"Though the idea of Absolute is thus contrasted with that of
Infinite, the one is equally fitted with the other to be predicated
of God; but not in respect of the same attributes. There is no
incorrectness of speech in the phrase Infinite Power: because the
notion it expresses is that of a Being who has the power of doing
all things which we know or can conceive, and more. But in speaking
of knowledge, Absolute is the proper word, and not Infinite. The
highest degree of knowledge that can be spoken of with a meaning,
only amounts to knowing all that there is to be known: when that
point is reached, knowledge has attained its utmost limit. So of
goodness or justice: they cannot be more than perfect. There are
not infinite degrees of right. The will is either entirely right,
or wrong in different degrees."--(P. 35.)
Surely, whatever Divine power can do, Divine knowledge can know as
possible to be done. The one, therefore, must be as infinite as the
other. And what of Divine goodness? An angel or a glorified saint is
absolutely good in Mr. Mill's sense of the term. His "will is entirely
right." Does Mr. Mill mean to say that there is no difference, even in
degree, between the goodness of God and that of one of His creatures?
But, even supposing his statement to be true, how is it relevant to the
matter under discussion? Can Mr. Mill possibly be ignorant that all these
attributes are relations; that the Absolute in Hamilton's sense, "the
unconditionally limited," is not predicable of God at all; and that when
divines and philosophers speak of the absolute nature of God, they mean a
nature in which there is no distinction of attributes at all?
Mr. Mill then proceeds to give a summary of Hamilton's arguments against
Cousin, preparatory to refuting them. In the course of this summary he
says:--
"Let me ask, _en passant_, where is the necessity for supposing
that, if the Absolute, or, to speak plainly, if God, is only known
to us in the character of a cause, he must therefore 'exist merely
as a cause,' and be merely 'a mean towards an end?' It is surely
possible to maintain that the Deity is known to us only as he who
feeds the ravens, without supposing that the Divine Intelligence
exists solely in order that the ravens may be fed."[AN]--(P.
42.)
[AN] In a note to this passage, Mr. Mill makes some sarcastic
comments on an argument of Hamilton's against Cousin's
theory that God is necessarily determined to create. "On
this hypothesis," says Hamilton, "God, as necessarily
determined to pass from absolute essence to relative
manifestation, is determined to pass either from the
better to the worse, or from the worse to the better."
Mr. Mill calls this argument "a curiosity of
dialectics," and answers, "Perfect wisdom would have
begun to will the new state at the precise moment when
it began to be better than the old." Hamilton is not
speaking of states of things, but of states of the
Divine nature, as creative or not creative; and Mr.
Mill's argument, to refute Hamilton, must suppose a time
when the new nature of God begins to be better than the
old! Mr. Mill would perhaps have spoken of Hamilton's
argument with more respect had he known that it is taken
from Plato.
On this we would remark, _en passant_, that this is precisely
Hamilton's own doctrine, that the sphere of our belief is more extensive
than that of our knowledge. The purport of Hamilton's argument is to show
that the Absolute, as conceived by Cousin, is not a true Absolute
(_Infinito-Absolute_), and therefore does not represent the real nature
of God. His argument is this: "Cousin's Absolute exists merely as a
cause: God does not exist merely as a cause: therefore Cousin's Absolute
is not God." Mr. Mill actually mistakes the position which Hamilton is
opposing for that which he is maintaining. Such an error does not lead
us to expect much from his subsequent refutation.
His first criticism is a curious specimen of his reading in philosophy.
He says:--
"When the True or the Beautiful are spoken of, the phrase is meant
to include all things whatever that are true, or all things
whatever that are beautiful. If this rule is good for other
abstractions, it is good for the Absolute. The word is devoid of
meaning unless in reference to predicates of some sort.... If we
are told, therefore, that there is some Being who is, or which is,
the Absolute,--not something absolute, but the Absolute
itself,--the proposition can be understood in no other sense than
that the supposed Being possesses in absolute completeness _all_
predicates; is absolutely good and absolutely bad; absolutely wise
and absolutely stupid; and so forth."[AO]--(P. 43.)
[AO] In support of this position, Mr. Mill cites Hegel--"What
kind of an absolute Being is that which does not contain
in itself all that is actual, even evil included?" We
are not concerned to defend Hegel's position; but he was
not quite so absurd as to mean what Mr. Mill supposes
him to have meant. Does not Mr. Mill know that it was
one of Hegel's fundamental positions, that the Divine
nature cannot be expressed by a plurality of
predicates?
Plato expressly distinguishes between "the beautiful" and "things that
are beautiful," as the One in contrast to the Many--the Real in contrast
to the Apparent.[AP] It is, of course, quite possible that Plato may be
wrong, and Mr. Mill right; but the mere fact of their antagonism is
sufficient to show that the meaning of "the phrase" need not be what Mr.
Mill supposes it must be. In fact, "the Absolute" in philosophy always
has meant the One as distinguished from the Many, not the One as
including the Many. But, as applied to Sir W. Hamilton, Mr. Mill's
remarks on "the Absolute," and his subsequent remarks on "the Infinite,"
not only misrepresent Hamilton's position, but exactly reverse it.
Hamilton maintains that the terms "absolute" and "infinite" are perfectly
intelligible as abstractions, as much so as "relative" and "finite;" for
"correlatives suggest each other," and the "knowledge of contradictories
is one;" but he denies that a concrete thing or object can be positively
conceived as absolute or infinite. Mr. Mill represents him as only
proving that the "unmeaning abstractions are unknowable,"--abstractions
which Hamilton does not assert to be unmeaning; and which he regards as
knowable in the only sense in which such abstractions can be known, viz.,
by understanding the meaning of their names.[AQ]
[AP] _Republic_, book v., p. 479.
[AQ] This confusion between conceiving a concrete thing and
knowing the meaning of abstract terms is as old as
Toland's _Christianity not Mysterious_, and, indeed, has
its germ, though not its development, in the teaching of
his assumed master, Locke. Locke taught that all our
knowledge is founded on simple ideas, and that a complex
idea is merely an accumulation of simple ones. Hence
Toland maintained that no object could be mysterious or
inconceivable if the terms in which its several
attributes are expressed have ideas corresponding to
them. But, in point of fact, no simple idea can be
conceived as an object by itself, though the word by
which it is signified has a perfectly intelligible
meaning. I cannot, _e.g._, conceive whiteness by itself,
though I can conceive a white wall, _i.e._, whiteness in
combination with other attributes in a concrete object.
To conceive attributes as coexisting, however, we must
conceive them as coexisting in a certain manner; for an
object of conception is not a mere heap of ideas, but an
organized whole, whose constituent ideas exist in a
particular combination with and relation to each other.
To conceive, therefore, we must not only be able to
apprehend each idea separately in the abstract, but also
the manner in which they may possibly exist in
combination with each other.
"Something infinite," says Mr. Mill, "is a conception which, like
most of our complex ideas, contains a negative element, but which
contains positive elements also. Infinite space, for instance; is
there nothing positive in that? The negative part of this
conception is the absence of bounds. The positive are, the idea of
space, and of space greater than any finite space."--(P. 45.)
