{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_57998/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_57998","id":"gutenberg_57998","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/57998","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Psychiatry/Psychology","Knowledge, Theory of"],"text":"E-text prepared by the Online Distributed Proofreading Team\n(http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made available by\nInternet Archive (https://archive.org)\n\n\n\nNote: Images of the original pages are available through\n      Internet Archive. See\n      https://archive.org/details/onsameness00fulluoft\n\n\nTranscriber's note:\n\n      Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).\n\n      Small capitals have been transcribed as ALL CAPITALS.\n\n      The Table of Contents can be found after the main text.\n\n      A list of other corrections can be found at the end of\n      the document.\n\n\n\n\n\nON SAMENESS AND IDENTITY.\n\n\n      *      *      *      *      *      *\n\n     PHILOSOPHICAL SERIES.\n\n     NUMBERS IN PREPARATION.\n\n\n     NO. II. STUDIES FROM THE LABORATORY OF EXPERIMENTAL\n     PSYCHOLOGY.\n\n     Researches are in progress on: Memory and the Least\n     Noticeable Difference in Sensation; Measurement in the\n     Diagnosis of Diseases of the Nervous System; The Rate at\n     which the Nervous Impulse Travels; The Personal Difference in\n     the Time of Mental Processes; The Rate, Extent, and Force of\n     Movement; Accuracy of Perception as a Function of the Time\n     of Stimulation; The Correlation of Mental Time, Intensity,\n     and Extensity; The Relative Value to Science of Experiment,\n     Observation, and Memory; The Building of Complex Perceptions;\n     etc.\n\n     NO. III. DESCARTES' \"MEDITATIONS,\" with Latin and English\n     Texts, and Philosophical Analysis. By George Stuart Fullerton\n     and William Romaine Newbold.\n\n      *      *      *      *      *      *\n\n\nPublications of the University of Pennsylvania\n\nPHILOSOPHICAL SERIES.\n\nEdited by\n\nGeorge Stuart Fullerton\nProfessor of Philosophy\nand\nJames McKeen Cattell\nProfessor of Psychology.\n\n\nNo. 1.      April, 1890.\n\nON SAMENESS AND IDENTITY.\n\nA Psychological Study: Being a Contribution to the Foundations\nof a Theory of Knowledge.\n\nby\n\nGEORGE STUART FULLERTON.\n\n\n\n\n\n\nPhiladelphia\nUniversity of Pennsylvania Press\nPublishers\n\n\n\n\n\nOn Sameness and Identity.\n\n\n\n\nPART I.\n\nTHE KINDS OF SAMENESS.\n\n     And some require everything accurately stated; whereas, this\n     accuracy annoys others, either because of their inability\n     to follow a train of reasoning through, or because of its\n     hair-splitting character; for accuracy does involve some\n     hair-splitting.\n\n                    Aristotle, Metaph. Book I, The Less, c. 3.\n\n\nSECTION 1. There are few words the ambiguity of which has led to\nmore confusion and profitless dispute than that of the word _same_.\nMen constantly use this word as though it had but one meaning, and\nthat meaning were always clear, whereas it really gives expression\nto a number of widely different experiences, some of which are quite\ndifficult of analysis. It is highly desirable that these experiences\nshould not be confounded with each other, but kept clearly separate,\nas the consequences of such misconception are very far-reaching. How\nfar-reaching, I shall in the pages to follow try to indicate.\n\nIt is my purpose to point out the differences in connotation of the\nseveral senses of this highly ambiguous word, to show the element\nwhich they have in common, and to trace some of the difficulties and\nabsurdities which have sprung from using the word loosely and without\nproper discrimination. I shall have to plead guilty to something very\nlike hair-splitting, but I may put forward in excuse the undeniable\nfact that \"accuracy does involve some hair-splitting.\" If anyone\nprefers the self-contradictions and preposterous conclusions to which\nloose and unanalytic thought has so often led the unwary, he is welcome\nto them. I shall hold a few of these up to inspection after a while.\nFor my part, I prefer a little quibbling at the outset of a discussion\nto a systematic incoherence all through it, with the chances of finding\nmyself in a _cul-de-sac_ at the end. Whether I am successful in\ndissipating to some degree the fog which has hung about samenesses and\nobliterated important distinctions, each one must judge for himself.\n\nThe kinds of sameness I find to be as follows:\n\n\nSEC. 2. I. We speak of any sensation, feeling, or idea, or complex of\nsensations, feelings, or ideas, as being the same with itself at any\none instant. The pain in my finger is what it is at this moment. The\nfinger itself (the immediate object of knowledge, a complex from sense\nand imagination) is, at each moment, what it is. It is to this sense\nof the word that the logical laws of Identity and Contradiction have\nultimate reference.\n\n\nSEC. 3. II. A sensation, feeling, or idea, or complex of sensations,\nfeelings, or ideas, considered in itself and without reference to\nthe world of material things, is called the same with one previously\nexistent when the two are alike. I say, for example, that I feel to-day\nthe same pain I felt yesterday, or that I have dreamt the same dream\nthree times. This is evidently not sameness of the kind first mentioned.\n\n\nSEC. 4. III. We speak of seeing the same material thing at different\ntimes. Suppose a man passing along a country road to look across a\nfield at a distant tree. What he actually sees is a small bluish patch\nof color, which, interpreting in terms furnished by his previous\nexperience, he supplements with material drawn from memory and\nimagination. On the following day he looks at the tree again from a\nnearer point and sees a larger green patch of color with distinct\ndifferences of shading and with a clear outline. This he interprets in\na similar manner.\n\nNow, without being a philosopher at all, and without conscious\nreference to anything beyond what he has experienced or can experience,\nhe affirms that he has on two successive days seen the same tree. I\nask, just what is the significance of the word same as used in this\nconnection? What peculiar experience has it been employed to mark? What\nis perceived on the one occasion is not the same as what is perceived\non the other in the sense of the word first given (by \"perceived\"\nI mean existing in consciousness as a complex of mental elements.\nWith the supposed external correlates of our percepts I am not now\nconcerned). And it is equally clear that two such percepts need not be\nthe same in the second sense of the word, for they may be quite unlike.\nIn this case they are unlike, so far at least as what is actually in\nsensation is concerned.\n\nWhat peculiar experience then does the word mark when the observer\ndeclares that he has seen the same tree twice?\n\nWe are now in the sphere of material objects (_i. e._, as experienced;\nI refer to the mental content and nothing more), and are not concerned\nwith our experiences as isolated elements, but as grouped and arranged\nin series. Our total possible experience of any one object is a\ncollection of partly simultaneous and partly successive actual and\npossible sensations which condition each other, and which we regard as\na unit. The Idealist believes that this is all there is of the object,\nand all we mean when we commonly employ the word. The Realist assumes\nthat there is something beyond and corresponding to this experience,\nand which is to be regarded as the real thing. He, however, must admit\nthat all we can know of any object, in whatever sense we choose to\nemploy that word, all our evidence for maintaining its existence and\ndetermining its qualities, must be drawn from this group of sensations.\nIt is this that we immediately know, and anything inferred must be\ninferred from this.\n\nFrom this it follows that when any one, whether Realist, or Idealist,\nor unreflective man, feels justified in asserting that what he\nperceives to-day is the same object he perceived yesterday, he is\nled to make this assertion on the strength of some distinction in his\nimmediate experience, and he refers only secondarily, if at all, to\nanything beyond and external to this. The distinction which he marks\nby the word is this: He has reason to believe that the two percepts\nin question belong to the one series,--to the one life history,\nso to speak. He believes that had he cared to do so he could have\nfilled up the gap between them by a continuous series of percepts,\neach conditioned by the preceding, and forming the one chain. Each\nrepresents to him the one object, in that each stands for the whole\nseries, and his thought is much more taken up with the series as\na whole than with the individuals composing it. He knows that the\npercepts in such a series can only be successive, never simultaneous.\nHad he reason to suspect that the two percepts we are discussing belong\nto different series of this kind, and that there is nothing in the\nnature of the case to prevent their being simultaneous, he would decide\nfor two trees.\n\nBut each percept contains more than one mental element, and just as we\nmay regard each percept as representing the whole series, so we may\nregard each element as representing the whole complex which may be\nexperienced at one time, and through this the whole series of percepts.\nI say that the orange I smell is the same with the one I see; that\nI can reveal by striking a light the chair I fell over in the dark;\nthat I hear rattling down the street the coach I stepped out of a few\nmoments ago. It is not worth while to distinguish this use from the\nuse of the word same just mentioned, for they agree in making a single\nexperience stand for a whole group or series, which is assumed to\nbe at least potentially present with each one. When we have had two\nexperiences thus representing the one group, we say that we have in two\nways, or on two occasions, experienced the same object. In this sense\nhas the man in our illustration seen yesterday and to-day the same\ntree. In this sense could he at the one time see and touch the same\ntree.\n\nIt is in this sense also that we use the word when we say that the\nobject seen with the naked eye and the object seen through a telescope\nor under a microscope are the same. If I look at a distant object\nwith the naked eye and then look at it through a telescope, what I\nactually see (or what is actually in the sense) is in the two cases\nvery different. But just as seeing an object from a distance with the\nnaked eye, I may walk towards it and substitute for the dim and vague\npercept which I first had a series of percepts increasing in clearness\nand ending in one which I regard as altogether satisfactory, so I may\nsubstitute at once this clear percept for the dim one, by the use of\nthe telescope, and may know that it properly belongs to the series\nwhich, taken as a whole, constitutes my notion of the object. This\nI may know from the relations which this percept bears to the other\npercepts of the series, and which allow me to pass in my inferences\nfrom it to them as I can from any one of them to another. If, seeing\na dim object upon the horizon, I raise a telescope and through it\nperceive the figure of a man, I know that I could have had a similar\npercept without any telescope by simply approaching the object.\nConversely, on perceiving a man near at hand, I know I could have a\nsimilar percept from a distance by looking through a telescope. I call\nthe man seen through the telescope the same as the man seen with the\nnaked eye, for the same reason as I call the man seen by the eye at a\ndistance the same with the man seen near at hand.\n\nAnd the apparently non-extended speck which I see with the naked eye\nlooks very different from the curious insect I see when I place a\nmicroscope over this speck, but I call them the same for the reason\njust given. If the insect as seen under the glass be divided, so is\nthe speck as seen by the eye; if the insect is taken away, the speck\ndisappears too. The series of percepts made possible through the\nmicroscope may be regarded as a continuation of the series which arises\nfrom approaching the eye to the object. Each member in it stands in a\nrelation to this primary series similar to that illustrated above in\nthe case of the telescope, and similar to that held by the terms of the\nprimary series to each other. It should be kept clearly in mind that\nin all these cases the object (immediately perceived) is the same only\nin the sense pointed out, _i. e._, two or more percepts, which may,\nin themselves considered, be quite unlike each other, are recognized\nas in a certain relation to each other, as each representing the one\nseries to which all belong. If one thinks he has reason to believe each\npercept represents not merely the series of percepts, but something\ndifferent, which he infers and is pleased to call the \"real\" thing, he\nmay be inclined to believe that in saying he sees the same object on\ntwo occasions he is referring to this something. It must be clear to\nhim, however that all his evidence for the sameness of this something\nlies in the experience I have described, and it is to this that he\nmust point in proof that it is the same. The percepts themselves are\ncertainly not the same in any other sense than the one given. They are\nnot identical, and they need not be alike. They merely stand for each\nother. Should one forget this, he will fall into blunders which I will\nillustrate at length when I speak of the common opinion on the subject\nof the infinite divisibility of space.\n\nJohn Locke, in his famous \"Essay,\"[1] has made a distinction between\nthe sameness of masses of inorganic matter and the sameness of\norganisms. That of the former, he says, consists in the sameness of\ntheir particles, while the sameness of a plant or animal does not\nconsist in that of the particles which compose it at this time or at\nthat, for they are in continual flux, but in the participation in the\none life of the organism. It does not, however, appear to me that we\nhave here a real difference in the kind of experience marked by the\nword. The difference is merely that in the one case we connect this\nexperience, not with the object as a whole, but with the separate\nparticles which compose it, which we take as so many separate objects\neach having a sameness of the kind just discussed, while in the other\ncase we look upon the object as a whole, as a unit, and disregard any\nreference to its component parts. But whether we regard the object as\na unit or take each of its ultimate parts as separate objects, we are\nthinking of the one kind of sameness. We are thinking of a certain\nlife-history in which any one link may represent the whole, and any\ntwo links may be, from this point of view, regarded as equivalent.\nIt is not merely with reference to plants and animals that we speak\nof sameness without regard to a sameness of constituent parts. We\ndo it in this case simply because the organism furnishes us with a\nconvenient unit, and one much more important as a unit than as an\naggregate. We can make similar units when we please, and consider their\nsameness without thinking of their parts. We speak of the same nation\nas existing through many generations, and of the same corporation\nas surviving many deaths. Whether the object we are considering be\nnaturally indivisible, or composite and assumed a unit for convenience,\nwhen we speak of it as the same at two different times we are referring\nto the one experience. Locke does make here a distinction worth\nnoticing, but it does not mark two fundamentally different uses of the\nword.\n\n  [1] Essay Concerning Human Understanding, Bk. 2, Chap. 27, \u00a7 3.\n\n\nSEC. 5. IV. Two objects are called the same, and two other mental\nexperiences occurring at the one time are called the same, from the\nfact that they are recognized as alike. The botanist, finding that\ntwo plants belong to the one class calls them the same without\nany intention of confounding the two individuals. Nor does one who\nplaces his two hands in warm water and declares that he has the same\nfeeling in both, confound the two streams of sensation. The fact\nthat only likeness is meant is here clearly recognized. It is not, I\nthink, as clearly recognized when similar sensations or other mental\nexperiences (considered singly), occurring at _different_ times, are\ncalled the same. In that case they are sometimes spoken of as if they\nwere material objects having a continuous sameness after the fashion\nexplained above.\n\n\nSEC. 6. V. The word same is used to signify the relation between any\nmental experience and that which is regarded as its representative.\nThis representative may or may not resemble it. We speak, for example,\nof calling up in memory this or that object seen at some past time. The\nmemory-image is certainly not the same with the original percept in\nSense I. When we say that the object of memory is the past, we cannot\nmean this, for it is plainly false. Nor is it thought of as merely like\nit, as in Sense II. It is thought of as a something which represents\nit--stands for it in a peculiar way. Just what this implies I will not\nhere attempt to discover. It is enough for my purpose to point out that\nwhen we say a man remembers an object we do not mean merely to indicate\nthe presence in his imagination of a resembling picture, but to include\na certain relation between this picture and an original percept.\n\nIt is not easy to describe what is present in an act of memory. When I\nam thinking of another man as calling to mind something from his past\nexperience, I bring before my own mind two pictures, one representing\nhis original percept, and one his present memory-image. Holding these\nbefore me together, I recognize them as related, but distinct. I\nuse the word same to denote their relation. But the person who is\nexercising his memory does not have before his mind two objects, an\noriginal and a copy, with an observed relation between them. He has\nnot the original, or it would not be an act of memory. When, however,\nhe reflects upon his experience as I have done, he represents it to\nhimself as I have represented it to myself. He speaks as if, in the\nact of remembering, he were conscious of two objects and could compare\nthem. He speaks of recognizing the memory picture as a copy and\nrepresentative of the original percept. Language, as commonly used,\nadapts itself to this way of regarding the matter, and I may leave a\nfurther analysis of it to the student of the memory, merely pointing\nout that, whatever is implied in the experience, a common use of the\nword same is to denote this relation between any mental experience and\nthe memory-image which represents it.\n\nIt will be seen that this kind of sameness may be presupposed in\naffirming sameness in other senses of the word. When I compare a\npresent sensation with one felt some days since, and affirm that they\nare the same, the latter must enter into the comparison through its\nrepresentative in memory. It is not itself present at the time of the\ncomparison.\n\nAnd when I say that I have seen the same tree yesterday and to-day,\nI mean, as I have explained, that the two percepts belong to the one\nseries; but since my experience of yesterday cannot be itself present\nin my consciousness to-day, it can take its place in the series, as\nthought to-day, only by proxy. When I say that I have in my mind the\nsame series on two successive days, I evidently mean that it is the\nsame series in the sense in which any experience and its representative\nin memory are the same.\n\nOther less important instances might be given of this use of the\nword same to express the relation between any experience and its\nrepresentative. We say that we see an object in a mirror, when we mean\nthat we see its reflected image. We speak of seeing in a picture this\nman or that. When we have found for anything a satisfactory substitute\nwe say it is the same thing. Such uses of the word are not likely to\ndeceive anyone, and I will not dwell upon them. Their meaning is too\nplain to be mistaken.\n\n\nSEC. 7. VI. We constantly speak of two men as seeing the same\nthing. In this we have a sense of the word which demands careful\nanalysis. For the sake of clearness, and to avoid ambiguity, I will\nconfine myself here, as I have done in the foregoing sections, to an\nexamination of what is actually experienced by the men, and will defer\nall consideration of existences assumed as lying beyond a possible\nexperience in an extra-mental world, for discussion in sections to\nfollow.\n\nThe question which interests me at present is simply this: What\nexperience is it that leads a man to affirm that he and someone else\nare perceiving the same object? The Realist (in the modern sense) would\nsay that this experience is only his evidence that he and another are\nperceiving the same object, meaning by object what I have referred to\nas believed to lie beyond his experience; while the Idealist would\nsay that this experience exhausts the whole matter. The Realist must,\nhowever, admit, as I have brought out in a different connection, that\nall his evidence for the existence of the object (in his sense), and\nfor any affirmations whatever regarding it, lying within the field of\nthe immediately known, any words, which have been coined to express\nqualities of, or distinctions concerning, this object, would retain a\nuse and significance as marking distinctions within this field even\nif the object were supposed non-existent. Whether any such duplicate\nof what is immediately perceived exists or not is a question apart.\nSince we admittedly draw all our distinctions from the field of the\nimmediately known and then carry them over to such objects, and not\n_vice versa_, we may be sure that we would go on saying that two men\nsee the same object in any case. I myself give the preference to\nthat the existence of which is an indubitable fact, and prefer using\nthe word _object_ to indicate the complex in consciousness. I have,\nhowever, no desire to assume any point in dispute by juggling with a\nword, and will try to keep clearly in mind the meaning of the word thus\nassumed whenever I use it.\n\nNow, the experience which leads me to say that I and another man see\nthe same object is just this: I perceive a particular object, and in a\ncertain relation to it I perceive the body of another man. From a past\nexperience of my own body in relation to objects and from reasoning\nby analogy, I have come to connect such a relation of another body to\nthe object with the thought of another consciousness of the object as\nconnected with that body. Just as I perceive my own body to perform\ncertain actions when I am conscious of perceiving the object, so\nI perceive this other body with which I have connected in thought\na consciousness of the object to perform similar acts in response\nto similar relations towards the object. It is wholly a matter of\nobservation in my own case that the perception of my own body in this\nor that relation to an object is a _sine qua non_ to the perception of\nthe object. And it is wholly a matter of reasoning from like to like\nthat leads me to connect in thought sensations or percepts with any\nother animal body whatever. When I say, therefore, that I and another\nman are perceiving the same thing, there is in my mind a complex\nconsisting of a percept or idea of the thing, a percept or idea of the\nman's body, and the thought of a percept connected with this body. When\nI say that he is thinking of us both as seeing the same thing, I call\nup in mind a similar complex and connect it in thought with his body.\nWhatever I may believe as to the existence or non-existence of things\nlying beyond this sphere, and supposed to cause these experiences,\nthese are the experiences to which I ultimately refer when I speak of\ntwo men as seeing the same object, and these furnish the whole ground\nfor the existence of the phrase.\n\nThe percept of the object which I connect in thought with the other\nman's body need not be wholly similar to my percept of the object.\nThe man who has discovered that he is color-blind, does not suppose\nthat men not similarly afflicted see just what he does in looking\nat a cherry tree full of ripe fruit. Nevertheless, he still speaks\nof himself and others as seeing the same objects. If another man's\nbody is not exactly like mine, I am not justified by argument from\nsimilarity in reading into it an exactly similar experience. It is not\nthe similarity of the two percepts that I am thinking of chiefly when\nI speak of them as percepts of the same object. I am thinking of the\nrelation in which I suppose them to stand to each other. I think of the\npossible existence of the one under given circumstances as conditioning\nthe possible existence of the other.\n\n\nSEC. 8. VII. When a man in an early stage of reflection upon his\nexperience has decided that objects immediately perceived are not the\nreal things but merely their mental copies or representatives, he may\nthink of these \"real\" things in several ways. He may believe in a world\nof \"real\" things, consisting of groups of \"real\" qualities, external\nto consciousness; he may accept such \"real\" things, but add to them a\nsubstratum or substance, distinct from the qualities; or he may believe\nthat the \"real\" exists as mere substratum, substance, or noumenon,\nand that all qualities, being merely its revelation to mind, exist\nwithin the circle of consciousness alone. The first position is one not\noften taken. The second is that held by Locke,[2] who believed that,\ncorresponding to our ideas of objects, there exist substances possessed\nof certain primary qualities, and having an underlying substance or\nsubstratum. The third represents the view of the Kantian,[3] who, to be\nconsistent, must deny to his noumenon any qualities whatever. How he is\nto do this without having it lapse into utter nothingness is a problem\nfor him to solve.\n\n  [2] Essay Concerning Human Understanding. Bk. 2, Chap. 2, \u00a7 I, and\n  Bk. 2, Chap. 23, \u00a7 1. _et seq._\n\n  [3] Kritik der reinen Vernunft.--\"Von dem Grunde der Unterscheidung\n  aller Gegenst\u00e4nde \u00fcberhaupt in _Ph\u00e6nomena_ und _Noumena_.\" Kant's\n  S\u00e4mmtliche Werke, herausgegeben von Hartenstein. Leipzig, 1867, 3er\n  Band, s. 209, _et seq._ See also, Kritik der Praktischen Vernunft;\n  Vorrede; and the discussion: \"Wie eine Erweiterung der reinen\n  Vernunft in praktischer Absicht, ohne damit ihr Erkenntniss als\n  speculativ, zugleich zu erweitern, zu denken m\u00f6glich sei?\" I Th. II\n  B. II Hptst.; same edition, 5er Bd., s. 5, 140. I am not concerned\n  here with the inner contradiction of the Kantian system. The notion\n  of noumena predominantly in Kant's mind, was, I think, about as\n  I have stated. He would not, of course, have denied \"reality\" to\n  phenomena, but his misconception of Berkeley, and the satisfaction\n  with which he settles down to the noumenal in the Critique of the\n  Practical Reason, show that he felt toward the \"blos Erscheinung\"\n  very much as Locke felt toward mere ideas. Cf. \"Essay,\" Bk. 4, Chap.\n  11, \u00a7 7.\n\nThe disciple of Locke has, therefore, in discussing all the uses of the\nword same, to consider the sameness of:\n\n1. Things immediately known.\n\n2. Groups of \"real\" qualities in an extra-mental world, more or less\nlike what is immediately known.\n\n3. Substance; the \"I know not what\" to which Locke clung through all\ndifficulties.\n\nThe man who holds the first of the three views above mentioned need\nonly consider the first and the second of these; and the Kantian\nneed only consider the first and the third, rebaptizing the latter\n\"noumenon\" or \"thing-in-itself.\"\n\nOmitting for later consideration the sameness of the self or ego, I\nhave already discussed the uses of the word same within the field of\nthe immediately known. It remains to consider the sameness of what is\nbelieved to lie beyond this, and to belong to a different kind of a\nworld.\n\nWhen men discuss these supposed realities, in what senses of the word\nsame may they reasonably think of them as the same?\n\nWhen a common, unreflective man, whose mind has not been, in the words\nof Bishop Berkeley, \"debauched by learning,\" looks at a tree and thinks\nabout it, he believes he sees a real tree, at a certain real distance\nfrom his body, and of a given real height and figure. It does not occur\nto him to make any distinction between the tree immediately perceived,\nand an inferred second tree, not immediately perceived, but represented\nby the former. There is the tree; he sees it; he can touch it; it seems\nto him but one: and he always talks as if there were but one tree to\nbe discussed in the premises. That one tree, he thinks, is really\nextended; is really out in space beyond his body; is, in short, what it\nappears to be. To his unreflective mind this tree does not seem to be a\nrepresentative or to be seen through a representative, but to be seen\nimmediately and just where it really is.\n\nBut when a man has begun to battle with the difficulties of reflection,\nand has learned to make a distinction between things and his ideas\nof the things, he will probably fall into unforeseen perplexities\nabout this tree. He reflects that, when he closes his eyes, the tree\ndisappears; that when he approaches it it looks green, and when he\nrecedes from it it grows blue; that a man with a peculiar defect in\nhis vision does not see it colored as he does; that when he makes a\npressure on the side of one eyeball he sees two trees where before he\nsaw only one; that when he makes such a pressure upon both eyeballs and\nmoves them about a little he sees two trees moving about, although he\nknows real trees can not ordinarily be made to move about so easily.\nSuch reflections lead him to distinguish between the tree as he sees\nit, and the tree as it really is, and he defines the tree as he sees it\nas the tree immediately known, and the real tree as the tree mediately\nknown, a cause of the existence of the former. He now thinks that he\nsees directly only copies or representatives of real things, and as he\nbelieves these copies or representatives to be in his mind, and usually\ntalks as if his mind were in his head, or at least in his body, he\nconcludes that things immediately known must in many instances be much\nsmaller than they seem, or perhaps lack extension altogether. How can\na tree thirty feet high be in a man's mind? It is true, that, when I\npress upon my eyeballs in the manner described, I seem to see two trees\nof that size moving; but must it not be a mistake? Must we not assume\nthat what is immediately seen only _seems_ extended, and stands for an\nextended thing which is grasped through it? So our philosopher learns\nto distrust the immediate object of knowledge; to regard it as in some\nsense unreal as compared with what it represents; and to deny to it\nthose properties which it apparently possesses. It is not extended, but\nit stands for extension; it is not colored, but it stands for color; it\nis not real, but it stands for reality.\n\nIt is natural, however, for one who has gone thus far to go farther.\nWhen he reflects again upon the fact that he sees the tree of a\ndifferent color at different distances; when he remembers that colors\nvary with the quality of the light by which they are seen; when he and\nhis neighbor dispute concerning the true color of the one tree which\nhe sees dotted with red leaves, and which his opponent claims to see\nof a uniform color; then he may well begin to ask himself what is the\ntrue color of the \"real\" tree, or whether it is certain that it has\nany color at all? May not, then, the \"real\" tree have only some of the\nqualities that we ordinarily attribute to trees? Perhaps, the space\nqualities?\n\nOr, worse yet, since some of the qualities that the ordinary man\nattributes to trees may be regarded as existing only in a shadowy way\nin our ideas, why may not the same be true of all the other qualities?\nHow do we know that \"real\" trees are extended? How do we know that\n\"real\" extension must be assumed as the cause of the delusive apparent\nextension of our ideas, if it is true that \"real\" color need not thus\nbe assumed as a cause of our sensations of color? What if the \"real\"\nthing exists only as an indescribable and incomprehensible somewhat,\nwhich we must assume as a cause of the immediately known, but of\nwhich we can know nothing more? When one has once begun this slippery\ndescent, it is not easy to say where he may find a peg to stay him in\nhis course.\n\nSuppose, however, he is content to strip the \"real\" thing of what are\ncommonly called the secondary qualities of matter, and to leave to it\nwhat are known as the primary. He will follow the example of the wholly\nunreflective man and speak of it in such a way as to suggest that the\nthing itself is something apart from its \"real\" qualities. A tree, he\nwill say, _has_ qualities. It would certainly sound odd to hear him\nsay it _is_ qualities. And he will very possibly go on to justify the\nuse of the language he employs by distinguishing between the \"real\"\nqualities represented by his mental picture of the tree and an obscure\nsomething which he assumes as underlying them; thus embracing the\nLockian distinction of ideas, \"real\" qualities, and substance. He may\nconclude, it is true, that substance in this sense of the word is\nchimerical, and that the belief in it arises out of a misunderstanding\nof the significance of language; but if he has gone so far as to\nassume duplicates of things immediately known, in the form of \"real\"\nqualities, it is more probable that he will be inclined to complete his\nclasses of beings by adding the third.[4]\n\n  [4] There is, of course, no reason why he may not add as many more\n  classes as he pleases, and justify the additions as he justifies\n  this. Men do not do this, as a matter of fact, but that is no reason.\n\nNow, it does not concern me to consider whether this change of view\nis to be regarded as a real progress in reflective knowledge or as a\nprogressive decline and fall of the unreflective man. The point which\nconcerns me is this: The unreflective man talks as if but one tree were\nunder discussion. The man who reflects uses the same forms of speech:\nand even when he believes that he must distinguish between the tree\nimmediately known and the obscure something which he has come to look\nupon as its cause, or between the tree immediately known, the bundle of\n\"real\" qualities inferred, and the obscure something that he connects\nwith these, he still goes on talking as if he had only one thing to\ntalk about. The danger of such a proceeding is obvious. If I talk\nabout two or three things as though they were one, it is but natural\nthat I should sometimes confuse them with each other. Should proof be\nforthcoming for one of these, it would be but natural for me to fall\noccasionally into the error of supposing that it somehow applies to the\nothers. If I go on saying \"the tree\" when I mean one tree and something\nelse, two trees, or two trees and something else, it is only to be\nexpected that I sooner or later come to grief in my reasonings.\n\nAnd it should be noted that this peculiar ambiguity in the names of\nthings entails a parallel ambiguity in the use of the words by which we\nindicate the mind's recognition of the presence of things. We commonly\nspeak of a drunken man's _seeing_ two trees, where a sober man sees\none. We speak of an insane man as _hearing_ voices, when no one has\nspoken. We say that we _see_ the maples are turning red, even when we\nbelieve that color may not properly be attributed to the mediate object\nof knowledge. On the other hand, those who hold to the existence of\n\"real\" objects of the kind before mentioned, generally maintain that\nin referring to things in space, their positions and mutual relations,\nwe are giving attention, not to the immediately known, but to its\n\"external\" double. \"I see, feel, perceive,\" it is \"said, not the image,\nand not the constituents of the image (the ideas), but the external\nobject by _means_ of the image.\"[5] If one holds that this \"external\"\nobject presupposes a substance, a something distinct from a group of\nqualities, there is nothing to prevent his maintaining, should he\nwish to do so, that in saying \"I see a tree,\" primary reference is\nhad to this substance or \"reality.\" Of course, if, in the sentence\n\"I see a tree,\" the word \"tree\" can have three meanings, it follows\nthat there is also a possibility of taking in three senses the word\n\"see.\" It is hardly necessary to point out that, unless one is very\ncareful, \"seeing\" in one sense may result in \"believing\" in another,\nas \"kicking\" did in the famous case of Dr. Johnson and the stone. The\ncaution is pertinent with respect to any other word used in the same\ngeneral way as we use the word \"see.\"\n\n  [5] Ueberweg. See Krauth's Ed. of Berkeley's \"Principles,\" Phila.,\n  1874, p. 343.