THE WORLD AS AN EJECT.
In the Introduction to this essay I have sought to show that there are,
for the purposes of practical discussion, but three theories of the
World of Being. There is, first, the theory of Materialism, which
supposes matter in motion to be the ultimate or self-existing Reality,
and, therefore, the cause of mind. Next, there is the theory of
Spiritualism, which supposes mind to be the ultimate Reality, and,
therefore, the cause of matter in motion. Lastly, there is the theory of
Monism which supposes matter in motion to be substantially identical
with mind, and, therefore, that as between mind and matter in motion
there is no causal relation either way. In the foregoing chapters I have
considered these three theories, and argued that of them the
last-mentioned is the only one which satisfies all the facts of feeling
on the one hand, and of observation on the other. The theory of Monism
alone is able to explain, without inherent contradiction, the phenomena
both of the subjective and objective spheres.
It is my present purpose to extend the considerations already presented.
Assuming the theory of Monism, I desire to ascertain the result to which
it will lead when applied to the question whether we ought to regard the
external world as of a character mental or non-mental. As observed in my
Rede Lecture (_supra_, p. 33), this question has already been considered
by the late Professor Clifford, who decided that on the monistic theory
the probability pointed towards the external world being of a character
non-mental; that, although the whole universe is composed of
'mind-stuff,' the universe as a whole is mindless. This decision I then
briefly criticized; it is now my object to contemplate the matter
somewhat more in detail.
I will assume, on account of reasons previously given, that when we
speak of matter in motion we do not at all know what it is that moves,
nor do we know at all what it is that we mean by motion. Therefore if,
as unknown quantities, we call matter _a_ and motion _b_, all we are
entitled to affirm is that _a + b = z_, where _z_ is a known quantity,
or mind. Obversely stated, we may say that the known quantity _z_ is
capable of being resolved into the unknown _a + b_. But, inasmuch as
both _a_ and _b_ are unknown, we may simplify matters by regarding their
sum as a single unknown quantity _x_, which we take to be substantially
identical with its obverse aspect known as _z_.
Here, then, are our data. The theory of Monism teaches that what we
perceive as matter in motion, _x_, is the obverse of what we know as
mind, _z_. What, then, do we know of _z_? In the first place, we well
know that this is the only entity with which we are acquainted, so to
speak, at first hand; all our knowledge of _x_ (which is the only other
knowledge we possess) is possible only in so far as we are able to
translate it into terms of _z_. In the next place, we know that _z_ is
itself an entity of the most enormous complexity. Standing as a symbol
of the whole range of individual subjectivity, it may be said to
constitute for each individual the symbol of his own personality--or the
sum total of his conscious life. Now each individual knows by direct
knowledge that his conscious life is, as I have said, of enormous
complexity, and that numberless ingredients of feeling, thought, and
volition are therein combined in numberless ways. Therefore the symbol
_z_ may be considered as the sum of innumerable constituent parts,
grouped _inter se_ in numberless systems of more or less complexity.
From these considerations we arrive at the following conclusions. The
theory of Monism teaches that all _z_ is _x_; but it does not,
therefore, necessarily teach that all _x_ is _z_. Nevertheless, it does
teach that if all _x_ is not _z_, this must be because _x_ is _z_,
_plus_ something more than _z_, as a little thought will be sufficient
to show. Thus, the four annexed diagrams exhaust the logical
possibilities of any case, where the question is as to the inclusion or
exclusion of one quantity by another. In Fig. 1 the two quantities are
coincident; in Fig 2 the one is wholly included by the other; in Fig. 3
it is partially included; and in Fig. 4 wholly excluded. Now in the
present case, and upon the data supplied, the logical possibilities are
exhausted by Figs. 1 and 2. For, upon these data, Figs. 3 and 4
obviously represent logical impossibilities; no part of Mind can,
according to these data, stand outside the limits of Matter and Motion.
Therefore, if the Ego is not coincident with the Non-ego (or if all _x_
is not _z_, as in Fig. 1), this can only be because the Ego is less
extensive than the Non-ego (or because _x_ is _z plus_ something more
than _z_, as in Fig. 2).
[Illustration: Fig. 1]
[Illustration: Fig. 2]
[Illustration: Fig. 3]
[Illustration: Fig. 4]
Of these two logical possibilities Idealism, in its most extreme form,
may adopt the first. For Idealism in this form may hold that apart from
the Ego there is no external world; that outside of _z_ there is no _x_;
that the only _esse_ is the _percipi_. But, as very few persons
nowadays are prepared to go the length of seriously maintaining that in
actual fact there is no external world save in so far as this is
perceived by the individual mind, I need not wait to consider this
possibility. We are thus practically shut up to a consideration of the
possibility marked 2.
