But to pass to a far graver application. It has usually been supposed

that metaphysical theory is more especially akin to the speculation that

mounts to the supernatural and the transcendental world. "Man's

relations to the infinite" is a frequent phrase in the mouth of the

metaphysician. Metaphysics is supposed to be "philosophy" by way of

eminence; and philosophy in the large sense has not merely to satisfy

the curiosity of the human mind, it has to provide scope for its

emotions and aspirations; in fact, to play the part of theology. In

times when the prevailing orthodox beliefs are shaken, some scheme of

philosophy is brought forward to take their place. If I understand

aright the drift of the German metaphysical systems for a century back,

they all more or less propose to themselves to supply the same spiritual

wants as religion supplies. In our own country, such of us as are not

under German influence put the matter differently; but we still consider

that we have something to say on the "highest questions". We are apt to

believe that on us more than on any other class of thinkers, does it

depend whether the prevailing theology shall be upheld, impugned, or

transformed. The chief weapons of the defenders of the faith are forged

in the schools of metaphysics. Locke and Butler, Reid, Stewart and Brown

are theological authorities. And when theology is attacked, its

metaphysical buttresses have to be assailed as the very first thing. If

these are declared unsound, either it must fall, or it must change its

front. It is Natural Theology, more particularly, that is thus allied to

metaphysics; yet, not exclusively; for the defence of Revelation by

miracles involves at the outset a point of logic.

Now I do not mean to say, that this is a purely factitious and

ill-grounded employment of the metaphysical sciences. I fully admit that

the later defences of theology, as well as the attacks, have been

furnished from psychology, logic, ethics, and ontology. The earliest

beliefs in religion, the greatest and strongest convictions, had little

to do with any of these departments of speculation. But when simple

traditionary faith gave place to the questionings of the reason, the

basis of religion was transferred to the reason-built sciences; and

metaphysics came in for a large share in the decision.

[METAPHYSICS AND THEOLOGY.]

What I maintain is, that there is something factitious in the degree of

prominence given to metaphysics in this great enterprise; that its

pretentions are excessive, its importance over-stated; and when most

employed for such a purpose, it is least to be trusted. Theological

polemic is only in part conducted through science; and physical science

shares equally with moral. The most serious shocks to the traditional

orthodoxy have come from the physical sciences. The argument from Design

has no doubt a metaphysical or logical element--the estimate of the

degree of analogy between the universe and a piece of human workmanship;

but the argument itself needs a scientific survey of the entire

phenomena of nature, both matter and mind. Our Bridgewater Treatises

proceeded upon this view; they embraced the consideration of the whole

circle of the sciences, as bearing on the theological argument. The

scheme was so far just and to the purpose; the obvious drawback to the

value of the Treatises lay in their being special pleadings, backed by a

fee of a thousand pounds to each writer for maintaining one side. If a

similar fee had been given to nine equally able writers to represent the

other side, the argument from design would have been far more

satisfactorily sifted than by the exclusively metaphysical criticism of

Kant.

When theology is supported exclusively by such doctrines as--an

independent and immaterial soul, a special moral faculty, and what is

called free-will,--the metaphysician is a person of importance in the

contest; he is powerful either to uphold or to subvert the fabric. But,

if these were ever to constitute the chief stronghold of the faith, its

tenure would not be very secure. It is only a metaphysician, however,

that believes or disbelieves in metaphysical grounds alone; such a man

as Cousin, no doubt, rests his whole spiritual philosophy on this

foundation. But the great mass will either adhere to religion in spite

of metaphysical difficulties, or else abandon it notwithstanding its

metaphysical evidences. An eminent man now departed said in my hearing,

that he was a believer in Christianity until he became acquainted with

geology, when, finding the first chapter of Genesis at variance with

geological doctrines, he applied to the Bible the rule _falsus in uno,

falsus in omnibus,_ and thenceforth abandoned his old belief. I never

heard of any one that was so worked upon by a purely metaphysical

argument.

