Mental Evolution in Man 7

Mental Evolution in Man 7

In addition, then, to the terms Percept and Concept, I coin the word

_Recept_. This is a term which seems exactly to meet the requirements

of the case. For as perception literally means a _taking wholly_, and

conception a _taking together_, reception means a _taking again_.

Consequently, a recept is that which is taken again, or a _recognition_

of things previously _cognized_. Now, it belongs to the essence of

what I have defined as compound ideas (recepts), that they arise in

the mind out of a repetition of more or less similar percepts. Having

seen a number of araucarias, the mind _receives_ from the whole mass

of individuals which it _perceives_ a composite idea of Araucaria,

or of a class comprising all individuals of that kind—an idea which

differs from a general or abstract idea only in not being consciously

fixed and signed as an idea by means of an abstract name. Compound

ideas, therefore, can only arise out of a _repetition_ of more or less

similar percepts; and hence the appropriateness of designating them

recepts. Moreover, the associations which we have with the cognate

words, Receive, Reception, &c., are all of the _passive_ kind, as the

associations which we have with the words Conceive, Conception, &c.,

are of the _active_ kind. Now, here again, the use of the word recept

is seen to be appropriate to the class of ideas in question, because

in receiving such ideas the mind is passive, as in conceiving abstract

ideas the mind is active. In order to form a concept, the mind must

intentionally bring together its percepts (or the memories of them),

for the purpose of binding them up as a bundle of similars, and

labelling the bundle with a name. But in order to form a recept, the

mind need perform no such intentional actions: the similarities among

the percepts with which alone this order of ideation is concerned, are

so marked, so conspicuous, and so frequently _repeated_ in observation,

that in the very moment of perception they sort themselves, and,

as it were, fall into their appropriate classes spontaneously, or

without any conscious effort on the part of the percipient. We do

not require to name stones to distinguish them from loaves, nor fish

to distinguish them from scorpions. Class distinctions of this kind

are conveyed in the very act of perception—_e.g._ the case of the

infant with the glass bottles,—and, as we shall subsequently see, in

the case of the higher animals admit of being carried to a wonderful

pitch of discriminative perfection. Recepts, then, are _spontaneous

associations, formed unintentionally_ as what may be termed

_unperceived abstractions_.[24]

 

One further remark remains to be added before our nomenclature of

ideas can be regarded as complete. It will have been noticed that

the term “general idea” is equally appropriate to ideas of class or

kind, whether or not such ideas are named. The ideas Good-for-eating

and Not-good-for-eating are as general to an animal as they are to a

man, and have in each case been formed in the same way—namely, by

an accumulation of particular experiences spontaneously assorted in

consciousness. General ideas of this kind, however, have not been

contemplated by previous writers while dealing with the psychology of

generalization: hence the term “general,” like the term “abstract,”

has by usage become restricted to those higher products of ideation

which depend on the faculty of language. And the only words that I can

find to have been used by any previous writers to designate the ideas

concerned in that lower kind of generalization which does not depend

on language, are the words above given—namely, Complex, Compound,

and Mixed. Now, none of these words are so good as the word General,

because none of them express the notion of _genus_ or _class_; and the

great distinction between the idea which an animal or an infant has,

say of an individual man and of men in general, is not that the one

idea is simple, and the other complex, compound, or mixed; but that the

one idea is _particular_ and the other _general_. Therefore consistency

would dictate that the term “general” should be applied to _all_

ideas of class or kind, as distinguished from ideas of particulars

or individuals—irrespective of the _degree_ of generality, and

irrespective, therefore, of the accident whether or not, _quâ_ general,

such ideas are dependent on language. Nevertheless, as the term has

been through previous usage restricted to ideas of the higher order of

generality, I will not introduce confusion by extending its use to the

lower order, or by speaking of an animal as capable of generalizing. A

parallel term, however, is needed; and, therefore, I will speak of the

general or class ideas which are formed without the aid of language as

_generic_. This word has the double advantage of retaining a verbal

as well as a substantial analogy with the allied term _general_. It

also serves to indicate that generic ideas, or recepts, are not only

ideas of class or kind, but have been _generated_ from the intermixture

of individual ideas—_i.e._ from the blended memories of particular

percepts.

 

My nomenclature of ideas, therefore, may be presented in a tabular form

thus:—

 

{ General, Abstract, or Notional = Concepts.

IDEAS { Complex, Compound, or Mixed = Recepts, or Generic Ideas.

{ Simple, Particular, or Concrete = Memories of Percepts.[25]

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER III.

 

LOGIC OF RECEPTS.

