The Divine Lamp

Article 7. Fifth defect: Smith does not understand the reason why common nouns and proper nouns are severally so called.

146.  Having thus cleared up the ideas attached severally to the words proper noun and common noun, let us continue our analysis of the reasoning of Smith.

The proper name, then, is imposed on a being to express its individuality alone.  But as this name has no necessary relation with that individuality, one is free to apply it to the individuality of any other being one pleases.

Thus, for example, a father who has twelve sons may, if so inclined, call each of them in succession by the proper name of Peter.  I will, moreover, suppose that all persons now living who answer to the name of Peter are assembled together before us.  Does it follow that this name Peter, because applied to so many people, is a common noun?  Certainly not; and the reason is clear.  The fact of a name being common or proper does not depend upon its being used for naming one individual or many, but on the manner in which it names them.  If it names them, in consideration of a quality common to them all-as, for instance, in the case of the term man, which distinguishes human beings through humanity-then it is common.  But if it names them purely and simply with reference to their individuality, it is proper.  Hence even if every man in this world were called Peter, all that we could say of it would be that every man had two names, one common-i.e. man; and one proper-i.e. Peter.  As a matter of fact, each of us has the two names, and it is a mere accident that out proper name is, or is not, the same as that of our neighbors.  Indeed, the number of proper names is very small in comparison with the whole human race; nay, there might even be but one proper name for all men alike.

147.   Now, this reveals a new fallacy in the reasoning of Smith-I mean, in that part where he says, though without any proof, that the savage changes proper names into common, simply by applying them to many individuals; as if nothing else were wanted for effecting such a change.  So far is this from being true, that even if the name of Peter were, as I have said, given to all the men of a province, of a kingdom, of the world, it would still remain proper, since it would indicate men, not through their common humanity, but through the individuality of each.

Suppose, then, that the savage had given a proper name to the first cave which sheltered him from inclemency of the weather, another to the first tree with the fruit of which he relieved his hunger, a third to the first fountain at which he quenched his thirst; and suppose, further, that on seeing afterwards one, two, or three similar caves, one, two, or three similar trees or fountains, he had also given each of them the same name as he used in the first instance, we should thus have four caves, four trees, four fountains, called respectively by the same name; but it would still remain to be seen whether this savage, in applying one and the same name to four similar things, used it as  a proper or as a common noun.

Now, it is clear that in no case id he, as Smith asserts, denote a ‘multitude’ of individuals; since each time he said cave, tree, fountain, he meant only one cave, one tree, one fountain.  But even if he had made these names collective by saying in the plural caves, trees, fountains, that would not have sufficed by itself to prove that the names were ‘common’ (see146).  The only criterion for judging whether they were common or proper consists in knowing whether in them he contradistinguished the  individuals by means of qualities which they held in common, or designated those individuals through their own individualities alone

Ultimate grounds are either absolute or relative.  The former are, strictly speaking, alone ultimate, and, as such, constitute the scope of General Philsophy;  whereas the latter are ultimate only in reference to a determinate branch of science, and hence from the scope of Special Philosophies, such as those of matematics, physics, history, politics, art, ect.

Though Rosmini prefers the term ultimate grounds, he does not object to calling them likewise first grounds.  “ultimate grounds,”  he says, “and first grounds  are equivalent expressions, because what is last in the one direction of thought is first in the other.”  Compare the Aristotelian doctrine, that what is first in essence or nature is last in generation, or, as St Thomas puts it, “What is first and better known in its nature is last and less known relatively to us.”  Of the relation of Philosophy to the other sciences  Rosmini says, “The ultimate grounds outside of the world and the ultimate grounds in the world, these form the object of philosophy, which thus occupies the last two and highest steps of the pyramid we have described.  Hence philosophy remains clearly separated from, and elevated above, the other sciences, as the guide and mother of them all.  These form the lower steps of the pyramid, depending upon the highest two and receiving their light from them”

Article 6.  Forth defect: Smith does not understand the true distinction between common and proper nouns.

144.  I think that by this time the reader must already have begun to feel serious misgivings about a reasoning which, although it seemed at first sight very plausible, and based on the apparently truthful description of a perfectly natural fact, has been found, upon examination, to contain, in a few phrases, so many inaccuracies.

Adam Smith gave us to understand that common nouns simply signified ‘multitudes’ of individuals; but on enumerating the four kinds of names expressive of such ‘multitudes,’ we discovered that not one of them was common to many individuals.

We next examined the general or abstract names, which denote single qualities, essential or accidental, and we found that they also are not common to many individuals, but proper to a common quality.

Lastly, in these general or abstract names, or rather in the ideas which they represent to us, we have found that their nature consists simply in expressing a judgment whereby a quality is attributed to a subject, or in designating an object through a quality which indicates or makes it known to us, and which being common to many subjects, causes the same name to be applicable to each of them.  But we must proceed.

145.  The nature of common nouns being now ascertained, let us see what is the nature of proper nouns.

Both common and proper nouns express individuals and not collections of individuals, but with this difference: that while the common noun designates and distinguishes an  individual through a quality belonging to it, the proper noun makes known the individual, not through a quality of it, but directly; it expressed, so to speak, int individuality.  Now, individuality as such is essential incommunicable, essentially exclusive of everything but its own proper self.  One individual cannot be another.  hence a proper noun can apply to one individual only.  On the contrary, a common noun, by indicating a being through a quality which may be found equally in other beings, does not single it out with such precision as absolutely to contra-distinguish and isolate it from all others.  Whatever being has the same quality is entitled to the same name.  Thus the word man, unless when used in the abstract sense of humanity, signifies not many but only one man; yet as the one man is named from humanity, a quality common to all other men, the same word can be applied to them as well as to him.  But the case would be different if, instead of calling him man, I were to call him Peter; for this second name would not be derived from a quality common to other men, but would be used by me expressly to signify that individuality which belongs exclusively to Peter, and which in consequence cannot be communicated to any other person.

