Suppose that the stuff of which the world consists were capable of

acquiring feeling, but there were no samenesses whatever; which would

mean that every smallest piece of the world-stuff were a particular

thing by itself and in every respect unlike every other piece, of a

different material or of no material at all, of different size or of

no size at all, and also possessed of a different number of space

dimensions. In such a world all the impacts made upon a sentient being

would be different; not one would be like the other, and all feelings

would present a chaos without uniformities, worse than the most complex

crazy-quilt. Under such circumstances mind would be impossible: it would

neither originate nor could it develop.

On the other hand suppose again that the stuff of which the world

consists were capable of acquiring feeling in some certain formation, and

that there were samenesses in the world and in the events of the world.

Would not mind necessarily originate in such a world? Given feeling

substance in a world of samenesses and differences, these samenesses will

produce analogous samenesses of impression upon the feeling substance,

which will be perceived as samenesses of feeling. The preservation of the

traces left in the feeling substance (supposing this substance to live

on indefinitely) will in the long run result in the formation of special

sense-organs. It will later on, with the aid of word-symbolism, lead to

the formation of universals, for universals are nothing but samenesses

perceived. It will then create with the assistance of abstraction the

realm of scientific thought, representing the uniformities of the events

of the world in exact formulas.

THE EXISTENCE OF SAMENESSES A FACT.

The question whether there are samenesses at all in the world, is in our

opinion settled. It is a fact that there are samenesses. The uniformities

of the world are a matter of indubitable experience—indubitable because

our very existence as thinking beings, as minds, is conditioned by this

fact. We see the mind of every child develop out of his perception of

samenesses. Our scientists teach us that the race-soul, like a great

immortal individual, is the product of the accumulated experience

of samenesses; and all future progress, in science as well as in

civilisation, in mechanical invention as well as in ethics, depends upon

the trustworthiness of the samenesses stated to exist in the objective

world.

The question of the ultimate _raison d’être_ of the samenesses and

differences, is another question; and it would lead us too far here

to discuss it. In several details the problem is not as yet ripe for

solution. A full solution of the problem would be tantamount to the

exposition of a complete knowledge of the world. Suffice it here to

say that we have reasons to think of the world-stuff as being of the

same nature throughout. The chemical elements seem to be different

configurations of one and the same substance. In this way all difference

would have to be explained as a difference of form.

The form of reality possesses sameness and difference in all its parts.

Space in its sameness is by experience found to be tri-dimensional, which

means, it is determinable throughout by three coördinates; while its

differences are due to the position of the points considered. For the

purpose of the geometrician space is uniform, but for the purpose, say

of the architect, it is not uniform. To the geometrician two congruent

triangles, whether they are in the cellar or in the garret, are the same.

However, to the architect the position of two congruent triangles in his

design of a house is by no means the same. Every single point of space

has its special and individual qualities.

The whole business of science is to systematise the samenesses of

experience, and to present them in such convenient formulas that they can

be used for guidance in our actions.

The most comprehensive formulation of the sameness of the universe as

a whole has found its expression in the law of the conservation of

matter and energy. This law rests upon the experience, corroborated by

experiments, that causation is transformation. It states that the total

amount of matter and the total amount of energy remain constant. There is

no creation out of nothing and no conversion of something into nothing.

EINDEUTIG BESTIMMT.

After this sketch of the importance of sameness, (a subject which we have

by no means exhausted,) we return to the idea of necessity. The ideas

of sameness and necessity are closely related. A world of sameness is a

world in which necessity rules, and necessity means regularity and order.

German scientists have a very good expression to denote the formulation

of events in a manner which describes them in their necessary course. If

they have succeeded in finding the sameness in the instances of a certain

class of events, they say that it is _eindeutig bestimmt_, which means,

the sameness is determined in a way that admits of no equivocation; it is

complete, representing solely and purely that feature upon the presence

of which the result depends. Whatever is thus _eindeutig bestimmt_, is

recognised in its necessity. The presence of that feature which makes it

_eindeutig bestimmt_, determines the event to take place; and this being

determined, its inevitableness, the _it will be_ of the process, is all

there is to necessity.