 

 

We have seen that the great border-land, or _terra media_, lying

between particular ideas and general ideas has been strangely neglected

by psychologists, and we may now be prepared to find that a careful

exploration of this border-land is a matter of the highest importance

for the purposes of our inquiry. I will, therefore, devote the present

chapter to a full consideration of what I have termed generic ideas, or

recepts.

 

It has already been remarked that, in order to form any of these

generic ideas, the mind does not require to combine _intentionally_

the particular ideas which go to construct it: a recept differs from

a concept in that it is _received_, not _conceived_. The percepts

out of which a recept is composed are of so comparatively _simple_ a

character, are so frequently _repeated_ in observation, and present

among themselves resemblances or analogies so _obvious_, that the

mental images of them run together, as it were, spontaneously, or

in accordance with the primary laws of merely sensuous association,

without requiring any conscious act of comparison. This is a truth

which has been noticed by several previous writers. For instance, I

have in this connection already quoted a passage from M. Taine, and,

if necessary, could quote another, wherein he very aptly likens what

I have called recepts to the unelaborated ore out of which the metal

of a concept is afterwards smelted. And still more to the purpose

is the following passage, which I take from Mr. Sully:—“The more

_concrete_ concepts, or _generic_ images, are formed to a large extent

by a _passive_ process of _assimilation_. The likeness among dogs, for

example, is so great and striking that when a child, already familiar

with one of these animals, sees a second, he recognizes it as identical

with the first in certain obvious respects. The representation of the

first combines with the representation of the second, bringing into

distinct relief the common dog features, more particularly the canine

form. In this way the images of different dogs come to overlap, so to

speak, giving rise to a typical image of dog. Here there is very little

of _active_ direction of the mind from one thing to another in order

to discover where the resemblance lies: _the resemblance forces itself

upon the mind_. When, however, the resemblance is less striking, as in

the case of more abstract concepts, a _distinct operation of active

comparison is involved_.”[26]

 

Similarly, M. Perez remarks, “the necessity which children are under

of seeing in a detached and scrappy manner in order to see well, makes

them continually practise that kind of abstraction by which we separate

qualities from objects. From those objects which the child has already

distinguished as individual, there come to him at different moments

particularly vivid impressions.... Dominant sensations of this kind, by

their energy or frequency, tend to efface the idea of the objects from

which they proceed, _to separate or abstract themselves_.... The flame

of a candle is not always equally bright or flickering; tactile, sapid,

olfactory, and auditive impressions do not always strike the child’s

sensorium with the same intensity, nor during the same length of time.

This is why the recollections of individual forms, although strongly

graven on their intelligence, lose by degrees their first precision,

so that the idea of a tree, for instance, furnished by direct and

perfectly distinct memories, comes back to the mind in a vague and

indistinct form, which might be taken for a general idea.”[27]

 

Again, in the opinion of John Stuart Mill, “It is the doctrine of

one of the most fertile thinkers of modern times, Auguste Comte,

that besides the logic of signs, there is a logic of images, and a

logic of feelings. In many of the familiar processes of thought, and

especially in uncultured minds, a visual image serves instead of a

word. Our visual sensations, perhaps only because they are almost

always present along with the impressions of our other senses, have a

facility of becoming associated with them. Hence, the characteristic

visual appearance of an object easily gathers round it, by association,

the ideas of all other peculiarities which have, in frequent

experience, co-existed with that appearance; and, summoning up these

with a strength and certainty far surpassing that of merely casual

associations which it may also raise, it concentrates the attention

on them. This is an image serving for a sign—the logic of images.

The same function may be fulfilled by a feeling. Any strong and

highly interesting feeling, connected with one attribute of a group,

spontaneously classifies all objects according as they possess, or

do not possess, that attribute. We may be tolerably certain that the

things capable of satisfying hunger form a perfectly distinct class in

the mind of any of the more intelligent animals; quite as much as if

they were able to use or understand the word food. We here see in a

strong light the important truth that hardly anything universal can be

affirmed in psychology except the laws of association.”[28]

 

Furthermore, Mansel tersely conveys the truth which I am endeavouring

to present, thus:—“The mind recognizes the impression which a tree

makes on the retina of the eye: this is presentative consciousness. It

then depicts it. From many such pictures it forms a general notion, and

to that notion it at last appropriates a name.”[29] Almost in identical

language the same distinction is conveyed by Noiré thus:—“All trees

hitherto seen by me may leave in my imagination a mixed image, a kind

of ideal representation of trees. Quite different from this is the concept, which is never an image.”