This definition of _infinite space_ is exactly that which Descartes
gives us of _indefinite extension_,--"Ita quia non possumus imaginari
extensionem tam magnam, quin intelligamus adhuc majorem esse posse,
dicemus magnitudinem rerum possibilium esse indefinitam."[AR] So too,
Cudworth,--"There appeareth no sufficient ground for this positive
infinity of space; we being certain of no more than this, that be the
world or any figurative body never so great, it is not impossible but that
it might be still greater and greater without end. Which _indefinite
increasableness_ of body and space seems to be mistaken for a _positive
infinity_ thereof."[AS] And Locke, a philosopher for whom Mr. Mill
will probably have more respect than for Descartes or Cudworth, writes
more plainly: "To have actually in the mind the idea of a space infinite,
is to suppose the mind already passed over, and actually to have a view
of all those repeated ideas of space, which an endless repetition can
never totally represent to it,--which carries in it a plain
contradiction."[AT] Mr. Mill thus unwittingly illustrates, in his own
person, the truth of Hamilton's remark, "If we dream of effecting this
[conceiving the infinite in time or space], we only deceive ourselves by
substituting the _indefinite_ for the infinite, than which no two notions
can be more opposed." In fact, Mr. Mill does not seem to be aware that
what the mathematician calls _infinite_, the metaphysician calls
_indefinite_, and that arguments drawn from the mathematical use of the
term _infinite_ are wholly irrelevant to the metaphysical. How, indeed,
could it be otherwise? Can any man suppose that, when the Divine
attributes are spoken of as infinite, it is meant that they are
indefinitely increasable?[AU]
[AR] _Principia_, i., 26.
[AS] _Intellectual System_, ed. Harrison, vol. iii., p. 131.
[AT] _Essay_, ii., 17, 7.
[AU] One of the ablest mathematicians, and the most
persevering Hamiltono-mastix of the day, maintains the
applicability of the metaphysical notion of infinity to
mathematical magnitudes; but with an assumption which
unintentionally vindicates Hamilton's position more
fully than could have been done by a professed disciple.
"I shall assume," says Professor De Morgan, in a paper
recently printed among the _Transactions of the
Cambridge Philosophical Society_, "the notion of
infinity and of its reciprocal infinitesimal: that a
line can be conceived infinite, and therefore having
points at an infinite distance. Image apart, which we
cannot have, it seems to me clear that a line of
infinite length, without points at an infinite distance,
is a contradiction." Now it is easy to show, by mere
reasoning, without any image, that this assumption is
equally a contradiction. For if space is finite, every
line in space must be finite also; and if space is
infinite, every point in space must have infinite space
beyond it in every direction, and therefore cannot be at
the greatest possible distance from another point. Or
thus: Any two points in space are the extremities of the
line connecting them; but an infinite line has no
extremities; therefore no two points in space can be
connected together by an infinite line.
In fact, it is the "concrete reality," the "something infinite," and not
the mere abstraction of infinity, which is only conceivable as a
negation. Every "something" that has ever been intuitively present to my
consciousness is a something finite. When, therefore, I speak of a
"something infinite," I mean a something existing in a different manner
from all the "somethings" of which I have had experience in intuition.
Thus it is apprehended, not positively, but negatively--not directly by
what it is, but indirectly by what it is not. A negative idea is not
negative because it is expressed by a negative term, but because it has
never been realised in intuition. If infinity, as applied to space, means
the same thing as being greater than any finite space, both conceptions
are equally positive or equally negative. If it does not mean the same
thing, then, in conceiving a space greater than any finite space, we do
not conceive an infinite space.
Mr. Mill's next string of criticisms may be very briefly dismissed.
First, Hamilton does _not_, as Mr. Mill asserts, say that "the
Unconditioned is inconceivable, because it includes both the Infinite and
the Absolute, and these are contradictory of one another." His argument
is a common disjunctive syllogism. The unconditioned, if conceivable at
all, must be conceived _either_ as the absolute _or_ as the infinite;
neither of these is possible; therefore the unconditioned is not
conceivable at all. Nor, secondly, is Sir W. Hamilton guilty of the
"strange confusion of ideas" which Mr. Mill ascribes to him, when he says
that the Absolute, as being absolutely One, cannot be known under the
conditions of plurality and difference. The absolute, as such, must be
out of all relation, and consequently cannot be conceived in the relation
of plurality. "The plurality required," says Mr. Mill, "is not within the
thing itself, but is made up between itself and other things." It is, in
fact, both; but even granting Mr. Mill's assumption, what is a "plurality
between a thing and other things" but a relation between them? There is
undoubtedly a "strange confusion of ideas" in this paragraph; but the
confusion is not on the part of Sir W. Hamilton. "Again," continues Mr.
Mill, "even if we concede that a thing cannot be known at all unless
known as plural, does it follow that it cannot be known as plural because
it is also One? Since when have the One and the Many been incompatible
things, instead of different aspects of the same thing?... If there is
any meaning in the words, must not Absolute Unity be Absolute Plurality
likewise?" Mr. Mill's "since when?" may be answered in the words of
Plato:--"[Greek: Ouden emoige atopon dokei heinai ei hen hapanta
apophainei tis tô metechein· tou henos kai tauta tauta polla tô
plêthous au metechein; all' ei ho estin hen, auto touto polla apodeixei,
kai au ta polla dê hen, touto êdê thaumasomai.]"[AV] Here we are
expressly told that "absolute unity" cannot be "absolute plurality." Mr.
Mill may say that Plato is wrong; but he will hardly go so far as to say
that there is no meaning in his words. In point of fact, however, it is
Mr. Mill who is in error, and not Plato. In different relations, no
doubt, the same concrete object may be regarded as one or as many. The
same measure is one foot or twelve inches; the same sum is one shilling
or twelve pence; but it no more follows that "absolute unity must be
absolute plurality likewise," than it follows from the above instances
that one is equal to twelve. And, thirdly, when Mr. Mill accuses Sir W.
Hamilton of departing from his own meaning of the term _absolute_, in
maintaining that the Absolute cannot be a Cause, he only shows that he
does not himself know what Hamilton's meaning is. "If Absolute," he says,
"means finished, perfected, completed, may there not be a finished,
perfected, and completed Cause?" Hamilton's Absolute is that which is
"_out of relation_, as finished, perfect, complete;" and a Cause, as
such, is both in relation and incomplete. It is in relation to its
effect; and it is incomplete without its effect. Finally, when Mr. Mill
charges Sir W. Hamilton with maintaining "that extension and figure are
of the essence of matter, and perceived as such by intuition," we must
briefly reply that Hamilton does no such thing. He is not speaking of the
essence of matter _per se_, but only of matter as apprehended in relation
to us.
[AV] _Parmenides_, p. 129.
Mr. Mill concludes this chapter with an attempt to discover the meaning
of Hamilton's assertion, "to think is to condition." We have already
explained what Hamilton meant by this expression; and we recur to the
subject now, only to show the easy manner in which Mr. Mill manages to
miss the point of an argument with the clue lying straight before him.
"Did any," he says (of those who say that the Absolute is thinkable),
"profess to think it in any other manner than by distinguishing it from
other things?" Now this is the very thing which, according to Hamilton,
Schelling actually did. Mr. Mill does not attempt to show that Hamilton
is wrong in his interpretation of Schelling, nor, if he is right, what
were the reasons which led Schelling to so paradoxical a position: he
simply assumes that no man could hold Schelling's view, and there is an
end of it.[AW] Hamilton's purpose is to reassert in substance the
doctrine which Kant maintained, and which Schelling denied; and the
natural way to ascertain his meaning would be by reference to these two
philosophers. But this is not the method of Mr. Mill, here or elsewhere.
He generally endeavours to ascertain Hamilton's meaning by ranging the
wide field of possibilities. He tells us what a phrase means in certain
authors of whom Hamilton is not thinking, or in reference to certain
matters which Hamilton is not discussing; but he hardly ever attempts to
trace the history of Hamilton's own view, or the train of thought by
which it suggested itself to his mind. And the result of this is, that
Mr. Mill's interpretations are generally in the potential mood. He wastes
a good deal of conjecture in discovering what Hamilton might have meant,
when a little attention in the right quarter would have shown what he did
mean.