\n\nI have said that when a man abandons his original unreflective\nposition and learns to distinguish between things immediately known\nand other things they are supposed to represent, he goes on using the\ncommon language, and talking as though there were but one thing under\nconsideration. Now, men do not do this merely in common conversation\nand in writing about matters of everyday life, but they do it in the\nvery books that have been written to prove that each thing is thus\ndouble or triple. John Locke, for example, begins the very chapter\nin which he is about to draw the distinction between the secondary\nand primary qualities of bodies (_i. e._, between the constituents\nof things immediately known and the constituents of their \"external\"\ncorrelates), as well as to enlighten us on our ideas of substances,\nwith the following words:[6]\n\n  [6] \"Essay\", Bk. 2, Chap. 23, \u00a7 1.\n\n\"The mind being, as I have declared, furnished with a great number\nof the simple ideas, conveyed in by the senses, as they are found in\nexterior things, or by reflexion on its own operations, takes notice\nalso, that a certain number of these simple ideas go constantly\ntogether; which, being presumed to belong to one thing, and words\nbeing suited to common apprehensions, and made use of for quick\ndespatch, are called, so united in one subject, by one name; which,\nby inadvertency, we are apt afterward to talk of, and consider\nas one simple idea, which indeed is a complication of many ideas\ntogether: because, as I have said, not imagining how these simple\nideas can subsist by themselves, we accustom ourselves to suppose some\n_substratum_ wherein they do subsist, and from which they do result,\nand which therefore we call _substance_.\"\n\nIt is clear enough from this, as it is clear enough from other passages\nin the same book, that Locke talked as though the complex of simple\nideas in consciousness were the very same thing (in Sense I) as the\ngroup of \"real\" qualities outside of consciousness. And no careful\nreader of his book can avoid seeing that the confusion of his language\nis a fair index to the confusion of his thoughts with regard to the\ntwo.[7] It is little better in the case of \"bodies\" and substance. In\nthe passage just given, he would seem to make _substance_ an obscure\nsomething underlying groups of ideas, and not groups of real qualities,\nbut in the next sentence he makes it a substratum of the qualities\nwhich produce in us ideas. In many passages[8] he distinguishes between\n_substance_ and _substances_, by which latter he means groups of \"real\"\nqualities with the added substratum or substance; as such substances he\ninstances oak, elephant, iron. He emphasizes the fact that substance\nis not to be confounded with substances, which are things of different\nsorts.[9] In so far as the substances are bundles of qualities, they\nare known to us through sensation.[10] In so far as they are also\nsubstance, they cannot be known to us through sensation, for the idea\nof substance is not known through sensation.[11] We are not then to\nlook upon substance as such a constituent part of \"a substance\" as a\nquality is. The two belong to different classes. And if we offer proof\nfor the existence of \"real\" substances, which is evidently applicable\nto them only as bundles of qualities--proof from sensation--then\nsubstance is overlooked altogether. It is significant that Locke,\nhaving thus put together under one head as \"a substance\" an oak viewed\nas a bundle of \"real\" qualities and an oak viewed as substratum,\nproceeded to argue as if he had but one thing to prove when he felt\ncalled upon to defend the real existence of substances. In his chapters\non \"The Extent of Human Knowledge,\" the \"Reality of Knowledge,\" and\n\"Our Knowledge of the Existence of Other Things,\"[12] he devotes\nhimself wholly to proving things as bundles of qualities, and pays no\nmore attention to substance than if it had never entered his thought.\nIf we take these chapters as authoritative, we must banish substance\nfrom the sphere of knowledge altogether.\n\n  [7] \"Essay,\" Bk. 4, Chap. 2, \u00a7 14; Bk. 4, Chap. 4 and Chap. 11.\n\n  [8] _Ibid._, Bk. 2, Chap. 12, \u00a7 6; Bk. 2, Chap. 23, \u00a7 1, with note\n  (Phila., 1846, p. 183, _et seq._).\n\n  [9] See note to \u00a7 1, Chap. 23, Bk. 2.\n\n  [10] Bk. 4, Chap. 11, _et passim_.\n\n  [11] \"I confess there is another idea, which would be of general use\n  for mankind to have, as it is of general talk, as if they had it; and\n  that is the idea of substance, which we neither have, nor can have,\n  by sensation or reflection.\" Bk. 1, Chap. 4, \u00a7 18 of the \"Essay.\"\n\n  [12] \"Essay,\" Bk. 4, Chaps. 3, 4 and 11.\n\nAs another instance of a use of language calculated to produce\nconfusion, I may offer the following from Sir William Hamilton:\n\"Whatever we know is not known as it is, but only as it seems to us\nto be,\"[13]--a use of words which would certainly indicate that the\nimmediate and mediate objects of knowledge are one. And what would\nwe infer from such a sentence as this: \"Thus the consciousness of\nan Inscrutable Power manifested to us through all phenomena, has\nbeen growing ever clearer; and must eventually be freed from its\nimperfections. The certainty that on the one hand such a Power exists,\nwhile on the other hand its nature transcends intuition and is beyond\nimagination, is the certainty towards which intelligence has from the\nfirst been progressing.\"[14] Or this: \"We are obliged to regard every\nphenomenon as a manifestation of some Power by which we are acted upon;\nthough Omnipresence is unthinkable, yet, as experience discloses no\nbounds to the diffusion of phenomena, we are unable to think of limits\nto the presence of this Power; while the criticisms of Science teach\nus that this Power is Incomprehensible. And this consciousness of an\nIncomprehensible Power, called Omnipresent from inability to assign its\nlimits, is just that consciousness on which Religion dwells.\"[15]\n\n  [13] Lectures on Metaph., VIII, N. Y., 1880, p. 102.\n\n  [14] Herbert Spencer, \"First Principles.\" Part I, Chap. V, \u00a7 31,\n  N. Y., 1888, p. 108.\n\n  [15] \"First Principles.\" Part I, Chap. V, \u00a7 27.\n\n\"After concluding that we cannot know the ultimate nature of that\nwhich is manifested to us, there arise the questions--What is it that\nwe know? In what sense do we know it?\"[16] Or what shall one say to\nthis: \"Our consciousness of the unconditioned being literally the\nunconditioned consciousness, or raw material of thought, to which in\nthinking we give definite forms, it follows that an ever-present sense\nof real existence is the very basis of our intelligence.\"[17]\n\n  [16] Part II, Chap. I, \u00a7 35.\n\n  [17] Part I, Chap. IV, \u00a7 26.\n\nNow, if the consciousness of an \"inscrutable power\" is not the\n\"inscrutable power\" itself; if the existence of such a \"power\" does\nnot mean simply its existence in consciousness; if the phenomena\nin which, it is assumed, a \"power\" is manifested, are to be kept\nseparate in thought from the \"power,\" so that we shall be in no\ndanger of confounding a consciousness of certain phenomena with\nconsciousness of an \"incomprehensible power;\" if our \"consciousness\nof the unconditioned\" is to be kept in mind as signifying merely our\n\"unconditioned consciousness,\" and an \"ever-present sense of real\nexistence\" as signifying only an ever-present sense of \"raw material\"\nin consciousness; then it is high time that these sentences and all\nsuch as these be re-written with some regard for lucidity, accuracy\nand consistency. How can a reader help confounding things when he is\nthus taught by the very man whose business it is to distinguish between\nthem? The blind led by the blind is a cheerful spectacle compared with\nthis.\n\nNothing can be more evident than that the man who has abandoned his\noriginal unreflective belief in the singleness of the perceived\nobject, and has come to believe in it as having one or more \"external\"\ncorrelates, should keep distinctly in mind that an immediate and a\nmediate object are, by hypothesis, two distinct things: that he has\nnever had any direct experience whatever save of the one; and that\nall distinctions that he makes with regard to the other, the very\nnotions of its existence, reality, and externality, have been drawn\nfrom the sphere of the immediate and carried over to it in thought.\nAnd he should never allow himself to forget, that, when he says he has\npassed in thought from the immediate to the mediate object, he cannot\nmean literally that his thought is now occupied directly upon this\n\"external\" thing--that it is itself present to mind. He should remember\nthat he can only mean that he has such an experience as the following:\n\nHe has in mind the immediate object, and a mental picture of a\nduplicate of this standing in a causal relation to it and represented\nby it; or, he has (if a Lockian), in addition to these two, a third\nhighly vague and indefinite mental image (the idea of \"substance\"),\nwhich he connects with the image just described, as he has connected\nthat with the immediate object; or (if a Kantian), he has in mind the\nimmediate object, and, connected directly with that, such a vague image\nas has just been described. This is what he actually has in mind so\nfar as _objects_ are concerned. He does not, however, merely recognize\nthe existence in his mind of these different images in their relations\nto each other, but he looks upon this mental arrangement as somehow\njustified by experience and embodying truth.\n\nWhen we ask what the word \"_justified_\" can mean in this connection,\nit is not easy to find an answer. Within the sphere of the immediately\nknown the meaning of the word is plain enough. When I have constructed\nin my imagination a certain image or complex of images embodying a\nbelief as to matter of fact, I say the mental operation is justified\nwhen I can substitute for the idea the percept which it is supposed to\nrepresent, or can know indirectly that this might be done according\nto known laws of the appearance and disappearance of percepts. Thus\nI perceive the outside of a tree-trunk and form an idea of what lies\nunder the bark. I have reason to know that by stripping off the\nbark I can substitute for the image I have formed the corresponding\npercept. And if I see at a distance a similar tree growing upon an\ninaccessible cliff, and form an image of what lies under its bark, I\nmay still regard this as justified by the possibility of referring to\ncases in which a similar image, arising out of a similar experience,\nhas been found to be justified. It is a legitimate inference that, if\ncircumstances were somewhat different, the proper percept might take\nthe place of this image too. It is evident, however, that the word\n\"justified\" cannot be used in this or any analogous sense in speaking\nof the relation not of an image to a percept, but of an image or a\npercept to a something that, by hypothesis, cannot itself enter into\nexperience at all. What then can the word mean? It at first interests\nus to know that \"some Snarks are Boojums,\" but our interest lapses when\nwe discover that we have absolutely no mark by which we may know a\nBoojum from anything else.\n\nBut I must not be drawn into digressions. The points with which I am\nconcerned are these:--FIRST: When a man says he sees this tree or that\nhouse, he ordinarily speaks as if there were but the one object in his\nthought. If he distinguishes at all between an immediate and a mediate\nobject, the language that he uses would not indicate that he does so.\nAnd even after men have entered into lengthy arguments for the purpose\nof marking this distinction, and insisting that things are not single\nas they seem to the unreflective, they still indulge in this peculiar\nuse of language, which would imply either that they have forgotten for\nthe time being their own distinction between the immediate and the\nmediate, or that they regard the two as the same in Sense I, and to be\ntreated as one. Certainly, in their reasonings upon this subject, men\nwho hold to the two kinds of objects do confound them with one another,\nand strengthen their faith in the two by this misconception, as I shall\nshow later. We have here, then, what we may call a kind of sameness, or\npseudo-sameness, which deserves investigation, and which one should be\ncareful not to confound with sameness of other kinds. Whether the word\nsame is commonly applied in the premises is indifferent to my purpose.\nIn the remainder of the present section I will consider the relation\nbetween the mental representative and its assumed correlatives.\n\nSECOND: If we are to accept not merely the world of objects immediately\nknown, but also a world or two worlds corresponding to this, and yet\ndistinct from it, we cannot be sure our list of samenesses is complete\nunless we traverse in our search for the different kinds all the\nspheres of being in which we believe, and of which we think we can\nhave some knowledge. In the section following this one I will try to\ndiscover the kinds of sameness which a believer in \"external\" things\nmay reasonably attribute to them within their own sphere. In this\nthere is no question of the relation of something in one sphere to a\ncorrelative something in another.\n\nFor the first point. What is in a man's mind when he is thinking of his\npercept as having a \"real\" object corresponding to it, I have shown\nto be as follows: He has in mind an immediate object and a duplicate\nof this, not necessarily altogether like it, imagined as standing\nin a causal relation to it and represented by it. When it occurs to\nhim that this imagined duplicate is itself an immediate object and\nnot the \"real\" one, he does as much for it, and provides it with a\nsimilar duplicate. In every case, when he tries to think of an object\nimmediately perceived as having a \"real\" correlate, he simply furnishes\nit with an imaginary double in this way. What else is he to do? He\nis trying to think of two objects; the \"real\" object cannot, it is\nsaid, be in the mind; he must then imagine it. If he is a Lockian he\nwill have in mind the immediate object and two imaginary ones, one\nsignifying the \"real\" object as a bundle of qualities, and the other, a\nhighly vague one, picturing the \"substance.\"\n\nNow, since this is all that can be before the man's mind, any kind of\nsameness which concerns the percept and the \"real\" thing _must mean\nto him some relation between the immediate object and the image or\nimages of which I have spoken_. When this is realized it is seen that\nwe have here not a new kind of sameness, a distinct experience, but a\nkind already discussed. The relation between the immediate object and\nthe images described is simply that between representative and thing\nrepresented. This I have already examined within the field of what\nis recognized as immediately known. Here, too, it would seem that we\nare in the field of the immediately known, since we have to do with\npercepts and ideas, but though these images are in this field, they are\nhere, so to speak, under protest, and their framing is supposed to be\njustified[18] only by something assumed to be not in this field. When\nthis something is thought of at all it is thought of in just the way\nI have described. This is what thinking it means. Nevertheless, this\nduplicate world is assumed to be a world apart, and for this reason I\nhave considered the sameness of percepts and their corresponding \"real\"\nobjects by itself. It gives us sameness in sense seventh.\n\n  [18] I have already pointed out the vagueness in this word.\n\nIn writing the foregoing I have had in mind chiefly the position of\nthe Lockian. I need not consider at length that taken by the Kantian,\nfor what I have said will, with little change, apply to it also. If I\nhold to a \"noumenon\" as corresponding to my \"phenomenon,\" and yet deny\nto it all qualities whatsoever, I must, to retain any appearance of\nconsistency, represent it in my mind in the very vaguest possible way.\nNevertheless, I must represent it, or I am not thinking of it at all,\nand I must relate the phenomenon and this vague representation in the\nway described. A true consistency would, of course, make impossible the\nwhole process, for it would make impossible the giving of any quality\nat all to the representation, and the putting any relation between it\nand the phenomenon. In so dark a night cats do not merely turn grey,\nthey disappear. On the other hand, if one is too liberal with this\n\"noumenon,\" it palpably ceases to be a \"noumenon,\" and degenerates into\nsomething very like a \"phenomenon.\" The illusion must not be lost. Both\nthese conflicting tendencies may be well illustrated in Mr. Spencer's\n\"Unknowable.\" If we really refuse to allow to the consciousness of it\n\"any qualitative or quantitative expression whatever,\"[19] our vague\nimage wholly disappears and there is nothing left in our consciousness\nbut the \"phenomenon.\" While if we follow the \"First Principles\"\nin coaxing it back into existence by allowing it reality,[20] and\ncausality,[21] and a freedom from limits,[22] and printing its name\nwith a capital letter,[23] as though it were even better than other\nthings--if we do all this there is danger of the convalescent's\nbecoming too robust altogether. The problem has its parallel in the\npractical problem of paying wages:--one must not pay too little, or he\nloses his laborer; nor too much, or he loses his money. The thing is to\nfind the happy mean which will keep an object of thought before a man's\nmind and yet not make him lose all appearance of consistency.\n\n  [19] First Principles. Part I, Chap. 4, \u00a7 26. N. Y., 1888, p. 91.\n\n  [20] _Ibid._ Chap. 4, \u00a7 24; Chap. 5, \u00a7\u00a7 31, 32, _et passim_.\n\n  [21] _Ibid._ Chap. 5, \u00a7 31, _et passim_.\n\n  [22] _Ibid._ Chap. 4, \u00a7 24.\n\n  [23] _Ibid._ Chap. 5, \u00a7 32, _et passim_.\n\nBut in which ever of the ways mentioned a man thinks of \"real\" things,\nhe does what I have described. And when he implies that the immediately\nknown and the \"real\" are in some sense the same, as he does when he\ntalks as if there were but the one object, or asserts that we do not\nknow things as they are in themselves but only as they appear to us;\nhe really uses the word same in the fifth sense that I have given. The\nfact that he is using it to indicate the relation between percepts and\na certain class of ideas which he has come to regard as duplicates of\nhis percepts does not make the use of the word a new one. Whatever may\nbe the state of affairs outside of his consciousness, this is all that\ntakes place within it; and the word same, used in this connection, can\nmean no more to him than I have said.\n\n\nSEC. 9. To avoid needless prolixity I will class together and very\nbriefly treat of the kinds of sameness which one may attribute\nto \"external\" things. It is not necessary to go at length into\nthe discussion of these, for since the \"external\" world, as it is\nassumed by those who have faith in it, is, to the man thinking it,\nsimply a more or less modified duplicate of the world of things\nimmediately perceived; and since all ground for attributing to it\nany determinations at all must be found in that which is immediately\nperceived; we may naturally look to find in it nothing that we have\nnot already found in this immediate world. How, indeed, could anything\nelse get into it? We cannot have _in_ mind what is by hypothesis _out_\nof mind. The \"real\" world is then, in the mind of the man who thinks\nit, a world of imagined objects, and the world of imagination depends\nfor its material upon the world of sense. A little reflection will show\nthat the kinds of sameness of these \"realities\" are only the kinds of\nsameness already discussed duplicated, and assumed to belong to a new\nworld.\n\n1. An \"external\" quality or group of qualities may be said to be the\n_same_ with itself at any one instant. Here we have Sense I carried\nover into the field of imagined duplicates.\n\n2. An \"external\" quality existing at one time may be said to be the\n_same_ with an \"external\" quality existing at another time, to indicate\nthat the two are similar. The same thing may be true of any group of\nqualities. Here we have Sense II.\n\n3. The \"external\" bundle of qualities, which formed for Locke the\nknowable element in a thing or \"body,\" may be regarded as being the\n_same_ at two different times--as having, so to speak, a life-history.\nHere one is simply calling up in thought the experience described under\nSense III.\n\n4. Two \"external\" things (bundles of \"real\" qualities), or two\n\"external\" qualities, existing at one time, may be called the _same_ to\nmark similarity. Here we have Sense IV.\n\n5. An \"external\" thing (in the sense just indicated), or an \"external\"\nquality, may be called the _same_ with its representative. If this\nrepresentative be the immediate object of knowledge, we have the\nexperience described as Sense VII. If it be another \"external\" thing\nor quality, _e. g._, an \"external\" picture in an \"external\" mirror, an\n\"external\" statue in \"external\" marble, etc., we have Sense V.\n\n6. Two men may be said to perceive the _same_ \"external\" thing. In\nsaying this one simply calls up in mind the complex described at length\nunder VI, but makes the duplicate, which is, to him, the thing, stand\nin the complex in the place of the percept, this being now regarded as\na mere representative.\n\n7. An \"external\" thing may be said to be the _same_ with its\nrepresentative in consciousness or with the substance or noumenon\nassumed to underlie it. Here we have Sense VII.\n\nIt would seem scarcely necessary to mention this last, since, if\nthe representative in consciousness can be called the same with its\n\"real\" correlate, it would seem self-evident that the \"real\" correlate\nmay be called the same with it. I add it, however, for the sake of\ncompleteness. It should be noted that in this last kind of sameness\nwe step over the limits of any one class of being, ideas, things (as\nbundles of qualities), or substance. The word is used to denote a\nrelation between something in one class and a corresponding thing in\nanother class.\n\nIn the foregoing I have been considering the sameness of \"real\"\nor \"external\" things regarded as bundles of qualities. If one ask\nconcerning the sameness of Locke's \"substance,\" or the \"noumenon\" of\nother writers, I would say that our notions of this must vary with\nthe kind of being we allow this nebulous entity. Strict consistency\nin dealing with a noumenon as sometimes defined means, of course, its\nutter collapse. If, however, we keep anything in mind at all, we must\ncarry over to it at least the first of the kinds of sameness described.\nI do not think it would be hard to show that several other kinds are\ncarried over in despite of consistency by men who hold to this shadowy\nsomething under one name or another.\n\nAs, however, we do not find here any new sense of the word same, but\nmere repetition in a new field (if one may call it such), it seems\nunnecessary to dwell upon this part of my subject.\n\nI have not discussed at all the sameness of things from the point of\nview of an adherent of that Natural Realism which claims that we know\nimmediately real things and yet holds that real things are not our\nperceptions themselves, but something extra-mental. This view is so\nincoherent that it is not likely to be taken seriously by men who\nhave learned to reflect at all. I may say, however, _en passant_, that\nit does not add to the kinds of sameness I have described: it merely\nconfounds them one with another, and falls into the inconsequences\nwhich naturally result from so doing.\n\n\nSEC. 10. When we come to the question of the sameness of the Self or\nEgo we are, if possible, on more debatable ground than heretofore.\nThe whole subject of our knowledge of the Self lies as yet, in the\nopinion of many, very much in the dark. Without undertaking the task of\ndefining narrowly what this elusive something is, it would seem that I\nmay safely make concerning it at least the following assertions:\n\nIn using the word self, we may have reference either to what is\nimmediately known as appearing in the circle of consciousness, the\nphenomenon, or to a something supposed to lie beyond this sphere and to\nbe known only through its representative in consciousness.\n\nNow this something beyond may be looked at in various ways. John\nLocke, in discussing the not-self, made the three-fold division of\nidea, bundle of \"real\" qualities, and substance. He might with equal\nreason have distinguished in a similar way between the self as idea\n(the immediately known), the self as a bundle of \"real\" qualities (not\nimmediately known), and the self as substance. As a matter of fact,\nhowever, he did not put the not-self and the self upon the same plane.\nHe seemed to think that we know the self more immediately, and to hold\nthat it enters consciousness as the bundle of \"real\" qualities[24]\nwhich, in the case of matter, is assumed to lie beyond. The \"substance\"\nof the self, however, he condemns to outer darkness and the company\nof material substance. To me there seems no reason, admitting the\nright to pass at all beyond the immediately perceived, for making\nthe distinction which he does make. And as one, who has followed him\nwith assent in his treatment of the not-self, may, with some justice\ncomplain of his inconsistency and refuse to follow him here, I mention\nthe position he might have taken as well as the position he actually\ndid take with respect to the self and its existences.\n\n  [24] Compare Bk. 4, Ch. 9, \u00a7 3 of the \"Essay,\" with Bk. 4, Ch. 11,\n  \u00a7\u00a7 1, 4, 7, 8, and 9.\n\n\nSEC. 11. The word self may then be regarded as referring either:\n\n1. To the self as phenomenon, a something immediately perceived, a part\nor the whole of our conscious experience;\n\n2. To a complex of \"real\" qualities beyond and represented by the self\nas it appears in consciousness;\n\n3. To the substance of self, or self as noumenon, a vague and\nill-defined something, supposed to be distinct from and to underlie\nphenomena or \"real\" qualities; or\n\n4. To two, or to all, of these taken together.\n\nIf the word is used in the last of these senses any inquiry concerning\nsameness must split up its complex meaning and treat separately the\ndifferent elements included. It remains, then, to inquire what kinds of\nsameness we may attribute to the self in the first three senses given.\nI will take them in reverse order.\n\n\nSEC. 12. With respect to the third sense, which makes it refer to\nthe \"substance\" of Locke or the \"noumenon\" of other writers: all the\ndifficulties which arise out of the endeavor to attribute sameness of\nany kind to any substance or noumenon obtain here also. But it seems\non the surface more glaringly inconsistent in the adherent of noumena\nto discriminate between different kinds as admitting of differences of\ntreatment than it does for him to suppose them capable of treatment\nat all. Things that differ cannot be conceived as differing except\nin qualities, and here there is question not of qualities but of\nnoumena. If one is to retain any appearance of consistency, he must\nnot maintain that the word same is applicable in any given sense to\ncertain noumena and not to others. If he does so, he openly abandons\nhis noumena to a phenomenal fate. And, as a matter of fact, I think it\nis plain that those believers in noumena, who distinguish them from\none another, yet think of them in just the one way. If we take the\nutterances of a good representative of the class, Sir William Hamilton,\nwe may see that although he distinguishes between the noumenal ego and\nthe noumenal non-ego, not only do his clearest statements make such\na distinction out of the question, but the distinction drawn is so\nvague and insignificant[25] that the two noumena may be thought of and\nreasoned about in the one way. Phenomena being abstracted, what was in\nhis mind when he spoke of the one was probably in no respect different\nfrom what was in his mind when he spoke of the other. In so far, then,\nas the noumena themselves are concerned, it would seem that any kind\nof sameness which we may predicate of the noumenal not-self we may\npredicate on the same ground and with equal justice of the noumenal\nself, and _vice versa_. If, however, any sense of the word same marks\na relation between a noumenon and some other thing or things, and if\nthe two noumena differ as respects this relation, then this kind of\nsameness may be attributed to the one and not to the other. It may\nbe claimed that we indicate just such a relation in using the word\nsame in Sense VI; and that, whatever one might do, one would under no\ncircumstances speak of two men as perceiving the same self, noumenal\nor any other. I shall discuss this point when I come to discuss the\nsameness of self as phenomenon.\n\n  [25] Lectures on Metaphysics, VIII, N. Y., 1880, p. 97.\n\nI may add here that when one obliterates the distinction between\nnoumena by plunging them into the darkness of the \"unknowable,\" there\ncan, of course, be no question of a new sense of the word same in the\nfield I am discussing. On the general question of noumenal sameness,\nall that it seems to me necessary to say I have said before.\n\n\nSEC. 13. The second sense of the word self would make it a complex of\n\"real\" qualities beyond, and represented by, the self as it appears\nin consciousness. Now, I do not think that the fact that one would\nattribute to the self, so considered, one class of qualities, and to\nthe not-self another class, would, when the two \"real\" objects are\nconsidered in themselves, prevent one's ascribing to the former all the\nkinds of sameness which one may ascribe to the latter, or would justify\nthe assumption of a new kind of sameness proper only to the former. In\ndiscussing the sameness of \"external\" things I have not made any one\nkind of it dependent upon the peculiar quality of their qualities, if I\nmay so speak. I considered them only as groups of qualities in general,\nsupposed to be external to consciousness. The idea of the \"real\" self\nis in its general character essentially similar to that of the \"real\"\nnot-self. Provided that the two classes of qualities have enough in\ncommon to be properly called qualities, and to be capable of being\nrelated to each other in groups, they may differ in kind _toto c\u0153lo_\nwithout necessitating a difference of treatment from the point of view\nwith which I am at present concerned. It is very evident, however,\nthat those who have thought of the self as a \"real\" thing, distinct\nfrom consciousness, and yet to be in some way intelligibly represented\nin thought, have had a tendency to represent it very much as they\nhave represented material objects. There has been a general effort to\nget rid of the idea of extension, but this has been shown rather in\nreducing the size of the object and attributing to it inconsistent\nspace relations than in denying it such relations altogether. Bishop\nButler's argument for immortality from the indiscerptibility of the\nuncompounded shows that he thought of the self as he thought of a\nmaterial atom,[26] and Sir William Hamilton's scholastic notion of the\nubiquity of the soul in the bodily organism--\"all in the whole and all\nin every part\"[27]--makes it sufficiently clear that he thought of it\nso, too; though, to be sure, such ubiquity would make of it a very\nqueer atom indeed. If, then, the man, who holds to the self in the\nsecond sense of the word, calls up in using the word a mental complex\nlike that which represents to him a \"real\" not-self, there is all the\nmore reason why we should not expect to find anything in his thought\nwhich would suggest a new kind of sameness within the sphere of the\n\"real\" self. It remains, of course, to notice here, as in the case of\nthe noumenal self, that any sense of the word same which has reference\nnot so much to the things under discussion as to the relations of these\nthings to other things, may, if self and not-self differ as to these\nrelations, be applicable to the one and not to the other. Thus Sense\nVI may be regarded as inapplicable to the \"real\" self. I will discuss\nthis point more fully in a few moments. With this one exception we\nmay, therefore, I think, apply the kinds of sameness enumerated under\nSec. 9 as obtaining in the sphere of \"external\" things to the \"real\"\nself also, and it would seem that no new kinds are to be added. It is\nunnecessary to repeat here the classification already given.\n\n  [26] \"Analogy,\" Part 1. Chap. I.\n\n  [27] Lectures on Metaphysics, XXV., N. Y., 1880, p. 356. Hamilton's\n  utterances concerning \"reality\" are incoherent, and inconsistent.\n  I do him no injustice, however, if I give the above as \"one of his\n  views.\"\n\n\nSEC. 14. We come finally to the self as a something immediately\nperceived, the self as phenomenon or idea. I do not mean to use\nthese names in a question-begging way, and I will try to exhaust all\nreasonable possibilities in discussing it and its samenesses.\n\nNow, whatever the self is, it would seem that it must be, in so far\nas it is a thing immediately known, either a part or the whole of\nconsciousness, or one or the other of these regarded in some peculiar\naspect or relation.\n\nIf it be a part of consciousness, recognized as distinct from another\npart, the non-ego, we may reasonably maintain:\n\n1. That the perceived self is at any moment what it is--is the same\nwith itself. The question whether it be simple and unanalyzable does\nnot affect the problem. This is sameness in sense I.\n\n2. That if it be simple and unanalyzable, this simple element of\nconsciousness may be the same at two different times, and if complex,\ntwo elements or two complexes of elements, belonging to different times\nmay be the same. This is sameness in sense II.\n\n3. That if we regard the self as an object having a life-history, as\nconsisting of successive elements united in a series as sense elements\nare united in the series which is for us a material object (immediately\nknown), we may speak of its being the same on two successive days, even\nthough it exhibit dissimilar qualities, primary reference being had not\nto likeness of elements, but to the experience which has been described\nat length in discussing sense III.\n\n4. That we may speak of two selves, of two elements of two selves (if\nselves be complex), or of two elements of one self (if one self may\ncontain two such elements), as at any one time the same, to indicate\nthat they are similar. This is sameness in sense IV. It should be\nkept in mind, however, that we never look upon one consciousness as\ncontaining two selves as it contains one self, or as it may contain\ntwo material objects (immediately known). The second self in mind is\nrecognized as present only as an imagined object. Nevertheless it\nwould seem quite proper to use the word same to mark this relation of\nsimilarity between the perceived self and an imagined self, just as we\nuse it to mark a likeness of two material objects, or of one material\nobject and the memory image of such an object.\n\n5. That we may speak of the self and its representative as the same.\nThe memory image of a later time may stand for the self as experienced\nat an earlier. Unless it be claimed that yesterday's consciousness\nof self is actually to-day's consciousness, one must admit that the\nself remembered is the self known through its proxy. And one may in\nhis reasonings about the self use as a symbol the pronoun \"I,\" paying\nlittle attention as he goes along to what it stands for, and yet\nknowing it may serve in place of the obscure something it represents.\nThese are instances of sameness in sense V.\n\n6. That we never use the word same in sense VI in speaking of the self\nas we do in speaking of the not-self. We do not say two men perceive\nthe same self as we say they perceive the same tree or house. The\nfamiliar distinction between the subjective and the objective marks out\nthe latter as in a sense, peculiar to itself, common and impersonal.\n\nI have already shown what we have in mind when we say two men see the\nsame material thing. We have a picture of the thing, and of the bodies\nof the two men in a certain relation to it; and we imagine a copy of\nthe thing as in some way connected with each of these bodies, and due\nto its relation to the thing. When relations to a material object are\nin question all the bodies in a consciousness are on a par. We may\ndirectly perceive the one thing and two or more bodies holding similar\nrelations to it. But it is not so in the case of selves. The one self\nthat we find in each consciousness seems to be peculiarly related to\none body to the exclusion of others. And as we have not, in the case of\nthis self, the conditions which led us to mark the similar relations\nof two human bodies (our representatives of the men) to one material\nobject, by saying two men see the same thing, we, of course, do not\nsay that two men see the same self. The word same, in sense VI, we may\nregard, then, as inapplicable to the self as immediately known.