CHAPTER 3

99. I felt I should deal at some length with Condillac's system because of its continued popularity in Italy although it cannot be claimed as the system best suited to the kind of thought found in our nation which, compared with others, has remained free from systematic, extravagant thinking.(84)

100. Condillac's philosophy may be described as Locke's thought naturalised in France. The slight modifications undergone by Locke's thought in France after Condillac's time may be ignored. The cluster of disparate data which confuse and muddle research into the activities of the soul under the guise of medicine, anatomy and chemistry add nothing to the explanation of the origin of ideas.

101. In England, Locke's philosophy was discussed by much more acute spirits than in France. Berkeley and Hume pushed it with amazing courage to its ultimate limits, that is, to idealism and scepticism. They shook the foundations of all branches of science and suggested to human nature that it might be content to doubt its own existence.

102. Only when the system based on sensation was seen to produce such unexpected consequences, and to open before mankind an abyss of nothingness which first swallowed the world of matter, and then the world of the spirit together with mankind itself, did people wake up and begin to have serious doubts about it. Perhaps the system, which had been so readily accepted and welcomed by the ordinary reading public, contained some deep-seated flaw which over-eagerness had obscured, leaving its unproven principles considered as obvious. It was thought wise to backtrack, to subject all the premisses to rigorous analysis and to submit to a minute screening those which, though not necessarily obvious, seemed at first glance to be true. The fatal flaw which inevitably produced such dire consequences might be concealed in any one of them. In short, human nature protested against this philosophy and, having been brought to the abyss by such an untrustworthy guide, recoiled in horror simply because it was impossible to continue.
At this point, when the force of nature and prompting of common sense warned mankind that such an inhuman philosophy could not be true,(85) a new Scottish school arose which took common sense as its guide and resolved to use individual reason only to explain doctrines accepted by common sense.

103. These new philosophers saw that the consequences which Berkeley and Hume derived from Locke's principles by means of close and robust argument were unassailable. This meant going back to first principles to investigate the basic, hidden flaw. But the Scottish reformers, who were dealing with clever adversaries and had to be rigorous in their argument, not surprisingly relied very little on Condillac's doctrine despite its continuing popularity.
Reid, it seems, never quotes him; Dugald Stewart generally spoke of him with contempt, calling him an annotator of Locke's work who failed to understand his master.(86) Among other remarks, he says of his philosophical style:
The clearness and simplicity of Condillac's style add to the force of this illusion, and flatter the reader with an agreeable idea of the power of his own understanding, when he finds himself so agreeably conducted through the darkest labyrinths of metaphysical science. It is to this cause I would chiefly ascribe the great popularity of his works. They may be read with as little exertion of thought as a history or a novel; and it is only when we shut the book, and attempt to express in our own words the substance of what we have gained, that we have the mortification to see our supposed acquisitions vanish into thin air.(87)

104. The problem which I raised about the origin of ideas did not occur to Dr. Reid with the generality with which I tried to expound it. He never had the chance of viewing it in such a broad perspective. This perhaps explains why such a sound thinker did not develop the argument as we might have expected.
Yet he does see it in part, and tried very hard to solve the part he did see. It is impossible to rebut the arguments of the idealists and sceptics whom he undertook to oppose without being involved in part at least in the difficulty.

105. To enable us to discover the depth at which the Scottish philosopher dealt with the problem, we first need to know the opinions he was impugning.
As I said, Condillac, deceived by the double meaning he assigned to the word sensation, maintained that the objects of sense(88) and memory are essentially the same. In other words, the object of sense is a present sensation; the object of memory, a past sensation. He thought that in this way he could reduce the two faculties to a single faculty of feeling. Using a similar argument, he reduces all other faculties of the human spirit to feeling alone since, according to him, they all have essentially identical objects which are, as he puts it, sensation transformed.

Locke had grasped that the object of memory was essentially different from that of sense. He had posited a specific distinction between the power of feeling and that of remembrance. He stated that the immediate object of memory is not a sensation, for example, of the rose smelt yesterday, but an idea, a model, a phantasm, in short a remnant, of the sensation left behind in our spirit.
Berkeley and Hume, who had perfected Locke's system in England as Condillac had done in France, tried like Condillac to reduce the two objects of sense and memory to one. They believed they could do so by assuming that the objects of sensation and memory differ only in their degree of vivacity.

106. It is odd that Dr. Reid who applied his keen intellect to the refutation of the idealism and scepticism of these two philosophers should have chosen to reject Locke's distinction between the object of the senses and of the idea.(89)

107. I was about to say that it is difficult to understand how the human spirit can think, here and now, of something which is not in any way present to it. Not by means of an idea, because Reid rejects any idea, type or sign of the thing; not by means of the thing itself, because he assumes that the object is not present. Nor do I believe that the ordinary person thinks about this as Dr. Reid does. It seems to me that any ordinary person who remembers something previously seen or felt, thinks he has present to his spirit what he has seen or experienced, but recognises it as such solely because he possesses the idea and trace of it in his feeling [App., no. 2].

