and psychological science, is the multiplicity of acts and faculties of the soul, notwithstanding its simplicity attested by the unity of consciousness. There is in man, and in the universe, an assemblage of laws, the effects of which are simultaneously evolved with harmonious regularity; to separate them, is often equivalent to placing them in contradiction; for, no one of them being capable of producing its effect if isolated, but requiring to be combined with the others, they produce, when made to operate alone, instead of their regular effects, the most hideous monstrosities. If you retain in the world only the law of gravitation not combined with that of projection, every thing will be precipitated towards one centre; instead of that infinity of systems which adorn the firmament, you will have only a rude and indigested mass. If you destroy gravitation, and preserve the force of projection, all bodies will be decomposed into imperceptible atoms, and be dispersed, like most subtle ether, through regions of immensity.(15)
CHAPTER XVI.
CONFUSION OF IDEAS IN DISPUTES ON THE FUNDAMENTAL PRINCIPLE.
160. There are, in our opinion, various principles, which, with regard to the human intellect, may be called equally fundamental, both because they serve as foundation in the common and scientific orders, and because they do not rest upon any other, since it is impossible to assign any one which enjoys this quality as an exclusive privilege. In seeking the fundamental principle, it is customary in the schools to observe that they do not endeavor to find a truth from which all others emanate, but an axiom the destruction of which draws with it that of all other truths, and the firmness of which sustains them, at least indirectly, in such manner that whoever denies them may be refuted by indirect demonstration, or reduction ad absurdum; that is, admitting the above axiom, it may follow that whoever denies the others will be convicted of being in opposition to one which he himself has acknowledged to be true.
161. It has been much disputed whether this or that principle merit the preference. We believe that there is here a confusion of ideas, proceeding in great part from not sufficiently marking the limits of testimonies so distinct as those of consciousness, of evidence, and of common sense.
Descartes' famous principle, I think, therefore I am; that of contradiction, it is impossible for a thing to be and not to be at the same time; and what is called the principle of the Cartesians, whatever is contained in the clear and distinct idea of anything, may be affirmed of it with all certainty; are the three principles that have divided the schools. In favor of each, reasons the most powerful, and even conclusive against the others, considering the ground on which the question was placed, have been brought forward.
If you are not certain that you think, argues the partisan of Descartes, you cannot be certain even of the principle of contradiction, or know the criterion of evidence to be valid; for both, it is necessary to think; whoever affirms or denies anything, thinks; without thought, neither affirmation nor negation is possible. But let us admit thought: we have already a foundation, and one of such a nature that we find it in ourselves, attested by consciousness, irresistibly forcing upon us the certainty of its existence. The foundation once laid, we see how the edifice can be raised; for this we need not go out of our own thought; there is the luminous point to conduct us in the path to truth; let us follow its splendor, and having established an immovable point, let us draw from it the mysterious thread to guide us in the labyrinth of science. Thus our principle is the first, the basis of all others; it has sufficient power to sustain itself, sufficient also to impart firmness to others.
This language is certainly reasonable; but it has this fault, that the conviction which it is intended to produce, is neutralized by the not less reasonable language of those who hold a directly contrary opinion. One who maintains the principle of contradiction may reason thus: if you do not admit it to be impossible for the same thing to be and not be at the same time, it may be possible that you think and do not think at the same time; your assertion, then, I think, is of no weight, for its opposite, I do not think, may, at the same time, be true. In this case, the conclusion of existence is invalid; for, even admitting the legitimacy of the consequence, I think, therefore I am, as we know on the other hand that this other premise, I do not think, is possible, the deduction cannot be made. Nor is the other principle: whatever is contained in the clear and distinct idea of anything, may he affirmed of it with all certainty, of any more value without the principle of contradiction; because if being and not-being are possible at the same time, an idea may be clear and obscure, distinct and confused; a predicate may be contained and not contained in the subject; we may be certain and uncertain, affirm and deny; therefore it is of no service.
He who argues thus seems quite reasonable; but strangely enough, the advocate of the third principle brings equally strong arguments against his two adversaries. How is it known, he asks, that the principle of contradiction is true? Only because we see in the idea of being the impossibility of its being and not being at the same time, and vice versa; therefore, we are sure of the principle of contradiction only from the application of the principle: whatever is contained in the clear and distinct idea of anything, may he affirmed of it with all certainty. If nothing can be sustained without relying upon the principle of contradiction—and this is based upon our principle—ours is the foundation of them all.
162. They are all three right, and all three wrong. They are right in asserting that the denial of their respective principles is the ruin of the others. They are all wrong in pretending that the denial of the others is not the ruin of their own. Whence then the dispute? From the confusion of ideas, by which they compare principles of very different orders, all indeed very true, but not to be compared with each other for the same reason that we cannot compare the white and the warm, and dispute whether a thing has more degrees of heat or whiteness. Comparison requires not only opposition in the extremes, but also something in common; if things are totally unlike, comparison is impossible.
Descartes' principle is the enunciation of a simple fact of consciousness; that of contradiction is a truth known by evidence; and that of the Cartesians is an assertion that the criterion of evidence is valid, and that it is a truth of reflection expressing the intellectual impulse by which we are borne to believe the truth of what we know by evidence.
The importance of this question requires a special examination of each of the three principles, which we shall make in the next chapters.(16)
CHAPTER XVII.
THOUGHT AND EXISTENCE.—DESCARTES' PRINCIPLE.
163. Am I certain that I exist? Yes. Can I prove it? No. Proof supposes reasoning; there is no solid reasoning without a firm principle on which to rest it; and there is no firm principle unless we suppose the existence of the reasoning being.
In effect, if he who reasons is not certain of his own existence, he cannot be certain of his own reasoning, since there will be no reasoning if there be no one to reason. Therefore there are, unless we suppose this, no principles on which to rest; there is nothing but illusion, or rather there is neither any illusion, for there can be none where there is no one illuded.
Our existence cannot be demonstrated: we have so clear and strong a consciousness of it that it leaves us no uncertainty; but it is impossible to prove it by reasoning.
164. It is a prejudice and a fatal error to believe ourselves able to prove everything by the use of reason; the principles on which it is founded are prior to its use; the existence of reason, and that of the being that reasons, are prior to both.
Not only are not all things demonstrated, but it may even be demonstrated that some things are indemonstrable. Demonstration is a ratiocination in which we infer from evident propositions, a proposition evidently connected with them. If the premises are of themselves evident, they do not admit of demonstration; if we suppose them in their turn demonstrable, we shall have the same difficulty with