THE UNKNOWN GOD (_continued_).
IS GOD COGNIZABLE BY REASON?
"The abnegation of reason is not the evidence of faith, but the
confession of despair."--LIGHTFOOT.
At the outset of this inquiry we attempted a hasty grouping of the
various parties and schools which are arrayed against the doctrine that
God is cognizable by human reason, and in general terms we sought to
indicate the ground they occupy.
Viewed from a philosophical stand-point, we found one party marshalled
under the standard of Idealism; another of Materialism and, again,
another of Natural Realism. Regarded in their theological aspects, some
are positive Atheists; others, strange to say, are earnest Theists;
whilst others occupy a position of mere Indifferentism. Yet,
notwithstanding the remarkable diversity, and even antagonism of their
philosophical and theological opinions, they are all agreed in denying
to reason any valid cognition of God.
The survey of Natural Theism we have completed in the previous chapter
will enable us still further to indicate the exact points against which
their attacks are directed, and also to estimate the character and force
of the weapons employed. With or without design, they are, each in their
way, assailing one or other of the principles upon which we rest our
demonstration of the being of God. As we proceed, we shall find that
Mill and the Constructive Idealists are really engaged in undermining
"the _principle of substance_;" their doctrine is a virtual denial of
all objective realities answering to our subjective ideas of matter,
mind, and God. The assaults of Comte and the Materialists of his school
are mainly directed against "_the principle of causality_" and "_the
principle of intentionality_;" they would deny to man all knowledge of
causes, efficient and final. The attacks of Hamilton and his school are
directed against "the _principle of the unconditioned_," his philosophy
of the conditioned is a plausible attempt to deprive man of all power to
think the Infinite and Perfect, to conceive the Unconditioned and
Ultimate Cause; whilst the Dogmatic Theologians are borrowing, and
recklessly brandishing, the weapons of all these antagonists, and, in
addition to all this, are endeavoring to show the insufficiency of "_the
principle of unity_" and the weakness and invalidity of "the _moral
principles_," which are regarded by us as relating man to a Moral
Personality, and as indicating to him the existence of a righteous God,
the ruler of the world. It is necessary, therefore, that we should
concentrate our attention yet more specifically on these separate lines
of attack, and attempt a minuter examination of the positions assumed by
each, and of the arguments by which they are seeking, directly or
indirectly, to invalidate the fundamental principles of Natural Theism.
(i.) _We commence with the Idealistic School_, of which John Stuart Mill
must be regarded as the ablest living representative.
The doctrine of this school is that all our knowledge is necessarily
confined to _mental_ phenomena; that is, "to _feelings_ or states of
consciousness," and "the succession and co-existence, the likeness and
unlikeness between these feelings or states of consciousness."[226] All
our general notions, all our abstract ideas, are generated out of these
feelings[227] by "_inseparable association_," which registers their
inter-relations of recurrence, co-existence, and resemblance. The
results of this inseparable association constitute at once the sum total
and the absolute limit of all possible cognition.
[Footnote 226: J. S. Mill, "Logic," vol. i. p. 83 (English edition).]
[Footnote 227: In the language of Mill, every thing of which we are
conscious is called "feeling." "Feeling, in the proper sense of the
term, is a genus of which Sensation, Emotion, and Thought are the
subordinate species."--"Logic," bk. i. ch. iii. § 3.]
It is admitted by Mill that one _apparent_ element in this total result
is the general conviction that our own existence is really distinct from
the external world, and that the personal _ego_ has an essential
identity distinct from the fleeting phenomena of sensation. But this
persuasion is treated by him as a mere illusion--a leap beyond the
original datum for which we have no authority. Of a real substance or
substratum called Mind, of a real substance or substratum called Matter,
underlying the series of feelings--"the thread of consciousness"--we do
know and can know nothing; and in affirming the existence of such
substrata we are making a supposition we can not possibly verify. The
ultimate datum of speculative philosophy is not "_I think_," but simply
"_Thoughts or feelings are_." The belief in a permanent subject or
substance, called matter, as the ground and plexus of physical
phenomena, and of a permanent subject or substance, called mind, as the
ground and plexus of mental phenomena, is not a primitive and original
intuition of reason. It is simply through the action of the principle of
association among the ultimate phenomena, called feelings, that this
(erroneous) separation of the phenomena into two orders or
aggregates--one called mind or self; the other matter, or not
self--takes place; and without this curdling or associating process no
such notion or belief could have been generated. "The principle of
substance," as an ultimate law of thought, is, therefore, to be regarded
as a transcendental dream.
But now that the notion of _mind_ or _self_, and of _matter_ or not
_self_, do exist as common convictions of our race, what is philosophy
to make of them? After a great many qualifications and explanations, Mr.
Mill has, in his "Logic," summed up his doctrine of Constructive
Idealism in the following words: "As body is the mysterious _something_
which excites the mind to feel, so mind is the mysterious _something_
which feels and thinks."[228] But what is this "mysterious something?"
Is it a reality, an entity, a subject; or is it a shadow, an illusion, a
dream? In his "Examination of Sir Wm. Hamilton's Philosophy," where it
may be presumed, we have his maturest opinions, Mr. Mill, in still more
abstract and idealistic phraseology, attempts an answer. Here he defines
matter as "_a permanent possibility of sensation_,"[229] and mind as "_a
permanent possibility of feeling_."[230] And "the belief in these
permanent possibilities," he assures us, "includes all that is essential
or characteristic in the belief in substance."[231] "If I am asked,"
says he, "whether I believe in matter, I ask whether the questioner
accepts this definition of it. If he does, I believe in matter: and so
do all Berkeleians. In any other sense than this, I do not. But I affirm
with confidence that this conception of matter includes the whole
meaning attached to it by the common world, apart from philosophical,
and sometimes from theological theories. The reliance of mankind on the
real existence of visible and tangible objects, means reliance on the
reality and permanence of possibilities of visual and tactual
sensations, when no sensations are actually experienced."[232]
"Sensations," however, let it be borne in mind, are but a subordinate
species of the genus feeling.[233] They are "states of
consciousness"--phenomena of mind, not of matter; and we are still
within the impassable boundary of ideal phenomena; we have yet no
cognition of an external world. The sole cosmical conception, for us, is
still a succession of sensations, or states of consciousness. This is
the one phenomenon which we can not transcend in knowledge, do what we
will; all else is hypothesis and illusion. The _non-ego_, after all,
then, may be but a mode in which the mind represents to itself the
possible modifications of the _ego_.
[Footnote 228: "Logic," bk. i, ch. iii. § 8.]
[Footnote 229: "Examination of Sir Wm. Hamilton's Philosophy," vol. i.
p. 243.]
[Footnote 230: Ibid., vol. i. p. 253.]
[Footnote 231: Ibid., vol. i. p. 246.]
[Footnote 232: Ibid., vol. i. pp. 243, 244.]
[Footnote 233: "Logic," bk. i. ch. iii. § 3.]
And now that matter, as a real existence, has disappeared under Mr.