[AW] Mr. Mill does not expressly name Schelling in this
sentence: but he does so shortly afterwards; and his
remark is of the same character with the previous one.
"Even Schelling," he says, "was not so gratuitously
absurd as to deny that the Absolute must be known
according to the capacities of that which knows
it--though he was forced to invent a special capacity
for the purpose." But if this capacity is an "invention"
of Schelling's, and if he was "forced" to invent it,
Hamilton's point is proved. To think, according to all
the real operations of thought which consciousness makes
known to us, is to condition. And the faculty of the
unconditioned is an invention of Schelling's, not known
to consciousness. In other words: all our real faculties
bear witness to the truth of Hamilton's statement; and
the only way of controverting it is to invent an
imaginary faculty for the purpose.
The third feature of Hamilton's philosophy which we charged Mr. Mill with
misunderstanding, is the distinction between Knowledge and Belief. In the
early part of this article, we endeavoured to explain the true nature of
this distinction; we have now only a very limited space to notice Mr.
Mill's criticisms on it. Hamilton, he says, admitted "a second source of
intellectual conviction called Belief." Now Belief is not a "source" of
any conviction, but the conviction itself. No man would say that he is
convinced of the truth of a proposition _because_ he believes it; his
belief in its truth is the same thing as his conviction of its truth.
Belief, then, is not a source of conviction, but a conviction having
sources of its own. The question is, have we legitimate sources of
conviction, distinct from those which constitute Knowledge properly so
called? Now here it should be remembered that the distinction is not one
invented by Hamilton to meet the exigencies of his own system. He
enumerates as many as twenty-two authors, of the most various schools of
philosophy, who all acknowledged it before him. Such a concurrence is no
slight argument in favour of the reality of the distinction. We do not
say that these writers, or Hamilton himself, have always expressed this
distinction in the best language, or applied it in the best manner; but
we say that it is a true distinction, and that it is valid for the
principal purpose to which Hamilton applied it.
We do not agree with all the details of Hamilton's application. We do not
agree with him, though he is supported by very eminent authorities, in
classifying our conviction of axiomatic principles as _belief_, and not
as _knowledge_.[AX] But this question does not directly bear on Mr.
Mill's criticism. The point of that criticism is, that Hamilton, by
admitting a _belief_ in the infinite and unrelated, nullifies his own
doctrine, that all _knowledge_ is of the finite and relative. Let us
see.
[AX] Hamilton's distinction is in principle the same as that
which we have given in our previous remarks (pp. 18,
19). He says, "A conviction is incomprehensible when
there is merely given to us in consciousness--_That its
object is_ ([Greek: hoti esti]), and when we are unable
to comprehend through a higher notion or belief _Why or
How it is_ ([Greek: dioti esti])."--(Reid's Works, p.
754.) We would distinguish between _why_ and _how_,
between [Greek: dioti], and [Greek: pôs]. We can give
no reason _why_ two straight lines cannot enclose a
space; but we can comprehend _how_ they cannot. We have
only to form the corresponding image, to see the manner
in which the two attributes coexist in one object. But
when I say that I believe in the existence of a
spiritual being who sees without eyes, I cannot conceive
the _manner_ in which seeing coexists with the absence
of the bodily organ of sight. We believe that the true
distinction between knowledge and belief may ultimately
be referred to the presence or absence of the
corresponding intuition; but to show this in the various
instances would require a longer dissertation than our
present limits will allow.
We may believe _that_ a thing is, without being able to conceive _how_ it
is. I believe _that_ God is a person, and also _that_ He is infinite;
though I cannot conceive _how_ the attributes of personality and infinity
exist together. All my knowledge of personality is derived from my
consciousness of my own finite personality. I therefore believe in the
coexistence of attributes in God, in some manner different from that in
which they coexist in me as limiting each other: and thus I believe in
the fact, though I am unable to conceive the manner. So, again, Kant
brings certain counter arguments, to prove, on the one side, that the
world has a beginning in time, and, on the other side, that it has not a
beginning. Now suppose I am unable to refute either of these courses of
argument, am I therefore compelled to have no belief at all? May I not
say, I believe, in spite of Kant, _that_ the world has a beginning in
time, though I am unable to conceive _how_ it can have so begun? What is
this, again, but a belief in an absolute reality beyond the sphere of my
relative knowledge?
"I am not now considering," says Mr. Mill, "what it is that, in our
author's opinion, we are bound to believe concerning the unknowable."
Why, this was the very thing he ought to have considered, before
pronouncing the position to be untenable, or to be irreconcilable with
something else. Meanwhile, it is instructive to observe that Mr. Mill
himself believes, or requires his readers to believe, something
concerning the unknown. He does not know, or at any rate he does not tell
his readers, what Hamilton requires them to believe concerning the
unknowable; but he himself believes, and requires them to believe, that
this unknown something is incompatible with the doctrine that knowledge
is relative. We cannot regard this as a very satisfactory mode of
refuting Hamilton's thesis.[AY]
[AY] In a subsequent chapter (p. 120), Mr. Mill endeavours to
overthrow this distinction between Knowledge and Belief,
by means of Hamilton's own theory of Consciousness.
Hamilton maintains that we cannot be conscious of a
mental operation without being conscious of its object.
On this Mr. Mill retorts that if, as Hamilton admits, we
are conscious of a belief in the Infinite and the
Absolute, we must be conscious of the Infinite and the
Absolute themselves; and such consciousness is
Knowledge. The fallacy of this retort is transparent.
The immediate object of Belief is a _proposition_ which
I hold to be true, not a _thing_ apprehended in an act
of conception. I believe in an infinite God; _i.e._, I
believe _that_ God is infinite: I believe that the
attributes which I ascribe to God exist in Him in an
infinite degree. Now, to believe this proposition, I
must, of course, be conscious of its meaning; but I am
not therefore conscious of the Infinite God as an object
of conception; for this would require further an
apprehension of the manner in which these infinite
attributes coexist so as to form one object. The whole
argument of this eighth chapter is confused, owing to
Mr. Mill not having distinguished between those passages
in which Sir W. Hamilton is merely using an _argumentum
ad hominem_ in relation to Reid, and those in which he
is reasoning from general principles.
But if Mr. Mill is unjust towards the distinction between Knowledge and
Belief, as held by Sir W. Hamilton, he makes ample amends to the injured
theory in the next chapter, by enlarging the province of credibility far
beyond any extent which Hamilton would have dreamed of claiming for it.
Conceivability or inconceivability, he tells us, are usually dependent on
association; and it is quite possible that, under other associations, we
might be able to conceive, and therefore to believe, anything short of
the direct contradiction that the same thing is and is not. It is not in
itself incredible, that a square may at the same time be round, that two
straight lines may enclose a space, or even that two and two may make
five.[AZ] But whatever concessions Mr. Mill may make on this point, he
is at least fully determined that Sir W. Hamilton shall derive no benefit
from them; for he forthwith proceeds to charge Sir William with confusing
three distinct senses of the term _conception_--a confusion which exists
solely in his own imagination,[BA]--and to assert that the Philosophy
of the Conditioned is entirely founded on a mistake, inasmuch as infinite
space on the one hand, and, on the other, both an absolute minimum and an
infinite divisibility of space, are perfectly conceivable. With regard to
the former of these two assertions, Mr. Mill's whole argument is
vitiated, as we have already shown, by his confusion between _infinite_
and _indefinite_; but it is worth while to quote one of his special
instances in this chapter, as a specimen of the kind of reasoning which
an eminent writer on logic can sometimes employ. In reference to Sir W.
