Part 3 (2/2)

We have these ideas already comprehended by the mind, not by the senses.

Again, this is a house, that is a dog. Then the rest of the series follows, connecting the more important links; such as these, which embrace, as it were, the full comprehension of things;-If he is a man, he is a mortal animal partaking of reason:-from which cla.s.s of arguments the notions of things are impressed upon us, without which nothing can be understood, nor inquired into, nor discussed. But if those notions were false, (for you seemed to me to translate ?????a? _notions_,) if, I say, they were false, or impressed, or perceptions of such a kind as not to be able to be distinguished from false ones; then I should like to know how we were to use them? and how we were to see what was consistent with each thing and what was inconsistent with it? Certainly no room at all is here left for memory, which of all qualities is the one that most completely contains, not only philosophy, but the whole practice of life, and all the arts. For what memory can there be of what is false? or what does any one remember which he does not comprehend and hold in his mind? And what art can there be except that which consists not of one, nor of two, but of many perceptions of the mind? and if you take these away, how are you to distinguish the artist from the ignorant man? For we must not say at random that this man is an artist, and deny that that man is; but we must only do so when we see that the one retains the things which he has perceived and comprehended, and that the other does not. And as some arts are of that kind that one can only see the fact in one's mind, others such that one can design and effect something, how can a geometrician perceive those things which have no existence, or which cannot be distinguished from what is false? or how can he who plays on the lyre complete his rhythm, and finish verses? And the same will be the case with respect to similar arts, whose whole work consists in acting and in effecting something. For what is there that can be effected by art, unless the man who exercises the art has many perceptions?

VIII. And most especially does the knowledge of virtues confirm the a.s.sertion that many things can be perceived and comprehended. And in those things alone do we say that science exists; which we consider to be not a mere comprehension of things, but one that is firm and unchangeable; and we consider it also to be wisdom, the art of living which, by itself, derives consistency from itself. But if that consistency has no perception or knowledge about it, then I ask whence it has originated and how? I ask also, why that good man who has made up his mind to endure every kind of torture, to be torn by intolerable pain, rather than to betray his duty or his faith, has imposed on himself such bitter conditions, when he has nothing comprehended, perceived, known, or established, to lead him to think that he is bound to do so? It cannot, then, by any possibility be the case that any one should estimate equity and good faith so highly as to shrink from no punishment for the sake of preserving them, unless he has a.s.sented to those facts which cannot be false. But as to wisdom itself, if it be ignorant of its own character, and if it does not know whether it be wisdom or not, in the first place, how is it to obtain its name of wisdom? Secondly, how will it venture to undertake any exploit, or to perform it with confidence, when it has nothing certain to follow? But when it doubts what is the chief and highest good, being ignorant to what everything is referred, how can it be wisdom?

And that also is manifest, that it is necessary that there should be laid down in the first place a principle which wisdom may follow when it begins to act; and that principle must be adapted to nature. For otherwise, the desire, (for that is how I translate ???,) by which we are impelled to act, and by which we desire what has been seen, cannot be set in motion.

But that which sets anything in motion must first be seen and trusted, which cannot be the case if that which is seen cannot be distinguished from what is false. But how can the mind be moved to desire anything, if it cannot be perceived whether that which is seen is adapted to nature or inconsistent with it?

And again, if it does not occur to a man's mind what his duty is, he will actually never do anything, he will never be excited to any action, he will never be moved. But if he ever is about to do anything, then it is necessary that that which occurs to him must appear to him to be true.

What! But if those things are true, is the whole of reason, which is, as it were, the light and illumination of life, put an end to? And still will you persist in that wrong-headedness? For it is reason which has brought men the beginning of inquiry, which has perfected virtue, after reason herself had been confirmed by inquiry. But inquiry is the desire of knowledge; and the end of inquiry is discovery. But no one can discover what is false; nor can those things which continue uncertain be discovered. But when those things which have, as it were, been under a veil, are laid open, then they are said to be discovered; and so reason contains the beginning of inquiry, and the end of perceiving and comprehending. Therefore the conclusion of an argument, which in Greek is called ?p?de????, is thus defined:-Reason, which leads one from facts which are perceived, to that which was not perceived.