Mill's analysis, what shall be said of mind or self? Is there any
permanent subject or real entity underlying the phenomena of feeling? In
feeling, is there a personal self that feels, thinks, and wills? It
would seem not. Mind, as well as matter, resolves itself into a "series
of feelings," varying and fugitive from moment to moment, in a sea of
possibilities of feeling. "My mind," says Mill, "is but a series of
feelings, or, as it has been called, a thread of consciousness, however
supplemented by believed possibilities of consciousness, which are not,
though they might be, realized."[234]
[Footnote 234: "Examination of Sir Wm. Hamilton's Philosophy," vol. i.
p. 254.]
The ultimate fact of the phenomenal world, then, in the philosophy of
Mill, is neither matter nor mind, but feelings or states of
consciousness associated together by the relations, amongst themselves,
of recurrence, co-existence, and resemblance. The existence of self,
except as "a series of feelings;" the existence of any thing other than
self, except as a feigned unknown cause of sensation, is rigorously
denied. Mr. Mill does not content himself with saying that we are
ignorant of the _nature_ of matter and mind, but he asserts we are
ignorant of the _existence_ of matter and mind as real entities.
The bearing of this doctrine of Idealism upon Theism and Theology will
be instantly apparent to the reader. If I am necessarily ignorant of the
existence of the external world, and of the personal _ego_, or real
self, I must be equally ignorant of the existence of God. If one is a
mere supposition, an illusion, so the other must be. Mr. Mill, however,
is one of those courteous and affable writers who are always conscious,
as it were, of the presence of their readers, and extremely careful not
to shock their feelings or prejudices; besides, he has too much
conscious self-respect to avow himself an atheist. As a speculative
philosopher, he would rather regard Theism and Theology as "open
questions," and he satisfies himself with saying, if you believe in the
existence of God, or in Christianity, I do not interfere with you. "As a
theory," he tells us that his doctrine leaves the evidence of the
existence of God exactly as it was before. Supposing me to believe that
the Divine mind is simply the series of the Divine thoughts and feelings
prolonged through eternity, that would be, at any rate, believing God's
existence to be _as real as my own_[235]. And as for evidence, the
argument of Paley's 'Natural Theology,' or, for that matter, of his
'Evidences of Christianity,' would stand exactly as it does.
The design argument is drawn from the analogies of human experience.
From the relation which human works bear to human thoughts and feelings,
it infers a corresponding relation between works more or less similar,
but superhuman, and superhuman thoughts and feelings. _If_ it prove
these, nobody but a metaphysician needs care whether or not it proves a
mysterious _substratum_ for them.[236] The argument from design, it
seems to us, however, would have no validity if there be no external
world offering marks of design. If the external world is only a mode of
feeling, a series of mental states, then our notion of the Divine
Existence may be only "an association of feelings"--a mode of Self. And
if we have no positive knowledge of a real self as existing, and God's
existence is no more "real than our own," then the Divine existence
stands on a very dubious and uncertain foundation. It can have no very
secure hold upon the human mind, and certainly has no claim to be
regarded as a fundamental and necessary belief. That it has a very
precarious hold upon the mind of Mr. Mill, is evident from the following
passage in his article on "_Later Speculations of A. Comte_."[237] "We
venture to think that a religion may exist without a belief in a God,
and that a religion without a God may be, even to Christians, an
instructive and profitable object of contemplation."
And now let us close Mr. Mill's book, and, introverting our mental gaze,
interrogate _consciousness_, the verdict of which, even Mr. Mill assures
us, is admitted on all hands to be a decision without appeal.[238]
[Footnote 235: "Examination of Sir Wm. Hamilton's Philosophy," vol. i.
p. 254.]
[Footnote 236: "Examination of Sir Wm. Hamilton's Philosophy," vol. i.
p. 259.]
[Footnote 237: Westminster Review, July, 1835 (American edition), p. 3.]
[Footnote 238: "Examination of Sir Wm. Hamilton's Philosophy," vol. i.
p. 161.]
1. We have an ineradicable, and, as it would seem, an intuitive faith in
the real existence of an external world distinct from our sensations,
and also of a personal self, which we call "I," "myself," as distinct
from "my sensations," and "my feelings." We find, also, that this is
confessedly the common belief of mankind. There have been a few
philosophers who have affected to treat this belief as a "mere
prejudice," an "illusion;" but they have never been able, practically,
so to regard and treat it. Their language, just as plainly as the
language of the common people, betrays their instinctive faith in an
outer world, and proves their utter inability to emancipate themselves
from this "prejudice," if such it may please them to call it. In view of
this acknowledged fact, we ask--Does the term "_permanent possibility of
sensations_" exhaust all that is contained in this conception of an
external world? This evening I _remember_ that at noonday I beheld the
sun, and experienced a sensation of warmth whilst exposing myself to his
rays; and I _expect_ that to-morrow, under the same conditions, I shall
experience the same sensations. I now _remember_ that last evening I
extinguished my light and attempted to leave my study, but, coming in
contact with the closed door, experienced a sense of resistance to my
muscular effort, by a solid and extended body exterior to myself; and I
_expect_ that this evening, under the same circumstances, I shall
experience the same sensations. Now, does a belief in "a permanent
possibility of sensations" explain all these experiences? does it
account for that immediate knowledge of an _external_ object which I had
on looking at the sun, or that presentative knowledge of _resistance_
and _extension_, and of an extended, resisting _substance_, I had when
in contact with the door of my study? Mr. Mill very confidently affirms
that this belief includes all; and this phrase expresses all the meaning
attached to extended "matter" and resisting "substance" by the common
world.[239] We as confidently affirm that it does no such thing; and as
"the common world" must be supposed to understand the language of
consciousness as well as the philosopher, we are perfectly willing to
leave the decision of that question to the common consciousness of our
race. If all men do not believe in a permanent _reality_--a substance
which is external to themselves, a substance which offers resistance to
their muscular effort, and which produces in them the sensations of
solidity, extension, resistance, etc.--they believe nothing and know
nothing at all about the matter.
[Footnote 239: "Examination of Sir Wm. Hamilton's Philosophy," vol. i.
p. 243.]
Still less does the phrase "_a permanent possibility of feelings"_
exhaust all our conception of a personal self. Recurring to the
experiences of yesterday, I _remember_ the feelings I experienced on
beholding the sun, and also on pressing against the closed door, and I
confidently _expect_ the recurrence, under the same circumstances, of
the same feelings. Does the belief in "a permanent possibility of
feelings" explain the act of memory by which I recall the past event,
and the act of prevision by which I anticipate the recurrence of the
like experience in the future? Who or what is the "I" that remembers and
the "I" that anticipates? The "ego," the personal mind, is, according to
Mill, a mere "series of feelings," or, more correctly, a flash of
"_present_ feelings" on "a background of possibilities of present
feelings."[240] If, then, there be no permanent substance or reality
which is the subject of the present feeling, which receives and retains
the impress of the past feeling, and which anticipates the recurrence of
like feelings in the future, how can the _past_ be recalled, how
distinguished from the present? and how, without a knowledge of the past
as distinguished from the present, can the _future_ be forecast? Mr.