[28]\nThis appears to be due, however, not to the nature of this self in\nitself considered, but to its peculiar relation to the other things in\na consciousness.\n\n  [28] Owing to the ambiguity already pointed out as existing in terms\n  which stand for our objects of knowledge and our knowledge of these\n  objects, it would seem almost impossible to avoid misconception\n  without unendurable reiteration. In the above paragraph, by the words\n  \"body,\" \"object,\" \"self,\" etc., I always refer to things immediately\n  known.\n\nMoreover, since the other two selves, the self as group of \"real\"\nqualities and the self as noumenon, are to us, as it were, shadows\ncast by the self immediately known--assumed to exist only because this\nis known to exist, and thought of as \"present\" only because this is\nknown to be present--since, I say, these two selves hold in our thought\nthis peculiar relation of dependence upon the self in consciousness,\nit is to be expected that we never find any one speaking of two men\nas seeing the same \"real\" self as one might readily speak of two men\nas seeing the same \"real\" tree. One says he has evidence that two men\nsee the same \"real\" tree, when he has or can have in consciousness an\nimmediately perceived tree and two immediately perceived human bodies\nin a certain relation to it. If no one had ever had this experience in\nthe sphere of the immediately known, we have no reason to think any one\nwould ever have thought of applying the phrase in question to a tree\nmediately known. And as we do not have a similar experience touching\nthe self in consciousness, it is only natural to find that no one\napplies the phrase to any self out of consciousness. When things differ\ntheir shadows ought to differ too. Sameness in sense VI we may regard,\nthen, as not attributable to self in any of the three senses of the\nword.\n\n7. That, finally, there seems no more reason why one should not call\nthe self as immediately known the same with the self as \"external\"\nthing, or with the self as noumenon, than the not-self as similarly\nperceived the same with the not-self as similarly inferred. The\nsupposed relationships are in the two cases exactly alike. Here we have\nsameness in sense VII.\n\n\nSEC. 15. If we claim that by the self as immediately known we\nunderstand not a part but the whole of consciousness, we should\nseem, unless we in some way modify our statement, to obliterate the\ndistinction between self and not-self. Still, taking the words simply,\nand assuming that we mean by self all that is immediately known, we do\nnot find that this will necessitate any important difference in the\ndiscussion of its samenesses. Consciousness as a whole is certainly\nwhat it is, or the same with itself, at any instant: two elements in it\nbelonging to different times, or two complexes of elements belonging to\ndifferent times may be the same, as being alike; it may be regarded as\nhaving a life history, and may from this point of view be called the\nsame at different times without regard to similarity; two simultaneous\nelements or complexes of elements in it may be called the same to mark\nthe fact that they resemble each other, or it, as a whole, may for the\nsame reason be called the same with another consciousness (imagined);\nit and its representative (for example, the memory-image of its former\nself), may be called the same; and we may use the word same to indicate\nits relation to its supposed \"real\" correlate in an extra-consciousness\nworld, whether we make this \"thing\" or \"noumenon.\"\n\nIt will be observed that in the preceding I have allowed the self,\nconsidered as the whole of consciousness, all the kinds of sameness\nupon my list except the sixth. There is, however, no objection,\nexcept that arising from oddity of expression, against allowing it\nthis kind of sameness too. If we really mean by the self the whole of\nconsciousness, then everything immediately perceived is a part of the\nself. If then, it is proper to say two men see the same tree, one\nmay go on to say, if one choses, that two men see a part of the one\nself. Such an expression could, of course, be used only in speaking of\nthe objective part of this self, the part which those who distinguish\nbetween ego and non-ego call the not-self. It is needless to say that\nno one ever thinks of talking in this way. I merely mention the point\nfor the sake of completeness in my analysis.\n\n\nSEC. 16. If by the self we do not understand a part or the whole of\nconsciousness taken simply, but the one or the other of these regarded\nfrom some peculiar point of view, does it affect the question of the\nkinds of sameness we may attribute to it? It may be asserted, for\nexample, that when we are thinking of the world of things immediately\nperceived as conditioned by its relation to a particular organism (also\nimmediately perceived)--as duplicated by a pressure on the eyes, as\nannihilated by a blow on the head--we make these things mental, and\nproperly include them under the head of self; whereas, when we abstract\nthese same things in thought from the organism, and, so to speak,\nobjectify them, we properly include them under the head of not-self. We\nare thus to regard the one thing as an element of the self or of the\nnot-self, according to the light in which it is viewed. But it does not\nseem to me that if we take the word self in the sense just described,\nor in any analogous sense, we need alter the list of samenesses already\ngiven. We are still considering a part or the whole of consciousness,\nand the fact that we are viewing it in one light rather than another\nwould not apparently influence in any way its kinds of sameness.\n\n\nSEC. 17. This would certainly appear to be the case if we take the\nwords _part_ and _whole_ of consciousness in their common acceptation,\nas denoting a portion or the totality of mental elements (sensations,\nfeelings, volitions, ideas), in their various relations to each other.\nIt remains, however, to consider a position, which, it may be claimed,\nis not covered by the foregoing classification of possible positions,\nwhen the words \"part\" and \"whole\" are thus understood. Suppose that\none distinguishes in the Kantian fashion between the _form_ and the\n_matter_ of what appears in consciousness, and maintains that the\nformal element, the arrangement, or \"unity\" of consciousness is to\nbe attributed to mind, or, if you please, is mind, and for \"mind\" I\nmay here write \"self,\" while the matter or content, the raw material\nto be elaborated and related, is to be distinguished from this as a\nthing apart. Can it be shown that the above given kinds of sameness\nhave significance in regard to the self so understood? Whether we\ncall this a _part_ of consciousness or not will depend on our use of\nterms. It is not a part, as commonly understood, nor is it the whole of\nconsciousness.\n\nNow, it has seemed to me that those who have laid most emphasis upon\nthis formal element in consciousness have been very vague in their\ntreatment of it. On the part of many writers there is little evidence\nof even an attempt at scientific exactitude. And yet it does not\nappear that the subject admits of treatment only in this loose and\nunsatisfactory way. If we can discuss it at all, there seems no reason\nwhy, with increasing knowledge, we may not expect to discuss it with\naccuracy and precision.\n\nIf we consider this formal element of consciousness in a concrete\ninstance, it may help us to classify our ideas concerning it. Let\nus imagine three points in such relations to each other that when\neach is connected with the other two by straight lines we have an\nequilateral triangle. The three points are, of course, what they are at\nany instant. And whatever a relation may be, if the mutual relations\nof these three points are capable of being considered apart from the\npoints, as a distinct element in consciousness, there appears no reason\nwhy we should not assert with equal justice that these relations are\nwhat they are at any instant. When we take note of the points we take\nnote of the relations, and we do not confound the one with the other.\n\nAnd just as I may say that such a set of three points imagined or\nobserved now is the same with another and a similar set imagined or\nobserved at some former time, meaning by the word same to indicate\nsimilarity, and not sameness in the strict sense mentioned just above;\nso there appears no reason at all why I may not say that the mutual\nrelations of the one set of points are the same with the mutual\nrelations of the other, making here, too, the distinction between\nsameness in the former, stricter, sense, and sameness in this second\nsense of similarity. If what is contained in a consciousness at any one\ninstant, is, _ipso facto_, to be distinguished from what is contained\nin it at any other instant, there seems equal reason for making this\ndistinction in the material element and in the formal. It is quite\ntrue that men are not accustomed to carrying this distinction into the\nregion of form. The whole history of the dispute as to universals is\nevidence of the way in which men have confounded the kinds of sameness;\nbut I fancy that even those who would clearly recognize that red\ncolor imagined yesterday and red color imagined to-day are the same\nmerely in being similar, or in standing in a relation of original and\nrepresentative, would yet not think of distinguishing triangularity\nnoticed yesterday from triangularity noticed to-day, and marking that\nthey are not the same in the first and strictest sense of the word.\nAnd yet it would be hard to show why two indistinguishably similar\ncolor sensations, existing in consciousness at different times, are to\nbe kept apart in thought and recognized as two sensations, while two\noccurrences of the consciousness of triangularity (I use the clumsy\nphrase to avoid any question-begging word), are not to be distinguished\nas separate in a similar way. To say that the formal element is not\na thing, but an activity, does not alter the position. If an activity\nis enough of a thing to be talked about and distinguished from other\nthings, we may surely recognize an activity in consciousness yesterday\nas numerically different from an activity in consciousness to-day.\n\nFurthermore, if, instead of taking as simple an instance of form as\nthe relations of the three points I have been discussing, I choose to\ntake the sum total of the relations between the material elements (here\nI use _material_ as correlative to _formal_), which go to make up the\nlife history of a material object, say a tree, why may I not speak of\nthe formal tree as being the same at two times, meaning thereby that\nthe group of relations co-existent at any one time may be regarded as\nrepresentative of any other group belonging to the one series or of\nthe whole series? To be sure, I am not justified by common usage in\nthus speaking, since common usage marks only distinctions which are\npractically important, and by the words \"the same tree\" includes both\nform and matter. Nevertheless, I can see no reason why, if this element\nof form does admit of being considered apart, it is not at least\npossible to find in this field the kind of sameness we have in mind\nwhen we say that we have seen on two successive days the same tree.\n\nAgain, if I can speak of two simultaneous sensations of redness in one\nconsciousness (_e. g._, the two halves of a red surface), as the same,\nmeaning to indicate simply similarity, why may I not also speak of two\nsimultaneous \"experiences of triangularity\" in one consciousness as the\nsame, and keep clearly in mind here, too, that I mean only to indicate\nsimilarity? If I can speak of a sensation or a complex of sensations\nin one consciousness as the same with a similar sensation or group of\nsensations in another, and yet not forget that I am dealing with two\nthings, why may I not do as much for two similar relations or groups\nof relations in two consciousnesses? If in the one case I do not\nconfound sameness in the sense of similarity with sameness of the kind\nwe mean when we say each thing is at each instant the same with itself,\nwhy should I do so in the other case? If, I repeat, the formal element\nin consciousness is enough of a thing to be distinguished from the\nmaterial element and discussed, there appears no reason why it should\nnot be open to distinctions of this kind.\n\nAnd when I call up in memory a triangle once seen, the memory image\nwould seem to stand as a representative of the original in both its\nelements, form and matter. In neither should the representative be\nconfounded with the original. If we may use the word same to indicate\nthis peculiar relation of representation between two things yet\nrecognized as two, it would seem only just to allow this distinction as\nmuch in the case of triangularity as in the case of redness or blueness.\n\nAs to the sixth kind of sameness. May we grant this to the self, if by\nself we mean the formal element of consciousness? I have said a little\nway back, before taking up the distinction of formal and material,\nthat, if we make the word self cover all the immediately known, there\nis nothing to prevent one's saying that two men see a part of the\nsame self, for material objects (immediately known) would have to be\nregarded as such parts. And here it is evident that if we make self to\ncover the whole of the formal element in a consciousness, it of course\nincludes the formal element in what we may call the objective side of\nconsciousness--the side which is, in some sense of the words, common\nand impersonal. Now, we do say that two men see the same tree, and by\ntree, the man who distinguishes between form and matter means a certain\ncomplex containing both formal and material elements. These elements\nhe believes he can distinguish from one another, and pay attention\npredominantly now to the one, and now to the other. Does it not seem\nto follow that a man may as truly be said to see the formal element as\nthe material, and that two men who see the same tree may with justice\nbe said to see the same shape or arrangement of parts? In other words,\nmay we not apply the sixth sense of the word same to the formal element\nin consciousness if this element is a thing capable of treatment at\nall? And if this formal element in a tree seen by two men is a part of\nthe self, why may we not say that two men see a part of the same self,\neven though we make self mere form? It would sound very odd to say so,\nof course, but that should not weigh with a philosopher, if consistency\nrequire it.\n\nFinally, if I may call an immediately perceived object the same with\nits supposed \"external\" correlate, not confounding the two, but\nmerely marking by the word a peculiar instance of the representative\nrelation, why may I not, if I believe that \"external\" things stand in\n\"real\" relations to each other truly represented by our perceptions\nof things and their relations--why, in this case, may I not speak of\nthe relations, \"external\" and \"internal,\" as the same, without on that\naccount forgetting that I am pointing out a relation between two things\n(if I may thus speak of relations), numerically different? Are they not\nas different as the \"matter\" of consciousness and its correlate in the\n\"outer\" world?\n\n\nSEC. 18. In the foregoing I have endeavored to make my list of the\nkinds of sameness complete. I can think of nothing that has been\noverlooked; but as I have been trying to force a path through a thicket\nfew have made any sustained effort to penetrate, it is quite possible\nmy map of the ground may need emendation. I shall be very glad of any\ncriticism which will help me to improve it. And as the many divisions\nmade, and the many distinctions drawn, may very possibly tend to\nproduce in one who has followed the discussion thus far, a state of\nmind akin to that of the \"true-begotten\" Gobbo, when he was obligingly\ndirected to the Jew's house by his hopeful son, a short summary of the\nresults obtained may serve to facilitate apprehension and intelligent\ncriticism.\n\nWhat has been done is this:\n\nI began by considering the kinds of sameness of things immediately\nknown, leaving out of consideration for the time being the sameness of\nthe self or ego. This resulted in the following kinds:\n\nI. Any mental element or complex of mental elements may be said to be\nthe same with itself at any instant.\n\nII. Any mental element or complex of mental elements in existence at\none time may be called the same with a mental element or complex of\nmental elements existing at another time, to indicate that the two are\nsimilar.\n\nIII. We may say that we perceive the same object (complex of mental\nelements) at two different times, when we do not mean that what is\nactually experienced on the two occasions is the same in either of the\npreceding senses; but only that the two experiences are terms in a\ncertain series, the whole of which may be regarded as represented by\nany part. In this sense does one see the same tree on two succeeding\ndays.\n\nIV. Any two mental elements or complexes of mental elements in\nconsciousness at the one time may be called the same to mark the fact\nthat they are alike.\n\nV. Any mental element or complex of mental elements may be called the\nsame with its representative, whether this representative resemble it\nor not.\n\nVI. When a man has learned from experience of his own body (as a thing\nimmediately known) that a consciousness of his body in a certain\npeculiar relation to a given object (complex of mental elements) is a\npresupposition to a consciousness of the object, and wishes to mark\nthe fact that he is perceiving or imagining two human bodies in this\nrelation to a single object, and connecting in thought with each of\nthem a picture of the object, he may say that he is perceiving or\nimagining two men seeing the same object. This sense of the word same\nobviously expresses quite a complex thought.\n\nVII. In addition to these kinds of sameness found within the sphere of\nthe immediately known, we obtain one kind by stepping beyond it, which,\nsince we step beyond it, so to speak, with only one foot, may be here\nmentioned as belonging at least partially to the world of immediate\nobjects. When we have come to believe that things in consciousness\nhave their correlates in a world outside of consciousness, we may\nspeak of the things in consciousness as the same with their \"external\"\ncorrelates; or, at any rate, we may talk of them as if they were the\nsame in some sense of the word which will allow us to include the two\n(or three) distinct things under one name, and treat them as one. This\nis constantly done. The importance of remembering that we have really\nmore than one thing to consider, it would seem scarcely necessary to\nemphasize. How far this is really a new kind of sameness I discussed at\nsome length.\n\nAfter having marked these seven kinds of sameness as having to do with\nthe immediately known, I proceeded to consider the kinds of sameness\nwhich may obtain in a world or worlds beyond consciousness. It was\npointed out that one may look upon the \"external\" in three ways. One\nmay believe in \"external\" things as merely bundles of \"real\" qualities,\nand may stop there: or one may believe in such bundles of \"real\"\nqualities, and in addition hold to \"substance\" or \"substratum\" as an\nobscure something implied by these \"real\" qualities: or, lastly, one\nmay hold that the only correlate of the thing in consciousness is\n\"noumenon,\" a thing not distinguishable from the \"substance\" above\nmentioned.\n\nIt was then shown that a realm of \"external\" things, consisting of\nbundles of \"real\" qualities in a world beyond consciousness, would,\nsince it is to the man thinking it merely a duplicate of the immediate\nworld, admit of the existence of all the kinds of sameness above\nenumerated, and would not furnish any one kind which might increase the\nlist. And with respect to the \"external\" as noumenon, it was stated\nthat if the noumenal be represented to the mind at all, at least the\nfirst kind of sameness must be attributed to it, and that other kinds\nwill be, in proportion to the degree of clearness allowed this vague\nand inconsistent entity. No new kind of sameness need, however, be\nlooked for in this field. If one hold to the \"external\" in both kinds,\nhe must, of course, search three distinct realms of being before he\ncan be sure that he has not overlooked any legitimate sense of the\nword same. As a result of the foregoing analysis we may maintain\nthat, whatever be his belief as to ideas, things, and noumena, his\nsearch will not result in more than the seven kinds of sameness I have\ngiven. In the assumed new fields we find mere repetition. The pure\nIdealist would reduce the list to six by dropping off the seventh kind\naltogether.\n\nNext, as to the sameness of the Self or Ego. It was pointed out that\none may take the word self to mean: (1) the self in consciousness,\nor as phenomenon; (2) the self as bundle of \"real\" qualities out of\nconsciousness; (3) the self as \"substance\" or \"noumenon;\" (4) two of\nthese, or all of these, taken together.\n\nIt was said that as the fourth sense is sufficiently discussed in\nexamining the first three, it would not be separately considered. The\nthree remaining senses were then taken up in reverse order. The third\nand the Second were found to furnish no new kind of sameness, and to\nbe on a par with the corresponding senses of the word \"not-self,\"\nexcept as touching the sixth kind of sameness. As respects this, it\nwas admitted that no one would speak of two men as perceiving the same\nself, whether as bundle of \"real\" qualities or as noumenon. It was\nremarked, however, that this is due not to a difference in the self\nand not-self in themselves considered, but to a difference in their\nrelation to other things in a consciousness.\n\nThe self in consciousness, or as immediately known, was then discussed.\nIt was stated that we may safely assume this to be either a part or\nthe whole of consciousness, or the one or the other of these in some\npeculiar aspect or relation. Self, viewed as a part of consciousness,\nwas found to furnish no new kind of sameness, and was found to admit of\nall the kinds discovered except the sixth; this one being inadmissible\nfrom the fact that when we make the self a part of consciousness we\nalways make it the subjective part and not the objective. Self, viewed\nas the whole of consciousness, was likewise found to furnish no new\nkind of sameness, and it was found to admit of all the seven kinds\ndiscovered--even of the sixth, though in a modified way, since this\nkind can belong only to a part of the self, the objective part, which\nis in some sense common and impersonal. It may, to be sure, be objected\nthat it would be contrary to common usage to speak of two men as seeing\nthe same self in any sense of that word; but in making the self the\nwhole of consciousness one has already abandoned the common standpoint,\nand one may as well be consistent in carrying out the consequences.\nAssuming the self to be not a part or the whole of consciousness\nsimply, but regarded in some peculiar aspect or relation, was not found\nto be significant as concerns kinds of sameness.\n\nIt still remained to consider a possible position; that of the man\nwho distinguishes between the formal and the material element in\nconsciousness, and identifies self or mind with the former. The formal\nelement of consciousness is not a part of consciousness as the word\npart is commonly used, nor is it the whole of consciousness, in the\nordinary acceptation of the word whole. And though this view might\nvery well have been brought under a former head by stretching a little\nthe meaning of the word part, yet such is its importance that I chose\nrather to omit it when discussing self as a part of consciousness\n(there using the word part in a limited sense), and to take it up later\nby itself.\n\nIt was insisted that if the formal element in consciousness is\nenough of a thing to be distinguished from something else, and to\nbe discussed, it is enough of a thing to admit of distinctions and\ndifferences much as other things do. After examination it appeared, as\na matter of fact, that there is no reason why the believer in \"form\"\nshould not attribute to it all of the seven kinds of sameness before\ndescribed--even (in the modified way described a moment ago) the sixth\nkind. And it also appeared that no new kind of sameness is discoverable\nin this field. With this closed the search for samenesses.\n\nIt will be observed that we have passed in review the self and the\nnot-self as immediately known, the self and the not-self as bundles of\n\"real\" qualities out of consciousness, and the self and the not-self as\nnoumenon or substance. I know of no other field in which the search may\nbe prosecuted, unless such be invented gratuitously by increasing the\n\"layers\" of being in a way no one seems inclined to increase them. And\nin view of the fact that the samenesses found in any \"layer\" below the\nfirst seem to be only repetitions of what we find in that one, we could\nhave no reason to hope that any such needless increase in strata could\nadd a single new kind of sameness to those described.\n\n\nSEC. 19. Now that we have obtained a list of the different kinds of\nsameness, we may pass our eye over it with a view to discovering what\nthe various kinds have in common, and what is the reason that we\nexpress such diverse experiences by the use of the one word. Such an\nexamination reveals the fact that the common notion which unites them\nis the idea of similarity. In some cases this notion lies more in the\nforeground than in others, but in all cases it is present, and forms\nthe bond of union. I will run through the list and point this out,\nbeginning, however, with the second kind, and reserving the first for\ndiscussion after the others.\n\nII. A mere mention of the second kind of sameness is, in this\nconnection, sufficient. Two mental experiences are there avowedly\ncalled the same to mark similarity.\n\nIII. When we speak of the same object as perceived on two occasions, we\ndo not, as has been noticed, mean that what is actually in the sense at\nthe two different times is similar. Nevertheless, we find here, too,\nthe notion of similarity, for the two experiences are not considered\nmerely in themselves, but as elements in a group or series, and as\neach representing the whole series. When, therefore, we have the two\nexperiences, we regard ourselves as having in them two experiences\nof the one series; which means, to be more explicit, that we have in\nmind on the two occasions two complexes which are similar, and which,\nwhen thought of together, are related to each other as the memory\nimage and its original are related. Here the likeness lies in what is\nrepresented, not in the representatives.\n\nIV. As in the second kind of sameness, so in the fourth, the reference\nto similarity is unmistakable. We call qualities or things the same\nwhen they are of the one kind, when they are observed to resemble each\nother.\n\nV. The relation of representative and thing represented evidently\nimplies the notion of similarity. It is quite true that we often\nrecognize as in this relation things that we do not think of as\nbeing similar at all, and yet a little reflection will show that one\nthing can stand for another only _in so far_ as it resembles it. The\nresemblance may lie in the qualities of the things in themselves\nconsidered, or it may lie in external relations of which the things\nare capable, or functions which they may serve. The very notion of a\nproxy is a something which, for the purpose in hand, may be regarded as\ncapable of assuming the functions of another. In so far as it can do\nthis it is like the other. Things wholly different (if things could be\nwholly different) could not represent each other.\n\nVI. When a man thinks of two other men as perceiving the same object,\nhe must recognize, if he reflect, that he has in mind a picture of\nthe object, of two human bodies in a peculiar relation to it, and two\nimages of the object somehow connected with these bodies. He need\nnot think of these images as wholly resembling his picture of the\nobject or each other. He does, indeed, make them more or less like his\npicture of the object, but what is prominent in his mind is the thought\nof them as representatives, as related to and giving information\nconcerning the object. I say concerning the object, but this phrase is\nambiguous. If the man under discussion believes in \"real\" objects in an\nextra-consciousness world, he will look upon the images as representing\nsuch a \"real\" object; though, of course, his guarantee for this\n\"real\" object, and all his information concerning, it must be found\nin his picture of the object, and this, or its copy, will stand for\nthe \"real\" object in any mental complex he may construct. If the man\nbe an Idealist, accepting only what can be found in a consciousness,\nhe will look upon the two images as related to his picture of the\nobject and representative of that. In any case he must regard them\nas representatives, and in this sense the same with the thing they\nrepresent. The notion of similarity which is at the bottom of this idea\nof representative and thing represented is then implied in sameness of\nthe sixth kind also.\n\nVII. And since those who distinguish between the immediate and the\nmediate objects of knowledge make the former representative of the\nlatter, we have evidently this implied notion of similarity in the\nseventh kind of sameness as well as in the sixth. The mediate object\nis said to be known _through_ the immediate: that is, the qualities\nand relations of the one are made to stand for and serve in place of\nthe qualities and relations of the other. This they can do, of course,\nonly in so far as the two sets of qualities and relations are similar.\nIt is easy enough to see that this notion of similarity is present\nwhen we think of an idea or complex of ideas as representing a \"real\"\nthing beyond consciousness, and giving information concerning it. When,\nhowever, we sublimate our \"real\" thing into a noumenon and strip it of\nthe determinations which, taken together, make up our idea of a thing,\nwe destroy, if we are consistent and thorough-going, all notion of\nsimilarity between the two; but in doing this we destroy our noumenon\naltogether. If, for instance, we refuse to allow to our notion of a\nthing \"any qualitative or quantitative expression whatever,\" we cannot\nthink of the thing as having reality or existence, or any mark by which\nit is to be distinguished from nothing at all. In this case the idea is\nno longer representative, for it has nothing to represent. If, on the\nother hand, we do not wholly destroy the noumenon, but still allow it a\ndiluted existence of an indefinite kind, in so far as it has this, and\ncan be represented in mind at all, it resembles the idea, and just so\nfar may the idea stand as its representative.\n\nI have already pointed out that several of those who pin their faith to\n\"external\" realities seem to apprehend at times but dimly, if at all,\nthat the relation of phenomenon and noumenon, or of idea and \"real\"\nthing, is that of representative and thing represented, and that we\nhave here two things and not one. Certainly they sometimes pass from\none to the other without rhyme or reason, and apparently in complete\nunconsciousness of the fact that they have made any change at all.\nIf, for the time being, they really take the two for one, they are\nnot thinking of the seventh kind of sameness, but of another kind. As\nthis is done through mere inadvertence and looseness of reasoning, and\ncannot be justified on their own assumptions, it is not worth while to\ndwell upon it farther. Where one really has in mind the seventh kind of\nsameness, the elements I have mentioned will be found in it.\n\nI. Finally, we come to the perplexing case that I postponed at the\noutset. What has sameness of the first kind in common with the rest?\nHow can we speak of similarity when strictly one thing is in question?\nNot one thing in the loose sense in which we call a material object\none thing in its successive states, nor one in the sense in which\nthe memory image and its original are one, but one thing as a single\nelement of knowledge is itself at any one instant? How can the idea of\nlikeness hold here? Dundreary's bird flocking all by itself would seem\nto have found its philosophical prototype.\n\nIt may be said that though the thing in question is strictly one, yet\nwe divide it from itself in thought and then affirm it of itself. We\ngive expression to the logical law of identity by saying that x is\nx. But here the difficulty meets us that, if we are really talking\nabout only the one x, we have said quite all we have to say in merely\nsaying x; while if, to complete our thought, we must add the second\nx, we have not an identical proposition, in any strict sense of the\nword, but a synthetic one. It is easy enough in words to divide a\n\"thing\" from \"itself,\" since the words \"thing\" and \"itself\" are two,\nand may readily be distinguished. In the same way it is easy in words\nto affirm a thing to be and not to be at the one time. There is no\nlaw to prevent one's stringing sounds together as he may please. But\nif one is interested not in the mere symbols, but in that which they\nare supposed to represent, one must see that the expression \"x is x,\"\nto be a significant proposition, must have a subject and a predicate,\nand affirm a relation between them. Here we have, by hypothesis,\nstrictly one thing for subject and predicate. The proposition \"x is\nx\" must then consist of one thing and a relation between it--which\nis about as significant as the statement that a door may consist of\none side and a relation between it. Between what? One side.[29] Every\nform of proposition employed to give expression to the law of identity\nimplies this difficulty. Whether we say \"x is x,\" or \"whatever is\nis,\" or \"everything is identical with itself,\" our proposition, taken\nliterally, is either useless (since we have said all we have to say in\nmentioning the subject alone), or untrue (since we add a new element in\nadding the predicate).\n\n  [29] This abnormal door has its parallel in the now discredited\n  _causa sui_. Note the following from Descartes: \"De m\u00eame, lorsque\n  nous disons que Dieu est par soi, nous pouvons aussi \u00e0 la v\u00e9rit\u00e9\n  entendre cela n\u00e9gativement, comme voulant dire qu'il n'a point de\n  cause; mais si nous avons auparavant recherch\u00e9 la cause pourquoi\n  il est ou pourquoi il ne cesse point d'\u00eatre, et que, consid\u00e9rant\n  l'immense et incompr\u00e9hensible puissance qui est contenue dans son\n  id\u00e9e, nous l'ayons reconnue si pleine et si abondante qu'en effet\n  elle soit la vraie cause pourquoi il est, et pourquoi il continue\n  ainsi toujours d'\u00eatre, et qu'il n'y en puisse avoir d'autre que\n  celle-l\u00e0, nous disons que Dieu est _par soi_, non plus n\u00e9gativement,\n  mais au contraire tr\u00e8s positivement. Car, encore qu'il n'est pas\n  besoin de dire qu'il est la cause efficiente de soi-m\u00eame, de peur que\n  peut-\u00eatre on n'entre en dispute du mot; n\u00e9anmoins, parce que nous<\n  voyons que ce qui fait qu'il est par soi, ou qu'il n'a point de cause\n  diff\u00e9rente de soi-m\u00eame, ne proc\u00e8de pas du n\u00e9ant, mais de la r\u00e9elle et\n  v\u00e9ritable immensit\u00e9 de sa puissance, il nous est tout a fait loisible\n  de penser qu'il fait en quelque fa\u00e7on la m\u00eame chose a l'\u00e9gard de\n  soi-m\u00eame que la cause efficiente \u00e0 l'\u00e9gard de son effet, et partant\n  qu'il est par soi positivement.\"--R\u00e9ponses aux Premi\u00e8res Objections.\n\nIt is then sufficiently evident that the forms used to express the\nlogical law of identity do not, taken strictly, express at all the kind\nof sameness with which we are now concerned, but, on the contrary,\nsomething very different. We are considering a sameness in which there\nis no duality whatever, but our expressions would seem to have no\nmeaning except as indicating a relation between two. They are then\nsignificant, not as _expressing_ sameness of the first kind, but as\n_suggesting_ it, and this they certainly serve to do. The reason for\nthis I shall try to give in a moment.