[Illustration: Fig. 5]
[Illustration: Fig. 6]
[Illustration: Fig. 7]
The theory of Monism, then, teaches that _x_ is _z_ _plus_ something
more than _z_; and therefore it becomes a matter of great moment to
consider the probable nature of the overplus. For it obviously does not
follow that because _x_ is greater than _z_ in a logical sense,
therefore _x_ must be greater than _z_ in a psychological sense. Save
upon the theory of Idealism (with which Monism is not specially
concerned) the amount (whatever it may be) wherein _x_ is greater than
_z_, may not present any psychological signification at all. We may find
that the surface of our globe is considerably larger than that of the
dry land, and yet it may not follow that the mental-life to be met with
in the sea is psychologically superior to that which occurs on dry land.
If, therefore, we represent by comparative shading degrees of
psychological excellence, it is evident that the theory of Monism must
entertain the three possibilities indicated diagrammatically in Figs. 5,
6, and 7. It makes no difference what the comparative areas of _x_ and
_z_ may be, or whether _x_ be uniformly shaded throughout its extent.
All we have so far to notice is that the fact of logical inclusion does
not necessarily carry with it the implication of psychological
superiority.
Next we must notice that besides our own subjectivities, we have
cognizance of being surrounded by many other inferred subjectivities
more or less like in kind (i. e. other human minds); and also yet many
other inferred subjectivities more or less unlike, but all inferior (i.
e. the minds of lower animals, young children, and idiots). Following
Clifford, I will call these inferred subjectivities by the name of
ejects, and assign to them the symbol _y_. Thus, in the following
discussion, _x_ = the objective world, _y_ = the ejective world, and _z_
= subjective world. Now, the theory of Monism supposes that _x_, _y_,
and _z_ are all alike in kind, but present no definite teaching as to
how far they may differ in degree. We may, however, at once allow that
between the psychological value of _z_ and that of _y_ there is a wide
difference of degree; and also that, while the value of _z_ is a fixed
quantity, that of _y_ varies greatly in the different parts of the area
_y_. Our scheme, therefore, will now adopt this form--
[Illustration]
But the important question remains how we ought to shade _x_. According
to Clifford, this ought scarcely to be shaded at all, while according to
theologians (and theists generally) it ought to be shaded so much more
deeply than either _y_ or _z_, that the joint representation in one
diagram would only be possible by choosing for the shading of _x_ a
colour different from that employed for _y_ and _z_, and assigning to
that colour a representative value higher than that assigned to the
other in the ratio of one to infinity. It will be my object to estimate
the relative probability of these rival estimates of the psychological
value of _x_.
Starting from _z_ as our centre, we know that this is an isolated system
of subjectivity, and hence we infer that all _y_ is composed of
analogous systems, resembling one another as to their isolation, and
differing only in their degrees of psychological value. Now this,
translated into terms of _x_ (or into terms of objectivity) means that
_z_ is an isolated system of matter in motion, and that the same has to
be said of all the constituent parts of _y_. In other words, both
subjectivity and ejectivity are only known under the condition of being
isolated from objectivity; which, obversely considered, means that the
matter in motion here concerned is temporarily separated off from the
rest of the objective world, in such wise that it forms a distinct
system of its own. If any part of the objective world rudely forces its
way within the machinery of that system, it is at the risk of
disarranging the machinery and stopping its work--as is the case when a
bullet enters the brain. Such converse as the brain normally holds with
the external world, is held through the appointed channels of the
senses, whereby appropriate causation is supplied to keep the otherwise
isolated system at work. We know, from physiological evidence, that when
such external causation is withheld, the isolated system ceases to work;
therefore, the isolation, although complete under one point of view,
under another point of view is incomplete. It is complete only in the
sense in which the isolation of a machine is complete--i. e. it is in
itself a working system, yet its working is ultimately dependent upon
causation supplied from without in certain appropriate ways. This truth
is likewise testified to on the obverse aspect of psychology. For
analysis shows that all our mental processes (however complex they may
be internally) are ultimately dependent on impressions of the external
world gained through the senses. Whether regarded objectively or
subjectively, therefore, we find that it is the business of the isolated
system to elaborate, by its internal processes, the raw materials which
are supplied to it from without. Seeing, then, that the isolation of the
system is thus only partial, we may best apply to it the term
circumscribed. Such partial isolation or circumscription of matter in
motion--so that it shall in itself constitute a little working
microcosm--appears to be the first condition to the being of a
subjective personality. Why, then, does not the working of a machine
present a subjective side?