Mill feels the pressure of this difficulty, and frankly acknowledges it.
He admits that, on the hypothesis that mind is simply "a series of
feelings," the phenomena of memory and expectation are "inexplicable"
and "incomprehensible."[241] He is, therefore, under the necessity of
completing his definition of mind by adding that it is a series of
feelings which "_is aware of itself as a series_;" and, still further,
of supplementing this definition by the conjecture that "_something
which has ceased to exist, or is not yet in existence, can still, in a
manner, be present_."[242] Now he who can understand how a series of
feelings can flow on in time, and from moment to moment drop out of the
present into non-existence, and yet be _present_ and _conscious of
itself as a series_, may be accorded the honor of understanding Mr.
Mill's definition of mind or self, and may be permitted to rank himself
as a distinguished disciple of the Idealist school; for ourselves, we
acknowledge we are destitute of the capacity to do the one, and of all
ambition to be the other. And he who can conceive how the _past_ feeling
of yesterday and the _possible_ feeling of to-morrow can be in any
manner _present_ to-day; or, in other words, how any thing which has
ceased to exist, or which never had an existence, can _now_ exist, may
be permitted to believe that a thing can be and not be at the same
moment, that a part is greater than the whole, and that two and two make
five; but we are not ashamed to confess our inability to believe a
contradiction. To our understanding, "possibilities of feeling" are not
actualities. They may or may not be realized, and until realized in
consciousness, they have no real being. If there be no other background
of mental phenomena save mere "possibilities of feeling," then present
feelings are the only existences, the only reality, and a loss of
immediate consciousness, as in narcosis and coma, is the loss of all
personality, all self-hood, and of all real being.
[Footnote 240: "Exam. of Hamilton," vol. i. p. 260.]
[Footnote 241: Ibid, p. 262.]
[Footnote 242: Ibid.]
2. What, then, is the verdict of consciousness as to the existence of a
permanent substance, an abiding existence which is the subject of all
the varying phenomena? Of what are we really conscious when we say "I
think," "I feel," "I will?" Are we simply conscious of thought, feeling,
and volition, or of a self, a person, which thinks, feels, and wills?
The man who honestly and unreservedly accepts the testimony of
consciousness in all its integrity must answer at once, _we have an
immediate consciousness, not merely of the phenomena of mind, but of a
personal self as passively or actively related to the phenomena_. We are
conscious not merely of the act of volition, but of a self, a power,
producing the volition. We are conscious not merely of feeling, but of a
being who is the subject of the feeling. We are conscious not simply of
thought, but of a real entity that thinks. "It is clearly a flat
contradiction to maintain that I am not immediately conscious of myself,
but only of my sensations or volitions. Who, then, is that _I_ that is
conscious, and how can I be conscious of such states as _mine?_"[243]
[Footnote 243: Mansel, "Prolegomena Logica," p. 122, and note E, p.
281.]
The testimony of consciousness, then, is indubitable that we have a
direct, immediate cognition of _self_--I know myself as a distinctly
existing being. This permanent self, to which I refer the earlier and
later stages of consciousness, the past as well as the present feeling,
and which I know abides the same under all phenomenal changes,
constitutes my personal identity. It is this abiding self which unites
the past and the present, and, from the present stretches onward to the
future. We know self immediately, as existing, as in active operation,
and as having permanence--or, in other words, as a "_substance_." This
one immediately presented substance, myself, may be regarded as
furnishing a positive basis for that other notion of substance, which is
representatively thought, as the subject of all sensible qualities.
3. We may now inquire what is the testimony of consciousness as to the
existence of the extra-mental world? Are we conscious of perceiving
external objects immediately and in themselves, or only mediately
through some vicarious image or representative idea to which we
fictitiously ascribe an objective reality?
The answer of common sense is that we are immediately conscious, in
perception, of an _ego_ and a _non-ego_ known together, and known in
contrast to each other; we are conscious of a perceiving subject, and of
an external reality, as the object perceived.[244] To state this
doctrine of natural realism still more explicitly we add, that we are
conscious of the immediate perception of certain essential attributes of
matter objectively existing. Of these primary qualities, which are
immediately perceived as real and objectively existing, we mention
_extension_ in space and _resistance_ to muscular effort, with which is
indissolubly associated the idea of _externality_. It is true that
extension and resistance are only qualities, but it is equally true that
they are qualities of something, and of something which is external to
ourselves. Let any one attempt to conceive of extension without
something which is extended, or of resistance apart from something which
offers resistance, and he will be convinced that we can never know
qualities without knowing substance, just as we can not know substance
without knowing qualities. This, indeed, is admitted by Mr. Mill.[245]
And if this be admitted, it must certainly be absurd to speak of
substance as something "unknown." Substance is known just as much as
quality is known, no less and no more.
[Footnote 244: Hamilton, "Lectures," vol. 1. p. 288.]
[Footnote 245: "Logic," bk. i. ch. iii. § 6.]
We remark, in conclusion, that if the testimony of consciousness is not
accepted in all its integrity, we are necessarily involved in the
Nihilism of Hume and Fichte; the phenomena of mind and matter are, on
analysis, resolved into an absolute nothingness--"a play of phantasms in
a void."[246]
(ii.) We turn, secondly, to the _Materialistic School_ as represented by
Aug. Comte.
The doctrine of this school is that all knowledge is limited to
_material_ phenomena--that is, to appearances _perceptible to sense_. We
do not know the essence of any object, nor the real mode of procedure of
any event, but simply its relations to other events, as similar or
dissimilar, co-existent or successive. These relations are constant;
under the same conditions, they are always the same. The constant
resemblances which link phenomena together, and the constant sequences
which unite them, as antecedent and consequent, are termed _laws_. The
laws of phenomena are all we know respecting them. Their essential
nature and their ultimate causes, _efficient_ or _final_, are unknown
and inscrutable to us.[247]
[Footnote 246: Masson, "Recent British Philos.," p. 62.]
[Footnote 247: See art. "Positive Philos. of A. Comte," _Westminster
Review_, April, 1865, p. 162, Am. ed.]
It is not our intention to review the system of philosophy propounded by
Aug. Comte; we are now chiefly concerned with his denial of all
causation.
1. _As to Efficient Causes_.--Had Comte contented himself with the
assertion that causes lie beyond the field of sensible observation, and
that inductive science can not carry us beyond the relations of
co-existence and succession among phenomena, he would have stated an
important truth, but certainly not a new truth. It had already been
announced by distinguished mental philosophers, as, for example, M. de
Biran and Victor Cousin.[248] The senses give us only the succession of
one phenomenon to another. I hold a piece of wax to the fire and it
melts. Here my senses inform me of two successive phenomena--the
proximity of fire and the melting of wax. It is now agreed among all
schools of philosophy that this is all the knowledge the senses can
possibly supply. The observation of a great number of like cases assures
us that this relation is uniform. The highest scientific generalization
does not carry us one step beyond this fact. Induction, therefore, gives
us no access to causes beyond phenomena. Still, this does not justify
Comte in the assertion that causes are to us absolutely _unknown_. The
question would still arise whether we have not some faculty of
knowledge, distinct from sensation, which is adequate to furnish a valid
cognition of cause. It does not by any means follow that, because the
idea of causation is not given as a "physical quæsitum" at the end of a
process of scientific generalization, it should not be a "metaphysical
datum" posited at the very beginning of scientific inquiry, as the
indispensable condition of our being able to cognize phenomena at all,
and as the law under which all thought, and all conception of the system
of nature, is alone possible.