Article 4.  Second defect: Smith does not distinguish the names indicating multitudes of individuals from those which indicate abstract qualities.

141.  There are names which do not indicate individuals but only their qualities, whether essential or accidental, and considered apart from the rest that goes to make up an individual.  It were useless either to deny or blink this fact.  For example, when I say human nature, hardness, fluidity, &c., I express accidental qualities.

Now these names may, indeed, be called general, but not common; general, because they do not signify individuals, but qualities common to many individuals; not common because the quality to which they severally apply, although found in many individuals, is but one.

That these names cannot rightly be styled ‘common’ is also seen y the fact that, in contradistinction to all common names, they can never be used in the plural number.  Each of them expresses a single thing, abstract and entirely simple, one and indivisible, and therefore impossible to be confused with any other.

Thus while we all speak of human nature, animalities, vegetativeness, whiteness, & c.  

Here, then, is a distinct class of names, which neither designates individuals nor fall under the denomination of ‘common;’ but can only be called generarl or abstract.

Article 5.   Third defect: Smith confounds with common names the names indicating multitudes of individuals and those indicating abstract qualities.

142.  From these general or abstract names, or rather from the idea represented by them, spring those names which are with all propriety called common, because they are applicable to each of many individuals; for instance, the words man, vegetable, animal, cavern, tree, fountain, &c., as also the adjectives white, hard, &c., whether they be used simply as adjectives, or whether, by an elliptical mode of speech, they be taken as substantives.

Now, unless, in analyzing the meaning of these names, we proceed with great caution, we shall easily be deceived by the artificial character of modern languages.  We are generally inclined to believe that to each word there corresponds but one idea, whereas that is not so.  On the contrary, instances of this kind are extremely rare.  The nature of language, and especially of modern languages, is such that in by far the greatest number of cases a single word expresses an idea of the most complex description; that is to say, composed of many other ideas.  Not only this, but that very same word indicates also the link which binds all those ideas together and gives them unity.  Hence it comes to pass that on submitting the meaning of a single term to analysis, we can often translate it into a proposition, and even several propositions.

This is true of the names of which I speak.  The word man, for example, is equivalent to the proposition, ‘A being is possessed of humanity;’ the word tree is convertible into the formula, ‘A being possessed of those properties which constitutes  a tree, and which, if they were to be summed up in a single word, which is wanting in the English language, would be called treeishness.’  And so with these names generally.  In all of them we attribute to beings a certain quality they are found to possess.  hence, under each of these names there lurks a judgment by which, as often as we pronounce or think of them, we attribute a predicate to a subject, while for the sake of brevity we express this operation by a single word which gives us its result, by representing a single coup d’ aeil the relation which we have discovered between that predicate and that subject.  Now, it is only these names which can with propriety be designated as common, since they are applicable to each individual of a certain class.  Thus the word man applies severally to every member of the human race; the word tree to every tree, no matter which; the word cavern to all caverns without exception; and so of all the rest.

143.  Such being the case, I must entirely disagree with the opinion of Adam Smith, that a common noun indicates a ‘multitude’ of individuals.  On the contrary, it invariably indicates one ‘individual’ only; but it does so through a quality common to many, and this is why, after being applied to one individual, it can, ad libitum, be applied to another, and then to another, and so on in succession to all the individuals characterized by the same quality.  If it were true that the word tree, for example, signified a ‘multitude’ of trees, the consequences would be that, when we said trees, we should express many such ‘multitudes.’  But no one has ever thought that, when using this plural, he was expressing anything more than a number of individual trees.

Article 3 Defects in the above passage.-First defect: It does not distinguish the several species of names indicating multitudes of individuals.

138.   The first thing I have to observe on the above passage is that it speaks of common names as though they were all of one and the same kind.  Now, it being well known that there are several kinds of common names, I must examine whether it be correct to treat of these names without indicating their diverse species, and whether the reasoning of Adam Smith be applicable to every species or to only one.

The only notion which he gives us of a common name is, that it signifies a ‘multitude’ of individual.  Let us see, then, in the first place, if this applies to all the species of common names-in other words, if all names expressing a ‘multitude’ of individuals are common in the true sense of the term.

The first species consists of the numerals-two, three, four, five, &c.  Leaving aside the abstraction belonging to these names, and owing  to which we cannot apply them to a species of individuals without naming the particular species which we mean-e.g. two, three, four, five, men, &c.-we will consider them only in so far as they are capable of representing to us a multitude of individuals.

Now, when I say ten men, ten cities, &c., I certainly denote a ‘multitude’ of individuals; but it cannot on that account be said that the numeral ten is common, i.e. applicable to each of those individuals-to each city, to each man, &c.  It is not true, then, that all the names indicative of a multitude of individuals can, with propriety of language, be called ‘common.’

The numerals have therefore this peculiarity, that, together with the multitude, they state its numerousness, they fix precisely the number of the individuals contained in that multitude.

139.  The second species is formed of those words which in naming a multitude of individuals do not define it numerousness with precision, but only in a general way.  Such are the words few, some, many, a great many, &c.  These also, not being applicable to each of the individuals of the respective multitudes, are not entitled to the appellation of ‘common.’

The third species comprises those names which do not express the numerousness of the multitude indicated by them, either precisely or in general way, but only relatively to some idea which is connected therewith: for instance, the words nations, tribe, family, assembly,&c.  Now, although the word family does not by itself give us any clue for knowing how many persons there are in the family, or whether it be large or small, yet from the nature of the thing we can at once understand that a family is a far smaller collection than would be suggested by the word nation.  But inasmuch as these names also, indicative though they be of a multitude, are not applicable to the single individuals belonging to it, they must be excluded from the category of common names.

140.  Lastly, all the plurals, such as men, animals, houses, &c., indicate multitudes of individuals, but in such a manner as to determine nothing whatever about their numerousness.  Hence they constitute a fourth species of collective names to which, for the reason already stated, the qualification of ‘common’ cannot be attributed.