Our answer to this question is to be found in the following
considerations. We are going upon the hypothesis that all mind is matter
in motion, and that all matter in motion is mind--or, as Clifford
phrased it, that all the external world is composed of mind-stuff. No
matter how lightly we may shade _x_, we are assuming that it must be
shaded, and not left perfectly white. Now, both mind and matter in
motion admit of degrees: first as to quantity, next as to velocity, and
lastly as to complexity. But the degrees of matter in motion are found,
in point of observable fact, not to correspond with those of mind, save
in the last particular of complexity, where there is unquestionably an
evident correspondence. Therefore it is that a machine, although
conforming to the prime condition of subjectivity in being a
circumscribed system of matter in motion, nevertheless does not attain
to subjectivity: the _x_ does not rise to _z_ because the internal
processes of _x_ are not sufficiently intricate, or their intricacy is
not of the appropriate kind. From which it follows that although, as I
have said, all matter in motion is mind, merely as matter in motion (or
irrespective of the kinds and degrees of both) it may not necessarily be
mind in the elaborated form of consciousness: it may only be the raw
material of mind--or, as Clifford called it, mind-stuff. Thus, although
all conscious volition is matter in motion, it does not follow that all
matter in motion is conscious volition. Which serves to restate the
question as to how far it is probable, or improbable, that all matter in
motion is conscious volition--i.e. how deeply we ought to shade _x_.
Well, the first thing to be considered in answering this question is
that, according to the theory of Monism, we _know_ that it is within the
range of possibility for matter in motion to reach a level of intricacy
which shall yield conscious volition, and even self-conscious thought of
an extremely high order of development. Therefore, the only question is
as to whether it is possible, or in any way probable, that matter in
motion as occurring in _x_ resembles, in point of intricacy, matter in
motion as occurring in _z_. Professor Clifford perceived that this is
the core of the question, and staked the whole answer to it on an
extremely simple issue. He said that unless we can show in the
disposition of heavenly bodies some morphological resemblance to the
structure of a human brain, we are precluded from rationally
entertaining any probability that self-conscious volition belongs to the
universe. Obviously, this way of presenting the case is so grossly
illogical that even the exigencies of popular exposition cannot be held
to justify the presentation. For aught that we can know to the contrary,
not merely the highly specialized structure of the human brain, but even
that of nervous matter in general, may only be one of a thousand
possible ways in which the material and dynamical conditions required
for the apparition of self-consciousness can be secured. To imagine that
the human brain of necessity exhausts these possibilities is in the last
degree absurd. Therefore, we may suggest the following presentation of
Clifford's case as one that is less obviously inadequate:--if any
resemblance to the material and dynamical conditions of the microcosm
can be detected in the macrocosm, we should have good reason to ascribe
to the latter those attributes of subjectivity which we know as
belonging to the former; but if no such resemblance can be traced, we
shall have some reason to suppose that these attributes do not belong to
the universe. Even this, however, I should regard as much too wide a
statement of the case. To take the particular conditions under which
alone subjectivity is known to occur upon a single planet as exhausting
the possibilities of its occurrence elsewhere, is too flagrant a use of
the method of simple enumeration to admit of a moment's countenance.
Even the knowledge that we have of the two great conditions under which
terrestrial subjectivities occur--circumscription and complexity--is
only empirical. It may well be that elsewhere (or apart from the
conditions imposed by nervous tissue) subjectivity is possible
irrespective both of circumscription and of complexity. Therefore,
properly or logically regarded, the great use of the one exhibition of
subjectivity furnished to human experience, is the proof thus furnished
that subjectivity is possible under _some_ conditions; and the utmost
which on the grounds of such proof human experience is entitled to argue
is, that _probably_, if subjectivity is possible elsewhere, its
possibility is given by those conditions of circumscription and
complexity in the material and dynamical relations concerned, which we
find to be the invariable and quantitative concomitants of subjectivity
within experience. But this is a widely different thing from saying that
the only kind of such circumscription and complexity--or the only
disposition of these relations--which can present a subjective side is
that which is found in the structures and functions of a nervous system.
Now, if we fix our attention merely on this matter of complexity, and
refuse to be led astray by obviously false analogies of a more special
kind, I think there can be no question that the macrocosm does furnish
amply sufficient opportunity, as it were, for the presence of
subjectivity, even if it be assumed that subjectivity can only be
yielded by an order of complexity analogous to that of a nervous system.
