more or less laborious of two nega 
tions. Theory of pure affirmation and logical affirmation. 

DIALECTICS, 

Or Second Part of Logic. 

Logic is occupied solely with the absolute : dialectics is 
occupied with the relation of the contingent to the ab 
solute. 

Actual and primitive simultaneousness, and at the same 
time perpetual discordance of the contingent and (ho nb- 

22 



506 ELEMENTS OP PSYCHOLOGY. 

solute, the finite and the infinite. Dialectics puts them in 
harmony, and, here as elsewhere, the function of science 
is to remove the apparent contradiction Avhich breaks out 
every where and overwhelms the intelligence. 

To bring the contingent and particular under the uni 
versal and absolute, while always sharply distinguishing 
them, is to reason. 

Form of reasoning : the syllogism. Its beauty as a figure. 

ONTOLOGY, 
Or Relation of Truth to Being. 

Absolute truths, obtained by psychology and legitimated 
by logic, can serve as a solid foundation for ontology. 

It is clear that there can be but one absolute truth 
which can bind in an absolute way absolute truths to 
being. In the matter of the absolute, we can employ 
only the absolute, else w r e fall back again into the relative. 

Now, the absolute truth which raises us immediately 
from idea to being, from truths to their substance, is this 
truth : that every truth supposes a being in which it re 
sides ; a proposition referable to this more general prop 
osition : every quality supposes a subject, a substance, a 
being in which it resides. 

This proposition is the true foundation of ontology. 
Psychology and logic have had the task of explaining it 
so as that it comes before us with complete evidence. 

Recapitulation of psychological and logical researches 
relatively to the principle of substance. 

Objections. 

1. This principle ought to conduct us to a being which 
we are supposed not to know : now this principle contains 
the notion of being; it therefore takes for granted the 
thing in question. Vicious circle of the principle of sub 
stance considered in relation to its result 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 607 

2. Moreover this principle, considered in relation to 
itself, presents a vicious circle as evident as the former ; 
for, as there exists no quality except so far as there exits 
a subject, and no subject except so far as there exists a 
quality, to establish ourselves on the quality in order to 
go to being, is implictly to take being for granted and to 
conclude from the same to the same ; 

3. Finally this principle, looking at it in its actual state, 
in its degrees and under a reflective point of view, de 
stroys what it pretends to establish, by making being 01 
substance, subjective. 

To which it may be replied that : 

1. Pure reason perceiving spontaneously this truth with 
out regard to the me, does not make either the truth or its 
results subjective ; 

2. Pure reason proceeding neither from quality to sub 
ject, nor from subject to quality, is not condemned to a 
vicious circle. 

Exposition of the fact of pure reason. 

At the same time that the senses or consciousness per 
ceive their object, reason perceives its object, which at 
that moment is no more a substance than the object of 
sense or of consciousness is a quality : only reason refers 
them the one to the other, with this difference, that the one 
appears to it to suppose the other beyond itself relatively 
to existence, while it rests in the other without perceiving 
any thing beyond. It is not because one is a quality that 
it conceives the other as a substance, because the one 
is a phenomenon that it conceives the other as a being : it 
knows distinctly neither phenomenon nor being, neither 
quality nor subject ; it knows nothing distinctly ; but its ob 
scure apperceptions embrace already two things which 
reflection will distinguish, will make clear, and will mark 
afterward with that character at once of harmony and dis 
cordance which at an ulterior time are reflected in logic 
and in grammar under tlwj subjunctive and disjunctive 



508 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

denominations of subject and quality, phenomenon and 
being, accident and substance, etc. 

3. Pure reason does not imply a vicious circle considered 
relatively to its results, it does not presuppose the thing in 
question ; it does not derive being from being : for pure 
reason in its primitive apperception perceives that which 
one day will be called quality and being, perceives it not 
in virtue of the principle that every quality supposes a 
being, but in its own proper virtue which first discovers 
what it was previously ignorant of. Pure reason first per 
ceives a quality and the substance of that quality. That is 
the primitive fact, an obscure fact, on which consequently 
science can not operate immediately, but which it should 
recognize. 