All natural phenomena that can be _eindeutig bestimmt_ are necessary in

their happening. A world which with regard to the total amount of its

matter and energy is the same to-day and yesterday and will be the same

to-morrow, a world whose laws of form possess a sameness throughout, so

that it allows of formulating and applying them in their rigidity to all

facts present, past, and future, a world in which all the changes are

transformations determinable with the assistance of formal laws, can be

relied upon and the course of its events can be computed.

Such _is_ the world in which we live; and taking this ground I say, the

world is a cosmos, it is no chaos; and noticing that being possessed

of sameness is an intrinsic and inalienable feature of the world, I

am inclined to add the world never was and never will be a chaos. And

this, if it be true at all, is true not only in general and as it were

wholesale, but in its minutest details. If there were deficiencies of

this order in the unobservable details, they would not be diminished

by being summed up in large and ever larger amounts; on the contrary,

they would increase; they would grow in proportion. This not being

the case, we have not the slightest reason to doubt that in those

realms of minutest existence into which, from the grossness and the

lack of precision of our organs and instruments of observation, we

cannot penetrate, the same order and regularity obtains as in those

regions which lie open to our investigation. In other words: From this

standpoint, existence is, so to say, permeated by law throughout; every

event is determined and any kind of absolute chance is excluded.

Following Kant’s etymology we understand by _a posteriori_ the sensory

elements, and by _a priori_ the formal elements of our experience. The

queer expression “a priori” is in so far justified as formal truths (such

as geometrical, arithmetical, logical rules) are formulas expressing the

universal samenesses of the form of existence. They contain the laws of

form in a shape that is _eindeutig bestimmt_, so that an experimenter

will know them _a priori_ to be so. _A priori_ means beforehand. An

experimenter knows certain things even before he makes his experiments.

The _a priori_ elements of experience are by no means innate truths; nor

are they the historical beginning of experience. On the contrary. In

their abstract purity they appear as a very late product of man’s mental

evolution.

The _a priori_ systems of thought are not arbitrary constructions; they

are constructions raised out of the recognition of the formal, i. e. the

relational, samenesses that appear in experience. All possibilities of a

certain class of relations can be exhausted and formulated in theorems.

As such they can be used as references to assist in the explanation and

determination of new experiences. We know some part of any new experience

with which we are confronted even before we have investigated it. We know

certain laws of its form, and by reference to these known laws we are

enabled to reduce the unknown to the known, to analyse the process and

set forth that feature of it which makes _eindeutig bestimmt_.

II. THE SCOPE OF NECESSITY.

Mr. Peirce objects to necessitarianism, and classes it together with

materialism and the mechanical philosophy, speaking of the latter as

the most logical form of necessitarianism. In consonance with the

dictionary-definitions of these words, he contrasts them to the doctrine

of the freedom of the will and also to miracles—the latter, we must

confess, being a dangerous concession to certain theological conceptions.

The “Century Dictionary” defines “necessitarianism” as

“The theory that the will is subject to the general mechanical

law of cause and effect.”

And “necessitarian” as

“One who maintains the doctrine of philosophical necessity,

in opposition to that of the freedom of the will: opposed to

libertarian.”

The word “determinism” is regarded as a synonym of necessitarianism. Its

first definition in the “Century Dictionary” reads as follows:

“A term invented by Sir William Hamilton to denote the doctrine

of the necessitarian philosophers, who hold that man’s actions

are uniformly determined by motives acting upon his character,

and that he has not the power to choose to act in one way so

long as he prefers on the whole to act in another way.”

