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Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la m6thode. irrata to pelure, n A □ 32X 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 1^. ''T*'*" 7vf?f**?*,'* THE PROBLEM OF PERSONALITY 0: THESIS PRESENTED FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHII,OSOPH^^ AT CORNEI.L UNIVERSITY, JUNE, 1889. BY ELIZA RITCHIE. y' \ " // est datigiueux de trap /aire voir a I'homme conibien il est Igal anx bHi's sans lui monlirr sa grandeur, Tl est encore daiigereux de In i fail e trap voir sa grandeur sans sa bassesse. II fist encore plus dangereux dclui'aisser ignorer I'ltn et Vautre. Mais il est tr'es avantagetix de lui reprhenter Vun et I'autre." —Pascal's Pensees. f.. ■ ITHACA, N. Y. ANDRUS & CHURCH. 1889. / W*W!*i''> II i.,/i|i>j«inpiqai*«g; W'WM / For Library Use Only. / <35? - %-i^ a3/a; THE PROBLEM OF PERSONALITY THESIS PKRSENTKI) FOR THK nRGRKK OK DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY, AT CORNELL UNIVERSITY, JUNE, 1889. RY EIvIZA RITCHIE, "// est daiif;nrux dc tiof> fahr Toir a Vhomme combii'n i! est fgalaiix hHes sans tut montrer sa grandeur. II est rncnre dangereux de Uiifaire trap voir sa gravdetir sanssa bassesse. fl est encore plusdangereuv de luilaisser ignorer I'un et I'autre. .Ifai's it est tres a-'antageiix dc lui reprcsenter t'ltn et I'autre." — Pascal's Pensees. ITHACA, N. Y. ANDRUS & CHURCH. 18S9. I The Problem of Personality. CIIAPTICR I. THK PROlJIJvM. TT is a coinnion accusaliuii brought against Pliilosophj- ^ that it makes no true progress, — that it never attains to definite and ])erniaiient results. The problems that en- gaged it two thousand years ago are, it is said, still un- solved, — the (pieslio-as that .Socrates asked of his fellow citizens on the streets of Athens still wait for a final answer. And this lack of result is contrasted with the rich fruits that have been gathered in the various departments ol physical science, where each patient investigator may hope to make S(,)me sniall addition to the great sum of human knowleilge. It nuiy be that the objection thus raised shows a certain ignorance as to the sense in which a solution is to be expected to speculative problems. Perhaps such objec- tion may be met ))y ])oinling out that it is in the gradual eluci- dation of what such questions involve, and the raising of the mind by means of them to ever higher spheres of thought, rather than in categorical answers, that the work of philoso- phy consists. And it may be lu'ged that, in .some measure, the inquirer has himself to blame if he does not recognize that certain territories have been conquered for humanity even in the obscure regions of mela[)hysical speculation. The .scoffer at the vanity of phihjsophical research may be but a modern Pilate who will listen to no answer to his own (piestion of skeptical iiidiflference :— What is Truth? Yet the criticism is not altogether unfounded or unjust. In the field of .scientific discovery each successive student finds a large body of well-ascertained facts and thoroughly tested hypotheses already within his reach ; and to these he nuy hope to add accovdin;^ to liis aMlily and industry : whiK' fn.n. Ihf varvin;- and olk-ii n.nnirtiii- syskins ol spenilativc- philosophies each ikw thinker nui>t make hi^ dioice. No -reat philosophic writer has accvpad the teach- in- of his pvedecessor as a whole, however nitudi he may iKwe been innnenccd hy it. He not ciitenl hunsell with enlai-inu- the scoik-, or tracin- onl the details, of a previous theorv, hiit nsnilly he-ins ./r ;/c):v and institutes a new system tor himself. We m lintain, indee<1, that amid this apparent discord and confusion there is pro-ress, real and permanent, but it undoubtedly seems va-ne and nnctu- ntin- as compared with the steady -'"Wl'i of natural science No wander that the practical spirit of our time turns to that direction where the results seem at once more immediate, more certain, and more useful. It is not the purpo.se of this essay to discuss the value and validity of philosophic study. If wc refer to the weak ikmiiI in the pliilo.<^phic armom", it is for the jmrpose of showiiiK how. in the writer's opinion, it may be streii-theiied. If philosophical .study is to be a livino- force, leading men to new truths or ,i;iving them a deeper in.sighl into truths al- ready known, surely it must effect its pmposc.-not by ignor- ing- the results of modern scientific research, the influence of which is continually, though often to us nnconsciimsly. jnoulding our views of life and the world ;-but rather by cordially accepting the new side lights thus thrown upon its problems, and endeavoring to grasp and present the separate or but partially connected facts thus bnmght into view by uniting them in a rational and '. ■'elligible system. It is, at all events, in this spirit that we would approach the subject of t^iCrsonality. If there is one matter discussed by speculative tliiiik- ers which can claim to be of universal interest, it is the nature of the personality of man himself. However altruistic we may be in theory or practice, however we may be occupied witl'i the marvels (^f nature or the products ot art, no nran would deny that the supreme interests of lile centre round that composite, ill defined, dimly undenstcod, 1ml \ivi(lly iral h^iii.; hv c;ills himself. What is this srlf? What (M)iistiiutfs a pti-dii^ What am I ? I'midaiiKiital as Ihisf «nn.'sli(i]is ai)iiear, still mniv si. aic-hiii;;' is this other : Is iK'ic siu'h an fiility a^ a self, a piison, an t'K"? This is no mutai>li\si("al straw <]>littin;4. A " psNcholoLiy witlmul ;i soul" is (irf',i(.-(l u^ to ila\- not 1)\' s])iM'iilali\T jilii'io o^ihv luit in Ihc nanu' of sol)i,T ami c\, id science. It has hccn alliruKd tljal from lla- lime of 1 )i, -(-ailcs, materialism i> a nuie an- achronism, l)Ul Iho i'k.ilir^t oan no lon;_;ir la\- that fl.ilkiing inic-tii>n to lli-^ sonl. In linlh, anachronism or no, material- ism ha" nevi r left the fielil. Mealism ma\ lia\e Iri- uniphed time ami ,il; lin. hut its enem\- has not ivco.^- ni/.eil its own (lei'eal. l.,ike the .-.lion:^ man ' he le.^end, who, Ihiown lo the ,L;it)nnd on]\- L;.itheief tlunii^hl wlien we fnllv n coi.;ni/e wlm.l me;isuie "f trnth is mixed up with it. That Ihvw- i,-., in a very real .sense, a soul, an e;4o, will he ma;le a]>parenl hy the examination we have undertaken into the si^ynifieance of the W( .id ])ersoiial;ty. What con-^lilules per.sonalitv ? Tlie eonce])l seems at first siL;ht so ^imple as haidlx to dc-maiul explaiKition or clefiuititju. \'et the word is used to exjuess very v.nions, and sometimes \er\- v.ij^ne and indefmile notions. What we want it the outset of our iiup'.irx' into the Mihjeet is ;i sueeiiu-l and cdear aee<)unt ol wiial we eoininonly mean 1)\ the term "])er.