Regarding this indeterminateness proper to plurals some other observations ought to be made; but, not to interrupt the thread of our discussion, I will, for the present, go on with the enumeration of the various kinds of names, that we may see which among them are of such a nature as easily to be mistaken for those to which the designation of common names properly belongs.

Having summarized these systems as they relate to the question of the origin of ideas, Rosmini not offers a brief critique.

The observations of Reid on the subject of the Sensism of Locke and Condillac, Berkeley and Hume, were perfectly just, being founded on a more complete study of the phenomena of the human spirit.

He said, if man had no other faculty but that of sensation, he would feel only, but he would never think.  Thought is something beyond sensation, for we think of what we don not feel; we arrive at substance, for example, at cause and spirit by thought, yet they do not fall under our senses.  Therefore the objects of  human thought are not merely simple sensations.  However evident the fact may be it is difficult to understand how it is.  It is still more difficult to understand, though equally evident, that we think of the sensations in a way different from that in which we feel the sensation itself.  Our mind, in fact, affirms the sensation in itself, and this indifferently whether it is actually present, or past, or future.  For example, I think of the pleasant odor of the rose I experienced yesterday; the sensation itself is no longer present, but the thought of it remains.  Therefore “the sensation” itself is not the same thing as “the thought of the sensation.”

We may say the same as to the future sensations.  I think over the pleasant sensations I expect tomorrow in the chase or at a banquet.  The sensations do not yet exist, yet the thought of them is present.  Thought therefore differs essentially from sensation.  This being the case, I am bound to conclude that even when the sensation and the thought of the sensation are both present at the same time, they not only differ essentially, but are independent of one another.
Moreover, who has not observed how many times we experience sensations without thinking of them, Especially if they are not very vivid or are habitual and manifold, such as we experience in every moment of our existence.  They pass unobserved, our mind, particularly if distracted or otherwise occupied, has not the time to reflect upon them.  We can therefore easily understand that there are beings which are purely sensitive, and others in whom thought is united with sensation; the first are those that have brute animal life, the second are human beings.  This distinction once admitted demolishes the fundamental principle of Locke and his followers.  Locke confounded sensation with thought, and attempted to apply to thought what actually applied to sensation only.

The True Nature of Thought.

Sofar Reid was right in dealing with the Sensists, but in attempting to confute the Sceptics he found himself stranded.  For, seeing the necessity of basing philosophy on thought, and of giving a satisfactory explanation of the phenomena of thought, and seeing that these could in no way be accounted for y the senses only, he boldly took the line of declaring that they were to be attributed to a particular and essential instinct of human nature.  In this he took notice of the subjective part of thought only, entirely losing sight of the objective element, and so failed to grasp the true nature of thought itself.   For it is of the nature of thought that there is always present to the subject, an object which can never be confounded with the subject, but on the contrary is constantly distinguished from it; and in this continual and necessary distinction the thought itself consists, so that if ever the object were confounded with the subject, thought would thereby cease to exist.

This error or omission of Reid was taken advantage of by Kant, thence to raise doubts, not merely as to the existence of bodies, but as to all the objects of human cognition, all of which he maintains are only products, as we have already seen, of an irresistible instinct of human nature, and, therefore, mere subjective creations of the human spirit.  The transcendental Idealism of Fichte is nothing but a logical complement of the system of Kant.

We may expose the error of Kant, which was at the root of many other errors and of German Pantheism, by the following reasoning: "I know that I am not the object of my thought, and that the object of my thought is not myself.  Thus I know that I am not the bread that I eat, the sun which I behold, the person with whom I converse.  This is self-evident, because I am so known to myself that if I were not so known I should no longer be.  Therefore nothing can be me without my knowing it.  But I do not know that the bread, the sun, the person I converse with are myself.  Therefore I know that they are not myself.”

Kant could only reply to this that we are deceived, and that things might easily be ourselves without our knowing it.  But this could not e, for if I did ot know it I should not be myself.  Without this consciousness of self the Ego would not be Ego but something else.  Therefore the objects which stand before my thought are essentially distinct from myself.  For the same reason they cannot be modifications of myself, because if so they would exist in my consciousness as modifications of myself, since the nature of the Ego consists in this consciousness of myself.

The Bridge of Communication between ourselves and the external objects.

But the Idealists object: What then is “the bridge of communication between the Ego, myself, and the objects of the Ego?  Can the Ego go out of itself so as to reach a thing outside of itself?”

To this we reply, that however difficult the question may be, even though it were found inexplicable, this would in no way weaken our assertion of a fact already fully verified.  Sound logic demands that when we have a verified fact before us it is not to be given up because we do not know how to explain it.  The only conclusion is that we have to admit our ignorance.  This, however, is not our present position.  Reflection on this matter will show that this objection arises from what we may call a certain materialistic ontology, which leads our Idealists to apply to all being, whether spiritual or corporeal, the laws which belong to matter only.  For example, a law of corporeal beings is the impenetrability of bodies, so that one body cannot stand in the place occupied by another.  But how do we know that this law holds good for incorporeal beings or spirits?  There is no reason why spirits should not be subject to wholly different laws, and this, in fact, is what we might expect from the difference between the nature of body and that of spirit.

How then can we judge of this latter nature?

Certainly not by arguing from the analogy of bodies, but by observing and well considering what spirits are in themselves.  Now if we observe and consider well this intelligent spirit of ours, and its actual and passive qualities, we come clearly to see that it obeys a totally opposite law from that which governs bodies, and that far from  our being able to say that it is impenetrable in its nature, we find that the objects of thought may exist in it, not merely without being confounded with it, but whilst remaining perfectly distinct and different from it.  The very word “object”  used in common parlance expresses this fact by its very etymology, meaning something set opposite-objectum.  Such is the result of observation, and since it involves no absurdity it ought to be accepted.  There is no need then of any bridge of communication between our spirit and external things, since this may be found immediately in the spirit according to that immaterial mode which we call cognition or knowledge.