Hamilton's assertion, that infinite space would require infinite time to
conceive it, he says, "Let us try the doctrine upon a complex whole,
short of infinite, such as the number 695,788. Sir W. Hamilton would not,
I suppose, have maintained that this number is inconceivable. How long
did he think it would take to go over every separate unit of this whole,
so as to obtain a perfect knowledge of the exact sum, as different from
all other sums, either greater or less?"
[AZ] In reference to this last paradox, Mr. Mill quotes from
_Essays by a Barrister_: "There is a world in which,
whenever two pairs of things are either placed in
proximity or are contemplated together, a fifth thing is
immediately created and brought within the contemplation
of the mind engaged in putting two and two together....
In such a world surely two and two would make five. That
is, the result to the mind of contemplating two twos
would be to count five." The answer to this reasoning
has been already given by Archdeacon Lee in his Essay on
Miracles. The "five" in this case is not the sum of two
and two, but of two and two _plus_ the new creature,
_i.e._, of two and two _plus_ one.
[BA] The sense in which Sir W. Hamilton himself uses the word
_conception_ is explained in a note to _Reid's Works_,
p. 377--namely, the combination of two or more
attributes in a _unity of representation_. The second
sense which Mr. Mill imagines is simply a mistake of his
own. When Hamilton speaks of being "unable to conceive
as possible," he does not mean, as Mr. Mill supposes,
physically possible under the law of gravitation or some
other law of matter, but mentally possible as a
representation or image; and thus the supposed second
sense is identical with the first. The third sense may
also be reduced to the first; for to conceive two
attributes as combined in one representation is to form
a notion subordinate to those of each attribute
separately. We do not say that Sir W. Hamilton has been
uniformly accurate in his application of the test of
conceivability; but we say that his inaccuracies, such
as they are, do not affect the theory of the
conditioned, and that in all the long extracts which Mr.
Mill quotes, with footnotes, indicating "first sense,"
"second sense," "third sense," the author's meaning may
be more accurately explained in the first sense only.
It is marvellous that it should not have occurred to Mr. Mill, while he
was writing this passage, "How comes this large number to be a 'whole' at
all; and how comes it that 'this whole,' with all its units, can be
written down by means of six digits?" Simply because of a conventional
arrangement, by which a single digit, according to its position, can
express, by one mark, tens, hundreds, thousands, &c., of units; and thus
can exhaust the sum by dealing with its items in large masses. But how
can such a process exhaust the infinite? We should like to know how long
Mr. Mill thinks it would take to work out the following problem:--"If two
figures can represent ten, three a hundred, four a thousand, five ten
thousand, &c., find the number of figures required to represent
infinity."[BB]
[BB] Precisely the same misconception of Hamilton's position
occurs in Professor De Morgan's paper in the _Cambridge
Transactions_, to which we have previously referred. He
speaks (p. 13) of the "notion, which runs through many
writers, from Descartes to Hamilton, that the mind must
be big enough to _hold_ all it can conceive." This
notion is certainly not maintained by Hamilton, nor yet
by Descartes in the paragraph quoted by Mr. De Morgan;
nor, as far as we are aware, in any other part of his
works.
Infinite divisibility stands or falls with infinite extension. In both
cases Mr. Mill confounds infinity with indefiniteness. But with regard to
an absolute minimum of space, Mr. Mill's argument requires a separate
notice.
"It is not denied," he says, "that there is a portion of extension
which to the naked eye appears an indivisible point; it has been
called by philosophers the _minimum visibile_. This minimum we can
indefinitely magnify by means of optical instruments, making
visible the still smaller parts which compose it. In each
successive experiment there is still a _minimum visibile_, anything
less than which cannot be discovered with that instrument, but can
with one of a higher power. Suppose, now, that as we increase the
magnifying power of our instruments, and before we have reached the
limit of possible increase, we arrive at a stage at which that
which seemed the smallest visible space under a given microscope,
does not appear larger under one which, by its mechanical
construction, is adapted to magnify more, but still remains
apparently indivisible. I say, that if this happened, we should
believe in a minimum of extension; or if some _à priori_
metaphysical prejudice prevented us from believing it, we should at
least be enabled to conceive it."--(P. 84.)
The natural conclusion of most men under such circumstances would be,
that there was some fault in the microscope. But even if this conclusion
were rejected, we presume Mr. Mill would allow that, under the supposed
circumstances, the exact magnitude of the minimum of extension would be
calculable. We have only to measure the _minimum visibile_, and know what
is the magnifying power of our microscope, to determine the exact
dimensions. Suppose, then, that we assign to it some definite
magnitude--say the ten billionth part of an inch,--should we then
conclude that it is impossible to conceive the twenty billionth part of
an inch?--in other words, that we have arrived at a definite magnitude
which has no conceivable half? Surely this is a somewhat rash concession
to be made by a writer who has just told us that numbers may be conceived
up to infinity; and therefore, of course, down to infinitesimality.
Mr. Mill concludes this chapter with an assertion which, even by itself,
is sufficient to show how very little he has attended to or understood
the philosophy which he is attempting to criticise. "The law of Excluded
Middle," he says, "as well as that of Contradiction, is common to all
phenomena. But it is a doctrine of our author that these laws are true,
and cannot but be known to be true, of Noumena likewise. It is not merely
Space as cognisable by our senses, but Space as it is in itself, which he
affirms must be either of unlimited or of limited extent" (p. 86). At
this sentence we fairly stand aghast. "Space as it is in itself!" the
Noumenon Space! Has Mr. Mill been all this while "examining" Sir William
Hamilton's philosophy, in utter ignorance that the object of that
philosophy is the "Conditioned in Time and _Space_;" that he accepts
Kant's analysis of time and space as formal necessities of thought, but
pronounces no opinion whatever as to whether time and space can exist as
Noumena or not? It is the phenomenal space, "space as cognisable by our
senses," which Sir W. Hamilton says must be either limited or unlimited:
concerning the Noumenon Space, he does not hazard an opinion whether such
a thing exists or not. He says, indeed (and this is probably what has
misled Mr. Mill), that the laws of Identity, Contradiction, and Excluded
Middle, are laws of things as well as laws of thought;[BC] but he says
nothing about these laws as predicating infinite or finite extension. On
the contrary, he expressly classifies Space under the law of Relativity,
the violation of which indicates what may exist, but what we are unable
to conceive as existing. Briefly, the law of Excluded Middle (to take
this instance alone) is a law of things only in its abstract form,
"Everything must be A or not A" (_extended_, if you please, or _not
extended_); but in its subordinate form, "Everything extended must be
extended infinitely or finitely," it is only applicable, and only
intended by Hamilton to be applied, to those _phenomena_ which are
already given as extended in some degree.
[BC] _Discussions_, p. 603.
We have now examined the first six chapters of Mr. Mill's book,
containing his remarks on that portion of Sir W. Hamilton's philosophy
which he justly regards as comprising the most important of the doctrines
which specially belong to Hamilton himself. The next chapter is an
episode, in which Mr. Mill turns aside from Sir W. Hamilton to criticise
Mr. Mansel's _Bampton Lectures_. As our limits do not permit us to carry
on the argument at present through the remainder of Mr. Mill's remarks on
Hamilton himself, we shall conclude our notice with a few words on this
chapter, as closing the properly metaphysical portion of Mr. Mill's book,
and as affording ample proof that, in this department of philosophy at
least, Mr. Mill's powers of misapprehension do not cease when Sir W.
Hamilton is no longer their object.