-i>n," as that word i> usually emploved in every-day spLi.-cli. The definition thus foimnkitcd ir.a\, it is tine, he snh.sc- (lUeiitly found to be more or less insnffieieiil and to re([uire important correction, as our insij^ht into what it includes be- comes deeper and clearer by aiials'sis and relkction. Some- thii"' of this S')rt ;ilm;)st inevilal) r, a o ; I o ws the attempt to ])enetrate to tlu- line significr.nce of iacts wliich have been always jiresenl to us, and with which in a sense we have been all our lives familiar. But provi-^ional definilion will — 6 — at least serve to mark out the field of our inquiries, au It is not uncommon to see the statement that causa- tion is onlv legitimately appl^'cable to the relation in time be- tween moving bodies or particles of matter. There is no ob- jection to this limitation of the category, provided always we recognize that just the same n.cessity of thought which causes us to connect together a material change with antecedent ma- terial changes, also leads us to make a similar comiection ni thought between anj' phenomenon, mental as well as mater- ial a'iid what precedes it. It is only when we realize that causation is a m^de of thought,— a relation, and therefore, like all relations, pertains not to being as such, but to our knowledge of being, that we get a light thrown upon this dif- ficult sul)ject. Then we see that the applicability of causa- tion to the relation between 'mind and body is but a question of words. The facts of importance and of indisputable cer- tainty are these ; mental and bodily states are related,--phy- sical changes are followed by physical changes, and mental, by mental changes ; and changes in the one series occur sim- ultaneously and proportionately with changes in the other series. It is necessary to rational thinking that these rela- tions should be recognized,— to know any phenomenon what- ever, is to know it in its relations,— but it is not necessary to call any or all of these relations, causation. I^et the physicist confine causation to the physical sphere exclusively, let the psychologist if he will, speak of the "associative power " of ideas, and let the synchronous change in nervous molecules and conscious feeling be described as the "conditioning" of the one by the other,— only let it be remembered that there is nothing specially appropriate in these uses of the words. Such language is but the clumsy attempt of our finite intellect to express, in this one instance, the universal truth that rational knowledge sees nature, not as composed of separated and iso- lated parts, but as a whole, in and for which each part has its existence. So far we have been considering the facts regarding the re- lation of mind and body. Can we, now, present any hy- pothesis which shall account in an intelligible way for these $ I II g caused at causa- II lime be- i is no ob- ihvays we ich causes edent nia- nectiou in as mater- alize that therefore, )Ut to our )n this dif- of causa- i question utable cer- ted, — phy- .\d mental, occur sim- 1 the other these rela- tion what- ecessary to e physicist :ly, let the power" of I molecules ioning" of liat there is ords. Such intellect to lat rational ted and iso- part has its ling the re- nt any hy- ly for these — 15 — facts ? A certain coniplexus of material particles we know as a hunian organism ; a certain series of psychical states we know as the corresi)ondiiig human mind. We have compared the mental and bodily phenomena to two parallel lines, a point in one corresponding to a point in the other ; since a change in a mental stale coincides in time with, and is pro- portional in intensity to, a change in the nervous matter of the brain. But for this figure we may substitute another, that of a curved line, the concave and convex sides of which picture to us the physical and mental series of phenomena. The sides of the line, as such, are not entities, the line is the unit, they are only asprr/s of the line. If this figure is, in truth, applicable, we see at once that the concomitance of physical and psychical is unavoidal>le. The convexity of the line does not "cause " the concavity, nor does the change in the physical state "cause" change in the psychical con- dition. It is not a case of causation but of identity. Not that the corresponding phenomena of mind and matter are identical, any more than concavity is identical with convex- ity ; the two are totally unlike, yet they correspond in their difference as being two aspects, two sides, of one thing. What then must we understand by the line itself? The an. swer must be, the person, that alone constitutes the true en- tity. Consciousness is not the mere accidental offshoot of nervous processes, as the materialist has asserted ; matter is not the phantasmal appearance of mind, as the spiritualist sometimes maintains ; each is a side of reality, and differing from its fellow as an aspect, is one with it in the unity of the person. But this view has its own difficulties, the chief of which may be put thus : How is it that changes take place in the particles of the body, and even in the centres of the nervous system when there is apparently a total absence of conscious- ness ? Are there not many motions on the physical side with- out any concomitant change on the mental side? The theory which endeavors to satisfy this very pertinent objection to the "double-faced unity " view of mind and matter, is one which was brought forward in England some i6 years .-igo l)y the late Pioll-ssor ClifTord, hut wliicli lias per- haps ])i-cii presented with more of seientific caution, and on a sounder philosoi)liicaI basis by the great German ])hysiologist, Wnudt. In brief, it consists in the assumption that a// mat- ter has not only a physical but a " jjsychical side,"— a rudi- mentary feelitit^or impulse—" Trieb " in Wundt's language ; and that in rising through the scale of evolution, this at first mere elementary potentiality of feeling becomes more and more develojied and elaborated till the highest ])oint is reached in man, when the structure of the nervous system is most com- plex and intricate, and the mental consciousness has reached a proportionate stage of perfection. This hypothesis, it is evident, not only suj^ports the physiologist in the doctrine of concomitance, but also is in thorough harmony with the gen- eral tenor of the evc^lutionary view of the universe. As Pro- fessor Clifford points out, it bridges over the otherwise im- passable chasm between conscious and unconscious matter, between sentient and non-sentient life, and represents the series of evolutionary development, on its mental as well as on its physical side, as a continuou ;, unbroken chain. It has been held that this hypothesis requires for its sup- port the supposition of " unconsci(ms mental states," in