A consideration of the order of things sensible will lead us to a similar reflection if we regard the soul as the sensitive principle.  Now no true principle can exist as such without having a sensible term, or something which it feels.  We do not call this an object, but a term, reserving the former word for the intellectual order only.  Every sensitive principle, therefore, has a term which it feels.

Now it is a fact of experience that the term which is felt remains always in the sentient principle, and cannot go out of or beyond it.  It is also a fact of experience that the thing felt is not the principle that feels.  Now under the denomination of the thing felt or sensible term are included all sensible things without exception.

From these undeniable facts there flow two consequences: the first, that the sensible things or things felt can never be confounded with the sensitive principle which feels them, and this is enough to refute completely the Idealism of Berkeley; the second is that which Galluppi has well remarked-namely, the sense affirms and perceives the external things immediately without needing any bridge of communications whatever.

These considerations prove conclusively that the systems of Kant and Fichte are based on an incomplete observation of nature, which led these philosophers to confound together two diametrically opposite things-namely, the “subject” or knower and the “object” or thing known; the “principle” that feels and the “term” felt.

Fichte (1762-1814)

Fichte was a disciple of Kant.  When he published his work THE SCIENCE OF COGNITION, he intended to give a scientific explanation of the system of Kant.  But Kant repudiated the explanation and thus Fichte became aware that he had invented a new system of his own.

Th difference between the Critical Philosophy and Transcendental Idealism, as Fichte termed his system, is as follows:

Although Kant held that we have no means of knowing whether the objects which appear to us are actually such as they appear, he did not deny the possibility of this being the case: that they  may have a mode of existence independent of us,  although we have no means of ascertaining it.  But Fichte went further and denies that this was possible.  He moreover  maintained that these objects could be nothing but the product of the human spirit.  He argued thus:  the objects of cognition are all the products of the act of cognition, but the act of cognition is a product of the human spirit, therefore the objects of cognition are also products of our own spirit.  These objects, he continued, may be reduced to the sensible universe, God, and ourselves.  Therefore the universe, God, and ourselves, are only so many products of our own spirit, which places them before it as objects of its cognition.

Fichte then goes on to explain how the human spirit produces from itself all these things.  He says that with the first pronouncement or creation the Ego posits itself.  Before man says Ego, he is not as yet under the form of Ego.  By a second pronouncement man, the Ego, posits the non-Ego, or creates it.  The non-Ego, according to Fichte, is all that is not Ego, That is to say the external world, the divinity, and all the objects of human thought whatsoever.  Now these two acts by which our spirit posits the Ego and the non-Ego are co-relatives, so that the one cannot stand without the other.  The human spirit cannot pronounce itself without contrasting it with the Ego, and finding it to be different from itself.

This double creation of the Ego and the non-Ego is according to Fichte the first operation of the human spirit, which he also terms the intuition.  It has two relations or terms, which are in mutual contrast and opposition.  By this first mysterious operation he thinks he has explained not only the origin of human cognition, but the existence of all things as well; for, since the non-Ego includes all that is not the Ego, it includes God as well as the external world, and thus he arrives at the absurd proposition that not only the external world but even God Himself is a creation of man.

This system is termed Transcendental Idealism, because it applies the idealistic principle of Berkeley to all things without exception, drawing forth with an inexorable logic all its consequences, and discovering the abyss concealed beneath.  The Critical Philosophy of Kant left a doubt whether or not things had a susistence of their own; this was decided by Fichte in the negative; he thus changed the critical Scepticism of Kant into dogmatic Scepticism.

From Fichte’s system were originated in Germany the two others: Schelling’s system of absolute identity, and Hegel’s of the absolute idea, but we omit their exposition as unnecessary for our present purpose.

To see the introductory post, click here.  To see the previous post, click here.  To see a more detailed exposition/refutation of Locke, Condillac, and Reid by Rosmini click on THE ORIGIN OF IDEAS listed above, underneath this blogs header title.
Reid (1710-1796)

The disastrous consequences deduced by two such powerful minds as Berkeley and Hume from the principles of Locke, aroused and alarmed the Scottish philosopher Reid.  he saw that these consequences annihilated the external world, and destroyed all certainty of human cognitions with such rigor of logic, that, by granting the premises, no escape was possible from the conclusion.

But on the other hand he saw that these consequences were opposed to the common sense of mankind, and destroyed all morality and religion.  Therefore he said, “They can not be true.”

The conclusion, therefore, of Reid was that the premises were false, and that Locke’s system must not be accepted blindly, but must be submitted to a profound re-examination in order to detect the falsehood which lay at its root.

He set to work on this investigation with all the force of his genius, and in the end was convinced that he had succeeded.

Reid observed that in the fact of human perceptions there is something besides simple sensation.   If it were true that man knows nothing beyond his sensations he would be able to affirm nothing beyond them.  But experience shows us that we affirm the existence of real beings which are not our sensations; since we are conscious of knowing not only the modifications of our own spirit (mind), but also of the substances which are not ourselves, and which exercise an action upon us.  We must, therefore, conclude that we have not only the faculty of sensation, but another mysterious faculty as well, and that whenever we experience a sensation it is this which excites and compels us to affirm the existence of something outside of the sensation.

But here the Scottish philosopher found himself confronted by the following difficulties, which form the great knot of the ideological problem.

How can we explain this faculty which affirms that which we do not find in sensation?

The object of this faculty is not given by sensation.  Where then does it reside-what presents it to our perception?

Reid endeavored to meet the difficulties thus: he said, “We must not go beyond our facts.  Now it is attested by fact that we perceive substance and being, things which do not fall under our senses, which are entirely different from sensations, but which we perceive on occasion of the sensations.  We must therefore admit that the human soul has of its own nature an  instinct which leads us to this perception.  This instinct is a primitive faculty which must be accepted as an ultimate and inexplicable fact.”

According to Reid, then, there is in us a suggestion of nature, as he terms it, by which on experiencing the sensations we are necessitated not to stop there, but to pass beyond them by an act of thought, to the persuasion of the existence of real beings, which are the causes of our sensations, and to which we give the name of  bodies.

