CHAPTER IX.

KANT'S OPINION OF THE ARGUMENTS PROVING THE SUBSTANTIALITY OF THE SOUL.

51. The psychological arguments in favor of the substantiality of the soul are mere paralogisms, in Kant's opinion; although they prove an ideal substance, they can never lead to a real substance. Besides the arguments with which this philosopher attacks the psychological proof of the substantiality of the soul, he had also a personal argument, which, considering the weakness of the human heart, was very powerful. He had either to place the substantiality of the soul in doubt, or else consent to the ruin of his whole system. "It would be," he says, "a great and even the only stumbling-block in our whole _critique_, if there were a possibility of demonstrating _a priori_ that all thinking beings are in themselves simple substances, and (which is a consequence of the principle of this demonstration) are inseparably accompanied by personality and the consciousness of their existence distinct from all matter. For, in this case, if we had taken a single step out of the world of the senses, we should have entered into the field of the _noumena_, and no one would dispute our right to extend farther into it, to build in it, and, according to each one's good luck, to take possession of it."[43]

[43] Von den Paralogismen der reinen Vernunft, p. 297.

52. In Kant's conception, the first paralogism of pure psychology in favor of the substantiality of the soul is the following:--"Every thing, the representation of which is the _absolute substance_ of our judgments, and which cannot serve as a determination of any thing else, is a substance. The _me_, as thinking being, is the absolute substance of all possible judgments, and this representation of itself cannot be the predicate of any thing else; therefore the _me_, as thinking being, is a substance."

These are the terms in which he presents the psychological reasoning which he proposes to attack, in the first edition of his _Critic of Pure Reason_; in the second edition, wishing to be more clear, or, perhaps, more obscure, he expresses the same argument in these words:--"That which cannot be thought otherwise than as subject, does not exist otherwise than as subject, and is therefore substance. Now a thinking being, regarded merely as such, cannot be thought otherwise than as subject. Therefore it exists only as such, that is, as substance." We must confess that if psychology could find no clearer expounders than Kant, and should have to use in its demonstrations the forms which this philosopher employs in these passages, it would have but a small number of proselytes, for the simple reason that very few could understand its language. I am sure that but few readers would be convinced by the syllogisms proving the substantiality of the soul, such as Kant presents them; in this way there is a great advantage in the position of the philosopher; for he has to prove that an argument, the force of which has not been felt, has no force. But let us suppose the philosopher to descend from the Olympus of incomprehensible abstractions, and deign to use the humble language of mortals, presenting the psychological argument under a more simple form, who knows but what the conviction which it would produce would be somewhat more difficult to destroy? Let us see.

53. A substance is a being remaining identical with itself, a permanent reality in which different modifications occur. But there is within me this reality which, remaining identical, has a variety of thoughts, acts of the will, sentiments, and sensations, as is revealed by consciousness. Therefore that which is within me is a substance.

I defy all the philosophers in the world to point out a false, or even a doubtful proposition in this syllogism, or to show a fault in the consequence, without placing themselves in open contradiction with the testimony of consciousness on the one hand, and with all the laws of human reason on the other.

54. Kant pretends that the argument in favor of the substantiality of the soul is not conclusive, because the pure categories, and consequently that of substance also, have absolutely no objective value, except in so far as applied to the diversity of an intuition subject to them: that is to say, the conception of substance is a purely logical function, without any objective value or meaning except as referred to sensible things, and as soon as we leave the sphere of sensibility, it can lead to no result. It is evident that the substantiality of the soul cannot be the object of sensible intuition; consequently, to apply to the soul the idea of substance is to extend the conception beyond what its nature allows. It must be confessed that Kant's reasoning is conclusive, if we admit his principles; and here we have a proof of the necessity of combating certain theories, which, because they are in the realm of abstractions, seem innocent, but in reality are most dangerous, on account of the results to which they lead. Such is the system of Kant as denying the objective value of the pure categories, and this is why I have combated it,[44] demonstrating: I. That indeterminate conceptions, and the general principles founded on them, have an objective value beyond the field of sensible experience, in respect to beings which are in nowise subject to our intuition; II. That it is not true that we have only sensible intuition, for we have intuitive knowledge of a pure intellectual order, above the sphere of sensibility. This doctrine overthrows the whole of Kant's argument, for it destroys its foundation.