The aspect of theological doctrine that has come most to the front of

late is the question of the Divine goodness, as shown in the plan of the

universe. Speculations are divided between optimism and pessimism. How

shall we decide between these extremes, or, if repudiating both, how

shall we fix the mean? Is a metaphysician more especially qualified to

find out the truth? I hardly think so. I believe he could contribute,

with others, to such a solution as may be possible. He has, we shall

suppose, surveyed closely the compass of the human sensibilities, and is

able to assign, with more than common precision, what things operate on

them favourably or unfavourably. So far good. Then, as a logician, he is

more expert at detecting bad inferences in regard to the form of

reasoning; but whether certain allegations of fact are well or ill

founded, he may not be able to say, at least out of his own department.

If a mixed commission of ten were nominated to adjudicate upon this vast

problem, metaphysics might claim to be represented by two.

[FILLING THE THEOLOGICAL VOID.]

Least of all, do I understand the claims made in behalf of this

department to supply the spiritual void in case the old theology is no

longer accredited. When one looks closely at the stream and tendency of

thought, one sees a growing alliance and kinship between religion and

poetry or art. There is, as we know, a dogmatic, precise, severe,

logical side of theology, by which creeds are constructed, religious

tests imposed, and belief made a matter of legal compulsion. There is

also a sentimental, ideal, imaginative side that resists definition,

that refuses dogmatic prescription, and seeks only to satisfy spiritual

needs and emotions. Metaphysics may no doubt take a part in the dogmatic

or doctrinal treatment, but it must qualify itself by biblical study,

and become altogether theology. In the other aspect, metaphysics, as I

conceive it, is unavailing; the poet is the proper medium for keeping up

the emotional side, under all transformations of doctrinal belief. But

as conceived by others, metaphysics is philosophy and poetry in one, to

which I can never agree. The combination of the two, as hitherto

exhibited, has been made at the expense of both. The leading terms of

philosophy--reason, spirit, soul, the ideal, the infinite, the absolute,

phenomenal truth, being, consciousness--are lubricated with emotion, and

thrown together in ways that defy the understanding. The unintelligible,

which ought to be the shame of philosophy, is made its glory.

These remarks prepare for the conclusion that I arrive at as to the

scope of metaphysics with reference to the higher questions. That it has

bearings upon these questions I allow; and those bearings are

legitimately within the range of metaphysical debates. But I make a wide

distinction between metaphysical discussion and theological discussion;

and do not consider that they can be combined to advantage. In the great

latitude of free inquiry in the present day, theology is freely

canvassed, and societies might be properly devoted to that express

object; but I cannot see any benefit that would arise by a philosophical

society undertaking, in addition to its own province, to raise the

questions belonging to theology. I am well aware that there is one

society of very distinguished persons in the metropolis, calling itself

metaphysical, that freely ventures upon the perilous seas of theological

debate.[14] No doubt good comes from any exercise of the liberty of

discussion, so long restrained in this region; yet, I can hardly suppose

that purely metaphysical, studies can thrive in such a connection. Many

of the members must think far more of the theological issues than of the

cultivation of mental and logical science; and a purely metaphysical

debate can seldom be pursued with profit under these conditions.

* * * * *

[POLEMICS IN GREECE.]

I now pass to the POLEMICAL handling of the metaphysical subjects. We

owe to the Greeks the study of philosophy through methodised debate; and

the state of scientific knowledge in the age of the early Athenian

schools was favourable to that mode of treatment. The conversations of

Socrates, the Dialogues of Plato, and the Topics of Aristotle, are the

monuments of Greek contentiousness, turned to account as a great

refinement in social intercourse, as a stimulus to individual thought,

and a means of advancing at least the speculative departments of

knowledge. Grote, both in his "Plato," and in his "Aristotle," while

copiously illustrating all these consequences, has laid extraordinary

stress on still another aspect of the polemic of Socrates and Plato,

the aspect of _free-thought_, as against venerated tradition and the

received commonplaces of society. The assertion of the right of private

judgment in matters of doctrine and belief, was, according to Grote, the

greatest of all the fruits of the systematised negation begun by Zeno,

and carried out in the "Search Dialogues" of Plato. In the "Exposition

Dialogues" it is wanting; and in the "Topica," where Eristic is reduced

to method and system by one of Aristotle's greatest logical

achievements, the freethinker's wings are very much clipt; the execution

of Socrates probably had to answer for that. It is to the Platonic

dialogues that we look for the full grandeur of Grecian debate in all

its phases. The Plato of Grote is the apotheosis of Negation; it is not

a philosophy so much as an epic; the theme--"The Noble Wrath of the

Greek Dissenter".