[Footnote 248: "It is now universally admitted that we have no
perception of the causal nexus in the material world."--Hamilton,
"Discussions," p. 522.]
Now we affirm that the human mind has just as direct, immediate, and
positive knowledge of _cause_ as it has of _effect._ The idea of cause,
the intuition _power_, is given in the immediate consciousness of _mind
as determining its own_ operations. Our first, and, in fact, our only
presentation of power or cause, is that of _self as willing_. In every
act of volition I am fully conscious that it is in my power to form a
resolution or to refrain from it, to determine on this course of action
or that; and this constitutes the immediate presentative knowledge of
power.[249] The will is a power, a power in action, a productive power,
and, consequently, a cause. This doctrine is stated with remarkable
clearness and accuracy by Cousin: "If we seek the notion of cause in the
action of one ball upon another, as was previously done by Hume, or in
the action of the hand upon the ball, or the primary muscles upon the
extremities, or even in the action of the will upon the muscles, as was
done by M. Maine de Biran, we shall find it in none of these cases, not
even in the last; for it is possible there should be a paralysis of the
muscles which deprives the will of power over them, makes it
unproductive, incapable of being a cause, and, consequently, of
suggesting the notion of one. But what no paralysis can prevent is the
action of the will upon itself, the production of a resolution; that is
to say, the act of causation entirely mental, the primitive type of all
causality, of which all external movements are only symbols more or less
imperfect. The first cause for us, is, therefore, the _will_, of which
the first effect is volition. This is at once the highest and the purest
source of the notion of cause, which thus becomes identical with that of
personality. And it is the taking possession, so to speak, of the cause,
as revealed in will and personality, which is the condition for us of
the ulterior or simultaneous conception of external, impersonal
causes."[250]
[Footnote 249: "It is our _immediate consciousness of effort_, when we
exert force to put matter in motion, or to oppose and neutralize force,
which gives us this internal conviction of _power_ and _causation_, so
far as it refers to the material world, and compels us to believe that
whenever we see material objects put in motion from a state of rest, or
deflected from their rectilinear paths and changed in their velocities
if already in motion, it is in consequence of such an _effort_ somehow
exerted."--Herschel's "Outlines of Astronomy," p. 234; see Mansel's
"Prolegomena," p. 133.]
[Footnote 250: "Philosophical Fragments," Preface to first edition.]
Thus much for the origin of the idea of cause. We have the same direct
intuitive knowledge of cause that we have of effect; but we have not yet
rendered a full and adequate account of the _principle of causality_. We
have simply attained the notion of our personal causality, and we can
not arbitrarily substitute our personal causality for all the causes of
the universe, and erect our own experience as a law of the entire
universe. We have, however, already seen (Chap. V.) that the belief in
exterior causation is _necessary_ and _universal_. When a change takes
place, when a new phenomenon presents itself to our senses, we can not
avoid the conviction that it must have a cause. We can not even express
in language the relations of phenomena in time and space, without
speaking of causes. And there is not a rational being on the face of the
globe--a child, a savage, or a philosopher--who does not instinctively
and spontaneously affirm that every movement, every change, every new
existence, _must_ have a cause. Now what account can philosophy render
of this universal belief? One answer, and only one, is possible. The
_reason_ of man (that power of which Comte takes no account) is in fixed
and changeless relation to the principle of causation, just as _sense_
is in fixed and changeless relation to exterior phenomena, so that we
can not know the external world, can not think or speak of phenomenal
existence, except as _effects_. In the expressive and forcible language
of Jas. Martineau: "By an irresistible law of thought _all phenomena
present themselves to us as the expression of power_, and refer us to a
causal ground whence they issue. This dynamic source we neither see, nor
hear, nor feel; it is given in _thought_, supplied by the spontaneous
activity of mind as the correlative prefix to the phenomena
observed."[251] Unless, then, we are prepared to deny the validity of
all our rational intuitions, we can not avoid accepting "this subjective
postulate as a valid law for objective nature." If the intuitions of our
reason are pronounced deceptive and mendacious, so also must the
intuitions of the senses be pronounced illusory and false. Our whole
intellectual constitution is built up on false and erroneous principles,
and all knowledge of whatever kind must perish by "the contagion of
uncertainty."
[Footnote 251: "Essays," p. 47.]
Comte, however, is determined to treat the idea of causation as an
illusion, whether under its psychological form, as _will_, or under its
scientific form, as _force_. He feels that Theology is inevitable if we
permit the inquiry into causes;[252] and he is more anxious that
theology should perish than that truth should prevail. The human will
must, therefore, be robbed of all semblance of freedom, lest it should
suggest the idea of a Supreme Will governing nature; and human action,
like all other phenomena, must be reduced to uniform and necessary law.
All feelings, ideas, and principles guaranteed to us by consciousness
are to be cast out of the account. Psychology, resting on
self-observation, is pronounced a delusion. The immediate consciousness
of freedom is a dream. Such a procedure, to say the least of it, is
highly unphilosophical; to say the truth about it, it is obviously
dishonest. Every fact of human nature, just as much as every fact of
physical nature, must be accepted in all its integrity, or all must be
alike rejected. The phenomena of mind can no more be disregarded than
the phenomena of matter. Rational intuitions, necessary and universal
beliefs, can no more be ignored than the uniform facts of
sense-perception, without rendering a system of knowledge necessarily
incomplete, and a system of truth utterly impossible. Every one truth is
connected with every other truth in the universe. And yet Comte demands
that a large class of facts, the most immediate and direct of all our
cognitions, shall be rejected because they are not in harmony with the
fundamental assumption of the positive philosophy that all knowledge is
confined to _phenomena perceptible to sense_. Now it were just as easy
to cast the Alps into the Mediterranean as to obliterate from the human
intelligence the primary cognitions of immediate consciousness, or to
relegate the human reason from the necessary laws of thought. Comte
himself can not emancipate his own mind from a belief in the validity of
the testimony of consciousness. How can he know himself as distinct from
nature, as a living person, as the same being he was ten years ago, or
even yesterday, except by an appeal to consciousness? Despite his
earnestly-avowed opinions as to the inutility and fallaciousness of all
psychological inquiries, he is compelled to admit that "the phenomena of
life" are "_known by immediate consciousness_."[253] Now the knowledge
of our personal freedom rests on precisely the same grounds as the
knowledge of our personal existence. The same "immediate consciousness"
which attests that I exist, attests also, with equal distinctness and
directness, that I am self-determined and free.
[Footnote 252: "The _inevitable tendency_ of our intelligence is towards
a philosophy radically theological, so often as we seek to penetrate, on
whatever pretext, into the intimate nature of phenomena" (vol. iv. p.