Then comes abstraction, which separates the form of 
cognition from its matter* neglecting the determinateness 
of the phenomenon and of the being, which it raises to this 
general formula : every phenomenon supposes being a 
truth which, strictly speaking, is nothing else than the 
most general expression of the primitive fact. The prin 
ciple of substance is so far therefore from primitively giv 
ing us being, that the principle itself results from the 
primitive and pure apperception of being, a primitive ap 
perception without which the principle would never have 
been conceived. But this general formula, every quality 
supposes being, when once obtained, science, which does 
not proceed as nature does, takes possession of it, makes 
use of it, not as the primitive starting-point, but as the 
foundation for its ulterior developments. Science rests 
upon nature : if it disallows the anterior existence of that 
about which it busies itself, it would operate without mate 
rials and lose itself in empty forms. If on the contrary 
science recognizes for human cognitions a starting-point 
which precedes and surpasses itself and on which it estab 
lishes its developments, it gives them a legitimate basis and 
the reality of nature. 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 500 

If then the principle of substance be taken as any 
thing else than the scientific expression of the primitive ap 
perception, it is false and vain. Stamped with subjectivity, 
chained within a vicious circle, it will produce nothing but 
illusions ; but if it is subjected to primitive apperception, 
it reflects it legitimately and serves for a solid foundation 
to ontology. 

What I have said of the principle of substance, I say of 
this proposition which is referable to it, to wit : that every 
truth supposes a being in which it resides. If we believe 
that it is by the aid of this principle that reason first con 
ceives of being, we condemn reason to a paralogism ; we 
make it construct being with a maxim which already 
contains it, and the being obtained by science is a being 
at once illogical and vain. If on the contrary we recog 
nizes the fact that prior to this abstract proposition, every 
truth supposes being, pure reason had attained to being 
along with truth, without the help of science, then science, 
by becoming subordinate to nature, becomes a repetition 
of it and a legitimate generalization. 

Primitive fact of pure reason relatively to truth and to 
being : Reason perceives, spontaneously and without re 
gard to the me, an absolute truth AND also something 
really existing in itself to which it .refers the absolute 
truth. 

Characteristics of this primitive fact : 1, purity of apper 
ception ; 2, the fact concrete in its two terms. 

Reason in its development perceives still spontaneously 
new truths which it still spontaneously refers to a sub 
stance ; in such sort that as soon as it reflects and falls 
back upon itself and contemplates what it has done, not 
only does it trust to it naturally, but it feels itself enchained 
to it : the relation of truth to being ceases to be a natural 
apperception; it becomes a necessary conception, which 
soon becomes the ground of this belief, this category, 



510 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

this principle : every truth supposes a being in which it 
resides. 

This principle connects absolutely truths absolute to 
their substance. 

Ontology. 

The substance of absolute truths is necessarily absolute. 
Necessary truths suppose necessarily a necessary being. 
The idea of the infinite supposes an infinite being. 

This argument is the foundation of the theology of Plato, 
of St. Augustin, of Descartes, of Malebranche, of Fenelon, 
of Bossuet, of Clarke, of Leibnitz. 

The necessary and absolute being, the last ground of 
necessary and absolute truths is GOD. 

The existence of God is proved by other arguments 
undoubtedly excellent: this too is of immovable solidity. 

As absolute truth is referred necessarily to an absolute 
being, every cognition of the one is already a cognition of 
the other ; from whence it follows that the direct apper 
ception of absolute truth involves an indirect and obscure 
apperception of God himself. 

Theory of the conception of God as inherent in the con- 
ception of the truth, and of the divine intuition, obscure 
and indirect, as inherent in the pure intuition of the truth, 
or new theory of " vision in God." Error and truth of 
the theory of Malebranche. 

Thus, properly speaking, the science of truth is that of 
God himself: science as science is divine in its nature ; the 
more we know in general, the more we know of God ; 
science and religion strictly bound together ; they rise and 
sink in the same proportion. 

