Essays in Rationalism

by Charles Robert Newman

I discriminate first principles from derived ones thus:—“I see the sun,” is a first principle to me; “you see it,” is a first principle to you; by comparing these two ideas, each attains the derived principle that the other sees what he does, and the further derived principle that the sun is an existence independent of both. His own existence is, indeed, to every one the first principle, by means of which he infers the existence of other things and beings.

In coming now to the other kind of first principles, consisting of propositions formed by reason, we perceive that these show symptoms of still further difference from the above, than that which results from the difference of their source, of difference that affects their philosophical character, and their technical right to the name under which they present themselves to us. In short, the primary philosophy has not yet settled their title.

They are perceived by us to be true by an act of reason called intuition. Not similarly, however, does our reason inform us that they really are first principles, and our science is hitherto unequal to this inquiry.

Take, for instance, the following celebrated thesis, so often cited as the most fundamental of all the propositions of reason, insomuch as to be tacitly implied in all our reasonings; which yet we are not sure is a first principle, all that can be said in favor of its pretensions being that we can find no one who is able to reduce it to more primary elements:—

It is impossible for a thing at the same time to be and not to be.

Any one agreeing, as every one must, that this is true, might still justly put the query, Why is it impossible? thereby calling its assertion in question, demanding its credentials of proof, seeking some ground for its truth other than its own testimony, and hypothesising some other proposition more fundamental than it of which it would be a derivative, and by all and each of these proceedings, rejecting its claim to be a first principle.

Its resisting our analysis is a good subjective ground for our ranking this and other similar propositions among our first principles. But they could only have the true claim by its being made clear that the inability results from the nature of the case, and not from our own incompetency.

This test is borne by the former description of first principles; we are able to see that the instances I adduced, such as the statements, “I see the sun,” “I see an inkstand,” “I hear a bird,” “I am conscious that I exist,” evade our power of ordinary proving, because they do not admit of such proof.

When we perceive that no one can answer this query, we are prompted to another. Why cannot we answer it? whence our inability? what prevents us? But here also we find ourselves completely in the dark, which is somewhat strange, considering that in every human pursuit, whether of science or any other, when we wish to do a thing and cannot do it, we are generally able to specify some particular, either of self-defect or outward impediment that is supposed to be in fault. But I imagine, if the reader were to experiment on the specimen I have given, he would not only find himself to fail in solving the problem, Why is it that a thing cannot at once be and not be? but would not have a word to advance in the way of accounting for his failure.

These remarks apply to all other propositions of the sort. Euclid’s axioms, which undoubtedly aim to be as elementary as possible, and therefore may be said to aim to be first principles, are confessedly, under this aspect, unsatisfactory to the learned. “Things that are equal to the same are equal to each other.” Every one is inclined to ask, Why? “A straight line is the shortest distance between two points.” Again, Why?