\n\nIt has been said that in the other kinds of sameness we always find\nthe notion of similarity. When, however, we distinguish two things\nas two and yet recognize them as similar, we must have what I may\ncall a mixed experience of likeness and unlikeness. In any two things\ncompared, the degrees of likeness and unlikeness may vary, and we\nmay fix attention upon similarities or differences. In proportion to\nthe attention given to dissimilar elements will the two objects be\nclearly distinguished from each other and discriminated as two. If the\npurpose in hand does not require a careful attention to differences,\nand if what is prominent in mind is the likeness of the two objects,\nthe sense of duality may fall into the background, and the man pass\nreadily from one object to the other with little consciousness that\nhe has made a change. As I now look at the two ink-stands on my desk,\nI clearly recognize them as two and yet as of the one kind. Here I\nam as distinctly aware that they are two as I am that they are in\nsome respects the same. But in some of the kinds of sameness I have\ndescribed this sense of duality falls more into the shade. When I\nspeak of seeing the same ink-stand twice, or when I call up in memory\nan ink-stand once seen, I am likely, unless I take particular pains\nto reflect upon my mental operation, to have but a dim realization of\nthe fact that I have two distinct things to deal with. How those who\ndistinguish between the immediate and the mediate objects of knowledge\nhave a tendency to forget their distinction, and to pass unconsciously\nfrom one to the other, I have dwelt upon sufficiently.\n\nSuppose, now, that from two objects which we recognize as similar\nand yet distinct, we abstract one by one the elements which differ.\nSo long as there is any difference left, we still have \"identity in\ndiversity\"--similarity in the ordinary sense of the term, which implies\na recognition of two things as two. When, however, the last difference\ndisappears, all sense of duality must disappear with it, for any\ndivision or distinction within what remains is inadmissible. Things\nwhich are distinguished are distinguished through some difference.\nA sense of duality implies a discrimination between two, and where\nit is impossible to discriminate duality vanishes. Similarity, as we\ncommonly use the word, must then disappear with the disappearance of\nall dissimilarity between two objects. I say \"between two objects\" in\ndefault of a better expression, for, of course, we have at this point\nno longer two objects. My meaning is, however, sufficiently plain.\nA sense of duality implies difference, and similarity, as commonly\nunderstood, implies duality. The similarity will then take itself off\nwith the last difference.\n\nIt may be objected that _a consciousness of duality_ and _a\nconsciousness of similarity_ are only possible on the ground that\nI mention, but that duality and similarity themselves may really\nobtain when no difference between two is perceptible. But a moment's\nreflection will make it plain that one who speaks thus is simply\nsupplying in himself the elements that he is supposing absent in the\ncase of another. If he uses the words \"duality\" and \"similarity,\" and\nthey really mean anything to him, they imply all that I have said. He\ncannot represent to himself two things at all without distinguishing\nthem from each other, and he can not distinguish them from each other\nunless they differ in some way. If, then, he speak of two things as\nbeing two and yet completely indistinguishable, he is, taken literally,\ntalking nonsense. He may, of course, mean the misleading phrase to be\nunderstood as indicating something not actually expressed by the words.\nHe may mean to point out that, under certain circumstances, in which he\nhas an experience which he calls a recognition of two objects as two\nand as similar, he has reason to think another mind has an experience\npartly like and partly unlike his own--like in as much as it contains\nwhat corresponds to that which is _common_ to the two objects he has\nin mind; unlike in as much as it contains nothing which corresponds to\nthe elements which make it possible for him to recognize two objects.\nIt is this that is in his mind when he speaks of thinking of two\nobjects as really two and yet indistinguishable to this man or that.\nIf, however, the expression \"two things may be indistinguishable\" is\nused to indicate this experience, it should be carefully borne in mind\nthat the proposition must not be taken literally, for the good reason\nthat the subject and predicate are not in the one consciousness. The\n\"two objects\" are in the mind of Smith, and the \"indistinguishable\"\nelement in the mind of Jones. When we speak of two men as seeing the\nsame thing, I have shown that we are using the word same in a looser\nsense which should never be confounded with the stricter sense.\nStrictly speaking, then, the \"two things\" are never indistinguishable,\nbut that which corresponds to the two things in a consciousness from\nwhich all recognition of duality is absent. That one man may have a\nconsciousness of duality while another man has not, and that these two\nexperiences may be related as the experiences of different minds are\nrelated when we say they are experiencing the same thing, no one would\ncare to dispute. Should a man say that he can think of himself as\nunable to distinguish two things which are nevertheless two, the case,\nwould not be materially different. The man cannot, of course, think of\n_the two things_ as indistinguishable, but he may think of two things\nand connect with this thought the thought of himself as having an\nexperience in which there is no consciousness of duality.\n\nBut, it may be insisted, we are still only talking about consciousness;\nlet us come to \"real\" things. Suppose no one able to distinguish\nbetween them, abstract all consciousness of difference, would not\ntwo \"real\" things remain two, however we might confound them? Can a\nthing in one place be a thing in another place, however closely it may\nresemble it, or however ignorant we may be?\n\nTo this I answer that when one speaks of _two_ \"real\" things the words\nonly mean something to him because he has present in mind what I have\nsaid must be present if one is to have a consciousness of duality. A\n\"thing in one place\" and a \"thing in another place\" are to him two\nsimply because he thinks them as differing--in place. When one has come\nto the conclusion that he must duplicate his experience, distinguish\nbetween the world of immediate and the world of mediate objects, and\nplace the latter in a region \"outside,\" there is nothing to prevent him\nfrom thinking of two \"real\" things as two, although all distinctions\nwithin the field of immediate objects have been obliterated. Still,\nin thinking these \"real\" things as two, he does just what he does in\nthinking two immediate objects as two--he recognizes difference. The\ntwoness depends upon difference as much in the one case as in the\nother, and to speak of two objects in a \"real\" world as two and yet\nhaving no differing element would be to use words without meaning. In\ntalking about a \"real\" world, if we are really to talk and not merely\nto utter a series of sounds, our words must be significant. To say\n\"this or that may be in a 'real' world, though we may not be able to\nconceive it,\" would, if \"this\" or \"that\" implies a contradiction, be\nto say nothing. The fact is that this \"external\" world, as we think\nit, implies the notions of before and after, in this place and that,\nall the distinctions and differences which make it to us a world of\ndistinct objects. Of course it follows that things in the \"external\"\nworld are thought as distinct from each other, but this does not affect\nmy statement that distinction is impossible without difference.\n\nWe may, then, have a series of experiences, beginning with one in\nwhich two objects are recognized as similar and yet are very clearly\ndistinguished as two objects, continued in others in which the sense\nof duality falls more and more into the background, and ending in\none in which there is no consciousness of duality at all. The last\nof these experiences is not wholly different from the others. There\nis in it no experience of similarity in so far as this word is used\nto express identity in difference, or a relation between two. There\ncan be no such relation unless there are two, and here there are not\ntwo. But it should be marked that this experience differs from the\nothers, not in the element which has led us to declare two objects\nsimilar--the element which they have in common--but in that which has\nled us to declare them two and different. It is by adding to this last\nexperience, so to speak, that we get the others. They contain it and\nmore. Usage will not allow us to apply the term similarity in speaking\nof an experience in which two things are not distinguished, and this is\nproper enough; but it should never be forgotten that this experience is\nat the bottom of all our experiences of similarity--is, so to speak,\ntheir common core. When, therefore, I said some pages back that all\nthe kinds of sameness under discussion contain the idea of similarity,\nI was using the word in a certain broad sense to indicate that which\nis the ground of all our experiences of similarity, and is also found\nin the first kind of sameness on the list. I preferred to use there\nthe word similarity, because it was easy to show that this notion is\nreally contained in six of the seven uses of the word same, and it was\nconvenient afterward to show the connection between the first kind of\nsameness and the notion of similarity.\n\nAnd now it is not difficult to guess why we employ such expressions as\nwe do to indicate strict identity. If I habitually use the proposition\n\"x is y\" to indicate a relation between two things having similar\nelements and yet regarded as distinct, and look upon the proposition\nas justified by the similar elements, observing that, these remaining\nunchanged, the dissimilar elements may be very variable without\naffecting the truth of the proposition, what more natural than that I\nshould go on using the propositional form when the dissimilar elements\nhave diminished to zero--when the proposition has become \"x is x\"? To\nbe sure, no one can take such a proposition literally, any more than\none can soberly believe that one divided by zero results in infinity.\nSuch expressions have their use and value, but they must be properly\nunderstood. If one uses the expression \"x is x\" to emphasize the fact\nthat one is not to pass from x to any y or z--that one is to rule out\nall distinction or sense of difference, the use cannot be harmful.\nAnd the use of the propositional form has this great convenience: it\nputs a period, so to speak, to one's thinking, and prevents one from\ncasting about for a completion of the thought. If one merely say to me\n\"x,\" I shall probably take it as a subject and busy myself to find a\npredicate. If he say \"x is x,\" he says really no more than x, but he\nmakes me fix my thoughts upon x alone.\n\n\nSEC. 20. In the foregoing search for the element that the kinds of\nsameness have in common, I have had in mind chiefly the samenesses of\nthings immediately known. It is not necessary to repeat the search in\nthe field of the \"external.\" We have but the seven kinds of sameness,\nand whatever may be the things that are the same in these several ways,\nthe elements I have indicated must be present if our words are to be\nsignificant. But one thing remains for me to do in this part of my\nmonograph, and that will not detain me long. I must distinguish between\nsameness and identity, or rather point out to what kinds of sameness\nthis latter word is commonly applied.\n\nThe word is often used quite loosely, but where the attempt is made\nto distinguish between identity and sameness in a looser sense, and\nto use terms with some precision, the former word serves to indicate\nsameness in which there is no consciousness of duality, or in which\nthe consciousness of duality has fallen into the background and may\neasily be overlooked. Sameness of the first kind, for example, is\nspoken of as identity. This is the only kind of sameness in which there\nis no element of duality at all. The use of the word identity is not,\nhowever, restricted to this. Locke's inquiry concerning the identity of\nmasses of inorganic matter, of vegetables, of animals, and of persons,\nhas to do with sameness of the third kind on the list. In this kind\nof sameness there is no clear consciousness that one is dealing with\nmore than one thing, and Locke's discussion is conducted throughout as\nthough one were not.\n\nIt may be objected that in certain other kinds there is often no clear\nconsciousness of duality, and yet one does not think of using the\nterm identity. This is quite true. The two kinds mentioned have been\nthought worthy of special discussion by logician and philosopher, and\nhave been given a technical name. The others have not. Still, although\nthe word is not commonly used in such cases, it would, I fancy, seem\nnatural to use it in a direct ratio to the degree in which the sense\nof duality falls into the background. Dr. Johnson would probably have\nbeen willing to say that the stone he saw himself kick was identical\nwith the one the existence of which he wanted to prove. Bishop Berkeley\ncould have felt only disgust at such a use of the term. Scarcely\nanyone, I suppose, would regard himself as speaking strictly if he\ncalled the fourth kind of sameness identity. The co-existence of the\ntwo things compared would prevent their being confounded. Without,\nthen, attempting to assign any very exact limits to the application of\na somewhat loosely used word, I may repeat my former statement that men\nuse the word identity to mark certain kinds of sameness in which there\nis little or no consciousness of duality, and they are not inclined to\nuse it to mark samenesses in which things are recognized as similar but\nclearly distinct.\n\nWith this I end the first part of my discussion, and I confess I draw\na long breath in doing so. When I sat down to write it was with the\nimpression that I could say all that was necessary about the kinds of\nsameness in a much smaller number of pages; but finding it impossible\nto avoid misunderstandings without being more explicit and detailed,\nI have had to change my plan. Now, that I am through, I must confess\nto myself that most persons will find this hair-splitting anything but\nentertaining--which would be held by the inconsiderate to furnish a\npresumption against the truth it contains, if ancient adages go for\nanything. It should be remembered, however, that the old saw which puts\ntruth in a well does not indicate that the well may not be a dry one.\nWith this consolatory reflection I turn to the second part of my task.\n\n\n\n\nPART II.\n\nHISTORICAL AND CRITICAL.\n\n     Those now who propose to hold mutual discussion must needs\n     understand one another somewhat: for without this how can\n     they have any mutual discussion? Each of their words then,\n     must be familiar and have definite meaning, and not many\n     meanings, but one only, and if it have more meanings than\n     one, they must make it clear in which of these senses it is\n     used.\n\n                    Aristotle, Metaph., Book X, c. 5, \u00a7 3.\n\n\nSECTION 21. When Heraclitus of Ephesus, moved thereto by his view\nof the constant flux of things, declared it impossible to enter the\nsame river twice,[30] he evidently supposed that a river can be the\nsame only in the first and strictest sense of the word. He denied,\nconsequently, a right to use the word, as it constantly is used, to\nindicate that certain phenomena belong to a group or series, which,\nin its totality, is to us a single object. When we say that we have\nentered the same river twice we have no reference to the actual\nexperiences of the two occasions considered merely as experiences. Of\ncourse, these are not the same, as each is itself, and they may even be\nsomewhat dissimilar. Nor have we reference to the separate particles\nof which the body of water is composed. We all admit that the water in\na river changes, and yet we never think of saying that the river is\nno longer the same. The two kinds of sameness are quite distinct, yet\nboth are legitimate; and both were as familiar to the ancient Greek as\nto the modern American. Socrates was considered Socrates from boyhood\nthrough youth to manhood. The Ilissus was the Ilissus whether swollen\nor shrunken. The philosopher's difficulty with the river did not arise\nout of the fact that this kind of sameness was not perfectly well\nrecognized in language and in common thought. It arose out of the fact\nthat the beginnings of reflection make many things seem strange which\nbefore passed unnoticed, and sometimes lead to assertion and denial\nevidently contrary to experience and common sense. The unreflective man\ncalls the river the same on two successive days, but he has no clear\nnotion of what the word implies. In a loose way he opposes \"same\" to\n\"different.\" Heraclitus saw that the water in a river is constantly\nchanging. He who enters twice does not enter precisely the same body of\nwater. What more natural, and what more fallacious, than to assert that\nhe does not twice enter the same river?\n\n  [30] Aristotle, Metaph., Bk. III, c. 5, \u00a7 7.\n\n\nSEC. 22. And well might Cratylus hold his peace and move his finger[31]\nwhen he had capped the climax with the statement that the same river\ncould not be entered once. Heraclitus had merely denied sameness of\nthe third kind to be sameness, since it implies duality. Cratylus,\nsurprised by a discovery of duality where he had not before suspected\nit, will not allow the term where there is no duality whatever. It is\nnot surprising that he came at last to be \"of opinion that one ought to\nspeak of nothing.\" Upon such a basis speech loses its significance.\n\n  [31] Aristotle, Metaph. III, c. 5, \u00a7 7.\n\n\nSEC. 23. The Parmenidean argument for the eternity of Being[32] rests\npartly upon a confusion of the first kind of sameness with the fourth.\nBeing has had no origin, for from what could it have been derived?\nNot from the non-existent, for this has no existence: and not from\nthe existent, for it is itself the existent. The quibble about the\nnon-existent we need not consider, though it is seriously repeated by\nmore than one writer of our time. The last part of the argument, \"not\nfrom the existent, for it is itself the existent,\" draws its whole\nforce from the assumption that \"it\" is \"the existent\" as a thing is\nitself, or in the first sense of the word same. But if this be the\ncase, the argument is a mere farce, an argument only in words. The\nphrase, \"derived from the existent,\" means nothing at all unless it\nmeans that the existent in question is before the thing derived. To\nsay it is the thing derived, is to reduce the words to nothing. If it\nmean anything to speak of the existent as derived from the existent, it\nis because each of these is _an_ existent--that is, a thing belonging\nto a class and distinguished from other members of this class by some\ndifference. In this case the difference is that of before and after. An\nexistent derived from an existent is the same with it only as things\nof a class are the same. If we choose to eliminate all differences and\nspeak of \"_the_ existent\" we may do so; but then it is inadmissible\nto raise questions about its derivation, and bring in those very time\ndistinctions between different \"existents\" which we are supposing\nabsent.\n\n  [32] Ueberweg. Hist. of Philos., Vol. I, \u00a7 19, N. Y., 1877, p. 57.\n\n\nSEC. 24. The nihilistic doctrine of Gorgias of Leontini,[33] who taught\nthat nothing exists, that if it did exist it could not be known, and\nthat if it did exist and could be known the knowledge of it could not\nbe communicated by one mind to another, is founded in part upon such\nbad reasoning that it is rather surprising that Gorgias should have\nbeen guilty of it. That part of it, however, which has to do with\nthe communicability of knowledge is rather better than the rest, and\nindicates some progress in reflection. A sign, he says, differs from\nthe thing it signifies. How can one communicate the notion of color\nby words, since the ear hears sounds and not colors? Besides, how can\nthe same idea be in two different persons? This reasoning would seem\nat least plausible, I think, to many minds at the present day. It is\nevidently the offspring of a confusion of samenesses. A sign differs,\nit is true, from the thing signified. The word blue heard by the ear\nis not like the color blue seen or imagined. But if any one pronounce\nthe word, and ask me if I am thinking of the color he has mentioned, I\nsay yes. The sound is not like the color, but it is its representative,\nand one of the proper uses of the word same (the fifth) indicates just\nthis relation between representative and thing represented. Any attempt\nto discredit communication of knowledge on the ground that one cannot\nspeak colors, and that, therefore, one man is speaking one thing and\nthe other thinking another, goes on the supposition that what is said\nand what is thought must be the same in sense first (strict identity)\nor in sense fourth (must be a thing of the same kind). And as to the\nexistence of the same thing in two minds; here Gorgias has evidently\ndiscovered with some surprise that sameness in sense sixth differs from\nsameness in sense first, and has felt impelled to deny it the name\naltogether. He has perceived a duality where most men have not noticed\nit; and, instead of observing that there are samenesses and samenesses,\nand that the communication of knowledge is concerned with the sixth\nkind in this connection, and not with the first, he has denied the\ncommunication of knowledge. Had he found it necessary to carry out\nhis theoretic premises to practical conclusions he would have stopped\ntalking, which he did not; though presumably the irrepressible didactic\ninstinct would have led him, spite of consistency, to imitate Cratylus\nin moving his finger.\n\n  [33] Ueberweg. Hist. of Philos., Vol. I, \u00a7 29, p. 77.\n\n\nSEC. 25. The reasoning in the Platonic Dialogues is very frequently\nnot above suspicion; but it is not easy to find anywhere such a nest\nof paralogisms as we have in the Parmenides. How far Plato was in\nearnest in all this quibbling, and what was his aim, I will not pretend\nto say. He has, however, very well illustrated the possibilities of\nequivocation in juggling with samenesses, and I shall quote a bit\nof the argument concerning the one and the many to show how readily\nthis is done. Almost any part of the dialogue would do, but I choose\nthe first bout between Parmenides and Aristoteles. I take Professor\nJowett's version:[34]\n\n  [34] The Dialogues of Plato. N. Y., 1878. Vol. III, p. 255.\n\nParmenides proceeded: If one is, he said, the one cannot be many?\n\nImpossible.\n\nThen the one cannot have parts, and cannot be a whole?\n\nHow is that?\n\nWhy, the part would surely be the part of a whole?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd that of which no part is wanting, would be a whole?\n\nCertainly.\n\nThen, in either case, one would be made up of parts; both as being a\nwhole, and also as having parts?\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd in either case, the one would be many, and not one?\n\nTrue.\n\nBut, surely, one ought to be not many, but one?\n\nSurely.\n\nThen, if one is to remain one, it will not be a whole, and will not\nhave parts?\n\nNo.\n\nAnd if one has no parts, it will have neither beginning, middle, nor\nend; for these would be parts of one?\n\nRight.\n\nBut then, again, a beginning and an end are the limits of everything?\n\nCertainly.\n\nThen the one, neither having beginning nor end, is unlimited?\n\nYes, unlimited.\n\nAnd therefore formless, as not being able to partake either of round or\nstraight.\n\nHow is that?\n\nWhy, the round is that of which all the extreme points are equidistant\nfrom the centre?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd the straight is that of which the middle intercepts the extremes?\n\nTrue.\n\nThen the one would have parts, and would be many, whether it partook of\na straight or of a round form?\n\nAssuredly.\n\nBut having no parts, one will be neither straight nor round?\n\nRight.\n\nThen, being of such a nature, one cannot be in any place, for it cannot\nbe either in another or in itself.\n\nHow is that?\n\nBecause, if one be in another, it will be encircled in that other in\nwhich it is contained, and will touch it in many places; but that which\nis one and indivisible, and does not partake of a circular nature,\ncannot be touched by a circle in many places.\n\nCertainly not.\n\nAnd one being in itself, will also contain itself, and cannot be other\nthan one, if in itself; for nothing can be in anything which does not\ncontain it.\n\nImpossible.\n\nBut then, is not that which contains other than that which is\ncontained? for the same whole cannot at once be affected actively and\npassively; and one will thus be no longer one, but two?\n\nTrue.\n\nThen one cannot be anywhere, either in itself or in another?\n\nNo.\n\nFurther consider, whether that which is of such a nature can have\neither rest or motion.\n\nWhy not?\n\nWhy, because motion is either motion in place or change in self; these\nare the only kinds of motion.\n\nYes.\n\nAnd the one, when changed in itself, cannot possibly be any longer one.\n\nIt cannot.\n\nAnd therefore cannot experience this sort of motion?\n\nClearly not.\n\nCan the motion of one, then, be in place?\n\nPerhaps.\n\nBut if one moved in place, must it not either move round and round in\nthe same place, or from one place to another?\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd that which moves round and round in the same place, must go round\nupon a centre; and that which goes round upon a centre must have other\nparts which move around the centre; but that which has no centre and no\nparts cannot possibly be carried round upon a centre?\n\nImpossible.\n\nBut perhaps the motion of the one consists in going from one place to\nanother?\n\nPerhaps so, if it moves at all.\n\nAnd have we not already shown that one can not be in anything?\n\nYes.\n\nAnd still greater is the impossibility of one coming into being in\nanything?\n\nI do not see how that is.\n\nWhy, because anything which comes into being in anything, cannot as\nyet be in that other thing while still coming into being, nor remain\nentirely out of it, if already coming into being in it.\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd therefore whatever comes into being in another must have parts, and\nthe one part may be in that other, and the other part out of it; but\nthat which has no parts cannot possibly be at the same time a whole,\nwhich is either within or without anything.\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd how can that which has neither parts, nor a whole, come into being\nanywhere either as a part or a whole? Is not that a still greater\nimpossibility?\n\nClearly.\n\nThen one does not change by a change of place, whether by going\nsomewhere and coming into being in something; or again, by going round\nin the same place; or again, by change in itself?\n\nTrue.\n\nThe one, then, is incapable of any kind of motion?\n\nIncapable.\n\nBut neither can the one exist in anything, as we affirm?\n\nYes, that is affirmed by us.\n\nThen it is never in the same?\n\nWhy not?\n\nBecause being in the same is being in something which is the same.\n\nCertainly.\n\nBut it cannot be in itself, and cannot be in other?\n\nTrue.\n\nThen one is never the same?[35]\n\n  [35] The text of Stallbaum (1848) does not harmonize with\n  this. The version I quote leaves out \u1f10\u03bd, and reads \u03c4\u1f78 \u03b1\u1f50\u03c4\u03cc\n  in the nominative.\n\nIt would seem not.\n\nAnd that which is never in the same has no rest, and stands not still?\n\nIt cannot stand still.\n\nOne, then, as would seem, is neither standing still nor in motion?\n\nClearly not.\n\nNeither will one be the same with itself or other; nor again, other\nthan itself, or other.\n\nHow is that?\n\nIf other than itself it would be other than one, and would not be one.\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd if the same with other, it would be that other, and not itself; so\nthat upon this supposition, too, it would not have the nature of one,\nbut would be other than one?\n\nIt would.\n\nThen it will not be the same with other, or other than itself?\n\nIt will not.\n\nNeither will one be other than other, while it remains one; for not the\none, but only the other, can be other of other, and nothing else.\n\nTrue.\n\nThen not by virtue of being one, will one be other?\n\nCertainly not.\n\nBut if not by virtue of being one, not by virtue of being itself; and\nif not by virtue of being itself, not itself, and itself not being\nother at all, will not be other of anything?\n\nRight.\n\nNeither will one be the same with itself.\n\nWhy not?\n\nBecause the nature of the one is surely not the nature of the same.\n\nWhy is that?\n\nBecause when a thing becomes the same with anything, it does not\nnecessarily become one.\n\nWhy not?\n\nThat which becomes the same with the many necessarily becomes many and\nnot one.\n\nTrue.\n\nAnd yet, if there were no difference between the one and the same, when\na thing became the same, it would always become one; and when it became\none, the same.\n\nCertainly.\n\nAnd, therefore, if one be the same with one, it is not one with one,\nand will therefore be one and also not one.\n\nBut that is surely impossible.\n\nAnd therefore the one can neither be other of other, nor the same with\none.\n\nImpossible.\n\nAnd thus one is neither the same, nor other, in relation to itself or\nother?\n\nNo.\n\nNeither will one be like or unlike itself or other.\n\nWhy not?\n\nBecause likeness is sameness of affections.\n\nYes.\n\nAnd sameness has been shown to be a nature distinct from oneness?\n\nThat has been shown.\n\nBut if one had any other affection than that of being one, it would be\naffected in such a way as to be more than one; and that is impossible.\n\nTrue.\n\nThen one can never have the same affections either as another or as\nitself?\n\nClearly not.\n\nThen it cannot be like other, or like itself.\n\nNo.\n\nNor can it be affected so as to be other, for then it would be affected\nin such a way as to be more than one.\n\nIt would.\n\nThat which is affected in a manner other than itself or other, will be\nunlike itself or other, if sameness of affections is likeness.\n\nTrue.\n\nBut the one, as appears, never having affections other than its own, is\nnever unlike itself or other?\n\nNever.\n\nThen the one is never either like or unlike itself or other?\n\nPlainly not.\n\nIn reading this extract one cannot but admire the courtesy or wonder at\nthe simplicity of Aristoteles. He always answers just as he should to\nkeep the ball rolling; and he is in no wise compelled to do this under\nthe circumstances, for the argument is loose in the extreme. Briefly\nstated, the reasoning is as follows:\n\nOne cannot be a whole, and cannot have parts, for then it would not\nbe one, but many. But if it has no parts it has no beginning, middle,\nor end, and is formless. It is then in no place, for it cannot be in\nitself, since the container must be different from the thing contained;\nnor can it be in other, for it would have to be encircled by that\nother, and touched in many parts, which is impossible. It follows that\nit can neither be at rest nor in motion. Not in motion; for it cannot\nhave change in itself, or it would no longer be one; nor can it have\nmotion in place, whether circular motion upon a centre or motion from\nplace to place; the former for the reason that circular motion implies\na centre and parts around the centre; and the latter because one is\nin no place: and as to coming into being in anything, which may be\nregarded as a kind of motion, while doing this it would have to be part\nin and part not in, which is impossible. It cannot be at rest, for one\nis never in the same; to be in the same, is to be in something which\nis the same, and one cannot be in anything. Nor, farther, can one be\nthe same with itself or other, nor other than itself or other. If other\nthan itself it would not be one; and if the same with other it would\nbe that other, and not itself. On the other hand only other can be\nthe other of other, and not one; and the one cannot be the same with\nitself, for the nature of the one is not the nature of the same, since\nthat which becomes the same with the many does not become one. Finally,\none cannot be like or unlike itself or other, for likeness is sameness\nof affections, and sameness is not oneness; one must, however, have no\naffection except oneness, or it becomes more than one. It cannot, then,\nhave the same affections as itself or other. As, for the same reason,\nit cannot have other affections than itself or other, it cannot be\nunlike.\n\nWe have here one chief error, which runs through almost the whole\nof the argument--is, indeed, the \"Kern\" of the \"Pudel\"--and several\nsubsidiary errors of different kinds. Some of these last are very\nreadily discovered, as that about the coming into being in a thing.\nWith these, however, I am not concerned. I merely remark _en passant_\nthat they may all be cleared up with a little care and accuracy, and\nI turn to the main error, which consists in a constant confusion of\ntwo kinds of sameness. The fact is that Parmenides is always passing\nfrom \"the one,\" or one in the abstract, mere oneness, to \"a one,\"\nor one object. These are no more identical in the strict sense than\n\"manhood\" and \"a man,\" and in overlooking their difference he is simply\nconfounding the first and the fourth kinds of sameness. \"The one\"\ncannot have parts, for the good reason that it is a quality taken by\nitself, and not a thing, which is thought as a bundle of qualities. \"A\none,\" on the other hand, may have parts, and each of these parts may be\n\"a one\" too. \"A one\" by no means consists of a single element, oneness,\nbut of this element combined with others; and each such group may be\ndistinguished from each other such group, and all be recognized as\nsimilar, or the same in a true sense of the word. The question whether\none can be in a place, too, evidently has to do, not with \"the one,\"\nbut \"a one,\" for spacial or temporal differences are individualizing,\nand distinguish a thing from another thing of the same kind. To ask\nwhether \"the one\" may or may not be in a place is inadmissible.\n\nThe same error is at the bottom of the argument about the one's being\nin motion or at rest. The question has no significance except in\nreference to \"a one.\" If we speak of \"the one\" as in motion, we at\nonce put this abstract element in such a relation to other elements\nthat we have no longer \"the one\" but \"a one.\" \"The one\" cannot have\nchange in itself and remain \"the one,\" but \"a one\" may change a good\ndeal and still be \"a one.\" And without admitting the justice of the\nargument, that what has no parts cannot be in anything, the proof of\nthe impossibility of motion in space may be condemned merely upon the\nground that it is only \"the one\" which cannot have parts, while it is\nonly \"a one\" which is concerned in the problem of motion. The same\nmay be said for the argument against the one's coming into being in\nanything. It is only \"a one\" which can be thought as coming into being\nin a thing, and \"a one\" may have parts. As for the impossibility of the\none's being at rest, on the ground that to be at rest, a thing must be\nin the same, and one cannot be in anything--this is a repetition of the\nformer error. \"A one\" may be in something, as has been pointed out,\neven on the basis established at the outset, and it is with this, and\nnot with \"the one,\" that we are concerned in the problem of rest and\nmotion.\n\nThe rest of the argument is based upon errors of a different kind, and\nin it one may keep to \"the one\" throughout, if one choose. There is,\nof course, no reason to think that the speaker did this. He probably\nhere, as before, carried over to \"a one,\" one thought as an individual\nthing, distinctions drawn in view of \"the one,\" one viewed in the\nabstract. As some of the statements made may be true or false as one\nis taken in this sense or that; and particularly as the antinomy rests\nupon a misconception as to the nature of sameness, I will continue the\nanalysis. What is to be proved is, first, that one cannot be the same\nwith itself or other, or other than itself or other; and second, that\nit cannot be like or unlike itself or other. The position that the one,\nif other than itself, would not be one, and if the same with other,\nwould be that other, is somewhat ambiguous. If \"a one\" is in question,\nit may undoubtedly be \"a one\" and yet be other than any particular one;\nand it may be the same with other--another one--without ceasing to\nbe one, if by same we mean similar. The play upon words in \"other of\nother\" it is not necessary to consider. The conclusion that one cannot\nbe the same with itself is based upon the supposition that sameness\nis a quality superadded to the other qualities of a thing; but in its\nfirst sense the word does not even serve to indicate a relation; it is\nmerely used to point out the absence of duality. Both \"a one\" and \"the\none\" may be the same with themselves perfectly well, and in saying so\nwe do not in thought endow them with any quality not already possessed.