Mr. Mill's method of criticism makes it generally necessary to commence
with a statement of the criticised theory as it really is, before
proceeding to his exposition of it as it is not. The present instance
offers no exception to this rule. Mr. Mansel's argument may be briefly
stated as follows. The primary and essential conception of God,
imperatively demanded by our moral and religious consciousness, is that
of a _person_. But personality implies intellectual and moral attributes;
and the only direct and immediate knowledge which we have of such
attributes is derived from the testimony of self-consciousness, bearing
witness to their existence in a certain manner in ourselves. But when we
endeavour to transfer the conception of personality, thus obtained, to
the domain of theology, we meet with certain difficulties, which, while
they are not sufficient to hinder us from _believing_ in the Divine
Personality as a fact, yet hinder us from _conceiving_ the manner of its
existence, and prevent us from exhibiting our belief as a philosophical
conclusion, proved by irrefragable reasoning and secured against all
objections. These difficulties are occasioned, on the one hand, by the
so-called Philosophy of the Unconditioned, which in all ages has shown a
tendency towards Pantheism, and which, in one of its latest and most
finished manifestations, announces itself as the exhibition of God as He
is in His eternal nature before creation; and, on the other hand, by the
limitations and conditions to which our own personality is subject, and
which, as we have pointed out in the earlier part of this article, have,
from the very beginning of Christian theology, prevented theologians from
accepting the limited personality of man as an exact image and
counterpart of the unlimited personality of God. These difficulties Mr.
Mansel endeavours to meet in two ways. On the one side, he maintains, in
common with Sir W. Hamilton, that the Philosophy of the Unconditioned, by
reason of its own incongruities and self-contradictions, has no claim to
be accepted as a competent witness in the matter; and on the other side,
he maintains, in common with many theologians before him, that human
personality cannot be assumed as an exact copy of the Divine, but only as
that which is most nearly analogous to it among finite things. But these
two positions, if admitted, involve a corresponding practical conclusion
as regards the criterion of religious truth or falsehood. Were we
capable, either, on the one hand, of a clear conception of the
Unconditioned, or, on the other, of a direct intuition of the Divine
Attributes as objects of consciousness, we might be able to construct,
deductively or inductively, an exact science of Theology. As it is, we
are compelled to reason by analogy; and analogy furnishes only
probabilities, varying, it may be, from slight presumptions up to moral
certainties, but whose weight, in any given case, can only be determined
by comparison with other evidences. There are three distinct sources from
which we may form a judgment about the ways of God--first, from our own
moral and intellectual consciousness, by which we judge _à priori_ of
what God ought to do in a given case, by determining what we should think
it wise or right for ourselves to do in a similar case; secondly, from
the constitution and course of nature, from which we may learn by
experience what God's providence in certain cases actually is; and
thirdly, from revelation, attested by its proper evidences. Where these
three agree in their testimony (as in the great majority of cases they
do) we have the moral certainty which results from the harmony of all
accessible evidences: where they appear to differ, we have no right at
once to conclude that the second or the third must give way to the first,
and not _vice versâ_; because we have no right to assume that the first
alone is infallible. In the author's own words: "The lesson to be learnt
from an examination of the Limits of Religious Thought is not that man's
judgments are _worthless_ in relation to Divine things, but that they are
_fallible_: and the probability of error in any particular case can never
be fairly estimated without giving their full weight to all collateral
considerations. We are indeed bound to believe that a Revelation given by
God can never contain anything that is really unwise or unrighteous; but
we are not always capable of estimating exactly the wisdom or
righteousness of particular doctrines or precepts. And we are bound to
bear in mind that _exactly in proportion to the strength of the remaining
evidence for the Divine origin of a religion, is the probability that we
may be mistaken in supposing this or that portion of its contents to be
unworthy of God._ Taken in conjunction, the two arguments may confirm or
correct each other: taken singly and absolutely, each may vitiate the
result which should follow from their joint application."[BD]
[BD] _Bampton Lectures_, p. 156, 4th edition.
In criticising the first part of this argument--that which is directed
against the deductive philosophy of the Unconditioned--Mr. Mill manifests
the same want of acquaintance with its meanings, and with the previous
history of the question; which he had before exhibited in his attack on
Sir W. Hamilton. He begins by finding fault with the definition of the
Absolute, which Mr. Mansel (herein departing, and purposely departing,
from Sir W. Hamilton's use of the term) defines as "that which exists in
and by itself, having no necessary relation to any other Being." On this,
Mr. Mill remarks: "The first words of his definition would serve for the
description of a Noumenon; but Mr. Mansel's Absolute is only meant to
denote one Being, identified with God, and God is not the only Noumenon."
The description of a Noumenon! This is almost equal to the discovery of a
Noumenon Space. Does Mr. Mill really suppose that all noumena are
self-existent? A _noumenon_ (in the sense in which we suppose Mr. Mill to
understand the term, for it has different meanings in different
philosophies) implies an existence out of relation to the human
mind.[BE] But is this the same as being out of all relation whatever,
as existing "in and by itself?" Does Mr. Mill mean to say that a
creature, whether perceived by us or not, has no relation to its Creator?
But Mr. Mill, as we have seen before, is not much at home when he gets
among "noumena." We must proceed to his criticism of the second part of
the definition,--"having no necessary relation to any other being." Of
these words he says, that "they admit of two constructions. The words in
their natural sense only mean, _capable of existing out of relation to
anything else_. The argument requires that they should mean _incapable of
existing in relation with anything else_." And why is this non-natural
sense to be forced upon very plain words? Because, says Mr. Mill,--
[BE] Strictly speaking, the term _noumenon_, as meaning that
which can be apprehended only by the intellect, implies
a relation to the intellect apprehending it; and in this
sense [Greek: to nooumenon] is opposed by Plato to
[Greek: to horômenon]--the object of intellect to the
object of sight. But as the intellect was supposed to
take cognisance of things as they are, in opposition to
the sensitive perception of things as they appear, the
term _noumenon_ became synonymous with _thing in itself_
([Greek: to hon kath' hauto]). And this meaning is
retained in the Kantian philosophy, in which the
_noumenon_ is identical with the _Ding an sich_. But as
Kant denied to the human intellect any immediate
intuition of things as they are (though such an
intuition may be possible to a superhuman intellect),
hence the term _noumenon_ in the Kantian philosophy is
opposed to all of which the human intellect can take
positive cognisance. Hamilton, in this respect, agrees
with Kant. But neither Kant nor Hamilton, in opposing
the _thing in itself_ to the _phenomenon_, meant to
imply that the former is necessarily self-existent, and
therefore uncreated.
"In what manner is a possible existence out of all relation,
incompatible with the notion of a cause? Have not causes a possible
existence apart from their effects? Would the sun, for example, not
exist if there were no earth or planets for it to illuminate? Mr.
Mansel seems to think that what is capable of existing out of
relation, cannot possibly be conceived or known in relation. But
this is not so.... Freed from this confusion of ideas, Mr. Mansel's
argument resolves itself into this,--The same Being cannot be
thought by us both as Cause and as Absolute, because a Cause _as
such_ is not Absolute, and Absolute, as such, is not a Cause; which
is exactly as if he had said that Newton cannot be thought by us
both as an Englishman and as a mathematician, because an
Englishman, as such, is not a mathematician, nor a mathematician,
as such, an Englishman."--(P. 92.)
The "confusion of ideas" is entirely of Mr. Mill's own making, and is
owing to his having mutilated the argument before criticising it. The
argument in its original form consists of two parts; the first intended
to show that the Absolute is not conceived _as such_ in being conceived
as a Cause; the second to show that the Absolute cannot be conceived
under different aspects at different times--first as Absolute, and then
as Cause. It was the impossibility of this latter alternative which drove
Cousin to the hypothesis of a necessary causation from all eternity. Mr.
