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PAG« 5 Metaphysics ■ The Basis of the Peductive Sciences ^^ Metaphor in Mental Science ^^ 25 The Circle of the Sciences • Elements of Religion as traced in Human Nature : Part I.— Of Human Nature ^^ •• II.— Of Self^culture ^^ •' III.— Of Charity ^^ «. IV.— Of Faith ^^ 49 Volition and Responsibility Thtt " Words of the Preacher." 65 Some Things About Bacon Wordsworth's Theory of Poetry ^4 English Verse-forms Analysis of English Vowel-sounds ^2 A.*---' METAPHYSICS. s In f;hought, as in all other kinds of human action, there is a primary tendency toward right methods and a secondary tendency toward wrong methods. The tendency of thought toward certain wrong xnethods seems to be caused by a kind of innocent egoism which we may call philosophic egoism. We are so constituted that things about us, things to which we are closely related, appear to us more important than things to which we are less closely related. Bj nature we seem to see ourselves morally, physically, and intellectually, at the centre and apex of this universe : and it is only by slow degrees in the gradual progress of education that we unlearn this natural error. Of the moral part or aspect of it I shall speak in another place. Of the physical, nothing need be said, were it not that it may typify the spiritual. Every one knows how we mentally correct the picture given in vision by allowing for perspective. In a sense, all error is intellectual inasmuch as all knowledge is intellectual. Intellect is the organ of it. But all knowledge that is immediately useful has some physical or spiritual subject. Metaphysical knowledge, i. e., knowledge concerning the nature and basis of our knowledge, is more peculiarly intellectual in that intellect and its operations are the subject of it. It is not the less useful that it is mediately useful. All study of method is mediately useful. Until we 6 METAPHYSICS. have a clear consciousness of our relation as knowing subjects to the objects of our knowledge, problems really simple will present themselves to us perverted and distorted in the most bewildering manner imagin- able, and almost defy solution. An illustration, — it is really an example of the error in its physical phase — is the Ptolemaic theory. Not until men learned at least to suspect something more of the mobility and insignificance of this earthly ball than is revealed to the naked eye, was it possible for them not to mistake the orderly procession of the system for a whimsical gambol. The error, in its metaphj^sical phase, may be defined as an unsuspecting confidence in the sufficiency of certain of our fundamental concepts, and a disposi- tion to speculate upon them and combine them into axioms, instead of defining them. A fine illustration is the remark of the man who said that if the world ti^rned round, east would come to be west after a while. It seemed to him that his ideas of east and west would be utterly unaflfected even by so revolu- tionary a proceeding as that. Illustrations equally fiine have, however, been aflforded by more famous metaphysicians. Dr. Brown, in his celebrated theory of cause and eflfect, assumed that he had a clear conception of a relation between cause and effect, whereof, according to his own showing, neither heaven above nor earth beneath afforded a single example ; yet he never asked himself, noi', so far as I have heard, did any one ever ask him, how he had come by it. Another example is the suggestion made, by Mill, I believe, that two straight lines might possibly enclose a space in some other order of things. He forgot that these concepts belong to the present order of things, and that until they sufifer some change it will always METAPHYSICS. cnowm^ )robleiris erverted imagin- tion, — it lal phase arned at lity and ealed to mistake himsical may be ifficiency L disposi- lem into astration le world I after a east and o revolu- er, been r. Brown, assumed between showing, fforded a ', noi", so bim, how by Mill, y enclose rgot that f things, 11 always be the present order of things, so far as they are concerned ; and when such change takes place they will be different things. He forgot that our concepts are provisional and temporary, being provided to represent phenomena, and dependent upon our relation to those phenomena for their value and authenticity. When that relation changes, they change; when it ceases, they cease. Yet he makes a supposition which utterly destroys that relation, and quietly assumes the concepts to be valid still. A similar absurd attempt to carry our concepts beyond their legitimate sphere, is the well known question concerning substance, whether, if all its qualities were eliminated, there would be any remain- der. It is not enough to say that no one can answer the question. No one can rationally ask it. We do not know enough about that which we call substance to know what we are asking. It is that which underlies qualities. But what is a quality ? Quale means " what is it like." Quality is the likeness of a thing to something. Now if a thing have no quality, if it be absolutely like nothing, will it not be nothing ? It need not, however, be like something else in order to have quality. It is enough if it be like itself. Now, if a thing be not even like itself, in any respect, it — but this gets too deep for us. The celebrated argument, by which Des Cartes proved his own existence, is also a fine example. It implies that the " cogitator " *has a full knowledge not only of both cogitare and esse, but also of their relations. In that case one fails to see why he might not as well predicate sum, as cogito, in the first instance. The typical question of Metaphysics is that con- cerning our own existence, or the existence of things. It implies that the questioner has a full knowledge of 8 METAPHYSICS. what existence is, apart altogether from any existence of his own ; for the point raised in his mind is whetlier the outward phenomenon corresponds with his ich'a. The solution of it may also be typical. He should rather enquire whether his idea corresponds with the phenomenon. When we remember that th(B idea of existence is merely a mental image of the state of things reported to us in consciousness, we see at once that the idea of proof is wholly irrelevant. The name is a vocable which we use to denote that state of things. When the astronomer discovers a comet and calls it Medusa, he does not sit down to consider whether or not that comet is Medusa. If he did he would do precisely as those do who doubt the existence of things. The question is not a dead one, it is still gravely considered by more than one professional chair on this continent. It comes under the head of theory of perception. The same