At all times, there is much that has to be achieved by solitary

thinking. Some definite shape must be given to our thoughts before we

can submit them to the operation of other minds; the greater the

originality, the longer must be the process of solitary elaboration.

The "Principia" was composed from first to last by recluse meditation;

probably the attempt to discuss or debate any parts of it would have

only fretted and paralysed the author's invention. Indeed, after an

enormous strain of the constructive intellect, a man may be in no humour

to have his work carped at, even to improve it. In the region of fact,

in observation and experiment, there must be a mass of individual and

unassisted exertion. The use of allies in this region is to check and

confirm the accuracy of the first observer.

Again, an inquirer, by dint of prolonged familiarity with a subject, may

be his own best critic; he may be better able to detect flaws than any

one he could call in. This is another way of stating the superiority of

a particular individual over all others in the same walk. Such a

monarchical position as removes a man alike from the rivalry and from

the sympathy of his fellows, is the exception; mutual criticism and

mutual encouragement are the rule. The social stimulants are of avail in

knowledge and in truth as well as everything else.

A comparison of the state of speculation in the golden age of debate,

with the state of the sciences in the present day, both metaphysical and

physical, shows us clearly enough, what are the fields where polemic is

most profitable. I set aside the struggles of politics and theology, and

look to the scientific form of knowledge, which is, after all, the type

of our highest certainty everywhere. Now, undoubtedly, it is in

classifying, generalising, defining, and in the so-called logical

processes--induction and deduction--that a man can be least left to

himself. Until many men have gone over the same field of facts, a

classification, a definition, or an induction, cannot be held as safe

and sound. In modern science, there are numerous matters that have

passed through the fiery furnace of iterated criticism, seven times

purified; but there are, attaching to every science, a number of things

still in the furnace. Most of all does this apply to the metaphysical or

subject sciences, where, according to the popular belief, nothing has

yet passed finally out of the fiery trial. In psychology, in logic, in

eudaemonics, in sociology, in ethics, the facts are nearly all around

our feet; the question is how to classify, define, generalise, express

them. This was the situation of Zeno, Socrates, and Plato, for which

they invoked the militant ardour of the mind. Man, they saw, is a

fighting being; if fighting will do a thing, he will do it well.

[MOST USEFUL CLASSES OF DEBATES.]

In conformity with this view, the foremost class of debates, and

certainly not the least profitable, are such as discuss the meanings of

important terms. The genius of Socrates perceived that this was the

beginning of all valid knowledge, and, in seeing this, laid the

foundation of reasoned truth. I need not repeat the leading terms of

metaphysical philosophy; but you can at once understand the form of

proceeding by such an instance as "consciousness," debated so as to

bring out the question whether, as Hamilton supposed, it is necessarily

grounded on knowledge.

Next to the leading terms are the broader and more fundamental

generalities: for example, the law of relativity; the laws of memory and

its conditions, such as the intensity of the present consciousness;

Hamilton's inverse relationship of sensation and perception. These are

a few psychological instances. The value of a debate on any of these

questions depends entirely upon its resolving itself into an inductive

survey of the facts, and such surveys are never without fruit.

A debating society that includes logic in its sphere should cultivate

the methods of debate; setting an example to other societies and to

mankind in general. The "Topica" of Aristotle shows an immensity of

power expended on this object, doubtless without corresponding results.

Nevertheless the attempt, if resumed at the present day, with our

clearer and wider views of logical method, would not be barren. This is

too little thought of by us; and we may say that polemic, as an art, is

still immature. The best examples of procedure are to be found in the

Law Courts, some of whose methods might be borrowed in other debates.

