between A and B a few terms, which would remain discrete. What happens now if we have recourse to some instrument to supplement the feebleness of our senses, if, for example, we make use of a microscope? Terms such as A and B, before indistinguishable, appear now distinct; but between A and B, now become distinct, will be intercalated a new term, D, that we can distinguish neither from A nor from B. Despite the employment of the most highly perfected methods, the raw results of our experience will always present the characteristics of the physical continuum with the contradiction which is inherent in it.
We shall escape it only by incessantly intercalating new terms between the terms already distinguished, and this operation must be continued indefinitely. We might conceive the stopping of this operation if we could imagine some instrument sufficiently powerful to decompose the physical continuum into discrete elements, as the telescope resolves the milky way into stars. But this we can not imagine; in fact, it is with the eye we observe the image magnified by the microscope, and consequently this image must always retain the characteristics of visual sensation and consequently those of the physical continuum.
Nothing distinguishes a length observed directly from the half of this length doubled by the microscope. The whole is homogeneous with the part; this is a new contradiction, or rather it would be if the number of terms were supposed finite; in fact, it is clear that the part containing fewer terms than the whole could not be similar to the whole.
The contradiction ceases when the number of terms is regarded as infinite; nothing hinders, for example, considering the aggregate of whole numbers as similar to the aggregate of even numbers, which, however, is only a part of it; and, in fact, to each whole number corresponds an even number, its double.
But it is not only to escape this contradiction contained in the empirical data that the mind is led to create the concept of a continuum, formed of an indefinite number of terms.
All happens as in the sequence of whole numbers. We have the faculty of conceiving that a unit can be added to a collection of units; thanks to experience, we have occasion to exercise this faculty and we become conscious of it; but from this moment we feel that our power has no limit and that we can count indefinitely, though we have never had to count more than a finite number of objects.
Just so, as soon as we have been led to intercalate means between two consecutive terms of a series, we feel that this operation can be continued beyond all limit, and that there is, so to speak, no intrinsic reason for stopping.
As an abbreviation, let me call a mathematical continuum of the first order every aggregate of terms formed according to the same law as the scale of commensurable numbers. If we afterwards intercalate new steps according to the law of formation of incommensurable numbers, we shall obtain what we will call a continuum of the second order.
Second Stage.—We have made hitherto only the first stride; we have explained the origin of continua of the first order; but it is necessary to see why even they are not sufficient and why the incommensurable numbers had to be invented.
If we try to imagine a line, it must have the characteristics of the physical continuum, that is to say, we shall not be able to represent it except with a certain breadth. Two lines then will appear to us under the form of two narrow bands, and, if we are content with this rough image, it is evident that if the two lines cross they will have a common part.
But the pure geometer makes a further effort; without entirely renouncing the aid of the senses, he tries to reach the concept of the line without breadth, of the point without extension. This he can only attain to by regarding the line as the limit toward which tends an ever narrowing band, and the point as the limit toward which tends an ever lessening area. And then, our two bands, however narrow they may be, will always have a common area, the smaller as they are the narrower, and whose limit will be what the pure geometer calls a point.
This is why it is said two lines which cross have a point in common, and this truth seems intuitive.
But it would imply contradiction if lines were conceived as continua of the first order, that is to say, if on the lines traced by the geometer should be found only points having for coordinates rational numbers. The contradiction would be manifest as soon as one affirmed, for example, the existence of straights and circles.
It is clear, in fact, that if the points whose coordinates are commensurable were alone regarded as real, the circle inscribed in a square and the diagonal of this square would not intersect, since the coordinates of the point of intersection are incommensurable.
That would not yet be sufficient, because we should get in this way only certain incommensurable numbers and not all those numbers.
But conceive of a straight line divided into two rays. Each of these rays will appear to our imagination as a band of a certain breadth; these bands moreover will encroach one on the other, since there must be no interval between them. The common part will appear to us as a point which will always remain when we try to imagine our bands narrower and narrower, so that we admit as an intuitive truth that if a straight is cut into two rays their common frontier is a point; we recognize here the conception of Dedekind, in which an incommensurable number was regarded as the common frontier of two classes of rational numbers.
Such is the origin of the continuum of the second order, which is the mathematical continuum properly so called.
Résumé.—In recapitulation, the mind has the faculty of creating symbols, and it is thus that it has constructed the mathematical continuum, which is only a particular system of symbols. Its power is limited only by the necessity of avoiding all contradiction; but the mind only makes use of this faculty if experience furnishes it a stimulus thereto.
In the case considered, this stimulus was the notion of the physical continuum, drawn from the rough data of the senses. But this notion leads to a series of contradictions from which it is necessary successively to free ourselves. So we are forced to imagine a more and more complicated system of symbols. That at which we stop is not only exempt from internal contradiction (it was so already at all the stages we have traversed), but neither is it in contradiction with various propositions called intuitive, which are derived from empirical notions more or less elaborated.
Measurable Magnitude.—The magnitudes we have studied hitherto are not measurable; we can indeed say whether a given one of these magnitudes is greater than another, but not whether it is twice or thrice as great.
So far, I have only considered the order in which our terms are ranged. But for most applications that does not suffice. We must learn to compare the interval which separates any two terms. Only on this condition does the continuum become a measurable magnitude and the operations of arithmetic applicable.
This can only be done by the aid of a new and special convention. We will agree that in such and such a case the interval comprised between the terms A and B is equal to the interval which separates C and D. For example, at the beginning of our work we have set out from the scale of the whole numbers and we have supposed intercalated between two consecutive steps n intermediary steps; well, these new steps will be by convention regarded as equidistant.
This is a way of defining the addition of two magnitudes, because if the interval AB is by definition equal to the interval CD, the interval AD will be by definition the sum of the intervals AB and AC.
This definition is arbitrary in a very large measure. It is not completely so, however. It is subjected to certain conditions and, for example, to the rules of commutativity and associativity of addition. But provided the definition chosen satisfies these rules, the choice is indifferent,