108. Dr. Reid, however, does not reduce human faculties to one alone, although he does reduce their objects to one alone. Here, his system deviates completely from Condillac's. He says, after the passage I quoted above:

Elsewhere he writes:

109. However, to deal with our difficulty, we have to state what Dr. Reid means by the words 'sensation', 'memory' and 'imagination'. According to him:

110. Using words in one sense rather than another does not prejudice the truth of an argument provided care has previously been taken to define them, and they are then used only in the sense attributed to them. I shall not inquire, therefore, whether the meaning attributed by Dr. Reid to the three English words [sensation, memory and imagination], which I have translated as sensazione, memoria and immaginazione, is the same as that attributed to them in ordinary speech. Instead, I would beg the reader to note carefully the difference in concepts which he wishes to express by these words.

First, notice the difference between the first two and the third. For Reid, the first two, sensation and memory, do not mean only the perception of an ens, but in addition persuasion of the real existence of the ens (present existence is linked to sensation, past existence is linked to memory). On the other hand, by imagination he understands the faculty of perceiving only the ens without any persuasion of its present or past existence. The Schoolmen called this - more appropriately, in my view - simple apprehension.

111. We must now see whether simple apprehension of an ens, or the act of imagination, taken in Reid's sense, precedes sensation and memory, as Locke and Hume seem to maintain, or whether sensation and memory precede simple apprehension, as Reid claims.
The real issue is to explain the conflict between Reid on the one hand and Locke and Hume on the other, a conflict which highlights the problem I have mentioned. It is always the same difficulty, although it appears under a number of different guises according to the viewpoints from which the philosophers envisaged it. Let us see whether either of the two parties manages to unravel the tangled skein and find the thread to lead them out of the labyrinth.

112. Dr. Reid describes his opponents' system of ideas, as he calls it, in the following terms:
These philosophers inform us that the initial operation of the spirit is merely simple apprehension, that is, a pure concept, a naked idea devoid of any inner judgment. They also inform us that, with many such ideas occurring to our spirit, the spirit compares them with each other and, by such a comparison, senses how they resemble one another, and how they differ. We call this perception of their agreement or disagreement judgment, persuasion or knowledge.(96)
This we may take to be the final expression, in France and England, of the system of Locke and his followers.

My analysis of Condillac's system has demonstrated that it consists essentially: in first fabricating ideas, and then comparing them to compose judgments. It was here precisely that I saw and discovered the insurmountable difficulty inherent in his system. Condillac himself provided us with the arguments which led us inevitably to conclude that no idea could be formed without the intervention of an inner judgment. Consequently, ideas cannot be discussed apart from judgments; some judgment is essential to the formation of ideas. Now, as judgments can only be formed by means of ideas, we still have to explain the possibility of a judgment prior to ideas, if we accept Locke's and Condillac's view that ideas are all constructed (cf. 86-98).
This was precisely the difficulty seen by Dr. Reid, although not quite so fully. As a result, he knew perfectly well how to refute the opposing systems, but according to me was himself unable to offer a system capable of resolving the difficulty.

113. If writers listened carefully to their own consciences, they would probably escape much public censure, which seldom attacks their writings and castigates any true failing unless the authors themselves have already some fear deep down, some suspicion which mistakenly they have not dared to lay bare and acknowledge in their hearts.

114. I feel that Locke had an inkling of the opposition his system was to encounter, that is, of the difficulty which Reid would later raise against it. I have already pointed out the vagueness of his idea of substance. He is equally nonplussed when, in defining knowledge, he refuses to use the term for anything accompanied in the human mind by a judgment.(97)
I certainly do not wish to quarrel about language. However, I feel I am right in saying that either Locke is not consistent in his terminology or gives the word idea a sense different from that in standard use where we normally say that we have an idea of something and have knowledge of something. These are equivalent expressions because it is impossible to have the idea of something without having some knowledge of it. But it is contradictory to say in common language: 'I have an idea of something of which I have no knowledge whatsoever.' We have to accept therefore as a universally received statement that the idea of something always includes some knowledge of it. It would seem to follow that Locke, who realised that we cannot know anything without a judgment, also sensed that we cannot have an idea without a judgment. However, unable to explain to his own satisfaction the formation of our first ideas (a judgment prior to the ideas was an impossibility, as it in turn presupposes some prior idea), he resorted to the imaginary distinction between knowledge and idea and to the absurd notion of positing ideas without any knowledge. He had to rule out their need for any judgment.

It was Locke's fondness for systems, it seems to me, which persuaded him to think in this way. He could not have avoided such specious notions which flew in the teeth of common sense and his own good sense - which otherwise was sound and solid - without completely discarding his own system, summarised in the proposition: 'Nothing is innate in the human spirit; everything in it is acquired through sensation and reflection.'

115. Reid realised, therefore, that Locke's system was flawed and, although he did not clearly grasp where the flaw lay, was still able to put forward powerful arguments against the system.
He set out the entire problem of the origin of ideas in the following terms: 'Does simple apprehension of things precede judgment about their existence, as Locke's school would have it, or does judgment precede simple apprehension?'
He rejected the view of Locke and his followers that simple perception precedes the act of judgment.

