notice. It is this. "But if we admit that there can be some thing
uncaused, there is no reason to assume a cause for anything." This
"assumes" the truth of a major premise all _things_ are substantially
alike. If the word "thing" is restricted to its exact limits,--objects
of sense,--then the sentence pertains wholly to the Sense and
Understanding, and is true. But if, as it would seem, the implication is
meant that there are no other entities which can be object to the mind
except such "things," then it is a clear _petitio principii_. For the
very question at issue is, whether, in fact, there is not one
entity--"thing"--which so differs in kind from all others, that it is
uncaused, _i. e._ self-existent; and whether the admission that that
entity is uncaused does not, because of this seen difference, satisfy
the mind, and furnish a reasonable ground on which to account for the
subordinate causes which we observe by the Sense.
In speaking of the First Cause as "independent," he says, "but it can
have no necessary relation within itself. There can be nothing in it
which determines change, and yet nothing which prevents change. For if
it contains something which imposes such necessities or restraints, this
something must be a cause higher than the First Cause, which is absurd.
Thus, the First Cause must be in every sense perfect, complete, total,
including within itself all power, and transcending all law." We cannot
criticize this better, and mark how curiously truth and error are mixed
in it, than by so parodying it that only truth shall be stated. The
First Cause possesses within himself all possible relations as belonging
to his necessary ideals. Hence, change, in the exact sense of that term,
is impossible to him, for there is nothing for him to _change to_. This
is not invalidated by his passing from inaction to action; for creation
involves no change in God's nature or attributes, and so no real or
essential change, which is here meant. But he is the permanent, through
whom all changes become. He is not, then, a _simple_ unit, but is an
organized Being, who is ground for, and comprehends in a unity, all
possible laws, forms, and relations, as necessary elements of his
necessary existence,--as endowments which necessarily belong to him, and
are conditional of his pure independence. Hence, these restraints are
not "imposed" upon him, except as his existence is imposed upon him.
They belong to his Self, and are conditional of his being. So, then,
instead of "transcending all law," he is the embodiment of all law; and
his perfection is, that possessing this endowment, he accords his
conduct thereto. A being who should "transcend all law" would have no
reason why he should act, and no form how he should act, neither would
he be an organism, but would be pure lawlessness or pure chaos. Pure
chaos cannot organize order; pure lawlessness cannot establish law; and
so could not be the First Cause. As Mr. Spencer truly says, "we have no
alternative but to regard this First Cause as Infinite and Absolute."
And now having learned, by a true diagnosis of the mental activities,
that the positions we have gained are fixed, final, irrevocable; and
further, that they are not the "results" of "reasonings," but that first
there was a seeing, and then an analysis of what was seen, and that the
seeing is _true_, though every other experience be false; we _know_ that
our position is not "illusive," but that we stand on the rock; and that
what we have seen is no "symbolic conception of the illegitimate order,"
but is pure truth.
For the further consideration of this subject, the reader is referred
back to our remarks on that passage in Mr. Mansel's work, which Mr.
Spencer has quoted.
A few remarks upon his summing up, p. 43 _et seq._, will complete the
review of this chapter. "Passing over the consideration of credibility,
and confining ourselves to that of" consistency, we would find in any
rigorous analysis, that Atheism and Pantheism are self-contradictory;
but we _have found_ that Theism, "when rigorously analyzed," presents an
absolutely consistent system, in which all the difficulties of the
Understanding are explained to the person by the Reason, and is entirely
thinkable. Such a system, based upon the necessary convictions of man,
and justly commanding that these shall be the fixed standard, in
accordance with which all doubts and queries shall be dissolved and
decided, gives a rational satisfaction to man, and discloses to him his
eternal REST.
In proceeding to his final fact, which he derives as the permanent in
all religions, Mr. Spencer overlooks another equally permanent, equally
common, and incomparably more important fact, viz: that Fetishism,
Polytheism, Pantheism, and Monotheism,--all religions alike assert _that
a god created the Universe_. In other words, the great common element,
in all the popular modes of accounting for the vast system of things in
which we live is, _that it is the product of an agency external to
itself, and that the external agency is personal_. Take the case of the
rude aboriginal, who "assumes a separate personality behind every
phenomenon." He does not attempt to account for all objects. His mind is
too infantile, and he is too degraded to suspect that those material
objects which appear permanent need to be accounted for. It is only the
changes which seem to him to need a reason. Behind each change he
imagines a sort of personal power, superior to it and man, which
produces it, and this satisfies him. He inquires no further; yet he
looks in the same direction as the Monotheist. In this crude form of
belief, which is named Fetishism, we see that essential idea which can
be readily traced through all forms of religion, that some _personal_
being, external, and superior to the things that be, produced them. Nor
is Atheism a proper exception to this law. For Atheism is not a
religion, but the denial of all religion. It is not a doctrine of God,
but is a denial that there is any God; and what is most in point, it
never was a _popular_ belief, but is only a philosophical Sahara over
which a few caravans of speculative doubters and negatists wander.
Neither can Hindu pantheism be quoted against the position taken: for
Brahm is not the Universe; neither are Brahma, Vishnu, and Siva. Brahm
does not lose his individuality because the Universe is evolved from
him. _Now_ he is thought of as one, and the Universe as another,
although the Universe is thought to be a part of his essence, and
hereafter to be reabsorbed by him. _Now_, this part of his essence which
was _produced_ through Brahma, Vishnu, and Siva, is _individualized_;
and so is one, while he is another. Thus, here also, the idea of a
proper external agency is preserved. The facts, then, are decisively in
favor of the proposition above laid down. "_Our_ investigation"
discloses "a fundamental verity in each religion." And the facts and the
verity find no consistent ground except in a pure Theism, and there they
do find perfect consistency and harmony.
It is required, finally, in closing the discussion of this chapter, to
account for the fact that, upon a single idea so many theories of God
have fastened themselves; or better, perhaps, that a single idea has
developed itself in so many forms. This cannot better be done than in
the language of that metaphysician, not second to Plato, the apostle
Paul. In his Epistle to the Romans, beginning at the 19th verse of the
1st chapter, he says: "Because that which may be known of God is
manifest to them; for God hath shewed it unto them. For the invisible
things of him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being
understood by the things which are made, even his eternal power and
Godhead, so that they are without excuse. Because that, when they knew
God, they glorified him not as God, neither were thankful; but became
vain in their imaginations, and their foolish heart was darkened:
professing themselves to be wise they became fools, and changed the
glory of the incorruptible God into an image made like to corruptible
man, and to birds, and four-footed beasts, and creeping things." This
passage, which would be worthy the admiring study of ages, did it
possess no claim to be the teaching of that Being whom Mr. Spencer
asserts it is _impossible for us to know_, gives us in a popular form
the truth. Man, having organic in his mind the idea of God, and having
in the Universe an ample manifestation to the Sense, of the eternal
power and Godhead of the Creator of that Universe, corresponding to that
idea, perverted the manifestation to the Sense, and degraded the idea in
the Reason, to the service of base passion. By this degradation and
perversion the organic idea became so bedizened with the finery of
fancy formed in the Understanding, under the direction of the animal
nature, as to be lost to the popular mind,--the trappings only being
seen. When once the truth was thus lost sight of, and with it all that
restraint which a knowledge of the true God would impose, men became
vain in their imaginations; their fancy ran riot in all directions.
Cutting loose from all law, they plunged into every excess which could
be invented; and out of such a stimulated and teeming brain all manner
of vagaries were devised. This was the first stage; and of it we find
some historic hints in the biblical account of the times, during and
previous to the life of Abraham. Where secular history begins the human
race had passed into the second stage. Crystallization had begun.
Students were commencing the search for truth. Religion was taking upon
itself more distinct forms. The organic idea, which could not be wholly
obliterated, formed itself distinctly in the consciousness of some
gifted individuals, and philosophy began. Philosophy in its purest form,
as taught by Socrates and Plato, presented again the lost idea of pure
Theism. But the spirituality which enabled them to see the truth, lifted
them so far above the common people, that they could affect only a few.
And what was most disheartening, that same degradation which originally
lost to man the truth, now prevented him from receiving it. Thus it was
that by a binding of the Reason to the wheels of Passion, and discursing
through the world with the Understanding at the beck of the Sense, the
many forms of religion became.
"ULTIMATE SCIENTIFIC IDEAS."
On a former page we have already attempted a positive answer to the
question, "What are Space and Time," with which Mr. Spencer opens this
chapter. It was there found that, in general terms, they are _a priori_
conditions of created being; and, moreover, that they possess
characteristics suitable to what they condition, just as the _a priori_
conditions of the spiritual person possess characteristics suitable to
what they condition. It was further found that this general law is, from
the necessity of the case, realized both within the mind and without it;
that it is, must be, the form of thought for the perceiving subject,
corresponding to the condition of existence for the perceived object. It
also appeared that the Universe as object, and the Sense and
Understanding as faculties in the subject, thus corresponded; and
further, that these faculties could never transcend and comprehend Space
and Time, because these were the very conditions of their being;
moreover, that by them all spaces and times must be considered with
reference to the Universe, and apart from it could not be examined by
them at all. Yet it was further found that the Universe might in the
presence of the Reason be abstracted; and that, then, pure Space and
Time still remained as pure _a priori_ conditions, the one as _room_,
the other as _opportunity_, for the coming of created being. Space and
Time being such conditions, _and nothing more_, are entities only in the
same sense that the multiplication table and the moral law are entities.
They are _conditions_ suited to what they condition. In the light of
this result let us examine Mr. Spencer's teachings respecting them.
Strictly speaking, Space and Time do not "exist." If they exist (ex
sto), they must stand out somewhere and when. This of course involves
the being of a where and a when in which they can stand out; and that
where and when must needs be accounted for, and so on _ad infinitum_.
Again, Mr. Spencer would seem to speak, in his usual style, as if they,
in existing "objectively," had a _formal_ objective existence. Yet this,
in the very statement of it, appears absurd. The mind apprehends many
objects, which do not "exist." They only are. Thus, as has just been
said, Space and Time, as conditions of created being, _are_. They are
entities but not existences. They are _a priori_ entities, and so are
_necessarily_. By this they stand in the same category with all pure
laws, all first principles.
