Mental Evolution in Man 6

Mental Evolution in Man 6

Now, from the whole of this passage, it is apparent that the

“comparing,” “compounding,” and “enlarging” of ideas which Locke has

in view, is the _conscious_ or _intentional_ comparing, compounding,

and enlarging that belongs only to the province of reflection, or

thought. He in no way concerns himself with such powers of “comparing

and compounding of ideas” as he allows that animals present, unless

it can be shown that animals are able to “cast about and consider

in what circumstances they are capable to be compared.” And then he

adds, “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.” So far, then, it seems

perfectly obvious that Locke believed animals to present the power

of “comparing and compounding” “simple ideas,” up to the point where

such comparison and composition begins to be assisted by the power of

reflective thought. Therefore, when he immediately afterwards proceeds

to explain abstraction thus: “The same colour being observed to-day

in chalk or snow, which the mind yesterday received from milk, it

considers that appearance alone, makes it a representative of all of

that kind; and having given it the name whiteness, it by that sound

signifies the same quality, wheresoever it be imagined or met with;

and thus universals, whether ideas or terms, are made”—when he thus

proceeds to explain abstraction, we can have no doubt that what he

means by abstraction is the power of _ideally contemplating qualities

as separated from objects_, or, as he expresses it, “_considering_

appearances alone.” Therefore I conclude, without further discussion,

that in the terminology of Locke the word abstraction is applied only

to those higher developments of the faculty which are rendered possible

by reflection.

 

Now, on what does this power of reflection depend? As we shall see

more fully later on, it depends on Language, or on the power of

affixing names to abstract and general ideas. So far as I am aware,

psychologists of all existing schools are in agreement upon this point,

or in holding that the power of affixing names to abstractions is at

once the condition to reflective thought, and the explanation of the

difference between man and brute in respect of ideation.

 

It seems needless to dwell upon a matter where all are agreed,

and concerning which a great deal more will require to be said in

subsequent chapters. At present I am only endeavouring to ascertain

the ground of difference between those psychologists who attribute,

and those who deny to animals the faculty of abstraction. And I think

I am now in a position to render this point perfectly clear. As we

have already seen, and we shall frequently see again, it is allowed

on all hands that animals in their ideation are not shut up to the

special imaging (or remembering) of particular perceptions; but that

they do present the power, as Locke phrases it, of “taking in and

retaining together several combinations of simple ideas.”[21] The

only question, then, really is whether or not this power is the power

of abstraction. In the opinion of some psychologists it is: in the

opinion of other psychologists it is not. Now, on what does an answer

to this question depend? Clearly it depends on whether we hold it

essential to an abstract or general idea that it should be incarnate

as a word. Under one point of view, to “take in and retain together

several combinations of simple ideas,” is to form a general concept of

so many percepts. But, under another point of view, such a combination

of simple ideas is only then entitled to be regarded as a concept, when

it has been conceived by the mind _as_ a concept, or when, in virtue

of having been bodied forth in a name, it stands before the mind as

a distinct and organic offspring of mind—so becoming an object as

well as a product of ideation. For then only can the abstract idea be

known _as_ abstract, and then only can it be available as a definite

creation of thought, capable of being built into any further and more

elaborate structure of ideation. Or, to quote M. Taine, who advocates

this view with great lucidity, “Of our numerous experiences [_i.e._

individual perceptions of a show of araucarias] there remain on the

following day four or five more or less distinct recollections, which

obliterated themselves, leave behind in us a simple, colourless,

vague representation, into which enter as components various reviving

sensations, in an utterly feeble, incomplete, and abortive state. But

this representation is not the general or abstract idea. It is but

its accompaniment, and, if I may say so, the one from which it is

extracted. For the representation, though badly sketched, is a sketch,

the sensible sketch of a distinct individual; in fact, if I make it

persist and dwell upon it, it repeats some special visual sensation;

I see mentally some outline which corresponds only to some particular

araucaria, and, therefore, cannot correspond to the whole class: now,

my abstract idea corresponds to the whole class; it differs, then, from

the representation of an individual. Moreover, my abstract idea is

perfectly clear and determinate; now that I possess it, I never fail

to recognize an araucaria among the various plants I may be shown; it

differs, then, from the confused and floating representation I have of

some particular araucaria. What is there, then, within me so clear and

determinate, corresponding to the abstract character, corresponding

to all araucarias, and corresponding to it alone? A class-name, the

name araucaria.... Thus we conceive the abstract characters of things

by means of abstract names which _are_ our abstract ideas, and the

formation of our abstract ideas is nothing more than the formation of

names.”[22]

 