\nThis last error serves also as a basis to the second paradoxical\nposition, that one cannot be like or unlike itself or other. It assumes\nlikeness and unlikeness to be qualities added to the other qualities\nof things which are like or unlike.\n\nA possible objection to my use of the term \"a one\" I must forestall\nbefore passing on. I have used this as synonymous with \"one object.\"\nOne horse is one object, and so is one part of a horse. It may be said,\nhowever, that \"a one\" may also be used to signify a single occurrence\nof oneness, as distinguished from another occurrence of oneness. That\nany element of consciousness may be distinguished from any similar\nelement merely by spatial or temporal differences I have argued in the\nfirst part of my monograph. Why may not then \"a one\" mean the oneness\nof this one horse, or the oneness of this part of the horse? And if it\nmay, can \"a one\" of this kind have parts any more than \"the one?\"\n\nI answer, it cannot; for it is then only a particular occurrence of\nthe quality (if I may so use the word) of oneness. But, then, if we so\nunderstand the term, the argument loses all significance. We cannot\ncall \"a one\" of this kind a container or a thing contained, or talk\nof it as encircled by anything. We do not even try to imagine it as\nmoving on its centre, or passing from place to place, or coming into\nbeing in anything, or being at rest in anything. Such language we use\nonly in speaking of things. It seems to me plain that the speaker is\nthinking of one as a thing, and it is this that gives its charm to the\nbundle of paradoxes. The Eleatic \"one\" was always a thing and not mere\nunity or an occurrence of unity. My criticism of the reasoning is, I\nthink, just. And whether Plato is responsible for the Parmenides or\nnot, we must agree that such a confusion of \"the one\" and \"a one\" (as\nan object) would not be foreign to his modes of thought. His world of\nIdeas is peopled with \"the\"'s turned into \"a\"'s, a fact which his acute\npupil Aristotle was not slow to discover.[36]\n\n  [36] Metaph. XII, c. 4.\n\n\nSEC. 26. Aristotle has again and again discussed with his usual\nkeenness the kinds of sameness. He saw well enough that the word\nis ambiguous, and may with equal right be employed in speaking of\nexperiences which do or do not contain an element of duality. He has\npointed out that the law of non-contradiction has to do with sameness\nof the first kind, and not with the others.[37] His question as to\n\"Socrates\" and \"Socrates sitting,\" his treatment of \"Coriscus\" and \"the\nmusical Coriscus,\" his statement that the white and the musical are\nthe same when they are accidents in the same subject,[38] show that\nhe clearly understood the significance of sameness in sense third.\nHe gives us sense fourth when he says that things may be called the\nsame when they belong to the same species or genus.[39] In his polemic\nagainst the Protagorean doctrine of relativity,[40] senses sixth\nand seventh come to the surface, though they are not very clearly\nor exhaustively discussed. The fallacy in the apparent possibility\nof attributing contradictory predicates to the same subject, from\nthe fact that the same wine may appear sweet to one taster and not\nsweet to another, or at one time sweet and at another not sweet to\nthe one palate, is laid bare in the distinction between kinds of\nsameness. Aristotle distinguishes between the wine itself and the\nsensations it produces in different persons, and he recognizes the\nfact that one man's perception of the \"same\" wine need not be wholly\nlike that of another. But this does not imply any violation of the\nlaw of non-contradiction, for each sensation is just what it is at\nany instant; and the statement that the same wine is sweet and not\nsweet at the one moment amounts only to saying that the one object can\ncause dissimilar sensations in two minds at one moment. As much may be\nsaid for the non-simultaneous sensations of the one man. Sensations\ndiffering in time are two, and may differ without violating any law.\nIn marking the fact that when we say two men perceive the same thing\nwe do not mean that the immediate object of knowledge is in the two\ncases strictly one, but merely that these two objects are related in\na peculiar way, Aristotle draws the line between sameness in sense\nfirst and in sense sixth. As to sense seventh. He distinguishes between\nthe apparent and the real, and yet goes on speaking, quite in modern\nfashion, as though one thing could serve for both. He points out, _\u00e0\npropos_ of pressing upon the eyeball and doubling the visual image,\nthat there is a distinction between the apparent and the real, and\nthen closes the paragraph with the remark that \"to those persons who\ndo not move their organ of vision that which is one appears one.\"[41]\nThis language would certainly seem to indicate that that which is\nappears--or that they are the same in some strict sense of the word.\nThe sentence reads much in the style of Mr. Spencer or Sir William\nHamilton.\n\n  [37] Metaph. III, c. 5, \u00a7 10; c. 6, \u00a7 3.\n\n  [38] _Ibid._ III, c. 2, \u00a7 6; IV, c. 6, \u00a7 1, and c. 9, \u00a7 1.\n\n  [39] _Ibid._ IV, c. 9, \u00a7 1, and c. 6.\n\n  [40] _Ibid._ III, c. 5, \u00a7 10; X, c. 6, \u00a7 6.\n\n  [41] Metaph. X, c. 6, \u00a7 2.\n\nIt appears, then, that Aristotle recognized a sameness in which there\nis no sense of duality, and samenesses in which two things are called\nthe same and yet distinguished as two. Our way of expressing strict\nidentity, however, a way which, as I have shown, does not properly\nexpress it all--seems to have misled him into finding a sort of\nquasi duality even here, where he knows it to be really absent. In a\nchapter[42] devoted to sameness and diversity, he closes his list of\nsamenesses with the remark: \"It is plain that sameness is a oneness\neither of two or more things with reference to their essence, or of one\nthing treated as two; as when you say a thing is the same with itself,\nfor then you do treat it as two.\" We do employ two words, undoubtedly;\nbut if we are really thinking a thing as itself, we are not making\nit dual in any sense whatever. The quotation smacks just a little of\nCratylus.\n\n  [42] _Ibid._ IV, c. 9.\n\n\nSEC. 27. The sceptical arguments of Pyrrho are excellent instances of a\nconfusion of samenesses. The argument, for example, that since an apple\nseen by the eye as yellow seems to the taste sweet, and to the smell as\nfragrant, \"that which is seen is just as likely to be something else as\nthe reality;\"[43] this argument gains what little plausibility it may\nhave from the assumption that an object seen and an object tasted are\n(or ought to be) the same in sense first instead of sense third.\n\n  [43] Diogenes La\u00ebrtius. IX, 9.\n\nAnd the complaints, that things believed to be large, sometimes, as\nwhen at a distance, appear small; that things which we believe to be\nstraight, sometimes seem bent; that the sun has one appearance in the\nmorning, and another at noon;[44] these, and all others like them,\nassume that an object seen near at hand and then seen at a distance, a\nstick seen as straight and then seen as crooked, the sun on the horizon\nand the sun at the zenith, are in each case one strictly, and not\nmerely one as each element in a complex of experiences is one with each\nother element, when any one may represent the whole. The conclusion\nthat, since it is not possible to view things without reference to\n\"place and position,\" their true nature cannot be known,[45] is founded\nupon this error.\n\n  [44] _Ibid._ loc. cit.\n\n  [45] _Ibid._ loc. cit.\n\nThis becomes clear when one asks, what is it, after all, the nature\nof which is so in doubt? Is it a stick? the sun? These words are\nambiguous. Two consecutive experiences of the same stick--as we\nordinarily use this word in speaking of sticks--are not strictly\nidentical, and need not be alike. The stick seen on two occasions is\nnot the same stick in sense I. If I limit the meaning of the words \"the\nstick\" to one of these experiences, then the true nature of the stick\nis just what is experienced on that occasion. What is experienced on\nthe second occasion is another stick, and its true nature is also just\nwhat it seems to be. If, however, by \"the stick\" I do not mean only the\nexperience of one moment, but a series of experiences differing more or\nless from one another, then I am under no necessity to select one of\nthem as the true nature of the stick, for its true nature is nothing\nmore nor less than the whole group of experiences. If I try to discover\nor to invent some new experience which I may call the true nature of\nthe group, I am simply adding to it in thought another experience which\ntakes its place among those the group already contains. I am playing\nwith the word nature. This last experience could not be more important\nthan those among which it is placed, and it could not stand for any one\nof them in any other way than each of them could stand for it. Should\nit be objected that by \"the stick\" one does not mean either a single\nexperience of the stick or the sum total of the group of experiences,\nbut a something distinct from all these and inferred through them,\nI answer, that in this case the argument from the variability of\nexperiences is not to the point. Such a \"stick\" as this would be the\nsame with either of those just discussed only in the seventh sense\nof the word, and its nature would be the same with their nature only\nin that sense too. An experience of the stick out of \"place and\nposition,\" if that were conceivable, would not give us this \"stick,\"\nfor such an experience would still be an experience. It must never be\nforgotten that this \"external\" stick is quite distinct from any or all\nexperiences, and could not be given in experiences of any kind. It\ncan only be inferred. If an unvarying series of experiences is good\nground for inferring an unvarying \"external\" stick, similar to what is\nexperienced, one would suppose a varying series of experiences would\nfurnish a basis for inference of a varying \"external\" stick, in its\nsuccessive phases like what is experienced. Unless some reason is given\nfor a discrimination in favor of the unvarying series, the argument\nfrom variation does not affect the \"external\" stick at all.\n\nIt is evident, however, that in this particular argument, at least,\nthe \"external\" is not in Pyrrho's mind at all. What perplexes him is,\nthat what he is accustomed to call a straight stick sometimes looks\ncrooked. On reflection he discovers that he calls it straight only\nbecause it seems straight on some occasions; and if it may at one time\nseem straight and at another seem crooked, which is it in reality?\nThe question is a very natural one. The unreflective do not ask it,\nbecause they assume that one of the experiences is to be taken as\nexpressing the true nature of the object and the other relegated to\nthe sphere of more or less deceptive appearance. The man who has begun\nto reflect does ask it, because he sees that the assumed true nature\nis an appearance too, and it naturally occurs to him that it also may\nbe deceptive. If he reflected more, he would see that he is partly\nright and partly wrong. We do not regard as equally important every\nelement in the group of experiences which we call an object. Certain\nelements, notably the tactual qualities and those visual experiences\nwhich give us the best opportunity of inferring the tactual qualities,\nstand in the foreground when we speak of the object. We name the object\naccording to these. In saying \"a straight stick\" we have prominently\nin mind certain tactual experiences, and certain visual experiences\nwhich normally are connected with these and give us the right to\ninfer them. We call any appearance delusive which leads us to infer\ntactual experiences, and visual experiences of a kind regarded as\nbest representative of these tactual experiences, when such cannot be\nactually experienced. Certain elements in the total group, which is\nto us an experienced object, may then properly be regarded as in a\nsense the true nature of the object, they are the most important part,\nand the part to which other elements are referred. These elements may\njustly be regarded as delusive when they mislead us in our inferences\nas to the important elements. So far the common man is right. And as\nno element is delusive in itself, but only in so far as it refers\nthe mind to something else, and to the wrong something else, those\nelements which are ultimate and not used as signs of others, cannot be\ndelusive. In raising this question with regard to them Pyrrho is wrong.\nThese elements may, to be sure, be used as signs or indications of any\nother elements in the group, and in their turn made stepping stones;\nbut this is not commonly done, and language and common thought rarely\nmark logical possibilities. The language in use fairly expresses the\nattitude of the average man towards the elements in his thought.\n\nOn the other hand, the unreflective man speaks as if the less\nimportant, or perhaps I had better say less prominent, experiences\nwere not a part of the object as he knows it. He seems to regard the\nwhole object as actually present, when a single experience only is\npresent. In putting all experiences on the same plane, so to speak, the\nPyrrhonist makes a genuine advance. Wherein he errs is this: He sees\nthat a stick seen near at hand is as much an experience or appearance\nas a stick seen at a distance, and that one of these phenomena does not\ndiffer in kind from the other; he sees also that to assume that one is\nthe real stick and the other is not, seems to go upon the assumption\nthat they differ in kind; he is consequently unwilling to call any one\nof his experiences the real stick, and yet he insists upon looking\nfor a real stick, which may be expressed in a single experience. It\nnever seems to occur to him that the real stick may be the name of the\nwhole series of experiences in their appropriate relations. He wishes\na sameness in the strict sense, with no element of duality. The stick\nseen straight in the air, and seen bent in the water, is the same stick\nin sense third. It takes both of these experiences to express the\ntrue nature of this stick. No one experience could serve. It is the\nbattle between stick as a single experience, and stick as a group of\nexperiences, that leads to all the confusion.\n\nI have given as much space to Pyrrho as I care to, and I will not\ndelay over him and his successors. These furnish good material to one\nfond of analysis. There is, however, a great deal of repetition among\nthe sceptics. They occupy themselves chiefly either in confounding\nthe first kind of sameness with the third, as in the preceding; or\nin confounding the first kind with the sixth, as in the argument for\nuncertainty drawn from the varying guise under which the same object\nappears to different persons. The ambiguity of the word same, as\nhere used, is apparent, and it is in this ambiguity that they become\nentangled.\n\n\nSEC. 28. Into the labyrinths of the scholastic philosophy I hesitate to\nenter, and yet I could hardly be excused for passing on to the moderns\nwithout at least a reference to the great dispute over Universals--a\ndispute which is, at bottom, a quarrel concerning samenesses. I shall\nspeak of it very briefly.\n\nThe object of the general term or class name is in question. Plato,\ndistinguishing between the universal and the individual, between man\nand men, thought it necessary, according to Aristotle, who has not,\nI think, done him injustice, to assume an object for the universal\noutside of and apart from all the individuals forming a class. The Idea\nis a real thing, _the_ real thing in which the individuals participate,\nor of which they are copies; but it is not itself to be found in any\nor all of them, except, so to speak, in a figurative or metaphorical\nway. Aristotle, finding no reason to assume a new individual, for so he\nregarded the Platonic Idea, placed the universal _in_ the individuals\ncomposing the class. Certain of the schoolmen, emphasizing the\ndistinction between real things and mental representations, maintained\nthat only individuals have real existence, and asserted either that\nuniversals exist merely as peculiar combinations of mental elements\nwhich serve to think the objects forming a class, or that the universal\nis the word, which may be applied indifferently to many individuals\nof one kind. In these views we have the _universalia ante rem_, the\n_universalia in re_, and the _universalia post rem_; or extreme\nRealism, moderate Realism, and Nominalism in its two forms.\n\nThe examination into the respective merits of the positions which\nhave been taken with regard to universals will be facilitated by\ndistinguishing carefully between the different spheres of being; that\nis, between things immediately known and \"real\" things mediately\nknown, as also between things contained in one consciousness and those\ncontained in another. It is plainly important not to confound these\nclasses with each other.\n\nLet us take, first, a number of resembling objects in a single\nconsciousness. I have already pointed out that when we say several\nsuch objects are the same we do not at all mean to deny that they\nare distinct objects. We merely wish to indicate that each possesses\ncertain elements which, taken by themselves, and after making\nabstraction from all other elements, render impossible any distinction\nbetween different objects. We distinguish two objects as two through\nsome difference, even if it be only local or temporal. Redness combined\nwith x and redness combined with y are recognized as two occurrences of\nredness, but this only on account of x and y. Redness perceived to-day\nand redness perceived yesterday are two occurrences of redness, marked\nas such by the \"to-day\" and the \"yesterday.\" Redness considered simply\ncontains nothing which will allow of such distinctions. This does not\nimply at all that redness considered simply is _an occurrence of\nredness_--that since we have not two or more occurrence of the quality\nwe have a single occurrence of it, an individual. We have not, if we\nhave really abstracted from all save the redness, any \"occurrence\" or\n\"occurrences\" at all, for these imply just the elements of difference\nwhich we are endeavoring to eliminate. An \"occurrence\" of redness means\nredness with a difference which will mark it out from other redness,\nfrom another \"occurrence.\" If, then, one gives to twenty individuals a\ncommon name to indicate that they resemble each other, or are in some\nsense the same, he should keep clearly in mind just what this means.\nIt means that along with various differing elements each contains\nthe element x. He should remember that each individual is the same\nwith each other individual only in this sense, sense fourth. When he\nproposes to separate the x from the other elements, and consider it\nseparately, he should be most careful to see that he is really taking\nit separately, and not allowing shreds of foreign matter to hang to it\nand give rise to difficulties and perplexities. He should not overlook\nthe fact that there is a fallacy in the very question, Whether the x\nin one individual is identical (the same in sense first) with the x\nin any other individual? If these two x's are distinguishable as in\ntwo individuals, one is not considering x merely, but x with other\nelements. The separation of the x element from the other elements in\nthe objects is here not complete, or one would be considering not \"an\nx\" or \"x's,\" but x. Any one who sees this must see that he who asks\nsuch a question is retaining a duality, and then trying to get out of\nit an identity with no element of duality. He is \"milking the he-goat.\"\nHe is trying to reduce sameness in sense fourth to sameness in sense\nfirst.\n\nTwenty objects immediately known must not be confounded with twenty\n\"real\" things not immediately known, and of which the objects are\nsupposed to be representatives. These two classes are the same with\neach other only in sense seventh. I have discussed in detail in the\nfirst part of my monograph the samenesses of \"real\" things, and it is\nnot necessary to repeat what I have said. It is enough to state that it\nwas there made evident that when we speak of a number of similar \"real\"\nthings as the same, we use the word in sense fourth, and have in mind\njust the elements which are present when we speak of several similar\nimmediate objects of knowledge as the same. We are merely carrying\nover to a set of imagined duplicates a distinction which we observe\nin objects recognized as within consciousness. When, therefore, we\ngive twenty \"real\" things a common name, and form them into a class,\nbecause they are alike, we mean that along with various other \"real\"\nelements, each of these objects contains the \"real\" element x. The word\nsame means to us just what it does when we speak of twenty similar\nimmediate objects as the same. We have changed only the objects; we\nhave not changed the sameness and all that depends upon it. Two such\nobjects are the same in sense fourth, and never in sense first. If they\ncould be the same in sense first, they would not be two. When a man\nundertakes to separate in thought the \"real\" x element from the other\n\"real\" elements in two or more such objects, he should be careful, as\nin the case of immediate objects, to make a complete separation and not\na partial one. He should see here, too, that the question whether the x\nin one object and the x in another are strictly identical, is a foolish\none. \"This x\" and \"that x\" are not strictly identical, or they would\nnot be \"this x\" and \"that x.\" Remove completely the \"this\" and the\n\"that\" and all other differing elements--leave, that is, only x, and\nthe possibility of any such question simply disappears. If there still\nseem to anyone ground for a question in the premises, it is evidence\nthat he is not considering merely x. He is trying to keep two things\ntwo, and yet make them one.\n\nTwenty objects in one consciousness must not be confounded with twenty\nobjects in another. When we speak of two men as seeing the same thing,\nwe do not mean that the object in one mind is the same with the\nobject in the other in sense first, but in sense sixth. This does not\nprevent them from being two. A single object in one mind may be the\nsame with itself in sense first. A number of similar objects in one\nmind may be the same in sense fourth. Two objects or two classes of\nobjects in different minds may be the same in sense sixth. One may, to\nbe sure, think of twenty objects in one mind, and of the same (sense\nsixth) twenty objects in another mind as forty objects. Philosophical\nreflection naturally leads to this. I am inducing a reader to do it\nwhen I tell him that an object in one mind and the same object in\nanother are two objects. But in doing this, one must bear in mind the\nfact that the forty objects belong to two quite distinct classes, and\nthat common language would not reckon them as forty, but as twenty. In\nthis there is, of course, a pitfall for the unwary.\n\nNow, when Plato looked for the object of the general name, for the x\ncontained in a class of similar objects, what did he do? He created\na new object distinct from and apart from all the others. He is very\nvague in his statements, and he was probably quite as vague in his\nthought; but I cannot see how anyone familiar with the Phaedrus, the\nRepublic, the Timaeus, the Symposium and the Parmenides, and familiar\nwith Plato's concrete way of thinking in images, can avoid coming to\nthe conclusion that the Idea was to him predominantly an object, an\nindividual--a vague and inconsistent object, if you please, but still\nan object. But _an_ x is in no sense a universal. It is the same with\nother x's only in sense fourth; that is, it is like them. The x that\nthey have in common must be x considered simply, not x considered as\nhere or there, in this place or in that. All such differences must be\neliminated if one is to get not an individual, but a universal. If the\nIdea may be considered as _apart_ from objects, it is an object in so\nfar not essentially differing from the others. Again, the Platonic Idea\nis an object, but not to be put upon the same plane with other objects.\nThey suffer change, while it is immutable; they are perceivable by\nthe senses, and it is not. The objects of sense and the Idea are in\ndifferent worlds; and though we cannot accuse Plato of drawing the\ndistinctions of the modern hypothetical realist, he has certainly given\nus a suggestive parallel to the Lockian ideas and \"real\" things. The\ntrouble has arisen out of his difficulty in keeping an abstraction\nabstract; he has turned it into a concrete, and, finding in the world\nof sense no place for this concrete, this new individual, he has given\nit a world of its own. Whatever this object in this world apart may be,\nit is certainly not what is common to twenty individuals in the world\nof sensible things.\n\nAristotle, seeing this difficulty, placed the idea _in_ the objects\nforming the class. It may be objected that putting x _in_ a place\nindividualizes it as much as putting it _out of_ a place. This is quite\ntrue if the \"in\" is taken locally--taken as it is when we speak of a\nman as being in one room rather than another. The x in one object is\nnot identically the x in another object. We do not get the universal,\nx in the abstract, until we lose the distinctions \"in the one object,\"\nand \"in the other object.\" Two x's cannot be the same in sense first,\nfrom the mere fact that they are two; an x in one place and an x in\nanother place are always two. If, however, by the statement that the\nuniversal is in the objects, one mean merely that the universal is that\nelement x, which, combined with certain elements, forms a total which\nis known as this object, and combined with certain others forms a total\nwhich is known as that, but taken by itself contains no distinction of\nthis and that; if this is all that is meant by the \"in,\" there is no\nobjection to the use of the statement, and it is strictly true. The x\nelement is a part of each of the objects, but, until some addition is\nmade to it, it is not \"the x in this object\" or \"the x in that object\";\nit is what they have in common. The \"in common\" means just this.\n\nThe Nominalistic doctrine that only individuals have real existence,\nand that the universal, whatever it may be, is to be sought in the\nmind, distinguishes between the spheres of being and denies to one what\nit allows to another. Of the extreme nominalistic position, that the\nonly true universal is the word, which may be applied indifferently\nto several distinct objects, I shall not here speak. I have discussed\nthis wholly untenable view elsewhere.[46] But the more reasonable\nNominalism, the conceptualistic, is worthy of examination here. In\nso far as it holds that the mind can form a concept, which shall\nconsist of the element or elements several objects have in common, we\nhave no quarrel with it. Here we find a true universal, obtained by\ndiscarding differences which distinguish objects from one another.\nWe obtain by this that mental core common to several similar mental\nobjects. If, however, we distinguish between mental objects and\n\"real\" things corresponding to them, we have evidently two distinct\nfields to consider. When we say a number of objects in consciousness\nare alike, we are simply pointing out the fact that they contain a\nuniversal element as well as individual differences. Can we say that a\nnumber of \"real\" objects are alike? If so, what do we mean in saying\nit? If there is nothing to prevent us from calling them individuals,\nthere would seem to be nothing to prevent us from affirming that they\nare \"really\" alike. Does likeness ever mean anything except sameness\nin difference? Is not, then, the element in which several objects\nresemble each other a universal element, whether the objects be mental\nor \"real?\" What else does universal mean? The excuse for speaking\nceases when language ceases to be significant. One does not in the\nleast explain the similarity, or sameness in the fourth sense, of a\nnumber of \"real\" objects, by assuming a universal in a quite different\nworld--one which could not possibly exist in the world of the objects.\nThis solution of the problem is Platonic. The element which twenty\nreal objects have in common must be a \"real\" element, or it cannot be\na constituent part of each object. If it is not a constituent part\nof each object, it is absurd to speak of the objects as having it in\ncommon. If they have nothing in common, it is absurd to say that they\nare alike. Twenty similar objects must have a universal element, to\nwhatever sphere of being they belong; and this element must belong\nto the same sphere as the objects. A mental universal is the same\nwith a \"real\" universal only in sense seventh, and it can furnish no\nexplanation of the likeness of \"real\" things.\n\n  [46] See my \"Conception of the Infinite,\" Ch. VI (J. B. Lippincott\n  Co., Philadelphia). It is but fair to state that my criticism of\n  Realism in this volume is directed against the \"_ante rem_\" Realism.\n  I did not have the Moderate Realism in mind, and what I said will not\n  apply to it.\n\nIn the light of the foregoing analysis a goodly number of the\nscholastic arguments regarding universals are easily seen to contain\nerrors. The Anselmic view of genera and species as universal\nsubstances,[47] for instance, makes an abstraction a thing and\ndistinguishes it from other things. It fails to keep it abstract.\nThe doctrine attributed to William of Champeaux, by Abelard, that\nuniversals are essentially and wholly present in each of their\nindividuals, in which latter there is no diversity of essence, but only\nvariety through accidents,[48] is tenable or not according to the\nsense in which the words are taken. The word \"wholly\" is an awkward\none, and would incline one to the view that William regarded the\nuniversal as a thing, a concrete, which may be in this place or that.\nIf this were his opinion, and it is perhaps more reasonable to believe\nthat it was, the objection of Abelard, that this would necessitate\nthe same thing's being in different places at the same time, would\nhold good. If the essence of humanity be wholly in Socrates, it must\nbe where Socrates is. It cannot, then, be somewhere else in Plato.\nManifestly humanity, so regarded, is not a universal at all. It is\n\"this humanity\" or \"that humanity,\" _i. e._, this or that occurrence\nof humanity; and two occurrences of a quality or group of qualities\nare two individuals. The word \"in\" I have shown to be ambiguous. Any\nelement, regarded as, in one sense, _in_ an individual, retains the\nlocal flavor which makes universality impossible. But if William\nmeant nothing more by his statement than that the element common to\nthe individuals is a constituent part of each, and that there is in\nit no distinction which will allow us to put it part here and part\nthere, the polemic of Abelard is not justifiable. Whatever he may\nhave intended to say, there can be no mistake as to the meaning of\nthe following sentence from Robert Pulleyn: \"The species is the whole\nsubstance of individuals, and the whole species is the same in each\nindividual: therefore the species is one substance, but its individuals\nmany persons, and these many persons are that one substance.\"[49]\nThe dialectician represented as saying this, ought to have been a\nprey to profound melancholy; his samenesses are clearly in deplorable\nconfusion. He makes his universal an individual, and then imposes upon\nit duties which no individual can fulfil with credit. It is to be one\nand yet not one: distinct from something else, and yet identical with\nit. It is to be a universal and not a universal. It is by no means to\nbe envied. The conceptualistic position of Abelard, that we may gain a\nsubjective universal by abstraction, but that only individuals exist\nin reality, is open to the objections that I advanced in discussing\nNominalism. The position is supported[50] by the argument that we\nmay abstract the form from the substantial subject to which it is\nunited, and consider it separately, while in nature there is no such\nabstraction, the form and the subject forming a united whole. To this\none may answer, as I have indicated above, that, whatever it may be\nunited with, the form in the several individuals is in some sense the\nsame, or the individuals would not be alike, and the concept would be\nof no service in representing it. What is meant by such sameness? Is\nit anything but sameness in sense fourth? When several objects are the\nsame in sense fourth, is not the element common to them a universal?\nWhy make this conceptualistic discrimination between things in mind and\n\"real\" things?\n\n  [47] Haur\u00e9au. _Philos. Scholastique._ Paris, 1872. I, p. 281.\n\n  [48] _Historia Calamitatum_, quoted by Haur\u00e9au. I, p. 324.\n\n  [49] _Species est tota substantia individuorum, totaque species\n  eademque in singulis reperitur individuis: itaque species una est\n  substantia, ejus vero individua mult\u00e6 person\u00e6, et h\u00e6 mult\u00e6 person\u00e6\n  sunt illa una substantia._ (_Sentent._, p. I, c. III.)--Quoted by\n  Haur\u00e9au, I, p. 328.\n\n  [50] Haur\u00e9au, I, 380-381. The argument is taken from the _De\n  Intellectibus_.\n\nFinally, in passing from scholasticism, I would suggest that it is\nconducive to clearness in thinking to bear in mind that when Albert,\nor Thomas, or Duns, declares in favor of all three kinds of universal,\n_ante rem_, _in re_, and _post rem_, he is declaring for three things\nand not one. He is not at all in the position of the old Platonic\nRealist; but is rather, if I may so express it, a kind of triple\nAristotelian. One may perfectly well hold to all three universals,\nby putting one in the mind of God, one in things, and one in a human\nmind; but an individual may be given this three-fold existence quite as\nwell as a universal. In the old Realism the problem of the universal\ncalled into existence a new sphere of being. Here a new sphere of\nbeing, assumed upon extraneous grounds, furnishes one more universal.\nThe universals in the mind of God are not assumed as the object of\nthe general name applied to twenty \"real\" objects. The object of this\nname is the _in re_. The _ante rem_ universal cannot, then, be gotten\nas Plato got it. In this distinction between the different spheres\nof being we have an advance in reflection; but as I have said, on\nthis new ground the individual may demand its rights. The _ante rem_\nRealism of the great scholastics of the thirteenth century should not\nbe confounded with that of an earlier period. It is not open to the\nsame objections. But on the other hand, it has not the same excuse for\nexistence. It is a historical relic.\n\n\nSEC. 29. The first of the moderns to whom I shall refer is Descartes.\nThere are certain passages in the Meditations which will well\nillustrate the efforts made by this remarkable man in the direction\nof accurate analysis, as also the errors into which he fell through a\nconfusion of the kinds of sameness. I shall quote from the second and\nthird Meditations:\n\n\"Let us now accordingly consider the things which are commonly thought\nthe easiest of all to know, and which are thought also to be the most\ndistinctly known, that is, the bodies that we touch and see; not indeed\nbodies in general, for these general notions are usually a little more\nconfused: but let us consider a single one of them. Let us take, for\nexample, this bit of wax; it has just been taken from the hive; it\nhas not yet lost the sweetness of the honey it contained; it still\nkeeps something of the odor of the flowers from which it has been\ngathered; its color, its figure, its size, are apparent; it is hard,\nit is cold, it is easily handled, and if struck it gives a sound. In\na word, everything that can make a body distinctly known is found in\nthis one. But notice, while I speak, it is placed near the fire; what\nremained of savor and odor disappears, its color changes, its figure\nis lost, its size increases, it becomes liquid, grows hot, one can\nscarcely handle it, and when struck it no longer gives a sound. Does\nthe same wax remain after this change? One must admit that it does; no\none doubts it; no one judges otherwise. What then was it that was known\nwith so much distinctness in this bit of wax? Certainly nothing that I\nperceived by means of the senses, for all the things which fall under\ntaste, smell, sight, touch and hearing, are changed, and yet the same\nwax remains. Perhaps it was what I think now, namely, that this wax\nwas neither the sweetness of honey, the agreeable odor of flowers, the\nwhiteness, the figure, nor the sound, but only a body which a little\nbefore appeared to my senses under these forms, and which now appears\nto them under others. But to speak precisely, what do I imagine when I\nthink it in this way? Let us consider it attentively, and abstracting\nall that does not belong to the wax, let us see what remains. Surely\nnothing remains but something extended, flexible and mutable. But what\nis that, flexible and mutable? Is it not that I imagine that this bit\nof wax, being round, is capable of becoming square and of changing\nfrom square to triangular? No, it is certainly not that, for I think\nit capable of an infinite number of similar changes; but I could not\nrun through this infinite number by my imagination, and consequently\nthis conception that I have of the wax is not due to the faculty of\nimagination. But what now is this extension? Is it not also unknown?