Mill entirely omits the latter part of the argument, and treats the
former part as if it were the whole. The part criticised by Mr. Mill is
intended to prove exactly what it does prove, and no more; namely, that a
cause _as such_ is not the absolute, and that to know a cause _as such_
is not to know the absolute. We presume Mr. Mill himself will admit that
to know Newton as a mathematician is not to know him as an Englishman.
Whether he can be known separately as both, and whether the Absolute in
this respect is a parallel case, depends on another consideration, which
Mr. Mill has not noticed. The continuation of Mr. Mill's criticism is
equally confused. He says:--
"The whole of Mr. Mansel's argument for the inconceivability of the
Infinite and of the Absolute is one long _ignoratio elenchi_. It
has been pointed out in a former chapter that the words Absolute
and Infinite have no real meaning, unless we understand by them
that which is absolute or infinite in some given attribute; as
space is called infinite, meaning that it is infinite in extension;
and as God is termed infinite, in the sense of possessing infinite
power, and absolute in the sense of absolute goodness or knowledge.
It has also been shown that Sir W. Hamilton's arguments for the
unknowableness of the Unconditioned do not prove that we cannot
know an object which is absolute or infinite in some specific
attribute, but only that we cannot know an abstraction called 'The
Absolute' or 'The Infinite,' which is supposed to have all
attributes at once."--(P. 93.)
The fallacy of this criticism, as regards Sir W. Hamilton, has been
already pointed out: as regards Mr. Mansel, it is still more glaring,
inasmuch as that writer expressly states that he uses the term _absolute_
in a different sense from that which Mr. Mill attributes to Sir W.
Hamilton. When Mr. Mill charges Mr. Mansel with "undertaking to prove the
impossibility" of conceiving "a Being _absolutely_ just or _absolutely_
wise"[BF] (_i.e._, as he supposes, _perfectly_ just or wise), he
actually forgets that he has just been criticising Mr. Hansel's
definition of the Absolute, as something having a possible existence "out
of all relation." Will Mr. Mill have the kindness to tell us what he
means by goodness and knowledge "out of all relation;" _i.e._, a goodness
and knowledge related to no object on which they can be exercised; a
goodness which is good to nothing, a knowledge which knows nothing? Mr.
Mill had better be cautious in talking about _ignoratio elenchi_.
[BF] _Examination_, p. 95.
From the Absolute, Mr. Mill proceeds to the Infinite; and here he commits
the same mistake as before, treating a portion of an argument as if it
were the whole, and citing a portion intended to prove one point as if it
were intended to prove another. He cites a passage from Mr. Mansel, in
which it is said that "the Infinite, if it is to be conceived at all,
must be conceived as potentially everything and actually nothing; for if
there is anything in general which it cannot become, it is thereby
limited; and if there is anything in particular which it actually is, it
is thereby excluded from being any other thing. But, again, it must also
be conceived as actually everything and potentially nothing; for an
unrealised potentiality is likewise a limitation. If the Infinite can be
that which it is not, it is by that very possibility marked out as
incomplete, and capable of a higher perfection. If it is actually
everything, it possesses no characteristic feature by which it can be
distinguished from anything else, and discerned as an object of
consciousness." On this passage Mr. Mill remarks, "Can a writer be
serious who bids us conjure up a conception of something which possesses
infinitely all conflicting attributes, and because we cannot do this
without contradiction, would have us believe that there is a
contradiction in the idea of infinite goodness or infinite wisdom?" The
answer to this criticism is very simple. The argument is not employed for
the purpose which Mr. Mill supposes. It is employed to show that the
metaphysical notion of the absolute-infinite, as the sum, potential or
actual, of all possible existence, is inconceivable under the laws of
human consciousness; and thus that the absolutely first existence,
related to nothing and limited by nothing, the _ens realissimum_ of the
older philosophers, the _pure being_ of the Hegelians, cannot be attained
as a starting-point from which to deduce all relative and derived
existence. How far the empirical conception of certain mental attributes,
such as goodness or wisdom, derived in the first instance from our own
personal consciousness, can be positively conceived as extended to
infinity, is considered in a separate argument, which Mr. Mill does not
notice.
Mr. Mill continues, "Instead of 'the Infinite,' substitute 'an infinitely
good Being' [_i.e._, substitute what is not intended], and Mr. Mansel's
argument reads thus:--'If there is anything which an infinitely good
Being cannot become--if he cannot become bad--that is a limitation, and
the goodness cannot be infinite. If there is anything which an infinitely
good Being actually is (namely, good), he is excluded from being any
other thing, as being wise or powerful.'" To the first part of this
objection we reply by simply asking, "Is becoming bad a 'higher
perfection?'" To the second part we reply by Mr. Mill's favourite mode of
reasoning--a parallel case. A writer asserts that a creature which is a
horse is thereby excluded from being a dog; and that, in so far as it has
the nature of a horse, it has not the nature of a dog. "What!" exclaims
Mr. Mill, "is it not the nature of a dog to have four legs? and does the
man mean to say that a horse has not four legs?" We venture respectfully
to ask Mr. Mill whether he supposes that being wise is being "a thing,"
and being good is being another "thing?"
But, seriously, it is much to be wished that when a writer like Mr. Mill
undertakes to discuss philosophical questions, he should acquire some
slight acquaintance with the history of the questions discussed. Had this
been done by our critic in the present case, it might possibly have
occurred to him to doubt whether a doctrine supported by philosophers of
such different schools of thought as Spinoza, Malebranche, Wolf, Kant,
Schelling, could be quite such a piece of transparent nonsense as he
supposes it to be. All these writers are cited in Mr. Mansel's note, as
maintaining the theory that the Absolute is the _ens realissimum_, or sum
of all existence; and their names might have saved Mr. Mill from the
absurdity of supposing that by this expression was meant something
"absolutely good and absolutely bad; absolutely wise and absolutely
stupid; and so forth." The real meaning of the expression has been
already sufficiently explained in our earlier remarks. The problem of the
Philosophy of the Unconditioned, as sketched by Plato and generally
adopted by subsequent philosophers, is, as we have seen, to ascend up to
the first principle of all things, and thence to deduce, as from their
cause, all dependent and derived existences. The Unconditioned, as the
one first principle, must necessarily contain in itself, potentially or
actually, all that is derived from it, and thus must comprehend, in
embryo or in development, the sum of all existence. To reconcile this
conclusion with the phenomenal existence of evil and imperfection, is the
difficulty with which philosophy has had to struggle ever since
philosophy began. The Manichean, by referring evil to an independent
cause, denies the existence of an absolute first principle at all; the
Leibnitzian, with his hypothesis of the best possible world, virtually
sets bounds to the Divine omnipotence: the Pantheist identifies God with
all actual existence, and either denies the real existence of evil at
all, or merges the distinction between evil and good in some higher
indifference. All these conclusions may be alike untenable, but all alike
testify to the existence of the problem, and to the vast though
unsuccessful efforts which man's reason has made to solve it.