doubt exists, too, as to the reality of things. If the salt have lost its saltness, wherewith shall it be salted ? When we have translated the phrase wholly into one language, and find that the doulit is " de B,E-alit(jite RE-rtcm," or whether things are really like things, we begin to have some insight into the nature of Metaphysics, and to see how it is that the eifect of introducing terms from foreign tongues in metaphysical discussion is so fine- Bacon's treatment, of this class of questions is masterly, as we would expect. " It seemeth to mo," he remarks, and the previous context shows that lie felt he was propounding a novel theory, " that the true and fruitful use (leaving vain subtleties and speculations) of the enquiry of majority, minority, priority, posteriority, identity, diversity, possibility, act, totality, parts, existence, privation, and tlie like, are but wise cautioi\s against ambiguities of speech." META PHYSIOS. xistonco whether his idea. B should with the idea of state of at once nt. The bat state a comet consider ) did he Bxistence t is still fessional 3 head of eality of herewith he phrase he doubt linfjs are tight into t is that tongues istions is i to mo," s that ho that the ;ties and minority, )ssibility, the like, speech." " That is all very fine, no doubt, and Bacon was a very wise man, and it is very necessary to define carefully ; but what has that to do with the question whether or not I really perceive things as they exist ? " It has this to do with it : it means that the only use of such a question is to define the terms of it — that if we define propeiiy the words " really," " perceive," " things," " exist," we shall see that there is no such question. " Exist " means to be in the state of things reported to us in consciousness. *' Things " are phenomena reported to us in consciousness. " To perceive things " means to have such phenomena so reported to us. The question then is, whether we really have phenomena reported to us in consciousness, as they are in the state in which they are reported to us in consciousness. For my part, I am quite of the opinion that we do. Another result of this over-confidence in the validity of our concepts is seen in various theories of innate ideas and intuitive truths, and in a proneness to deductive philosophising and a disposition to over- estimate the function of the deductive method. The condition of deduction is perfect knowledge, and we are always ready to assume that our knowledge is sufficient. So natural does it seem to assume this that we often fail to see that it is an assumption. It is even a common doctrine of philosophy at this time, that the ultimate basis of knowledge is to be looked for not in the inductive method but in the deductive. But no fundamental truth, whatever, can be in the deductive method, for every truth given in the deduc- tive method is, of necessity, based upon prior knowledge. " Arguments consist of propositions, and propositions of words, and words are but the current marks or tokens of popular notions of things ; A^hich notions, if they be grossly and variably collected out of particulars " logic cannot " correct that error, being. 10 METAPHYSICS. as the physicir .s ^pe .k, in the first digestion." When Des Cartes haf I ir all his beliefs upon the shelf, he was able, by An^ng his fundamental concepts, to reconstruct thu a again with great facility. He left, as deductive thinkers generally do, the " first diges- tion " to take care of itself. He did not begin at the beginning. There is an appearance of self-sufficiency and mastery about the deductive method which faooiiiates. Induction involves a patient attention to little things, which, to the natural man, seems somewhat childish, because, to his self-sufficient mind, the things seem unimportant. Deduction is more subjective, it exer- cises the rational powers more fully, and is less dependent on external things. In the progress of the world's education it was inevitable that Aristotle should precede Bacon. The question, what is the nature and function of the deductive method, and the subjects of innate ideas and self-evident truths, it will be more convenient to consider in another essay. ' When shelf, he cepts, to He left, •st diges- in at the THE BA'SIS OF THE DEDUCTIVE SCIENCES. ncy and fttooiiiaijes. )le things, childish, ngs seem , it exer- d is less ess of the Aristotle motion of nate ideas ^enient to With keen, primitive insight, an ancient apoph- thegm speaks of man as the measure of all things. Upon every measure there are certain marks which we may here call conditions of the measure. Now, it is competent for us to say that if a phenomenon fulfil certain of these conditions it will also fulfil certain other of the conditions. We acquire no knowledge of phenomena thus, but we have prepared ourselves to make one item of knowledge, two, when it shall be acquired. This is the function of deductive science. Suppose, now, that the measure were applied to phenomena and a number of measurements recorded in another series of marks upon it. It is obvious that any argument concerning these would be ham- pered by the consideration that the objects might be incorrectly or inadequately represented. It would be an imperfect representation oi a thing real, while one of the other series would be a perfect representation of a thing imaginary ; and it would be only concerning the thing imaginary that deductive argument would be possible. This supei-structure of metaphor, though somewhat rickety, may perhaps convey to the unsophis- ticated mind a notion of the nature and function of deductive science, better than any abstract terms could do. The conditions of a measure determine its applic- ability. Tlie applicability of the human measure is obviously determined by the various senses and sensibilities through which knowledge comes to us ; and those conditions of it which are capable of 12 THE BASIS OF THE DEDUCTIVE SCIENCES. becoming the subjects of deductive argument, are the ideals which are the inevitable accompaniments of these sensibilities. A sensibility to musical sounds, for example, involves the existence of musical ideals. They are, indeed, a part of the sensibility ; for it is in a peculiar sensitiveness to those qualities of sound which consti- tute the ideals that that sensibility consists. Now this sensibility puts one into coinmunion with nature, and enables him to observe and gather facts. That is inductive science. On the other hand, the ideals are the source of the laws of musical criticism. Music, to be pleasing, must conform to these ideals. Its laws are deduced from them, and that is deductive science. There are also our other senses, physical and psychical, as the sense of smell, taste, touch ; or the sense of humor, of the sublime anwer of \ act of 3y have 3. The 1 world lout it. lorxiena, ^ could it take concepts them. a certain pleasure in the resemblance, but it finds its labor lightened by so much, as when a copyist puts a couple of dots for a lengthy description. The idea of Equality is no more to the mind than any other idea, except as it may be taken advantage of to save labor. Hence the mind adopts the ideal. We shall find it still more easy to account for the constitutional concept of a straight line. A Straight Line is the apparent course of Vision. This involves two things : I'irst, it appears to the eye as a point. Second, it is such that an object invariably appears larger as we approach to it, and smaller as we recede from it. By this definition we can at once prove that two straight lines cannot enclose a space. For if they could, we might place the eye at one of the points of contact or section, and see the whole perimeter of the space, yet see only a point, wherein is no space enclosed, ^n the same manner we may prove that two straight lines cannot coincide in part without coinciding altogether. These points are amply provided for by the com- mon definition of a straight line. But there is another difficulty, for which they make no provision. There is another and greater gulf fixed in the early pathway of geometers which has never yet been bridged by any thing so respectable as even the 'pons asino'i'um. In some editions of Euclid the difficulty is met by an axiom ; namely, that two straight lines cannot be drawn through the same point, parallel to the same straight line, v/ithout coinciding. But this is manifest fraud. Euclid himself, more honorably, met it by a postulate, a plain confession that the thing had baffled him. A postulate should, however, be something in its nature not susceptible of proof. He asked us to admit, that when a straight line falling upon two other straight lines makes the interior angles upon one side less than two right angles, the two lines shall, if produced, meet I'.tJ 16 THE BASIS OF THE DEDUCTIVE SCIENCES. upon that side. This, it will be seen, is the converse of the proposition, that any two angles of a triangle are together, less than two right angles. Neither postulate nor axiom is needed but once ; namely, to prove that lines which are parallel to the same straight line are parallel to each other. It matters not which we use, for by either we can prove the other. The real problem is the same in each ; and may, indeed, be put into a variety of other forms, apparently different, yet ever the same sphinx riddle emerges from them all. A recent geometer makes this difficulty the point where Geometry branches into three parts, dealing with three different kinds of space, in one of which the three angles of a triangle are together greater than — in another, equal to — in a third, less than— two right angles. Now Geometry is not the science of space. It has nothing to do with space. It is the science of Ideal Forms. Triangles and circles are not spaces, but forms. Their size is of no account to the geometer, but their shape, or form. A line or plane superficies occupies no space, and belongs to no particular space. Even solid figures are not spaces, but figures ; that is, forms. But to return. An object invariably subtends a larger angle of vision .^hen it is near at hand than when it is more remote. Therefore, of two objects which subtend the same visual angle, that which is near is invariably less in that dimension of it which subtends the angle, than that which is more remote. Therefore, any two lines of vision starting from the eye, diverge con- tinually ; that is to say, lines that converge, converge continuously, up to the point of section. Hence, it is obvious that convergent lines at any finite distance from each other, must meet if produced far enough. Therefore, parallel lines do not converge, but are 3. mverse riangle Neither nelv, to jtraight which •. The indeed, arently merges e point dealing £ which greater m — two ience of is the 3 are not ; to the )r plane ; to no b spaces, ingle of is more bend the variably le angle, any two rge con- jonverge [ice, it is distance enough, but are THE BASIS OF THE DEDUCTIVE SCIENCES. 17 equidistant. By this we can readily prove that lines which are parallel to the same, are parallel to each other. Consider now what basis is necessary to construct the science of Geometry. We need : (I) Definitions of Terms ; and we ask no permission to use whatever terms are thought necessary, if only they be clearly defined and consistently used. (2) One Postulate : Let it be granted that any figure whether possible or impos- sible, may be imagined to exist and be represented by a diagram. Not a very difiicult postulate. All Geometric figures are imaginary. Practically, drawings assist our weaker capacity, but theoretically, the only pur- pose of them is to afibrd a nomenclature. (8) Some truths from the science of Quantity. To give a plane or solid figure a certain form, it is necessary to give its angles a certain size and its boundary lines a certain ratio of length. For these things we must have help from the science of Quantity. The truths needed for this purpose are all easily proved, as we have seen, by definitions given above. On this basis then, of Definitions and Postulate, the science of Geometry is of absolute authority. Any definition is absolute proof within its own limits. But the science of Geometry claims something more. It claims, or at least should claim, that inasmuch as its fundamental definitions are based upon important facts in the constitution of man, it has deep and vital relations with human life. Its principles are not merely conventional and arbitrary, like those of chess for example. And the above definitions indicate this fact, and attach the science to the facts of life. They do so because they are formed on the only scientific prim iple of definition, the principle of the relativity of knowledge. They show how the thing defined is related to man. IS THE BASIS OF THE DEDUCTIVE SCIENCES. With respect to a straight line, indeed, no other definition is adequate ; no other adequate definition is possible. To be adequate, it must involve, first, that straight lines are such that two cannot coincide in more than one point without coinciding altogether ; and second, that they are such that two which do not meet, if produced, are eciuidistant. Now, we cannot prove, and we have no right to assume, that the two things are compatible. To be sure everybody knows that they are ; but what everybody knows is nothing to the Geometer. He wants proof. other lition is st, that icide in i^ether ; do not cannot he two knows nothing METAPHOR iN MENTAL SCIENCE. Suppose