\nFor it becomes greater when the wax melts, greater when it boils, and\nstill greater when the heat increases, and I could not conceive clearly\nand truly what wax is, if I did not think that even this bit that we\nare considering is capable of receiving more varieties of extension\nthan I have ever imagined. It must then be admitted that I could not\ncomprehend by imagination even what this bit of wax is, and that only\nmy understanding can comprehend it. I say this particular bit of wax;\nfor as for wax in general, it is still more evident. But what is this\nbit of wax that cannot be comprehended save by the understanding or\nthe mind? It is certainly the same that I see, that I touch, that\nI imagine; it is, in a word, the same that I have always thought it\nfrom the beginning. But, what is important to note here is, that my\nperception is not a sensation of sight, nor of touch, nor an act of the\nimagination, and it has never been this, although it may have seemed so\nbefore; but it is merely an intuition (_inspection_) of the mind, which\nmay be imperfect and confused as it was before, or clear and distinct\nas it is at present, according as my attention is directed more or less\nto the elements in it, and of which it is composed.\n\n\"However, I cannot be too much surprised when I consider the weakness\nof my mind and its proneness to be carried insensibly into error.\nFor even when I consider all this in my own mind, and without using\nlanguage, the words arrest me, and I am almost deceived by the terms in\ncommon use; for we say that we see the same wax if it be present, and\nnot that we judge that it is the same, from its having the same color\nand figure; whence I might be tempted to conclude that one knows the\nwax by the sight of the eyes, and not merely by the intuition of the\nmind, were it not that, in looking from a window at men passing in the\nstreet, I say that I see men, just as I say that I see the wax; and yet\nwhat do I see from this window except hats and cloaks which might cover\nmachines moved by springs? But I judge that they are men, and thus\ncomprehend only by the power of judging, which is in my mind, what I\nthought I saw with my eyes.\"[51]\n\n  [51] M\u00e9ditation Deuxi\u00e8me.--Ed. Simon, Paris, 1860, pp. 76-78.\n\n  In this extract the author attempts to distinguish between what\n  is thought and what is perceived by the senses or imagined. Had\n  he remained within the sphere of the immediately known, one could\n  not have objected to such a distinction. Sameness in sense third\n  is something highly complex, implying that elaboration of mental\n  elements which we call thought. It is quite just to distinguish\n  the notion \"a bit of wax\" from any single sense experience or\n  picture of the imagination. In doing this Descartes was searching\n  for sameness in sense third. But when he leaves the sphere of\n  consciousness, and assumes that what remains the same in the bit\n  of wax is something distinct from the sum total of experiences, as\n  men are distinct from their garments, he falls into error. It is\n  against this that the criticism in the text is directed.\n\nWhat Descartes is feeling for in this is sameness in sense third.\nWhen we use the words \"a bit of wax,\" we do not have in mind a single\nexperience. The wax in a solid and the wax in a liquid state is to us\nthe same wax. I have pointed out what the word same, so used, means.\nIt means that these two experiences are recognized as belonging to the\none group or series of experiences; and the wax, completely known,\nis the sum total of the series. Descartes saw very well that the two\nexperiences under discussion are not strictly identical (the same in\nsense first), and he saw also that they are very unlike. He naturally\nasked, In what then are they the same? or, what is there that is here\nthe same? And, instead of accepting the fact that such a sameness as\nthis cannot be reduced to one of the others, he solved the problem by\npassing from the experiences, the \"hats and cloaks,\" to a \"real\" thing\nunderlying. In other words, to explain the sameness of two experiences\nof a bit of wax, sameness in sense third, he assumed \"real\" wax, which\nis the same with the experiences which represent it only in sense\nseventh. This real wax, or something in it, he supposes to remain the\nsame on two occasions. It is this to which he makes the mind refer when\nit calls the wax the same. But when a man advances statements about\na bit of wax, his information rests ultimately upon his experiences,\nif it be grounded at all. From the experience one infers the \"real\"\nthing, and not _vice versa_. No one knew this better than Descartes,\nwith his fundamental principle of the certainty of consciousness and\nthe uncertainty of what is \"external.\" He got his \"real\" world by\na process of reasoning, and put it in a realm wholly cut off from\ndirect observation. This being the case, one cannot but wonder at\nhis inconsistency in the present instance. Is one to remain in doubt\nwhether a piece of wax felt to be hard, and then melted before the\nfire, is the same, until one has had some means of discovering that the\nsame \"real\" wax is present on the two occasions? How is one to find\nout whether \"real\" wax is ever present unless he infer its presence\nfrom some experience? And how is one to know that the same \"real\" wax\nis present on two occasions unless he infer it from the fact that\nwhat is directly perceived on the two occasions is the same in some\nsense of the word? Whatever sameness there is rests ultimately for its\nevidence upon the experiences. There is nothing else to judge from.\nThe reasoning, which would base the sameness of what is experienced\nupon the sameness of a corresponding \"real\" thing, when the sameness\nof this latter is to be inferred from the former, reminds one of the\nstupid argument, still occasionally met with, which would infer a God\nfrom data of consciousness, and then found a belief in the veracity of\nconsciousness upon the goodness of God. One may believe, if one please,\nthat, when we have two distinct experiences so connected that we call\nthem two perceptions of the same wax, there is in some way connected\nwith them a bit of \"real\" wax which remains in some sense the same. But\none should never suppose that any given experienced wax is proved the\nsame by reference to this. It is judged the same upon observation.\n\nDescartes then was inconsistent with his own principles when he made\nthis jump to a new sphere of being. The sameness of the experienced\nobject is ultimate; the only pertinent question is, what does it mean?\nIt means, as I have said, that the wax hard and the wax soft are\nthe same in sense third. But sameness in sense third admits of wide\ndissimilarities in the experiences it unites into the notion of the one\nobject. Descartes looked for a sameness without these dissimilarities.\nHe would reduce sense third to sense first, or, perhaps, to sense\nsecond. To do this he must go behind the experiences to a \"real\" thing,\nwhich is to remain the same as a proxy for what is evidently variable.\nThis makeshift is only satisfactory to one who overlooks, or allows\nto fall into the background, the plain fact that representative and\nthing represented are two separate things and not to be confused;\nthat is, who confuses sameness in sense first with sameness in sense\nseventh. Descartes distinguished carefully between ideas and external\nthings, but he sometimes overlooked the distinction. \"But what is this\nbit of wax that cannot be comprehended save by the understanding or\nthe mind? It is certainly the same that I see, that I touch, that I\nimagine; it is, in a word, the same that I have always thought it from\nthe beginning.\" How ambiguous! is it the same in sense first or sense\nseventh? The sentence following would indicate sense seventh, but the\nspirit of the whole discussion would argue for sense first. One must\ndelude oneself into believing that one can get at \"real\" wax directly,\nin some way or other, or one cannot think of making it an ultimate\nground of reasoning. Descartes, like so many others, would seem to have\nvibrated between a clear consciousness that ideas and \"real\" things are\ndistinct, belonging to different worlds, and a confused belief that\nthey belong to the one world, and that \"real\" things are open to direct\nobservation.\n\nI shall take still another extract from this author. It contains\nsimilar errors.\n\n\"Now, among these ideas, some appear to me to be inborn, others to\nbe foreign and to come from without, and still others to be made and\ninvented by myself. For, as to the faculty of conceiving that which, in\ngeneral, one calls a thing, or a truth, or a thought, it appears to me\nthat I do not get that from any other source than my own nature; but\nif now I hear a sound, if I see the sun, if I feel the heat, up to the\npresent I have judged that these sensations proceed from things which\nexist without me; and lastly, it seems to me that syrens, hippogriffs,\nand all similar chimeras are fictions and inventions of my mind. But\nperhaps I can persuade myself, that all these ideas belong to the class\nof those that I call foreign, and that come to me from without, or that\nthey are all innate, or else that they are all created by myself; for\nI have not yet clearly discovered their true source. And my chief duty\nhere is to consider, touching those which seem to come from objects\nwithout me, what reasons I have for thinking them like their objects.\n\n\"The first of the reasons is that I seem to be taught to do so by\nnature; and the second, that I perceive that these ideas are not\ndependent upon my will; for often they present themselves to me in\nspite of me, as now, whether I wish it or not, I feel heat, and\nconsequently am persuaded that this sensation or idea of heat is\nproduced in me by something different from me, to wit: by the heat of\nthe fire by which I am sitting. And I cannot see that anything is more\nreasonable than to judge that this external object emits and impresses\nupon me its resemblance rather than anything else.\n\n\"Now I must see if these reasons are sufficiently strong and\nconvincing. When I say that I seem to be taught so by nature, I mean\nmerely by this word nature a certain inclination which leads me to\nbelieve it, and not a natural light which gives me certain knowledge\nthat it is true. But these two ways of speaking are very different, for\nI cannot doubt anything that the natural light shows me to be true,\nas it has just shown me that from the fact of my doubting I may infer\nmy existence; inasmuch as I have not in me any other faculty or power\nof distinguishing the true from the false to teach me that what this\nlight shows me to be true is not true, and in which I may have as much\nconfidence as in it. But as concerns inclinations which also seem to me\nnatural, I have often remarked, when it has been a question of choice\nbetween virtues and vices, that they do not less incline to evil than\nto good; it follows that I have no more reason to follow them when\nthe true and the false are in question. And as for the other reason,\nwhich is that these ideas must come from without, since they are not\ndependent on my will, I do not find it more convincing. For while these\ninclinations of which I have just spoken are in me, notwithstanding\nthat they are not always in harmony with my will, perhaps there is in\nme some faculty or power capable of producing these ideas without the\naid of external things, although it is yet unknown to me; as indeed it\nhas always seemed to me up to this time that when I sleep they are thus\nformed in me without the aid of the objects they represent. Finally,\neven should I admit that they are caused by these objects, it does not\nnecessarily follow that they must be like them. On the contrary, I have\noften remarked in many instances, that there is a great difference\nbetween an object and its idea: as, for example, I find in me two very\ndifferent ideas of the sun; the one has its source in the senses, and\nshould be placed in the class of those which I have said above come\nfrom without, and from this it seems to me very small; the other has it\norigin in astronomical reasonings, that is to say, in certain notions\nwhich are inborn, or else formed in some way or other by myself, and\nfrom this it seems to me many times greater than the whole earth.\nSurely, these two ideas which I have of the sun cannot both be like\nthe same sun; and reason convinces me that the one which is derived\ndirectly from its appearance is the one which is most unlike it. All\nof which proves to me that, up to this hour, it has not been by a sure\nand premeditated judgment, but merely by a blind and rash impulse,\nthat I have been led to believe that there are things without me, and\ndifferent from my being, which, by the organs of my senses, or by\nwhatever other means, convey to me their ideas or images, and impress\nupon me their resemblances.\"[52]\n\n  [52] M\u00e9ditation Troisi\u00e8me, pp. 83-85.\n\nFrom the earlier portions of this extract one may see how clearly\nDescartes distinguished between the idea, or the thing immediately\nknown, and the external thing which he assumed as corresponding to the\nidea; from the latter part one may see how he sometimes confounded\nthem. He finds that he may doubt whether ideas have any external\ncorrelatives; and, granting that they have, whether the two resemble\neach other at all. All this would imply that \"external\" things are\ncompletely cut off from observation. And yet he states with _na\u00efvet\u00e9_\nthat he has \"often remarked in many instances that there is a great\ndifference between an object and its idea.\" Now, if this can really be\nremarked in many instances, the doubt as to the existence of objects\nwould seem to be groundless. How can it be remarked? On this point\nDescartes is silent. He has evidently fallen back upon the popular\nnotion that under favorable circumstances one can get a look at a\n\"real\" thing, just as it is. The \"reason\" which convinces him that\nthe astronomer's notion of the sun is the true notion is nothing but\nthis. It could certainly not be deduced from his only argument for the\nexistence of external things--the veracity of God. How does he know,\nthat in giving us several different ideas of the sun, God has chosen\nto have this one only resemble it? It is a pure assumption. Reason is\nof service when one has something to go upon; but in the absence of\npremises it will not carry one far. This assumption is an illustration\nof what I had occasion to remark upon in criticizing Pyrrho; of the\nfact that, from the series of possible perceptions which we group\ntogether as one object, we are apt to select one, to us for some reason\nthe most satisfactory one, and to regard it as more truly representing\nthe object than the others. Descartes has followed this impulse, and\nmade this perception the best representative of the \"real\" object. Had\nhe always distinguished sameness in sense first from sameness in sense\nseventh, he would have seen how purely gratuitous is his assumption.\n\nThe statement, too, that two different ideas of the sun cannot both\nresemble the same sun, shows how little he comprehended what it meant\nby the word same when used in the third sense. If by the sun we mean a\nwhole series of possible perceptions, perhaps quite unlike each other,\nbut all united and related in certain ways, there is nothing to prevent\nvery dissimilar things from being like the same sun. Each of them need\nonly resemble a single link in the series. By the words \"the same sun\"\nDescartes meant the same in sense first, but this sins against the\nproper meaning of the term. The difficulty is self-created.\n\nDescartes' sun reminds me of Berkeley's moon. This latter writer\nclearly perceived that there may be multiplicity and diversity where\none attributes sameness in sense third. Note the following:\n\n\"But for a fuller explication of this point, and to show that the\nimmediate objects of sight are not so much as the ideas or resemblances\nof things placed at a distance, it is requisite that we look nearer\ninto the matter, and carefully observe what is meant in common\ndiscourse when one says that which he sees is at a distance from him.\nSuppose, for example, that looking at the moon I should say it were\nfifty or sixty semidiameters of the earth distant from me. Let us see\nwhat moon this is spoken of. It is plain it cannot be the visible\nmoon, or anything like the visible moon, or that I see--which is only\na round, luminous plain, of about thirty visible points in diameter.\nFor, in case I am carried from the place where I stand directly toward\nthe moon, it is manifest the object varies still as I go on; and,\nby the time that I am advanced fifty or sixty semidiameters of the\nearth, I shall be so far from being near a small, round, luminous flat\nthat I shall perceive nothing like it--this object having long since\ndisappeared, and, if I would recover it, it must be by going back to\nthe earth from whence I set out.\"[53]\n\n  [53] \"Essay towards a New Theory of Vision.\" Sec. 44. Works: ed.\n  Fraser. Oxford 1871. Vol. I, p. 53.\n\nSo much for dissimilar experiences of the same object. And Berkeley is\nnot impelled to assume an external something to explain how the object\ncan be the same under the circumstances. The case, he finds, stands\nthus:\n\n\"Having of a long time experienced certain ideas perceivable by\ntouch--as distance, tangible figure, and solidity--to have been\nconnected with certain ideas of sight, I do, upon perceiving these\nideas of sight, forthwith conclude what tangible ideas are, by the\nwonted ordinary course of nature, like to follow. Looking at an object,\nI perceive a certain visible figure and color, with some degree of\nfaintness and other circumstances, which, from what I have formerly\nobserved, determine me to think that if I advance forward so many\npaces, miles, etc., I shall be affected with such and such ideas of\ntouch.\"[54]\n\n  [54] _Ibid._, \u00a7 45.\n\nAnd need one ask a clearer illustration of sameness in sense third than\nthe case of the coach, which occurs in the following section:\n\n\"Sitting in my study I hear a coach drive along the street; I look\nthrough the casement and see it; I walk out and enter into it. Thus,\ncommon speech would incline one to think I heard, saw, and touched the\nsame thing, to wit, the coach. It is, nevertheless, certain the ideas\nintromitted by each sense are widely different and distinct from each\nother; but, having been observed constantly to go together, they are\nspoken of as one and the same thing.\"\n\n\nSEC. 30. It would be easy to select from Spinoza, that master of\nreasonings apparently very exact but really very loose, many good\ninstances of confused samenesses. I shall confine myself to a single\none, his argument to prove that every substance is necessarily\ninfinite. It is the eighth proposition in Part I of the Ethics.\n\n\"There cannot be more than one substance with the same attribute, and\nthis exists of its own nature. It belongs, then, to its nature to exist\neither as finite or as infinite. But it cannot be finite, for then it\nwould have to be limited by another of the same kind, which would also\nnecessarily exist; there would then be two substances with the same\nattribute, which is absurd. It is, therefore, infinite.\"[55]\n\n  [55] _Substantia unius attributi non nisi unica existit, et ad\n  ipsius naturam pertinet existere. Erit ergo de ipsius natura vel\n  finita vel infinita existere. At non finita. Nam deberet terminari\n  ab alia eiusdem natur\u00e6, qu\u00e6 etiam necessario deberet existere;\n  adeoque darentur du\u00e6 substanti\u00e6 eiusdem attributi, quod est\n  absurdum. Existit ergo infinita_; q. e. d.--_Ethices, Pars prima;\n  VIII. Omnis substantia est necessario infinita._ Leipzig, 1875,\n  p. 84.\n\nAmong its defects this argument includes a confusion of sameness in\nsense fourth with sameness in sense first. Attribute Spinoza has\ndefined as that which is conceived as the essence of substance. Mode is\na modification of substance. Two substances, he has argued, cannot be\ndistinguished from each other by their modifications, for substance is\nprior to its modifications, and we may set these aside and consider it\nas it is in itself. Substances cannot then, be distinguished except by\ntheir attributes; and if the attribute be the same, how can we say that\nthere are two substances? There cannot, consequently, be two substances\nwith the same attribute.\n\nBut, the argument continues, since there cannot be two substances\nwith the same attribute, every substance must be infinite; for, to\nbe finite, a thing must be limited by something: and nothing can be\nlimited except by a thing of the same kind (for example, a material\nthing cannot be limited by a thought). But if a thing be limited\nby another thing of the same kind, the thing limited and the thing\nlimiting have the same attribute. It follows that they are not two\nthings, but one. The thing in question is not limited but infinite.\n\nIn criticizing this, I may call attention, in passing, to the highly\ndisputable and gratuitously assumed premise, that, to be finite, a\nthing must be limited by _something_. If this be denied, the ground\nof the reasoning is removed; while, if it be granted, no argument is\nneeded to prove that something is infinite, for one has only said\nin other words that all limits must be limits within something. The\nquestion is begged at once. With this, however, I am not concerned.\nWhat interests me is this: The argument assumes a limited thing and\na something beyond it, and then asserts that they are one. But two\nthings of the same kind in different places, or marked as different\nby distinctions of any sort, are readily distinguished as two. To\ncome to the concrete, extension conceived as on this side of a point\nand extension conceived as beyond the point are not extension simply,\nbut \"this\" extension and \"that\" extension. They are the same only\nin sense fourth, not in sense first. We have here not merely the\nattribute extension, but the further elements \"this\" and \"that.\" The\nconclusion, then, that what we started out with is infinite, is wholly\nunwarranted. It is not this that is infinite, but this with something\nelse which is to some degree like it, although not wholly so. That is\nto say, the thing assumed as finite can only be proved to be infinite\nby confounding two samenesses. The thing proved to be infinite is a\nnew object including it and what it is assumed to presuppose. If it be\nnot permissible to make this distinction between the object assumed as\nfinite, for the sake of the argument, and the object which is proved\nto be infinite, it is also not permissible to assert that an object\nto be finite \"would have to be limited by another of the same kind.\"\nIf the two are one, these words are meaningless. If they are not\none, one cannot conclude from the argument that every substance is\nnecessarily infinite, but only that something is necessarily infinite,\na conclusion already given in the single premise that what is limited\nmust be limited by something of the same kind. As a matter of fact,\nSpinoza retains in his argument not only the attribute, but the mode,\nthe \"this\" and the \"beyond this;\" and then he overlooks the mode and\nconsiders merely the attribute, which gives him strict identity. This\nprocedure we have met before in the dispute concerning universals.\n\n\nSEC. 31. In the former part of my monograph I have mentioned Locke's\nconfusion of sameness in sense seventh with sameness in sense first.\nI shall now quote a few sections from the \"Essay concerning Human\nUnderstanding\" to show how significant his error is, and to what an\nextent it is responsible for his position regarding ideas, things, and\nsubstance. My extracts are from the eleventh chapter of the fourth\nbook, entitled \"Of our Knowledge of the Existence of Other Things.\"\nLocke argues as follows:[56]\n\n  [56] Locke's Essays, Philadelphia, 1846, p. 415, _et seq._\n\n\"The knowledge of our own being we have by intuition. The existence of\na God reason clearly makes known to us, as has been shown.\n\n\"The knowledge of the existence of any other thing we can have only by\nsensation: for there being no necessary connection of real existence\nwith any idea a man hath in his memory, nor of any other existence but\nthat of God, with the existence of any particular man; no particular\nman can know the existence of any other being, but only when by actual\noperating upon him it makes itself perceived by him. For the having\nthe idea of anything in our mind no more proves the existence of that\nthing, than the picture of a man evidences his being in the world, or\nthe visions of a dream make thereby a true history.\n\n\"It is therefore the actual receiving of ideas from without, that gives\nus notice of the existence of other things, and makes us know that\nsomething doth exist at that time without us, which causes that idea\nin us, though perhaps we neither know nor consider how it does it:\nfor it takes not from the certainty of our senses, and the ideas we\nreceive by them, that we know not the manner wherein they are produced,\n_v. g._, whilst I write this I have, by the paper affecting my eyes,\nthat idea produced in my mind which, whatever object causes, I call\nwhite; by which I know that that quality or accident (_i. e._, whose\nappearance before my eyes always causes that idea) doth really exist,\nand hath a being without me. And of this, the greatest assurance I can\npossibly have, and to which my faculties can attain, is the testimony\nof my eyes, which are the proper and sole judges of this thing, whose\ntestimony I have reason to rely on as so certain, that I can no more\ndoubt, whilst I write this, that I see white and black, and that\nsomething really exists that causes that sensation in me, than that I\nwrite or move my hand: which is a certainty as great as human nature\nis capable of, concerning the existence of anything but a man's self\nalone, and of God.\n\n\"The notice we have by our senses of the existing of things without us,\nthough it be not altogether so certain as our intuitive knowledge, or\nthe deductions of our reason, employed about the clear abstract ideas\nof our own minds; yet it is an assurance that deserves the name of\nknowledge. If we persuade ourselves that our faculties act and inform\nus right, concerning the existence of those objects that affect them,\nit cannot pass for an ill-grounded confidence: for I think nobody can,\nin earnest, be so sceptical as to be uncertain of the existence of\nthose things which he sees and feels. At least, he that can doubt so\nfar (whatever he may have with his own thoughts) will never have any\ncontroversy with me; since he can never be sure I say anything contrary\nto his own opinion. As to myself, I think God has given me assurance\nenough of the existence of things without me; since by their different\napplication I can produce in myself both pleasure and pain, which\nis one great concernment of my present state. This is certain, the\nconfidence that our faculties do not herein deceive us is the greatest\nassurance we are capable of, concerning the existence of material\nbeings. For we cannot act anything but by our faculties; nor talk of\nknowledge itself, but by the helps of those faculties which are fitted\nto apprehend even what knowledge is. But besides the assurance we have\nfrom our senses themselves, that they do not err in the information\nthey give us, of the existence of things without us, when they are\naffected by them, we are farther confirmed in this assurance by other\nconcurrent reasons.\n\n\"First, it is plain those perceptions are produced in us by exterior\ncauses affecting our senses: because those that want the organs of any\nsense never can have the ideas belonging to that sense produced in\ntheir minds. This is too evident to be doubted: and therefore we cannot\nbut be assured that they come in by the organs of that sense, and no\nother way. The organs themselves, it is plain, do not produce them; for\nthen the eyes of a man in the dark would produce colors, and his nose\nsmell roses in the winter: but we see nobody gets the relish of a pine\napple till he goes to the Indies, where it is, and tastes it.\n\n\"Secondly, because sometimes I find that I cannot avoid the having\nthose ideas produced in my mind. For though when my eyes are shut,\nor windows fast, I can at pleasure recall to my mind the ideas of\nlight, or the sun, which former sensations had lodged in my memory;\nso I can at pleasure lay by that idea, and take into my view that of\nthe smell of a rose, or taste of sugar. But if I turn my eyes at noon\ntowards the sun, I cannot avoid the ideas which the light, or sun,\nthen produces in me. So that there is a manifest difference between\nthe ideas laid up in my memory (over which, if they were there only,\nI should have constantly the same power to dispose of them, and lay\nthem by at pleasure), and those which force themselves upon me, and\nI cannot avoid having. And therefore it must needs be some exterior\ncause, and the brisk acting of some objects without me, whose efficacy\nI cannot resist, that produces those ideas in my mind, whether I will\nor no. Besides, there is nobody who doth not perceive the difference\nin himself between contemplating the sun, as he hath the idea of it in\nhis memory, and actually looking upon it; of which two his perception\nis so distinct, that few of his ideas are more distinguishable one from\nanother. And therefore, he hath certain knowledge, that they are not\nboth memory, or the actions of his mind, and fancies only within him;\nbut that actual seeing hath a cause without.\n\n\"Thirdly, add to this, that many of those ideas are produced in us\nwith pain, which afterward we remember without the least offense. Thus\nthe pain of heat or cold, when the idea of it is revived in our minds,\ngives us no disturbance; which, when felt, was very troublesome, and\nis again when actually repeated; which is occasioned by the disorder\nthe external object causes in our bodies when applied to it. And we\nremember the pains of hunger, thirst, or the headache, without any\npain at all; which would either never disturb us, or else constantly\ndo it, as often as we thought of it, were there nothing more but ideas\nfloating in our minds, and appearances entertaining our fancies,\nwithout the real existence of things affecting us from abroad. The\nsame may be said of pleasure accompanying several actual sensations,\nand though mathematical demonstrations depend not upon sense, yet\nthe examining them by diagrams gives great credit to the evidence of\nour sight, and seems to give it a certainty approaching to that of\ndemonstration itself. For it would be very strange that a man should\nallow it for an undeniable truth, that two angles of a figure, which he\nmeasures by lines and angles of a diagram, should be bigger one than\nthe other; and yet doubt of the existence of those lines and angles,\nwhich by looking on he makes use of to measure that by.\n\n\"Fourthly, our senses in many cases bear witness to the truth of each\nother's report, concerning the existence of sensible things without us.\nHe that sees a fire may, if he doubt whether it be anything more than\na bare fancy, feel it too; and be convinced by putting his hand in it:\nwhich certainly could never be put into such exquisite pain by a bare\nidea or phantom, unless that the pain, be a fancy too, which yet he\ncannot, when the burn is well, by raising the idea of it, bring upon\nhimself again.\n\n\"Thus I see, whilst I write this, I can change the appearance of the\npaper: and by designing the letters tell beforehand what new idea it\nshall exhibit the very next moment, by barely drawing my pen over it:\nwhich will neither appear (let me fancy as much as I will), if my hands\nstand still; or though I move my pen, if my eyes be shut: nor, when\nthose characters are once made on the paper, can I choose afterward but\nsee them as they are: that is, have the ideas of such letters as I have\nmade. Whence it is manifest, that they are not barely the sport and\nplay of my own imagination, when I find that the characters that were\nmade at the pleasure of my own thought, do not obey them; nor yet cease\nto be, whenever I shall fancy it; but continue to affect the senses\nconstantly and regularly, according to the figures I made them. To\nwhich if we will add, that the sight of those shall, from another man,\ndraw such sounds as I beforehand design they shall stand for; there\nwill be little reason left to doubt that those words I write do really\nexist without me, when they cause a long series of regular sounds to\naffect my ears, which could not be the effect of my imagination, nor\ncould my memory retain them in that order.\"\n\nThis is quite a long citation, but I have given it at length because\nit may stand as the type of by far the greater part of the objections\nurged against Idealism, and because a better instance of the confusion\nof two samenesses could scarcely be desired. Notice how constantly it\nis assumed that the thing given in perception is the \"real\" thing, a\nthing which is, nevertheless, characterized as distinct from, and the\ncause of, the idea.\n\nAt the outset Locke distinguishes well enough between the idea and the\n\"external\" thing. The having the idea of any thing in the mind, he\ndeclares, no more proves the existence of that thing than the picture\nof a man evidences his being in the world. It is only the receiving\nof ideas from without that gives us notice of things as causes of the\nideas. It would seem quite fair here to ask how we know that some ideas\ncome from without? Of course, if the realm of the \"without\" were open\nto inspection, the question could be answered at once. But it is not\nopen to inspection--certainly not to a consistent Lockian. How, then,\nmay I distinguish ideas coming from without from other ideas? No ideas\nare perceived until they are what Locke would call \"within.\"\n\nThe appeal to the testimony of the eyes needs examination. To what eyes\ndoes one appeal? The immediately known or idea-eyes, or the \"external\"\norgans whose existence is the matter of dispute? Surely not to the\nlast, for it is only as a result of the argument that we may assume\nthese at all. And what hand is it so certain that I move in writing?\nThe complex of ideas immediately known, or the something beyond, whose\nexistence is to be established? If it be the latter, all discussion is\nunnecessary. If, on the other hand, the eyes and the hand concerned are\nideas, it is not clear how the appeal to them can be of any service.\nDoes a sense give anything but sensations? And if the very sense organ\nas immediately known be a group of sensations, how can the testimony of\na sense land one in a world beyond that of sensations? And the argument\nthat God has given me assurance of the existence of things without\nme, since by applying them to myself I can produce in myself pain and\npleasure, presupposes that I can apply such things to myself and know\nthat I am doing so. If this be the fact, it is trifling to discuss\nwhether things I move to and fro exist. If, however, it is still to be\nproved that there are such things, and that they are moved to and fro,\nthe argument is wholly baseless. Locke here makes appeal to the common\nexperience that certain objects applied to the body cause pleasure,\nand certain others pain; a fact which no reasonable man would think of\ndenying or questioning, as it is matter of daily observation. But in\nsuch experiences, all that is immediately evident is that an object\nimmediately perceived (Locke's idea) is applied to another object\nimmediately perceived (idea) with a resulting (idea) pain. Whether or\nnot certain duplicates of the things immediately known are brought\ninto a peculiar conjunction at the same time is wholly problematic,\nand would seem to remain so until some evidence be advanced of the\nexistence of such duplicates. This argument on the part of our author\nshows most clearly that for the time being he lost the distinction\nbetween ideas and \"real\" things. They are the same in sense seventh; he\nassumed them to be the same in sense first. He falls into this error\nagain and again.