IX. But if all things which are seen were of that sort that those men say they are, so that they either could possibly be false, or that no discernment could distinguish whether they were false or not, then how could we say that any one had either formed any conclusion, or discovered anything? Or what trust could be placed in an argument when brought to a conclusion? And what end will philosophy itself have, which is bound to proceed according to reason? And what will become of wisdom? which ought not to doubt about its own character, nor about its decrees, which philosophers call d??ata; none of which can be betrayed without wickedness. For when a decree is betrayed, the law of truth and right is betrayed too. From which fault betrayals of friends.h.i.+ps and of republics often originate. It cannot, therefore be doubted, that no rule of wisdom can possibly be false; and it ought not to be enough for the wise man that it is not false, but it ought also to be steady, durable, and lasting; such as no arguments can shake. But none can either be, or appear such, according to the principle of those men who deny that those perceptions in which all rules originate are in any respect different from false ones; and from this a.s.sertion arose the demand which was repeated by Hortensius, that you would at least allow that the fact that nothing can be perceived has been perceived by the wise man. But when Antipater made the same demand, and argued that it was unavoidable that the man who affirmed that nothing could be perceived should nevertheless admit that this one thing could be perceived,-namely, that nothing else could,-Carneades resisted him with great shrewdness. For he said that this admission was so far from being consistent with the doctrine a.s.serted, that it was above all others incompatible with it: for that a man who denied that there was anything which could be perceived excepted nothing. And so it followed of necessity, that even that very thing which was not excepted, could not be comprehended and perceived in any possible manner.

Antiochus, on this topic, seems to press his antagonist more closely. For since the Academicians adopted that rule, (for you understand that I am translating by this word what they call d??a,) that nothing can be perceived, he urged that they ought not to waver in their rule as in other matters, especially as the whole of their philosophy consisted in it: for that the fixing of what is true and false, known and unknown, is the supreme law of all philosophy. And since they adopted this principle, and wished to teach what ought to be received by each individual, and what rejected, undoubtedly, said he, they ought to perceive this very thing from which the whole judgment of what is true and false arises. He urged, in short, that there were these two princ.i.p.al objects in philosophy, the knowledge of truth, and the attainment of the chief good; and that a man could not be wise who was ignorant of either the beginning of knowledge, or of the end of desire, so as not to know either where to start from, or whither to seek to arrive at. But that to feel in doubt on these points, and not to have such confidence respecting them as to be unable to be shaken, is utterly incompatible with wisdom.

In this manner, therefore, it was more fitting to demand of them that they should at least admit that this fact was perceived, namely, that nothing could be perceived. But enough, I imagine, has been said of the inconsistency of their whole opinion, if, indeed, you can say that a man who approves of nothing has any opinion at all.

X. The next point for discussion is one which is copious enough, but rather abstruse; for it touches in some points on natural philosophy, so that I am afraid that I may be giving the man who will reply to me too much liberty and licence. For what can I think that he will do about abstruse and obscure matters, who seeks to deprive us of all light? But one might argue with great refinement the question,-with how much artificial skill, as it were, nature has made, first of all, every animal; secondly, man most especially;-how great the power of the senses is; in what manner things seen first affect us; then, how the desires, moved by these things, followed; and, lastly, in what manner we direct our senses to the perception of things. For the mind itself, which is the source of the senses, and which itself is sense, has a natural power, which it directs towards those things by which it is moved. Therefore it seizes on other things which are seen in such a manner as to use them at once; others it stores up; and from these memory arises: but all other things it arranges by similitudes, from which notions of things are engendered; which the Greeks call, at one time ?????a?, and at another p?????e??. And when to this there is added reason and the conclusion of the argument, and a mult.i.tude of countless circ.u.mstances, then the perception of all those things is manifest, and the same reason, being made perfect by these steps, arrives at wisdom.

As, therefore, the mind of man is admirably calculated for the science of things and the consistency of life, it embraces knowledge most especially.