For, considering the material and dynamical system of the universe as a
whole, it is obvious that the complexity presented is greater than that
of any of its parts. Not only is it true that all these parts are
included in the whole, and that even the visible sidereal system alone
presents movements of enormous intricacy[9], but we find, for instance,
that even within the limits of this small planet there is presented to
actual observation a peculiar form of circumscribed complex, fully
comparable with that of the individual brain, and yet external to each
individual brain. For the so-called 'social organism,' although composed
of innumerable individual personalities, is, with regard to each of its
constituent units, a part of the objective world--just as the human
brain would be, were each of its constituent cells of a construction
sufficiently complex to yield a separate personality.
If to this it be objected that, as a matter of fact, the social organism
does not possess a self-conscious personality, I will give a twofold
answer. In the first place, Who told the objector that it has not? For
aught that any one of its constituent personalities can prove to the
contrary, this social organism may possess self-conscious personality of
the most vivid character: its constituent human minds may be born into
it and die out of it as do the constituent cells of the human body: it
may feel the throes of war and famine, rejoice in the comforts of peace
and plenty: it may appreciate the growth of civilization as its passage
from childhood to maturity. If this at first sight appears a grotesque
supposition, we must remember that it would appear equally so to ascribe
such possibilities to the individual brain, were it not for the
irrelevant accident of this particular form of complex standing in such
relation to our own subjectivity that we are able to verify the fact of
its ejectivity. Thus, for aught that we can tell to the contrary, Comte
may have been even more justified than his followers suppose, in
teaching the personification of Humanity.
But, in the next place, if the social organism is not endowed with
personality, this may be for either one of two reasons. All the
conditions required for attaining so high a level of psychical
perfection may not be here present; or else the level of psychical
perfection may be higher than that which we know as personality. This
latter alternative will be considered in another relation by-and-by, so
I will not dwell upon it now. But with reference to all these possible
contingencies, I may observe that we are not without clear indications
of the great fact that the high order of complexity which has been
reached by the social organism _is_ accompanied by evidence of something
which we may least dimly define as resembling subjectivity. In
numberless ways, which I need not wait to enumerate, we perceive that
society exhibits the phenomena both of thought and conduct. And these
phenomena cannot always be explained by regarding them as the sum of the
thoughts and actions of its constituent individuals--or, at least, they
can only be so regarded by conceding that the thoughts and actions of
the constituent individuals, when thus _summated_, yield a different
product from that which would be obtained by a merely arithmetical
computation of the constituent parts: the composite product differs from
its component elements, as H_2O differs from 2H + O. The general truth
of this remark will, I believe, be appreciated by all historians.
Seeing that ideas are often, as it is said, 'in the air' before they are
condensed in the mind of individual genius, we habitually speak of the
'Zeit-geist' as the product of a kind of collective psychology, which is
something other than the mere sum of all the individual minds of a
generation. That is to say, we regard society as an eject, and the more
that a man studies the thought and conduct of society, the more does he
become convinced that we are right in so regarding it. Of course this
eject is manifestly unlike that which we form of another individual
mind: it is much more general, vague, and so far unlike the pattern of
our own subjectivity that even to ascribe to it the important attribute
of personality is felt, as we have just seen, to approach the grotesque.
Still, in this vague and general way we do ascribe to society ejective
existence: we habitually think of the whole world of human thought and
feeling as a psychological complex, which is other than, and more than,
a mere shorthand enumeration of all the thoughts and feelings of all
individual human beings.
The ejective existence thus ascribed to society serves as a
stepping-stone to the yet more vague and general ascription of such
existence to the Cosmos. At first, indeed, or during the earliest stages
of culture, the ascription of ejective existence to the external world
is neither vague nor general: on the contrary, it is most distinct and
specific. Beginning in the rudest forms of animism, where every natural
process admits of being immediately attributed to the volitional agency
of an unseen spirit, anthropomorphism sets out upon its long course of
development, which proceeds _pari passu_ with the development of
abstract thought. Man, as it has been truly said, universally makes God
in his own image; and it is difficult to see how the case could be
otherwise. Universally the eject must assume the pattern of the subject,
and it is only in the proportion that this pattern presents the features
of abstract thinking that the image which it throws becomes less and
less man-like. Hence, as Mr. Fiske has shown in detail, so soon as
anthropomorphism has assumed its highest state of development, it begins
to be replaced by a continuous growth of 'deanthropomorphism,' which,
passing through polytheism into monotheism, eventually ends in a
progressive 'purification' of theism--by which is meant a progressive
metamorphosis of the theistic conception, tending to remove from Deity
the attributes of Humanity. The last of these attributes to disappear is
that of personality, and when this final ecdysis has been performed, the
eject which remains is so unlike its original subject, that, as we shall
immediately find, it is extremely difficult to trace any points of
resemblance between them.