The reader may now, perhaps, understand the reason of an assertion which
Mr. Mill regards as supremely absurd,--namely, that we must believe in
the existence of an absolute and infinite Being, though unable to
conceive the nature of such a Being. To believe in such a Being, is
simply to believe that God made the world: to declare the nature of such
a Being inconceivable, is simply to say that we do not know how the world
was made. If we believe that God made the world, we must believe that
there was a time when the world was not, and when God alone existed, out
of relation to any other being. But the mode of that sole existence we
are unable to conceive, nor in what manner the first act took place by
which the absolute and self-existent gave existence to the relative and
dependent. "The contradictions," says Mr. Mill, "which Mr. Mansel asserts
to be involved in the notions, do not follow from an imperfect mode of
apprehending the Infinite and the Absolute, but lie in the definitions of
them, in the meaning of the words themselves." They do no such thing: the
meaning of the words is perfectly intelligible, and is exactly what is
expressed by their definitions: the contradictions arise from the attempt
to combine the attributes expressed by the words in one representation
with others, so as to form a positive object of consciousness. Where is
the incongruity of saying, "I believe that a being exists possessing
certain attributes, though I am unable in my present state of knowledge
to conceive the manner of that existence?" Mr. Mill, at all events, is
the last man in the world who has any right to complain of such a
distinction--Mr. Mill, who considers it not incredible that in some part
of the universe two straight lines may enclose a space, or two and two
make five; though he is compelled to allow that under our present laws of
thought, or, if he pleases, of association, we are unable to conceive how
these things can be.
It is wearisome work to wade through this mass of misconceptions; yet we
must entreat the reader's patience a little longer, while we say a few
words in conclusion on perhaps the greatest misconception of all--though
that is bold language to use with regard to Mr. Mill's metaphysics,--at
any rate, the one which he expresses in the most vehement language. Mr.
Mansel, as we have said, asserts, as many others have asserted before
him, that the relation between the communicable attributes of God and the
corresponding attributes of man is one not of identity, but of analogy;
that is to say, that the Divine attributes have the same relation to the
Divine nature that the human attributes have to human nature. Thus, for
example, there is a Divine justice and there is a human justice; but God
is just as the Creator and Governor of the world, having unlimited
authority over all His creatures and unlimited jurisdiction over all
their acts; and man is just in certain special relations, as having
authority over some persons and some acts only, so far as is required for
the needs of human society. So, again, there is a Divine mercy and there
is a human mercy; but God is merciful in such a manner as is fitting
compatibly with the righteous government of the universe; and man is
merciful in a certain limited range, the exercise of the attribute being
guided by considerations affecting the welfare of society or of
individuals. Or to take a more general case: Man has in himself a rule of
right and wrong, implying subjection to the authority of a superior (for
conscience has authority only as reflecting the law of God); while God
has in Himself a rule of right and wrong, implying no higher authority,
and determined absolutely by His own nature. The case is the same when we
look at moral attributes, not externally, in their active manifestations,
but internally, in their psychological constitution. If we do not
attribute to God the same complex mental constitution of reason, passion,
and will, the same relation to motives and inducements, the same
deliberation and choice of alternatives, the same temporal succession of
facts in consciousness, which we ascribe to man,--it will follow that
those psychological relations between reason, will, and desire, which are
implied in the conception of human action, cannot represent the Divine
excellences in themselves, but can only illustrate them by analogies from
finite things. And if man is liable to error in judging of the conduct of
his fellow-men, in proportion as he is unable to place himself in their
position, or to realise to himself their modes of thought and principles
of action--if the child, for instance, is liable to error in judging the
actions of the man,--or the savage of the civilised man,--surely there is
far more room for error in men's judgment of the ways of God, in
proportion as the difference between God and man is greater than the
difference between a man and a child.
This doctrine elicits from Mr. Mill the following extraordinary outburst
of rhetoric:--
"If, instead of the glad tidings that there exists a Being in whom
all the excellences which the highest human mind can conceive,
exist in a degree inconceivable to us, I am informed that the world
is ruled by a being whose attributes are infinite, but what they
are we cannot learn, nor what are the principles of his government,
except that 'the highest human morality which we are capable of
conceiving' does not sanction them; convince me of it, and I will
bear my fate as I may. But when I am told that I must believe this,
and at the same time call this being by the names which express and
affirm the highest human morality, I say in plain terms that I will
not. Whatever power such a being may have over me, there is one
thing which he shall not do: he shall not compel me to worship him.
I will call no being good, who is not what I mean when I apply that
epithet to my fellow-creatures; and if such a being can sentence me
to hell for not so calling him, to hell I will go."--(P. 103.)
We will not pause to comment on the temper and taste of this declamation;
we will simply ask whether Mr. Mill really supposes the word _good_ to
lose all community of meaning, when it is applied, as it constantly is,
to different persons among our "fellow-creatures," with express reference
to their different duties and different qualifications for performing
them? The duties of a father are not the same as those of a son; is the
word therefore wholly equivocal when we speak of one person as a _good
father_, and another as a _good son_? Nay, when we speak generally of a
man as _good_, has not the epithet a tacit reference to human nature and
human duties? and yet is there no community of meaning when the same
epithet is applied to other Creatures? [Greek: Hê aretê pros to ergon
to oikeion]--the goodness of any being whatever has relation to the
nature and office of that being. We may therefore test Mr. Mill's
declamation by a parallel case. A wise and experienced father addresses a
young and inexperienced son: "My son," he says, "there may be some of my
actions which do not seem to you to be wise or good, or such as you would
do in my place. Remember, however, that your duties are different from
mine; that your knowledge of my duties is very imperfect; and that there
may be things which you cannot now see to be wise and good, but which you
may hereafter discover to be so." "Father," says the son, "your
principles of action are not the same as mine; the highest morality which
I can conceive at present does not sanction them; and as for believing
that you are good in anything of which I do not plainly see the
goodness,"--We will not repeat Mr. Mill's alternative; we will only ask
whether it is not just possible that there may be as much difference
between man and God as there is between a child and his father?
This declamation is followed by a sneer, which is worth quoting, not on
its own account, but as an evidence of the generosity with which Mr. Mill
deals with the supposed motives of his antagonists, and of the accuracy
of his acquaintance with the subject discussed. He says:--
"It is worthy of remark, that the doubt whether words applied to
God have their human signification, is only felt when the words
relate to his moral attributes; it is never heard of with regard to
his power. We are never told that God's omnipotence must not be
supposed to mean an infinite degree of the power we know in man and
nature, and that perhaps it does not mean that he is able to kill
us, or consign us to eternal flames. The Divine Power is always
interpreted in a completely human signification; but the Divine
Goodness and Justice must be understood to be such only in an
unintelligible sense. Is it unfair to surmise that this is because
those who speak in the name of God, have need of the human
conception of his power, since an idea which can overawe and
enforce obedience must address itself to real feelings; but are
content that his goodness should be conceived only as something
inconceivable, because they are so often required to teach
doctrines respecting him which conflict irreconcilably with all
goodness that we can conceive?"--(P. 104.)
On the latter part of this paragraph we will not attempt to comment. But
as regards the former part, we meet Mr. Mill's confident assertion with a
direct denial, and take the opportunity of informing him that the
conception of infinite Power has suggested the same difficulties; and has
been discussed by philosophers and theologians in the same manner, as
those of infinite Wisdom and infinite Goodness. Has Mr. Mill never heard
of such questions as, Whether Omnipotence can reverse the past?--Whether
God can do that which He does not will to do?--Whether God's perfect
foreknowledge is compatible with his own perfect liberty?--Whether God
could have made a better world than the existing one? Nay, has not our
critic, in this very chapter, been arguing against Mr. Mansel on the
question, whether the Absolute can be conceived as a Cause acting in
time: and what is this but a form of the question, whether power, when
predicated of God is exactly the same thing as power when predicated of
man? Or why has it been said that creation _ex nihilo_--an absolutely
first act of causation, is inconceivable by us, but from the
impossibility of finding in human power an exact type of Divine power? To
attribute discreditable motives to an opponent, even to account for
unquestionable facts, is usually considered as an abuse of criticism.