"Moreover, to deny that Space and Time are things, and so by implication
to call them nothings, involves the absurdity that there are two kinds
of nothings." This sentence "involves the absurdity" of assuming that
"nothing" is an entity. If I say that Space is nothing, I say that it
presents no content for a concept, and cannot, because there is no
content to be presented. It is then _blank_. Just so of Time. As
nothings they are, then, both equally blank, and destitute of meaning.
Now if Mr. Spencer wishes to hold that nothing represented by one word,
differs from nothing represented by another, we would not lay a straw in
his way, but yet would be much surprised if he led a large company.
Again, having decided that they are neither "nonentities nor the
attributes of entities, we have no choice but to consider them as
entities." But he then goes on to speak of them as "things," evidently
using the word in the same sense as if applying it to a material object,
as an apple or stone; thereby implying that entity and thing in that
sense are synonymous terms. Upon this leap in the dark, this blunder in
the use of language, he proceeds to build up a mountain of difficulties.
But once take away this foundation, once cease attempting "to represent
them in thought as things," and his difficulties vanish. Space is a
condition. Perhaps receptivity, indivisibility, and illimitability are
attributes. If so, it has attributes, for these certainly belong to it.
But whether these shall be called attributes or not, it is certain that
Space is, is a pure condition, is thus a positive object to the Reason,
is qualified by the characteristics named above; and all this without
any contradiction or other insuperable difficulty arising thereby. On
the ground now established, we learn that extension and Space are _not_
"convertible terms." Extension is an attribute of matter. Space is a
condition of phenomena. It is only all _physical_ "entities which we
actually know as such" that "are limited." From our standpoint, that
Space is _no_ thing, such remarks as "We find ourselves totally unable
to form any mental image of unbounded Space," appear painfully absurd.
"We find ourselves" just as "totally unable to form any mental image of
unbounded" love. Such phrases as "mental image" have _no relevancy_ to
either Space or Time. In criticizing Kant's doctrine, which we have
found _true_ as far as it goes, Mr. Spencer evinces a surprising lack of
knowledge of the facts in question. "In the first place," he says, "to
assert that Space and Time, as we are conscious of them, are subjective
conditions, is by implication to assert that they are not objective
realities." But the conclusion does not follow. If the reader will take
the trouble to construct the syllogism on which this is based, he will
at once perceive the absurdity of the logic. It may be said in general
that all conditions of a thinking being are both subjective and
objective: they are conditions of his being--subjective; and they are
objects of his examination and cognizance--objective. Is not the
multiplication table an objective reality, _i. e._, would it not remain
if he be destroyed? And yet is it not also a subjective law; and so was
it not originally discovered by introspection and reflection? Again he
says, "for that consciousness of Space and Time which we cannot rid
ourselves of, is the consciousness of them as existing objectively." Now
the fact is, that primarily we do not have _any_ consciousness of Space
and Time. _Consciousness has to do with phenomena._ When examining the
material Universe, the _objects_, and the objects as at a distance from
each other and as during, are what we are conscious of. For instance, I
view the planets Jupiter and Saturn. They appear as objects in my
consciousness. There is a distance between them; but this distance _is_
not, except as they _are_. If they are not, the word distance has no
meaning with reference to them. Take them away, and I have no
consciousness of distance as remaining. These planets continue in
existence. They endure. This endurance we call time, but if they should
cease, one could not think of endurance in connection with them as
remaining. Here we most freely and willingly agree with Mr. Spencer that
"the question is, What does consciousness directly testify?" but he will
find that consciousness on this side of the water testifies very
differently from his consciousness: as for instance in the two articles
in the "North American Review," heretofore alluded to. Here, "the direct
testimony of consciousness is," that spaces and times within the
Universe are without the mind; that Space and Time, as _a priori_
conditions for the possibility of formal object and during event, are
also without the mind; but the "testimony" is none the less clear and
"direct" that Space and Time are laws of thought in the mind
corresponding to the actualities without the mind. And the question may
be asked, it is believed with great force, If this last were not so, how
could the mind take any cognizance of the actuality? Again, most truly,
Space and Time "cannot be conceived to become non-existent even were the
mind to become non-existent." Much more strongly than this should the
truth be uttered. They could not become non-existent if the Universe
with every sentient being, yea, even--to make an impossible
supposition--if the Deity himself, should cease to be. In this they
differ no whit from the laws of Mathematics, of Logic, and of Morals.
These too would remain as well. Thus is again enforced the truth, which
has been stated heretofore, that Space and Time, as _a priori_
conditions of the Universe, stand in precisely the same relation to
material object and during event that the multiplication table does to
intellect, or the moral law to a spiritual person. It will now be
doubtless plain that Mr. Spencer's remarks sprang directly from the
lower faculties. The Sense in its very organization possesses Space and
Time as void forms into which objects may come. So also the
Understanding possesses the notional as connecting into a totality.
These faculties cannot be in a living man without acting. Activity is
their law. Hence images are ever arising and _must_ arise in the Sense,
and be connected in the Understanding, and all this in the forms and
conditions of Space and Time. He who thinks continually in these
conditions will always _imagine_ that Space and Time are only without
him--because he will be thinking only in the iron prison-house of the
imagining faculty--and so cannot transcend the conditions it imposes.
Now how shall one see these conditions? They do "exist objectively"; or,
to phrase it better, they have a true being independent of our minds. In
this sense, as we have seen, every _a priori_ condition must be
objective to the mind. What is objective to the Sense is not Space but a
space, _i. e._ a part of Space limited by matter; and, after all, it is
the boundaries which are the true object rather than the space, which
cannot be "conceived" of if the boundaries be removed. Without further
argument, is it not evident that there Space, like all other _a priori_
conditions, is object only to the Reason, and that as a condition of
material existence?
At the bottom of page 49 we have another of Mr. Spencer's psychological
errors:--"For if Space and Time are forms of thought, they can never be
thought of; since it is impossible for anything to be at once the _form_
of thought and the matter of thought." Although this topic has been
amply discussed elsewhere, it may not be uninstructive to recur to it
again. Exactly the opposite of Mr. Spencer's remark is the truth. The
question at issue here is one of those profound and subtile ones which
cannot be approached by argument, but can be decided only by a _seeing_.
It is a psychological question pertaining to the profoundest depths of
our being. If one says, "I see the forms of thought," and another, "I
cannot see them," neither impeaches the other. All that is left is to
stimulate the dull faculty of the one until he can see. The following
reflections may help us to see. Mr. Spencer's remark implies that we
have no higher faculty than the Sense and the Understanding. It implies,
also, that we can never have any _self_-knowledge, in the fundamental
signification of that phrase. We can observe the conduct of the mind,
and study and classify the results; but the laws, the constitution of
the activity itself must forever remain closed to us. As was said, when
speaking of this subject under a different phase, the eye cannot see and
study itself. It is a mechanical organism, capable only of reaction as
acted upon, capable only of seeing results, but never able to penetrate
to the hidden springs which underlie the event. Just so is it with the
Sense and Understanding. They are mere mechanical faculties capable of
acting as they are acted upon, but never able to go behind the
appearance to its final source. On such a hypothesis as this all science
is impossible, but most of all a science of the human mind. If man is
enclosed by such walls, no knowledge of his central self can be gained.
He may know what he _does_; but what he _is_, is as inscrutable to him
as what God is. As such a being, he is only a higher order of brute. He
has some dim perceptions, some vague feelings, but he has no
_knowledge_; he is _sure_ of nothing. He can reach no ground which is
ultimate, no _Rock_ which he knows is _immutable_. Is man such a being?
The longings and aspirations of the ages roll back an unceasing NO! He
is capable of placing himself before himself, of analyzing that self to
the very groundwork of his being. All the laws of his constitution, all
the forms of his activity, he can clearly and amply place before himself
and know them. And how is this? It is because God has endowed him with
an EYE like unto His own, which enables man to be self-comprehending, as
He is self-comprehending,--the Reason, with which man may read himself
as a child reads a book; that man can make "the _form_ of thought the
_matter_ of thought." True, the Understanding is shut out from any
consideration of the forms of thought; but man is not simply or mainly
an Understanding. He is, in his highest being, a spiritual person, whom
God has endowed with the faculty of VISION; and the great organic evil,
which the fall wrought into the world, was this very denial of the
spiritual light, and this crowding down and out of sight, of the
spiritual person beneath the animal nature, this denial of the essential
faculties of such person, and this elevation of the lower faculties of
the animal nature, the Sense and Understanding, into the highest place,
which is involved in all such teachings as we are criticizing.
Mr. Spencer's remarks upon "Matter" are no nearer the truth. In almost
his first sentence there is a grievous logical _faux pas_. He says:
"Matter is either infinitely divisible or it is not; no third
possibility can be named." Yet we will name one, as follows: _The
divisibility of matter has no relation to infinity_. And this _third_
supposition happens to be the truth. But it will be said that the
question should be stated thus: Either there is a limit to the
divisibility of matter, or there is no limit. This statement is
exhaustive, because limitation belongs to matter. Of these alternatives
there can be no hesitation which one to choose. There is a limit to the
divisibility of matter. This answer cannot be given by the physical
sense; for no one questions but what it is incapable of finding a limit.
The mental sense could not give it, because it is a question of actual
substance and not of ideal forms. The Reason gives the answer. Matter is
limited at both extremes. Its amount is definite, as are its final
elements. These "ultimate parts" have "an under and an upper surface, a
right and a left side." When, then, one of these parts shall be broken,
what results? Not _pieces_, as the materialist, thinking only in the
Sense, would have us believe. When a final "part" shall be broken, there
will remain _no matter_,--to the sense nothing. To it, the result would
be annihilation. But the Reason declares that there would be left _God's
power_ in its simplicity,--that final Unit out of which all diversity
becomes.