664).]
[Footnote 253: "Positive Philos," vol. ii. p. 648.]
In common with most atheistical writers, Comte is involved in the fatal
contradiction of at one time assuming, and at another of denying the
freedom of the will, to serve the exigencies of his theory. To prove
that the order of the universe can not be the product of a Supreme
Intelligence, he assumes that the products of mind must be characterized
by freedom and variety--the phenomena of mind must not be subject to
uniform and necessary laws; and inasmuch as the phenomena presented by
external nature are subject to uniform and changeless laws, they can not
be the product of mind. "Look at the whole frame of things," says he;
"how can it be the product of mind--of a supernatural Will? Is it not
subject to regular laws, and do we not actually obtain _prevision_ of
its phenomena? If it were the product of mind, its order would be
variable and free." Here, then, it is admitted that _freedom is an
essential characteristic of mind_. And this admission is no doubt a
thoughtless, unconscious betrayal of the innate belief of all minds in
the freedom of the will. But when Comte comes to deal with this freedom
as an objective question of philosophy, when he directs his attention to
the only will of which we have a direct and immediate knowledge, he
denies freedom and variety, and asserts in the most arbitrary manner
that the movements of the mind, like all the phenomena of nature, must
be subject to uniform, changeless, and necessary laws. And if we have
not yet been able to reduce the movements of mind, like the movements of
the planets, to statistics, and have not already obtained accurate
prevision of its successions or sequences as we have of physical
phenomena, it is simply the consequence of our inattention to, or
ignorance of, all the facts. We answer, there are no facts so directly
and intuitively known as the facts of consciousness; and, therefore, an
argument based upon our supposed ignorance of these facts is not likely
to have much weight against our immediate consciousness of personal
freedom. There is not any thing we know so immediately, so certainly, so
positively, as this fact--_we are free_.
The word "force," representing as it does a subtile menial conception,
and not a phenomenon of sense, must also be banished from the domains of
Positive Science as an intruder, lest its presence should lend any
countenance to the idea of causation. "Forces in mechanics are only
_movements_, produced, or tending to be produced." In order to "cancel
altogether the old metaphysical notion of force," another form of
expression is demanded. It is claimed that all we do know or can
possibly know is the successions of phenomena in time. What, then, is
the term which henceforth, in our dynamics, shall take the place of
"force?" Is it "Time-succession?" Then let any one attempt to express
the various forms and intensities of movement and change presented to
the senses (as _e.g._, the phenomena of heat, electricity, galvanism,
magnetism, muscular and nervous action, etc.) in terms of
Time-succession, and he will at once become conscious of the utter
hopelessness of physics, without the hyperphysical idea of force, to
render itself intelligible.[254] What account can be rendered of
planetary motion if the terms "centrifugal force" and "centripetal
force" are abandoned? "From the two great conditions of every Newtonian
solution, viz., projectile impulse and centripetal tendency, eject the
idea of _force_, and what remains? The entire conception is simply made
up of this, and has not the faintest existence without it. It is useless
to give it notice to quit, and pretend that it is gone when you have
only put a new name upon the door. We must not call it 'attraction,'
lest there should seem to be a _power_ within; we are to speak of it
only as 'gravitation,' because that is only 'weight,' which is nothing
but a 'fact,' as if it were not a fact that holds a power, a true
dynamic affair, which no imagination can chop into incoherent
successions.[255] Nor is the evasion more successful when we try the
phrase, 'tendency of bodies to mutual approach.' The approach itself may
be called a phenomenon; but the 'tendency' is no phenomenon, and can not
be attributed by us to the bodies without regarding them as the
residence of force. And what are we to say of the _projectile impulse_
in the case of the planets? Is that also a phenomenon? Who witnessed and
reported it? Is it not evident that the whole scheme of physical
astronomy is a resolution of observed facts into dynamic equivalents,
and that the hypothesis posits for its calculations not phenomena, but
proper forces? Its logic is this: _If_ an impulse of certain intensity
were given, and _if_ such and such mutual attractions were constantly
present, then the sort of motions which we observe in the bodies of our
system _would follow_. So, however, they also would _if_ willed by an
Omnipotent Intelligence."[256] It is thus clearly evident that human
science is unable to offer any explanation of the existing order of the
universe except in terms expressive of Power or Force; that, in fact,
all explanations are utterly unintelligible without the idea of
causation. The language of universal rational intuition is, "all
phenomena are the expression of power;" the language of science is,
"every law implies a force."
[Footnote 254: See Grote's "Essay on Correlation of Physical Forces,"
pp. 18-20; and Martineau's "Essays," p. 135.]
[Footnote 255: "Gravity is a real _power_ of whose agency we have daily
experience."--Herschel, "Outlines of Astronomy," p. 236.]
[Footnote 256: Martineau's "Essays," p. 56.]
It is furthermore worthy of being noted that, in the modern doctrine of
the Correlation and Conservation of Forces, science is inevitably
approaching the idea that all kinds of force are but forms or
manifestations of some _one_ central force issuing from some _one_
fountain-head of power. Dr. Carpenter, perhaps the greatest living
physiologist, teaches that "the form of force _which may be taken as the
type of all the rest_" is the consciousness of living effort in
volition.[257] All force, then, is of one type, and that type is mind;
in its last analysis external causation may be resolved into Divine
energy. Sir John Herschel does not hesitate to say that "it is
reasonable to regard the force of gravitation as the direct or indirect
result of a consciousness or will exerted somewhere."[258] The humble
Christian may, therefore, feel himself amply justified in still
believing that "power belongs to God;" that it is through the Divine
energy "all things are, and are upheld;" and that "in God we live, and
move, and have our being;" he is the Great First Cause, the
Fountain-head of all power.
[Footnote 257: "Human Physiology," p. 542.]
[Footnote 258: "Outlines of Astronomy," p. 234.]
2. _As to Final Causes_--that is, reasons, purposes, or ends _for_ which
things exist--these, we are told by Comte, are all "disproved" by
Positive Science, which rigidly limits us to "the history of _what is_,"
and forbids all inquiry into reasons _why it is_. The question whether
there be any intelligent purpose in the order and arrangement of the
universe, is not a subject of scientific inquiry at all; and whenever it
has been permitted to obtrude itself, it has thrown a false light over
the facts, and led the inquirer astray.
