Le Positivisme anglais/1/2

1864 (p. 18-28).

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III ►

bookLe Positivisme anglaisHippolyte Taine1864ParisVTaine - Le Positivisme anglais, 1864.djvuTaine - Le Positivisme anglais, 1864.djvu/1018-28

II

Ceci posé, remarquez que toutes ces sciences, objet de la logique, ne sont que des amas de propositions, et que toute proposition ne fait que lier ou séparer un sujet et un attribut, c’est-à-dire un nom et un autre nom, une qualité et une substance, c’est-à-dire une chose et une autre chose. Cherchons donc ce que nous entendons par une chose, ce que nous désignons par un nom ; en d’autres termes, ce que nous connaissons dans les objets, ce que nous lions et séparons, ce qui est la matière de toutes nos propositions et de toutes nos sciences. Il y a un point par lequel se ressemblent toutes nos connaissances. Il y a un élément commun qui, perpétuellement répété, compose toutes nos idées. Il y a un petit cristal primitif qui, indéfiniment et diversement ajouté à lui-même, engendre la masse totale, et qui, une fois connu, nous enseigne d’avance les lois et la composition des corps complexes qu’il a formés.

Or, quand nous regardons attentivement l’idée que nous nous faisons d’une chose, qu’y trouvons-nous ? Prenez d’abord les substances, c’est-à-dire les corps et les esprits^[1] Cette table est brune, longue, large et haute de trois pieds à l’œil : cela signifie qu’elle fait une petite tache dans le champ de la vision, en d’autres termes qu’elle produit une certaine sensation dans le nerf optique. Elle pèse dix livres : cela signifie qu’il faudra pour la soulever un effort moindre que pour un poids de onze livres, et plus grand que pour un poids de neuf livres, en d’autres termes qu’elle produit une certaine sensation musculaire. Elle est dure et carrée : cela signifie encore qu’étant poussée, puis parcourue par la main, elle y suscitera deux espèces distinctes de sensations musculaires. Et ainsi de suite. Quand j’examine de près ce que je sais d’elle, je trouve que je ne sais rien d’autre que les impressions qu’elle fait sur moi. Notre idée d’un corps ne comprend pas autre chose : nous ne connaissons de lui que les sensations qu’il excite en nous ; nous le déterminons par l’espèce, le nombre et l’ordre de ces sensations ; nous ne savons rien de sa nature intime, ou s’il en a une ; nous affirmons simplement qu’il est la cause inconnue de ces sensations. Quand nous disons qu’en l’absence de nos sensations il a duré, nous voulons dire simplement que si, pendant ce temps-là, nous nous étions trouvés à sa portée, nous aurions eu les sensations que nous n’avons pas eues. Nous ne le définissons jamais que par nos impressions présentes ou passées, futures ou possibles, complexes ou simples. Cela est si vrai, que des philosophes comme Berkeley ont soutenu avec vraisemblance que la matière est un être imaginaire, et que tout l’univers sensible se réduit à un ordre de sensations. À tout le moins, il est tel pour notre connaissance, et les jugements qui composent nos sciences ne portent que sur les impressions par lesquelles il se manifeste à nous.

Il en est de même pour l’esprit. Nous pouvons bien admettre qu’il y a en nous une âme, un moi, un sujet ou « récipient » des sensations et de nos autres façons d’être, distinct de ces sensations et de nos autres façons d’être ; mais nous n’en connaissons rien. « Tout ce que nous apercevons en nous-mêmes, dit Mill^[2], c’est une certaine trame d états intérieurs, une série d’impressions^[3], sensations, pensées, émotions et volontés. » Nous n’avons pas plus d’idée de l’esprit que de la matière ; nous ne pouvons rien dire de plus sur lui que sur la matière. Ainsi les substances, quelles qu’elles soient, corps ou esprit, en nous ou hors de nous, ne sont jamais pour nous que des tissus plus ou moins compliqués, plus ou moins réguliers, dont nos impressions ou manières d’être forment tous les fils.