order lo enable it to answer satisfactorily the difficulty already propounded,— namely, the intermittent nature of conscious- ness itself. Without attempting to go deeply into this inter- esting but obscure question, it may suffice to point out that, when consciousness is suspended, as during sleep or a swoon, the particles of matter in the nervous system are not in pre- c;sel>- the same state as when consciousness is present. It cannot be too much empliasized that ^«r consciousness is not constituted by detached feelings or ideas. When we are con- scious, we are self-conscious, there is a thread of memory string- ing together, as it were, the present momentary feeling with those inunediately preceding it. Memory may be very faint, the feelings it recalls very simple and few, but while we are conscious we have so/ne memory. Now it is conceivable that while a man is unconscious, as in .sleep or in a fainting fit, the molecules of nervous matter in his brain may still be in mo- :li lias per- il, and on a liysiolo^ist, at all mal- ," — a nuli- language ; Ihis at first re and more reached in most coni- las readied thesis, it is doctrine of th the gen- ■. As Pio- erwise ini- )us matter, cseiits the as well as tin. for its sup- i," in order ty already eonscious- this inter- it out that, )r a swoon, not ill pre- resent. It ness is not ve are coii- iory string- deling with very faint, lile we are ivable that ing fit, the be in nio- linn and concomitant psychical slates mav occur, but these psychical states are like tliose connected with low organisms or inorganic atoms, that is they are not united by memory so as to lonu a consciousness. (JJnly in some such sense docs tlie conception of unconscious mind seem tenable. If this theory be accepted as giving us on the whole the most rational and ade^piale view of this difficult subject two consecpieuces must follow from it. First, whatever reality we ascribe to the body must also be ascribed to the mind Jiud VHc versa. And. secondly, the mind is a unitv in the same sense, and only in the .same seu.se. as is the bo.lilv or- ganism Here, as in the ca.se of the causal relation already referred to, we must n.^t forget that such categories do not exist m independence of knowledge. We form a unity whenever, by virtue of one synthetic power we gather up olxserved phenomena into one. A ganglion cell in the hu- man body is a unit, when we study it in relation to other ganglion cells or other parts of the organism, but the mole- cules winch make up the matter of such a cell are also units and the whole human body is itself a unit, and according to the theory we have been considering, bodv and mind to- gether constitute the still higher unity of the person. In our •study of mind we may, if we will, observe each .separate psychical state, and regard the mind as merely a series of such ; but if we are studying the human mind in comparison vvith other minds, or with what is non-mental, we must be able to recognize such mind as a unitv,-not, indeed as a simple, indivisible unity, but rather as one that is hic-hly complex and susceptible of indefinitely minute aualvsis-but a unity for ail that. CIIAPTI-R III. I'KRSOXALITV AS ,SIiL,K COXSCIOUSNKSS. The view we have here adopted, that personalilj' is the unity of which iniud and Ixxly are the two ()p])o.site sides or aspects opens out to ns new prohleins. We have hitlierlo considered tlie conjnnetion of physical and psychical phe- nomena in man, but we are at once confronted by the ques- tion, whether personality is limited to man ? If so, what is it which differentiates the union of mental and botlily ccjiiditions in man, from what is, to all appearance the similar luiion in the lower animals? In the dog, just as truly as in the dog's master, there seem to be the signs of feeling, sensations, and memory, — reasoning powers of soi..^ sort, and emotions more or less strong. The body of the dog, as far as we can judge, expresses changes in the mental states, just as does the body of the man. Such expressions, it is true, are more liable to be mis-read by tis than are the outward indications of feeling, will and thought in our fellowme!i ; but we also are liable to error in our efforts to interpret the significant actions, words, and gestures of children and savages. In all such cases we may blunder in translating the physical symbol into its psychical equivalent, but this has no bearing on the fact of there being such an equivalent. Is the dog then a person ? It is certainly contrary to all usage to apply the term to members of the "brute creation." Here, however, as else- where, we nuist remember that words are the crystallizations o^ pixst beliefs ; and that to force modern conceptions into a Procrustiau bed of verbal forms, is to make words our nuis- ters instead of our .servants. The rise and growth of the evolutionary theory has, within the last half century totally altered the conception of our relation to the other members of the animal world. The diflferences have been shown to be less, the resemblance greater, between man and other ani- — 19 — ilily is the e sides or L' hillicrlo liical plie- tlie ques- , what is it conditions r union in the dog's ilions, and )li()ns more can judge, s the body e hable to of feeling, are liable it actions, 1 all such ynibol into n the fact I a person ? le term to r, as else- :allizations ons into a s our nias- vth of the iry totally ■ members shown to other ani- mals, than had previou.lv been surmised. Hut if, as science seems i„ leach, man has been develnpc-d in acconlance with natural aw from (h. brule. if morally, uitellectuallv, ami physR-aliy there is no absolute chasm between the"lowest races ol man anr -rgamc life, a.d even to inorganic particles of matter is oin-iously to rob the notion of all significance. We nuisl, therefore, pn.ceed lo eonsider the ehief eharac- tenst.e marks of personality. The most obvious of ihe^e is seirec.nsciousness. This, as has been frequentlv pointed out l>y i.lnlosophical writers, is the one fact of absolute unchano- '■ig certainty, uhieh we seem lo know in'uitively as the pe- nianenl elem.nl in our cmslanlly changing states of mind \ct when we art' asked to point out this self evident fact of our mental life, we can only reply that it is involved in our knowledge of such mental life itself. In introspection the .".nd appears as a series of sUUes. of internal phenomena; tlie tact o- self-eoncionsness seems to be just ibis, that the slates a;. W..SVVVV.