It is acknowledged by all, that sensation must go before memory and imagination;(98) and hence it necessarily follows, that apprehension, accompanied with belief and knowledge, must go before simple apprehension, at least in the matters we are speaking of. So that here, instead of saying that the belief or knowledge is got by putting together and comparing the simple apprehensions, we ought rather to say that the simple apprehension is performed by resolving and analysing a natural and original judgment.(99)

116. The passage I have quoted is very enlightening. Dr. Reid sees that, unlike his opponents, he cannot first assume, in man, simple perception of some thing devoid of persuasion of its existence so that we become convinced of the existence of something only later by means of comparison and judgments. His opponents saw that we cannot be intimately persuaded that a thing exists unless we make a judgment about its existence. But they did not see how a person utterly devoid of ideas could make a judgment, and imagined that persuasion about the existence of things perceived was not contemporaneous with the perception of the things themselves. They held that it occurred at a later stage when we had already perceived things and had within ourselves the ideas of those things which we could compare. By making the comparison, we could judge of their existence, and thus persuade ourselves of the fact.

For Dr Reid, however, this was due solely to their attachment to the system they adopted, not to careful observation of fact.
According to Reid, practical observation independent of system shows that we perceive real external things through our senses and are immediately persuaded of their subsistence by a natural and original judgment. Having thus perceived real, subsistent things, we separate their present and past existence by a process of abstraction and proceed to view them as merely possible. This gives rise to what is called pure apprehension or pure concept of something, that is, the concept of the thing apart from the persuasion and thought of its real existence.

117. Reid maintains that this is the only possible way to arrive at the fundamentals of human cognition. Consequently, he claims that the operations of human understanding begin with synthesis rather than analysis. He adds immediately:

118. Dr. Reid's opponents have no answer to his scrupulous observation of facts. There is no doubt that simple apprehension of an object, that is, the concept of an object devoid of any persuasion about its existence,(100) is not given to us before we have perceived the body as existent and then, by an operation of our spirit, separated from it, our persuasion of its real existence and viewed it only as possible.

119. But the opposite is also true. Reid's opponents in their turn can require him to examine his own system more closely. It is not without its problems.
Their objection could run as follows: 'We are willing to suppose with you that the inner persuasion of the existence of perceived entia is not subsequent to simple apprehension of such beings. This is a kind of abstraction carried out by the judgment we make concerning their existence. We do not, however, consider reasonable your bold claim to have thereby arrived at the primary, fundamental fact proper to our spirit relative to the origin of ideas, the ultimate observable fact. You hold that the first thing we can note in our spirit is of a composite nature. You posit the persuasion of the existence of real, external things prior to their simple apprehension. In short, you consider the development of the spirit as originating from judgments, not from ideas. But we find it contradictory to affirm that the composite should be prior to the simple, and the judgment prior to the idea. Let me explain our position in more detail.

'First, you maintain that the first operation of the spirit is a judgment; this is the first fact that can be observed in our spirit.
'Having established this, you must also accept that this judgment has all the constituents of the essence of the operation of the spirit that we call a judgment; in turn, these constituents are proof that judgment is always a composite operation, that is, the end-product of a number of elements. It is never simple.

'True, you apply the adjectives natural and primal to this judgment. This is equivalent to saying that we perform it necessarily and by an intrinsic power of nature. As you say, it is a kind of suggestion prompted by that force. This, however, does not prevent its being a proper judgment, which is what you yourself call it. In fact, we do not begin to be intimately persuaded of the existence of an ens before affirming to self: "This ens exists", because the persuasion of an ens' existence is simply an interior affirmation by which we say: "This ens exists." Now, when we say interiorly: "This ens exists", there is no doubt that we are making an internal judgment whereby we attribute existence to that ens.

'Whether we say this to ourselves as a result of an internal, natural impetus constraining us to link the judgment with sensations immediately after them, or whether we form the judgment freely, is indifferent and irrelevant as far as the nature of the judgment is concerned. In either case, it does not cease to be a true, complete judgment. It appears that up to this point we agree. Moreover, we retain the same idea of a real, complete judgment even if we alter the phrase and, instead of affirming : "I judge that this ens exists", we say: "I feel that this ens exists" or "I have an inner feeling of the existence of this ens whose sensation I experience" or some even more accurate phrase.(101) It is still true that I am aware of a relationship of identity between what is sensible and existence. But feeling a relationship is the same as feeling a judgment, and feeling internally a judgment is equivalent to forming a judgment. There is no way of preventing a true, complete judgment from preceding the persuasion of existence of the external ens. This is precisely why you introduce a primal, natural judgment.