By means of this primitive faculty, which affirms or perceives the corporeal substance itself, Reid thought he had confuted the Idealism of Berkeley, and secured the existence of bodies.  He thought also that by placing the criterion of certitude in this same primitive faculty, he had given its death-blow to the Scepticism of Hume.  He imagined that he had thus reconciled philosophy with the common sense of mankind, from which it had been divorced by the English philosophers.

The merit of the thinkers of the Scottish school consists in this, that they were the first who attempted to liberate philosophy from the sensistic principles of Locke and Condillac.

Kant (1724-1800)

Whilst it was supposed that the Scottish school had placed philosophy once for all on a solid basis, the celebrated Sophist of Konigsberg came and shattered its foundations again, and worse than before.  He took the author of the Scottish school at his word, and proceeded to reason with him much as follows: “You are quite right in saying that our persuasion of the existence of bodies does not come from the sense, but from a totally different faculty.  The human spirit is by its very nature obliged to affirm the existence of bodies when our sensitive faculty experiences sensations.   If so, our faith in the existence of bodies is an effect of the nature of the human mind, and hence if our mind were differently constituted we should not be necessitated to affirm that bodies exist.  Therefore the truth of the existence of bodies is subjective or relative to the mind that pronounces it, but it is not in any way objective.  We are indeed obliged to admit the existence of bodies, because we are so constituted that we cannot resist this instinct of our nature; but it does not by any means follow that these bodies exist in themselvespthat they have an objective existence independent of us.”

This reasoning was extended by Kant to all human cognitions in general.  He maintained that since they are all and each acts and products of the human spirit, and this spirit can never go out of itself, so there can be nothing but subjective truth and certainty, and therefore we can never be sure that things are such as they appear.

To support this reasoning he observed that as all beings act according to the laws of their nature, so their products ear the stamp of those laws, whence he concluded that since our cognitions are all products of our own spirit, they must necessarily be in conformity with its nature and laws.

“Who can tell,” he says, “that if there were a mind constituted differently from our own, it would not see things quite differently from what they appear to us?  Does not a mirror reflect objects according to the form which these objects assume in it, a convex mirror showing them elongated, a concave mirror on the contrary making them appear shortened.”

“The human mind therefore,” he continues, “gives its own forms to objects of its cognitions, it does not receive those forms from the objects themselves.  Now the office of the philosopher consists in discovering what these forms are, in enumerating them one by one, and in defining each according to its proper limitations.  For this all that is required is accurately to observe all the objects of human cognition, transferring the forms of such objects to the human mind itself, and thus getting rid of the transcendental illusion, which leads us to imagine that the forms belong to the objects, whilst they are actually the forms of our own mind.”

This task Kant undertook to accomplish in his work, which bears the title A CRITIQUE OF PURE REASON.  His method is as follows.

The Sensitivity, according to Kan, has two forms.  The one he assigns to the external sense, and he terms it space, the other to the internal sense, and he calls this time.  To the understanding  he assigns four forms, quantity, quality, modality, and relation; to the reason he gives three forms- namely, absolute matter, absolute whole, absolute spirit; in other words, matter, the universe, and God.

By this method Kant professed to reconcile all the most opposite systems of philosophy.  Of these he makes two grand divisions, the Dogmatic and the Sceptical.  Under the Dogmatic he includes all that admitted the truth and certainty of human cognitions.  Under the Sceptical those that denied them.  He said that both sides were in the right; that the Dogmatists were so, because a truth and certainty existed-namely, the subjective or relative; and that the Sceptics too were right, because there is not such thing as objective truth or certainty in the objects considered in themselves, since man cannot know anything as it is in itself.

This system Kant termed Criticism, because it criticised not only all previous systems, but human reason itself.  He also called it Transcendental Philosophy, because it transcended sense and experience, and subjected to its criticism all that man believed himself to know about the sensible world.

The system of Kant, however, is in fact:

1. Sceptical, because the subjective truth and certainty which he admits cannot, except by an abuse of words, be called either truth or certainty.
2. Idealistic, since it admits only the subjective existence of bodies, and declares them to be the mere product of instinct and the innate forms of the human mind.  It admits bodies only in appearance, and denies their proper existence.  Moreover, his system is idealism, transported from the particular to the general.  It is the idealism which Berkeley had applied to bodies only, extended by Kant, no less than by Hume before him, to all the objects of human cognition, whether corporeal or spiritual, concrete or abstract.
3. Atheistic, because if human reason cannot give us security of the absolute and objective truth of the objects presented to our perception, there is not possibility of knowing with certainty the existence of God, and God is reduced to a subjective phenomenon.  Kant himself admits this with perfect frankness.  In fact, he criticizes all arguments employed by philosophers to demonstrate the existence of God, and proves, as he thinks, that they are futile and useless.
4. Pantheistic, because according to this system nothing is left but spirit, which produces and figures to itself all things, in virtue of its inherent instincts and innate forms.  It follows that one only substance exists, which is the human subject itself, and which carries within it the whole universe and God Himself; so that God, in this system, becomes a modification of man.
5. Spiritualistic and Materialistic at once, because what we call matter is in the object man as a product of himself, and what we call spirit is also in the object man as producing and modifying him, so that the human spirit becomes at one and the same time spirit and matter.

John Locke (1632-1704)

Locke undertook to solve the problem of the origin of ideas. According to him all ideas are acquired by sensations aided by reflection.

By reflecting he meant the labor of the reflective faculty of the human soul exercised upon the sensations. It follows that Locke denies to the mind every innate idea.

By innate ideas we mean ideas or cognitions which man has in his mind by nature.

Condillac (1715-1780).

Th philosophy of Locke was propagated in France by Condillac with certain modifications of his own.

Condillac professed to have simplified the ideological system of Locke y his suppression of reflection, which he held to be nothing more than sensation.

He thus reduced all human cognitions to sensation only. He held, therefore, that man possessed one only faculty-namely, the faculty of sensation. Memory, imagination, intelligence, and reason were only different modes of sensation.