Now it is with this perfect, or imago condition of the world-eject, that
we have to do. Mr. Herbert Spencer, in what I consider the profoundest
reaches of his philosophic thought, has well shown, on the one hand,
how impossible it is to attribute to Deity any of the specific
attributes of mind as known to ourselves subjectively; and, on the other
hand, how it is possible to conceive 'symbolically' that the universe
may be instinct with a 'quasi-psychical' principle, as greatly
transcending personality as personality transcends mechanical
motion[10]. Accepting, then, the world-eject in this its highest
conceivable stage of evolution, I desire to contemplate it under the
light of the monistic theory.
We have seen that, whether we look upon the subjective or objective face
of personality, we find that personality arises from limitation--or, as
I have previously termed it, circumscription. Now, we have no evidence,
nor are we able to conceive, of the external world as limited;
consequently we are not able to conceive, of the world-eject as
personal. But, inasmuch as personality arises only from limitation, the
conclusion that the world-eject is impersonal does not tend to show that
it is of lower psychical value than conscious personality: on the
contrary, it tends to show that it is probably of higher psychical
value. True, we are not able to conceive actually of mind as impersonal;
but we can see that this merely arises from our only experience of mind
being given under conditions of personality; and, as just observed, it
is possible to conceive symbolically that there may be a form of mind as
greatly transcending personality as personality transcends mechanical
motion.
Now, although we cannot conceive of such a mind actually, we may most
probably make the nearest approach to conceiving of it truly, by
_provisionally_ ascribing to it the highest attributes of mind as known
to ourselves, or the attributes which belong to human personality. Just
as a thinking insect would derive a better, or more true, conception of
human personality by considering it ejectively than by considering it
objectively (or by considering the mind-processes as distinguished from
the brain-processes), so, if there is a form of mind immeasurably
superior to our own, we may probably gain a more faithful--howsoever
still inadequate--conception of it by contemplating its operations
ejectively than by doing so objectively. I will, therefore, speak of the
world-eject as presenting conscious volition, on the understanding that
if _x_ does not present either consciousness or volition, this must
be--according to the fundamental assumption of psychism on which we are
now proceeding--because _x_ presents attributes at least as much higher
than consciousness or volition as these are higher than mechanical
motion. For when we consider the utmost that our conscious volition is
able to accomplish in the way of contrivance--how limited its knowledge,
how short its duration, how restricted its range, and how imperfect its
adaptations--we can only conclude that _if_ the ultimate constitution of
all things is pyschical, the philosophy of the Cosmos becomes a
'philosophy of the Unconscious' only because it is a philosophy of the
Superconscious.
Now, if once we feel ourselves able to transcend the preliminary--and
doubtless very considerable--difficulty of symbolically conceiving the
world-eject as super-conscious, and (because not limited) also
super-personal, I think there can be no question that the world-object
furnishes overwhelming proof of psychism. I candidly confess that I am
not myself able to overcome the preliminary difficulty in question. By
discharging the elements of personality and conscious volition from the
world-eject, I appear to be discharging from my conception of mind all
that most distinctively belongs to that conception; and thus I seem to
be brought back again to the point from which we started: the
world-eject appears to have again resolved itself into the unknown
quantity _x_. But here we must distinguish between actual conception and
symbolical conception. Although it is unquestionably true that I can
form no actual conception of Mind save as an eject of personality and
conscious volition, it is a question whether I am not able to form a
symbolical conception of Mind as thus extended. For I know that
consciousness, implying as it does continual change in serial order of
circumscribed mental processes, is not (symbolically considered) the
highest conceivable exhibition of Mind; and just as a mathematician is
able to deal symbolically with space of _n_ dimensions, while only able
really to conceive of space as limited to three dimensions, so I feel
that I ought not to limit the abstract possibilities of mental being by
what I may term the accidental conditions of my own being.