\n\nThe general appeal to the testimony of the senses is followed by\nfour special arguments. According to the first of these, it is plain\nthat perceptions are produced in us by exterior causes affecting our\nsenses, \"because those that want the organs of any sense never can have\nthe ideas belonging to that sense produced in their minds.\" This is\nsupposed to prove that they come in by the organs of that sense, and in\nno other way. But here again one may ask, What is meant by the organs\nof any sense? If the \"real\" external organ be meant, one may object\nthat its existence has not yet been proved. If the organ immediately\nknown be meant, one has only called attention to the fact that certain\nideas are a _sine qua non_ to the existence of certain other ideas. How\nthis tends to prove the existence of something distinct from ideas is\nnot apparent. Locke's impulse in this argument finds its source in our\ncommon experience that bodily organs immediately perceived are proved\nby observation to be prerequisites to the experiencing of ideas. We see\na given object in a certain relation to a normal human body, and we\ninfer an idea of the object connected with that body. We say the man\nhas an idea of the object, and can only infer the object itself. We\nconnect the idea with some particular part of his body, and regard this\nas the medium through which he gains the idea. All this is reasonable\nenough. It is well to remember, however, that in all this the \"real\"\nobject is not observed to play any part. The object which I certainly\nsee in relation to the body which I certainly see is what Locke would\ncall an idea. The man's body is an idea. The idea which I assume the\nman to have is to me, if I remain within the sphere of the observable,\nan idea of the (idea) object I see. If I am to get any \"real\" object\nat all it is not by reference to observation or experience. If I am to\nget it by inference, some ground must be furnished for inference. Again\nLocke has confounded the observable with the \"real.\" It is only on this\nground that the appeal to the sense organ has any force.\n\nThe second and the third arguments busy themselves to show that there\nare unmistakable differences between ideas which have their origin\nin the \"brisk acting\" of objects without and ideas of memory or\nimagination. The two classes are shown to be distinct, and it is very\nproperly held that ideas of different kinds should not be confounded.\nBut the statement, that ideas may be divided into two classes, is a\nvery different one from the statement that the two classes differ in\nthat one has external correlates and the other has not. One may admit\nall the distinctions which Locke makes in the field of ideas; and,\nit being once proved that such distinctions imply a world of \"real\"\nthings in relation to certain ideas, may grant very readily that these\nideas have corresponding to them \"real\" things, or that ideas caused\nby \"real\" things differ by such and such marks from other ideas. But,\nuntil it be proved that the marks in question do give a right to infer\n\"real\" things, it should not be assumed that any given class of ideas\nis caused by \"real\" things. What is to be discovered is assumed. And it\nis assumed here, as above, because Locke could not keep distinct the\ntwo classes of things. He is capable of saying, \"But if I turn my eyes\nat noon towards the sun, I cannot avoid the ideas which the light, or\nsun, then produces in me,\" when the whole dispute is over the question\nwhether there be a \"real\" sun toward which \"real\" eyes may be turned.\nHow does he know that he is turning his eyes toward the sun? Does he\nnot see it up there? Is he not \"actually looking upon it?\" His error is\ntoo plain to overlook. But if one could doubt his confusion of the two\nsuns, the apparent and the \"real,\" his illustration from the diagrams\nused in mathematical demonstration would lay the doubt once for all.\n\"Real\" lines exist, \"for it would be very strange that a man should\nallow it for an undeniable truth, that two angles of a figure, which he\nmeasures by lines and angles of a diagram, should be bigger one than\nthe other; and yet doubt of the existence of those lines and angles,\nwhich by looking on he makes use of to measure that by.\" The English is\nnot as bad as the reasoning.\n\nThe fourth argument is derived from the fact that one sense supports\nthe testimony of another. \"He that sees a fire may, if he doubt whether\nit be anything more than a bare fancy, feel it too.\" A bare fancy,\nLocke is sure, would not cause such acute pain. This comes back to the\nsecond and third arguments and may be criticized in the same way. If\none could refer to a single observation of the fact that \"real\" things\ndo not accompany ideas of the fancy and that they do accompany ideas\nof a different class, the argument would be unobjectionable. Wanting\nthis observation, or something to take its place, nothing is proved.\nAnd as to the senses helping each other to \"real\" things, if each sense\nonly gives the idea appropriate to it, it is not easy to see how two\ntogether prove more than one alone. In this section, too, Locke is\nassuming that \"real\" things belong to the world of things immediately\nperceived. He can, he says, make what characters he pleases on the\npaper before him, but once having made them, cannot choose but see\nthem as they are. \"Whence it is manifest, that they are not barely the\nsport and play of my own imagination, when I find that the characters\nthat were made at the pleasure of my own thought, do not obey them; nor\nyet cease to be, whenever I shall fancy it; but continue to affect the\nsenses constantly and regularly, according to the figures I made them.\"\nThat is, the ideas which he concludes not to be ideas of imagination\nare the things \"which continue to affect the senses,\" or the \"real\"\nthings. There is little wonder that this author believed in \"real\"\nthings.\n\n\nSEC. 32. Excellent work has been done by Berkeley in distinguishing\nsamenesses. His treatment of sameness in sense third I have already\nquoted. His discussion of the infinite divisibility of finite\nlines,[57] a matter of which I shall speak more fully later, again\nbrings out sense third. Almost his whole philosophy consists in the\nendeavor to keep clearly in mind the significance of sense seventh,\nand to develop what it implies. On the other hand, he has fallen into\nthe error of confusing sense first and sense sixth, and of using this\nconfusion to silence an objection to his doctrine.\n\n  [57] \"A Treatise Concerning the Principles of Human Knowledge,\"\n  \u00a7\u00a7 123-132. Ed. Fraser, Vol. I, pp. 220-225.\n\nHe takes up in the \"Principles,\" for the purpose of refuting it, the\nobjection that his doctrine makes things every moment annihilated\nand created anew.[58] This, he argues, \"will not be found reasonably\ncharged on the principles we have premised, so as in truth to make\nany objection at all against our notions. For, though we hold indeed\nthe objects of sense to be nothing else but ideas which cannot exist\nunperceived; yet we may not hence conclude they have no existence\nexcept only while they are perceived by us, since there may be some\nother spirit that perceives them though we do not. Wherever bodies are\nsaid to have no existence without the mind, I would not be understood\nto mean this or that particular mind, but all minds whatsoever. It does\nnot therefore follow from the foregoing principles that bodies are\nannihilated and created every moment, or exist not at all during the\nintervals between our perception of them.\"\n\n  [58] \u00a7\u00a7 45-48, pp. 178-180.\n\nTo the reader of Mill it is clear enough that Berkeley is not content\nto assume potential existence as an integral part of the life history\nof an object. It seems odd that he should not do so, as he has himself\npointed out the double sense of the word exist.[59] However, he demands\nactual existence. Any lapse in the actual existence of the immediate\nobject seems to him a destruction of the object. He has the common\nfeeling that it is contrary to nature that things should be destroyed\nand created from moment to moment. They must exist continuously. They\nevidently do not actually exist continuously in the one mind. So he\nassumes that, during the periods of their absence from one mind, they\nmust exist in another: otherwise they could not be said to exist at all.\n\n  [59] \"Principles,\" \u00a73, p. 157.\n\nOf course, all this assumes that the objects in one mind are\nidentically (sense first) the objects in another. If they be recognized\nas two distinct things, belonging to different worlds--worlds so\ndifferent that what is in one can enter the other only through its\nrepresentative--the whole argument is seen to be fallacious. One can\nno more make a consistent whole of elements taken from two different\nconsciousnesses, than one can piece out a grief with a smell. The\nattempt is the result of overlooking the duality implied in sameness in\nsense sixth.\n\n\nSEC. 33. There is a clear and forcible passage in John Stuart Mill's\n\"System of Logic,\" in which he distinguishes certain samenesses from\ncertain others. It is to be regretted that he dismissed the subject\nwith so slight an examination, for it could not but have gained\nby a careful analysis at the hands of this keen man. I quote more\nparticularly to bring out what Mill has to say about sameness in sense\nsecond.\n\n\"While speaking of resemblance, it is necessary to take notice of an\nambiguity of language, against which scarcely any one is sufficiently\non his guard. Resemblance, when it exists in the highest degree of all,\namounting to undistinguishableness, is often called identity, and the\ntwo similar things are said to be the same. I say often, not always;\nfor we do not say that two visible objects, two persons, for instance,\nare the same, because they are so much alike that one might be mistaken\nfor the other: but we constantly use this mode of expression when\nspeaking of feelings; as when I say that the sight of any object gives\nme the _same_ sensation or emotion to-day that it did yesterday, or\nthe _same_ which it gives to some other person. This is evidently an\nincorrect application of the word _same_; for the feeling which I had\nyesterday is gone, never to return; what I have to-day is another\nfeeling, exactly like the former, perhaps, but distinct from it; and it\nis evident that two different persons cannot be experiencing the same\nfeeling, in the sense in which we say that they are both sitting at the\nsame table. By a similar ambiguity we say, that two persons are ill of\nthe _same_ disease; that two persons hold the _same_ office; not in\nthe sense in which we say that they are engaged in the same adventure,\nor sailing in the same ship, but in the sense that they fill offices\nexactly similar, though, perhaps, in distant places. Great confusion of\nideas is often produced, and many fallacies engendered, in otherwise\nenlightened understandings, by not being sufficiently alive to the fact\n(in itself not always to be avoided), that they use the same name to\nexpress ideas so different as those of identity and undistinguishable\nresemblance.\"[60]\n\n  [60] \"A System of Logic,\" Book I, Chap. III, \u00a7 11, N. Y., 1882,\n  p. 62.\n\nIt will be seen that Mill here draws a line between sameness in sense\nfirst and the samenesses in which there is an element of duality.\nHe also draws attention to the fact--a fact to which I have already\nreferred--that successive mental elements, considered in themselves,\nare more likely to be confounded than material things, though these\nlast may be quite as closely similar. Language shows how men overlook\nthe duality of two similar feelings which differ only in time. They\nmay speak of two similar objects as the same, as they frequently do,\nand yet they will not usually lose the sense of their twoness. They\nsay _these_ objects are the same. But when they compare a feeling\nexperienced to-day with one experienced yesterday, they say _this_ is\nthe same feeling I had yesterday. There is nothing in the language used\nto indicate duality at all.\n\nI have said that, in the extract given, a line is drawn between\nsamenesses which imply duality and the sameness which does not; and\nyet such illustrations are used to represent the latter as a man, a\ntable, and a ship--objects which are the same in sense third as well\nas in sense first, and which consequently imply duality, in some\nsense of the word. But, if one is not considering single members of\nthe chain of experiences which, taken together, we call a man, but is\nconsidering the whole group as a unit, this difficulty disappears.\nThis is evidently what Mill has in mind, and he cannot be taxed with\ninconsistency. One may, however, object to the statement that it is an\nimproper use of the word same to speak of things merely similar as the\nsame. The word has many meanings, and we can hardly say that any one\nof them is illegitimate. It is merely illegitimate to confound them.\nAnd one should not take quite literally the description of resemblance\nin the highest degree as \"amounting to undistinguishableness.\" Strict\nundistinguishableness removes all duality, and consequently makes\nimpossible what we call resemblance or similarity. To be similar,\nthings must be distinguished as two. Finally, one may object to a\ntreatment of samenesses which merely groups them into two classes,\nwhen there are at least seven kinds that should, in the interests of\nclear thinking, be kept separate. It is only by carefully marking such\ndistinctions that fallacious reasonings are to be avoided. As, however,\nthis discussion of samenesses is merely a side issue where it occurs in\nthe Logic, it would perhaps be unjust to blame Mill for not going into\nit more fully.\n\n\nSEC. 34. At this point I leave the realms of the dead and emerge into\nthe land of the living. The errors that I have been criticizing still\nlive, and it would not be difficult to glean a goodly number of them\nfrom the authors of our day. I shall be moderate, and will content\nmyself with one or two representative instances.\n\nIt would be surprising if as loose and incautious a reasoner as Mr.\nHerbert Spencer did not furnish some examples of confused samenesses.\nTo certain of his errors in this direction I have briefly referred in\nthe earlier part of my monograph. Here I shall treat of him a little\nmore at length, though even here it is impossible to do justice to the\nsubject, as that would involve my quoting and commenting upon at least\na large part of the first division of the \"First Principles.\" I shall\ntake only the conclusion of the argument by which he establishes the\nexistence of his \"Unknowable,\" or \"Inscrutable Power,\" or \"Ultimate\nCause,\" or \"Unseen Reality,\" or \"Absolute.\" This contains two\nconfusions of no little significance. Mr. Spencer writes:\n\n\"Hence our firm belief in objective reality--a belief which\nmetaphysical criticisms cannot for a moment shake. When we are taught\nthat a piece of matter, regarded by us as existing externally, cannot\nbe really known, but that we can know only certain impressions produced\non us, we are yet, by the relativity of our thought, compelled to\nthink of these in relation to a positive cause--the notion of a real\nexistence which generated these impressions becomes nascent. If it be\nproved to us that every notion of a real existence which we can frame\nis utterly inconsistent with itself--that matter, however conceived\nby us, cannot be matter as it actually is, our conception, though\ntransfigured, is not destroyed: there remains the sense of reality,\ndissociated as far as possible from those special forms under which\nit was before represented in thought. Though Philosophy condemns\nsuccessively each attempted conception of the Absolute--though it\nproves to us that the Absolute is not this, nor that, nor that--though\nin obedience to it we negative, one after another, each idea as it\narises; yet, as we cannot expel the entire contents of consciousness,\nthere ever remains behind an element which passes into new shapes. The\ncontinual negation of each particular form and limit, simply results in\nthe more or less complete abstraction of all forms and limits; and so\nends in an indefinite consciousness of the unformed and unlimited.\n\n\"And here we come face to face with the ultimate difficulty--How can\nthere possibly be constituted a consciousness of the unformed and\nunlimited, when, by its very nature, consciousness is possible only\nunder forms and limits? If every consciousness of existence is a\nconsciousness of existence as conditioned, then how, after the negation\nof conditions, can there be any residuum? Though not directly withdrawn\nby the withdrawal of its conditions, must not the raw material of\nconsciousness be withdrawn by implication? Must it not vanish when the\nconditions of its existence vanish? That there must be a solution of\nthis difficulty is manifest; since even those who would put it, do,\nas already shown, admit that we have some such consciousness; and the\nsolution appears to be that above shadowed forth. Such consciousness\nis not, and cannot be, constituted by any single mental act; but is\nthe product of many mental acts. In each concept there is an element\nwhich persists. It is alike impossible for this element to be absent\nfrom consciousness, and for it to be present in consciousness alone:\neither alternative involves unconsciousness--the one from the want of\nthe substance; the other from the want of the form. But the persistence\nof this element under successive conditions, _necessitates_ a sense of\nit as distinguished from the conditions, and independent of them. The\nsense of a something that is conditioned in every thought, cannot be\ngot rid of, because the something cannot be got rid of. How then must\nthe sense of this something be constituted? Evidently by combining\nsuccessive concepts deprived of their limits and conditions. We form\nthis indefinite thought, as we form many of our definite thoughts, by\nthe coalescence of a series of thoughts. Let me illustrate this: A\nlarge complex object, having attributes too numerous to be represented\nat once, is yet tolerably well conceived by the union of several\nrepresentations, each standing for part of its attributes. On thinking\nof a piano, there first rises in imagination its visual appearance, to\nwhich are instantly added (though by separate mental acts) the ideas\nof its remote side and of its solid substance. A complete conception,\nhowever, involves the strings, the hammers, the dampers, the pedals;\nand while successively adding these to the conception, the attributes\nfirst thought of lapse more or less completely out of consciousness.\nNevertheless, the whole group constitutes a representation of the\npiano. Now as in this case we form a definite concept of a special\nexistence, by imposing limits and conditions in successive acts; so,\nin the converse case, by taking away the limits and conditions in\nsuccessive acts, we form an indefinite notion of general existence.\nBy fusing a series of states of consciousness, in each of which, as\nit arises, the limitations and conditions are abolished, there is\nproduced a consciousness of something unconditioned. To speak more\nrigorously:--this consciousness is not the abstract of any one group\nof thoughts, ideas, or conceptions; but it is the abstract of _all_\nthoughts, ideas, or conceptions. That which is common to them all,\nand cannot be got rid of, is what we predicate by the word existence.\nDissociated as this becomes from each of its modes by the perpetual\nchange of those modes, it remains as an indefinite consciousness\nof something constant under all modes--of being apart from its\nappearances. The distinction we feel between special and general\nexistence, is the distinction between that which is changeable in us,\nand that which is unchangeable. The contrast between the Absolute and\nthe Relative in our minds, is really the contrast between that mental\nelement which exists absolutely, and those which exist relatively.\n\n\"By its very nature, therefore, this ultimate mental element is at\nonce necessarily indefinite and necessarily indestructible. Our\nconsciousness of the unconditioned being literally the unconditioned\nconsciousness, or raw material of thought to which in thinking we give\ndefinite forms, it follows that an ever-present sense of real existence\nis the very basis of our intelligence. As we can in successive mental\nacts get rid of all particular conditions and replace them by others,\nbut cannot get rid of that undifferentiated substance of consciousness\nwhich is conditioned anew in every thought; there ever remains with\nus a sense of that which exists persistently and independently of\nconditions. At the same time that by the laws of thought we are\nrigorously prevented from forming a conception of absolute existence;\nwe are by the laws of thought equally prevented from ridding ourselves\nof the consciousness of absolute existence: this consciousness being,\nas we here see, the obverse of our self-consciousness. And since the\nonly possible measure of relative validity among our beliefs, is the\ndegree of their persistence in opposition to the efforts made to change\nthem, it follows that this which persists at all times, under all\ncircumstances, and cannot cease until consciousness ceases, has the\nhighest validity of any.\n\n\"To sum up this somewhat too elaborate argument:--We have seen how\nin the very assertion that all our knowledge, properly so called,\nis Relative, there is involved the assertion that there exists a\nNon-relative. We have seen how, in each step of the argument by which\nthis doctrine is established, the same assumption is made. We have\nseen how, from the very necessity of thinking in relations, it follows\nthat the Relative is itself inconceivable, except as related to a real\nNon-relative. We have seen that unless a real Non-relative or Absolute\nbe postulated, the Relative itself becomes absolute; and so brings\nthe argument to a contradiction. And on contemplating the process of\nthought, we have equally seen how impossible it is to get rid of\nthe consciousness of an actuality lying behind appearances; and how,\nfrom this impossibility, results our indestructible belief in that\nactuality.\"[61]\n\n  [61] \"First Principles,\" Part 1, Chap. IV, \u00a7 26, N. Y., 1888,\n  pp. 93-97.\n\nSuch an extract as this is very tempting to the critic, but I shall\ntry not to be drawn into criticisms which do not immediately concern\nmy purpose in quoting. The points which chiefly interest me are Mr.\nSpencer's evident confusion of sameness in sense seventh with sameness\nin sense first, and of sameness in sense second with sameness in sense\nfirst. I shall begin with the first confusion.\n\nEvery careful reader of the extract given above must see that the\nAbsolute with which Mr. Spencer's argument is concerned is an Absolute\nin consciousness. It is \"an indefinite consciousness,\" \"raw material\nof consciousness,\" an \"indefinite thought,\" an \"abstract of _all_\nthoughts, ideas, or conceptions.\" It is the element of existence\nwhich is common to all these thoughts, ideas, or conceptions. If\nthere could be any doubt as to the nature of this Absolute in which\nthe argument results, it should be set at rest by the very emphatic\nstatement that \"our consciousness of the unconditioned\" is \"literally\nthe unconditioned consciousness, or raw material of thought to which\nin thinking we give definite forms.\" It is this \"undifferentiated\nsubstance of consciousness which is conditional anew in every\nthought\" that remains with us as an Absolute through all forms of the\nconditioned.\n\nNow this Absolute, the element of existence which accompanies all other\nelements in consciousness, is the only one with which the argument has\nat all concerned itself, and yet this is evidently not the Absolute in\nwhich the author is chiefly interested. There can be no good reason\nfor calling this Absolute either Unknowable, Incomprehensible, or\nInscrutable. It is not a \"Power\" for it is simply the element of\nexistence, nor is it a \"Reality,\" for the \"abstract of _all_ thoughts,\nideas, or conceptions\" must be common to the unreal or imaginary as\nwell as to the real. It is (mental) existence pure and simple. If the\nargument be good, this element is known completely and just as it is;\nindefinitely, it is true, but then it is indefinite, and if known\ndefinitely would not be known as it is. There is nothing farther about\nit to know. It is in no sense Unknowable. If the objection be to the\nuse of the word \"know\" where the knowledge is indefinite, we should\ninvent some word to apply to an indefinite consciousness; but such\nconsciousness, if denied to be knowledge, should not be classed with\nignorance. Moreover, as knowledge is of all degrees of definiteness,\nwe should need a series of words to express the gradations. The series\nwould be a long one.\n\nBut the Absolute which interests Mr. Spencer, and which throws that\nhalo of the mysterious about his philosophy, is a something distinct\nfrom the Absolute in consciousness, and not known as it is. It is by\nno means that which is common to \"impressions\" made upon us, but the\nsomething assumed to make these impressions. It is \"under,\" \"apart\nfrom,\" and \"behind\" appearances and modes--which an Absolute, which\nis simply that which is common to appearances and modes, cannot be.\nPhenomena (the things immediately known) are only \"a manifestation\nof some Power by which we are acted upon,\"[62] and this Absolute\ncannot take its place among phenomena, as the former must. The two\nAbsolutes are, indeed, quite distinct things: one of them, the one in\nconsciousness, has been shown to exist; no argument is forthcoming to\nprove the existence of the other. Manifestly it is not immediately\nknown, for then it would be a phenomenon, however indefinite. Upon what\nground is it inferred? It is the old problem of Descartes and Locke.\n\n  [62] \"First Principles.\" Chap. V, \u00a7 27, p. 99.\n\nThis problem Mr. Spencer solves in the same way as they, by assuming\nthe \"external\" object to be given immediately; but there is this\nimportant difference, that whereas Descartes and Locke fall into the\nerror from inadvertence, the author of the \"First Principles\" and the\n\"Principles of Psychology\" embraces it deliberately. The two earlier\nwriters were sometimes able to recognize as two things a something in\nconsciousness and an assumed something without. They confused them only\nnow and then. Mr. Spencer has been unable to distinguish them with\nclearness at any time, and he elevates the confusion into a principle.\n\n\"The postulate with which metaphysical reasoning sets out, is that we\nare primarily conscious only of our sensations--that we certainly know\nwe have these, and that if there be anything beyond these serving as\ncause for them, it can be known only by inference from them.\n\n\"I shall give much surprise to the metaphysical reader if I call in\nquestion this postulate; and the surprise will rise into astonishment\nif I distinctly deny it. Yet I must do this. Limiting the proposition\nto those epi-peripheral feelings produced in us by external objects\n(for these are alone in question) I see no alternative but to affirm\nthat the thing primarily known, is not that a sensation has been\nexperienced, but that there exists an outer object.\"[63]\n\n  [63] \"Principles of Psychology,\" Part VII, Chap. VI, N. Y., 1883,\n  Vol. II, p. 369.\n\n\"The question here is--What does consciousness directly testify? And\nthe direct testimony of consciousness is, that Time and Space are not\nwithin but without the mind; and so absolutely independent of it that\nthey cannot be conceived to become non-existent even were the mind to\nbecome non-existent.\"[64]\n\n  [64] \"First Principles,\" Part I, Chap. III, \u00a7 15, ed. cit. p. 49.\n\nThe moral of the first bit quoted would seem to be, unless we make\nthe word \"primarily\" refer only to order in time, that one knows\nimmediately what is beyond consciousness and mediately what is in\nit--a use of words satisfactory, I should think, to no one but Mr.\nSpencer. If, by \"primarily\" be meant \"previously,\" and the two classes\nof being are known in just the same way, why distinguish between the\nclasses? Moreover, in this case a thing would not be known \"through\"\nappearances, but before them. Upon the other supposition, to be sure,\nappearances would be known \"through\" it--a mode of speaking not in\nharmony with the language of the \"First Principles.\" It seems a choice\nbetween Scylla and Charybdis.\n\nThe second extract makes consciousness \"directly testify\" not only to\nwhat is beyond its pale, but, putting on the spirit of prophecy, even\nto what does not belong to the present, but to a possible future. When\nwe speak of consciousness as testifying to a sensation, we mean simply\nthat the sensation is in consciousness. The word cannot be used in this\nsense in speaking of what is beyond consciousness. In what sense is it\nused? It would seem to mean, if it mean anything, that consciousness\ngives one the right to infer a something beyond--a right which\nthoughtful men believe should be established by proof. This proof,\none cannot, of course, expect from a man who makes the thing beyond\nconsciousness the thing \"primarily\" known. It would be more consistent\nin him to attempt a proof that there is something in consciousness.\n\nThis complete confusion in Mr. Spencer's mind of things in\nconsciousness and things without, will explain why he keeps talking\nof his two Absolutes as if there were only one, as if this one were\nthe one of which we are conscious, and yet as if this one were beyond\nconsciousness. His pages swarm with illustrations which I might\ngive. I shall give only the following: \"Thus the consciousness of\nan Inscrutable Power manifested to us through all phenomena, has\nbeen growing ever clearer; and must eventually be freed from its\nimperfections.\"[65] If Mr. Spencer ever comes to a consciousness that\nsameness in sense seventh is not sameness in sense first, he will find\nwork before him in remodeling his doctrine.\n\n  [65] \"First Principles,\" Part I, Chap. V, \u00a7 31, p. 108.\n\nThe second confusion upon which I wish to comment comes to the surface\nin a sentence occurring near the end of the lengthy extract quoted at\nthe outset: \"And since the only possible measure of relative validity\namong our beliefs, is the degree of their persistence in opposition\nto the efforts made to change them, it follows that this which\npersists at all times, under all circumstances, and cannot cease until\nconsciousness ceases, has the highest validity of any.\"\n\nNow that which, it has been argued, persists at all times and under\nall circumstances, is the \"raw material of thought,\" the element\nof existence which is the \"abstract of _all_ thoughts, ideas, or\nconceptions.\" It is merely that which they have in common, and can\ninclude none of those elements in which they differ. If, however,\npersistence mean anything, it means persistence in time. That which\nexists at this time and that which exists at that are not one, strictly\nspeaking, but two. That is, they are not the same in sense first,\nbut in some looser sense which will admit of duality. If, then, we\nare dealing with the Absolute, existence pure and simple, and are\nabstracting from all differences which may mark out _this_ existence\nfrom _that_, we must abstract from temporal distinctions too. If we\ndo this, we can no longer speak of the Absolute as persisting. If\nwe do not do this, something may persist, but it is no Absolute.\nMental elements otherwise similar, but distinguished from each other\nby temporal differences are the same in sense second, not in sense\nfirst. The existence of which I am conscious to-day and the existence\nof which I was conscious yesterday are not the same existence in any\nsense save this. Yesterday's existence does not persist to-day; it is\nreplaced by another. Mr. Spencer has evidently fallen into the error of\nthose schoolmen who endeavored to abstract the element which several\nthings have in common, but created unnecessary difficulties by making\nan incomplete abstraction and treating it as though it were complete.\nOther defects of this fallacious argument to prove our belief in the\nAbsolute valid, I will not here discuss.\n\n\nSEC. 35. I next take a few passages which will illustrate the confusion\nof samenesses first and seventh, from Dr. James McCosh's late work on\n\"First and Fundamental Truths.\" They are selected from the chapter on\n\"Our Intuition of Body by the Senses.\"[66]\n\n  [66] Part II, Book I, Chap. II.\n\n\"We are following the plainest dictates of consciousness, we avoid\na thousand difficulties, and we get a solid ground on which to rest\nand to build, when we maintain that the mind in its first exercises\nacquires knowledge; not, indeed, scientific or arranged, not of\nqualities of objects and classes of objects, but still knowledge--the\nknowledge of things presenting themselves, and as they present\nthemselves; which knowledge, individual and concrete, is the foundation\nof all other knowledge, abstract, general and deductive. In particular,\nthe mind is so constituted as to attain a knowledge of body or of\nmaterial objects. It may be difficult to ascertain the exact point\nor surface at which the mind and body come together and influence\neach other, in particular, how far into the body (Descartes without\nproof thought to be in the pineal gland), but it is certain that when\nthey do meet mind knows body as having its essential properties of\nextension and resisting energy. It is through the bodily organism that\nthe intelligence of man attains its knowledge of all material objects\nbeyond. This is true of the infant mind; it is true also of the mature\nmind. We may assert something more than this regarding the organism. It\nis not only the medium through which we know all bodily objects beyond\nitself; it is itself an object primarily known; nay, I am inclined\nto think that, along with the objects immediately affecting it, it\nis the only object originally known. Intuitively man seems to know\nnothing beyond his own organism, and objects directly affecting it; in\nall further knowledge there is a process of inference proceeding on a\ngathered experience. This theory seems to me to explain all the facts,\nand it delivers us from many perplexities.\"[67]\n\n  [67] N. Y., 1889, pp. 62-63.\n\n\"In our primitive cognition of body there is involved a knowledge\nof Outness or Externality. We know the object perceived, be it the\norganism or the object affecting the organism, as not in the mind, but\nas out of the mind. In regard to some of the objects perceived by us,\nwe may be in doubt as to whether they are in the organism or beyond it,\nbut we are always sure that they are extra-mental.\"[68]\n\n  [68] Pp. 68-69.\n\n\"We know the Objects as Affecting Us. I have already said that we\nknow them as independent of us. This is an important truth. But it is\nequally true and equally important that these objects are made known\nto us as somehow having an influence on us. The organic object is\ncapable of affecting our minds, and the extra-organic object affects\nthe organism which affects the mind. Upon this cognition are founded\ncertain judgments as to the relations of the objects known to the\nknowing mind.\"[69]\n\n  [69] P. 70.\n\n\"But it will be vehemently urged that it is most preposterous to\nassert that we know all this by the senses. Upon this I remark that\nthe phrase _by the senses_ is ambiguous. If by senses he meant the\nmere bodily organism--the eye, the ears, the nerves and the brain--I\naffirm that we know, and can know, nothing by this bodily part, which\nis a mere organ or instrument; that so far from knowing potency or\nextension, we do not know even color, or taste, or smell. But if by the\nsenses he meant the mind exercised in sense-perception, summoned into\nactivity by the organism, and contemplating cognitively the external\nworld, then I maintain that we do know, and this intuitively, external\nobjects as influencing us; that is, exercising powers in reference to\nus. I ask those who would doubt of this doctrine of what it is that\nthey suppose the mind to be cognizant in sense-perception. If they\nsay a mere sensation or impression in the mind, I reply that this is\nnot consistent with the revelation of consciousness, which announces\nplainly that what we know is something extra-mental. If they say, with\nKant, a mere phenomenon in the sense of appearance, then I reply that\nthis, too, is inconsistent with consciousness, which declares that we\nknow the thing.\"[70]\n\n  [70] Pp. 71 and 72.