Hamilton’s definition as here presented is puzzling. If the words

“choose” and “prefer on the whole” are _not_ meant to be tautological,

there is no sense in it; for no determinist denies that a man might “upon

the whole” prefer to act this way, while he has the power to choose,

and for special considerations perhaps does choose, to act in another

way. However, if the words “choose” and “prefer on the whole” are meant

to be tautological, the self-contradictoriness of the statement is too

palpable for a Hamilton. Is there anybody who would maintain that a man

who chooses to act in one way can at the same time, under the very same

circumstances, and he remaining the very same man of the same character

and intentions, choose to act in another way?

While we accept determinism and also necessitarianism in the sense that

all events (the actions of willing beings included) are determined, we

cannot accept either the mechanical philosophy or materialism as the

terms are commonly understood.

We find materialism defined as

“The metaphysical doctrine that matter is the only substance,

and that matter and its motions constitute the universe.”

(“Century Dictionary,” 2d sense.)

The mechanical philosophy is explained _sub voce_ “atomic” as

“[The view that] from the diverse combination and motions of

... atoms all things, including the soul, were supposed to

arise.” _Ibid._

Determinism is simply the negation of absolute chance. It does not

exclude chance in the original sense of the word as an unexpected event,

as something that befalls one without his seeking it or making the

event—chance being derived from ML. _cadentia_, i. e. the falling, as in

a throw of dice.

The “Century Dictionary” defines “chance” in sense 9, as

“Fortuity; especially the absence of a cause necessitating an

event.”

This is absolute chance, the existence of which we deny. The “Century

Dictionary” adds the following little note:

“Absolute chance, the (supposed) spontaneous occurrence of

events undetermined by any general law or by any free volition.

According to Aristotle, events may come about in three ways:

first, by necessity or an external compulsion; second, by

nature or the development of an inward germinal tendency; and

third, by chance, without any determining cause or principle

whatever, by lawless, sporadic originality.”[12]

We understand chance as being, from certain premisses, an incalculable

coincidence, either not intended to be calculated, or, for certain

reasons, from a given standpoint with a limited and definite amount of

knowledge, not capable of calculation. Determinism, as we understand

the term, does not imply as the “Century Dictionary” has it in its

definition of necessitarianism, that “the law of cause and effect” is

“mechanical.” It simply asserts that the law of cause and effect holds

good universally, and that there is no effect that is not definitely

determined, according to the nature of the things in action, by causes

and all their circumstances.

NECESSITY AND CHANCE.

Mr. Peirce says:

“_All_ the diversity and specificalness of events is

attributable to chance—diversification, specificalness, and

irregularity of things, I suppose is chance—and this diversity

cannot be due to laws that are immutable.” (P. 332.)

Our world-view leads us to other conclusions; we say:

Every specificalness or particularity is such by possessing a certain

form and standing in a definite relation (in time as well as space) to

all other things of the universe. Of every concrete thing we can say it

is now and here, or it was then and there. It is or was made up in this

special way, and it stands or it stood in these special relations to its

surroundings. Proportions, relations, forms—these are what account for

the diversification and specificalness of all things in the universe;

they are what explain the irregularities of individual cases and of all

those events which appear as chance to him who, although he may be well

informed about the nature of a thing, does not know the relation of

its complex surroundings, exercising according to law their disturbing

influence upon its actions which otherwise would be uniform.

And since no two spots of space and no two instances of time are the

same, since the relations of every atom are different in every position

and at every moment of its existence, we need not be astonished to find

diversity and specificalness in this world of samenesses.

We do not believe in absolute chance, but we believe in chance.

What is chance?

Chance is any event not especially intended, either not calculated, or,

with a given and limited stock of knowledge, incalculable.

Gunpowder was, according to the legend, invented by chance. Berthold

Schwartz intended to make gold, yet when the mixture was ignited, he

began to understand that it was an explosive. When I say that I met

a friend by chance, I mean that the meeting was unintentional. I had

not foreseen it and perhaps could not foresee it. When we call a throw

of dice pure chance, we mean that the incidents which condition the

turning up of these or those special faces of the dice have not been or

cannot be calculated. We do not mean that the law of cause and effect is

suspended; we mean that we are unable to determine the effect. That which

would make this or that throw _eindeutig bestimmt_ is either not known to

us, or, if it were known, is of such a nature that we cannot produce the

desired effect with any certainty. Matters are so arranged in the game of

dice that the slightest incident changes the result, and these incidents

are either not within our ken or not within the range of our power.