I need scarcely wait to show why it appears to me that if this position
is granted, the world-object furnishes, as I have said, overwhelming
proof of psychism; for this proof has been ably presented by many other
writers. There is first the antecedent improbability that the human mind
should be the highest manifestation of subjectivity in this universe of
infinite objectivity. There is next the fact that throughout this
universe of infinite objectivity--so far, at least, as human observation
can extend--there is unquestionable evidence of some one integrating
principle, whereby all its many and complex parts are correlated with
one another in such wise that the result is universal order. And if we
take any part of the whole system--such as that of organic nature on
this planet--to examine in more detail, we find that it appears to be
instinct with contrivance. So to speak, wherever we tap organic nature,
it seems to flow with purpose; and, as we shall presently see, upon the
monistic theory the evidence of purpose is here in no way attenuated by
a full acceptance of any of the 'mechanical' explanations furnished by
science. Now, these large and important facts of observation
unquestionably point, as just observed, to some one integrating
principle as pervading the Cosmos; and, if so, we can scarcely be wrong
in supposing that among all our conceptions it must hold nearest kinship
to that which is our highest conception of an integrating cause--viz.,
the conception of psychism. Assuredly no human mind could either have
devised or maintained the working of even a fragment of Nature; and,
therefore, it seems but reasonable to conclude that the integrating
principle of the whole--the Spirit, as it were, of the Universe--must be
something which, while as I have said holding nearest kinship with our
highest conception of disposing power, must yet be immeasurably superior
to the psychism of man. The world-eject thus becomes invested with a
psychical value as greatly transcending in magnitude that of the human
mind, as the material frame of the universe transcends in its magnitude
the material frame of the human body. Therefore, without in any way
straining the theory of Monism, we may provisionally shade _x_ more
deeply than _z_, and this in some immeasurable degree.
* * * * *
One other matter remains to be considered with reference to this
world-eject as sanctioned by Monism. It leaves us free to regard all
natural causation as a direct exhibition of psychism. The prejudice
against anything approaching a theistic interpretation of the Universe
nowadays arises chiefly from the advance of physical science having
practically revealed the ubiquity of natural causes. It is felt that
when a complete explanation of any given phenomenon has been furnished
in terms of these causes, there is no need to go further; the phenomenon
has been rendered intelligible on its mechanical side, and therefore it
is felt that we have no reason to suppose that it presents a mental
side--any supplementary causation of a mental kind being regarded as
superfluous. Even writers who expressly repudiate this reasoning prove
themselves to be habitually under its influence; for we constantly find
that such writers, after conceding the mechanical explanations as far as
these have been _proved_, take their stand upon the more intricate
phenomena of Nature where, as yet, the mechanical explanations are not
forthcoming. Whether it be at the origin of life, the origin of
sentiency, of instinct, of rationality, of morality, or of religion,
these writers habitually argue that here, at least, the purely
mechanical interpretations fail; and that here, consequently, there is
still room left for a psychical interpretation. Of course the pleading
for theism thus supplied is seen by others to be of an extremely feeble
quality; for while, on the one hand, it rests only upon ignorance of
natural causation (as distinguished from any knowledge of super-natural
causation), on the other hand, abundant historical analogies are
available to show that it is only a question of time when pleading of
this kind will become more and more restricted in its subject-matter,
till eventually it be altogether silenced. But the pleading which Monism
is here able to supply can never be silenced.
For, according to Monism, all matter in motion is mind; and, therefore,
matter in motion is merely the objective revelation, _to_ us and _for_
us, of that which in its subjective aspect--or in its ultimate
reality--is mind. Just as the operations of my friend's mind can only be
revealed to me through the mechanical operations of his body, so it may
very well be that the operations of the Supreme Mind (supposing such to
exist) can only be revealed to me through the mechanical operations of
Nature. The only difference between the two cases is that while I am
able, in the case of my friend's mind, to elicit responses of mechanical
movement having a definite and intended relation to the operations of my
own mind, similarly expressed to him; such is not the case with Nature.
With the friend-eject I am able to _converse_; but not so with the
world-eject[11]. This great difference, however, although obviously
depriving me of any such direct corroboration of psychism in the
world-eject as that which I thus derive of psychism in the friend-eject,
ought not to be regarded by me as amounting, in the smallest degree, to
_disproof_ of psychism in the world-eject. The fact that I am not able
to converse with the world-eject is merely a negative fact, and should
not be allowed to tell against any probability (otherwise derived) in
favour of psychism as belonging to that eject. There may be a thousand
very good reasons why I should be precluded from such converse--some of
which, indeed, I can myself very clearly perceive.