The discoveries of modern astronomy are specially instanced by Comte as
completely overthrowing the notion of any conscious design or
intelligent purpose in the universe. The order and stability of the
solar system are found to be the _necessary_ consequences of
gravitation, and are adequately explained without any reference to
purposes or ends to be fulfilled in the disposition and arrangement of
the heavenly bodies. "With persons unused to the study of the celestial
bodies, though very likely informed on other parts of natural
philosophy, astronomy has still the reputation of being a science
eminently religious, as if the famous words, 'The heavens declare the
glory of God, had lost none of their truth... No science has given more
terrible shocks to the doctrine of _final causes_ than astronomy.[259]
The simple knowledge of the movement of the earth must have destroyed
the original and real foundation of this doctrine--the idea of the
universe subordinated to the earth, and consequently to man. Besides,
the accurate exploration of the solar system could not fail to dispel
that blind and unlimited admiration which the general order of nature
inspires, by showing in the most sensible manner, and in a great number
of different respects, that the orbs were certainly not disposed in the
most advantageous manner, and that science permits us easily to conceive
a better arrangement, by the development of true celestial mechanism,
since Newton. All the theological philosophy, even the most perfect, has
been henceforth deprived of its principal intellectual function, the
most regular order being thus consigned as necessarily established and
maintained in our world, and even in the whole universe, _by the simple
mutual gravity of its several parts_."[260]
The task of "conceiving a better arrangement" of the celestial orbs, and
improving the system of the universe generally, we shall leave to those
who imagine themselves possessed of that omniscience which comprehends
all the facts and relations of the actual universe, and foreknows all
the details and relations of all possible universes so accurately as to
be able to pronounce upon their relative "advantages." The arrogance of
these critics is certainly in startling and ludicrous contrast with the
affected modesty which, on other occasions, restrains them from
"imputing any intentions to nature." It is quite enough for our purpose
to know that the tracing of evidences of _design_ in those parts of
nature accessible to our observation is an essentially different thing
from the construction of a scheme of _optimism_ on _à priori_ grounds
which shall embrace a universe the larger portion of which is virtually
beyond the field of observation. We are conscious of possessing some
rational data and some mental equipment for the former task, but for the
latter we feel utterly incompetent.[261]
[Footnote 259: In a foot-note Comte adds: "Nowadays, to minds
familiarized betimes with the true astronomical philosophy, the heavens
declare no other glory than that of Hipparchus, Kepler, Newton, and all
those who have contributed to the ascertainment of their laws." It seems
remarkable that the great men who _ascertained_ these laws did not see
that the saying of the Psalmist was emptied of all meaning by their
discoveries. No persons seem to have been more willing than these very
men named to ascribe all the glory to Him who _established_ these laws.
Kepler says: "The astronomer, to whom God has given to see more clearly
with his inward eye, from what he has discovered, both can and will
glorify God;" and Newton says: "This beautiful system of sun, planets,
comets could have its origin in no other way than by the purpose and
command of an intelligent and powerful Being. We admire him on account
of his perfections, we venerate and worship him on account of his
government."--Whewell's "Astronomy and Physics," pp. 197, 198.]
[Footnote 260: "Positive Philosophy," vol. ii. pp. 36-38; Tulloch,
"Theism," p. 115.]
[Footnote 261: Chalmers's "Institutes of Theology," vol. i. pp. 117,
118.]
The only plausible argument in the above quotation from Comte is, that
the whole phenomena of the solar system are adequately explained by the
law of gravitation, without the intervention of any intelligent purpose.
Let it be borne in mind that it is a fundamental principle of the
Positive philosophy that all human knowledge is necessarily confined to
phenomena _perceptible to sense_, and that the fast and highest
achievement of human science is to observe and record "the invariable
relations of resemblance and succession among phenomena." We can not
possibly know any thing of even the existence of "causes" or "forces"
lying back of phenomena, nor of "reasons" or "purposes" determining the
relations of phenomena. The "law of gravitation" must, therefore, be
simply the statement of a fact, the expression of an observed order of
phenomena. But the simple statement of a fact is no _explanation_ of the
fact. The formal expression of an observed order of succession among
phenomena is no _explanation_ of that order. For what do we mean by an
explanation? Is it not a "making plain" to the understanding? It is, in
short, a complete answer to the questions _how_ is it so? and _why_ is
it so? Now, if Comte denies to himself and to us all knowledge of
efficient and final causation, if we are in utter ignorance of "forces"
operating in nature, and of "reasons" for which things exist in nature,
he can not answer either question, and consequently nothing is
explained.
Practically, however, Comte regards gravitation as a force. The order of
the solar system has been established and is still maintained by the
mutual gravity of its several parts. We shall not stop here to note the
inconsistency of his denying to us the knowledge of, even the existence
of, force, and yet at the same time assuming to treat gravitation as a
force really adequate to the explanation of the _how_ and _why_ of the
phenomena of the universe, without any reference to a supernatural will
or an intelligent mind. The question with which we are immediately
concerned is whether gravitation _alone_ is adequate to the explanation
of the phenomena of the heavens? A review _in extenso_ of Comte's answer
to this question would lead us into all the inextricable mazes of the
nebular hypothesis, and involve us in a more extended discussion than
our space permits and our limited scientific knowledge justifies. For
the masses of the people the whole question of cosmical development
resolves itself into "a balancing of authorities;" they are not in a
position to verify the reasonings for and against this theory by actual
observation of astral phenomena, and the application of mathematical
calculus; they are, therefore, guided by balancing in their own minds
the statements of the distinguished astronomers who, by the united
suffrages of the scientific world, are regarded as "authorities." For
us, at present, it is enough that the nebular hypothesis is rejected by
some of the greatest astronomers that have lived. We need only mention
the names of Sir William Herschel, Sir John Herschel, Prof. Nichol, Earl
Rosse, Sir David Brewster, and Prof. Whewell.
But if we grant that the nebular hypothesis is entitled to take rank as
an established theory of the development of the solar system, it by no
means proves that the solar system was formed without the intervention
of intelligence and design. On this point we shall content ourselves
with quoting the words of one whose encyclopædian knowledge was
confessedly equal to that of Comte, and who in candor and accuracy was
certainly his superior. Prof. Whewell, in his "Astronomy and Physics,"
says: "This hypothesis by no means proves that the solar system was
formed without the intervention of intelligence and design. It only
transfers our view of the skill exercised and the means employed to
another part of the work; for how came the sun and its atmosphere to
have such materials, such motions, such a constitution, and these
consequences followed from their primordial condition? How came the
parent vapor thus to be capable of coherence, separation, contraction,
solidification? How came the laws of its motion, attraction, repulsion,
condensation, to be so fixed as to lead to a beautiful and harmonious
system in the end? How came it to be neither too fluid nor too
tenacious, to contract neither too quickly nor too slowly for the
successive formation of the several planetary bodies? How came that
substance, which at one time was a luminous vapor, to be at a subsequent
period solids and fluids of many various kinds? What but design and
intelligence prepared and tempered this previously-existing element, so
that it should, by its natural changes, produce such an orderly
system"?[262] "_The laws of motion alone will not produce the regularity
which we admire in the motion of the heavenly bodies_. There must be an
original adjustment of the system on which these laws are to act; a
selection of the arbitrary quantities which they are to involve; a
primitive cause which shall dispose the elements in due relation to each
other, in order that regular recurrence may accompany constant change,
and that perpetual motion may be combined with perpetual
stability."[263]
[Footnote 262: "Astronomy and Physics," p. 109.]
[Footnote 263: Chalmers's "Institutes of Theology," vol. i. p. 119.]
The harmony of the solar system in all its phenomena does not depend
upon the operation of any _one_ law, but from the special adjustment of
several laws. There are certain agents operating throughout the entire
system which have different properties, and which require special
adjustment to each other, in order to their beneficial operation. 1st.