And it loves that ?at??????, (which we, as I have said, will call _comprehension_, translating the word literally,) for its own sake, (for there is nothing more sweet than the light of truth,) and also because of its use; on which account also it uses the senses, and creates arts, which are, as it were, second senses; and it strengthens philosophy itself to such a degree that it creates virtue, to which single thing all life is subordinate. Therefore, those men who affirm that nothing can be comprehended, take away by their a.s.sertion all these instruments or ornaments of life; or rather, I should say, utterly overturn the whole of life, and deprive the animal itself of mind (_animo_), so that it is difficult to speak of their rashness as the merits of the case require.

Nor can I sufficiently make out what their ideas or intentions really are.

For sometimes, when we address them with this argument,-that if the doctrines which we are upholding are not true, then everything must be uncertain: they reply,-Well, what is that to us? is that our fault? blame nature, who, as Democritus says, has buried truth deep in the bottom of the sea.

But others defend themselves more elegantly, who complain also that we accuse them of calling everything uncertain; and they endeavour to explain how much difference there is between what is uncertain and what cannot be perceived, and to make a distinction between them. Let us, then, now deal with those who draw this distinction, and let us abandon, as incurable and desperate, those who say that everything is as uncertain as whether the number of the stars be odd or even. For they contend, (and I noticed that you were especially moved by this,) that there is something probable, and, as I may say, likely; and that they adopt that likelihood as a rule in steering their course of life, and in making inquiries and conducting discussions.

XI. But what rule can there be, if we have no notion whatever of true or false, because it is impossible to distinguish one from the other? For, if we have such a notion, then there must be a difference between what is true and what is false, as there is between what is right and what is wrong. If there is no difference, then there is no rule; nor can a man to whom what is true and what is false appear under one common aspect, have any means of judging of, or any mark at all by which he can know the truth. For when they say, that they take away nothing but the idea of anything being able to appear in such a manner that it cannot possibly appear false in the same manner but that they admit everything else, they are acting childishly. For though they have taken away that by which everything is judged of, they deny that they take away the rest; just as if a person were to deprive a man of his eyes, and then say that he has not taken away from him those things which can be seen. For just as those things are known by the eyes, so are the other things known by the perceptions; but by a mark belonging peculiarly to truth, and not common to what is true and false.

Wherefore, whether you bring forward a perception which is merely probable, or one which is at once probable and free from all hindrance, as Carneades contended, or anything else that you may follow, you will still have to return to that perception of which we are treating. But in it, if there be but one common characteristic of what is false and true, there will be no judgment possible, because nothing peculiar can be noted in one sign common to two things: but if there be no such community, then I have got what I want; for I am seeking what appears to me to be so true, that it cannot possibly appear false.

They are equally mistaken when, being convicted and overpowered by the force of truth, they wish to distinguish between what is evident and what is perceived, and endeavour to prove that there is something evident,-being a truth impressed on the mind and intellect,-and yet that it cannot be perceived and comprehended. For how can you say distinctly that anything is white, when it may happen that that which is black may appear white? Or how are we to call those things evident, or to say that they are impressed faithfully on the mind, when it is uncertain whether it is really moved or only in an illusory manner? And so there is neither colour, nor body, nor truth, nor argument, nor sense, nor anything certain left us. And, owing to this, it frequently happens that, whatever they say, they are asked by some people,-Do you, then, perceive that? But they who put this question to them are laughed at by them; for they do not press them hard enough so as to prove that no one can insist upon any point, or make any positive a.s.sertion, without some certain and peculiar mark to distinguish that thing which each individual says that he is persuaded of.