What shall we say when the facts are fictitious as well as the motives?
With regard to Mr. Mansel, the only person who is included by name in
this accusation, it is "worthy of remark," that the earliest mention of
the obnoxious theory in his writings occurs in connection with a
difficulty relating solely to the conception of infinite power, and not
at all to the moral attributes of God.[BG]
[BG] See _Prolegomena Logica_, p. 77 (2nd ed., p. 85.)
Mr. Mill concludes this chapter with another instance of that _ignoratio
elenchi_ which has been so abundantly manifested throughout his previous
criticisms. His opponent, he allows, "would and does admit that the
qualities as conceived by us bear _some likeness_ to the justice and
goodness which belong to God, since man was made in God's image." But he
considers that this "semi-concession" "destroys the whole fabric" of Mr.
Mansel's argument. "The Divine goodness," he says, "which is said to be a
different thing from human goodness, but of which the human conception of
goodness is some imperfect reflexion or resemblance, does it agree with
what men call goodness in the _essence_ of the quality--in what
_constitutes_ it goodness? If it does, the 'Rationalists' are right; it
is not illicit to reason from the one to the other. If not, the divine
attribute, whatever else it may be, is not goodness, and ought not to be
called by the name." Now the question really at issue is not whether the
"Rationalist" argument is licit or illicit, but whether, in its lawful
use, it is to be regarded as infallible or fallible. We have already
quoted a portion of Mr. Mansel's language on this point; we will now
quote two more passages, which, without any comment, will sufficiently
show how utterly Mr. Mill has mistaken the purport of the argument which
he has undertaken to examine.
"We do not certainly know the exact nature and operation of the
moral attributes of God: we can but infer and conjecture from what
we know of the moral attributes of man: and the analogy between the
Finite and the Infinite can never be so perfect as to preclude all
possibility of error in the process. But the possibility becomes
almost a certainty, when any one human faculty is elevated by
itself into an authoritative criterion of religious truth, without
regard to those collateral evidences by which its decisions may be
modified and corrected."[BH]... "Beyond question, every doubt
which our reason may suggest in matters of religion is entitled to
its due place in the examination of the evidences of religion; if
we will treat it as a part only, and not the whole; if we will not
insist on a positive solution of that which, it may be, is given us
for another purpose than to be solved. It is reasonable to believe
that, in matters of belief as well as of practice, God has not
thought fit to annihilate the free will of man, but has permitted
speculative difficulties to exist as the trial and the discipline
of sharp and subtle intellects, as He has permitted moral
temptations to form the trial and the discipline of strong and
eager passions.... We do not doubt that the conditions of our moral
trial tend towards good, and not towards evil; that human nature,
even in its fallen state, bears traces of the image of its Maker,
and is fitted to be an instrument in His moral government. And we
believe this, notwithstanding the existence of passions and
appetites which, isolated and uncontrolled, appear to lead in an
opposite direction. Is it then more reasonable to deny that a
system of revealed religion, whose unquestionable tendency as a
whole is to promote the glory of God and the welfare of mankind,
can have proceeded from the same Author, merely because we may be
unable to detect the same character in some of its minuter
features, viewed apart from the system to which they
belong?"[BI]
[BH] _Bampton Lectures_, p. 157, Fourth Edition.
[BI] _Bampton Lectures_, p. 166, Fourth Edition.
Surely this is very different from denouncing all reasoning from human
goodness to Divine as "illicit." To take a parallel case. The manufacture
of gunpowder is a dangerous process, and, if carried on without due
precautions, is very likely to lead to disastrous consequences. Surely it
is one thing to point out what precautions are necessary, and what evils
are to be apprehended from the neglect of them, and another to forbid the
manufacture altogether. Mr. Mill does not seem to see the difference.
We have now considered in detail all that part of Mr. Mill's book which
is devoted to the examination of Sir W. Hamilton's chief and most
characteristic doctrines--those which constitute the Philosophy of the
Conditioned. The remainder of the work, which deals chiefly with
subordinate questions of psychology and logic, contains much from which
we widely dissent, but which we cannot at present submit to a special
examination. Nor is it necessary, so far as Sir W. Hamilton's reputation
is concerned, that we should do so. If the Philosophy of the Conditioned
is really nothing better than the mass of crudities and blunders which
Mr. Mill supposes it to be, the warmest admirers of Hamilton will do
little in his behalf, even should they succeed in vindicating some of the
minor details of his teaching. If, on the other hand, it can be shown, as
we have attempted to show, that Mr. Mill is utterly incapable of dealing
with Hamilton's philosophy in its higher branches, his readers may be
left to judge for themselves whether he is implicitly to be trusted as
regards the lower. In point of fact, they will do Mr. Mill no injustice,
if they regard the above specimens as samples of his entire criticism. We
gladly except, as of a far higher order, those chapters in which he is
content with stating his own views; but in the perpetual baiting of Sir
W. Hamilton, which occupies the greater part of the volume, we recognise,
in general, the same captiousness and the same incompetence which we have
so often had occasion to point out in the course of our previous
remarks.
It is, we confess, an unpleasant and an invidious task, to pick to
pieces, bit by bit, the work of an author of high reputation. But Mr.
Mill has chosen to put the question on this issue, and he has left those
who dissent from him no alternative but to follow his example. He has
tasked all the resources of minute criticism to destroy piece-meal the
reputation of one who has hitherto borne an honoured name in philosophy:
he has no right to complain if the same measure is meted to himself:--
"Neque enim lex æquior ulla
Quam necis artifices arte perire sua."
But it is not so much the justice as the necessity of the case which we
would plead as our excuse. Mr. Mill's method of criticism has reduced the
question to a very narrow compass. Either Sir W. Hamilton, instead of
being a great philosopher, is the veriest blunderer that ever put pen to
paper, or the blunders are Mr. Mill's own. To those who accept the first
of these alternatives it must always remain a marvel how Sir W. Hamilton
could ever have acquired that reputation which compels even his critic to
admit that "he alone, of our metaphysicians of this and the preceding
generation, has acquired, merely as such, an European celebrity;" how he
could have been designated by his illustrious opponent, Cousin, as the
"greatest critic of our age," or described by the learned Brandis as
"almost unparalleled in the profound knowledge of ancient and modern
philosophy." The marvel may perhaps disappear, should it be the case, as
we believe it to be, that the second alternative is the true one.
But even in this case, it should be borne in mind that the blow will by
no means fall on Mr. Mill with the same weight with which he designed it
to fall on the object of his criticism. Sir W. Hamilton had devoted his
whole life to the study of metaphysics; he was probably more deeply read
in that study than any of his contemporaries; and if all his reading
could produce nothing better than the confusion and self-contradiction
which Mr. Mill imputes to him, the result would be pitiable indeed. Mr.
Mill, on the other hand, we strongly suspect, despises metaphysics too
much to be at the pains of studying them at all, and seems to think that
a critic is duly equipped for his task with that amount of knowledge
which, like Dogberry's reading and writing, "comes by nature." His work
has a superficial cleverness which, together with the author's previous
reputation, will insure it a certain kind of popularity; but we venture
to predict that its estimation by its readers will be in the inverse
ratio to their knowledge of the subject. But Mr. Mill's general
reputation rests on grounds quite distinct from his performances in
metaphysics; and though we could hardly name one of his writings from
whose main principles we do not dissent, there is hardly one which is not
better fitted to sustain his character as a thinker than this last, in
which the fatal charms of the goddess Necessity seem to have betrayed her
champion into an unusual excess of polemical zeal, coupled, it must be
added, with an unusual deficiency of philosophical knowledge.