Religion in its most elevated point of view being the re 
lation of absolute truth to absolute being, and this relation 
being itself an absolute truth, subjectively necessary, it 
follows that religion is essential to reason ; as there is being 
IP every thought, every thought is essentially religious, 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 511 

whether the thinking being knows it or is ignorant of it ; 
irreligion, atheism, impossible for the people, for the masses, 
who do not distrust their reason, are possible only for the 
learned who alone can oppose their liberty to their intel 
ligence ; but who, even when they deny being, can not but 
believe in it, who necessarily think it every time they think, 
speak it every time they speak, and unceasingly proclaim 
God. 

God is known by all men, inasmuch as they are men, 
from the moment of their birth to their death : known by 
all equally, but with more or less of clearness ; the more 
or less of clearness is the sole difference which can be be 
tween the conceptions of men. 

After having shown the difference between absolute 
truth and absolute being, and at the same time their inti 
mate relation, it is necessary to establish the relation be 
tween the absolute Being, God, and man, that is to say 
with reason, the veridical and religious part of the nature 
of man. 

Relation and difference between reason and sentiment. 

Reason by itself does not attain to the absolute being 
directly ; it attains it only indirectly and by interposition 
of truth. 

Truth is the necessary mediator between reason and God ; 
incapable of contemplating God face to face, reason adores 
him in the truth which represents him, which serves as the 
word of God and the teacher of man. 

Now it is not man who creates for himself a mediator 
between himself and God, man being unable to constitute 
absolute truth. It is therefore God himself who interposes 
between man and himself, absolute truth not being able to 
come from any thing but from the absolute being, from 
Rod. 

Absolute truth is therefore a revelation of God to man 
by God himself; and as absolute truth is perpetually per 
ceived by man and illuminates every man upon his entrance 



512 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

into life, it follows that absolute truth is a perpetual and 
universal revelation of God to man. Theory of natural 
revelation. 

Absolute truth being the sole means of bringing God 
and man into relation, but being the infallible means, it 
follows that human reason in becoming united to absolute 
truth becomes united to God in his manifestation in spirit 
and in truth. 

The supreme law for humanity : to become united to 
God as intimately as possible by the truth, by seeking it, by 
practicing it, by loving it. 

Summary or Concatenation of all the parts of the 

Science of Science. 

Relation of ontology and rational psychology. Har 
mony of psychology and logic, and of the three great divi 
sions of psychology. Systematic unity is the expression 
of the unity of intellectual life. 



IX. 

OP ABSOLUTE TRUTHS. 
THE ORIGIN AND VALIDITY OF RATIONAL PRINCIPLES. 

[From the Lectures on Absolute Truths, Hist. Mod. Phil, First Series, Vol. II. In 
troduced here for the further illustration of several points indicated in the fore 
going Programme, and treated in the examination of Locke s Essay and other parts 
of this work.] 

Of the Origin of Absolute Principles. \ 

The origin of a principle is either logical or psycholo- 
gical. Either we inquire whether a principle has its origin 
in another principle which explains and authorizes it, and 
this is its logical origin ; or we inquire solely under what 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 513 

circumstances we have come to know it, by what occasion 
and in what way it manifested itself to our mind for the 
first time : this is its psychological origin. 

Now it is a contradiction to suppose that an absolute 
principle can have any logical origin ; for such a principle 
rests only on itself; and its truth is not borrowed from any 
other principle : otherwise it would not be a principle. 
Moreover, its authority was not born on such or such a day ; 
it has not grown with time, and it will have no end. Who 
could tell when it began and when it will cease to be true 
that every phenomenon supposes a substance, that every 
event has its cause and its reason. These principles there 
fore have not and can not have any logical origin ; to seek 
for such an origin for them, is to endanger the character 
which they now manifestly bear. For, the primitive form 
of thought contains nothing universal, nothing necessary : 
every thing there is particular and contingent : there may 
be therefore a temptation to reject the absolute and uni 
versal, because we can not find them at the origin of 
knowledge. It may not be noticed that the particular and 
the determinate are here only an envelop and a transient 
form. The substance may disappear under the form, and 
an ill-advised search after an origin which can not be found 
may lead to the systematic denial of the very existence of 
principles which mankind apply every day. 