The subsequent difficulties raised respecting the solidity of Matter may
be explained thus. And for convenience sake, we will limit the term
Matter to such substances as are object to the physical sense, like
granite, while Force shall be used to comprise those finer substances,
like the Ether, which are impalpable to the physical sense. Matter is
composed of very minute ultimate particles which do not touch, but which
are held together by Force. The space between the atoms, which would
otherwise be _in vacuo_, is _full_ of Force. We might be more exhaustive
in our analysis, and say--which would be true--that a space-filling
force composes the Universe; and that Matter is only Force in one of its
modifications. But without this the other statement is sufficient. When,
then, a portion of matter is compressed, the force which holds the
ultimate particles in their places is overcome by an external force, and
these particles are brought nearer together. Now, how is it with the
moving body and the collision? Bisect a line and see the truth.
C
A--------B
1
A body with a mass of 4 is moving with a velocity of 4 along the line
from A to B. At C it meets another body with a mass of 4 at rest. From
thence the two move on towards B with a velocity of 2. What has
happened? In the body there was a certain amount of force, which set it
in motion and kept it in motion. And just here let us make a point. _No
force is ever lost or destroyed. It is only transferred._ When a bullet
is fired from a gun, it possesses at one _point_ a maximum of force.
From that point this force is steadily _transferred_ to the air and
other substances, until all that it received from the powder is spent.
But at any one point in its flight, the sum of the force which has been
transferred since the maximum, and of the force yet to be transferred,
will always equal the maximum. Now, how is it respecting the question
raised by Mr. Spencer? The instant of contact is a point in time, _not a
period_, and the transfer of force is instantaneous. C, then, is a
_point_, not a period, and the velocity on the one side is 4 and the
other side 2, while the momentum or force is exactly equal throughout
the line. If it is said that this proves that a body can pass from one
velocity to another without passing through the intermediate velocities,
we cannot help it. The above are the facts, and they give the truth. The
following sentence of Mr. Spencer is, at least, careless. "For when, of
two such units, one moving at velocity 4 strikes another at rest, the
striking unit must have its velocity 4 instantaneously reduced to
velocity 2; must pass from velocity 4 to velocity 2 without any lapse of
time, and without passing through intermediate velocities; must be
moving with velocities 4 and 2 at the same instant, which is
impossible." If there is any sense in the remark, "instantaneously" must
mean a _point_ of time _without period_. For, if any period is allowed,
the sentence has no meaning, since during that period "the striking
unit" passes through all "intermediate velocities." But if by
instantaneously he means _without period_, then the last clause of the
sentence is illogical, since instant there evidently means a period. For
if it means point, then it contradicts the first clause. There, it is
asserted that 4 was "_reduced_" to 2, _i. e._ that at one point the
velocity was 4, and at the next point it was 2, and that there was _no
time_ between. If 4 was instantaneously reduced to 2, then the velocity
2 was next after the velocity 4, and not coeval with it. Thus it appears
that these two clauses which were meant to be synonymous are
contradictory.
Bearing in mind what we have heretofore learned respecting atoms, we
shall not be troubled by the objections to the Newtonian theory which
follow. In reply to the question, "What is the constitution of these
units?" the answer, "We have no alternative but to regard each of them
as a small piece of matter," would be true if the Sense was the only
faculty which could examine them. But even upon this theory Mr.
Spencer's remarks "respecting the parts of which each atom consists,"
are entirely out of place; for the hypothesis that it is an ultimate
atom excludes the supposition of "parts," since that phrase has no
meaning except it refers to a final, indivisible, material unit. All
that the Sense could say, would be, "What this atom is I know not, but
that it is, and _is not divisible_, I believe." But when we see by the
Reason that the ultimate atom, when dissolved, becomes God's power, all
difficulty in the question vanishes. Having thus answered the above
objections, it is unnecessary to notice the similar ones raised against
Boscovich's theory, which is a modification of that of Newton.
Mr. Spencer next examines certain phenomena of motion. The fact that he
seeks for absolute motion by the _physical sense_, a faculty which was
only given us to perceive relative--phenomenal--motion, and is, _in its
kind_, incapable of finding the absolute motion, (for if it should see
it, it could not _know_ it,) is sufficient to condemn all that he has
said on this subject. For the presentations which he has made of the
phenomena given us by the Sense does not exhaust the subject. The
perplexities therein developed are all resolvable, as will appear
further on. The phenomena adduced on page 55 are, then, merely
_appearances_ in the physical sense; and the motion is merely relative.
In the first instance, the captain walks East with reference to the ship
and globe. In the second, he walks East with reference to the ship; the
ship sails West with reference to the globe; while the resultant motion
is, that he is _stationary_ with reference to this larger object. What,
then, can the Sense give us? Only resultant motion, at the most. So we
see that "our ideas of Motion" are not "illusive," but _deficient_. The
motion is just what it appears, measured from a given object. It is
_relative_, and this is all the Sense _can_ give. Our author
acknowledges that "we tacitly assume that there are real motions"; that
"we take for granted that there are fixed points in space, with respect
to which all motions are absolute; and we find it impossible to rid
ourselves of this idea." A question instantly arises, and it seems to be
one which he is bound to entertain, viz: How comes this idea to be? We
press this question upon Mr. Spencer, being persuaded that he will find
it much more perplexing than those he has entertained. Undoubtedly,
"absolute motion cannot even be imagined." _No_ motion can be imagined,
though the moving body may be. But by no means does it follow, "much
less known." This involves that the knowing faculty is inferior to, and
more circumscribed than, the imagining faculty, when the very opposite
is the fact. Neither does it follow from what is said in the paragraph
beginning with, "For motion is change of place," that "while we are
obliged to think that there is absolute motion, we find absolute motion
incomprehensible." The Universe is limited and bounded, and is a sphere.
We _may_ assume that the centre of the sphere is at rest. Instantly
absolute motion becomes comprehensible, for it is motion measured from
that point. Surely there can be no harm in the _supposition_. The Reason
shows us that the supposition is the truth; and that that centre is the
throne of the eternal God. In this view not only is motion, apart from
the "limitations of space," totally unthinkable, but it is absolutely
impossible. Motion _cannot_ be, except as a formal body is. Hence, to
speak of motion in "unlimited space" is simply absurd. Formal object
_cannot_ be, except as _thereby_ a limit is established in Space. Hence
it is evident that "absolute motion" is not motion with reference to
"unlimited Space," which would be the same as motion without a moving;
but is motion with reference to that point fixed in Space, around which
all things revolve, but which is itself at perfect rest.
"Another insuperable difficulty presents itself, when we contemplate the
transfer of Motion." Motion is simply the moving of a body, and _cannot
be transferred_. The _force_ which causes the motion is what is
transferred. All that can be said of motion is, that it is, that it
increases, that it diminishes, that it ceases. If the moving body
impinges upon another moving body, and causes it to move, it is not
motion that is transferred, but the force which causes the motion. The
motion in the impinging body is diminished, and a new motion is begun in
the body which was at rest. Again it is asked: "In what respect does a
body after impact differ from itself before impact?" And further on:
"The motion you say has been communicated. But how? What has been
communicated? The striking body has not transferred a _thing_ to the
body struck; and it is equally out of the question to say that it has
transferred an _attribute_." Observe now that a somewhat is
unquestionably communicated; and the question is:--What is it? Query.
Does Mr Spencer mean to comprehend the Universe in "thing" and
"attribute"? He would seem to. If he does, he gives a decision by
assertion without explanation or proof, which involves the very question
at issue, which is, Is the somewhat transferred a "thing" or an
"attribute"; and a decision directly contrary to the acknowledgment that
a somewhat has been communicated? On the above-named hypothesis his
statement should be as follows: A somewhat has been communicated.
"Thing" and "attribute" comprise all the Universe. Neither a thing, nor
an attribute has been communicated, _i. e._ no somewhat has been
communicated; which contradicts the evidence and the acknowledgment. If
on the other hand Mr. Spencer means that "thing" and "attribute"
comprise only a part of the Universe, then the question is not fairly
met. It may be more convenient for the moment to conclude the Universe
in the two terms thing and attribute; and then, as attribute is
essential to the object it qualifies, and so cannot be communicated, it
will follow that a thing has been communicated. This thing we call
force. It is not in hand now to inquire what force is. It is manifest to
the Sense that the body is in a different state after impact, than it
was before. Something has been put into the body, which, though not
directly appreciable to the Sense, is indirectly appreciable by the
results, and which is as real an addition as water is to a bowl, when
poured in. Before the impact the body was destitute of that kind of
force--motor force would be a convenient term--which tended to move it.
After the impact a sufficiency of that force was present to produce the
motion. It may be asked, where does this force go to when the motion
diminishes till the body stops. It passes into the substances which
cause the diminution until there is no surplus in the moving body, and
at the point of equilibrium motion ceases. If it be now asked, where
does this force ultimately go to, it is to be said that it comes from
God, and goes to God, who is the Final. The Sense gives only subordinate
answers, but the Reason leads us to the Supreme.
If the view adopted be true, Mr. Spencer's halving and halving again
"the rate of movement forever," is irrelevant. It is not a _mental
operation_ but an _actual fact_ which is to be accounted for. Take a
striking illustration. A ball lying on smooth ice is struck with a
hockey. Away it goes skimming over the glassy surface with a steadily
diminishing velocity till it ceases. It starts, it proceeds, it stops.
These are the facts; and the mental operation must accord with them.