'If this is the case, you begin by describing the development of the human spirit by means of a complex and composite operation, not a simple one. In fact, every judgment is made up of a number of constituent parts. The concept of judgment common to all philosophers and yourself consists of the association of a predicate with a subject. In our example, the inner judgment we make: "This ens exists", is merely the relationship we feel between existence, which becomes the predicate, and the real thing insofar as it is felt, which becomes the subject. So we may ask: if we associate existence with sensation and thus form the inner judgment, "A sensible ens exists", is it not inevitable that we have to possess beforehand the two elements, that is, the sensible element and the idea of existence? How can you call primal the judgment which you introduce to explain how we acquire the persuasion of the existence of objects when you take primal to mean 'not preceded by any other information'? If, on the one hand, sensation is necessary to make the judgment in question and, on the other, the idea of existence which we connect with the sensation is also necessary, we have to say categorically that your judgment is not primal in our spirit. It is preceded by two more simple operations. Let us grant, by all means, that judgment follows these operations instantaneously. Nevertheless, it must be preceded by them.

120. 'Having established this, let us analyse the proper nature of the two elementary operations. The idea of existence is universal and you, with your judgment, offer no explanation for it; you presuppose it. It is an element that goes to form a judgment; it is simpler than the judgment and logically, at least, must precede it. You are wrong to criticise the method by which we explain the development of the human spirit which, according to us, begins from ideas. It is impossible to start, as you would, from a primal judgment without assuming the prior existence of some idea' [App., no. 3].

121. Reid's opponents, it must be said, offer a vigorous response as long as they have to show the impossibility of conceiving a first judgment without some prior idea. But they can never defend themselves with the same success because it is impossible to defend the proposition: 'Simple perception, that is, the pure idea of something, precedes the judgment of its real existence'.
From one point of view, this proposition does seem to be true. How can I judge that an ens exists of which I have no idea? The idea of this ens, or simple apprehension, if seen in this light, inevitably seems prior to the act of judgment which we make about its real existence.
From another point of view, experience absolutely contradicts such a tenet. Experience assures us that we first form the concrete idea of the really existent ens. Only later do we derive the abstract idea, separate from the persuasion of its real existence, which we call simple apprehension of an ens. Do we actually think of a possible horse without having first perceived a horse through our senses?

122. Neither Reid nor his opponents clearly saw this aspect of the problem. As a result, each party was able to demolish the other without being able to vindicate its own position.
Reid fused two problems into one. It is one thing to ask: 'Can we form a judgment about the existence of external things without some prior universal idea in our mind?' and another to ask: 'Does the judgment of the existence of external things need to be preceded by simple apprehension, that is, by the ideas of things themselves?'
Reid's opponents solved this second question positively and incorrectly.

In opposing them, however, Reid was not content to show that formation of the judgment about the existence of external things does not need to be preceded by the simple apprehension of things. This was sufficient to demolish their theory. It was, in fact, exactly the opposite proposition to theirs. He also set out to prove that inexplicably and mysteriously we form a primal judgment prior to any idea. This reply, which went well beyond that needed to defeat his opponents, extended the argument to a broader question. Reid was now maintaining that judgment about the existence of external objects was possible not only without the ideas of the things themselves but also without any pre-existent, universal idea in our spirit.

This undue enlargement of the original problem was Reid's undoing. After overcoming his opponents, he voluntarily chose to venture, so to speak, into the domain of error. His adversaries, unable to defend themselves, could now successfully attack him.
In fact, it is fairly evident that a judgment can only be formed if we possess some universal idea. The proposition defended by Reid was, despite his righteous zeal, exaggerated and unsustainable.
Moreover, it was easy to show his opponents that a judgment about the real existence of external things inevitably preceded their simple idea. An appeal to experience was sufficient. But it was not so easy to find a satisfactory reply to the fearful objection: 'How can I judge that something of which I have no idea really exists?'
The reply to this objection would have led the Scottish philosopher into the depths of his research. But he either despaired of finding it or felt he did not have the strength to do so. He did not in fact pursue it, but was happy enough to wreathe his primal judgment in a mysterious cloud where he attempted to conceal it from human curiosity.

123. There was only one way to solve the objection. It was necessary to devise a system in which the object considered as existing was an effect of the judgment itself, that is, the object was only present in virtue of the judgment made about it. The entire problem, therefore, was to find a kind of judgment which provided its object, that is, our idea of the thing judged, with existence, or (and this amounts to the same thing) which would produce within us the specific ideas of things.

124. Now, when we examine in turn all the species of judgments we form about things, we see clearly that as long as the judgment alights upon some quality possessed by the thing, this thing necessarily exists in our spirit prior to the judgment, and to the quality which our judgment attributes to it. However, when the judgment is such that it alights upon the very existence of the thing, the thing judged does not exist in our thought prior to this judgment, but in virtue of it. In fact, unless we think of the thing as existing (that is, as having a possible or real existence) it is nothing, it is not an object of our thought, it is not an idea. Unlike all other judgments, judgment about the existence of things produces its own object. It has a dynamic of its own, almost a creative drive which requires the philosopher's deepest intellectual meditation.(102) This object, which does not exist prior to such a judgment about it, exists in virtue of, and at least simultaneously with, the judgment itself. Such a judgment is a singular power of our understanding which focuses on something currently existing.