But if there is no place for an inquiry concerning tho 
logical origin of universal and necessary principles, we may, 
and we should, seek for their psychological origin, that is, 
examine under what circumstances we have obtained the 
notion of cause, the principle of causality, the principle of 
duty, the notion of time, that of space, etc. ; in short all 
the notions and principles by which absolute truth is mani 
fested to us. The whole question concerning the origin of 
principles reduces itself therefore to this : How, in what 
circumstances, under what characters, are absolute princi- 

22* 



514 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

pies first presented to us and afterward developed. It is a 
purely historical question. 

I proceed to attempt a description of the different posi 
tions of the human mind relatively to absolute truth. 

I can perceive the truth in two different ways. Either, 
I perceive it in such or such a particular determinate cir 
cumstance, in such or such a positive application ; for ex 
ample, two determinate objects, as apples or stones, being 
before me, and two similar objects placed by the side of 
the first two, I perceive with most absolute certainty this 
truth, that these two stones and these two other stones 
make four stones : this is in some sort the concrete percep 
tion of the truth. Or, I can conceive in a general and ab 
stract way that two and two equal four ; this is the ab 
stract conception of the same truth. 

Sill further. We can perceive this same truth under its 
abstract or under its concrete form without raising the 
question : Am I able not to admit this truth ? We in such 
a case perceive it by the sole virtue of the intelligence, by 
its purely spontaneous force, and without reflection. Or 
we may attempt to call in question the truth which we per 
ceive, we may try to deny it ; we can not ; and in such a 
case the conception of this truth presents itself to the re 
flection as superior to all possible negation, that is, as a 
necessary truth. 

Take notice that the truth is here always the same ; in 
itself, logically and ontologically, it is absolute, and does 
not change ; that which changes is the different positions 
of the human mind in relation to it. 

These different positions are four in number: 1, con 
crete perception ; 2, abstract conception ; 3, pure and 
spontaneous perception; 4, reflective and necessary con 
ception. 

The point now is to settle the order of priority or 
posteriority of these different positions. Nothing easier. 
The truth must be perceived before it can be noted that 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 515 

we are not able not to perceive it. So the necessary 
conception is posterior to the pure perception, and the 
reflective conviction to the spontaneous intuition. So 
also we do not apprehend the truth at first in its abstract 
form, we first perceive it under a concrete form. 

Here then is the order to be established between all 
intellectual positions : 

If we examine the actual state of our mind, we there 
find the necessary principles in the abstract state such as 
logic presents them: Every effect has a cause, every 
quality a subject, every means an end. From thence we 
can go surely back to the primitive state ; it is quite cer 
tain that the abstract has been preceded by the concrete, 
the reflective by the spontaneous ; so that the first step 
of the intelligence must needs have been that of apper 
ception, the pure intuition of the concrete. Here analysis 
is arrested. It is impossible in the chronological or psy 
chological order to go back of the spontaneous intuition 
of truth under its concrete, its particular and determinate 
form. If, on the contrary, instead of starting from the 
actual to go back to the primitive, we start from the 
primitive to get to the actual, we should obtain the fol 
lowing order: 1, pure apperception of a concrete truth; 
2, necessary conception of the same truth ; 3, pure apper 
ception of the absolute truth ; 4, necessary conception of 
the same truth. 

But, do not forget, if the positions of the mind with 
respect to truth may vary, the truth in itself remains the 
same. In arithmetic, whether I say, as we now say : one 
and one equal two ; or, as at first : such an object and such 
an object make two objects, the truth is in both cases the 
same ; it has changed only to my eyes ; from concrete and 
determinate, it has become abstract and indeterminate. 
After appearing in one of its applications, it is disengaged 
from all application, and is shown as it is, that is as absolute. 

Let us recur for a moment to what has gone before. 



516 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

After having stated the actual character of universal 
and necessary principles, we have tried to discover ;heir 
primitive state ; and in order to get at it, we have not 
put upon them an hypothetical origin, even under condi 
tion of confronting it afterward with their actual state ; 
we have taken our ground upon the present reality, and 
by help of the torch which it puts into our hands, we have 
advanced with circumspection upon the obscure track of 
the primitive state. 