What, then, is this probability of yours? For if that which occurs to every one, and which, at its first look, as it were, appears probable, is a.s.serted positively, what can be more trifling? But if your philosophers say that they, after a certain degree of circ.u.mspection and careful consideration, adopt what they have seen as such, still they will not be able to escape from us. First of all, because credit is equally taken from all these things which are seen, but between which there is no difference; secondly, when they say that it can happen to a wise man, that after he has done everything, and exercised the most diligent circ.u.mspection, there may still be something which appears probable, and which yet is very far removed from being true,-how can they then trust themselves, even if they (to use their own expression) approach truth for the most part, or even if they come as near to it as possible? For, in order to trust themselves, the distinctive mark of truth ought to be thoroughly known to them; and if that be obscure or concealed, what truth is there which they can seem to themselves to arrive at? And what can be so absurd a thing to say as,-This indeed is a sign of that thing, or a proof of it, and on that account I follow it; but it is possible that that which is indicated may either be false, or may actually have no existence at all?

XII. However, we have said enough about perception. For if any one wishes to invalidate what has been said, truth will easily defend itself, even if we are absent.

These things, then, which have now been explained, being sufficiently understood, we will proceed to say a little on the subject of a.s.sent and approbation, which the Greeks call s???at??es??. Not that the subject itself is not an extensive one, but because the foundations have been already laid a little while ago. For when we were explaining what power there was in the senses, this point was at the same time established, that many things were comprehended and perceived by the senses, which is a thing which cannot take place without a.s.sent. Secondly, as this is the princ.i.p.al difference between an inanimate and an animated being, that the inanimate being does nothing, but the animated one does something (for it is impossible even to imagine what kind of animal that can be which does nothing)-either sense must be taken from it, or else a.s.sent (which is wholly in our own power) must be given. But mind is in some degree denied to those beings whom they will not allow either to feel or to a.s.sent. For as it is inevitable that one scale of a balance must be depressed when a weight is put in it, so the mind, too, must yield to what is evident; for just as it is impossible for any animal to forbear discerning what is manifestly suited to its nature (the Greeks call that ???e???), so it is equally impossible for it to withhold its a.s.sent to a manifest fact which is brought under its notice.

Although, if those principles which we have been maintaining are true, there is no advantage whatever in discussing a.s.sent. For he who perceives anything, a.s.sents immediately. But these inferences also follow,-that memory can have no existence without a.s.sent, no more can notions of things or arts. And what is most important of all is, that, although some things may be in our power, yet they will not be in the power of that man who a.s.sents to nothing. Where, then, is virtue, if nothing depends on ourselves? But it is above all things absurd that vices should be in the power of the agents, and that no one should do wrong except by deliberate consent to do so, and yet that this should not be the case with virtue; all the consistency and firmness of which depends on the things to which it has a.s.sented, and which it has approved. And altogether it is necessary that something should be perceived before we act, and before we a.s.sent to what is perceived; wherefore, he who denies the existence of perception or a.s.sent, puts an end to all action in life.

XIII. Now let us examine the arguments which are commonly advanced by this school in opposition to these principles. But, first of all, you have it in your power to become acquainted with what I may call the foundations of their system. They then, first of all, compound a sort of art of those things which we call perceptions, and define their power and kinds; and at the same time they explain what the character of that thing which can be perceived and comprehended is, in the very same words as the Stoics. In the next place, they explain those two principles, which contain, as it were, the whole of this question; and which appear in such a manner that even others may appear in the same, nor is there any difference between them, so that it is impossible that some of them should be perceived, and that others should not be perceived; but that it makes no difference, not only if they are in every part of the same character, but even if they cannot be distinguished.

And when these principles are laid down, then these men comprehend the whole cause in the conclusion of one argument. But this conclusion, thus compounded, runs in this way: ”Of the things which are seen, some are true and some are false; and what is false cannot be perceived, but that which appears to be true is all of such a character that a thing of the same sort may seem to be also false. And as to those things which are perceived being of such a sort that there is no difference between them, it cannot possibly happen that some of them can be perceived, and that others cannot; there is, then, nothing seen which can really be perceived.”

But of the axioms which they a.s.sume, in order to draw the conclusions which they desire, they think that two ought to be granted to them; for no one objects to them. They are these: ”That those perceptions which are false, cannot really be perceived;” and the second is-”Of those perceptions between which there is no difference, it is impossible that some should be of such a character that they can be perceived, and others of such a character that they cannot.”

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