[44] See Bk. IV., Chs. XIII., XIV., XV., XVI., XXI., XXII.

55. The German philosopher seems to have perceived the weak point in his reasoning, and therefore he tries to give the psychological argument in such terms as to show a transition from the ideal order to the real, keeping out of sight the point which unites things so distant. His language is purely ideological: "Every thing, the _representation_ of which is the absolute substance of our judgments, and which cannot serve as a _determination_ of any thing else, is a substance." Observe that he defines substance by the _representation_ and the incapacity of serving as a _determination_ of any thing else; that is, by purely ideological or dialectic attributes. The form which he employs in the second edition suffers from the same defect. "That which cannot be _thought_ otherwise than as _subject_, does not exist otherwise than as subject, and is, therefore, substance." Why does he not tell us that the substance here spoken of is a permanent being, in which the modifications are realized, but which remains identical with itself? Why does he speak only of _representation_, of _thought_, of the _determination_ or predicate? Because it helped his purpose to present the argument as a sophism in which there is a transition from one order to another entirely different order; because it was for his interest to give an obscure form, so that he could make the following observations:--"In the major, a being is spoken of which can be thought under any view in general, and consequently, also, as it is given in the intuition. But, in the minor, the same being is spoken of in so far as it is regarded as subject, in relation only to thought and the unity of consciousness, but not at the same time in relation to the intuition by which the unity is given to the thought as its object. Consequently the conclusion follows only by a fallacy, _per sophisma figuræ dictionis_." And in a note he says: "Thought is taken in the two premises in an entirely different sense; in the major, as belonging to an object in general, and such, consequently, as it may be given in the intuition; but in the minor only as it is in relation to the consciousness of self, where it is not thought in any object, but is merely represented in relation to itself, as subject, as the form of the thought. In the first case, a thing is spoken of which can only be thought as subject; but, in the second, thought is spoken of, not things, since abstraction is made of all objects; and in the thought the _me_ always serves as subject of the consciousness; hence the conclusion which follows is not, that I cannot exist otherwise than as subject, but only, that I cannot make use of myself in the thought of my existence, otherwise than as subject of the judgment, which is an identical proposition, revealing absolutely nothing concerning the manner of my existence.[45] It makes one indignant to see a man attempt, by such a confusion of ideas and of words, to rob the human mind of its existence; for it amounts to the same thing, to deny that it is a substance. It makes one indignant to see a philosopher pretend, by such an absurd confusion, to attack one of the clearest, most evident, and most irresistible arguments which can be presented to human reason. I thought yesterday, I think to-day: in all the variety of my situations, I find myself the same and not another; this reality, which remains identical in the midst of diversity, I call my soul; therefore my soul is a permanent reality, the subject of modifications; therefore it is a substance. Can any thing be clearer?"

[45] Critik der reinen Vernunft, p. 298.

56. Psychology does, it is true, make use of the general idea of substance in proving the substantiality of the soul: but it appeals to a fact of experience, to the testimony of consciousness, in order to apply this idea to the present case. What does Kant mean when he pretends to have demonstrated that the conception of a thing which can exist of itself as subject, but not as mere attribute, does not involve any objective reality? When he speaks of _subject_, does he mean a real subject, the subject of modifications? Then the soul is a subject; but we do not say that it is a subject _only_; we conceive its reality under this aspect without, therefore, denying that it has other characters: on the contrary, we expressly acknowledge that it is an active principle, which implies something more that the mere subject of modifications, for this last is a passive, rather than an active, quality. If by subject Kant understands the logical subject, we deny that this is exclusively the character of the soul in such a way that it cannot logically be the attribute or predicate of a proposition.