There is put into the ball, at the instant of contact, a certain amount
of motor force. From that instant onward, that force flows out of the
ball into the resisting substances by which it is surrounded, until none
is left. And it is just as pertinent to ask how all the water can flow
out of a pail, as how all the motor force can flow out of a moving
substance. "The smallest movement is separated" by no more of "an
impassable gap from no movement," _than it is from a larger movement
above it_. That which will account for a movement four becoming two,
will account for a movement two becoming zero. The "puzzle," then, may
be explained thus. Time is the procession of events. Let it be
represented by a line. Take a point in that line, which will then mark
its division but represent _no period_. On one side of that point is
rest; on the other motion. That point is the point of contact, and
occupies no period. At this point the motion is maximum. The force
instantly begins to flow off, and continues in a steady stream until
none is left, and the body is again at rest. Here, also, we take a
point. This is the point of zero. It again divides the line. Before the
bisection is motion; after the bisection is rest. All this cannot be
perceived by the Sense, nor conceived by the Understanding. It is seen
by the Reason. Now observe the actual phenomenon. The ball starts,
proceeds, stops. From maximum to zero there is a steady diminution, or
nearly enough so for the experiment; at least the diminution can be
averaged for the illustration. Then comparing motion with time, the same
difficulty falls upon the one as the other. If the motion is halved, the
time must be; and so, "mentally," it is impossible to imagine how a
moment of time can pass. To the halving faculty--the Sense--this is
true, and so we are compelled to correct our course of procedure. This
it is. The Sense and Understanding being impotent to discover an
absolute unit of any kind, the Sense _assumes_ for itself what meets all
practical want--a standard unit, by which it measures parts in Space and
Time. So motion must be measured by some assumed standard; and as, like
time,--duration,--it can be represented by a line, let them have a
common standard. Suppose, then, that the ball's flight occupies ten
minutes of time. The line from m to z will be divided into ten exactly
equal spaces; and it will be no more difficult to account for the flow
of force from 10 to 9, than from 1 to 0. Also let it be observed that
the force, like time, is a unit, which the Sense, for its convenience,
divides into parts; but that neither those parts, nor any parts, have
any real existence. As Time is an indivisible whole, measured off for
convenience, so any given force is such a whole, and is so measured off.
All this appearing and measuring are phenomenal in the Sense. It is the
Reason which sees that they can be _only_ phenomenal, and that behind
the appearance is pure Spirit--God, who is primarily out of all
relation.
On page 58, near the close of his illustration of the chair, Mr. Spencer
says: "It suffices to remark that since the force as known to us is an
affection of consciousness, we cannot conceive the force as existing in
the chair under the same form without endowing the chair with
consciousness." This very strange assertion can only be true, provided a
major premiss, No force can be conceived to exist without involving an
affection of consciousness in the object in which it _apparently_
inheres, is true. Such a premiss seems worse than absurd; it seems
silly. We cannot learn that force exists, without our consciousness is
affected thereby; but this is a very different thing from our being
unable to conceive of a force as _existing_, without there is a
consciousness in the object through which it _appears_. If Mr. Spencer
had said that no force can be, without being exerted, and no force can
be exerted, without an affection of the consciousness of the exertor, he
would have uttered the truth. We would then have the following result.
Primarily all force is exerted by the Deity; and he is conscious
thereof. He draws the chair down just as really as though the hand were
visible. Secondarily spiritual persons are endowed by their Creator with
the ability to exert his force for their uses, and so I lift the chair.
The great error, which appears on every page of Mr. Spencer's book and
invalidates all his conclusions, shows itself fully here. He presents
images from the Sense, and then tries to satisfy the Reason--the faculty
which calls for an absolute account--by the analyses of that Sense. His
attempt to "halve the rate," his remark that "the smallest movement is
separated by an impassable gap from no movement," and many such, are
only pertinent to the Sense, can never be explained by the Sense, and
are found by the Reason to need, and be capable of, no such kind of
explanation as the Sense attempts; but that the phenomena are
appearances in _wholes_, whose partitions cannot be absolute, and that
these wholes are accounted for by the being of an absolute and infinite
Person--God, who is utterly impalpable to the Sense, and can be known
only by the Reason.
The improper use of the Sense mentioned above, is, if possible, more
emphatically exemplified in the remarks upon "the connection between
Force and Matter." "Our ultimate test of Matter is the ability to
resist." This is true to the Sense, but no farther. "Resist" what? Other
matter, of course. Thus is the sensuousness made manifest. In the Sense,
then, we have a material object. But Force is not object to the Sense
directly, but only indirectly by its effects through Matter. The Sense,
in its percept, deems the force other than the matter. Hence it is
really no more difficult for the Sense to answer the question, How could
the Sun send a force through 95,000,000 of miles of void to the Earth
and hold it, than through solid rock that distance? All that the Sense
_can do_ is to present the phenomena. It is utterly impotent to account
for the least of them.
In the following passage, on page 61, Mr. Spencer seems to have been
unaccountably led astray. He says: "Let the atoms be twice as far apart,
and their attractions and repulsions will both be reduced to one fourth
of their present amounts. Let them be brought within half the distance,
and then attractions and repulsions will both be quadrupled. Whence it
follows that this matter will as readily as not assume any other
density; and can offer no resistance to any external agents." Now if
this be true, there can be no "external agents" to which to offer any
"resistance." It is simply to assert that all force neutralizes itself;
and that matter is impossible. But the conclusion does not "follow." It
is evidently based on the supposition that the "attractions and
repulsions" are _contra_-acting forces which exactly balance each other,
and so the molecules are held in their position by _no_ force. Instead
of this, they are _co_-acting forces, which are wholly expended in
holding the molecules in their places. The repulsions, then, are
expended in resisting pressure from without which seeks to crowd the
particles in upon themselves and thus disturb their equilibrium; while
the attractions are expended in holding the particles down to their
natural distance from each other when any disturbing force attempts to
separate them. Hence, referring to the two cases mentioned, in the first
instance the power of resistance is reduced to one fourth, and this
corresponds with the fact; and in the second instance the power of
resistance is increased fourfold, and this corresponds with the fact.
We thus arrive at the end of Mr. Spencer's remarks concerning the
material Universe and of our strictures thereon. Perhaps the reader's
mind cannot better be satisfied as to the validity of these strictures
than by presenting an outline of the system furnished by the Reason, and
upon which they are based.
The Reason gives, by a direct and immediate intuition, and as a
necessary _a priori_ idea, God. This is a _spontaneous_, synthetical
act, precisely the same in kind with that which gives a simple _a
priori_ principle, as idea. In it the Reason intuits, not a single
principle seen to be necessary simply, but the fact that all possible
principles _must_ be combined in a perfectly harmonious unity, in a
single Being, who thereby possesses all possible endowments; and so is
utterly independent, and is seen to be the absolute and infinite Person,
the perfect Spirit. This act is no conclusion of the One from the many
in a synthetical judgment, but is entirely different. It is the
necessary seeing of the many in the One; and so is not a judgment but an
intuition, not a guess but a certainty. God, then, is known, when known
at all, not "by plurality, difference, and relation," but by an
_immediate_ insight into his unity, and so is directly known as he is.
And the whole Universe is, that creatures might be, to whom this
revelation was possible. Among the other necessary endowments which this
intuition reveals, is that of immanent power commensurate with his
dignity, and adequate to realize in actual creatures the necessary _a
priori_ ideas, which he also possesses as endowments. Power is, then, a
simple idea, incapable of analysis; and which cannot therefore be
defined, except by synonymous terms; and to which President Hopkins's
remark upon moral obligation is equally pertinent; viz: "that we can
only state the occasion on which it arises." From these data the _a
priori_ idea of the Universe may be developed as follows:--
God, the absolute and infinite Person, possesses, as inherent endowment
forever immanent in himself, Universal Genius; which is at once capacity
and faculty, in which he sees, and by which he sees, all possible ideas,
and these in all possible combinations or ideals. Thus has he all
possible knowledge. From the various ideal systems which thus are, he,
having perfect wisdom, and according his choice to the behest of his own
worth, selects that one which is thus seen to be best; and thereby
determines the forms and laws under which the Universe shall become. He
also possesses, as inherent endowment, all power; _i. e._ the ability to
realize every one of his ideals; but _not_ the ability to violate the
natural laws of his being, as to make two and two five. The ideal system
is only ideal: the power is simply power; and so long as the two remain
isolated, no-thing will be. Therefore, in order to the realization of
his ideal, it must be combined with the power; _i. e._, the power must
be organized according to the ideal. How, then, can the power, having
been sent forth from God, be organized? Thus. If the power goes forth in
its simplicity, it will be expended uselessly, because there is no
substance upon which it may be exercised. It follows, then, that, if
exercised at all, it must be exercised upon _itself_. When, therefore,
God would create the Universe, he sent forth two "pencils," or columns
of power, of equal and sufficient volume, which, acting upon each other
from opposite directions, just held each other in balance, and thus
force was. These two "pencils," thus balancing each other, would result
in a sphere of "space-filling force." The point of contact would
determine the first place in Space, and the first point in Time; from
which, if attainable, an absolute measure of each could be made. All we
have now attained is the single duality "space-filling force," which is
wholly homogeneous, is of sufficient volume to constitute the Universe,
and yet by no means _is_ the Universe. There is only Chaos, "without
form and void, and darkness" is "upon the face of the deep." Now must
"the Spirit of God move upon the face of the waters"; then through vast
and to us immeasurable periods of time, through cycle and epicycle, the
work of organization will go on. Ever moving under forms laid down in
the _a priori_ ideal, God's power turns upon itself, as out of the crush
of elemental chaos the Universe is being evolved. During this process,
whatever of the force is to act under the law of heat in the _a priori_
ideal, assumes that form and the heat force becomes; whatever is to act
under the law of magnetism, assumes that form, and magnetic force
becomes; so of light, and the various forms of matter. At length, in the
revolution of the cycles, the Universe attains that degree of
preparation which fits it for living things to be, and the life force is
organized; and by degrees all its various forms are brought forth. After
another vast period that point is reached when an animal may be
organized, which shall be the dwelling-place for a time of a being whose
life is utterly different in kind from any animal life, and man appears.
Now in all these vast processes, be it observed that God is personally
present, that the first energy was his, and that every subsequent
energizing act is his special and personal act. He organized the
duality, force. He then organized this force into heat-force,
light-force, magnetic-force, matter-force, life-force, and soul-force.
And so it is that his personal supervision and energy is actually
present in every atom of the Universe. When we turn from this process of
thought to the sensible facts, and speak of granite, sandstone, schist,
clay, herbage, animals, yes, of the thousand kinds of substance which
appear to the eye, it is to be remembered that all these are but _forms
to the Sense_ of that "reason-conception," force,--that primal duality,
which power acting upon itself becomes. Now as the machine can never
carve any other image than those for which it is specially constructed,
and must work just as it is made to work, so the Sense, which is purely
mechanical, can never do any other than the work for which it was made,
can never transcend the laws of its organization. It can only give
forms--results, but is impotent to go behind them. It can only say _that
things are_, but never say _what_ or _why_ they are.
Seen in the light of the theory which has thus been presented, Mr.