Chance, accordingly, as we understand it, is no exception to necessity;

it does not happen contrary to law, and is in each case the strict result

of a definite cause under definite circumstances.

Absolute chance is something quite different. Absolute chance is that

which is incalculable because of the absence of law. Mr. Peirce says:

“Another argument, or convenient commonplace, is that absolute

chance is _inconceivable_. This word has eight current

significations. The ‘Century Dictionary’ enumerates six. Those

who talk like this will hardly be persuaded to say in what

sense they mean that chance is inconceivable.”

Absolute chance is “inconceivable” as the word is defined by the “Century

Dictionary” in the second sense: It is

“unacceptable to the mind because involving a violation of laws

believed to be well established by positive evidence.”

Absolute chance is not unthinkable in the sense of unimaginable. We can

very well depict a case of absolute chance in our imagination, just as

we can tell and describe in minutest details the fairy tale of Alladin’s

lamp; just as we can in our imagination depict a creation out of nothing.

But he who accepts that the world is in its innermost nature a cosmos,

that its events are strictly and throughout regulated by law, cannot

at the same time think that there are nooks and crevices in which the

law does not operate. Absolute chance actually involves the idea of a

creation out of nothing; and thus it stands in contradiction to the law

of the preservation of matter and energy. Absolute chance which means

that the very same thing under the very same conditions can act in this

or in some other way, that it need not act in exactly the same way,

involves a belief in either the creation of a not existing quality out

of nothing, or the disappearance of existing qualities into nothing.

Mr. Peirce says:

“It seems to me that every throw of sixes with a pair of dice

is a manifest instance of chance.”

Yes, of chance; but not of that chance the existence of which Mr. Peirce

maintains—not of absolute chance. Every throw of dice, every toss of head

or tail, are exactly determined by circumstances. We call it chance only

in so far as we cannot calculate and predetermine the result.

Suppose you take two large silver coins between your thumb and the first

two fingers, one coin parallel to and a little above the other. Suppose

tails are up in both. Drop the lower coin without an effort just as it

would fall, about twenty inches, and you may be sure that, in spite of

yourself, it will turn up head. Then drop the upper one and it will not

turn, but plump right down showing tail. There are certain mechanical

reasons for the one case as well as for the other. As soon as we know the

law and can apply it, the case ceases to be an instance of chance.

Dice, the roulette, and other games of chance are so arranged, that

the determinating circumstances are too numerous and also too complex,

one interfering with and being disturbed by the others, to admit

of any adequate calculation or predetermination. An arrangement of

conditions which in this way eludes the calculation of a definite set of

possibilities, is called by Professor Kries _gleiche Spielräume_ or equal

chances. And the province of equal chances is and will remain the proper

sphere of the calculus of probabilities.

Professor Nitsche objects to Kries’s proposition, saying that absolutely

equal chances are impossible and an equal chance (_ein gleicher

Spielräume_) is nothing but the objectification of a judgment of equal

value.[13] We find no fault with Nitsche’s objection; there are no

absolutely equal chances; and what is called “equal chance” means that

the strength of two or several anticipations is of the same degree; that

our belief and doubt as to the turning up of one, two, three, four, five,

or six spots of a die are equally justified. The objective conditions

which justify such equality of several expectations is what Kries (if

we understand him correctly) calls _gleiche Spielräume_. But _gleiche

Spielräume_ do not imply absolute chance. We might as well expect that

all the six faces of a die should turn up simultaneously in one throw, as

that any one of them should turn up by absolute chance.