This system was most pernicious in its consequences as well in regard of morals as of religion. For, if man has no faculty but that of sensation, it follows that good and evil are nothing more than agreeable or disagreeable sensations. Thus morality would consist in procuring for ourselves pleasant sensations, and in avoiding those which are unpleasing.

This immoral system was developed in France by Helvetius (1713-1771), and Bentham (1748-1832), the leader of the English Utilitarian school, applied its teaching to the promotion of public prosperity.

Berkeley (1648-1752)

Berkeley, and Anglican Bishop, was educated in the school of Locke. His intentions were good. Whilst some carried out Locke’s system into Materialism, he undertook to deduce Spiritualism from it in the following way.

Accepting the principle then unusually admitted, that all human knowledge must be reduced to an aggregate of sensations, he observed that the sensations can have no existence except in the being which is sensible of them, and of which they are so man modifications. The sensations then do not exist outside of man, but only in man, in the human soul.

It follows, therefore, that if man knows nothing beyond his own sensations, the objects of his knowledge are not outside him, but exist only in his own soul as modifications of his own spirit. Consequently the whole external world exists merely in appearance; it consists only of sensations which manifest themselves in the soul as modifications of itself.

This system, which denies the external existence of bodies, leaving nothing in existence but spirit, is termed Idealism.

Berkeley applied his system to the analysis of bodies, and shows that they are only certain sensations experienced by ourselves. He thence concludes that our whole knowledge of bodies consists in an aggregate of sensations, and that what we term the qualities of bodies exist not as is commonly supposed in the bodies themselves, or outside of us, but in ourselves only.

Whence then do we get the sensations” this question is proposed by Berkeley in his celebrated Dialogues of Philonous and Philylas. He replies that they are produced immediately by God in the human soul. He shows by the example of dreams that there is no need for the presence of corporeal objects in order to our acquiring the persuasion of their presence, the feeling of their presence is sufficient. Thus, according to Berkeley, human life is a continuous dream, with this difference only, that in life the several sensations have an harmonious and constant connection one with another; whereas in dreams they take place without this harmony and constancy-the visual sensations and images, for example, having no correspondence with those of touch.

Hume (1711-1776)

Hume also was educated in the school of Locke. he accepted as certain, without examination, the principle that all human cognitions may be reduced to sensation. But whilst Berkeley had arrived by this principle at Idealism, Hume, on the other hand, arrived at Skepticism, o r the system which denies all certainty to human cognitions.

he said, human reasoning is based on the principle of cause, which is thus expressed: “Here is an effect, therefore there must be a cause.” But this principle, he continued, is false and illusory, for man knows nothing but his sensations, and a sensation can never be a cause of any thing.

In fact, a cause is such only in so far as it acts-it is an active entity. But a sensation is not an entity; it is the modification of an entity; it is not active but passive, therefore a sensation can not be a cause.

But we know nothing except our sensations, we can, therefore, know nothing about cause. What we term “cause and effect” are only antecedent and subsequent sensations, and we reason falsely when we assume that the sensation which precedes is the cause of that which follows. The argument post hoc propter hoc is false reasoning; therefore whenever we speak of beings as causes of effects in the sensible world, we attempt the impossible, for it is certainly impossible to proceed from sensations to the knowledge of any cause whatever.

The impiety of this system is manifest, since by denying or doubting the principle of cause, we deny or doubt the existence of the first cause-God Himself.

• The following is an introduction written by Father William Lockhart to a short work written by Blessed Antonio Rosmini Serbati, wherein Serbati sketched a critique of the philosophies of Locke, Berkeley, and Fichte, and also presented a sketch of his own philosophy. In this introduction Father Lockhart gives a succinct description of the major point of Rosmini’s system.
  

It often happens that I am asked to say in a few words what it the characteristic principle of the system of philosophy named after Rosmini, the venerated Founder of the Order to which I have the honor to belong.

The following Short Sketch of Modern Philosophies, written by Rosmini forty years ago, but only recently published in the Italian original, seems well suited to the above purpose. I commend it to all who wish to know what Rosmini’s system is, but who have not time or inclination for studying it in his larger works; or who perhaps have only heard Rosmini spoken of as one against whom much opposition has been raised by many Catholic writers, especially by Italian members of the Jesuit Order.

On this point it may be well to say a few words. Many accusations having been laid before the Holy See against Rosmini as a theologian and philosopher, Pope Pius IX, appointed, in 1850, a special Congregation to examine and report on his works. A most searching examination was instituted of more that three years duration, made by twenty-four Consultors of the Index, all bound under oath to study thoroughly all the inculpated works, independently, without consultation with others, and in relation to the charges, more than three hundred in number, that had been brought against them. In the month of June, 1854, Pius IX presiding over the assembly of the Cardinals and Consultors of the Index, and having heard the all but unanimous verdict of acquittal, pronounced the following Decree: “All the works of Antonio Rosmini Serbati, concerning which investigation has recently been made, must be dismissed; nor has this investigation resulted in anything whatever derogatory to the good name of the author, or to the praiseworthiness of life and singular merits before the Church of the Religious Society founded by him.” To this Decree was added at the same time the following Precept of Silence: “That no new accusations and discords should arise and be disseminated in the future, silence is now for the third time enjoined on both parties by command of his Holiness.”

Being myself in Rome in the early part of the year 1854, a little before the sentence of acquittal on Rosmini’s works, I one day received a visit from the English Assistant of the General of the Jesuits, who informed me in the course of conversation that he had been sent expressly by the General to assure me, and through me the Superiors of our Institute, that the General wished it to e understood that “the opposition to our venerated Founder was not the work of the Society of Jesus, but a School in the Society.”