There is _Gravitation,_ prevailing apparently through all space. But it
does not prevail alone. It is a force whose function is to balance other
forces of which we know little, except that these, again, are needed to
balance the force of gravitation. Each force, if left to itself, would
be the destruction of the universe. Were it not for the force of
gravitation, the centrifugal forces which impel the planets would fling
them off into space. Were it not for these centrifugal forces, the force
of gravitation would dash them against the sun. The ultimate fact of
astronomical science, therefore, is not the law of gravitation, but the
_adjustment_ between this law and other laws, so as to produce and
maintain the existing order.[264] 2d. There is _Light_, flowing from
numberless luminaries; and _Heat_, radiating everywhere from the warmer
to the colder regions; and there are a number of adjustments needed in
order to the beneficial operation of these agents. Suppose we grant that
by merely mechanical causes the sun became the centre of our system, how
did it become also the _source of its vivifying influences_? "How was
the fire deposited on this hearth? How was the candle placed on this
candlestick?" 3d. There is an all-pervading _Ether_, through which light
is transmitted, which offers resistance to the movement of the planetary
and cometary bodies, and tends to a dissipation of mechanical energy,
and which needs to be counter-balanced by well-adjusted arrangements to
secure the stability of the solar system. All this balancing of opposite
properties and forces carries our minds upward towards Him who holds the
balances in his hands, and to a Supreme Intelligence on whose
adjustments and collocations the harmony and stability of the universe
depends.[265]
[Footnote 264: Duke of Argyll, "Reign of Law," pp. 91, 92.]
[Footnote 265: M'Cosh, "Typical Forms and Special Ends," ch. xiii.]
The recognition of all teleology of organs in vegetable and animal
physiology is also persistently repudiated by this school. When Cuvier
speaks of the combination of organs in such order as to adapt the animal
to the part which it has to play in nature, Geoffroy Saint Hilaire
replies, "I know nothing of animals which have to play a part in
nature." "I have read, concerning fishes, that, because they live in a
medium which resists more than air, their motive forces are calculated
so as to give them the power of progression under these circumstances.
By this mode of reasoning, you would say of a man who makes use of
crutches, that he was originally destined to the misfortune of having a
leg paralyzed or amputated.[266] "With a modesty which savors of
affectation, he says, "I ascribe no intentions to God, for I mistrust
the feeble powers of my reason. I observe facts merely, and go no
farther. I only pretend to the character of the historian of _what is_."
"I can not make Nature an intelligent being who does nothing in vain,
who acts by the shortest mode, who does all for the best."[267] All the
supposed consorting of means to ends which has hitherto been regarded as
evidencing Intelligence is simply the result of "the elective affinities
of organic elements" and "the differentiation of organs" consequent
mainly upon exterior conditions. "_Functions are a result, not an end_.
The animal undergoes the kind of life that his organs impose, and
submits to the imperfections of his organization. The naturalist studies
the play of his apparatus, and if he has the right of admiring most of
its parts, he has likewise that of showing the imperfection of other
parts, and the practical uselessness of those which fulfill no
functions."[268] And it is further claimed that there are a great many
structures which are clearly useless; that is, they fulfill no purpose
at all. Thus there are monkeys, which have no thumbs for use, but only
rudimental thumb-bones hid beneath the skin; the wingless bird of New
Zealand (Apteryx) has wing-bones similarly developed, which serve no
purpose; young whalebone whales are born with teeth that never cut the
gums, and are afterwards absorbed; and some sheep have horns turned
about their ears which fulfill no end. And inasmuch as there are some
organisms in nature which serve no purpose of utility, it is argued
there is no design in nature; things are _used_ because there are
antecedent conditions favorable for _use_, but that use is not the _end_
for which the organ exists. The true naturalist will never say, "Birds
have wings given them _in order_ to fly;" he will rather say, "Birds fly
_because_ they have wings." The doctrine of final causes must,
therefore, be abandoned.
[Footnote 266: Whewell, "History of Inductive Sciences," vol. ii. p.
486.]
[Footnote 267: Id., ib., vol. ii. p. 490.]
[Footnote 268: Martin's "Organic Unity in Animals and Vegetables," in M.
Q. Review, January, 1863.]
It is hardly worth while to reply to the lame argument of Geoffroy,
which needs a "crutch" for its support. The very illustration,
undignified and irrelevant as it is, tells altogether against its
author. For, first, the crutch is certainly a _contrivance_ designed for
locomotion; secondly, the length and strength and lightness of the
crutch are all matters of calculation and _adjustment_; and, thirdly,
all the adaptations of the crutch are well-considered, in order to
enable the lame man to walk; the function of the crutch is the final
cause of its creation. This crutch is clearly out of place in Geoffroy's
argument, and utterly breaks down. It is in its place in the
teleological argument, and stands well, though it may not behave as well
as the living limb. The understanding of a child can perceive that the
design-argument does not assert that men were intended to have amputated
limbs, but that crutches are designed for those whose limbs are
paralyzed or amputated.
The existence of useless members, of rudimentary and abortive limbs,
does seem, at first sight, to be unfavorable to the idea of supremacy of
purpose and all-pervading design. It should be remarked, however, that
this is an argument based upon our ignorance, and not upon our
knowledge. It does not by any means follow that because we have
discovered no reasons for their existence, therefore there are no
reasons. Science, in enlarging its conquests of nature, is perpetually
discovering the usefulness of arrangements of which our fathers were
ignorant, and the reasons of things which to their minds, were
concealed; and it ill becomes the men who so far "mistrust their own
feeble powers" as to be afraid of ascribing any intention to God or
nature, to dogmatically affirm there is no purpose in the existence of
any thing. And then we may ask, what right have these men to set up the
idea of "utility" as the only standard to which the Creator must
conform? How came they to know that God is a mere "utilitarian;" or, if
they do not believe in God, that nature is a miserable "Benthamite?" Why
may not the idea of beauty, of symmetry, of order, be a standard for the
universe, as much as the idea of utility, or mere subordination to some
practical end? May not conformity to one grand and comprehensive plan,
sweeping over all nature, be perfectly compatible with the adaptation of
individual existences to the fulfillment of special ends? In civil
architecture we have conformity to a general plan; we have embellishment
and ornament, and we have adaptation to a special purpose, all combined;
why may not these all be combined in the architecture of the universe?
The presence of any one of these is sufficient to prove design, for mere
ornament or beauty is itself a purpose, an object, and an end. The
concurrence of all these is an overwhelming evidence of design. Wherever
found, they are universally recognized as the product of intelligence;
they address themselves at once to the intelligence of man, and they
place him in immediate relation to and in deepest sympathy with the
Intelligence which gave them birth. He that formed the eye of man to
see, and the heart of man to admire beauty, shall He not delight in it?