a number of persons enclosed for life in a row of similar and similarly furnished cells. Suppose them neither to know, nor have any means of know- ing, what each other's apartments are like, any more than a conjecture that they are probably all of the same type, but to have a common outlook. Suppose them to be able to converse freely, and to have a complete nomenclature for all the objects within their common view. Having exhausted all the available subjects for conversation afforded by these objects, their curiosity is aroused concerning each other's apartments. How shall they proceed ? One of them, wishing to speak of a particular object in his cell, looks for something outside where all can see, having a resemblance to the article within, directs his neigh- bour's attention to that, and tells him of something like it. His neighbour, having observed the object as directed, finds at once a resemblance to the corres- ponding article in his own cell, and thus a connexion is established. The article is now known by the name of its external type. In this way names would be given to everything in the cells ; and their system of communication would embrace, not only the great external world, but also the little miniature worlds, whereof each had one to himself. It is in this way that we name the things we see by the light of consciousness in our minds ; from a likeness or analogy or relation to outward, sensible things. How else could we possibly name them ? We may attach any vocable to a material object for a 20 METAPHOR IN MENTAL SCIENCE. name, because we have unmistakeable indications of what it is to represent. But we cannot put our finger on the phenomena of consciousness. We can only call them up to our neighbour by mentioning their likeness to something else. A thought from the inner life of man, once finding expression thus in fitting metaphor, wakes the same thought in every mind that receives it ; and thenceforth becomes a living and working principle in language. Talk about such things " coming down from the schoolmen !" They come out of the soul of every one that uses them. The schoolmen may have meant anything by them for aught we know, but we mean by them what we feel within us ; that or nothing. By this process all the faculties of mind have been named and classified. Here we have a system of prac- tical Psychology which has the double advantage of being the result of unconscious (i. e., un-selfconscious) thinking, and the joint production of innumerable thinkers, which none of the professed systems can ever displace. Who, for instance, would estimate a man's mental powers on the basis of Sir William Hamilton's classification ? The world may be willing enough to follow him in what it calls theory, but in practice, like some stupid, wise, old grandam, it prefers to walk by its own light. We may note here the corollary that philosophers should seek light from the usages of common speech on this subject. The primal division of the practical powers of the soul — into head and heart, or cognitive and conative — has been thoroughly understood by philosophers as well as gossips. But in the classifica- tion of the powers of intellect there are one or two points that the gossips, have clearly apprehended, which the philosophers have as yet failed to grasp. In appraising a man's gifts of intellect, how common it is to say that he has a splendid memory but no i METAPHOR IN MENTAL SCIENCE. 21 judgment, or that his judgment is good but his memory not so good as it might be : i. e., we include all the powers of intellect except memory under one creneral head. The perceptive power is one and the same whether acting with memory in recollection or reminiscence, or by ^itself in forming a concept, a judgment, or an inference, or in that more rare and peculiar act of discernment which constitutes inventive genius, or creative imagination, or detects a principle widely applicable, in a few phenomena — shoots it, so to speak, like a flash of crystallization, away into unex- plored regions, there to be a base for new formations and departures. Something like this doctrine is found in Sir William Hamilton's doctrine of consciousness ; but it is in a scarcely satisfactoiy form. Of course the philosopher understands this as well as the gossip when he turns gossip himself, in his unconscious moments, if he has any. It is only when he puts on his philosophic spectacles that he fails to see it. The nomenclature of mind is then a natural outgrowth of the nomenclature of matter. From this fact we derive the rules for its use. Suppose that one of our prisoners* should by mistake use the wrong word in speaking of the internal thing and confusion arise, it is evident that there must be a return to the typical external in order to identify the article meant, and enable the conversing parties to make sure that they understand each other. This would make it desirable that, except in the case of things so continually spoken of that mistake would be impossible, one word should be used to signify both. So the names of mental things should retain a trace of their origin There should be in them an unmistakeable su^'^estion of the metaphor, first in order to give beginners a clue to our meaning, and second, to give life and reality to our thoughts for learners of all ages, to make our words suggest things. It is not for nothing that 22 METAPHOR IN MENTAL SCIENCE. language grows by natural law. When a now nu^aning is added to a word, the old is a kind of ch(!(fk or balance to the new. It makes us perceive thc^ new idea as it was first perceived, which is sure to luj the best way. This advantage is lost if a new term bo adopted. Thus, had we instead of tho two terms " conscience " and " consciousness," one word with tho two meanings, we should understand conscienoi) bettor. The confusion which such double meanings produce is mainly 'maginary. They ought to cause confuwion, according to all the, rules of sound deductive^ philo^ sophising, but they do not. Hence we find that in common speech, where natural laws are least interfered with, all words and phrases pertaining to mind, except a few which occur very frequently, are metaphors, " still fluid and florid." And even in the excciptional cases we continually vary the phrase by introducing a metaphor, as though our very thouglits wcu'o metaphorical. Philosophers, on the other hand, have complained of the use of metaphor in mental Hcionce, as though that were the chief evil in connexion with it, instead of being the only thing that has saved it from utter ruin and scholasticism. Our conceptions of material things are intuitive, and we name them by names merely conventional. Our conceptions of those mental things whereof wo have a clear consciousness are also intuitive, btit wo name them by symbols ; that is to nay, the names which we give them, we give in virtue of some previous meaning, — they are not mere, but Rymbolic. But there are many things connected with mind of which we are not at all, or at most but very vagucjly and dimly, conscious. Such are the ettects of education upon the mind, or of a religious life upon the soul. Of these things and such as these, oven our conceptions are symbolic ; the so-called idea is a sign by which we represent an unknown quantity, We 3N0E. METAPHOR IN MENTAL SCIENCE. 