I hold in my hand a lens. This lens, in its shape, resembles a certain
other lens through which I look in examining it. It was, indeed, modeled
after the other, which is a part of my organ of vision. I place the
glass lens in a microscope, and a hitherto unknown world is revealed to
me. It was there before, but I could not see it. Do I see it now _with
the lens_? It is evident that the lens is merely an aid to vision, since
the lens in my eye is also necessary to convey the picture to my mind.
But now another question: Do I see with the lens which is a part of my
eye? Is not that also merely an aid to vision? Let us consider. Since I
have two eyes, I may lose one of them without losing the power to see.
If I am so unfortunate as to lose one, then, if the eye is not merely an
aid to vision, but part of the vision itself, it would naturally follow
that I should see only half as well as before; but this, very evidently,
is not true.
I can read as well as ever. For the examination of anything on a flat
surface, one eye is as good as two.
Notice, also, that the lens of the eye and the glass lens are not only
alike in shape and transparency, but that both are composed of material
substances that can be analyzed, and that both are used to acquire
knowledge of such substances and the relations existing between them.
The glass lens is merely a supplement to the lens of the eye. It is one
step further removed from the vision, but even the lens of the eye
itself is not the seeing power. That lies back of all.
Take now the ear-trumpet, a contrivance to concentrate sound to a given
point. It is intended as an aid to hearing, but it is not inseparably
associated with the power to hear. A person with normal senses does very
well without it. How about the ear itself?
Does that constitute a part of the hearing power of a man? If it does,
what is the necessity of the auditory nerve? If the hearing and the ear
were one and the same, there would be no need of this connecting link
with the brain. The external and the internal ear, like the ear-trumpet,
are purely material, and by means of them we are able to cognize those
material emanations called sound.
I speak of sound as a material emanation, because whatever sound comes
to us through the ear comes from some material source. The ear, being
material, is adapted to convey such emanations to the brain, through
which the mind becomes conscious of their existence.
The sense of touch, also, is exclusively adapted to the acquainting of
its owner with still another aspect of things material. Hardness,
softness, smoothness, roughness, heat, cold, and other attributes of
matter become known through this sense, and it may be considered a rule
without exception that when the sense of touch is excited, some material
object is responsible. The same thing is true of the senses of smell and
taste, but as their field of action is comparatively limited, I will
allow the first three named to represent the whole number.
The organs of sight, hearing, and touch, then, are the three principal
avenues through which we obtain knowledge of matter, they themselves,
however highly organized, being also material.
Now, I have said that there is an inhabited domain in immediate touch
with the earth, although not discoverable by any of the scientific
instruments of investigation. Sight, hearing, and touch do not sustain
this, and declare such a domain non-existent. If we bear in mind that
these organs deal with matter only, it may be freely admitted that they
speak the truth. The world whose existence we are asserting is an
immaterial world, and although it be immaterial, it can be shown that it
has, nevertheless, a claim upon our profound attention.
Certainly, after what has been shown, it ought not to lose in interest
on that account. _For, if our bodily senses are, by their very
constitution, unable to bring us any reports save such as pertain to
matter, their silence in regard to the world we speak of counts for
nothing._
But it may be said that all entities are material. This is a specious
plea, but the generalization is too broad. Let us test it in a familiar
way. Benjamin Franklin was one of the signers of the Declaration of
Independence, and attached his name to the immortal document in a clear
and legible manner. All this has to do with matter. Even the emotions
which he may be supposed to have experienced while affixing his name,
although not in themselves material, had a material effect upon his
frame.
I say that those emotions were not in themselves material. I might take
my stand here, but prefer to go one step further, and put a question:
What were those emotions? and then add, This question is not in itself
material.
It might be made a subject of thought. An essay might be written upon
it, which would be esteemed good, bad, or indifferent, according as the
author rightly apprehended the character of the man.
The question may never have been put into language before, but it is now
a real entity, and our mental powers, acting freely, will have no
trouble in so regarding it. It will be seen that, while it may become
associated with things material, may be written so as to be seen, spoken
so as to be heard, or even stamped to reach the apprehension of the
blind, these material associations are no essential part of the
question, since it might arise in the mind without any such aid, and be
examined there without calling into play any one of the bodily senses,
or any combination of them.
It may be said that this is an idle question, unworthy to take an
important place in an argument, but it cannot be said that it is a
foolish question; and it may well stand as a representative of other
questions, questions which might have been substituted; questions which
have arisen in many minds at the same time, and the answering of which
has involved the overthrow of kingdoms, thereby demonstrating, if
necessary, the reality of their existence.