He that gave the hand of man its cunning to create beauty, shall He not
himself work for it? And if man can and does combine both "ornament" and
"use" in one and the same implement or machine, why should not the
Creator of the world do the same? "When the savage carves the handle of
his war-club, the immediate purpose of his carving is to give his own
hand a firmer hold. But any shapeless scratches would be enough for
this. When he carves it in an elaborate pattern, he does so for the love
of ornament, and to satisfy the sense of beauty." And so "the harmonies,
on which all beauty depends, are so connected in nature that _use_ and
_ornament_ may often both arise out of the same conditions."[269]
[Footnote 269: Duke of Argyll, "Reign of Law," p. 203.]
The "true naturalist," therefore, recognizes two great principles
pervading the universe--_a principle of order_--a unity of plan, and _a
principle of special adaptation_, by which each object, though
constructed upon a general plan, is at the same time accommodated to the
place it has to occupy and the purpose it has to serve. In other words,
there is _homology of structure_ and _analogy of function_, conformity
to _archetypal forms_ and _Teleology of organs_, in wonderful
combination. Now, in the Materialistic school, it has been the prevalent
practice to set up the unity of plan in animal structures, in opposition
to the principle of Final Causes: Morphology has been opposed to
Teleology. But in nature there is no such opposition; on the contrary,
there is a beautiful co-ordination. The same bones, in different
animals, are made subservient to the widest possible diversity of
functions. The same limbs are converted into fins, paddles, wings, legs,
and arms. "No comparative anatomist has the slightest hesitation in
admitting that the pectoral fin of a fish, the wing of a bird, the
paddle of the dolphin, the fore-leg of a deer, the wing of a bat, and
the arm of a man, are the same organs, notwithstanding that their forms
are so varied, and the uses to which they are applied so unlike each
other."[270] All these are homologous in structure--they are formed
after an ideal archetype or model, but that model or type is variously
modified to adapt the animal to the sphere of life in which it is
destined to move, and the organ itself to the functions it has to
perform, whether swimming, flying, walking, or burrowing, or that varied
manipulation of which the human hand is capable. These varied
modifications of the vertebrated type, for special purposes, are
unmistakable examples of final causation. Whilst the silent members, the
rudimental limbs instanced by Oken, Martins, and others--as fulfilling
no purpose, and serving no end, exist in conformity to an ideal
archetype on which the bony skeletons of all vertebrated animals are
formed,[271] and which has never been departed from since time began.
This type, or model, or plan, is, however, itself an evidence of
_design_ as much as the plan of a house. For to what standard are we
referring when we say that two limbs are morphologically the same? Is it
not an _ideal_ plan, a _mental_ pattern, a metaphysical conception? Now
an _ideal_ implies a mind which preconceived the idea, and in which
alone it really exists. It is only as "an _order of Divine thought_"
that the doctrine of animal homologies is at all intelligible; and
Homology is, therefore, the science which traces the outward embodiment
of a Divine Idea.[272] The principle of intentionality or final
causation, then, is not in any sense invalidated by the discovery of "a
unity of plan" sweeping through the entire universe.
[Footnote 270: Carpenter's "Comparative Physiology," p. 37.]
[Footnote 271: Agassiz, "Essay on Classification," p. 10.]
[Footnote 272: Whewell's "History of Inductive Sciences," vol. i. p.
644; "The Reign of Law," p. 208; Agassiz, "Essay on Classification," pp.
9-11.]
We conclude that we are justly entitled to regard "the principle of
intentionality" as a primary and necessary law of thought, under which
we can not avoid conceiving and describing the facts of the
universe--_the special adaptation of means to ends necessarily implies
mind_. Whenever and wherever we observe the adaptation of an organism to
the fulfillment of a special end, we can not avoid conceiving of that
_end_ as foreseen and premeditated, the _means_ as selected and adjusted
with a view to that end, and creative energy put forth to secure the
end--all which is the work of intelligence and will.[273] And we can not
describe these facts of nature, so as to render that account
intelligible to other minds, without using such terms as "contrivance,"
"purpose," "adaptation," "design." A striking illustration of this may
be found in Darwin's volume "On the Fertilization of Orchids." We select
from his volume with all the more pleasure because he is one of the
writers who enjoins "caution in ascribing intentions to nature." In one
sentence he says: "The _Labellum_ is developed into a long nectary, _in
order_ to attract _Lepidoptera_; and we shall presently give reasons for
suspecting the nectar is _purposely_ so lodged that it can be sucked
only slowly, _in order_ to give time for the curious chemical quality of
the viscid matter settling hard and dry" (p. 29). Of one particular
structure he says: "This _contrivance_ of the guiding ridges may be
compared to the little instrument sometimes used for guiding a thread
into the eye of a needle." The notion that every organism has a use or
purpose seems to have guided him in his discoveries. "The strange
position of the _Labellum_, perched on the summit of the column, ought
to have shown me that here was the place for experiment. I ought to have
scorned the notion that the _Labellum_ was thus placed _for no good
purpose_. I neglected this plain guide, and for a long time completely
failed to understand the flower" (p. 262).[274]
[Footnote 273: Carpenter's "Principles of Comparative Physiology," p.
723.]
[Footnote 274: Edinburgh Review, October, 1862; article, "The
Supernatural."]
So that the assumption of final causes has not, as Bacon affirms, "led
men astray" and "prejudiced further discovery;" on the contrary, it has
had a large share in every discovery in anatomy and physiology, zoology
and botany. The use of every organ has been discovered by starting from
the assumption _that it must have some use_. The belief in a creative
purpose led Harvey to discover the circulation of the blood. He says:
"When I took notice that the valves in the veins of so many parts of the
body were so placed that they gave a free passage to the blood towards
the heart, but opposed the passage of the venal blood the contrary way,
I was incited to imagine that so provident a cause as Nature has not
placed so many valves _without design_, and no design seemed more
probable than the circulation of the blood."[275] The wonderful
discoveries in Zoology which have immortalized the name of Cuvier were
made under the guidance of this principle. He proceeds on the
supposition not only that animal forms have _some_ plan, _some_ purpose,
but that they have an intelligible plan, a discoverable purpose. At the
outset of his "_Règne Animal_" he says: "Zoology has a principle of
reasoning which is peculiar to it, and which it employs to advantage on
many occasions; that is, the principle of the conditions of existence,
commonly called final causes."[276] The application of this principle
enabled him to understand and arrange the structures of animals with
astonishing clearness and completeness of order; and to restore the
forms of extinct animals which are found in the rocks, in a manner which
excited universal admiration, and has commanded universal assent.
Indeed, as Professor Whewell remarks, at the conclusion of his "History
of the Inductive Sciences," "those who have been discoverers in science
have generally had minds, the disposition of which was to believe in an
_intelligent Maker_ of the universe, and that the scientific
speculations which produced an opposite tendency were generally those
which, though they might deal familiarly with known physical truths, and
conjecture boldly with regard to unknown, do not add to the number of
solid generalizations."[277]
[Footnote 275: "History of Inductive Science," vol. ii. p. 449.]
[Footnote 276: "History of Inductive Science," vol. ii. p. 2, Eng. ed.]
[Footnote 277: Ibid., vol. ii. p. 491. A list of the "great discoverers"
is given in his "Astronomy and Physics," bk. iii. ch. v.]