I have always treasured these words, because they assure me that the opposition on the part of those writers, which is as active as ever, notwithstanding the Precept of Silence, is not to be understood as committing a venerable Order, for which I feel so high an esteem; between which and ourselves I feel sure there one day e a perfect harmony of views on the subject of philosophy, since we are agreed in taking St Thomas as our master. We may differ with those writers in some of their interpretations of St Thomas’ meaning, but we both recognize in the Holy See an infallible umpire if ever it should declare any philosophical opinions to clash with any principle of Catholic Doctrine.

a few remarks on the fundamental principle of Rosmini’s philosophy may not e out of place. This concerns thee origin of ideas in the human mind.

Now the preliminary difficulty in understanding the Rosminian philosophy is that it goes deeper than what are popularly assumed to be the first principles of human thought. It undertakes to account for ideas. But to many people it has never occurred that there is any difficulty in this matter requiring explanation. They have been used to assume with Locke and others, more or less of the same school, that the formation of ideas is so simple that it does not require to e accounted for. It is assumed to e a simple fact like sensation. They say “We have sensations, and we have ideas; the sensations come first, and they are transformed into ideas y the faculty of reflection.”

Those who talk thus are not aware that between sensations and ideas they have jumped a gulch which is not less than infinite!

This mental condition reminds me of a conversation I once overheard in a railway carriage between two countrymen. “John,” said to one, “how about this railway telegraph; how do they send messages by it?” “Oh,” said the other, “it is very simple. You see them wires along the line. They run from London to York. They are fastened to a thing at each end with a dial plate and hands to it like a clock, with letters all round, and when they turn the hands in London this’,n and that’n, the hands in York goes that’n and this’n.” “Ah,” said the other, “it seems very simple when you have it explained.”

Much like this is the state of mind of those who do not see any difficulty in the formation of ideas, and serenely talk, as Locke and his school do, of “sensations eing transformed into ideas by means of the faculty of reflection.” They ignore the crucial point in philosophy, much like the countryman who explained the electric telegraph, omitting all mention of electricity-that occult and mysterious force which is behind the phenomena. (See note 1)
The fundamental principle of Rosmini’s philosophy concerns, as I have said, the origin of ideas-how the ideas or thoughts of things arise in our mind. For, it is certain that whenever that modification of our sensitivity which we term our sensation takes place, we immediately and necessarily think, not of the sensation within us, but of a something outside of us to which we attribute existence, call it a thing, and credit it with being the cause of our sensations; so that we actually attribute to it the qualities of heat or cold, blackness, whiteness, or the like, which, when we reflect or think again, we know exists within our own sensitivity only.

This mental process is obviously a judgment, in which we predicate the existence of a cause of our sensation. To say nothing at present of the idea of cause; it is clear that we could not apply the predicate of existence unless we knew what existence is, that is to say, unless we had the idea of existence already in our mind. We have thus two modes of knowledge to e carefully distinguished from each other-knowledge by judgment, whereby we affirm the reality of individual things-knowledge by intuition, whereby we intellectually think pure ideas. With this fundamental distinction in view I now Proceed to trace the origin and show the relative position of these two modes of thought. A little reflection will make it clear that the idea goes before the judgment, and is necessary for it formation.

We are said to know a thing when we apply to it the idea of existence or judge that it is an existing thing.

That which is no thing is unthinkable, for the object of thought-the idea of existence-is gone. And this shows that the idea of existence is the necessary object of thought, as St Thomas says, “Objectum intellectus est vel verum commune” . It is the first idea, without which we can form no judgment and know nothing. It is plain, therefore, that the idea of existence must be self-known (per se nota), otherwise we should be incapable of knowing it or of knowing anything. And this is the same as to say that it must be the first idea and the one innate idea in the human mind. (see note 2)
But how does this idea of existence make its appearance in the mind?

Not as a product of the senses, for we are obliged to apply this idea on occasion of each sensation, in order to form that idea of the thing which necessarily arises in our mind on occasion of each sensation. In the following brief treatise Rosmini shows very clearly from the very nature of the idea of existence, which is the formal part of all our ideas, why this idea can not come from the senses. He shows that the sensations are limited to the particular impression made on our sensorium, whereas ideas are unlimited, and can be applied ad infinitum to any number of beings, and to any number of the same genus or species. (see note 3). Now the idea of a thing is the same as the logical possibility of the thing. That which is possible was always possible, and is therefore eternal, and that which is eternal is divine, therefore Rosmini teaches that ideas are in a certain sense divine, i.e., because they have divine characteristics.

The idea, therefore, is so totally distinct from the sensations, so immensely elevated above them, that it is absurd to suppose it to be the product of sensations, because no effect can rise higher than its source; although it is, at the same time, an obvious fact that the ideas are made known to us on occasion of the sensations. In a word the sensations furnish the material element, the innate idea of existence, the formal element, of all the ideas we form by aid of the senses.

If then the idea of existence is not a product of sensation, yet if on occasion of the sensations we always find in our mind, it is clear that we find there what has there before, which was never formed but which was given from without, by means of another faculty, that of intelligence, which, as Rosmini teaches, is endowed with the intuition of the idea of existence by God, in whose Mind the idea of existence, and of all existences was from all eternity. This is expressed by St Thomas when he says: “Deus cognoscendo se cognoscit naturam universalis entis” SCG, I. 50).

And, indeed, this is self-evident if we believe in God as the infinitely intelligent Creator, willing and therefore knowing every particle of creation from all eternity.

These ideas of possible being in the mind of God are the types according to which He created all things, by an act of His free will, selecting out of all possible things such as He saw it was for the best to create. Thus an architect forms in his own mind the design which he intends to draw or to build, selecting also for good reasons, not always the thing most perfect in itself, but that which is best, all the circumstances being considered.

In like manner, regarding the communication of ideas; (to carry out the same analogy), the architect may if he pleases keep his idea to himself, or if he pleases he may communicate it or any portion of it to another mind, and then it becomes the thought or idea of that other; yet it would still be the original idea in essence, and the idea of the originator would always stand objectively to the recipient, as something distinct from his own subjectivity.

