Fundamental Philosophy, Vol. 2 (of 2). Balmes Jaime Luciano
will, perhaps, be objected, that the negation is one thing, and the reason of the negation another: that the simple no suffices for the former, and that it is only for the latter that more words are needed. But this is an equivocation. When the no was said, it was said for a reason, and this reason was the sight of the inconsequence then expressed by the words. Otherwise it would be necessary to admit the negative to be a blind judgment, and given without a reason. This being so, this reason founded upon the judgment, although expressed in the most laconical mode possible, would require some words, to form which, either interiorly or exteriorly, there has been no time. There is a question of calculation. He who hears the proposition cannot know the meaning of it, until the word attest is pronounced, and the sentence brought to a full stop. Before reaching the word attest, the sense of the proposition was unknown; it was not possible to form any judgment, since instead of saying, "If it be true the senses will attest it," he might have said, "If it be true the senses will not belie it."
We have spoken of the full stop, in order to show the instantaneousness of the perception and of the judgment, which proves that the understanding does not determine until the last moment. But let us suppose the same word attest to have been used indeed, but instead of a full stop, to have been followed by these other words, "if this fact falls under their jurisdiction." The words are the same, and yet they do not provoke a negative judgment; and why? Simply because the speaker continued. If he had ceased speaking, or had used an inflection of voice indicative of a period, the no would have risen like a flash. A comma or a period in writing, produce the same effect as a pause or an inflection of the voice in speaking. When we see these signs, we judge instantaneously, with a velocity incomparably greater than any internal or external locution.
It would be easy to multiply examples showing the superiority of thought to speech, so far as rapidity is concerned; but those already adduced seem to us sufficient to prove that there is some exaggeration in saying that "man before speaking his thought, thinks his words," if it be understood that all thought is impossible without a word thought.
CHAPTER XXIX.
ORIGIN AND CHARACTER OF THE RELATION BETWEEN LANGUAGE AND IDEAS
183. Many ideas seem to be like sensations and sentiments; simple facts, incapable of decomposition, for which reason we cannot explain them with words. Words illustrate ideas; but do they not sometimes also confuse them? When we speak of an idea, we reflect upon it, and I have already remarked11 that the reflective force of our perceptive ideas is much inferior to their direct force.
184. We have sometimes thought that we do, perhaps, know things which we imagine we do not know, and that we are ignorant of things we think we know. It is certain that disputes have been had in all schools of philosophy upon many ideas, without attaining any satisfactory result; and yet these ideas ought to be sufficiently clear to our mind, since we all use them every day without any equivocation. Philosophers have not, as yet, been able to agree upon the ideas of space and time, but the most ignorant men, nevertheless, make use of these words, and whenever the necessity occurs, apply them with exactness. This seems to prove that the difficulty is not in the idea but in its explanation.
185. It has been remarked that there is great truth and exactness in ordinary language, so much so, that the careful observer is astonished at the recondite wisdom hidden in a language; to see how great, how various, and how delicate are the gradations into which the sense of words is distributed. This is not the fruit of reflection; it is the work of reason operating directly, and consequently making use of ideas without reflecting upon them.
186. In ideological investigations some idea of the idea is sought, and it is not noted that if this be necessary to science, another idea of the other idea may be exacted, and that thus an infinite process may be given. It ought to be borne in mind that in treating of simple facts, as well external as internal, no other explanation of them can be demanded than an exposition.
187. Idea-images are a font of error, and probably all ideas explicable by words are not less so. An idea-image induces the belief that there are in our mind no ideas but sensible representations, and the supposition that every idea can be expressed by words, makes us imagine that to be composite which is simple, and attribute to the substance what belongs to the form.
188. A composite idea seems to be a union, or rather a connected series of ideas, which are either excited simultaneously, or follow each other with great rapidity. Our understanding requires words to bind this collection, to retain the thread which connects them; and hence it is, that when the idea is simple, language is not indispensable. It is said that speech is necessary in order to think, it might sometimes be said with more propriety, that it is necessary in order to recollect.
189. When the object occupying our attention is offered to the sensible intuition, we have no need of speech. We can, when we reflect upon a right line, an angle, a triangle, observe that their imaginary representation is all that we require, and that we do not need to bind these objects together by words. The same thing happens in thinking of unity, or on the numbers two, three, and four, which we easily represent to ourselves sensibly. The necessity for speech begins when the imagination loses the distinct representation of objects, and needs to combine various ideas. Did we not assign to a word the idea of a many-sided polygon, we should be in the greatest confusion, and it would be impossible for us to reason upon it.
190. Since, on the one hand, our perceptive faculties do not create their objects, but are limited to the combining of them; and, on the other hand, our perception is not capable of embracing many at one time, it results that the exercise of our faculties is necessarily successive; the unity of consciousness serving as the bond of union to our perceptions. But consciousness has no other means of knowing what passes within it, than to fix its operations by determinate signs, whence flows the necessity of arbitrary signs, which must be sensible, by reason of the relation uniting our intelligence with the sensitive faculties: and it is to be observed, that for this reason, every sign to which we assign an idea, may be the object of one of the senses. The great number and variety of ideas and their combinations, require an exceedingly variable and flexible sign, and this variety and flexibility require certain characters to simplify it, and thus render its retention in the memory more easy, whence the advantages of language: in the midst of its astonishing variety it lays these characters in radical syllables. The conjugation of a single verb alone offers us a considerable number of very different ideas, the retention of which would be excessively difficult, were they not joined by some tie such as the radical syllable: as in the verb to speak, the syllable speak. We see this by the greater labor the irregular verbs cost us than do the regular verbs when learning a language: and it may be remarked in children also, who blunder on the irregularities. We might compare language to the catalogue of a library, which is the more perfect, the more it unites simplicity with variety, so as to designate exactly the classes of the books and the shelves whereon they are to be found.
191. Succession of ideas and operations; here, then, originates the necessity of a sign by which to connect and recollect them: relation of our understanding with the sensitive faculties, is the reason why the signs must be sensible; variety and simplicity of language constitutes its merit so far as the sign of ideas.12
CHAPTER XXX.
INNATE IDEAS
192. Among the adversaries of innate ideas there exist profound differences. The materialists maintain that man has received every thing through the senses, in such a way as to make our understanding nothing more than the product of an organism which has been advancing in perfection, just as a machine acquires, by use, a greater facility and delicacy of movement. They suppose nothing but the faculty of sensation to pre-exist in the mind; or, to speak more correctly, they admit no mind, but only a corporeal being, whose functions naturally produce what is called the intellectual development.
The sensists who do not attribute to matter the faculty of thinking, do not admit innate ideas; they confess the existence of the mind, but concede to it non-sensitive faculties; all that it owns must have come to it through the senses, and it can be nothing else than a transformed sensation.
Innate
See Book I., Chs. III. and XXIII.
See Bk. I., Ch. XXVI.