-. At any one j.oint t],ere is the power of recalling certain past stales, or. m,.re slrictlv sneaking, along with the appearance of a state there is the feeling tlmt it or one reseml)lmg it. has been e.xperiet.ced before. When this reterence of the terms to one another is present there is a series and there nnist be essentially a consciousness of the self, that ,s of a permanency in the fiu.x, though it may not be more than very vaguely recognized. If unacconi- lory of even nediate fu- is irrecon- y and pro- any evolu- the physi- h suddenl}- ^' ascending t in a form ". Romanes, ^ives an in- :; holds first I with the iject diu'ing nry nuiy, I thudc, be regarded as consisting in the aftereffect produced upon a sensory nerve by a stinndus, which after-effect, so long as it endures, is continuously carried up to the sensorium. vSuch. fur instance, is the case with after-images on the retina, the rd'ler-painof a blow, etc." " The next stage of memory that it appears to me possible to distinguish by any definite interval from the first named, is that of feeling a present sensation to 1 e like a past sensation. lu order to do this theie may be no memory of the sensntion between the two .successive occasions of its occurrence, and neither need there be any a.ssociation of ideas. Only this takes place. When the sensation recm-s the second, third or fuivth time, etc., it is recognized as like the sensation when It oceurred^the first time- as like a sensation which is not un- lannliar. Thus, for example, according to vSigisnnuid, who has devoted nuicli carefid attention to the psvchogenesis of uifanls, it appears that the sweet taste of milk' being remem- bered by newly-born infants, ciiuses them to prefer sweet tastes in general to ta^tes of any (;tlier kind." fp. 114.) Dr. Romanes then proceeds to show that the next staue of the nascent memory is the recognition of a sensation as'un- bke a p;;st .sensation, and continiies : "It will be observed that in dealing with these singes of memory in very young nifants, where as yet no a.s.sociation can either be suppcised to be present or is needed to explain the facts, we at once en- counter the (■nestinn whether the memory is to be considered as really due to iu(]i\iclMal ex])erience, or as an hereditary endowment, i. e., an insiinct. And here it becomes apj.osile to refer to the old and highly interesting experiment of (:',;den, wbicli definitely answers this question with lelerence to ani- inals. lM,r s, .on after iis l>irth, and before it had ever sucked, Galen look a kid and placed before it a row (^f similar basins,' filled re.-^iiectively with milk, wine, oil, honey, and fiour.' The kid, ai'ter examining the basins bv smell, .selected the one whi. h was nlled with nu'lk. This unquesticinably proves tlie fact of hereditary memory, or in.stinct, in the ca.s'e ( f the kid ; and therefore it is probable that the same, at all events ij) pan, applies tr. the ca,-,e of the cliild." "But allhoni-h Nxe — 22 freely admit tluit the memory of milk is, at all events in large part, hereditary, it is none the less memory of a kind and occnrs without the association of ideas. In other words hereditary memory or instinct belongs to ^YhatI have marked off as the second and third stages of conscious memory in the largest acceptance of the term. The stages, that is, where, without any association of ideas, a present sensation is per- ceived as like, or unlike a past one. It makes no essential diiference whether the jiast sensation was actually experienced by the individual itself or bequeathed to it, so to speak, by its ancestors." (pp. 115-116). This account brings before us the gradual dawn of the be- ginnings of memory. And we must believe that .self-con- sciousness, like U'-mory, docs not appear suddenly in its com- plete and fully develop-in, Lul)bock, Ro- manes and Wundt. The mental history of the child has also been carefully and patiently studied b}- such competent ob- .servers as Sully, Perez, and Preyer. But we nuist content ourselves 1)y a bare reference to the fiict, abundantly proved by the writers just mentioned, that not only self-conscious- ness l)ut all the properties of mind, knowing, feeling and willing, appear first in rudimentary and imperfect forms, and graduall)' grow and develop ; and that so far as we can .see these functions with which we are familiar in ourselves, have their counterparts, in various degrees of .strength and vi- vacity, in the mental lives of nuuiy .species of brutes. If then we suppose that not only self-con.sciousness, but also feeling or the consciousness of pleasure and pain, and will or power of voluntary action, are necessary to personality, it will not affect the conchision we have already drawn,— namely, that it is a purely artificial distinction to make {x^rsonality co-extensive with the human race — to limit it to man otdy, and to hold it to be equally approj^riate to the individual human being at the earliest stage of his existence as to the adult in the full possession of his meiUal and bodily powers No psychologist, perhaps, has better expressed the gradual I I iR. :o endeavor r truer and )m the first ,e up to the • developed e of its iii- leld to the one in this I)bock, Ro- Id has also ipeteut oh- ist content ith' proved -conscious- eel ing and forms, and ve can see -^Ives, have h and vi- jrutes. If , but also ind will or lity, it will — naniel}', x;rsonalily man only, individual e as to the \y power-;. le gradual luifoldiiig of the conscious personality than has the author of " In Memoriam :" " The baby new to earth and sky. What time his tender palm is prest Against the circle of the breast, Has never thought that ' this is I.' But as he grows he gathers nnich, And learns the use of ' I' and ' me,* And finds, ' I am not what I see. And other than tlie things I touch." So rounds he io a separate viind broil wheiiee clear n/eiuory may be^'i'n, As thr& the frame that binds hun in His isolation gro-d's dejined." Turning our attention, however, from the limits of person- ality, let us now examine that aspect of it which consists in individual character. In oiu' every-day consciousness we distinguish more or less clearly the ego, or subject of knowl- edge, from the things we know — the objects of knowledge. But the crudest attempt at an analysis of the relations of sub- ject and object makes it manifest that the objects we know are, as siieh parts of our mental life, parts of the stream of impressions w'lich in their relatedness as a series constitute, in Kanlean phraseology, our "empirical ego." But besides these objects (^f perception, there are certain r^-alities known to the subject to exist, though not directly to be ix^rceived l)y it ; such are minds other than itself CUfford called these other minds "ejects," as indicating that they are not "in" the percipient mind as ol)jects are, but rather are realities " out oi " consciousness. The term hardly seems a satisfac- tory one, since these other minds are. as known, as much "in" the minil of tlie knower as are any "objects." The linlh is that those apparently harndess little prepositions, "in" and "out," as used in