Analogously to this we say that the idea of existence, and the ideas of existences, which we find in our mind, and which were elicited on occasion of the sensations, are the same that were originally in the mind of God, Who, seeing all creation, saw even the modes in which the forces of the universe would make themselves perceived by us, and be classed as things, objects, or beings (see note 4). These ideas, Rosmini teaches, could come into our minds only by communication from God, through the intellectual faculty, or intuition of the idea of existence, which combines with the sensations that are perceived by us, in the unity of the identical human subject, which is at once sensitive and intelligent. Thus it is the identical Ego or self which feels and knows, and the result is the intellectual perception of objects, or the formation of ideas and the application of them (see note 5).

St Thomas says: “Esse in quantum est esse non potest esse diversum” (SCG I, 52). The idea, therefore, of existence or of possible being in the mind of God is the same essence of being as the idea of existence in the mind of man. It must, therefore, be a communication to man of some thing that considered in itself is Divine, since the ideas in God are His Divine substance. In God they are God. But if so, it is objected “to suppose man to be by nature in communication with the Divine substance is the error of the Ontologists and tends logically to Pantheism.” Rosmini replies, in his answer to Gioberti, “that the human mind has only the intuition of a light which descends from God and which is, therefore, an appurtenance of God. Now every appurtenance of God is God, if we consider it as it is in God, but if we consider it abstracting from all the rest that makes the reality of God, it is an appurtenance of God, as the Divine Goodness and the Divine Wisdom are appurtenances of God but not God himself, for God is not Wisdom or Goodness only. Thus although in God there are no real distinctions except those of the three Divine Persons, God is able to distinguish mentally His ideas from His Divine substance; and a man likewise can abstract his ideas from himself and may impart his ideas or a part of his idea to his fellow man without imparting his own substance, so God may abstract His ideas from Himself, and may communicate His ideas or some part of them, such as the idea of existence or being, without communicating to man His Own Divine substance. He may manifest His idea without manifesting His Reality or subsistence, and to the objection of Gioberti (that “this idea must be God, because everything is either God or a creature, but the idea of being is not a creature seeing it has Divine characters, therefore it must be God”), Rosmini replies, “Every real being must be God or creature, but not so every ideal being. The idea of being abstracted from God’s reality is neither God nor creature, it is something sui generis, an appurtenance of God.”

The idea of existence is the light of the mind, according to the analogy with the material light, so that the light of reason is the name given universally to the informing constitutive principle of the intellectual faculty. For as it is y the material light that our eye is enlightened so as to receive the impressions of form and color which aid us to distinguish one thing from another (and without this light the whole universe would remain for us perfectly dark); so the idea of existence is the light of our mind, by which we actually distinguish objects and know existences, on occasion of our eye being enlightened by the material light, or on receiving other sensitive impressions.

The light of reason is, according to Rosmini, what Philosophy, following the lines traced out by Aristotle, defines as the Lumen intellectus agentis, and of which St Thomas says that it is participatio Luminis in nobis impress, seu participatio Lucis aeternae.

St John tells us, Deus erat Verbum…erat Lux vera quae illuminat omnem hominem venientem in hunc mundum-“The Word of God is the light that enlightens every man coming into the world.”

It is this “idea of existence” or “light of being” given to man which constitutes the objectivity of truth, as seen by the human mind. For truth is that which is, as falsehood is that which is not. It is this which makes man intelligent and gives him a moral law y which he sees the beingness or essence of things, and recognizes the duty of his own being, to act towards each being whether finite or infinite, creature or God, according to the beingness or essence of being which he eholds in the light of the truth of being.

Thus, according to Rosmini, is secured the objectiveness of truth; and the high rule of morality and religion is summed up in the grand sentence of Rosmini which he shows to be the divine imperative in the conscience of man, “Riconoscere l’ente secondo la sua entita”- “Recognize being according to the beingness that is in it.” He shows, too, that this same principle of natural reason, when sublimated by Divine Grace, becomes the great principle of faith and charity, dictating to us the duty, and giving the power of loving God above all things and our neighbor as ourselves, inspiring the soul of man to perform deeds of supernatural self-sacrifice, arising from the intimate sense of the presence of God in the soul, and the conviction of the nothingness of all things, except as they give glory to God, by being used according to the infinitely perfect will of God, in which He designed the universe, and which he causes man to know by the natural and supernatural light, and by the external manifestations of His Providence.
Notes:

1. Every sensation is particular; reflection simply reproduces the particular, imagination pictures it; but ideas are universal, and all involve the idea of existence which is the most universal of all. how do we get the universal?
2. It does not account for the origin of the idea of existence in our minds to say we have in us a faculty endowed with the virtue of acquiring the idea of existence on occasion of the sensations. The question is, what is the nature of this faculty? For, in order that this faculty may be able to operate must it not be itself in act? Surely that which is not in act, does not exist, and therefore can not operate. For a faculty is nothing but a “first act (actus primus) whence “second acts” (actus secundi), or what we commonly call “acts,” may proceed. Now the first act of the intellectual faculty-the act by which this faculty exists-must in the very nature of things, e an intellectual act; else the faculty would not be intellectual; and if the act is intellectual it must consist in the vision or intuition of an object; because this is what is meant by an intellectual act. The very etymology of intellectus (derived from intus legere, to read within) shows this clearly. The act of reading necessarily implies the act of seeing; and there can be no seeing without something which is seen; in other words, without the intelligent subject, and the object which this subject looks at and thus understands. The thing seen-the object present a initio to the intelligent subject-the constitutive form of the human understanding (vis intellectiva), is existence, being, and this is the light of reason.

3. Rosmini makes the faculty and art of language, as taught to man by the tradition of human society, a chief factor in the formation of abstract ideas, for words are sensible signs of ideas, and stand as sensible representations of ideal things, enabling us to form classes of things in our mind-genera and species, which are all abstract ideas.

4. Qui cognoscit perfecte naturam universalem, omnes modos cognoscit in quibus illa natura potest haberi (SCG I, 50).

5. Rosmini teaches that there is a spiritual as well as a corporeal sense, and that the soul feels itself as it knows itself.