Mental Evolution in Man 5

Mental Evolution in Man 5

Psychologists are agreed that what they call particular ideas, or

ideas of particular objects, are of the nature of mental images,

or memories of such objects—as when the sound of a friend’s voice

brings before my mind the idea of that particular man. Psychologists

are further agreed that what they term general ideas arise out of an

assemblage of particular ideas, as when from my repeated observation

of numerous individual men I form the idea of Man, or of an abstract

being who comprises the resemblances between all these individual men,

without regard to their individual differences. Hence, particular

ideas answer to percepts, while general ideas answer to concepts: an

individual preception (or its repetition) gives rise to its mnemonic

equivalent as a particular idea; while a group of similar, though not

altogether similar perceptions, gives rise to its mnemonic equivalent

as a conception, which, therefore, is but another name for a general

idea, thus _generated_ by an assemblage of particular ideas. Just as

Mr. Galton’s method of superimposing on the same sensitive plate a

number of individual images gives rise to a blended photograph, wherein

each of the individual constituents is partially and proportionally

represented; so in the sensitive tablet of memory, numerous images of

previous perceptions are fused together into a single conception, which

then stands as a composite picture, or class-representation, of these

its constituent images. Moreover, in the case of a sensitive plate it

is only those particular images which present more or less numerous

points of resemblance that admit of being thus blended into a distinct

photograph; and so in the case of the mind, it is only those particular

ideas which admit of being run together in a class that can go to

constitute a clear concept.[15]

 

So much, then, for ideas as particular and general. Next, the term

abstract has been used by different psychologists in different

senses. For my own part, I will adhere to the usage of Locke in the

passage above quoted, which is the usage adopted by the majority of

modern writers upon these subjects. According to this usage, the term

“abstract idea” is practically synonymous with the term “general

idea.” For the process of abstraction consists in mentally analysing

the complex which is presented by any given object of perception, and

ideally extracting those features or qualities upon which the attention

is for the time being directed. Even the most individual of objects

cannot fail to present an assemblage of qualities, and although it is

true that such an object could not be divided into all its constituent

qualities actually, it does admit of being so divided ideally. The

individual man whom I know as John Smith could not be disintegrated

into so much heat, flesh, bone, blood, colour, &c., without ceasing to

be a man at all; but this does not hinder that I may ideally abstract

his heat (by thinking of him as a corpse), his flesh, bones, and blood

(by thinking of him as a dissected “subject”), his white colour of

skin, his black colour of hair, and so forth. Now, it is evident that

in the last resort our power of forming general ideas, or concepts,

is dependent on this power of abstraction, or the power of ideally

separating one or more of the qualities presented by percepts, _i.e._

by objects of particular ideas. My general idea of heat has only been

rendered possible on account of my having ideally abstracted the

quality of heat from sundry heated bodies, in most of which it has

co-existed with numberless different associations of other qualities.

But this does not hinder that, wherever I meet with that one quality, I

recognize it as the same; and hence I arrive at a general or abstract

idea of heat, apart from any other quality with which in particular

cases it may happen to be associated.[16]

 

This faculty of ideal abstraction furnishes the _conditio sine quâ

non_ to all grades in the development of thought; for by it alone

can we compare idea with idea, and thus reach ever onwards to higher

and higher levels, as well as to more and more complex structures

of ideation. As to the history of this development we shall have

more to say presently. Meanwhile I desire only to remark two things

in connection with it. The first is that throughout this history

the development is a _development_: the faculty of abstraction is

everywhere the same in _kind_. And the next thing is that this

development is everywhere dependent on the faculty of _language_. A

great deal will require to be said on both these points in subsequent

chapters; but it is needful to state the facts thus early—and they

are facts which psychologists of all schools now accept,—in order

to render intelligible the next step which I am about to make in my

classification of ideas. This step is to distinguish between the

faculty of abstraction where it is not dependent upon language,

and where it is so dependent. I have just said that the faculty of

abstraction is _everywhere_ the same in kind; but, as I immediately

proceeded to affirm that the _development_ of abstraction is dependent

upon language, I have thus far left the question open whether or not

there can be any rudimentary abstraction without language. It is to

this question, therefore, that we must next address ourselves.

 

On the one hand it may be argued that by restricting the term abstract

to ideas which can only be formed by the aid of language, we are

drawing an arbitrary line—fixing upon one degree in the continuous

scale of a faculty which is throughout the same in kind. For, say some

psychologists, it is evident that in our own case most of our more

simple abstract or general ideas are not dependent for their existence

upon words. Or, if this be disputed, these psychologists are able to

point to infants, and even to the lower animals, in proof of their

assertion. For an infant undoubtedly exhibits the possession of simple

general ideas prior to the possession of any articulate language;

and after it begins to use such language it does so by spontaneously

widening the generality of signification attaching to its original

words. In proof of both these statements numberless observations might

be quoted, and further on will be quoted; but here I need only wait

to give one in proof of each. As regards the first, Professor Preyer

tells us that at eight months old,[17] and therefore long before it

was able to speak, his child was able to classify all glass bottles

as resembling—or belonging to the order of—a feeding-bottle.[18]