125. Three questions may be asked about this power: 1. how is it moved to think about something actually existing? 2. whence does it derive the universal idea of existence which it requires for such thought? 3. how does it confine the idea of existence, which is a universal idea, to some determinate thing and thus focus on this rather than the determinate, existent object.

126. The first and third questions are easily answered on the basis of our experience.
We are stimulated to think about an existing object by means of sensations. Moreover, sensations determine this object existing in our thinking. We experience sensations, and under the stimulus of this modification our spirit says to itself: this felt element exists.
The difficulty, therefore, consists only in knowing whence we derive the idea of existence which is essential to the first of our judgments, to the judgment by which we know that something external exists. This is the great epistemological problem.

127. To sum up in different words. To the difficulty, 'How can I judge that a thing exists of which I have no idea?', I answer: 'The judgment that a determinate thing exists involves two parts: 1. I think about some thing which can exist universally; 2. I think about this thing as present and as determined by all its properties.'
As long as I think about universal, completely indeterminate being, I am not judging anything. My judgment begins when I apply or determine the thought of being or of existence by means of particular qualities.
Assume now that I already have the thought of being in all its universality. In this case, I need only sensations to form the judgment, 'Such a thing exists'. They provide me with the determination of being - that universal being which I am already presumed to possess. The whole problem then comes down to explaining the origin of the idea of being which must necessarily precede every primal judgment.

128. However we come to have the idea of being, let us continue for the moment to speak on the basis of our assumption that we have it prior to every judgment we make about the actual existence of some determinate, sensible thing.
In this case, judgment about the existence of one thing or another determined by our sensations, about this body which is at present sensibly perceived, can be very easily explained, and analysed as follows.
We have a spirit which is both sensitive and intellective, that is, we are endowed with sense and understanding. Sense is the power to perceive sensible things; understanding is the faculty to perceive things as existing in themselves.

Now, anything that falls under our senses becomes an object of our understanding because we who feel are the very same as we who are endowed with understanding.
What operation will our spirit carry out upon sensible qualities when we have perceived them?
Understanding, as I said, consists in seeing things as existing in themselves. Our understanding, therefore, will now perceive sensible things existing in themselves, not in the intimate relationship they have with us in so far as they are sensations.(103)
But the act of perceiving sensible things as existing in themselves independently of us is equivalent to judging them as existing in themselves. This is tantamount to judging that there exists outside us an ens in which the sensible qualities are present, whatever form they may take, but certainly in the mode that they can be. Our primal judgment plays no part in determining this mode.

Let us focus, therefore, on the difference between the two species of judgment which we make.
Sometimes, in using our judgment, we merely think of a quality as existing in an ens which we have already conceived. Thus, when I say, 'This man is blind', I think of blindness as existing in the man, of whom I already have the idea, the man who is the subject of my judgment.
On the other hand, we sometimes use our judgment to think of an ens as adhering to certain sensible qualities. For example, we judge: 'There exists an ens determined by these specific qualities which I am presently perceiving through my senses.'
In the first species of judgment, the object of judgment is prior to the judgment itself. In the second, the object of judgment is not prior to judgment; only the elements of the judgment are prior, that is, 1. the sensations which have not yet become cognitions; 2. the idea of existence which casts its light upon them by adding being to them, and makes them become known in being and through being.

I conclude, therefore, that judgment is not always an operation exercised on some object as thought, but sometimes on the sensible elements which, through judgment itself, become objects of our thought.

129. All this enables us to solve without difficulty the two problems constituting the matter of dispute between Dr Reid and his opponents.
I. Question 1: 'Is it necessary that the simple apprehension of external objects should pre-exist the judgment made on their actual existence?'
This is not necessary; only the pre-existence of the perception of sensible qualities is necessary.

Reid's opponents arrived at their view - that the idea of a thing comes first in us and that we afterwards form the judgment of its real existence - because they had not succeeded in distinguishing clearly between sensation and idea. They confused the two processes. Realising that sensation was necessarily prior if we were to think of the existence of a body, they decided that that the idea of that body should pre-exist. If they had realised that sensation only furnishes our mind with particular sensible qualities of a thing, and that the idea of the thing, on the contrary, implies the thought of an ens furnished with sensible qualities, they would easily have recognised also that the idea of a body is unattainable without a prior judgment which links the concept of being to the particular sensible qualities furnished by sensation, and thereby forms the notion of the body determined by the sensible qualities actually perceived. This concept of body is the object of the understanding formed by our judgment itself which subsequently abstracts from this object the persuasion of its existence, leaving it as simple possibility. This species of abstraction is called simple apprehension by the Scholastics.

II. Question 2: 'Is it necessary that some universal idea should pre-exist in us prior to the primal judgment about existsence?'
Certainly, because a judgment not preceded by a universal idea is impossible. Reid's mistake was to overlook this idea. He accepted what he called a primal, mysterious, inexplicable judgment. Of course, a philosopher cannot be forbidden to accept a mysterious and completely inexplicable principle, if he so wishes, but it is not fitting that he should accept an absurd principle. In fact, a judgment without any universal idea is a contradiction in terms. It is no less contrary to the status of a philosopher that a person should accept a principle without studying and analysing the conditions which make it possible. In this case, although the principle is not shown to be absurd, at least it will remain doubtful until some study of it has been undertaken. The existence of a universal idea in us prior to the primal judgment whereby we affirm to ourselves the existence of some body, is a necessary condition for Reid's judgment.