reference to mental synthesis, are reS])onsible for no slight con firsion of thought. But what we are hero concerned to notice is the apparently absolute f 26 — separation wliicli seems to exist ])et\veen the scries of con- scious states constituting one mind, and llie more or less similar series which make up another. The life of each in- dividuil seems a thing apart — a something impenetrable by all others. " Kach in his hermit cell we live alone." Whether this isolation is as complete as we are disposed to regard it— whether it represents the truth and the whole truth — we shall have occasion to consider later. It is cer- tainly an assumi)lion generally made that the individuality of each person is thorough and inviolable. But it is not individuality as mere separateness of the self which constitutes the most striking feature of personality. It is rather such individuality as the necessary basis for per- sonal character. One man is not only not identical with another, he is also not exactly similar to any other. iCach has his own distinctive marks, mental, moral, and physical, his own habits, ]>references, modes of speech, gesture and action, which make him the man he is, or in popular lan- guage constitute his personality. To character, then, let us turn our attention. If we ask concerning the '" whence " of any man's char- acter we can be referred back to but two sources, — the original nature of the man, and the circumstances under whicii that nature has developed. These two factors then we nuist examine in order to arrive at any rational interpreta- tion of what constitutes individual character. First, let us consi' shown in the preservation and growth of the indivi(Uial mind as in its creation ? If the for- mer proceed by natural means, why not the latter? We nmst, tlierefore, it would seem, conclude that all the qualities and powers that make up an individual's character, so far as they exist potentially in him from the first dawn of life, are inlierited from parents, or through them, from more remote ruicestors. Secondly, we have the scarcely less powerful influence on character which consists in what in its totality we call the environment of the individual. If it is well nigh impossible to reckon up all the factors which determine the inherited character, it is utterly beyond our power to compute all the influences due to the complex surroundings in which in civil- ized society the individual is brought uj). Not only the great moulding forces of national, social and family life, edu- cation climate, and food affect the growing and ever changing character. Kvents so seemingly trifling that they seem hard- ly noticed, — words heard and .soon forgotten — the sight of a beautiful object — the hearing of a terror-inspiring story — any of these may have consequences which inii)rint themselves on the whole after life-history of the child. More or less un- conscious imitation of tho.^e al)out him may aflect the moral character to an indefinite extent, and .sometimes decides the tastes and life-long pursuits more than does any innate and in- heriied aptitude. It is often, indeed, diflicult to say whether — 29 the prevailing 1)eiit of a man's dmracler is more diiL' to iii- lierited qualities or to the innueiices which have sunouiuk-cl him in his earlier years. M. Rihot, in his interesting ))()()k on Heredity, gives in his list of cases of inherited taluiU some exanii-les in which, probably, the true determining force was that of environment. vSuch are the numerous cases referred to where a man of genius has had a son who has followed his father's calling with considerable success, a by no meairs rare occurrence with celebrated painters, politicians, soldiers, etc. We can easily .ste how the constant sight of the parent's success might stinudate the son to follow in the same path, while the father would often be in a position to further his .son's ambition. In such instances it may be hard to sav how nuich is due to inherited talent and how much to favc^r- ing circumstances. No one, probaI)ly, will be disposed to deny that heredity and environment have important influences in determining the personal character of every man. Are they, or are they not, the w/j' factors to be reckoned with. Is it the fact that, given a full and exact knov.ledge of the nature which a man has iidrerited from his ancestors, and given also a knowledge equally complete and detailed of all the circumst.uices which have formed his environment,— his character might be de- duced from lhe.se data with mathematical accuracy, and his action in any given case foretold with the utmost certainty and precision ? This question brings us face to face with that most difficult ethical problem which is usually di>cusse(l under the .somewhat misleading title of " the frtedcm of the will." In view of the importance of will as an element (A personality, we cannot altogether avoid this subject, however hopele.s.s it may seem to try to throw any new light upon this often examined but still obscure theme. Were it not for the ethical difikulties which seem to follow from what is connnonly called the Determinist doctrine, it would probably long ago have met with a reaily acceptance. We willingly grant the enormous influence of innncdiate sur- roundings upon the character, especially in > outh. Moralists thenrselvcs never wearv of dilating on the effects of uood and m l)a(l example upon the child. Nor is it denied tliat VQry many menial and moral cpialilies and apliUides are trans- milted from one generation to another. I'nt when we are asked to go a step farther and to believe, for e.xample, that a thief is a thief simply because his partnts were dishonest, and he thus inherited a tendency to dishonesty which tenden- cy the surroundings in which he was brought up inevitably developed, so that the theft committed was the natin-al and necessary effect of given causes,— Ihis is a conclusion that seems to take from us both the right and the power to form moral judgments. The man is responsible neither for his innate disposilion nor for the circumstances in which he is placed. Can we blame him that the desire for another man's l>roperty was a stronger motive than the restraining desire for right doing, if both desires came from sources quite be- yond his control ? Nay more, can we praise tlie man who resists a temptation to dishonesty if in his case too the supe- rior strength of his concientiou scruples over his covetous desire was merely a natural result of causes in the original production of which he l:ad no share ? And the question is not one of only a theoretical and l-)hilosoi)hical interest, it entails consequences of the utmost practical importance. In fact, mau}^ who never trouble themselves over the general i)rol)leni of Libertarianisni and Determinism are often sorely