57. "The conception of a thing," says Kant, "which can exist as its own subject, but not as a mere predicate, draws with it no objective reality; that is, one cannot know whether any object corresponds to it, since one cannot conceive the possibility of such a manner of existing, consequently there is absolutely no cognition. In order that it may indicate under the denomination of substance, an object which may be given, in order that it may be a cognition, a constant intuition must be placed at the foundation, as the indispensable condition of the objective reality of a conception, namely, that by which alone the object is given. But we have nothing constant in the internal intuition, for the _me_ is only the consciousness of my thought; if, therefore, we confine ourselves to the thought alone, the necessary condition of the application of the conception of substance, that is, of a subject subsisting in itself as thinking being."[46]

[46] Critik der reinen Vernunft, p. 299.

No argument could be more common-place and sophistical. Kant does not admit the substantiality of the soul, because we cannot take the substance itself and present it in sensible intuition; but then he ought not to speak of _pure intellectual conceptions_ of _logical functions_, or of _ideas_; for all these are things which are out of the order of sensibility, and therefore cannot be given us in the sensible intuition. Yet they really exist as internal phenomena, as subjective facts, of which Kant is continually talking, and to which he devotes the greater part of his _Critic of Pure Reason_. Will it, perchance, be said that the pure idea of relation means nothing, because we cannot present an abstract relation in sensible intuition? Will it be said that the principles from which proceed the phenomena of attraction, affinity, electricity, magnetism, galvanism, light, and all that charms or astonishes us in nature,--will it be said that they do not exist, that they are not permanent things, but empty words, because we cannot represent them in sensible intuition? Such a manner of arguing is unworthy of a philosopher. It might be excusable in an uneducated person, accustomed only to the phenomena of sensibility, who had never descended to the depths of the soul in the sphere of pure intelligence,--such a person might be pardoned if, when we speak of a _spirit_, a _cause_, or a _substance_, he should ask, _what is it?_ and require us to show the insensible under a sensible form: but one who pretends to excel all philosophers, ancient or modern, one who from the inaccessible height of his wisdom looks down with such sovereign contempt on all the arguments which were before regarded as conclusive, ought to produce some other title of his superiority than merely saying: one cannot conceive the possibility of such a manner of existing: we have no internal intuition of this permanent thing which you speak of; the _me_ is only the consciousness of my thought. What then! is any thing more necessary in order to prove what we propose, than this consciousness. Is not this consciousness _one_ amid the variety of our thoughts? Is there not a point connecting yesterday's, to-day's, and to-morrow's thought? Different and contradictory as they are, do they not all belong to the same thing, to this _thing_ which we call the _me_, and which authorizes us to say: _I_ who think to-day, am the same who thought yesterday, and who will think to-morrow? Can any reasoning be clearer or more convincing than affirming the real permanence which we perceive in the internal testimony of our consciousness? I do not see my substance, you may say, I have no intuition of it; I only perceive my consciousness. What more do you want? This consciousness which you experience, which is one amid multiplicity, identical amid distinction, constant amid variety, and permanent in the midst of the succession of the phenomena which appear and disappear; this consciousness, which is no one of your individual thoughts, which endures while they pass away, not to return; this consciousness presents to you the substantiality of your soul, it presents it in a certain manner in intuition, not in the intuition of _sensations_, but in the intuition of the _internal sense_, as a thing affecting you deeply, and the presence of which you cannot doubt, as you do not doubt the pleasure or pain in the act by which you experience it.