Spencer's difficulties vanish. Matter is force. Motion is matter
affected by another form of force. The "puzzle" of motion and rest is
only phenomenal to the Sense; it is an appearance of force acting
through another force. It may also be said that the Universe is solid
force. There is no void in it. There is no nook, no crevice or cranny,
that is not full of force. To seek, then, for some medium through which
force may traverse vast distances, is the perfection of superfluity.
From centre to circumference it is present, and controls all things, and
is all things. So it is no more difficult to see how force reaches forth
and holds worlds in their place, than how it draws down the pebble which
a boy has thrown into the air. It is no substance which must travel over
the distance, it is rather an inflexible rod which swings the worlds
round in their orbits. Whether, then, we look at calcined crags or
lilies of the valley, whether astronomy, or geology, or chemistry be our
study, the objects grouped under those sciences will be found to be
equally the results of this one force, acting under different laws, and
taking upon itself different forms, and becoming different objects.
That faculty and that line of thought, which have given so readily the
solution of the difficulties brought to view by Mr. Spencer's
examination of the outer world, will afford us an easier solution, if
possible, of the difficulties which he has raised respecting the inner
world. That which is not of us, but is far from us, may perchance be
imperfectly known; but ourselves, what we are, and the laws of our
being, may be certainly and accurately known. And this is the highest
knowledge. It may be important, as an element of culture, that we become
acquainted with many facts respecting the outer world. It cannot but be
of the utmost importance, that we know ourselves; for thus only can we
fulfil the behest of that likeness to God, in which we were originally
created. We seek for, we may obtain, we _have obtained_ knowledge in the
inner world,--a knowledge sure, steadfast, immutable.
It seems to be more than a mere verbal criticism, rather a fundamental
one, that it is not "our states of consciousness" which "occur in
succession"; but that the modifications in our consciousness so occur.
Consciousness is _one_, and retains that oneness throughout all
modifications. These occur in the unity, as items of experience affect
it. Is this series of modifications "of consciousness infinite or
finite"? To this question experience _can_ give no answer. All
experiments are irrelevant; because these can only be after the faculty
of consciousness is. They can go no further back than the _forms_ of the
activity. These they may find, but they cannot account for. A law lies
on all those powers by which an experiment may be made, which forever
estops them from attaining to the substance of the power which lies back
of the form. The eye cannot examine itself. The Sense, as mental
capacity for the reception of impressions, cannot analyze its
constituents. The Understanding, as connective faculty concluding in
judgments, is impotent to discover why it must judge one way and not
another. It is only when we ascend to the Reason that we reach the
region of true knowledge. Here, overlooking, analyzing all the conduct
of the lower powers, and holding the self right in the full blaze of the
Eye of self, Man attains a true and fundamental _self-knowledge_. From
this Mount of Vision we know that infinity and finiteness have no
pertinence to modifications of consciousness, or in fact to any series.
We attain to the further knowledge that this series is, _must be_,
limited; because the constituted beings, in whom it in each case
inheres, are limited, and had a beginning. It matters not now to inquire
how a self-conscious person could be created. It is sufficient to know
that one has been created. This fact involves the further fact that
consciousness, as an actuality, began in the order of nature, after the
being to whom it belongs as endowment, or, in other words, an
organization must be, before the modifications which inhere in that
organization can become. The attainment of this as necessary law is far
more satisfactory than any experience could be, were it possible; for we
can never know but that an experience may be modified; but a law given
in the intuition is immutable. The fact, ascertained many pages back,
that the subject and the object are identical under the final
examination of the Reason, enables us to attain the present end of the
chain. The question is one of fact, and is purely psychological. It
cannot be passed upon, or in any way interfered with, by logical
processes. It is only by examination, by seeing, that the truth can be
known. Faraday ridiculed as preposterous the pretension that a vessel
propelled by steam could cross the ocean, and demonstrated, to his
entire satisfaction, the impossibility of the event. Yet the Savannah
crossed, and laughed at him. Just so here, all arguing is folly. The
question is one of fact in experience. And upon it the soul gives
undoubted answer, as we have stated. Nor is it so difficult, as some
would have us believe, to see how this may be. Consciousness is an
indivisible unity, and, as we have before seen, may best be defined as
the light in which the person intuits his own acts and activities. This
unity is abiding, and is ground for the modifications. It is, then,
_now_, and the person now knows what the present modification _is_. The
person does not need to look to memory and learn what the former
modification was. It immediately knows what the modification _is_ now.
Thus a simple attainment of the psychological truth through a careful
examination dispels as a morning mist the whole cloud of Mr. Spencer's
difficulties. Well might President Hopkins say, "The only question is,
what is it that consciousness gives? If we say that it does thus give
both the subject and the object, that simple affirmation sweeps away in
a moment the whole basis of the ideal and skeptical philosophy. It
becomes as the spear of Ithuriel, and its simple touch will change what
seemed whole continents of solid speculation into mere banks of German
fog." We have learned, then, that it is not possible, or necessary,
either to "perceive" or "conceive" the terminations of consciousness,
because this involves the discovery, by _mechanical_ faculties, of their
own being and state before they became activities on the one hand, which
is a contradiction, and on the other an utter transcending of the sphere
of their capability, the attempt to do which would be a greater folly
than would be that of the hand to see Jupiter. But we have intuited the
law, which declares the necessity of a beginning for us and all
creatures; and we ever live in the light of the present end. When, then,
Mr. Spencer says that "Consciousness implies perpetual change and the
perpetual establishment of relations between its successive phases," we
know that he has uttered a fundamental psychological error, in fact,
that almost the opposite is the truth. Consciousness is the permanent,
the abiding, the changeless. It is the light of the personal Eye. Into
it all changes come; but they are only _incidental_. In the finite and
partial person, they come, because such person _must grow_; and so,
because of his partiality and incompleteness, they become necessary
incidents; but let there be a Person having all knowledge, who therefore
cannot learn, having all perfection, who therefore cannot change, and it
is plain that these facts in no way interfere with his consciousness.
All variety is immanent in its light, and no change can come into it
because _there is no change to come_; but this Person sees _all_ his
endowments _at once_, in the unity of this his light, just as we see
_some_ of our endowments in the unity of this our light. The change is
not in the consciousness, but in the objects which come into it. This
view also disposes of the theory that "any mental affection must be
known as like these foregoing ones or unlike those"; that, "if it is not
thought of in connection with others--not distinguished or identified by
comparison with others, it is not recognized--is not a state of
consciousness at all." Such comparison we have found only incidental in
consciousness, pertaining to things in the Sense and Understanding and
not essential. Thus does a true psychology dissipate all these
difficulties as a true cosmology explained the perplexities "of Motion
and Rest."
Take another step and we can answer the question "What is this that
thinks?" It is a spiritual person. What, then, is a spiritual person? A
substance--a kind of force--the nature of which we need inquire about no
further than to know that it is suitable to the use which is made of it,
which is organized, according to a set of constituting laws, into such
spiritual person. The substance without the laws would be simple
substance, and nothing more. The laws without the substance would be
only laws, and could give no being having no ground in which to inhere.
But the substance as ground and the complete set of laws as inhering in
the ground, and being its organization when combined, become a spiritual
person who thinks. The _ego_, that is the sense of personality, is only
one of the forms of activity of this being, and therefore cannot be said
to think. The pages now before us are all vitiated by the theory that
"successive impressions and ideas constitute consciousness." Once attain
to the true psychology of the person, and learn that consciousness is as
stated above,--an abiding light into which modifications come,--and
there arises no difficulty in believing in the reality of self, and in
entirely justifying that belief by Reason. Yea, more, from such a
standpoint it is utter unreason, the height of folly, to doubt for an
instant, for immanent and central in the light of Reason lies the solemn
fact of man's selfhood. We arrive, then, directly at Mr. Spencer's
conclusion, that "Clearly, a true cognition of self implies a state in
which the knowing and the known are one--in which subject and object are
identified," and we _know_ that such a state is an actuality. Mr. Mansel
may hold that such an assertion is the annihilation of both, but he is
wholly wrong. The Savannah has crossed the Atlantic.
We attain, then, exactly the opposite result from Mr. Spencer. We have
seen that "Ultimate Scientific Ideas are all" presentative "of
realities" which can "be comprehended." We have, indeed, found it to be
true, that, "after no matter how great a progress in the colligation of
facts and the establishment of generalizations ever wider and
wider,--after the merging of limited and derivative truths in truths
that are larger and deeper, has been carried no matter how far,--the
fundamental truth remains as much beyond reach as ever." But having
learned this, we do not arrive at the conclusion that "the explanation
of that which is explicable does but bring out into greater clearness
the inexplicableness of that which remains behind." On the other hand we
know that such a conclusion is erroneous, and _that the method by which
it is reached is a false method, and utterly irrelevant to the object
sought_. Could this lesson but be thoroughly learned, Mr. Spencer's
work, and our work, would not have been in vain. Only by a method
differing from this IN KIND--a method in which there is no "colligation
of facts," and no "generalizations" concluded therefrom, but a simple,
direct insight into Pure Truth--can "the fundamental truth" be known;
and thus it may be known by every human soul. "_God made man in his own
image._" In our scheme there is ample room for the man of Science, with
the eye of Sense, to run through the Universe, and gather facts. With
telescope and microscope, he may pursue them, and capture innumerable
multitudes of them. But having done this, we count it folly to attempt
to generalize truth therefrom. But holding up the facts in the clear
light of Reason, and searching them through and through, we _see_ in
them the immutable principle, known by a spontaneous, immediate,
intuitive knowledge to be immutable, and thus we "_know the truth_."
"THE RELATIVITY OF ALL KNOWLEDGE."