peqilexed by this question of moral responsibility as it meets them in individual cases. The man who iidierits a drunkard's tastes, the woman reared among impure and degraded associates — these we feel are to be pitied rather than blamed fur their inevitable fall. In such cases we can clearly trace the connecting links between cause and effect. But other instances we meet with in which there are, as we say, no extenuating circumstances. The man of respectable family and well brought up, as far as we can judge, commits some crime that fills us with loathing or contempt. Are we to assume here that there are no de- termining causes, or not rath.er that they are hid from us by the limitations of our knowledge ? Tlie cause is the wicked- ness of the criminal's nature, it will be urged, and our de- — 31 tcstalioii of liis crime is a wholesome and just iiisliiK-t of our more healthy nature. True ; l)ut wlauce came the crimi- luU's wickedness ;— from some jiast indulL;ence in evil ? Very probably, but that is only to u(, back to a previous link in the chain, and we meet a>;ain the cpiestion as to whv he chose to indulge in evil, till at last we are forced to fall b'ack upon the two-fold source of inherited nature and determining environ- ment, for neither of which can the man be held accountable. On the other Imnd, however, when we turn away our at- tention from the conduct of others, and fix it upon Our own inner life, nothing appears more clear and indisputal)le than our p(nver of choice in any >;iven instance in which two or more courses of action are being ctjusidered. Another may sny of me, I know that in such a case you will do so and so, and I either acknowledge the truth of what he says or attri- bute his error to his insufficient knowledge eifhcr of my character or of the circumstances of the supposed case. But, none the less, there is immediately present to my conscious- ness when the time of decision comes the possibility of the alternative course of action. I will do . /, but I could do /y, the very fact of a decision being made implies this. We are free agents, if consciousness of a j^owcr to choose between two or more courses of action constitutes freedom. It is useless to ignore the contradiction of these two \-iews, or to minimize the importance of either side. If we are to .solve the problem it can only be by boldly confronting the antithesis and wresting from it its heart (jf truth. Man Is de- termined, man is conscious of freedom. Unless we acknowl- edge that man's actions are effects of forej^oing causes, we can have no science of ethics. Unless we assume that man is free, we can form no ethical judgments. Let us look first at the latter alternative. Suppose we can form no ethical judgments, what then? This will signify that when we say a man is good or bad we are only ex- pressing, as it were in short hand, the complex ixsults of a number of facts, — often by us known but obscurely or not at all— of his and his ancestor's lives, the total product (;f which we sum up in the word "good," or "bad." The man is — 32 — I wliat lu- is, liis paauts before him were what tluy were, as llie ine\it;il)le n snll of ciieninstances over whieh they had no coiiliol, - for jtroperly si)eakiii^ they cannot be said to have had loulrol over anything. The nniver.^e. in this view, jjresenls the aspects of a vast and coniphcated machine of which the indivi(Uial forms a tiny part, — like a httle cogwheel let ns suppose, — set in motion by the force of the machine and in turn transmitting this force to other poitions of the great mechanism. To praise or blame the wheel for turning in one direction rather than in the other, is absiu'd ; it acts as it nuist act. Resj onsibility rests alone with the maker and controller of the whole machine. Nor isthis\icw one to be lightly set aside with a contempt- nous phrase as "mere fatalism," or denonnced as false and "dangerous." It rei)resentsa mcst imjiortant truth, — a truth which science in the present day cNcrywhere proclaims, and which theology in the i)ast has by no means overlooked. In science we call it the supremacy of I/iw, in religion the om- nipotence of God. Predestination is merely the theological s_\n(Mi}in for determinism. "Shall theclaysay unto the potter why hast thou made me thus?" or, "what hast thou that thou didst not receive, and if thou didst receive it, why dost thou glory ?" expresses just this thought of the incr/tab/encss of a man's character, to which we are led by a .scientific cx- aminalion of the facts. Ihit what shall we say as to the other side of the antithesis — the con.scicusncss of a power of choice, or what we call freedom ? Can this find a place in the scheme of the iniiverse, according to the conception which we have here laid down ? I,et us look again at the metaphor we have just employed. We said the uni\-erse was a huge machiije and the moral re- sponsibility for the actions of its several p'artsniust lie, if any- where, with him who constructed it aii'.l .set it in motion. But this Being himself must, according to the determinist view, act as he is determined to act ; or in Spinoza's words, God acts by the necessity of liis own nature. But if man cannot beheld responsible for his original nature, .so neither can that great Being whom we are supposing to have created and set m — 33 — i.. motion the universe. All moral responsihilitv is (l.us clini: i»alew„ nalnre to en.te so that h.s action is pnuly mechanical,- lu- is hi.nself I.ni one part of a mechanical whole. If, however, abandoning MS conception of a literal Deus ex nuuhhnt, we ass.nne that the universe must have in some way in itself the force that moves It ; if furthermore u. assume-what inVact we know- that some at least of the parts of this mechanism arc consciuns know which way they turn, a.ul can cnmprehe.ul, however miperfectly, that their own particular motion is a necessary parlof thewhole.