23 1 a now mnanin|[^ ncl of vMvvk or rceivo tlu^ now s sure to ha tlio a new term be the two terms 3 word witli tlio )n.science better. anin^'H prorhico cause confufciion, lecluctiv(^ pbilo' we find that in least interfenul to mind, except are inetapboi's, the exceptional by introducing thoufjfhtH were )ther hand, have 1 mental s(;iencc, connexion with hat has naved it 's are intuitive, ly conventional, ngs whereof wo ntuitive, but wo say, the names virtue of some e, but symbolic. I with mind of at very va^'uely the effects of igious life upon 5 these, even our id idea is a sign quantity. We know not the thing itself but its conditions or results, and by these we think it. Hence though in dealing with phenomena which consciousness reports clearly, we might after a time be able to drop metaphor, yet here we must have it to represent our ideas to ourselves. Our thoughts seem to melt away into thin air when we try to avoid it. Nothing can be more baffling than the attempt. To illustrate : Space, as the place of bodies, belongs to the world of matter, and is an intuitive conception. Time is an intuitive conception to the extent of our experience, and for the rest a symbolic conception. When we " look far back into other years," notice how inevitably time becomes a stream, a train, a course, or the like. We cannot even in thought turn to the great names of liistory but they will be beacon lights twinkling in long succession or the like ; they will dance you to tune of some fantastic metaphor, do what you will. This pretty passage from '•' The Mill on the Floss '* is highly illustrative : — " It was Mr. Stillman's favorite metaphor that geometry and classics constituted that culture of the mind which prepared it for the reception of any subsequent crop It is astonishing what a different result one gets by changing the metaphor. Once call the mind a mental stomach, and the ingenious conception of the classics and geometry as ploughs and harrows seems to settle nothing. But it is open to anyone else to call the mind a sheet of white paper, or a mirror, in which case ones knowledge of the digestive processes becomes wholly irrelevant." Yet how is one to escape metaphor ? If a metaphor be purely artistic in its purpose, it must, of course, be symmetiical. In rant, a mixed metaphor cannot be endured. But when metaphor is used, not for ornament but for expression, there is no law against mixing. Bead Hamlet upon Osaric : — " Thus has he and many more of the same bevy that I 24 METAPHOR IN MENTAL SOIENCJE. ?4 :„'/ know the drossy age doats on, only got the tune of the time and outward habit of encounter ; a Jdnd of yesty collection that carries them through and through the most /b??(Z and winnowed opinions; do but hloio them to their f riaZ the bubbles are out." Beside this, it were comparatively easy to " take arms against a sea of troubles. Yet the thought is admirable ; and not only so, but the manner is matchless ; every word tells; every new metaphor adds a new idea. Its surpassing excellence is that you never think of the manner, but give your whole strength to the thought. Read, again, Col. ii. 7, " So walk ye in him rooted and built up in him and stablished in your faith even as ye were taught" Here, too, the metaphor is the perfect expression of the thought, and it is no more. The balance between the two is perfectly held. Man begins in spiritual science, by speaking in metaphor and thinking in metaphor, and so gets poesy for knowledge. Failing this, he rushes away to the opposite extreme of abstract thought and abstract speech, 'and gets metaphysics for knowledge. Finding this a worse failure than the other, he settles down toward the golden mean of pure thought and metaphorical expression, INOE. rot the tune of nter ; a kind of igh and through 18 ; do but hlow " Beside this, arms against a admirable; and ess ; every word new idea. Its ver think of the to the thought. 1 him rooted and 3ur faith even as netaphor is the id it is no more, ectly held. Man ing in metaphor I gets poesy for es away to the ght and abstract wledge. Finding :', he settles down ire thought and ^ * THE CIRCLE OF THE SCIENCES. All knowledge is either knowledge of matter, or knowledge of mind. This is the first general division of knowledge. Again, all knowledge is either sub- jective or objective. We may study matter directly, by observation, or we may study it indirectly, by studying our forms of sense perception ; and we may study man as the abstract human being, or as " that various creature, man ;" in the structure of his mental constitution, or in the practical working of that con- stitution, with its endless varieties, in every day life. We have thus a double two-fold division of science, giving these four parts : First, the Objective-Material, Physical Science ; Second, the Subjective-Material, Mathematics ; Third, the Subjective-Spiritual, Mental Science ; Fourth, the Objective-Spiritual, Humanity, or the science of men. The first three of these four departments are commonly spoken of as branches of science ; their individuality, so to speak, has been sufficiently recognized. It is not so, I think, with the fourth. Yet it is not a mere sweeping together of promiscuous remnants. It has its parts as firmly bound together by broad and important principles, as any of the others. The various sciences which go to make up this branch difier widely as to the amount of genuine matter which they contain. Some are all kernel and no husk, and some are pretty much all husk ; and there are not a few who, blinder than Bunyan's man with the mucki'ake, value a science just in proportion as it furnishes husks. in ! 