The importance of Monism in thus enabling us rationally to contemplate
all processes of physical causation as possibly immediate exhibitions
of psychism, is difficult to overrate. For it entirely discharges all
distinction between the mechanical and the mental; so that if physical
science were sufficiently advanced to yield a full natural explanation
of all the phenomena within human experience, mankind would be in a
position to gain as complete a knowledge as is theoretically possible of
the psychological character of the world-eject. Already we are able to
perceive the immense significance of being able to regard any sequence
of natural causation as the merely phenomenal aspect of the ontological
reality--the merely outward manifestation of an inward meaning. Thus,
for example, I am listening to a sonata of Beethoven's played by Madame
Schumann. Helmholtz tells me all that he knows about the physics and
physiology of the process, both beyond and within my brain. But I feel
that, even if Helmholtz were able to tell me very much more than he can,
so long as he is dealing with these objective explanations, he is at
work only upon the outer skin of the whole matter. The great reality is
the mind of Beethoven communicating to my mind through the complex
intervention of three different brains with their neuro-muscular
systems, and an endless variety of aerial vibrations proceeding from a
pianoforte. The method of communication has nothing more to do with the
reality communicated than have the paper and ink of this essay to do
with the ideas which they serve to convey. In each case a vehicle of
symbols is necessary in order that one mind should communicate with
another; but in both cases this is a vehicle of _symbols_, and nothing
more. Everywhere, therefore, the reality may be psychical, and the
physical symbolic; everywhere matter in motion may be the outward and
visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace.
Take again the case of morality and religion. Because science, by its
theory of evolution, appears to be in a fair way of explaining the
genesis of these things by natural causes, theists are taking alarm; it
is felt by them that if morality can be fully explained by utility, and
religion by superstition, the reality of both is destroyed. But Monism
teaches that such a view is entirely erroneous. For, according to
Monism, the natural causation of morality and religion has nothing
whatever to do with the ultimate truth of either. The natural causation
is merely a record of physical processes, serving to manifest the
psychical processes. Nor can it make any difference, as regards the
ultimate veracity of the moral and religious feelings, that they have
been developed slowly by natural causes; that they were at first grossly
selfish on the one hand, and hideously superstitious on the other; that
they afterwards went through a long series of changes, none of which
therefore can have fully corresponded with external truth; or that even
now they may be both extremely far from any such correspondence. All
that such considerations go to prove is, that it belongs to the natural
method of mental evolution in man that with advancing culture his
ejective interpretations of Nature should more and more nearly
_approximate_ the truth. The world-eject must necessarily vary with the
character of the human subject; but this does not prove that the
ejective interpretation has throughout been wrong in _method_: it only
proves that such interpretation has been imperfect--and necessarily
imperfect--in _application_.
Such, then, I conceive to be one of the most important consequences of
the monistic theory. Namely, that by regarding physical causation as
everywhere but the objective or phenomenal aspect of an ejective or
ontological reality, it furnishes a logical basis for a theory of things
which is at the same time natural and spiritual. On the objective
aspect, the explanations furnished by reason are of necessity physical,
while, on the ejective aspect, such explanations are of necessity
metaphysical--or rather, let us say, hyper-physical. But these two
orders of explanation are different only because their modes of
interpreting the same events are different. The objective explanation
which was given (as we supposed) by Helmholtz of the effects produced on
the human brain by hearing a sonata, was no doubt perfectly sound within
its own category; but the ejective explanation of these same effects
which is given by a musician is equally sound within _its_ category. And
similarly, if instead of the man-object we contemplate the world-object
physical causation becomes but the phenomenal aspect of psychical
causation; the invariability of its sequence becomes but the expression
of intentional order; the iron rigidity of natural law becomes the
sensuous manifestation of an unalterable consistency as belonging to the
Supreme Volition.
My object in this paper has been to show that the views of the late
Professor Clifford concerning the influence of Monism on Theism are
unsound. I am in full agreement with him in believing that Monism is
destined to become the generally accepted theory of things, seeing that
it is the only theory of things which can receive the sanction of
science on the one hand and of feeling on the other. But I disagree with
him in holding that this theory is fraught with implications of an
anti-theistic kind. In my opinion this theory leaves the question of
Theism very much where it was before. That is to say, while not
furnishing any independent proof of Theism, it likewise fails to furnish
any independent disproof. The reason why in Clifford's hands this theory
appeared to furnish independent disproof, was because he persisted in
regarding the world only as an object: he did not entertain the
possibility that the world might also be regarded as an eject. Yet, that
the world, under the theory of Monism, is at least as susceptible of an
ejective as it is of an objective interpretation, I trust that I have
now been able to show. And this is all that I have endeavoured to show.
As a matter of methodical reasoning it appears to me that Monism alone
can only lead to Agnosticism. That is to say, it leaves a clear field of
choice as between Theism and Atheism; and, therefore, to a carefully
reasoning Monist, there are three alternatives open. He may remain a
Monist, and nothing more; in which case he is an agnostic. He may
entertain what appears to him independent evidence in favour of Theism,
and thus he may become a theist. Or he may entertain what appears to him
independent evidence in favour of Atheism, and thus he may become an
atheist. But, in any case, so far as his Monism can carry him, he is
left perfectly free either to regard the world as an object alone, or to
regard the world as also an eject[12].