For one thing, I think that each of the two leaders should provide the

members beforehand with a synopsis of the leading arguments or positions

to be set forth in the debate. This, I believe, should be insisted on

everywhere, not even excepting the debates of Parliament.

It is the custom of debating societies to alternate the Debate and the

Essay: a very important distinction, as it seems to me; and I will

endeavour to indicate how it should be maintained. Frequently there is

no substantial distinction observed; an essay is simply the opening of a

debate, and a debate the criticism of an essay. I should like to see the

two carried out each on its own principle, as I shall now endeavour to

explain.

[THE DEBATE: A FIGHT FOR MASTERY.]

The Debate is _the fight for mastery_ as between two sides. The

combatants strain their powers to say everything that can be said so

as to shake the case of their opponents. The debate is a field-day,

a challenge to a trial of strength. Now, while I admit that the

intellectual powers may be quickened to unusual perspicacity under the

sound of the trumpet and the shock of arms, I also see in the operation

many perils and shortcomings, when the subject of contest is truth. In

a heated controversy, only the more glaring and prominent facts,

considerations, doctrines, distinctions, can obtain a footing. Now truth

is the still small voice; it subsists often upon delicate differences,

unobtrusive instances, fine calculations. Whether or not man is a wholly

selfish being, may be submitted to a contentious debate, because the

facts and appearances on both sides are broad and palpable; but whether

all our actions are, in the last resort or final analysis,

self-regarding, is almost too delicate for debate. Chalmers upholds, as

a thesis, the intrinsic misery of the vicious affections: there could

not be a finer topic of pure debate.

My conception of the Essay, on the other hand, is that it should

represent _amicable co-operation_, with an eye to the truth. By it you

should rise from the lower or competitive, to the higher or communistic

attitude. There may be a loss of energy, but there is a gain in the

manner of applying it. The essayist should set himself to ascertain the

truth upon a subject; he should not be anxious to make a case. The

listeners, in the same spirit, should welcome all his suggestions, help

him out where he is in difficulties, be indulgent to his failings,

endeavour to see good in everything. If there be a real occasion for

debate, it should be purposely forborne and reserved. In propounding

subjects, the respective fitness for the debate and for the essay might

be taken into account.

[CO-OPERATIVE DISCUSSION IN THE ESSAY.]

When questions have been often debated without coming nearer to a

conclusion, it should be regarded as a sign that they are too delicate

and subtle for debate. A trial should then be made of the amicable or

co-operative treatment represented by the Essay. The Freedom of the Will

might, I think, be adjusted by friendly accommodation, but not by force

of contention. External Perception is beyond the province of debate.

It is fair and legitimate to try all problems by debate, in the first

instance, because the excitement quickens the intelligence, and leads to

new suggestions; but if the question involves an adjustment of various

considerations and minute differences, the contending sides will be

contentious still.

A society that really aims at the furtherance of knowledge, might test

its operations by now and then preparing a report of progress; setting

forth what problems had been debated, what themes elucidated, and with

what results. It would be very refreshing to see a candid avowal that

after several attempts--both debate and essay--some leading topic of the

department remained exactly where it stood at the outset. After such a

confession, the Society might well resolve itself into a Committee of

the Whole House, to consider its ways, and indeed its entire position,

with a view to a new start on some more hopeful track.

My closing remark is, as to avoiding debates that are in their very

nature interminable. It is easy to fix upon a few salient features that

make all the difference between a hopeful and a hopeless controversy.

For one thing, there is a certain intensity of emotion, interest, bias,

or prejudice if you will, that can neither reason nor be reasoned with.

On the purely intellectual side, the disqualifying circumstances are

complexity and vagueness. If a topic necessarily hauls in numerous other

topics of difficulty, the essay may do something for it, but not the

debate. Worst of all is the presence of several large, ill-defined, or

unsettled terms, of which there are still plenty in our department. A

not unfrequent case is a combination of the several defects each perhaps

in a small degree. A tinge of predilection or party, a double or triple

complication of doctrines, and one or two hazy terms, will make a debate

that is pretty sure to end as it began. Thus it is that a question,

plausible to appearance, may contain within it capacities of

misunderstanding, cross-purposes, and pointless issues, sufficient to

occupy the long night of Pandemonium, or beguile the journey to the

nearest fixed star.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 12: An Address, delivered on the 28th of March, 1877, to the

Edinburgh University Philosophical Society. CONTEMPORARY REVIEW, April,

1877.]