It was therefore inadvisable to suspend the study of the fact to be analysed, that is, of the judgment whereby we judge whether something exists different from ourselves. It should have been extended to everything presupposed by this judgment, if it is to be made possible and capable of being conceived and thought.

130. Nevertheless, it is clear from what has been said that Reid's system contains sound, conclusive features relative to his opponents.
Let us suppose that Reid, advised by a friend that he was taking his supposition too far, had corrected himself on this point. His reasonable attitude would have entitled him to address his opponents fairly vigorously: 'I willingly grant that the internal judgment which we make upon the real existence of things impinging upon our senses comprises two basic elements, that is, sensation and the idea of existence. However you must admit that as soon as we experience sensations, our intelligent nature compels us to admit the presence of an ens. In other words, we have to make what I call the primary, natural judgment which although not prior to all ideas (this would be contradictory) is at least prior to all other judgments.'

In fact, the very core of Reid's system consists in the emphasis he puts on the way the human spirit, as soon as it receives sensations from external agents, inevitably forms a judgment about their existence 'by a simple act' as he says, but not, as he goes on to say, 'by a completely indefinable act.'(104)
The argument I have put forward in the previous article shows that there is no need to resort to any distinctive, inexplicable principle, a kind of arcane power, a philosophical mystery.

131. If Reid had clearly seen the basic failings of earlier philosophical systems, he would not have insisted that ideas should precede judgments. He could have ventured further and, in his own phrase, used a more refined chemistry to analyse the simple apprehension of the object which, according to his opponents' supposition, is prior to persuasion and judgment of its existence.
He would also have placed them in difficulty with a much stronger line of argument. 'You claim', he could have said to them, 'that the simple apprehension of an object is prior to the judgment we form about its real existence. You therefore describe the development of the human spirit by supposing that the ideas of things exist first. Judgments are then formed from them.
'This behaviour of our intelligence is a real problem since, in my view, you cannot have an idea of anything except by means of a judgment.

'To discover whether my statement is true, let us get down to details. Let us take the idea or simple apprehension of a horse. How can I think of a horse independently of its present or past? Or to put it another way: how can I have a simple apprehension of it, how can I think about it? If you tell me that I form the idea of the horse distinct from its actual or past existence by the mental act called abstraction, you presuppose that I have previously had a perception of some actually existing horse and have performed the act of abstraction on this perception of the concrete object. You grant, therefore, that I have the persuasion of the horse's actual existence before the basic apprehension. So you grant that before I have the simple apprehension of the horse, I have already judged for myself that it subsists. In fact, what you have written shows how you resort to abstractions when you attempt to explain the simple ideas of things. You contradict yourself when you say, on the one hand, that we form our simple ideas of things by means of abstraction and, on the other, that our ideas of things precede all judgments about them. In fact, abstraction can only be exercised on the perception of an individual existing idea for whose formation a judgment is required, that is, the judgment that the thing exists.'

132. He could further strengthen his argument by adding: 'You say that a simple idea precedes our judgments.' I reply that analysis of the simple idea of a thing shows that the idea contains a judgment. Let us stay with the idea of a horse. When you think of a horse, even if you exclude completely its present or past existence, what does your mind think about? Does it think of something so basic that it cannot be broken down into a number of other ideas, or does the idea of the horse derive from several ideas which can be distinguished from one another? Certainly, if I think of the idea of a horse, I am thinking of 1. an ens and 2. of all the constitutive elements of this ens which make the idea of this ens less vague and indeterminate for me. In fact, they make it more precise and assign it to the particular ens called horse.
On analysis, therefore, I discover that my idea of the horse is the result of two sets of ideas: 1. the universal idea of ens; 2. the ideas constituting the horse which together form the idea of the nature of the horse. This idea is less extensive than the universal idea. The idea of the horse, therefore, derives both from a universal, totally extended idea, and from another that is more limited.

Let us see how these two ideas are associated in our idea of the horse, that is, how together they form a single idea.
A moment's thought shows that the less extensive idea is conceived by us as existing in the more extensive. In other words, the idea of the horse's nature is conceived by us in the idea of ens, or again (which amounts to the same thing), we conceive the horse in the class of entia; or, again, having the idea of a horse is the same as thinking of an ens endowed with those determinations which make it a horse.
This analysis of the idea of a horse shows that it includes and comprises everything needed for a complete judgment.
Two terms are required for a judgment, one more extensive, the other less. In the concept of a horse, we have in fact found the universal idea of ens, the more extensive term, and the idea of the constitutive of the horse, the less extensive term.
A further requirement is that the less extensive term be conceived in the more extensive. We have seen, in fact, that we conceive the nature of the horse, the less extensive idea, in the idea of ens, the more extensive.
The simple apprehension of a finite thing is itself therefore a complex idea which conceals a judgment. It is one of those ideas that we can only make present to our mind by comparing and linking them with other ideas or perceptions.
The proposition: 'The simple apprehension of things is prior to judgments about them because the apprehension itself is only the product of a judgment' is thus untenable.