26 THE CIRCLE OF THE SCIENCES. The first place belong^s to the science of human nature, as we study it in the living specimen. Apparently it will never be reduced to a formal science, because it seems, the better part of it, to be a kind of understanding in sympathy which eludes every attempt to put it into words. Hence every one must go to the originals for himself. It is always in its primary stage of original investigation. Men may read Shakespeare, and yet go away and straightway write Sunday school books, whose philosophy of man is something like this : A man is either good or not good, that is, bad ; a good man will do what is good, and a bad man will do what is bad ; it is foolish to do what is bad, therefore the bad man is foolish and the good man wise and sensible 1 It is comforting to reflect that when many shall run to and fro and knowledge shall be increased, when there shall be nothing else to learn of which some votary shall not stand ready and anxious to teach, this best and greatest of the sciences will always be fresh and inviting to the investigator who wishes to be independent. Of the rest we can only indicate the order in the most general manner. Among the first may be named the study of mobs or assemblies of any sort. There are few more interesting subjects for oi3servation and study than an assembly of men when interested or excited. But we study it in vain, unless we catch upon our sympathy the feeling which makes the individual mind surrender, to some extent, its individuality, and which still guides it as part of the wliole. Next may come the study of habit, or settled modes of action adopted by single nunds. Next, tlie study of biograpliy — especially autobio- grapliies — and general litei'ature, in which we examine the workings of single minds as they may be repre- sented to us by words only, without the sensible ;bs. THE CIRCLE OF THE SCIENCES. 27 jnce of human ing specimen, formal science, io be a kind of eludes every ivery one must always in its on. Men may id straightway losophy of man ler good or not o what is good, is foolish to do foolish and the comforting to o and fro and there shall be votary shall not this best and ^s be fresh and wishes to be the order in the st may be named my sort. There observation and len interested or unless we catch hich makes the 3me extent, its it as part of the ly of habit, or by single minds, pecially autobio- v^hich we examine ey may be repre- lout the sensible ^'fi indications of countenance and demeanor. Then history, and finally settled modes of action adopted by bodies of men, including — modes of thought and feeling exhibited (in literature and otherwise) by different races in different ages, etiquette and fashion, customs, laws, religions an dlanguage. All these are the outcome of humanity, built, like coral, by many lives, and we must study them as human or we shall miss the lessons they are intended to teach. Unless they teach us man they are but "loads of learned lumber." Further they can only teach us man in proportion as we know man previously. " To him that hath shall be given." The theory of induction is that we are led up to principles by examining details ; but practically we conjecture the principles from one or two details and apply them to the rest for verification. Often we can find no clue to certain of the details until we approach them with the proper principles. Thus it is here. It is by studying the living man that we are to get the hints useful to open up dark and difficult problems in philosophy, history, literature and philology. The lesson of this is that a true, real, wide and deep knowledge of men is absolutely necessary to true thought on any humanitarian subject — that the heaviest abstract reasoning or the loftiest eloquence, unaccompanied by such knowledge, is worthless, and may with perfect safety be disre- garded. The four departments of knowledge are connected into a circle. Physical Science is nearly connected with Mathematics, which again is closely linked with Metaphysics and Logic ; the line between the two branches of the science of the soul — they might be called after the manner of the logicians, Pure and Moh('ts — it hauL^'s upon them. When he sunnu(;d the law in one \\(\ was ])i'eachin!:»' to tlu^ peo))!e. Thei'e is the doej) earnestiK'ss of work about it. It is the ])raclieal ti'uth. It is a rul(! to ilirect us how wc may evisr strive* toward the idc^al. All the ])ir('epts of m<>rality amount simply to thih>, this is the law and the prophets. ELEMENTS OE HELITUON. no KMT' powers nco all fclu'. re includiMl It is out' -;. To seek ncHs which mistftkim. (T shows his n his statc- , because it hrist inado which seem nmandinent iiiandments. ', Mount he eh coincides its, omitting pose because In the first e of life, but iccond. The tils the first. was j^dving rhere is the le theoretical :,h(; unattain- nciples of all propliets — it le law in one 1 is the deep the ])rael,ieal ,ve may ever s of moi'ality law and tho Many orthodox theolooijuis have held that Christ and l*a,ul wer(^ not strictly correct in savinu^ that tlie (Johh'U liule is the sinn of all virtue. lndee(l,the church in all aujes has been profoundly sceptical in this matter. Ilisho]) J-Jutlei-, foi- exam])le, shows conclusively that sti'ict truthfulness at all times is not included in benevolence. I'here ai-e times when to bo wholly truthful is to be wholly selfish. Yet ho (!steems it a vii'tue. That the whole come through the endltjss genealogy of apostolic succession, A fourth, forgetting that the chui-ch was made for man, and not man for the church, insists that the one thing needful is faith in an authoritative visible church. For man is a religicms being. He cannot rest witlumt doing something for his soul's salvation. So he cheats himself with tricks like tlH\se. We may sui'cdy have confidence enough in God's g()()dn(^ss and truth to say that th(^ trul^st belief will be most beneficial to the soul. J^ut a belief in these things is not more beneficial to the soul than a belief in tlie Anglo-Tsiael theory. Another class finds the essence of all evil in social annisements and the essence of all good in " proclaiming the gospel " to I)e()ple who have heard exactly the sanu^ thing in exactly the same way a thousand times ali'eady. Even the author of JtJcce Ho7)i,(> is found Haying that edification is greater than charity, inasnnich as it is better to make a man holy than to mnka him hapi)y. H ri ^$\ ELEMENTS OF RELIGION. But should he not have made allowance for these two things : lii'st, that it is far more within our power to make him happy than to make him holy ; and second, that the best, indeed almost the only true means of edification is the example of charity; that edification apart from charity is but sounding brass and tinkling cymbal ? Others again hold theories metaphysically correct, perhaps, but lacking moral stamina ; that is to say, they do not set themselves squarely and sternly against the evil with which they have to deal, viz., our selfishness. For instance, Goethe's doctrine of culture takes but little account of it, and makes no provision for guarding against its deceptive powers, which is equivalent to a fallacy. Moreover, if we take care to do good, culture will take care of itself. We may