[Footnote 13: This very plausible utterance begs every question. There

would be some difficulty in condensing an equal amount of fallacy,

confusion of thought, in so few words.

In the first place, it assumes that the three requisites--health,

freedom from debt, and a good conscience--are matters of easy and

general attainment; that they are, in fact, the rule among human beings.

Is this really so?

Take Health, a word of very wide import. There is a certain small

amount, such as is marked by being out of the physician's hands, but

implying very little of the energy needed for the labours and the

enjoyment of life. There is a high and resplendent degree that renders

toil easy, and responds to the commonest stimulants, so that enjoyment

cannot be quashed without unusually unfavourable circumstances. The

first kind is widely diffused; the second is very rare, except in the

earlier portion of life. Most men and women, as they pass middle age,

lose the elasticity required for easy and spontaneous enjoyment, and,

even if they keep the appearance of health, have too little animal

spirits for enjoyment under cheap and ordinary excitements.

But there is more to be said. In order to obtain, and to retain, health,

freedom from debt, and a good conscience, there are pre-supposed very

considerable advantages. We cannot continue healthy and out of debt,

unless we have a fair start in life, that is, unless we have a tolerable

provision to begin with; a circumstance that the maxim keeps out of

sight.

Yet farther. The conditions named are of themselves mere negatives; they

imply simply the absence of certain decided causes of

unhappiness--ill-health, poverty, and bad conduct. There is a farther

stealthy assumption, namely, that the individual is placed in a

situation otherwise conducive to happiness. Health, absence of debt, and

a good conscience will not make happiness, under severe or ungenial

toil, irritation, ill-usage, affliction, sorrow,--- even if they could

be long maintained under such circumstances. Nor even, in the case of

exemption from the worst ills of life, can we be happy without some

positive agreeables--family, general society, amusements, and

gratifications. There is a certain degree of loneliness, seclusion,

dulness, that destroys happiness without sapping health, or miming us

into debt and vice.

The maxim, as expressed, professes to aim at happiness, but it more

properly belongs to duty. If we fail in the conditions mentioned, we run

the risk rather of neglecting our duties than of missing our pleasures.

It is not every form of ill-health that makes us miserable; and we may

become seared to debt and ill-conduct, so as to suffer only the

incidental misery of being dunned, which many can take with great

composure.

The definition of happiness by Paley is vague and incomplete; but it

does not omit the positive conditions. After health, Paley enumerates

the exercise of the affections and some engaging occupation or pursuit;

both which are highly relevant to the attainment of happiness. Indeed

with an exemption from cares, and a considerable share of the positive

gratifications, we can enjoy life on a very slender stock of health;

otherwise, where should we be in the inevitable decline that age brings

with it?]

[Footnote 14: This Society has since been dissolved.]

* * * * *

VI.

THE UNIVERSITY IDEAL--PAST AND PRESENT.[15]

GENTLEMEN,

By your flattering estimate of my services, I have been unexpectedly

summoned from retirement, to assume the honours and the duties of the

purple, and to occupy the most historically important office in the

Universities of Europe.

The present demands upon the Rectorship somewhat resemble what we are

told of the Homeric chief, who, in company with his Council or Senate,

the _Boulè_, and the Popular Assembly, or _Agora_, made up the political

constitution of the tribe. The functions of the chief, it is said, were

to supply wise counsel to the _Boulè_ (as we might call our Court), and

unctuous eloquence to the _Agora_. The second of these requirements is

what weighs upon me at the present moment.

Whatever may have been the practice of my predecessors, generally

strangers to you, it would be altogether unbecoming in me to travel out

of our University life, for the materials of an Address. My remarks then

will principally bear on the UNIVERSITY IDEAL.

[THE HIGHER TEACHING IN GREECE.]

Practical Essays · 第 10 / 21 段