-ti-n may we not see how it is possible that there should come in a sense of choice in the workings of such conscious parts ? Uihnit/. affirmed that a mao.ietic nct-dle were it conscious, must feel that it had all the points u{ the compass to choose from, and chose to point to the North Moreover, in thisself moving machine of the universe, each sucli conscious part as we have been supiKising woidd be, and tvould be more or less elearly eonseious of beinq, a part of the force which works tlirough the whole. Fortlmu-h we speak of theuniver.se as a machine, the all-importanl characteristic mast be remembered that it derives all its force from itself and not from any external source. As to tlie ultimate origin of force as we find it in the physical world, we are confessed- ly 111 the dark ; but no speculation into the nature and signi- ficance of this world of force and matter can afford to overlook the fact of con.sciou.sne.ss, and that of which consciousness is the manifestation, mind or spirit. Now it is at least pos>ible that in .spirit we may have the motor power of the universe— the original and permanent source of its lorce and energy. If this were the ca.se, it is not difficult to see how .spirit, appear- ing in certain complex parts of the machine, siiould feel itself to be what in truth it is— the moving force, \vhile yet it might not be con.scious that though a part of such fcjrce, it is yet, as a mere part, subservient to the whole, with lu power of acting contrary to the general movement of the whole. The ex- istence of such omnipresent spirit is of course an assump- tion and is incapable of all direct proof, but if it .should render intelligible and hanuonious the contradictions we have — 34 — encountered, it may rank as, at least, a not improbable hy- pothesis. According to the view here very imperfectly sketched, the individual man is determined in his character and actions by the course of nature in the luiiverse, and ultinmtelv by the universal spirit which constitutes the motor force of the uni- verse, and of which the individual spirit is but an infinitesi- mally small part. Man then is determined, just as is any other product of nature, — he is determined by the whole of which he is a part, — but he is free, for he is a part, and a con- scious part, of that Force which determines all nature, him- self included. Can we then retain our moral judgments? We not oidy can, we must ; they, too, follow from our nature and are the inevitable results of the past. On the other hand ethical sci- ence is not incompatible with man's freedom, since his actions are not the less subject to law because found, on a last analy- sis, to be based on the self determination of the Spirit. Here, just as in the previous proljlem of the relation of mind and body, we must not hope to prove that, the very essence of which is, that if true at all it is an ultimate truth, and there- fore not susceptible of direct demonstration. All we can hope for is such a rational conception as is found to accord with the facts, and enables us to see the seemingl)- contradictory sides of the antithesis resolved into a concrete and harmon- ious unity. I^i CHAPTKR V THK PERSONALITY OF GOD. Before passing on to our final problen., let us briefly review the steps already taken in our examination into the nature of personality. Regarding the person, first, as the unit of which man's body and mind are the two corresponch-ng and concomitant aspects, we found that it appeared highlv prob- able that tins " double-sidedness" was not limited To mar, or even to the liiglier forms of animal life, but that wherever we find a material organism, or even a material atom, we may fairly assume that such has a "psychical side." or rudi- mentary potentiality of consciousness. This hypothesis we saw bridged over, or rather fil.'ed up, the otherwise vast chasm between conscious and unconscious life wliicli is so inconsistent with that continuity of progress which modern science teaches us to look for in the course of natural evolu- tion. According to this theory, i-sycliic lite is present throughout all matter at first as a mere potentiality of in- cipient feeling, but becomi-ig more anrl more highlv devel- oped as more and more complex organisms are evolved We tiext considered self-consciousness, which is an essential pari ill tlie concept of personality. We saw tha^ while a rudimentary and isolated .sensitivity may be present in all organisms, it is only when memory is established tliat self- consciousness becomes possible. Even memory, however, we found did not make its appearance suddenly, and fidly formed at once, but api.eared first as merely an inhe; 'ed iii- stinct, .so that while we may affirm the exis.ruce of i. , lory to form the lowest limit at which pensonality is conceivable yet we see that even this indicates not so much a hard and :ast boundary line dividing higher from lower mentality, as the gradual dawn of a clearer psychical life. Personality thiLs is not the characteristic of a certain limited clas.s of or- 36- ganic beings, all of whom eqiiall_v and in t!ie same sense pos- sess it ; rather it is an ideal conception, to which an ever closer approximation is made as a higher stage is reached in the scale of existence. In considering personalitj' as individual character, we saw that this, too, had a perfectly natural origin, being in part traceable to inherited ancestral qualities, and in pan the effect of the complex influences which work upon the individual from the connnenccment of his life. Finallj', taking heredity and environment as constituting the sole causes of any man's character, we endeavored to show what conception of the world was demanded in order to hanaonize the apparently conllicting claims of the consciousness of personal freedom, and the fact of moral character bein"; necessarily determined by antecedent causes. For this we postulated a view of the universe at once mechanical and spiritual. The individual we pictured as a part of the vast machinery, his acts being- inevitable results of the forces at work in the whole. Yet that man is conscious of a freedom of choice is accounted for, if, remembering that the luiiverse must have its motor power within itself, we assume this inner force to be spiritual, since then those parts of the mechanism which are self-conscious are, and just in so far as their self-consciousness is developed consciously are, themselves a part of the force which animates the whole. This view is completely in harmony with what we have before .seen of the gradual dawn and increase of personality in the animal kingdom. And here, to make our meaning clearer, let us take as examples three living things in the world, representing three widelj' different stages of or- ganic development, —a plant, one of the higher animals, and a man. All three alike share in the spiritual life of the uni- verse, all act in accordance with its laws. Each has both a psychical and a physical side. But while we may assume the plant to be wholly devoid of self-consciousness, and there- fore to have no feeling of choice, the animal may l)e sup- posed to possess a vague and rudimentary self consciousness and a correspondingly undeveloped feeling of choice, while in the civilized, adult man the consciousness of .self is thor- ~37 — Such is the accotiut that has been uivc, of tho -^ ccnprehensive sphere of neril^^H^.