In the opening of this chapter, Mr. Spencer states the result, which, in
his opinion, philosophy has attained as follows: "All possible
conceptions have been one by one tried and found wanting; and so the
entire field of speculation has been gradually exhausted without
positive result; the only result arrived at being the negative one above
stated--that the reality existing behind all appearances is, and must
ever be, unknown." He then sets down a considerable list of names of
philosophers, who are claimed by Sir William Hamilton as supporters of
that position. Such a parade of names may be grateful to the feelings of
the Limitists, but it is no support to their cause. The questions at
issue are of such a nature that no array of dignities, of learning, of
profound _opinions_, can have a feather's weight in the decision. For
instance, take Problem XLVII, of the first book of Euclid. What weight
have human opinion with reference to its validity? Though a thousand
mathematicians should deny its truth, it would be just as convincing as
now; and when a thousand mathematicians assert its truth, they add no
item to the vividness of the conviction. The school-boy, who never heard
of one of them, when he first reads it, knows it must be so, and that
this is an inevitable necessity, beyond the possibility of any power or
will to change. On principles simple, fixed, and final, just like those
of mathematics, seen by the same Eye and known with the same
intellectual certainty, and by logical processes just as pure,
conclusive, _demonstrative_ as those of geometry, _and by such alone_,
can the questions now before us be settled. But though names and
opinions have no weight in the final decision, though a demonstration is
demanded and must be given, still it is interesting to note the absence
of two names, representatives of a class, which must ever awaken, among
the devout and pure-hearted, attention and love, and whose teachings,
however unnoticed by Mr. Spencer, are a leaven working in the minds and
hearts of men, which develop with continually increasing distinctness
the solemn and sublime truth, that the human mind is capable of absolute
knowledge. Plato, with serious, yea, sad countenance, the butt of jeer
and scoff from the wits and comedians of his day, went about teaching
those who hung upon his lips, that in every human soul were Ideas which
God had implanted, and which were final truth. And Jesus Christ, with a
countenance more beautifully serious, more sweetly sad, said to those
Jews which believed on him, "If ye continue in my word, then are ye my
disciples indeed; _and ye shall know the truth_, and the truth shall
make you free." It may seem to men who grope about in the dismal cavern
of the animal nature--the Sense and Understanding--wise to refuse the
light, and reject the truths of the Pure Reason and the God-man, and to
call the motley conglomeration of facts which they gather, but cannot
explain, philosophy; but no soul which craves "the Higher Life" will,
can be satisfied with such attainments. It yearns for, it cries after,
yea, with ceaseless iteration it urges its supplication for the highest
truth; and it shall attain to it, because God, in giving the tongue to
cry, gave also the Eye to see. The Spiritual person in man, made in the
very image of God, can never be satisfied till, stripped of the weight
of the animal nature, it sees with its own Eye the Pure Reason, God as
the Highest Truth. And to bring it by culture, by every possible
manifestation of his wondrous nature, up to this high Mount of Vision,
is one object of God in his system of the Universe.
The teaching of the Word--that august personage, "who came forth from
God, and went to God," has been alluded to above. It deserves more than
an allusion, more than any notice which can be given it here. It is
astonishing, though perhaps not wholly unaccountable, that the writings
of the apostles John and Paul have received so little attention from
the metaphysicians of the world, as declarations of metaphysical truths.
Even the most devout students of them do not seem to have appreciated
their inestimable value in this regard. The reason for this undoubtedly
is, that their transcendent importance as declarations of religious
truth has shone with such dazzling effulgence upon the eyes of those who
have loved them, that the lesser, but harmoniously combining beams of a
true spiritual philosophy have been unnoticed in the glory of the nobler
light. It will not, therefore, we trust, be deemed irreverent to say
that, laying aside all questions of the Divinity of Christ, or of the
inspiration of the Bible, and considering the writings of John and Paul
merely as human productions, written at some time nobody knows when, and
by some men nobody knows who, they are the most wonderful revelations,
the profoundest metaphysical treatises the world has ever seen. In them
the highest truths, those most difficult of attainment by processes of
reflection, are stated in simple, clear language, and _they answer
exactly to the teachings of the Reason_. Upon this, President Hopkins
says: "The identity which we found in the last lecture between the
teaching of the constitution of man and the law of God, was not sought.
The result was reached because the analysis would go there. I was myself
surprised at the exactness of the coincidence." Nor is this coincidence
to be observed simply in the statement of the moral law. In all
questions pertaining to man's nature and state, the two will be found in
exact accord. No law is affirmed by either, but is accorded to by the
other. In fine, whoever wrote the Book must have had an accurate and
exhaustive knowledge of Man, about whom he wrote. Without any reference
then to their religious bearings, but simply as expositions of
metaphysical truths, the writings of the two authors named deserve our
most careful attention. What we seek for are laws, final, fixed laws,
which are seen by a direct intuition to be such; and these writings are
of great value, because they cultivate and assist the Reason in its
search for these highest Truths.
One need have no hesitation, then, in rejecting the authority of Mr.
Spencer's names, aye, even if they were a thousand more. We seek for,
and can obtain, that which he cannot give us--a demonstration; which he
cannot give us because he denies the very existence of that faculty by
which alone a demonstration is possible. As his empiricism is worthless,
so is his rationality. No "deduction" from any "_product_ of thought, or
process of thought," is in any way applicable to the question in hand.
Intuitions are the mental actions needed. Light is neither product nor
process. We pass over, then, his whole illustration of the partridge. It
proves nothing. He leads us through an interminable series of questions
to no goal; and says there is none. He gives the soul a stone, when it
cries for bread. One sentence of his is doubtless true. "Manifestly, as
the _most_ general cognition at which we arrive cannot be reduced to a
more general one, it cannot be understood." Of course not. When the
Understanding has attained to the last generalization _by these very
terms_, it cannot go any farther. But by no means does his conclusion
follow, that "Of necessity, therefore, explanation must eventually bring
us down to the inexplicable. The deepest truth which we can get at must
be unaccountable. Comprehension must become something other than
comprehension, before the ultimate fact can be comprehended." How shall
we account for the last generalization, and show this conclusion to be
false? Thus. Hitherto there have been, properly speaking, no
comprehensions, only perceptions in the Sense and connections in the
Understanding. "The sense _distinguishes_ quality and _conjoins_
quantity; the understanding _connects_ phenomena; the reason
_comprehends_ the whole operation of both." The Reason, then, overseeing
the operations of the lower faculties, and possessing within itself the
_a priori_ laws in accordance with which they are, _sees_ directly and
immediately why they are, and thus comprehends and accounts for them. It
sees that there is an end to every process of generalization; and it
then sees, what the Understanding could never guess, that _after_--in
the order of our procedure--the last generalization there is an eternal
truth, in accordance with which process and conclusion were and must be.
There remains, then, no inexplicable, for the final truth is seen and
known in its very self.
The passages quoted at this point from Hamilton and Mansel have been
heretofore examined, and need no further notice. We will pass on then to
his subsequent reflections upon them. It is worthy of remark, as a
general criticism upon these comments, that there is scarcely one, if
there is a single expression in the remainder of this chapter, which
does not refer to the animal nature and its functions. The illustrations
are from the material world, and the terms and expressions are suited
thereto. With reference to objects in the Sense, and connections in the
Understanding, the "fundamental condition of thought," which Mr. Spencer
supplies, is unquestionably valuable. There is "likeness" as well as
"relation, plurality, and difference." But observe that both these laws
alike are pertinent only to the Sense and Understanding, that they
belong to _things in nature_, and consequently have no pertinence to the
questions now before us. We are discussing _ideas_, not _things_; and
those are simple, and can only be seen, while these are complex, and may
be perceived, distinguished, and conceived. If any one shall doubt that
Mr. Spencer is wholly occupied with things in nature, it would seem that
after having read p. 80, he could doubt no longer. "Animals," "species
or genus," "mammals, birds, reptiles, or fishes," are objects by which
he illustrates his subject. And one is forced to exclaim, "How can he
speak of such things when they have nothing to do with the matter in
hand? What have God and infinity and absoluteness to do with 'mammals,
birds, reptiles, or fishes'? If we can know only these, why speak of
those?" It would seem that the instant they are thus set together and
contrasted, the soul must cry out with an irrepressible cry, "It is by
an utterly different faculty, and in entirely other modes, that I dwell
upon God and the questions concerning him. These modes of the animal
nature, by which I know 'mammals,' are different in kind from those of
the spiritual person, by which I know God and the eternal truth." And
when this distinction becomes clearly appreciated and fixed in one's
mind, and the query arises, how could a man so confound the two, and
make utter confusion of the subject, as the Limitists have done, he can
hardly refrain from quoting Romans I. 20 _et seq._ against them.
Let us observe now Mr. Spencer's corollary. "A cognition of the Real as
distinguished from the Phenomenal must, if it exists, conform to this
law of cognition in general. The First Cause, the Infinite, the
Absolute, to be known at all, must be classed. To be positively thought
of, it must be thought of as such or such--as of this or that kind." To
begin with the law which is here asserted, is _not_ a "general" law, and
so does not lie upon all cognition. It is only a special law, and lies
only upon a particular kind of cognition. This has been already
abundantly shown; yet we reproduce one line of proof. No mathematical
law comes under his law of cognition; neither can he, nor any other
Limitist, make it appear that it does so come. His law is law only for
things in nature, and not for principles. Since then all ideas are known
in themselves--are _self-evident_, and since God, infinity, and
absoluteness are ideas, they are known in themselves, and need not be
classed. So his corollary falls to the ground. Can we have any "sensible
experience" of God? Most certainly not. Yet we can have just as much a
sensible experience of him as of any other person--of parent, wife, or
child. Did you ever see a person--a soul? No. Can you see--"have
sensible experience of"--a soul? No. What is it, then, that we have such
experience of? Plainly the body--that material frame through which the
soul manifests itself. The Universe is that material system through
which God manifests himself to those spiritual persons whom he has made;
and that manifestation is the same in kind as that of a created soul
through the body which is given it. It follows then,--and not only from
this, but it may be shown by further illustration,--that every other
person is just as really inscrutable to us as God is; and further, that,
if we can study and comprehend the soul of our wife or child, we can
with equal certainty study, and to some extent comprehend, the soul of
God. Or, in other words, if man is only an animal nature, having a Sense
and Understanding, all personality is an insoluble mystery; all
spiritual persons are alike utterly inscrutable. And this is so,
because, upon the hypothesis taken, man is destitute of any faculty
which can catch a glimpse of such object. A Sense and Understanding can
no more see, or in any possible manner take cognizance of, a spiritual
person than a man born blind can see the sun. Again, we say he is
destitute of the faculty. Will Mr. Spencer deny the fact of the idea of
personality? Will he assert that man has no such notion? Let him once
admit that he has, and in that admission is involved the admission of
the reality of that faculty by which we know God, for the faculty which
cognizes personality, and cognizes God, is one and the same.