Distinguishing carefully the question concerning the 
logical origin of absolute truths from that concerning 
their psychological origin, we have repudiated the first, 
which has too often been confounded with the second, 
and we have confined ourselves to the latter. Indeed to 
inquire how and by what right a principle is clothed in 
our eyes with the character of certitude, is one thing ; 
and to ask under what circumstances this principle makes 
its appearance in our mind, is quite another thing. The 
logical question is resolved of itself, or rather there is 
no question to be resolved. Thus, does any one demand 
what is the reason of the certainty of the principle of 
causality ? the answer is very simple ; it is the nature it 
self of the principle of causality. The certainty of this 
principle has neither genesis nor origin ; it is not engen 
dered in time, and does not find its justification with the 
progress of intelligence. It knows no degrees ; we have 
not believed the principle of causality at first a little, then 
a little more, and then altogether: it has not been formed 
piece-meal by successive enlargement ; from the first day 
it has been what it will be at the last, all-prevalent, neces 
sary, irresistible. The only difference is that the absolute 
certainty which it carries with itself is not at first nor al 
ways accompanied with clear consciousness. Thus, Leib 
nitz himself had no more confidence in the principle of 
causality, and even in the principle of the sufficient reason, 
than the most ignorant man in the world ; but the latter 



ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 517 

applies these principles without reflecting on their power, 
a power which governs him unconsciously to himself, 
while Leibnitz is struck with wonder at it, studies it, and 
for its whole explanation refers it to the nature of the 
human mind and the nature of things, that is, according 
to the strong and profound saying of lloyer-Collard, he 
has derived ignorance from its highest source.* We must 
therefore repudiate the logical question and limit ourselves 
to the historical question, which may be thus stated : To 
find the primitive form under which absolute truth makes 
its first apparition in the human intelligence. The ques 
tion being thus reduced, we have attempted to resolve it 
without vain conjecture. 

Our business is not to dream out at random a hypothet 
ical origin, but to start from the actual state in order to 
ascend gradually to the primtive state of absolute principles. 
Now what is the actual state of these principles, the most 
striking characteristic with which they are marked ? It is 
that of necessity. For example, I believe now, and I can 
not but believe, that out of myself every thing which 
begins to exist has a cause. But analysis demonstrates 
easily that this impossibility for me of not admitting this 
principle, that is, its recognized necessity, is the fruit of re 
flection, and that reflection presupposes another operation, 
unreflective, spontaneous, it matters little what name be 
given to it. See therefore, without any hypothesis, a 
state anterior to the necessary belief. 

This is not all : we have considered the principle of caus- 

* Jouffroy s Eeid, Vol. IV. p. 433. " When we revolt against prim 
itive facts, we misconceive equally the constitution of our intelligence 
and the object of philosophy. To explain a fact, is it any thing else 
than to derive it from another fact, and this kind of explanation, if it 
must stop somewhere, does it not suppose facts that are inexplicable? 
The science of the human mind will have reached the highest degree 
of perfection which it can attain, it will be complete when it shall hava 
learned how to derive ignorance from its highest source" 



518 ELEMENTS OF PSYCHOLOGY. 

ality under its universal and abstract form ; but does it al 
ways appear to us under this form ? If you say in the philo 
sophical school ; Every thing which begins to exist has a 
cause; do you not also say every day: This particular ac 
cident which has just happened, the fall of this leaf or of 
this stone, this phenomenon has such or such a cause ? Here 
the principle of causality, while remaining the same at 
bottom, presents itself under a form very different from 
the former. Under which of these forms do we first per 
ceive it, in its universality and abstraction, or in its par 
ticular applications ? Experience testifies that the intel 
ligence does not begin by abstraction, and that we arrive 
at the abstract only by the concrete. 

Thus, summarily, 1, absolute principles are manifested 
/jO us under a concrete from before being clothed in an ab 
stract form ; 2, this primary apperception of the truth is 
at first pure from all reflection and consequently from all 
necessity, or to express it better, from the form of neces 
sity, which is introduced later with reflection. 

Have Ave exhausted the question concerning the origin 
of absolute principles, and have we attained the primitive 
form beyond which there is nothing further to search for ? 
I think so. It is certain that every absolute pri