133. It is obvious that the participants in the controversy which I have outlined are as incapable of building as they are expert at destroying.
Their problem can be reduced to the following ultimate terms:
Locke says to Reid: 'Ideas must be prior to judgments. It is absurd to admit a comparison between two things before these things exist.' His reason seems obvious. Reid answers Locke: 'Judgments are prior to ideas because it is impossible to form the idea of a thing before judging that it exists' and his reason, too, seems obvious. How can these two statements, which together seem both correct and contradictory, be reconciled.

We saw earlier that the problem to which they gave rise was, in the last analysis, that of discovering the origin of the idea of existence. Let us hope that the system which I shall explain more fully below may solve the important question which forms the subject of this Essay.

(84) In southern Italy, there is still (1829) a certain penchant for the thought of Descartes and Malebranche, especially in the State of Rome. This, I think, is due to the works of Gerdil and other enlightened thinkers who have modified and perfected those systems of thought. In Vico's homeland, we have a flourishing tradition of bold thinkers such as Miceli, Galluppi, etc. Moreover, it seems that a kind of eclecticism is generally predominant in Italy. In the Lombardo-Veneto kingdom, Fr. Soave, with the purest of intentions, caused a great deal of harm by disseminating Condillac's philosophy and by reducing philosophy to a tenuous thread which, although it attracts the ordinary person by its apparent simplicity, prompts others, who can never be philosophers, to imagine that they are such. It also sows seeds of contempt for great problems which far surpass the loquacious, tendentious mediocrity of these pseudo-philosophers. Nevertheless, there were a number of powerful thinkers in this part of Italy who had escaped the general malaise and, with their own particular drive, had applied themselves to the most profound issues; Fr. Ermenegildo Pini, author of the Protologia, is for me outstanding in this respect.

(85) The need for this was inevitably felt more in Scotland than elsewhere because, as Stewart assures us, the idealism of Berkeley and Hume had made wide inroads into all the schools in that country and was generally accepted. Histoire abrégée des sciences métaphysiques, etc. [A General View of the Progress of Metaphysical, Ethical and Political Philosophy], 3, p. 191.

(86) D. Stewart was extremely well-disposed towards Locke and spoke of him fondly. He was, after all, a fellow-countryman. In a number of passages, however, he admits the insufficiency of Locke's system, which contained serious flaws. He says: 'With those who attach themselves to that author, as an infallible guide in metaphysics, it is vain to argue' (Histoire abrégée des sciences métaphysiques, etc., 3, part 3). Even more remarkable, considering the high opinion which Stewart shows for Locke in so many passages and his contempt for Condillac, is the following open admission: 'The difference between Locke's theory and that which derives all our ideas from sensation alone (Condillac's) is more apparent than real' (Éléments de la Philosophie de l'Esprit humain [Elements of the Philosophy of the Human Mind], vol. 1, part 4). Mainly for this reason, I thought that by dealing at length with Condillac, who has had such direct influence upon us, I could examine Locke's philosophy more quickly without repeating the same remarks. Moreover, whatever else I needed to say about particular aspects in Locke's theory is dealt with in discussing the work of Reid who refutes several basic propositions of Locke, in addition to those of Berkeley and Hume.

(87) Histoire abrégée des sciences métaphysiques, morales et politiques, etc., part 3.

(88) Sense object is not a correct term; on the contrary, the inaccuracy of this expression gave rise to a number of errors. Anyone can see that a large variety of sensations, at least all those involving mere pleasure or pain, do not have any object. They are simple and (if it can be expressed in this way) they are their own object. They have a cause outside themselves but not an object. However, until I have the chance to clarify this argument, I am compelled to use ordinary language to express my thoughts, especially when expounding the systems of others who make liberal use of such phrases.

(89) Dr. Reid, it would seem, is not always precise in defining the opinions of the philosophers whom he is refuting. In his Inquiry into the Human Mind on the Principles of Common Sense (Section 3: 5), it would appear that he attributes equally to Locke, Berkeley and Hume two contradictory views: 1. the immediate object of memory is merely an idea of a sensation, an image, a model of the sensation and therefore essentially distinct from it. This essential distinction between the object of sense and memory results in an essential distinction between the two powers; 2. sensation and the object of memory differ solely in the degree of power and intensity with which the spirit perceives them. This simple distinction between different degrees of power would rule out the claim that the object of both faculties is not one and the same. Thus, it would appear that the two faculties were not fundamentally distinct.It is possible - in fact it is the case - that these writers are not consistent in their definitions. In one passage, they distinguish sensation from the object of memory solely by the degree of intensity of the percipient spirit, in another they appear to hold that the object of memory is not a fainter sensation, but the idea of a sensation. Hume's way of expressing himself certainly leads one to believe, rightly, that he is inconsistent. For example, in his Essay on the Origin of Ideas he sometimes says that the idea is merely a fainter sensation, at other times, he describes it as a perception of the soul which reflects on its sensations. But reflection by the soul on its sensations is not merely a fainter sensation. This reflection involves more activity than in any simple sensation. Nevertheless, I have felt obliged to attribute the first view to Locke and the second to Berkeley and Hume because this seems more noticeable in their writings, their main thrust, as it were. When they express the opposite view, they seem to say it unwillingly, because they lack more precise terminology.