Although we do not like certain of Mr. Spencer's terms, yet, to please
him, we will use them. Some conclusions, then, may be expressed thus:
God as the Deity cannot be "classed"; he is unique. This is involved in
the very terms by which we designate him. Yet we cognize him, but this
is by an immediate intuition, in which we know him as he is in himself.
"We shall see him as he is," says the apostle; and some foretastes of
that transcendent revelation are vouchsafed us here on earth. But the
infinite Person, _as person_, must be "assimilated" with other persons.
Yet his infinity and absoluteness, _as such_, cannot be "grouped." And
yet again, _as qualities_, they can be "grouped" with other qualities.
Unquestionably between the Creator, _as such_, and the created, _as
such_, "there must be a distinction transcending any of the distinctions
existing between different divisions of the created." God as
self-existent differs in kind from man as dependent, and this difference
continues irrevocable; while that same God and that same man are _alike_
in kind _as persons_. This is true, because all spiritual persons are
composite beings; and while the essential elements of a spiritual person
are common to created persons and the uncreated Person, there are
_other_ characteristics, _not essential_ to personality, which belong
some to the created, and some to the uncreated, and differentiate them.
Or, in other words, God as person, and man as person, are alike. Yet
they are diverse in kind, and so diverse in kind that it is out of the
range of possibility for that diversity to be removed. How can this be
explained? Evidently thus. There are _qualities_ transfusing the
personality which cannot be interchangeable, and which constitute the
diversity. Personality is _form_ of being. Qualities transfuse the form.
Absoluteness and infinity are qualities which belong to one Person, and
are such that they thereby exclude the possibility of their belonging to
any other person; and so they constitute that one to whom they belong,
unique and supreme. Dependence and partiality are also qualities of a
spiritual person, but are qualities of the created spiritual person, and
are such as must always subordinate that person to the other. In each
instance it is, "_in the nature of things_," impossible for either to
pass over and become the other. Each is what he is by the terms of his
being, and must stay so.
But from all this it by no means follows that the dependent spiritual
person can have no knowledge of the independent spiritual Person. On the
other hand, it is the high glory of the independent spiritual Person,
that he can create another being "in his own image," to whom he can
communicate a knowledge of himself. "Like as a father pitieth his
children, so Jehovah pitieth them that fear him." Out of the fact of
his Father-hood and our childhood, comes that solemn, and, to the loving
soul, joyful fact, that he teaches us the highest knowledge just as
really as our earthly parents teach us earthly knowledge. This he could
not do if we had not the capacity to receive the knowledge; and we could
not have had the capacity, except he had been able, in "the nature of
things," and willing to bestow it upon us. While, then, God as "the
Unconditioned cannot be classed," and so as unconditioned we do not know
him "as of such or such kind," after the manner of the Understanding,
yet we may, do, "see him as he is," do know that he is, and is
unconditioned, through the insight of the Reason, the eye of the
spiritual person, and what it is to be unconditioned.
We now reach a passage which has filled us with unqualified amazement.
As much as we had familiarized ourselves with the materialistic
teachings of the Limitists, we confess that we were utterly unprepared
to meet, even in Mr. Spencer's writings, a theory of man so ineffably
degrading, and uttered with so calm and naive an unconsciousness of the
degradation it involved, as the following. Although for want of room his
illustrations are omitted, it is believed that the following extracts
give a fair and ample presentation of his doctrine.
"All vital actions, considered not separately but in their ensemble,
have for their final purpose the balancing of certain outer processes by
certain inner processes.
"There are unceasing external forces, tending to bring the matter of
which organic bodies consist, into that state of stable equilibrium
displayed by inorganic bodies; there are internal forces by which this
tendency is constantly antagonized; and the perpetual changes which
constitute Life may be regarded as incidental to the maintenance of the
antagonism....
"When we contemplate the lower kinds of life, we see that the
correspondences thus maintained are direct and simple; as in a plant,
the vitality of which mainly consists in osmotic and chemical actions
responding to the coexistence of light, heat, water, and carbonic acid
around it. But in animals, and especially in the higher orders of them,
the correspondences become extremely complex. Materials for growth and
repair not being, like those which plants require, everywhere present,
but being widely dispersed and under special forms, have to be formed,
to be secured, and to be reduced to a fit state for assimilation....
"What is that process by which food when swallowed is reduced to a fit
form for assimilation, but a set of mechanical and chemical actions
responding to the mechanical and chemical actions which distinguish the
food? Whence it becomes manifest, that, while Life in its simplest form
is the correspondence of certain inner physico-chemical actions with
certain outer physico-chemical actions, each advance to a higher form of
Life consists in a better preservation of this primary correspondence by
the establishment of other correspondences. Divesting this conception of
all superfluities, and reducing it to its most abstract shape, we see
that Life is definable as the continuous adjustment of internal
relations to external relations. And when we so define it, we discover
that the physical and the psychial life are equally comprehended by the
definition. We perceive that this, which we call intelligence, shows
itself when the external relations to which the internal ones are
adjusted begin to be numerous, complex, and remote in time and space;
that every advance in Intelligence essentially consists in the
establishment of more varied, more complete, and more involved
adjustments; and that even the highest achievements of science are
resolvable into mental relations of coexistence and sequence, so
cooerdinated as exactly to tally with certain relations of coexistence
and sequence that occur externally....
"And lastly let it be noted that what we call _truth_, guiding us to
successful action and the consequent maintenance of life, is simply the
accurate correspondence of subjective to objective relations; while
_error_, leading to failure and therefore towards death, is the absence
of such accurate correspondence.
"If, then, Life in all its manifestations, inclusive of Intelligence in
its highest forms, consists in the continuous adjustment of internal
relations to external relations, the necessarily relative character of
our knowledge becomes obvious. The simplest cognition being the
establishment of some connection between subjective states, answering to
some connection between objective agencies; and each successively more
complex cognition being the establishment of some more involved
connection of such states, answering to some more involved connection of
such agencies; it is clear that the process, no matter how far it be
carried, can never bring within the reach of Intelligence either the
states themselves or the agencies themselves."
Or, to condense Mr. Spencer's whole teaching into a few plain every-day
words, Man is an animal, and only an animal, differing nowhat from the
dog and chimpanzee, except in the fact that his life "consists in the
establishment of more varied, more complete, and more involved
adjustments," than the life of said dog and chimpanzee. Mark
particularly the sententious diction of this newly arisen sage. Forget
not one syllable of the profound and most important knowledge he would
impart. "Life in all its manifestations, inclusive of Intelligence in
its highest forms, consists in the continuous adjustment of internal
relations to external relations." See, there is not a limit, not a
qualification to the assertion! Now turn back a page or two, reader, if
thou hast this wonderful philosophy by thee, and gazing, as into a cage
in a menagerie, see the being its author would teach thee that thou art.
From the highest to the lowest forms, life is one. In its lower forms,
life is a set of "direct and simple" "correspondences." "But in animals,
_and especially in the higher orders of them_," and, of course, most
especially in the human animal as the highest order, "the
correspondences become extremely complex." As much as to say, reader,
you are not exactly a plant, nor are you yet of quite so low a type as
the chimpanzee aforesaid; but the difference is no serious matter. You
do not differ half as much from the chimpanzee as the chimpanzee does
from the forest he roves in. All the difference there is between you and
him is, that the machinery by which "the continuous adjustment of
internal relations to external relations" is carried on, is more
"complex" in you than in the chimpanzee. He roams the forest, inhabits
some cave or hollow tree, and lives on the food which nature
spontaneously offers to his hairy hand. You cut down the forest,
construct a house, and live on the food which some degree of skill has
prepared. He constructs no clothing, nor any covering to shield him from
the inclemency of the weather, but is satisfied with tawny, shaggy
covering, which nature has provided. You on the contrary are destitute
of such a covering, and rob the sheep, and kill the silk-worm, to supply
the lack. But in all this there is no _difference in kind_. The
mechanism by which life is sustained in you is more "complex," it is
true, than that by which life is sustained in him; there arise,
therefore, larger needs, and the corresponding "intelligence" to supply
those needs. But sweet thought, cheering thought, oh how it supports the
soul! Your life in its highest form is only this animal life,--is only
the constructive force by which that "extremely complex" machinery
carries on "the continuous adjustment of internal relations to external
relations." All other notions of life are "superfluities."
Reader, in view of the teaching of this new and widely heralded sage,
how many "superfluities" must you and I strip off from our "conception"
of life! And with what bitter disappointment and deep sadness should we
take up our lamentation for man, and say: How art thou fallen, oh man!
thou noblest denizen of earth; yea, how art thou cast down to the
ground. But a little ago we believed thee a spiritual being; that thou
hadst a nature too noble to rot with the beasts among the clods; that
thou wast made fit to live with angels and thy Creator, God. But a
little ago we believed thee possessed of a psychical life--a soul; that
thou wouldst live forever beyond the stars; and that this soul's life
was wholly occupied in the consideration of "heavenly and divine
things." A little ago we believed in holiness, and that thou,
consecrating thyself to pure and loving employments, shouldst become
purer and more beautiful, nobler and more lovely, until perfect love
should cast out all fear, and thou shouldst then see God face to face,
and rejoice in the sunlight of his smiling countenance. But all this is
changed now. Our belief has been found to be a cheat, a bitter mockery
to the soul. We have sat at the feet of the English sage, and learned
how dismally different is our destiny. Painful is it, oh reader, to
listen; and the words of our teacher sweep like a sirocco over the
heart; yet we cannot choose but hear.