As regards the second, M. Taine tells us of a little girl eighteen

months old, who was amused by her mother hiding in play behind a piece

of furniture, and saying “Coucou.” Again, when her food was too hot,

when she went too near the fire or candle, and when the sun was warm,

she was told “Ça brûle.” One day, on seeing the sun disappear behind

a hill, she exclaimed, “‘A b’ûle coucou,” thereby showing both the

formation and combination of general ideas, “not only expressed by

words which we do not employ (and, therefore, not by any other words

that she can have previously employed), but also corresponding to

ideas, _consequently to classes of objects and general characters_

which in our cases have disappeared. The hot soup, the fire on the

hearth, the flame of the candle, the noonday heat in the garden, and

last of all, the sun, make up one of these classes. The figure of the

nurse or mother disappearing behind a hill, form the other class.”[19]

 

Coming next to the case of brutes, and to begin with the simplest

kind of illustrations, all the higher animals have general ideas of

“Good-for-eating,” and “Not-good-for-eating,” quite apart from any

particular objects of which either of these qualities happens to be

characteristic. For, if we give any of the higher animals a morsel of

food of a kind which it has never before met with, the animal does

not immediately snap it up, nor does it immediately reject our offer;

but it subjects the morsel to a careful examination before consigning

it to the mouth. This proves, if anything can, that such an animal

has a general or abstract idea of sweet, bitter, hot, or, in general,

Good-for-eating and Not-good-for-eating—the motives of the examination

clearly being to ascertain which of these two general ideas of kind

is appropriate to the particular object examined. When we ourselves

select something which we suppose will prove good to eat, we do not

require to call to our aid any of that higher class of abstract ideas

for which we are indebted to our powers of language: it is enough to

determine our decision if the particular appearance, smell, or taste of

the food makes us feel that it probably conforms to our general idea

of Good-for-eating. And, therefore, when we see animals determining

between similar alternatives by precisely similar methods, we cannot

reasonably doubt that the psychological processes are similar; for,

as we know that these processes in ourselves do not involve any of

the higher powers of our minds, there is no reason to doubt that the

processes, which in their manifestations appear so similar, really

are what they appear to be—the same. Again, if I see a fox prowling

about a farm-yard, I infer that he has been led by hunger to go where

he has a general idea that there are a good many eatable things to be

fallen in with—just as I myself am led by a similar impulse to visit

a restaurant. Similarly, if I say to my dog the word “Cat,” I arouse

in his mind an idea, not of any cat in particular—for he sees so many

cats,—but of a Cat in general. Or when this same dog accidentally

crosses the track of a strange dog, the scent of this strange dog makes

him stiffen his tail and erect the hair on his back in preparation for

a fight; yet the scent of an unknown dog must arouse in his mind, not

the idea of any dog in particular, but an idea of the animal Dog in

general.

 

Thus far, it will be remembered, I have been presenting evidence in

favour of the view that both infants and animals show themselves

capable of forming general ideas of a simple order, and, therefore,

that to the formation of such ideas the use of language is not

essential. I will next consider what has to be said on the other

side of the question; for, as previously remarked, many—I may say

most—psychologists repudiate this kind of evidence _in toto_, as not

germain to the subject of debate. First, therefore, I will consider

their objections to this kind of evidence; next I will sum up the whole

question; and, lastly, I will suggest a classification of ideas which

in my opinion ought to be accepted by both sides as constituting a

common ground of reconciliation.

 

To begin with another quotation from Locke, “How far brutes partake

in this faculty [_i.e._ that of comparing ideas] is not easy to

determine; I imagine they have it not in any great degree: for though

they probably have several ideas distinct enough, yet it seems to me

to be the prerogative of human understanding, when it has sufficiently

distinguished any ideas, so as to perceive them to be perfectly

different, and so consequently two, to cast about and consider in what

circumstances they are capable to be compared: and therefore I think

beasts compare not their ideas further than some sensible circumstances

annexed to the objects themselves. The other power of comparing, which

may be observed in men, belonging to general ideas, and useful only to

abstract reasonings, we may probably conjecture beasts have not.

 

“The next operation we may observe in the mind about its ideas, is

composition; whereby it puts together several of those simple ones it

has received from sensation and reflection, and combines them into

complex ones. Under this head of composition may be reckoned also that

of enlarging; wherein, though the composition does not so much appear

as in more complex ones, yet it is nevertheless a putting several

ideas together, though of the same kind. Thus, by adding several units

together, we make the idea of a dozen; and by putting together the

repeated ideas of several perches, we frame that of a furlong.

 

“In this, also, I suppose, brutes come far short of men; for though

they take in, and retain together several combinations of simple ideas,

as possibly the shape, smell, and voice of his master make up the

complex idea a dog has of him, or rather are so many distinct marks

whereby he knows him; yet I do not think they do of themselves ever

compound them, and make complex ideas. And perhaps even where we think

they have complex ideas, it is only one simple one that directs them

in the knowledge of several things, which possibly they distinguish

less by sight than we imagine; for I have been credibly informed that

a bitch will nurse, play with, and be fond of young foxes, as much as,

and in place of, her puppies; if you can but get them once to suck her

so long, that her milk may go through them. And those animals, which

have a numerous brood of young ones at once, appear not to have any

knowledge of their number: for though they are mightily concerned for

any of their young that are taken from them whilst they are in sight

or hearing; yet if one or two be stolen from them in their absence, or

without noise, they appear not to miss them, or have any sense that their number is lessened.”