^ ^p,^ :,;;;; the force which moves i„ the universe to U. esse,. i^Iy sn t we are ,n fact accepting a philosophical Panthd^ V' ' n. In ; "';■ r'''"^ ''"^^■" ^>''^ ^^ ^^- >--v-^> ^ - oSh^ fe^u::^ ^^' T' '' '" ^^■•^'"^' ^"^' PerpetuaUource ottlielikof the world, wo are driven to identifv this life "s Force th.s Soul of the universe, with God! S .1 wJ rl^lo'tT' ''r''7 "'^ ^"^^^'^'" ^^-^ •-'>■ ^-^ -^ ad. nnter i tl" '" ''V""J"^^ -f-red to in a previous of 7 r ■'■ , ' ^'l^I^''^'-^'"t'>' tola! i-^hUion and separateness of each nuhv.dual self-cons, thoughts, all the nudtitude of consciou^ .nd^nd i - scuH. states that UKd^e up my past ant s<. thorough-going as we are apt „> su.pi.e ll.cMi^i,ence of envu-onment consists in the effect ofadjaeent rail, ol the universe of things upon the iny the nature of the objects IhrouKh which it nmst tak. its ■ourse. And if the self-conscious sj.irit of man is a vation -3S- of the whole force of the universe, he has, moreover, a com- mon substratum which he shares with all his fellow creatures. He is, then, not merel}' like his fellows, he is in the fullest sense 07ie 7vith them — one with Natiu'c herself. And here phil- osophical speculation has only brought us by slow steps with- in sight of a truth which the greatest poets of all ages, but especially of our own, have grasped by the strength of an intuitive insight. It might be shown how this community of the spirit of man with the spirit of the universe is exhibited in our higher aesthetic feelings, —we might see how it rendcn-i intelligibly the ai^parent antinomies of sense-perception, — how it explains our sensitiveness to the sufferings of others, and how it constitutes ate i e both the source and the justifi- cation of our highest religii, ,;: tions. But these questions lie beyond our present mark. '.' nuist here restrict ourselves to a brief examination as to wheiner or not personality, such as we have hitherto found it, can with any true significance be applied to that spiritual, inner, life of the universe, to the coi ception of which it has itself led us. This v,'e will now consider. Let us take the case of a human personality, as being its most typical and generally recognized form. Man, we saw, consisted of mind and body, which are the two aspects under which \\\^ personality present'^ itself. If tliere be an all-per- suading spirit in the universe, — an eternal mind of which the mind of man is at once an outcome and a symbol, — then we cannot f;nl to .«ee how this mysterious concomitance of mind and body in the human person has its magnificent C(>unter- part in the all-comprehensive unity of spirit and matter in which the Infinite Being of the universe is revealed. The whole physical universe, including not otdy all that science has opened up to us of far distant worlds, but the infinite ex- tent of space itself and all that it contains, are the external Form in which is inc '"'' "'"">• »'■« that all ,„,ter T'-"^ "'"""'" '""'^ ''^Pothe- possess nerve ceils a,,,! ni, -i ^ '''''"''"''' '''■K-"'''«I 1" ".Sanisn, „, ,easl a, ft "il t7"' r^' ""'■ "'^'^ ""' '^^ '"ental ""h'ke, and as i,„l,f ■ , """""• '"« a material basis as "rain, asthei'f '.;:;;:;■;;;- r « "-• •>.^- 1....;,,;,: atom ? "*- "'<■■ slrnetmeless matter of il,„ scionsness „s an sse T 7'^"""" '" """*"'" ^'f-'"'- .^■^ we have indieat:: "; r o ;:'::;',::, •::,';"-•?"- '-». ways appears as sennr ,f„ r ■'"'""="' self eonscon.sness al- -g". N, r can w^i n ,, ""'"■^-- I"'"'"! I,y ,„e „„„. tations and vet e ,■„'"*"" •''^ ''"^ ''"'" -''I' H."i- "■■iversal n.ind ca n ""'••^™"snes,s of self ,in, n,o "ot.self, since t ™ | "'''"°'"' '" '"■■ "»- '"'"'ed hy a i"fiMi,n Sncl, .„, ' 'I V "'' '" '''"" questions that n,eft us an.l , ' ^ """" "' '^. '"■■■'''«"'« place onr belief in a live n ' "'"'''"'"^ '' "e would --ai, o,, a firn,;,i;„:::;,;:;:,,tsrr'' '""■'= ''''^'"'^- -■'' '-■- In endeavoring to nicl these ..hiections la „. 1, • , — 40 tainable on oilier o rounds, renders intelligible many otherwise inexplicable facts in respect to our emotional and moral na- ture, our perception of external things, and the relations of natural things to one another. That scientific men, totally free from theological bias,— even rather disposed to discredit any theorx' that might serve as a buttress to religious dogma, recognize in force something which points to such an absolute spirit, is at least a noteworthy circumstance. A single quo- tation from Mr. Spencer may serve to illustrate this trend of thought : " If we take the highest product of evolution, civilized .so- ciety, and ask to what agency all its marvels must be cred- ited, the inevitable answer is : To that unknown cau.se of '.vliich the entire Cosmos is a manifestation." Of this "Unknown Cause," Mr. Spencer further states that the question in regard t - "• f-' "f that s.lf„,a„ir..s. Her„„, selr.ex.c,.n.,l,>„ , , ■7""'- '" ""s view „,e f«'--'fo„ i„ ,|,e „,„^. „ , ;.,^" "- ""•;■<■.•,! will, i„,„„„i. .' ye. u,ol,„,c,s „„■„ ..„, '^' i,,' ;'" •'-« ->•''•-■ ^.-s ,„fi„i,i 1»-' 'l.e difficuUv „f ^I'^i^^ l™- ll.is s,a„„. entmM ,„ „,,,„ ,•,,„ ,, , , '^^ ■-""«'>"le spi.-i, „,, .Hff,,. /'"^"y : we must kwu- f i'™""""' ""*«l"-s. I).V„„ty. TO,,.,, '^ .l"ll""P0„,O,pl,ic Vicv of („c. •'••■'''■ei»spine,a,,■' "<>' to <1„, as i„ i,,r; ! ' ' ■"■""■■ "f «'"'• "0 -urce., of His character, I, ,/,'''";■ """ '''--«... or »Hh the so„l of the ...m-esetn I ■'"""''"'• "'-■ "''-■ 'fe"'!"^ '■""ceived. No,.,.a,Mvci ,a!. e .r '"'''""'"« ™" '- the I.,fi„ile,-,.a,her it co • " „T°","' "'" ""■'■l"P."c..,t i„ I»-iWlity of the Whole e", in o;""; '•" "''''■ "'"'"'-' -"- life. If, houevcr,," " ,° ;;r"'""' '"""' ™" -"- IJivnie Spirit, the,, ,h, , , ' , '^ '"■'" '■* n tyjie of the »i- l«rl.s i„ tl,e .„e„tal hfe of a„i„' ? '"', ""l"-''"^'^' ™""ter- al.so tl,eir perfect a,,,, ^^"t^" "',"" ""'■*'>-• '■»- "■"-nsal Spi,it i„ vvl,ich ve r,'", " '"""= "^ '"»' ''«■■«■ How fa„|ty „„., dofecli ve o ;; !' l"""' ^""' ''■•'>-^- °'"- sonahly „,a,, or rall,er muT, VI ■ '°'"-'" "°""" "f I'"- !.>• i"a,lec,„ale to rep,ese„t pl , f „ ''■''.' " " '" """' "tter- •■.Pl-h-catio,, of a CO, cept ";,;';'"" '""•'""'''• f™"' -"■ 1'a.iso,, of C.ite ,hi„„ t, t ha 'r r T """"''"' '''' " »"- "-'f an these finite ."ole 11 f ''^:^t^.::':.;; ™"™-^^ ■■" »t.Lio .such concepts uv — 42 — are necessarily limited, we can only describe that which reaches out beyond all knowledge in terms of what we can more fully grasp. Nor can we regard ourselves as erring if we ascribe to the Divinity which shapes the ends of the whole course of nature, whatever in the human soul seems greatest and purest and best to that soul itself. "Thou, dread source, Prime, self-existing Cause and End of all That in the scale of being fill their place, Above our human region, or below, vSet and sustained Thou, Thou alone Art Everlasting, and the blessed spirits ]l7iom thou inchidcst as the sea her waves : For adoration thou endurest ; endure For consciousness the motions of thy will ; For apprehension those transcendent truths Of the pure intellect, that stand as laws (Submission constituting strength and power) Even to thy Being's infinite majesty !" ( 1 Vordsii 'orth ' ^ Excursion . )