"The pyschical life"--the life of the soul, "the immortal spark of
fire,"--and the physical life "are _equally_ definable as the continuous
adjustment of internal relations to external relations." We had supposed
that intelligence in its highest forms was wholly occupied with the
contemplation of God and his laws, and the great end of being, and all
those tremendous questions which we had thought fitted to occupy the
activities of a spiritual person. We are undeceived now. We find we have
shot towards the pole opposite to the truth. Now "we perceive that this
which we call Intelligence shows itself when the external relations to
which the internal ones are adjusted begin to be numerous, complex, and
remote in time or space; that _every advance in Intelligence essentially
consists in the establishment of more varied, more complete, and more
involved adjustments; and that even the highest achievements of science_
are resolvable into mental relations of coexistence and sequence, so
cooerdinated as _exactly to tally_ with certain relations of coexistence
and sequence that occur externally." In such relations consists the life
of the "caterpillar." In such relations, _only a little "more
complex,"_ consists the life of "the sparrow." Such relations only does
"the fowler" observe; such only does "the chemist" know. This is the
path by which we are led to the last, the highest "truth" which man can
attain. Thus do we learn "that what we call _truth_, guiding us to
successful action, and the consequent maintenance of life, is _simply_
the accurate correspondence of subjective to objective relations; while
error, leading to failure and therefore towards death, is the absence of
such accurate correspondence." What a noble life, oh, reader, what an
exalted destiny thine is here declared to be! The largest effort of
thine intelligence, "the highest achievement of science," yea, the total
object of the life of thy soul,--thy "psychial" life,--is to attain such
exceeding skill in the construction of a shelter, in the fitting of
apparel, in the preparation of food, in a word, in securing "the
accurate correspondence of subjective to objective relations," and thus
in attaining the "_truth_" which shall guide "us to successful action
and the consequent maintenance of life," that we shall secure forever
our animal existence on earth. Study patiently thy lesson, oh human
animal! Con it o'er and o'er. Who knows but thou mayest yet attain to
this acme of the perfection of thy nature, though it be far below what
thou hadst once fondly expected,--mayest attain a perfect knowledge of
the "_truth_," and a perfect skill in the application of that truth, _i.
e._ in "the continuous adjustment of internal relations to external
relations"; and so be guided "to successful action, and the consequent
maintenance of life," whereby thou shalt elude forever that merciless
hunter who pursues thee,--the grim man-stalker, the skeleton Death. But
when bending all thy energies, yea, all the powers of thy soul, to this
task, thou mayest recur at some unfortunate moment to the dreams and
aspirations which have hitherto lain like golden sunlight on thy
pathway. Let no vain regret for what seemed thy nobler destiny ever
sadden thy day, or deepen the darkness of thy night. True, thou didst
deem thyself capable of something higher than "the continuous
adjustment of internal relations to external relations"; didst often
occupy thyself with contemplating those "things which eye hath not seen,
nor ear heard"; didst deem thyself a son of God, and "a joint-heir with
Jesus Christ," "of things incorruptible and undefiled, and which fade
not away, eternal in the heavens"; didst sometimes seem to see, with
faith's triumphant gaze, those glorious scenes which thou wouldst
traverse when in the spirit-land thou shouldst lead a pure spiritual
life with other spirits, where all earthliness had been stripped off,
all tears had been wiped away, and perfect holiness was thine through
all eternity. But all these visions were only dreams; they wholly
deluded thee. We have learned from the lips of this latest English sage
that thy god is thy belly, and that thou must mind earthly things, so as
to keep up "the continuous adjustment of internal relations to external
relations." Such being thy lot, and to fulfil such a lot being "the
highest achievement of science," permit not thyself to be disturbed by
those old-fashioned and sometimes troublesome notions that "_truth_" and
those "achievements" pertained to a spiritual person in spiritual
relations to God as the moral Governor of the Universe; that man was
bound to know the truth and obey it; that his "errors" were violations
of perfect law,--the truth he knew,--were _crimes_ against Him who is
"of too pure eyes to behold iniquity, and cannot look upon sin with the
least degree of allowance"; that for these crimes there impended a just
penalty--an appalling punishment; and that the only real "failure" was
the failure to repent of and forsake the crimes, and thus escape the
penalty. Far other is the fact, as thou wilt learn from this wise man's
book. As he teaches us, the only "error" we can make, is, to miss in
maintaining perfectly "the continuous adjustment of internal relations
to external relations,"--is to eat too much roast beef and plum-pudding
at dinner, or to wear too scanty or too thick clothing, or to expose
one's self imprudently in a storm, or by some other carelessness which
may produce "the absence of such accurate correspondence" as shall
secure unending life, and so lead to his only "failure"--the advance
"towards death." When, then, oh reader! by some unfortunate mischance,
some "error" into which thine ignorance hath led thee, thou hast
rendered thy "failure" inevitable, and art surely descending "towards
death," hesitate not to sing with heedless hilarity the old Epicurean
song, "Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die."
Sing and be gay
The livelong day,
Thinking no whit of to-morrow.
Enjoy while you may
All pleasure and play,
For after death is no sorrow.
Thou hast committed thine only "error" in not maintaining "the accurate
correspondence"; thou hast fallen upon thine only "failure," the
inevitable advance "towards death." Than death no greater evil can
befall thee, and that is already sure. Then let "dance and song," and
"women and wine," bestow some snatches of pleasure upon thy fleeting
days.
Delightful philosophy, is it not, reader? Poor unfortunate man, and
especially poor, befooled, cheated, hopeless Christian man, who has
these many years cherished those vain, deceitful dreams of which we
spoke a little ago! To be brought down from such lofty aspirations; to
be made to know that he is only an animal; that "Life in all its
manifestations, inclusive of Intelligence in its highest forms, consists
in the continuous adjustment of internal relations to external
relations." Do you not join with me in pitying him?
And such is the philosophy which is heralded to us from over the sea as
the newly found and wonderful truth, which is to satisfy the hungering
soul of man and still its persistent cry for bread. And this is the
teacher, mocking that painful cry with such chaff, whom newspaper after
newspaper, and periodical after periodical on this side the water, even
to those we love best and cherish most, have pronounced one of the
profoundest essayists of the day. Perhaps he can give us some sage
remarks upon "laughter," as it is observed in the human animal, and on
that point compare therewith other animals. But, speaking in all
sincerity after the manner of the Book of Common Prayer, we can but say,
"From all such philosophers and philosophies, good Lord deliver us."
Few, perhaps none of our readers, will desire to see a denial in terms
of such a theory. When a man, aspiring to be a philosopher, advances the
doctrine that not only is "Life in its simplest form"--the animal
life--"the correspondence of certain inner physico-chemical actions with
certain outer physico-chemical actions," but that "_each advance to a
higher form of Life_ consists in a better preservation of this primary
correspondence"; and when, proceeding further, and to be explicit, he
asserts that not only "the physical," _but also "the psychical life_ are
_equally_" but "the continuous adjustment of internal relations to
external relations"; and when, still further to insult man, and to utter
his insult in the most positive, extreme, and unmistakable terms, he
asserts "that even the highest achievements of science are resolvable
into mental relations of coexistence and sequence, so cooerdinated as
exactly to tally with certain relations of coexistence and sequence that
occur externally,"--that is, that the highest science is the attainment
of a perfect cuisine; in a word, when a human being in this nineteenth
century offers to his fellows as the loftiest attainment of philosophy
the tenet that the highest form of life cognizable by man is an animal
life, and that man can have no other knowledge of himself than as an
animal, of a little higher grade, it is true, than other animals, but
not different in kind, then the healthy soul, when such a doctrine is
presented to it, will reject it as instantaneously as a healthy stomach
rejects a roll of tobacco.
With what a sense of relief does one turn from a system of philosophy
which, when stripped of its garb of well-chosen words and large
sounding, plausible phrases, appears in such vile shape and hideous
proportions, to the teachings of that pure and noble instructor of our
youth, that man who, by his gentle, benignant mien, so beautifully
illustrates the spirit and life of the Apostle John,--Rev. Mark Hopkins,
D. D., President of Williams College. No one who has read his "Lectures
on Moral Science," and no lover of truth should fail to do so, will
desire an apology for inserting the following extract, wherein is
presented a theory upon which the soul of man can rest, as at home the
soldier rests, who has just been released from the Libby or Salisbury
charnel-house.
"And here, again, we have three great forces with their products. These
are the vegetable, the animal, and the rational life.
"Of these, vegetable life is the lowest. Its products are as strictly
conditional for animal life as chemical affinity is for vegetable, for
the animal is nourished by nothing that has not been previously
elaborated by the vegetable. 'The profit of the earth is for all; the
king himself is served by the field.'
"Again, we have the animal and sensitive life, capable of enjoyment and
suffering, and having the instincts necessary to its preservation.
_This_, as man is now constituted, _is conditional for his rational
life_. The rational has its roots in that, and manifests itself only
through the organization which that builds up.
"_We have, then, finally and highest of all, this rational and moral
life, by which man is made in the image of God._ In man, as thus
constituted, we first find a being who is capable of choosing his own
end, or, rather, of choosing or rejecting the end indicated by his whole
nature. This is moral freedom, _and in this is the precise point of
transition from all that is below to that which is highest_. For
everything below man the end is necessitated. Whatever choice there may
be in the agency of animals of means for the attainment of their
end,--and they have one somewhat wide,--they have none in respect to the
end itself. This, for our purpose, and for all purposes, is the
characteristic distinction, so long sought, between man and the brute.
Man determines his own end; the end of the brute is necessitated. Up to
man everything is driven to its end by a force working from without or
from behind; but for him the pillar of cloud and of fire puts itself in
front, and he follows it or not, as he chooses.
"In the above cases it will be seen that the process is one of the
addition of new forces, with a constant limitation of the field within
which the forces act.... It is to be noticed, however, that while the
field of each added and superior force is narrowed, yet nothing is
dropped. Each lower force shoots through, and combines itself with all
that is higher. Because he is rational, man is not the less subject to
gravitation and cohesion and chemical affinity. He has also the organic
life that belongs to the animal. In him none of these are dropped; _but
the rational life is united with and superinduced upon all these_, so
that man is not only a microcosm, but is the natural head and ruler of
the world. He partakes of all that is below him, _and becomes man by the
addition of something higher_.... Here, then, is our model and law. Have
we a lower sensitive and animal nature? Let that nature be cherished and
expanded by all its innocent and legitimate enjoyments, for it is an
end. But--and here we find the limit--let it be cherished _only as
subservient to the higher intellectual life_, for it is also a means."
The italics are ours.