Et cela est encore bien plus visible pour les attributs que pour les substances. Quand je dis que la neige est blanche, je veux dire par là que, lorsque la neige est présente à ma vue, j’ai la sensation de blancheur. Quand je dis que le feu est chaud, je veux dire par là que, lorsque le feu est à portée de mon corps, j’ai la sensation de chaleur. « Quand nous disons d’un esprit qu’il est dévot ou superstitieux, ou méditatif, ou gai, nous voulons dire simplement que les idées, les émotions, les volontés désignées par ces mots reviennent fréquemment dans la série de ses manières d’être^[4]. » Quand nous disons que les corps sont pesants, divisibles, mobiles, nous voulons dire simplement qu’abandonnés à eux-mêmes, ils tomberont ; que, tranchés, ils se sépareront ; que, poussés, ils se mettront en mouvement ; c’est-à-dire qu’en telle et telle circonstance ils produiront telle ou telle sensation sur nos muscles ou sur notre vue. Toujours un attribut désigne une de nos manières d’être ou une série de nos manières d’être. En vain nous les déguisons en les groupant, en les cachant sous des mots abstraits, en les divisant, en les transformant de telle sorte que souvent nous avons peine à les reconnaître : toutes les fois que nous regardons au fond de nos mots et de nos idées, nous les y trouvons, et nous n’y trouvons pas autre chose. « Décomposez, dit Mill, une proposition abstraite ; par exemple : Une personne généreuse est digne d’honneur^[5]. — Le mot généreux désigne certains états habituels d’esprit et certaines particularités habituelles de conduite, c’est-à-dire des manières d’être intérieures et des faits extérieurs sensibles. Le mot honneur exprime un sentiment d’approbation et d’admiration suivi à l’occasion par les actes extérieurs correspondants. Le mot digne indique que nous approuvons l’action d’honorer. Toutes ces choses sont des phénomènes ou états d’esprit suivis ou accompagnés de faits sensibles. » Ainsi nous avons beau nous tourner de tous côtés, nous restons dans le même cercle. Que l’objet soit un attribut ou une substance, qu’il soit complexe ou abstrait, composé ou simple, son étoffe pour nous est la même : nous n’y mettons que nos manières d’être. Notre esprit est dans la nature comme un thermomètre est dans une chaudière : nous définissons les propriétés de la nature par les impressions de notre esprit, comme nous désignons les états de la chaudière par les variations du thermomètre. Nous ne savons de l’un et de l’autre que des états et des changements ; nous ne composons l’un et l’autre que de données isolées et transitoires : une chose n’est pour nous qu’un amas de phénomènes. Ce sont là les seuls éléments de notre science : partant, tout l’effort de notre science sera d’ajouter des faits l’un à l’autre, ou de lier un fait à un fait.

↑ It is certain, then, that a part of our notion of a body consists of the notion of a number of sensations of our own, or of other sentient beings, habitually occuring simultaneously. My conception of the table at which I am writing is compounded of its visible form and size, which are complex sensations of sight ; its tangible form and size, which are complex sensations of our organs of touch and of our muscles ; its weight, which is also a sensation of touch and of the muscles ; its colour, which is a sensation of sight ; its hardness, which is a sensation of the muscles ; its composition, which is another word for all the varieties of sensation which we receive under various circumstances from the wood of which it is made ; and so forth. All or most of these various sensations frequently are, and, as we learn by experience, always might be experienced simultaneously, or in many different orders of succession, at our own choice : and hence the thought of any one of them makes us think of the others, and the whole becomes mentally amalgamated into one mixed state of consciousness, which, in the language of the school of Locke and Hartley, is termed a complex Idea.
↑ For, as our conception of a body is that of an unknown exciting cause of sensations, so our conception of a mind is that of an unknown recipient, or percipient, of them ; and not of them alone, but of all our other feelings. As body is the mysterious something which excites the mind to feel, so mind is the mysterious something which feels and thinks. It is unnecessary to give in the case of mind, as we gave in the case of matter, a particular statement of the sceptical system by which its existence as a Thing in itself, distinct from the series of what are denominated its states, is called in question. But it is necessary to remark, that on the inmost nature of the thinking principle, as well as on the inmost nature of matter, we are, and with our faculties must always remain entirely in the dark. All which we are aware of, even in our own minds, is ( in the words of Mr. Mill ) a certain “ thread of consciousness ” ; a series of feelings, that is, of sensations, thoughis, émotions, and volitions, more or less numerous and complicated.
↑ “Feelings states of consciousness.”
↑ Every attribute of a mind consists either in being itself affected in a certain way, or affecting other minds in a certain way. Considered in itself, we can predicate nothing of it but the series of its own feelings. When we say of any mind, that it is devout, or superstitions, or meditative, or cheerful, we mean that the ideas, emotions, or volitions implied in those words, form a frequently recurring part of the series of feelings, or states of consciousness, which fill up the sentient existence of that mind. In addition, however, to those attributes of a mind which are grounded on its own states of feeling, attributes may also be ascribed to it, in the same manner as to a body, grounded on the feelings which it excites in other minds. A mind does not, indeed, like a body, excite sensations, but it may excite thoughts or emotions. The most important example of attributes ascribed on this ground, is the employment of terms expressive of approbation of blame. When, for example, we say of any character, or ( in other words ) of any mind, that it is admirable, we mean that the contemplation of it excites the sentiment of admiration ; and indeed somewhat more, for the word implies that we not only feel admiration, but approve that sentiment in ourselves. In some cases, under the semblance of a single attribute, two are really predicated : one of them, a state of the mind itself, the other, a state with which other minds are affected by thinking of it. As when we say of any one that he is generous, the word generosity expresses a certain state of mind, but being a term of praise, it also expresses that this state of mind excites in us another mental state, called approbation. The assertion made, therefore, is twofold, and of the following purport : Certain feelings form habitually a part of this person’s sentient existence ; and the idea of those feelings of his excites the sentiment of approbation in ourselves or others.
↑ Take the following example : A generous person is worthy of honour. Who would expect to recognize here a case of coexistence between phenomena ? But so it is. The attribute which causes a person to be termed generous, is ascribed to him on the ground of states of his mind, and particulars of his conduct : both are phenomena ; the former are facts of internal consciousness, the latter, so far as distinct from the former, are physical facts, or perceptions of the senses. Worthy of honour, admits a similar analysis. Honour, as here used, means a state of approving and admiring emotion, followed on occasion by corresponding outward acts. “ Worthy of honour ” connotes all this, together with our approval of the act of showing honour. All these are phenomena, states of internal consciousness, accompanied or followed by physical facts. When we say, A generous person is worthy of honour, we affirm coexistence between the two complicated phenomena connoted by the two terms respectively. We affirm, that wherever and whenever the inward feelings and outward facts implied in the word generosity have place, then and there the existence and manifestation of an inward feeling, honour, would be followed in our minds by another inward feeling, approval.