safely be altruids in creed, for we are constitu- tionally egoists. The keynote to a man's religious belief is his doctrine of original sin, for that involves his conviction as to his need of a religion. Once more. There is nothing which men more, or more continually crave than sympathy. Therefore sympathy with those about is the most important duty of life. Yet how many are utterly unable to look upon it as a religious duty at all, at least in so far as the little things of which life is chiefly made up are concerned. On the other hand, they find no difficulty in looking Upon prayer as a duty. Yet it is not included in the second commandment. If a man seek to form his life on that commandment, prayer is best left to the healthy longings of the soul. " It is a necessity of our humanity rather than a duty. To force it as a duty is dangerous. Christ never did so ; never did it till asked." His mention of prayer indefinite is not commendatory. The great essential truth of Christian orthodoxy is that to .s in mind and itm environments, wluit connexion liave my volitionw witli me more tluni witli »)acl< Keteli ? Oltviously none. Tiu'V sprinjj^ from elianee, and clianeo mijjflit a;H well have <:fiven tliem to tluit eclebiatcMl pei'sona<4;e as to mo. I am no moi'o i"esponsil»l(» tlum he. Uesj)on'- sihility is annihihitcd instead of Ix^^ing accounted for hy til at t]uM)i'y. The artirmativo. Suppose that our volitions are traceable to mind and its enviromnents. If our volitions have sulhcient ca\is(?s in our nature and we are responsible for the volitions, we are also responsible !'or their causes, and so on up to the tirst. If that be Scylla on our right hand, this is surely Charybdis on our h^ft, and the case of your poor philosoplier reminds one of that long-eared thinker of scholastic renown hesitating between two bundles of hay. These are the only two theories possible to human understanding. We may, indeed, take an eclectic middle course, tind hold that both are partly true. But it is obvious that so far as the negative is true we are not responsible, and so far as tlie positive is true we ai*e not responsible, and between them they seem to cover the ground. It may be of interest to note here how the sup- porters of each side are iri'esistible in attack and ind^ecile in defense. Edwards, for example, confines himself for the most part to showing that the Liber- tarian view is untenable, in which he is entirely vsuccessful. In one place, however, he defends his own view by lemarking that not the source of the action but the nature of it makes it blameworthy or praise- worthy. Surely a child m ight answer, tiue ; but it is the source which attaches the praise or blame to us. The whole controversy, notwithstanding- the vast literature it may boast, may be thus briefly summed : fl-! 52 VOLITION AND RESPONSIBILITY. Against the Positive or Predestinarian theory, there is Responsibility ; for it, the law of Cause and Effect. Against the Negative or Libertarian theory. Respon- sibility and the law of Cause and Effect ; for it, nothing. The evidence preponderates for the Positive, manifestly. Of the two it is perhaps the less absurd, and it hao been the more ably supported. We may, perhaps, find it profitable to examine a little some of the arguments advanced in support of it. Efforts have been made to trace in consciousness a connexion between mind and Volition ; or, in other words, to find a criterion enabling us to deter- mine beforehand what, in a given case, our volitions shall be. Could such a one be found, it would obviously decide the issue. That most commonly accepted is expressed iri the statement that " the Will is always determined by the strongest motive." T'^e term strength, as applied to motives, is figurative, it is that which produces results. The only true measure, even of physical strength, is the extent of its effect ; and as for strength of motives, we have no way of knowing even what it means, save as we see its results. The criterion is, therefore, after the fact, worthless as last year's almanac. Another version of the same is that " Volition ha-s always for its object that which appears most desirable." But how are we to know what appears most agreeable, save by the fact that we chooso it. Unless this knowledge be derived from a different source, it is a definition con- cerning words only and not a judgment of comparison, concerning things, and the criterion vanishes. Edwards elsewhere says that the Will is determined " by that view of mind which has the greatest degree of previous tendency to excite Volition." But what evidence have we that there is any such " previous tendency ?" None, except its results, and they become evidence only when we argue from them by the axiom i « u- VOLITION AND RESPONSIBILITY. isciousness that every effect has a cause. But precisely the point in dispute is whether the axiom holds in the case before us or not. What may seem like such a " previous tendency" in consciousness is itself of the nature of Volition. But there is a concession to be made. When the good or agreeable things between which a choice is to be made, are good or agreeable in the same kind, the issue is manifestly dependent on the judgment, and may fairly be conceived of as calculable. A merchant — and we are all in so far merchants — will certainly take, other things being equal, that course of action which he believes will yield him most profit. But the action is by supposition morally indifferent. A choice between pleasures has no moral quality. To be morally commendable or reprehensible it must be a choice between right and wrong. Or if this be objected to as rant, on the ground that if we choose right or wrong it must be because we consider them good, then the meaning of the term good is made dependent on our choice, and the criterion becomes after the fact. The good of doing right is like no other good in the universe, and comparable with no other on any standard known to man. It is of the spirit ; the other is of the flesh. And what sort of umpiie should the understanding be between tlesh and spirit in any form : between faith and sense, or pity and revenge, or sympathy and envy ; between cahn judgment and heated passion, or far-sighted prudence and blind desire ? We may even admit that the power of the flesh is in some degree calculable. There ij? such a thing as knowledge of human nature, and no one would dream of saying that it does not extend to actions having outwardly a moral quality. " Character tends to final permanence." The influence of early habits and 3 !f^ M ' % ?! 