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 9: If we imagine the visible sidereal system compressed within
the limits of a human skull, so that all its movements which we now
recognize as molar should become molecular, the complexity of such
movement would probably be as great as that which takes place in a human
brain. Yet to this must be added all the molecular movements which are
now going on in the sidereal system, visible and invisible.]
[Footnote 10: _Principles of Psychology_, vol. i. pp. 159-61; _Essays_,
vol. iii. pp. 246-9; and _First Principles_, p. 26.]
[Footnote 11: It is, however, the belief of all religious persons that
even this distinction does not hold. If they are right in their belief,
the distinction would then become one as to the mode of converse. In
this case what is called communion with the Supreme Mind must be
supposed to be a communion _sui generis_: the converse of mind with mind
is here _direct_, or does not require to be translated into the language
of mechanical signs: it is subjective, not ejective. Still, even here we
must believe that the physical aspect accompanies the psychical,
although not necessarily observed. An act of prayer, for example, is, on
its physical aspect, an act of cerebration: so is the answer (supposing
it genuine), in as far as the worshipper is concerned. Thus prayer and
its answer (according to Monism) resemble all the other processes of
Nature in presenting an objective side of strictly physical causation.
Nor is it possible that the case could be otherwise, if _all_ mental
processes consist in physical process, and vice versa. It is obvious
that this consideration has important bearings on the question as to the
physical efficacy of prayer. From a monistic point of view both those
who affirm and those who deny such efficacy are equally in the right,
and equally in the wrong; they are merely quarrelling upon different
sides of the same shield. For, according to Monism, if the theologians
are right in supposing that the Supreme Mind is the hearer of prayer in
any case, they are also right in supposing that the Mind must
necessarily be able to grant what is called physical answers, seeing
that in order to grant _any_ answer (even of the most apparently
spiritual kind) some physical change must be produced, if it be only in
the brain of the petitioner. On the other hand, the scientists are
equally right in maintaining that no physical answer to prayer can be of
the nature of a miracle, or produced independently of strictly physical
causation; for, if so, the physical and the psychical would no longer be
coincident. But, until the scientists are able to perform the hopeless
task of proving where the possibilities of physical causation end, as a
mere matter of abstract speculation and going upon the theory of Monism,
it is evident that the theologians may have any latitude they choose to
claim, both as regards this matter and that of so-called miracles.]
[Footnote 12: It may be explained that by Agnosticism I understand a
theory of things which abstains from either affirming or denying the
existence of God. It thus represents, with regard to Theism, a state of
suspended judgement; and all it undertakes to affirm is, that, upon
existing evidence, the being of God is unknown. But the term Agnosticism
is frequently used in a widely different sense, as implying belief that
the being of God is not merely now unknown, but must always remain
unknowable. It is therefore often represented that Mr. Herbert Spencer,
in virtue of his doctrine of the Unknowable, is a kind of apostle of
Agnosticism. This, however, I conceive to be a great mistake. The
distinctive features of Mr. Spencer's doctrine of the Unknowable are not
merely non-agnostic, but anti-agnostic. For the doctrine affirms that we
have this much knowledge of God--namely, that if He exists, He must for
ever be unknown. Without question, this would be a most important piece
of definite knowledge with regard to Deity, negative though it be; and,
therefore, any man who holds it has no right to be called an agnostic.
To me it has always seemed that the doctrine of the Unknowable, in so
far as it differs from the doctrine of the Unknown, is highly
unphilosophical. By what right can it be affirmed that Deity, if He
exists, may not reveal the fact of His existence to-morrow--and this to
the whole human race without the possibility of doubt? Or, if there be a
God, who is to say that there certainly cannot be a future life, in
which each individual man may have unquestionable proof of Theism? It is
a perfectly philosophical statement for any one to make that, as matters
now stand, he can see no evidence of Theism; but to say that he knows
the human race never can have such evidence, is a most unphilosophical
statement, seeing that it could only be justified by absolute knowledge.
And, on this account, I say that the doctrine of the Unknowable, in so
far as it differs from the doctrine of the Unknown, is the very reverse
of agnostic.
Now, the theory of Monism alone, as observed in the text, appears to be
purely agnostic in the sense just explained. If in some parts of the
foregoing essay I appear to have been arguing in favour of theistic
implications, this has only been in order to show (as against Clifford)
that the world does admit of being regarded as an eject. But inasmuch
as--religious faith apart--we are not able to verify any such ejective
interpretation, we are not able to estimate its value. Monism sanctions
the shading of _x_ as deeply as we choose; but the shading which it
sanctions is only provisional.]