(90) Recherches sur l'entendement humain [the French translation of Inquiry into etc.], Section 3

(91) Recherches sur l'entendement humain, Section 3.

(92) Ibid., Section 5.

(93) Note how close this way of speaking is to the theory of transformed sensation. Nevertheless, Reid's view, as I mentioned, posits an intrinsic difference between these faculties. In any event, the remark I made earlier about Condillac's expression transformed sensation is relevant here also. It is not a philosophical expression because the principal idea, based on a metaphor, is vague and deceptive.

(94) Imagining a sensible thing or having an idea of it are very different, although Reid confuses them here. Image or phantasm is characteristic of an animal, idea of an intelligent being. This idea is the Scholastics' simple apprehension. Nevertheless, the image constitutes the positive, natural element of perceptions of corporeal things, which I shall explain more fully elsewhere [cf. Foreword, p. zz ].

(95) Recherches sur l'entendement humain, section 3.

(96) Recherches sur l'entendement humain, Section 4 [cf. Foreword, p. zz].

(97) Book 2, c. 2. Laromiguière, in his Leçons de Philosophie, part 2, lesson 1, lists the word knowledge, which he thinks barbarous in French, amongst the synonyms for idea. In fact, the meaning he gives to the word idea corresponds exactly to what Locke calls knowledge, as we can see by comparing the passages I have quoted earlier from the two authors.

(98) Note carefully the meaning that Dr. Reid gives to the expression imagination. He means in this instance the faculty of simple apprehension, that is, the power enabling us to conceive a thing as possible, apart from subsistence, unlike sensation and memory. Sensation links to the perceived thing persuasion of its present subsistence; memory links persuasion of past subsistence. Without any doubt, such expressions are not precise, as I indicated earlier. This imprecision gave Dugald Stewart the opportunity to embark on a long discussion (Chap. 3 of his Elements of Philosophy) to reveal whether imagination had associated with it persuasion of the existence of anything. This shows how vagueness in the use of terms multiplies problems to no purpose! Stewart rightly remarks that if our imagination of something is very vivid, we conceive the thing as present even if we know speculatively that it has no existence. Now it is precisely with this speculative knowledge of the non-existence of the thing that we have to deal. What we are discussing is the speculative apprehension of the thing, if one wishes to call it that, by means of which we study the thing in itself dispassionately, without the use of any vivid imagination in examining its nature, and without our being interested in its existence or non-existence. This is what we call simple apprehension of something. It is a faculty inappropriately called imagination. If we wish to be precise, we cannot even say that merely by simple apprehension of the thing we know that something does not exist. We think neither of its existence nor non-existence. We consider it merely as something possible. Strictly speaking, this faculty is called intellect.

(99) Recherches sur l'entendement humain, Section 4.

(100) The argument hinges especially on corporeal entia which are the first real things, different from ourselves, which we perceive externally.

(101) A more accurate expression for this primal judgment would be: 'The sensation which I experience requires some existent thing (different from me).' I must also point out that the phrase, 'This object exists', would involve a twofold repetition of the idea of existence. When I say this object, I am already referring to something I have perceived as existing. As a result, the phrase does not indicate a simple, primal judgment. Merely pronouncing the phrase, this object, presupposes a formed judgment.

(102) St. Thomas's view was somewhat similar; he recognised that there is always a primal operation by our spirit which produces for itself its own object. He says: Prima ejus actio (intellectus) per speciem est formatio sui objecti, quo formato, intelligit; simul tamen tempore ipse format et formatum est, et simul intelligit [The intellect's first action is to form through a species its object; then it understands. At one and the same time, it forms and the object is formed, and it understands] (De natura verbi intellectus).

(103) I use the word sensation to express the modification that our spirit undergoes in perceiving sensible qualities; I use the phrase sensible qualities when I consider such qualities in their relationship to the bodies to which they refer.This distinction is based on the analysis of sensation. In fact, when our sensory power undergoes some modification and, consequently, our spirit experiences a sensation, we are aware of two things: 1. that which we are experiencing: pleasure, pain, etc.; 2. our passivity. To be aware of our passivity necessarily implies the idea of an action done in us without us. Such an action encompasses something distinct from us. Its presence occurs within us but is neither ourselves nor an effect of our activity. Granted this, and granted that we conceive a determined action, we also conceive all that is necessary to conceive an action. Consequently we also conceive an agent distinct from ourselves. This agent which we conceive does not remain indeterminate for us, but is determined by the effect which it produces in us. This effect, this action within us, are the sensible qualities which we call sensations, in so far as they are within us and modify us.

(104) Recherches sur l'entendement humain, Section 5.