2. Unity of the Individual.—But before we can attend to several things as like or unlike, we must be able to apprehend each of these by itself as one thing. [96] It may at first sight perhaps appear that this apprehension results immediately from the impressions on our senses, without any act of our thoughts. A very little attention, however, enables us to see that thus to single out special objects requires a mental operation as well as a sensation. How, for example, without an exertion of mental activity, can we see one tree, in a forest where there are many? We have, spread before us, a collection of colours and forms, green and brown, dark and light, irregular and straight: this is all that sensation gives or can give. But we associate one brown trunk with one portion of the green mass, excluding the rest, although the neighbouring leaves are both nearer in contiguity and more similar in appearance than is the stem. We thus have before us one tree; but this unity is given by the mind itself. We see the green and the brown, but we must make the tree before we can see it.
That this composition of our sensations so as to form one thing implies an act of our own, will perhaps be more readily allowed, if we once more turn our attention to the manner in which we sometimes attempt to imitate and record the objects of sight, by drawing. When we do this, as we have already observed, we mark this unity of each object, by drawing a line to separate the parts which we include from those which we exclude;—an Outline. This line corresponds to nothing which we see; the beginner in drawing has great difficulty in discerning it; he has in fact to make it. It is, as has been said by a painter of our own time[1], a fiction: but it is a fiction employed to mark a real act of the mind; to designate the singleness of the object in our conception. As we have said elsewhere, we see lines, but especially outlines, by mentally drawing them ourselves.
[1] Phillips On Painting,—Design.
The same act of conception which the outline thus represents and commemorates in visible objects,—the same combination of sensible impressions into a unit,—is exercised also with regard to the objects of all [97] our senses: and the singleness thus given to each object, is a necessary preliminary to its being named or represented in any other way.
But it may be said, Is it then by an arbitrary act of our own that we put together the branches of the same tree, or the limbs of the same animal? Have we equally the power and the right to make the branch of the fir a part of the neighbouring oak? Can we include in the outline of a man any object with which he happens to be in contact?
Such suppositions are manifestly absurd. And the answer is, that though we give unity to objects by an act of thought, it is not by an arbitrary act; but by a process subject to certain conditions;—to conditions which exclude such incongruous combinations as have just been spoken of.
What are these conditions which regulate our apprehension of an object as one?—which determine what portion of our impressions does, and what portion does not belong to the same thing?
3. Condition of Unity.—I reply, that the primary and fundamental condition is, that we must be able to make intelligible assertions respecting the object, and to entertain that belief of which assertions are the exposition. A tree grows, sheds its leaves in autumn, and buds again in the spring, waves in the wind, or falls before the storm. And to the tree belong all those parts which must be included in order that such declarations, and the thought which they convey, shall have a coherent and permanent meaning. Those are its branches which wave and fall with its trunk; those are its leaves which grow on its branches. The permanent connexions which we observe,—permanent, among unconnected changes which affect the surrounding appearances,—are what we bind together as belonging to one object. This permanence is the condition of our conceiving the object as one. The connected changes may always be described by means of assertions; and the connexion is seen in the identity of the subject of successive predications; in the possibility of applying many verbs to one substantive. We may [98] therefore express the condition of the unity of an object to be this: that assertions concerning the object shall be possible: or rather we should say, that the acts of belief which such assertions enunciate shall be possible.
It may seem to be superfluous to put in a form so abstract and remote, the grounds of a process apparently so simple as our conceiving an object to be one. But the same condition to which we have thus been led, as the essential principle of the unity of objects, namely, that propositions shall be possible, will repeatedly occur in the present chapter; and it may serve to illustrate our views, to show that this condition pervades even the simplest cases.
4. Kinds.—The mental synthesis of which we have thus spoken, gives us our knowledge of individual things; it enables me to apprehend that particular tree or man which I now see, or, by the help of memory, the tree or the man I saw yesterday. But the knowledge with which we have mainly here to do is not a knowledge of individuals but of kinds; of such classes as are indicated by common names. We have to make assertions concerning a tree or a man in general, without regarding what is peculiar to this man or that tree.