While absolute chance cannot be admitted, partly because we are not in

need of it, (since the irregularities of nature can be sufficiently

explained otherwise,) and partly because the idea of absolute chance if

it were needed, is incompatible with our world-conception, we shall,

nevertheless, have to concede to chance, as we understand the term, a

very important rôle in the evolution of life. The formation of worlds and

the history of mankind depend to a great extent upon chances similar to

the throws of dice. There are many possibilities, and now this, now that,

will, according to the circumstances, be realised—of course in each case

with strict necessity.

Let us illustrate this idea by an example.

The formation of about seventy elements out of the original

world-substance, which may be supposed to be homogeneous, does not appear

to depend upon chance. Their universal appearance in all parts of the

universe suggests the hypothesis that their formation is the inevitable

result of a gradual condensation of nebular substances. We find

everywhere, according to the stage of condensation, a gradual appearance,

first of the lighter, then of the heavier elements. There seems to be

no possibility of the formation of other elements than those known to

us (including here the hypothetical elements which are still missing in

the Mendeljeff series and at the same time, at least, not excluding a

further continuance of the series). These elements or none, it appears,

must be formed out of the original substance of our world. Let us here

assume, for argument’s sake, that it were so beyond question, and that we

knew the nature of the world-substance to be such as to condense, if it

condenses at all, into no other but these forms, which we call chemical

elements. This would be a limitation of possibilities. Exactly so the

throws Of dice are limited. With the dice commonly in use we cannot throw

fractions; nor can we throw either zero, or seven, or any other higher

number. We can throw only whole numbers, integrals from one up to six.

But while we thus assume that the formation of the elements is limited

to those actually existing, the proportion in which the elements may be

distributed in the different nebulæ and solar systems, is apparently

very different. Suppose we had a full knowledge of the intrinsic nature

of the world-substance and were standing outside the universe observing

the process of world-formations; we could not from this knowledge alone

predict all that would happen. We should on our assumption be able to

predict _a priori_ that such elements would be formed. But whether the

different elements would be generated in these or in other proportions

appears to depend upon the presence of certain conditions, perhaps the

rapidity of motion, the heat produced by friction, the temperature of

the surrounding cosmic space, any knowledge of which is not included in

our knowledge of the nature of the world-substance. These conditions

may vary, nay, so far as we can judge they actually do vary; and any

apparently slight variation of them, or even one of them, will result in

different effects of great consequence. Without a detailed knowledge of

all these special conditions, simply from a supposed _a priori_ knowledge

of the world-substance, the idiosyncrasy of this or that particular

solar system could not be _a priori_ determined. Here it will be such,

and there, under perhaps slightly different circumstances, it will be

entirely other. Here the centre of gravity may be in one great mass,

there again it may be divided in two, so that the planets circle around

two suns.

From this point of view we have to call these results products of chance.

To a being who not only might be supposed to know the intrinsic nature

of existence, but could have present before his mind every event of the

great interacting cosmos in its entire complexity, this kind of chance

would, of course, also disappear. To him all states of things would

appear throughout as _eindeutig bestimmt_. Yet, although in this way

necessity permeates all events that take place, we do not intend to deny

the irregularity of detail,[14] the specificalness of the particulars,

the diversity of individual incidents and existences. According to our

conception of nature they must remain, and we need not attribute them

to absolute chance. To attribute irregularities to absolute chance (as

Mr. Peirce does) is actually an abandonment of explaining them. The

specificalness and particularity of nature can be said to be due to

chance in so far only as they do not depend upon and are not determinable

by the nature of the things under consideration, but result (with strict

necessity of course) from the ever-changing conformations of surrounding

circumstances.

Thus the fate of a man depends mainly upon his character,—the proverb

says, “Every man is the architect of his own fortune”—but not entirely.

There are sometimes coincidences determining the fates of men, and

through them the fates of whole nations. And these coincidences do not

result from their character.

The Monist, Vol. 3, 1892-1893 · 第 7 / 65 段