\n\nThe statements contained in these extracts are plainly in a state of\ncivil war, and might be left, without foreign aid, to complete their\nown destruction. I shall first let them criticize each other.\n\n(1) It is asserted that it may be difficult to ascertain the exact\npoint or surface at which the mind and body come together and influence\neach other--in particular how far into the body--but that it is certain\nthat _when they do meet_ mind knows body as having its essential\nproperties of extension and resisting energy.\n\nThis knowledge is said to arise _when they meet_, be it marked, and not\nbefore.\n\n(2) It is also asserted that it is _through the body_ that the mind\nattains its knowledge of _all_ material objects beyond.\n\nThis makes our knowledge of objects beyond the body mediate and not\nimmediate. Why are objects beyond the body regarded as mediately\nknown? No reason is suggested except that they are not themselves\nin contact with the mind, but only in contact with that which is in\ncontact with the mind. It is then presumable that _any parts of the\nbodily organism which never themselves meet the mind (if there are any\nsuch) are not known immediately_, but only through the parts which\ndo meet the mind. That is, they are known mediately, too. That there\nare, or at least may be, such parts, is directly inferrible from the\nstatement that we do not know \"how far into the body\" mind and body\ncome together.\n\n(3) It is stated that the body is an object \"primarily\" known. It\nis regarded by the author as probable that, along with the objects\nimmediately affecting it, it is the only object \"originally\" known. He\nthinks that man knows \"intuitively\" nothing beyond his own organism and\nobjects directly affecting it.\n\nBut what is meant by the words \"primarily,\" \"originally,\"\n\"intuitively\"? If things not in direct contact with mind are not known\nimmediately but through something else, and if the point or surface\nat which mind and body meet is at some uncertain distance from the\nsurface of the body, surely the only material thing immediately known\nis that portion of the body in contact with mind, and not the whole\nbody with the objects directly affecting it. Knowledge of these mediate\nobjects must be due to a process of inference from what is directly\nexperienced. _Things known \"primarily,\" \"originally\" and \"intuitively\"\nare then known mediately and inferentially_--even in some cases so\nimperfectly known that it is not known what and where they are, whether\nin or beyond the body.\n\n(4) The doctrine that we are conscious in sense-perception of a mere\nsensation or impression in the mind is answered by the statement that\nthis is not consistent with the revelation of consciousness, which\nannounces plainly that what we know is something extra-mental. Kant's\nphenomenalism is met by the claim that consciousness declares that we\nknow the thing.\n\nA thing known mediately, however, cannot be more certainly known than\nthe thing known immediately, and from which its existence is inferred.\n_The immediate revelation of consciousness cannot do more than give as\na knowledge of the point or surface at which mind and body meet._ It\nis only here that mind can directly know body \"as having its essential\nproperties of extension and resisting energy.\" _But so far from\nconsciousness testifying to the extension and resistance of this part\nof the body, it does not, as Dr. McCosh admits, testify to this part of\nthe body at all._ If it reveal nothing as to what it knows immediately,\nwhat can its statement as to what it knows mediately be worth? And if\nconsciousness testifies that it knows immediately what Dr. McCosh has\nmaintained to be mediately known, he must hold that its revelation is\nfalse and delusive. It certainly seems to me that my consciousness\nreveals the ink-stand before me as it does not reveal the part of my\nbody with which the mind has \"come together,\" since it does not even\nreveal whether this part be a point or a surface. If my knowledge of\nthe ink-stand must rest upon my knowledge of this, and can have no\ngreater certainty, my faith in the ink-stand must go. A tower cannot be\nmore firm than its foundation.\n\nSo much for the consistency of the extracts themselves. I now turn to\na criticism on a different basis. The difficulties connected with this\ninconsistent doctrine naturally arise out of the standpoint occupied by\nthe author. He accepts as final, and as justifiable in metaphysics, the\nconvenient psychological assumption that the group of sensations gained\nfrom an object is a something distinct from the object itself; that the\nobject may be external to the organism, but that the mind, with its\nsensations, is, or may be treated as if it were, somewhere within the\norganism; that the sensations are gained from real things, but are not\nthemselves real things, so that a world of sensations--things being\nabstracted--must be an unreal and phantom world.\n\nNow, the man who has thus distinguished between things and sensations,\nif he regard the sensations as our only immediate representatives\nof the things, will find it difficult, without making an evidently\ngratuitous assumption somewhere, to prove his right to reach things\nat all. Dr. McCosh sees this difficulty, and so he assumes that\nconsciousness reveals both sensations and things. He allows us\n\"perceptions mingled with sensations.\"[71] Where are these mingled\nperceptions and sensations? In the mind. Where is the mind? In the\nbody. In what body? The body perceived. Is this body perceived itself\nin the mind and mingled with sensations? No. It is then distinct from\nthe mental percept--the perception of it is somewhere in it, but is not\nit. How do we know, then, that there is a body? We infer it from the\npercept; consciousness (the percept) \"reveals\" it. On what principle\nis it inferred? The question is a just one if the knowledge be not\nimmediate. Our author does not even see that there is a question.\nThe fact is that this doctrine seems to avoid the difficulties of a\nrepresentative perception only while it is allowed to remain loose\nand vague. If things are not to be known representatively, they\nmust either be themselves in consciousness--_and then they are not\nextra-mental_--or they must be directly known in some other way than\nas in consciousness, _and then consciousness does not reveal them and\ncannot be appealed to_. An appeal to consciousness, unless the thing\nitself is in consciousness, is fatal.\n\n  [71] Chap. III, p. 75.\n\nBut this discrimination between sensations and the thing causing the\nsensations, and the assumption that consciousness testifies to the\ntwo classes of things, does not seem to be borne out by the facts.\nConsciousness does not testify to the two classes. The common man\nthinks that he knows directly the things that he sees and feels, and\nthe distinction between these things and his ideas of the things, or\nhis sensations gathered from the things, arises only upon reflection\nand after a comparison of his experiences with those of other men. He\nsees the ink-stand in front of another man's body. He discovers that\nthe other man sees the ink-stand--that is, has an experience like his\nown. He finds, after investigation, that this other man does not have\nthe experience until after some influence has been conducted by the\nnerves to the brain. He accordingly concludes that the mind of this\nother man, and all that it _immediately_ knows, is situated somewhere\nin the brain. He thus distinguishes between the ink-stand and the\nrepresentative of the ink-stand in the mind of the other man. This is\nprecisely what Dr. McCosh has done, though he has preferred to use\nthe word perception instead of sensation or impression. Having gone\nas far as this, the man in question reflects, if he be consistent,\nthat his own case must be essentially similar to that of the man he is\nconsidering, and concludes that he, too, sees only (immediately, at\nleast) some representative of the ink-stand, and not the thing itself.\nDr. McCosh does not conclude this, because he is not consistent. But\nan ink-stand, a tree, a house, in the brain, cannot be very much like\na real ink-stand, tree or house. Then one does not see things as they\nare, but is condemned to a phantom world. Having gone thus far, our\ncommon man is appalled at his own conclusions, as well he may be.\n\nHe may, however, be readily reassured, if one will point out to him the\nerror in his argument. The whole argument began by assuming that he has\nevidence that some object is in front of his body and in front of the\nbody of another man; that he has a body and so has the other man. If\nthis knowledge be immediate, of course it may furnish the basis of an\nargument; but if it be not immediate, one has no right to begin with\nit, but should go back to what is immediate. Let us assume that it is\nimmediate. What I am then conscious of is my own body, the other man's\nbody and the object in relation to them. Upon this basis I argue to\nsome representative of the object I immediately see, and I connect it\nwith the man's brain. Does the man now see two objects or only one? If\nonly one, which one? The one I refer to his brain, or the one I see?\nDoes the one he sees seem to him to be in his brain? Probably he has\nnot the least notion that it is connected with that organ. Am I, then,\nin his case? Do I also see only a copy of the object in my brain? And\nmay this not be true, although I have no immediate knowledge of my\nbrain and its relation to that object? But--and this is the important\npoint--if all this be true, how about the position with which I\nstarted? My argument is based upon two real bodies and a real object. I\nsee that I was wholly in error in supposing that I saw these and could\nreason from them. Then the reasoning is not good. Then the conclusion\nis not reliable, and it is not proved that I see immediately only an\nimage in, or in some sort of contact with, my brain. The fallacious\ncharacter of the argument is plain enough; where is the flaw? It lies\nin this:\n\nI assume that I see the two bodies and the object immediately.\nConsciousness seems to reveal them. After granting the man opposite\nme a representative of that object I apply the same reasoning to\nmyself, forgetting that I assumed at the outset that I see the real\nobject. I can certainly not put the object I see in my brain, for the\nbrain in any way I can be conceived to know it belongs to precisely\nthe same class of things as this object, and they are beside each\nother in consciousness. The representative the other man has is a\nrepresentative of the object in my consciousness, and not--at least, I\nhave no evidence that it is--a representative of a something else of\nwhich my object is also a representative. And if the object of which I\nam immediately conscious is extended and without my body (immediately\nperceived), I may assume that the object in his consciousness is also\nextended and without the body in his consciousness. His representative\nof my object is not in the head I see, for his head as I see it is\nin my consciousness, if the object I see is, and any object in his\nconsciousness is the same with any corresponding object in mine only\nin sense sixth--a sense of sameness which I have explained at length\nin the earlier part of my work. This reasoning is, it seems to me,\nclear enough and consistent enough, and should be plain to any one\nwho will take the trouble to follow it carefully. It lands one in no\nsuch difficulties and inconsistencies as result from the doctrine I\nhave been criticizing. Should it be said this is a form of Idealism,\nand at least abandons what is extra-mental, I answer, the name is a\nmatter of taste and of little significance; what is important is that\nthis doctrine does not found its reasoning upon an assumption which\nits conclusion declares to be false; nor does it maintain that what is\nimmediately known is not extended, figured, external to the body, as\nit seems to be, but something quite different and dissimilar. It is\nin harmony with the revelation of consciousness. Should it still be\nobjected that it makes no distinction between things and the sensations\nor impressions which represent them, I answer, one can object to things\nbeing regarded as complexes of sensations only as long as he separates\nsensations and things, making the former unlike the things and\nrelegating them to a place (the brain) where the things are not, and\nto exist in which they must be very bad copies of the things indeed.\nThe doctrine I advocate does not deny the things as perceived at all;\nit merely holds that consciousness does declare for the things, and\nnot for a set of representatives much unlike them and said to exist\nin a place in which we are not conscious of perceiving anything. It\nobjects to seeing double through an incomplete reflection upon what\nconsciousness reveals.\n\nNow it is very evident that Dr. McCosh, in his anxiety to prove an\nextra-mental world, is actuated by a desire to retain real things.\nHe is under the impression that, unless the extra-mental is known,\nour knowledge is confined to shadows and unrealities. He combats\nthe Idealist, because he supposes him to deny the body of which we\nare conscious; whereas, all that the Idealist is denying (if he be\nconsistent with his principles) is the hypothetical representative of\nthe body, assumed to exist within the body, and to which consciousness\ndoes not testify. It is this that is the unreality. The body to\nwhich the Idealist holds is the very body to which Dr. McCosh thinks\nconsciousness testifies; but this body is not beyond consciousness,\nnor in any proper sense of the words extra-mental. The above argument\nfor the extra-mental is consequently due to a misconception--to\nthe misconception that the body revealed by consciousness is the\nextra-mental body, and that the only body left to an Idealist is an\nunreal phantom of this body, and distinct from it. And it is the\nattempt to make this body revealed by consciousness both in mind and\nout of mind that has occasioned the difficulties and inconsequences\nof the reasoning I have quoted. This attempt is due to a confusion\nof sameness in sense seventh with sameness in sense first. My excuse\nfor so minute a criticism of this plainly untenable position is that\nwe have here a representative instance of an error quite common, and\nindeed characteristic of a certain stage of reflection.\n\n\nSEC. 36. The last confusion of samenesses that I shall discuss lies at\nthe bottom of the common opinion on the infinite divisibility of space,\nand causes the antinomies which arise from it. The position I shall\ncriticize is well set forth in Professor W. K. Clifford's popular\nlecture entitled \"Of Boundaries in General.\"[72] From this I take a few\npassages which will suffice to illustrate his doctrine.\n\n  [72] \"Seeing and Thinking,\" London, Macmillan & Co., 1879.\n\n\"Now the idea expressed by that word _continuous_ is one of extreme\nimportance; it is the foundation of all exact science of things; and\nyet it is so very simple and elementary that it must have been almost\nthe first clear idea that we got into our heads. It is only this: I\ncannot move this thing from one position to another, without making it\ngo through an infinite number of intermediate positions. _Infinite_; it\nis a dreadful word, I know, until you find out that you are familiar\nwith the thing which it expresses. In this place it means that between\nany two positions there is some intermediate position; between that\nand either of the others, again, there is some other intermediate; and\nso on _without any end_. Infinite means without any end. If you went\non with that work of counting forever, you would never get any further\nthan the beginning of it. At last you would only have two positions\nvery close together, but not the same; and the whole process might be\ngone over again, beginning with those as many times as you like.\"\n\n* * * * \"When a point moves, it moves along some line; and you may\nsay that it traces out or describes the line. To look at something\ndefinite, let us take the point where this boundary of red on paper is\ncut by the surface of water. I move all about together. Now you know\nthat between any two positions of the point there is an infinite number\nof intermediate positions. Where are they all? Why, clearly, in the\nline along which the point moved. That line is the place where all such\npoints are to be found.\"\n\n* * * * \"It seems a very natural thing to say that space is made up\nof points. I want you to examine very carefully what this means,\nand how far it is true. And let us first take the simplest case, and\nconsider whether we may safely say that a line is made up of points.\nIf you think of a very large number--say, a million--of points all in\na row, the end ones being an inch apart; then this string of points\nis altogether a different thing from a line an inch long. For if you\nsingle out two points which are next one another, then there is no\npoint of the series between them; but if you take two points on a line,\nhowever close together they may be, there is an infinite number of\npoints between them. The two things are different _in kind_, not in\ndegree.\"\n\n* * * * \"When a point moves along a line, we know that between any two\npositions of it there is an infinite number (in this new sense[73]) of\nintermediate positions. That is because the motion is continuous. Each\nof those positions is where the point was at some instant or other.\nBetween the two end positions on the line, the point where the motion\nbegan and the point where it stopped, there is no point of the line\nwhich does not belong to that series. We have thus an infinite series\nof successive positions of a continuously moving point, and in that\nseries are included all the points of a certain piece of line-room. May\nwe say then that the line is made up of that infinite series of points?\n\n  [73] Professor Clifford has used the word _number_ in two senses,\n  a quantitative and a qualitative. By number in the latter sense he\n  means simply _unlimited units_.\n\n\"Yes; if we mean no more than that the series makes up the _points_ of\nthe line. But _no_, if we mean that the line is made up of those points\nin the same way that it is made up of a great many very small pieces of\nline. A point is not to be regarded as a _part_ of a line, in any sense\nwhatever. It is the boundary between two parts.\"\n\nThese extracts suffice, I think, to show what the common doctrine is,\nand to show also the unavoidable difficulties connected with it.\nThese were clearly seen long ago. Motion, argues Zeno of Elea,[74]\ncannot begin, because a body in motion must pass through an infinite\nnumber of intermediate places before it can arrive at any other place.\nAchilles can never overtake the tortoise, for by the time that he has\nreached the place where it was, it has always moved a little beyond.\nIf Professor Clifford could not move a thing from one position to\nanother, without making it go though an infinite number of intermediate\npositions, if these positions must be gone through with successively,\nand if infinite really mean _without any end_, then the final member\nof the series could never have been reached, for the plain reason that\nthere is no final member to an endless series. If the new position is\nreached without passing through every member of the series and leaving\nnone farther to pass through, it is not reached by passing through an\ninfinite number of intermediate positions. The difficulty here is a\nhopeless one; either the series has a final member, _and then it is not\ninfinite_; or it has not, _and then one cannot come to the end_.\n\n  [74] Ueberweg, Hist. of Philos., Vol. I, \u00a7 20. N. Y., 1877,\n  pp. 57-58.\n\nThe attempt sometimes made to avoid this difficulty by calling upon\na precisely similar one for aid is of not the least avail. The time\nof the motion, it is said, is divisible just as is the space over\nwhich the body moves; the spaces and the times then vary together,\nand as the spaces become very small the times become very small;\ninfinitesimal spaces are passed over in infinitesimal times, and all\nthese infinitesimals are included in the finite space and finite time\nof the motion. But if there be a difficulty in arriving at the end of\nan endless series of places or positions, there is surely no less a\ndifficulty in reaching the end of an endless series of times. If the\nseries of times to be successively exhausted be truly endless, then\nan end of the motion can never be reached. Quibbling over the size\nof the members of the series in the case of either space or time is\nuseless. Whether things are big or little, if the supply of them is\ntruly endless, one can never get to the end of the supply. The rapidity\nwith which they are exhausted has nothing to do with the question,\nfor an increase in rapidity has obviously no effect in facilitating\nan approach to what is assumed not to exist, a final term. It is,\nthen, perfectly clear that, if, in order to move a body, I must come\nto the end of an endless series, I may reasonably conclude that I\ncannot move a body. Granting the assumption upon which it is based,\nZeno's argument is unanswerable. It is not a question of an ordinary\ndifficulty, a trifling evil; it is a question of an impossibility, a\nflat contradiction; to move an inch, to endure for a minute, one is to\naccomplish the feat of reaching the end of the endless. One thing is\nquite certain; no rival doctrine can present a greater difficulty.\n\nIt is possible that some one may wish to find a way out of this\ndifficulty by distinguishing, as Clifford has done, between the\n_points_ of the line and the _parts_ of the line. But this distinction\nis of no service. All these points are declared to be on the line, and\nanything that passes over the whole line must exhaust them one by one\nuntil it arrives at the final point. By hypothesis, there is no final\npoint to the series--the series is without any end. Unless, then, the\nline can be passed over without passing over the points, there would\nseem to be no help in turning to line pieces. Moreover, it appears\nreasonable to assume that there are as many parts to the line as there\nare points. For all these points are on the line, and no two of them\nare in precisely the same position on the line; they must consequently\nbe on different parts of the line. If it be objected that, having no\nextension, they cannot properly be said to be _on_ parts of the line, I\nanswer that, even on this hypothesis, they must be _at_ different parts\nof the line, in order to be distinguished from each other. The part of\nthe line between any two of them is certainly not the same as the part\nbetween any other two. It follows that the number of parts of which the\nline is made up is at least as great as the number of points less one,\nif we refuse to say that the points are on the line; and is as great\nas the number of points, if we are willing to say that they are on the\nline. To move over the whole line, then, a point must come within one\nterm of the end of an endless series, or it must pass over an endless\nnumber of small pieces of line until it comes to the very end. Does\nthis seem a sensible doctrine?\n\nThe rival doctrine, sometimes called the Berkeleyan, contains no\nsuch difficulties, and it makes evident that the difficulties\ndiscussed above arise simply out of a confusion of samenesses, and\nare gratuitous. Its discussion demands that I call to mind a few\ndistinctions already made.\n\nOne must bear in mind, in the first place, that a line immediately\nknown, existing in consciousness, is the same with an \"external\" line\ncorresponding to it, not in sense first, but in sense seventh. That is,\nthey are two lines, not one, and in the interests of clearness they\nshould be considered separately.\n\nOne should remember, in the second place, that a line in consciousness\nat one moment is not, in the strictest sense, the same with a line in\nconsciousness at another moment. One may stand for the other and thus\nbe the same with it in sense fifth; or the two may be regarded as both\nbelonging to the one series of experiences, which, taken together,\nrepresent to us \"an object,\" in which case they are the same in sense\nthird. A thing the same with another thing in either of these senses\nis not necessarily much like it. It must only be able to serve as its\nrepresentative.\n\nNow I see a line about an inch long on the paper before me. It is a\ncertain distance from my eyes. I shall concern myself for the present\nonly with the line immediately perceived, which means for me so much\nsensation. If I move this line (which remains the same in sense\nthird), nearer to me or farther away, I do not perceive the identical\nthing that I did before. My quantity of sensation is increased or\ndiminished. If I keep the line at the same distance and change none\nof the conditions, the quantity of sensation remains presumably the\nsame. The question arises, Is this line as actually experienced at\nthis moment infinitely divisible or not? I can certainly conceive of\nit as divisible to some extent, for I see part out of part, and I can\nthink of these parts as separated. But if this line were divided, the\ndivision would soon result in parts which could be seen, but which\ncould not be seen to consist of part out of part. Were these apparently\nnon-extended parts (they would remain the same in sense third),\napproached to the eyes, they, too, would be seen to consist of part out\nof part, but then I should simply have substituted for the apparently\nnon-extended a representative which was extended. This would not\nprove that what was before in consciousness was extended and could be\ndivided. Consciousness certainly seems to testify that any particular\nline in consciousness is composed of a limited number of indivisible\nparts, and when one adds to this reflection the consideration that a\npoint moving over a given line does not appear to have an endless task\nbefore it, but soon arrives at the final term, one is irresistibly\nimpelled to the conclusion that the parts of the line are not infinite,\nbut that the division results in the indivisible, the simple element of\nsensation, which, joined with other such elements, makes an extended\nobject, but which taken alone is not extended at all. The whole\ndifficulty lies in keeping to the line and the parts with which one\nstarted. It is so easy to pass from sameness in sense first to sameness\nin sense third or sense fifth; it is so natural to bring an object\nwhich is, as we say, imperfectly seen, closer to the eye and thus\nsubstitute for what was seen before a new experience connected with it\nin the order of nature, confident that any system of relations derived\nfrom the latter may safely be carried over to all possible experiences\nconnected with the former; one does this so instinctively that a man\nmay very readily suppose that he is still busied about the apparently\nnon-extended element with which he started, when he is in reality\ndividing and sub-dividing its representative, which is evidently\nextended. But the question is not whether, when one has divided a\nline until the parts cannot be seen to consist of parts, one may\nsubstitute for these parts what evidently does consist of parts, and go\non dividing that. The question is, whether an apparently non-extended\nelement of a line in consciousness is divisible or not. Any argument\nfrom the possibility of dividing its substitutes evidently has nothing\nto do with this point.\n\nIt is plain that this doctrine, which makes any particular finite line\nin consciousness to consist of a limited number of simple parts, is not\nopen to the objection that it necessitates the absurdity of exhausting\nan endless series. Moving along such a line, Achilles could overtake\nthe tortoise, for the successively diminishing distances between them\ndo not constitute an endless series. The descending series results\nafter a limited number of terms in the simple, and the series is\nbroken, for the simple does not consist of parts. In this there is at\nleast no contradiction. It remains to see what other objections may lie\nagainst it.\n\nIt may be argued, first, as it often is argued, that it is impossible\nto conceive of any part of a line as not itself extended and having\nparts. It may be admitted that the small parts arrived at do not seem\nto have part out of part; that these sub-parts are not observed in\nthem, but still it is said that one who thinks about them cannot but\nthink of them as really having such parts. I ask one who puts forward\nthis objection to look into his own mind and see whether he does not\nmean by \"thinking about them,\" bringing them in imagination nearer\nto the eye, or by some means substituting for them what can be seen\nto have part out of part. That one can do this no one would think of\ndenying, but, as I have said, this does not prove the original parts to\nbe extended.\n\nIt may be objected again that extension can never be built up out of\nthe non-extended--that if one element of a given kind has, taken alone,\nno extension at all, two or more such elements together cannot have\nany extension either. I answer that a straight line has no angularity\nat all, and yet two straight lines may obviously make an angle; that\none man is not in the least a crowd, but that one hundred men may be;\nthat no single tree is a forest, but that many trees together do make\na forest; that a uniform expanse of color is in no sense a variegated\nsurface, but that several such together do make a variegated surface.\nIt may be that extension is simply the name we give to several simple\nsense-elements of a particular kind taken together. One cannot say\noff-hand that it is not.\n\nShould one object, finally, that, if a given line in consciousness be\ncomposed of a limited number of indivisible elements of sensation,\nconsciousness ought to distinguish these single elements and testify\nas to their number; I answer that what is in consciousness is not\nnecessarily in a clear analytical consciousness, nor well distinguished\nfrom other elements. For example, I am at present conscious of a stream\nof sensations which I connect with the hand that holds my pen. The\nsingle elements in this complex I cannot distinguish from each other,\nnor can I give their number. It does not follow that I am to assume\nthe number to be infinite. Much less should I be impelled to make\nthis assumption, if it necessitated my accepting as true what I see\nto be flatly contradictory, as in the case under discussion. It was\nbecause of this vagueness and lack of discrimination in the testimony\nof consciousness that I said, some distance back, that consciousness\n_seems_ to testify that any finite line in it is composed of simple\nparts. If the testimony were quite clear, the matter would be settled\nat once. As it is not quite clear, the matter has to be settled on\na deductive basis. The most reasonable solution appears to be the\nBerkeleyan.\n\nSo much for the line immediately perceived, the line in consciousness.\nWhat shall we say to one who is willing to admit that this line is not\ninfinitely divisible, but is composed of simple sense-elements; and yet\nwho maintains that there exists an \"external\" line corresponding to\nit, which is not immediately perceived, and is infinitely divisible?\nWe may begin by suggesting to him that an \"external\" point moving\nover this \"external\" line must perform the wholly impossible feat to\nwhich Clifford condemns a point moving over a line; and we may farther\nsuggest that, if the \"external\" world be an intelligible world at\nall, a contradiction may be as much out of place in it as anywhere\nelse. And if the existence of this world be problematic, a thing not\nself-evident, it seems quite reasonable to demand very good proof\nindeed of the existence, of that which contains in its very conception\nsuch excellent reasons for believing in its non-existence. This proof,\nthe student of the history of speculation will testify, has not as yet\nbeen forthcoming.\n\n\nSEC. 37. With this I close my analysis of samenesses, and of confusions\nwhich have resulted in needless embarrassments and gratuitous\ndifficulties. More instances of the latter could be given, of course.\nThe reader will be able to furnish, I presume, many like them. Those\nwhich I have given seem to me quite sufficient to prove the need\nof much greater care and exactitude than one commonly finds in\nmetaphysical reasonings. Loose reasoning is bad reasoning, and leads\nto bad results. Its one virtue is that it does not require much mental\napplication on the part of either author or reader. On the other\nhand, the attempt to be cautious and exact, to distinguish between\nthings easily confounded, and to keep strictly to the thing in dispute\nthrough a long discussion, these things are wearisome to all concerned.\nAlthough I am quite conscious of this fact, I have tried to do these\nthings: with what result, my fellow-analysts must judge. I feel\nreasonably sure that I have succeeded in being wearisome, and for this\nI make due apology.\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n  PART I.\n\n  THE KINDS OF SAMENESS.\n                                                           PAGE.\n\n  SEC. 1. Object of the Monograph,                                     5\n\n   \"   2. Sameness in Sense First, or Strict Identity,                 6\n\n   \"   3. Sameness in Sense Second,                                    6\n\n   \"   4. Sameness in Sense Third,                                     6\n\n   \"   5. Sameness in Sense Fourth,                                   11\n\n   \"   6. Sameness in Sense Fifth,                                    12\n\n   \"   7. Sameness in Sense Sixth,                                    14\n\n   \"   8. Sameness in Sense Seventh,                                  16\n\n   \"   9. The Samenesses of \"External\" Things,                        31\n\n   \"  10. Ambiguity of the Word \"Self,\"                               34\n\n   \"  11. The Samenesses of the Self,                                 35\n\n   \"  12. Samenesses of the Self as Noumenon or Substance,            35\n\n   \"  13. Samenesses of the \"Real\" Self out of Consciousness,         37\n\n   \"  14. Samenesses of the Self in Consciousness,                    38\n\n   \"  15. Samenesses of the Self in Consciousness (continued),        42\n\n   \"  16. Samenesses of the Self in Consciousness (continued),        43\n\n   \"  17. The Self as \"Form,\" and its Samenesses,                     43\n\n   \"  18. Summary of Results of the Foregoing Analysis,               48\n\n   \"  19. The Element Common to the Kinds of Sameness,                54\n\n   \"  20. Use of the Word Identity,                                   64\n\n\n  PART II.\n\n  HISTORICAL AND CRITICAL.\n\n  SEC. 21. The Error of Heraclitus,                                   67\n\n   \"   22. The Climax of Cratylus,                                    68\n\n   \"   23. The Parmenidean Argument for the Eternity of \"Being,\"      68\n\n   \"   24. Gorgias and Samenesses Fifth and Sixth,                    69\n\n   \"   25. Plato and the Eleatic \"One,\"                               70\n\n   \"   26. Aristotle's Treatment of Samenesses,                       82\n\n   \"   27. The Confusions of Pyrrho, and Their Results,               84\n\n   \"   28. Sameness and the Dispute concerning Universals,            88\n\n   \"   29. Descartes' Confusion of Samenesses,                        98\n\n   \"   30. Spinoza's Argument to Prove every Substance Infinite,     108\n\n   \"   31. Locke's Confusion of Sense First and Sense Seventh,       111\n\n   \"   32. Berkeley's Error concerning Sense Sixth,                  120\n\n   \"   33. John Stuart Mill on the Kinds of Sameness,                122\n\n   \"   34. The Spencerian \"Unknowable,\" and Samenesses Seventh\n           and Second,                                               124\n\n   \"   35. The Confusions at the Basis of Dr. McCosh's \"Realism,\"    134\n\n   \"   36. Sameness and the Infinite Divisibility of Space,          143\n\n   \"   37. Conclusion,                                               152\n\n\n\n\n      *      *      *      *      *      *\n\n\n\n\nTranscriber's note:\n\nInconsistencies in hyphenation and punctuation have not been corrected.\n\nTranscriber's corrections:\n\n  page   original text                    correction\n  17     aller Gergenst\u00e4nde                aller Gegenst\u00e4nde\n  48     element in consciousnesss        element in consciousness\n  55     found in a consciousnesss,       found in a consciousness,\n  58     parce que vous voyons            parce que nous voyons\n  58     Premi\u00e9res Objections.            Premi\u00e8res Objections.\n  79     differences are invidualizing    differences are individualizing\n  101    upon his expe-ences,             upon his experiences,","title":"On Sameness and Identity: A Psychological Study: Being a Contribution to the Foundations of a Theory of Knowledge","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":52120}