The real issue, then, is as to what we are to understand by this term

abstraction, or its equivalents. If we are to limit the term to the

faculty of “taking in and retaining together several combinations of

simple ideas,” _plus_ the faculty of giving a name to the resulting

compound, then undoubtedly animals differ from men in not presenting

the faculty of abstraction; for this is no more than to say that

animals have not the faculty of speech. But if the term in question be

not thus limited—if it be taken to mean the first of the above-named

processes irrespective of the second,—then, no less undoubtedly,

animals resemble men in presenting the faculty of abstraction. In

accordance with the former definition, it necessarily follows that

“we conceive the abstract characters of things _by means of abstract

names which_ ARE _our abstract ideas_;” and, therefore, that “the

formation of our abstract ideas is nothing more than the formation of

names.” But, in accordance with the latter view, great as may be the

importance of affixing a name to a compound of simple ideas for the

purpose of giving that compound greater clearness and stability, the

essence of abstraction consists in the act of compounding, or in the

blending together of particular ideas into a general idea of the class

to which the individual things belong. The act of bestowing upon this

compound idea a class-name is quite a distinct act, and one which is

necessarily subsequent to the previous act of compounding: why then, it

may be asked, should we deny that such a compound idea is a general or

abstract idea, only because it is not followed up by the artifice of

giving it a name?

 

In my opinion so much has to be said in favour of both of these views

that I am not going to pronounce against either. What I have hitherto

been endeavouring to do is to reveal clearly that the question whether

or not there is any difference between the brute and the man in respect

of abstraction, is nothing more than a question of terminology. The

real question will arise only when we come to treat of the faculty

of language: the question before us now is merely a question of

psychological classification, or of the nomenclature of ideas. Now, it

appears to me that this question admits of being definitely settled,

and a great deal of needless misunderstanding removed, by a slight

re-adjustment and a closer definition of terms. For it must be on

all hands admitted that, whether or not we choose to denominate

by the word abstraction the faculty of compounding simple ideas

without the faculty of naming the compounds, at the place where this

additional faculty of naming supervenes, so immense an accession to

the previous faculty is furnished, that any system of psychological

nomenclature must be highly imperfect if it be destitute of terms

whereby to recognize the difference. For even if it were conceded by

psychologists of the opposite school that the essence of abstraction

consists in the compounding of simple ideas, and not at all in the

subsequent process of naming the compounds; still the effect of this

subsequent process—or additional faculty—is so prodigious, that

the higher degrees of abstraction which by it are rendered possible,

certainly require to be marked off, or to be distinguished from, the

lower degrees. Without, therefore, in any way prejudicing the question

as to whether we have here a difference of degree or a difference of

kind, I will submit a classification of ideas which, while not open to

objection from either side of this question, will greatly help us in

our subsequent treatment of the question itself.

 

The word “Idea” I will use in the sense defined in my previous

work—namely, as a generic term to signify indifferently any product of

imagination, from the mere memory of a sensuous impression up to the

result of the most abstruse generalization.[23]

 

By “Simple Idea,” “Particular Idea,” or “Concrete Idea,” I understand

the mere memory of a particular sensuous perception.

 

By “Compound Idea,” “Complex Idea,” or “Mixed Idea,” I understand the

combination of simple, particular, or concrete ideas into that kind of

composite idea which is possible without the aid of language.

 

Lastly, by “General Idea,” “Abstract Idea,” “Concept,” or “Notion,” I

understand that kind of composite idea which is rendered possible only

by the aid of language, or by the process of naming abstractions as

abstractions.

 

Now in this classification, notwithstanding that it is needful to

quote at least ten distinct terms which are either now in use among

psychologists or have been used by classical English writers upon

these topics, we may observe that there are really but three separate

classes to be distinguished. Moreover, it will be noticed that, for

the sake of definition, I restrict the first three terms to denote

memories of particular sensuous perceptions—refusing, therefore, to

apply them to those blended memories of many sensuous perceptions

which enable animals and infants (as well as ourselves) to form

compound ideas of kind or class without the aid of language. Again,

the first division of this threefold classification has to do only

with what are termed percepts, while the last has to do only with what

are termed concepts. Now there does not exist any equivalent word to

meet the middle division. And this fact in itself shows most forcibly

the state of ambiguous confusion into which the classification of

ideas has been wrought. Psychologists of both the schools that we are

considering—namely, those who maintain and those who deny that there

is any difference of kind between the ideation of men and animals—are

equally forced to allow that there is a great difference between what

I have called a simple idea and what I have called a compound idea. In

other words, it is a matter of obvious fact that the only distinction

between ideas is _not_ that between the memory of a particular percept

and the formation of a named concept; for between these two classes

of ideas there obviously lies another class, in virtue of which even

animals and infants are able to distinguish individual objects as

belonging to a sort or kind. Yet this large and important territory of

ideation, lying between the other two, is, so to speak, unnamed ground.

Even the words “compound idea,” “complex idea,” and “mixed idea,” are

by me restricted to it without the sanction of previous usage; for, as

above remarked, so completely has the existence of this intermediate

land been ignored, that we have no word at all which is applicable to

it in the same way that Percept and Concept are applicable to the

lands on either side of it. The consequence is that psychologists of

the one school invade this intermediate province of ideation with terms

that are applicable only to the lower province, while psychologists

of the other school invade it with terms which are applicable only to

the higher: the one matter upon which they all appear to agree being

that of ignoring the wide area which this intermediate territory

covers—and, consequently, also ignoring the great distance by which

the territories on either side of it are separated.