[p19-1] It is certain, then, that a part of our notion of a body consists of the notion of a number of sensations of our own, or of other sentient beings, habitually occuring simultaneously. My conception of the table at which I am writing is compounded of its visible form and size, which are complex sensations of sight ; its tangible form and size, which are complex sensations of our organs of touch and of our muscles ; its weight, which is also a sensation of touch and of the muscles ; its colour, which is a sensation of sight ; its hardness, which is a sensation of the muscles ; its composition, which is another word for all the varieties of sensation which we receive under various circumstances from the wood of which it is made ; and so forth. All or most of these various sensations frequently are, and, as we learn by experience, always might be experienced simultaneously, or in many different orders of succession, at our own choice : and hence the thought of any one of them makes us think of the others, and the whole becomes mentally amalgamated into one mixed state of consciousness, which, in the language of the school of Locke and Hartley, is termed a complex Idea.

[p22-2] For, as our conception of a body is that of an unknown exciting cause of sensations, so our conception of a mind is that of an unknown recipient, or percipient, of them ; and not of them alone, but of all our other feelings. As body is the mysterious something which excites the mind to feel, so mind is the mysterious something which feels and thinks. It is unnecessary to give in the case of mind, as we gave in the case of matter, a particular statement of the sceptical system by which its existence as a Thing in itself, distinct from the series of what are denominated its states, is called in question. But it is necessary to remark, that on the inmost nature of the thinking principle, as well as on the inmost nature of matter, we are, and with our faculties must always remain entirely in the dark. All which we are aware of, even in our own minds, is ( in the words of Mr. Mill ) a certain “ thread of consciousness ” ; a series of feelings, that is, of sensations, thoughis, émotions, and volitions, more or less numerous and complicated.

[3] “Feelings states of consciousness.”

[p24-4] Every attribute of a mind consists either in being itself affected in a certain way, or affecting other minds in a certain way. Considered in itself, we can predicate nothing of it but the series of its own feelings. When we say of any mind, that it is devout, or superstitions, or meditative, or cheerful, we mean that the ideas, emotions, or volitions implied in those words, form a frequently recurring part of the series of feelings, or states of consciousness, which fill up the sentient existence of that mind. In addition, however, to those attributes of a mind which are grounded on its own states of feeling, attributes may also be ascribed to it, in the same manner as to a body, grounded on the feelings which it excites in other minds. A mind does not, indeed, like a body, excite sensations, but it may excite thoughts or emotions. The most important example of attributes ascribed on this ground, is the employment of terms expressive of approbation of blame. When, for example, we say of any character, or ( in other words ) of any mind, that it is admirable, we mean that the contemplation of it excites the sentiment of admiration ; and indeed somewhat more, for the word implies that we not only feel admiration, but approve that sentiment in ourselves. In some cases, under the semblance of a single attribute, two are really predicated : one of them, a state of the mind itself, the other, a state with which other minds are affected by thinking of it. As when we say of any one that he is generous, the word generosity expresses a certain state of mind, but being a term of praise, it also expresses that this state of mind excites in us another mental state, called approbation. The assertion made, therefore, is twofold, and of the following purport : Certain feelings form habitually a part of this person’s sentient existence ; and the idea of those feelings of his excites the sentiment of approbation in ourselves or others.

[p26-5] Take the following example : A generous person is worthy of honour. Who would expect to recognize here a case of coexistence between phenomena ? But so it is. The attribute which causes a person to be termed generous, is ascribed to him on the ground of states of his mind, and particulars of his conduct : both are phenomena ; the former are facts of internal consciousness, the latter, so far as distinct from the former, are physical facts, or perceptions of the senses. Worthy of honour, admits a similar analysis. Honour, as here used, means a state of approving and admiring emotion, followed on occasion by corresponding outward acts. “ Worthy of honour ” connotes all this, together with our approval of the act of showing honour. All these are phenomena, states of internal consciousness, accompanied or followed by physical facts. When we say, A generous person is worthy of honour, we affirm coexistence between the two complicated phenomena connoted by the two terms respectively. We affirm, that wherever and whenever the inward feelings and outward facts implied in the word generosity have place, then and there the existence and manifestation of an inward feeling, honour, would be followed in our minds by another inward feeling, approval.

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