58. In attacking the psychological for the substantiality of the soul, Kant supposes that those who make use of it, attempt to prove the substantiality of the soul by starting from the pure and simple category of substance. This mistake might have occasioned the form in which Kant presents this argument; but we have seen that, whether intentionally or not, this form is arranged in the best manner for affording weak points for the attacks of the philosopher. Open any treatise on psychology and you will find that although the general idea of substance is employed, it is only made use of after it has been legitimated by a fact of experience; it is not inferred from the pure category of substance that the soul is a substance; but only after we have established the idea of substance as a general type, we scrutinize the depth of consciousness to see if there is any thing there to which this type may apply. This is what has been done in the preceding paragraphs, and if Kant had wished to be more exact in his account of the opinions of his adversaries, he would not have said that the first argument of rational psychology only gives a light, which is pretended to be true, when it presents the constant logical subject of the thought, as the cognition of the real subject of the inherence. "Far from its being possible," he says, "to infer these properties from the pure and simple category of a substance, on the contrary, the permanence of a given object cannot be taken as a principle, except by starting from experience, when we wish to apply to it the empirically general conception of a substance." The philosopher is right: the properties of the pure and simple category of a substance cannot take us out of the ideal order, unless we rest on a fact of experience; but he forgets a part of the psychological argument when he adds that in the present case we have not placed at the foundation any experience, and that we have only drawn our conclusions from the conception of the relation of every thought to the _me_ as the common subject with which this thought is connected. The experience exists in this very consciousness of the relation of all thoughts to the _me_; in this point with which they are all connected; the relation to the _me_ is not possible if the _me_ is not something; thoughts cannot be connected in the _me_ if the _me_ is a pure nothing. "Referring the thought to the _me_," Kant goes on to say, "we cannot establish this permanence by a certain observation; because, although the _me_ is found at the bottom of every thought, besides that there is no intuition to distinguish it from every other perceptible object, it is connected with this representation." It is true that we do not perceive the permanent _me_ in the same manner that we do the objects of the other intuitions; but we perceive it by the internal sense, by that presence, of which we cannot doubt, and which, as Kant himself confesses, makes us refer all thoughts to the _me_ as to a common subject which connects them.

59. "It may be observed," he says, "that this representation (that of the _me_) is constantly reproduced in every thought; but not that it is a fixed and permanent intuition in which variable thoughts succeed each other." There is an evident contradiction in this passage. The representation of the _me_ is constantly reproduced in every thought: but the _me_ either means nothing, or it means something identical with itself; for if the _me_ which thinks to-day is not the _me_ which thought yesterday, the word _me_ means something very different from what all the world understands by it; therefore, if the representation of the _me_ returns in every thought, the _me_ is the same in every thought; therefore the _me_ is fixed and permanent, and consequently the _me_ is a substance in which all variable thoughts succeed.

60. I cannot see any answer to this argument, founded on Kant's own words when establishing a phenomenon, the existence of which he was unable to place in doubt, namely, the presence of the _me_ in every thought. This is not the place to examine the philosophical questions on the uninterruptedness of consciousness, or whether there is any time in which the soul does not think, and is not conscious of itself. Many philosophers believe there is such an interruption; and they rest their opinion on our experience when asleep, and our not recollecting what happens to us in that state; but Leibnitz thinks that thought is never entirely extinguished, that there is never an absolute pause of consciousness, that our thought is a light which sheds but little lustre at times, but which never goes entirely out. Whichever of these opinions be the true one, the permanence of the substance of the soul is beyond a doubt; and it is worthy of remark that the interruption of thought and of consciousness, far from favoring those who oppose the permanence of the soul, confounds them in a most conclusive manner. For if it is impossible to conceive, without supposing something permanent, how different phenomena, continued in an uninterrupted series, are connected in consciousness; it is still more inconceivable how they can be connected, if we suppose this series to be interrupted, and a certain space of time to intervene between the existence of the connected phenomena.

61. Let A, B, C, D be thoughts which are continued without any interval of time between them, and Q the consciousness through which they pass; if this Q is not something, it is impossible to conceive how the terms of the series can be connected, and, how, notwithstanding their difference and diversity, there is found at the bottom of them all something constant and identical, which we call the _me_, and by virtue of which we can say: I, who think D, am the same who thought C, and B, and A.

But if the consciousness is interrupted, if some hours have passed between C and D, during which there was no thought, no consciousness, it is still more inconceivable how at the bottom of the thought _me_ there is found the same _me_ which was in the thought C; it is still more inconceivable, because in thinking D we may say: I, who think D, am the same who thought C, and who have been for a certain time deprived of thought. Without something permanent, something which lasts during the succession, how explain this connection? Are we, perchance, speaking of unknown facts? Is not this our daily experience on awaking? If this is not conclusive, let us deny consciousness, let us deny reason; but let us not waste time in talking philosophy.