18 hi '' M ■ m 54 VOLITION AND RESPONSIBILITY. associations may be traced in after life, But we are not responsible for these things and such as these, nor for the actions to which they lead us, but for our consent to those actions. If we do that we would not, it is no more we that do it but something else. This consent is not even conceivably calculable before- hand. There can, of course, be no such thing as doing that we would not in the broad daylight of full consciousness. . Here must the struggle be. But the human heart is confessedly deceitful above all things, and amid the darkness and misty moonshine of our ignorance and half knowledge it cheats us continually, causinsr us to do countless things that we allow not, whose moral effect upon ourselves and others is evil. Of these actions human nature does afford some sort of criterion. They can be foretold with quite as much accuracy as is observed in the predictions of Vennor. They can be traced to causes in our nature. The skilful anatomist of human character knows the sources of them all. Now if actions of consent and dissent have in like manner causes in our nature, how is it that we are responsible for the one and not for the other ? It is incumbent on those who hold the necessitarian doctrine to explain. They will probably do so — that is, supposing them to admit the necessity of any explanation — by saying that the cause is in the one case a moral cause and in the other a physical. Let us understand the difference. There are a number of phrases similar to " moral cause," such as " moral compulsion," " moral necessity," " moral obligation," " moral restraint," and the like. All these are " moral " as distintruished from " absolute," and the distinction consists in this, that they act upon us only in so far as we are susceptible to moral influences. The idea arises fiom the fact that all earthly morality is an imperfect morality. Knowledge of right and wrong is a moral cause. It VOLITION AND RESPONSIBILITY 5S keeps a man from sinning only in so far as he desires not to sin. To that extent it is — not a physical but — an absolute cause, and effects Responsibility precisely as any other cause does. Beyond that it is nothing, not even a moral cause. It appears, then, that the issues of life are of two classes, and that those of the one class have a moral quality, but no previous criterion discoverable ; while those of the other seem to have p vious criteria, but have no moral quality for which we are responsible. In other words, it appears that we are in no wise responsible for moral tendencies of our natures, but only for the way in which we deal with those tendencies ; or, as we may say, only in so far as we are the work of our own hands. We might here remark that there can obviously be no previous criterion of an act for which we are responsible. A criterion implies a cause, and a cause draws back the Responsibility. But here we are confronted with the inevitable. Whence is this we whose workmanship we are ? It must be the creation of a previous we, and that of another, and so in injlnitwm. Such, I fancy, would be Edwards* argument. With this he demolishes the theory of a free choice in the Will. He rings the changes upon it repeatedly, and every time he slays a Philistine. It never fails him. It is, however, a part of the law of coiupenHation that very effective weapons are dangerous to handle. If it be true that a free choice must be acci>unted for by a previous free choice, and that by another, and so in infinitiim, it is equally true, by a strict parity of reasoning, that if it be accounted for by another cause, that cause must be accounted for by a previous, and so in infinitum. Everything that may be said for or against a Hrst free choice may be equally and similarly said for or against .; i ■? IS Pi 56 VOLITION AND RESPONSIBILITY. a first cause. If it be said that a first cause is a self-existent cause, the answer is ready that the first choice is a self-determining choice. If it be said a self-determining choice is no other than a vSelf -choosing choice, the answer is that a self-existent cause is no other than a self-causing cause. And so hi infinitum. We have sufliciently seen, I think, that the act of man 3 moral Responsibility is irreconcilable with either of the two theories. Upon either as premises an irresistible logic demonstrates it impossible; and further, no other premises are logically admissible. That the diflSculty arises from no incidental blunder is amply proved by the fact that it emerges from every possible statement of the case, and has troubled thinkers in every age. It is impossible that there should be a contradiction in the nature of things. It must therefore arise from some limitation of the human faculties. It may be that the relation between mind and Volition is not fully comprehensible to our present understanding. We asked, is it a relation of cause and eflect or is it not ? and we assumed that if it is not, it is no relation, that no other is possible. But is this necessary ? Certainly no other is conceivable, but in no conceivable way can the conditions of the problem be satisfied. Are there not causes in the woild which seem to be to some extent first causes, such as we might call secondary first causes. The human mind is certainly very prone to this way of thinking. A child's opinion concerning the wind is that it blows itself ; that is, he conceives of it as a living thing. A single germ of life seems to have unlimited power to develop itself and to direct and control physical force. Intellect, too, is creative. We trace to it ingenious device or brilliant fancy, and rest. It seems to produce eflfects and yet retain its virtue. Are there not hei'e indications of a via media? If the logical reader find nothing in this attempt to VOLITION AND RESPONSIBILITY. 57 cause IS a at the first be said a If-choosing cause is no infinitum. the act of with either remises an iible ; and a,dniissible. /al blunder srges from is troubled that there hings. It on of the m between ble to our relation of led that if 3 possible. nceivable, ins of the ;es in the st causes, ses. The is way of wind is of it as a s to have lirect and ive. We ancy, and retain its a media? t tempt to trace them but a suggestion of one or other of the old theories under a different form, let him remember that it could not by any possibility be otherwise, such an attempt being in its very nature an attempt to conceive and express the inconceivable. Moreover, there are other facts which seem to hint at such a limitation of our faculties. Pure spirit is unthinkable save by means of metaphor. But our question is in a worse case yet, for it concerns some unknrwn ditierence between matter and spirit, and what material metaphor can represent that ? We are fain to take a plain contradiction for metaphor and say a secondary first cause or the like. Such being the case, it seems pretty evi