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Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent Stre film6s d des taux de reduction diff^rents. Lorsqua le document est trop grand pour Stre reproduit en un seul clich6, il est film6 d partir de Tangle supdrieur gauche, de gauche d droite, et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images nScessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mSthode. 32 X j 1 2 3 i 2 3 ♦ 5 6 pioiHi is Ti "scii OF mm" INAUGURAL ADDRESS Delivered at the Convocation of Dalliousie University, Halifax, N. S., Oct. 18, 1887. BT J-5v.3^Es sets:, im:. .^l.. Professor of Metaphysics and Ethics. HALIFAX : PRINTBD AT TUF OFFICE OF TAB NOVA SCOTIA PRINTING COMPANT, 1887. Philosopliy as tlie "Science of Sciences." I believe it is customary for the professor to whom it falls to deliver the Introductory Address, to take advantage of this opportunity to explain,' m general and somewhat popular terms, the nature and claims of his own special subject, as well as its relation to other departments' of academic study. And while I should naturally on the ground of precedent alone, be led to adopt a similar course, I do so the more willino-ly because of the peculiar position and fortune'' of Mental_ Philosophy. Here, if anywhere, there is need of explanation, and possibly even of defence. It is, indeed, significant of the irresistible claims of Philosophy that its right to a place in the academic curriculum is seldom, if ever, openly questionrd. while the scientific and practical mind of .U century has no hesitation in questioning thj value of a classical education, it seldom ventures upon an open and avowed attack on the equally old-world and unpractical study of Philosophy. Still there is a widespread scepticism, none the less real because it is ashamed to express itself, as to the intrinsic value and present interest of philosophical study. It is allowed to retain its place by sufferance, as it were, as an interesting survival of the ancient and media3val world, and a useful intellectual gymnastic, None, perhaps, who pretend to culture,, and none v/itbout such a pretension dare intermeddle with questions of the liiirhor education, would accept this frank and ddiiiite oxpiv.ssion of tlioir attitude to Philosopliy. But it is the secret thouglit of many. Now, I beliove that sucli an attitude is tlie result, solely and entirely, of niisundei-standin^ as to the fundamental aim and spirit of Philosophy. It is only when the nature and purpose of philosophi- cal study are not understood, or mz'sunderstood, that the study itself is reprobated and requires defence. Once understood, it needs none. What I am anxious to do, then, in this address, is to explain, so far as the narrow limits permit, what Philosophy is, in the confidence that this explana- tion, in so far as it is successful, will be, at the same time, its best and sufficient defence. Philosophy, then, is a kind, or rather a stage, of Knowle<ro. I say stage rather than kind, because all knowledge is essentially or in kind the same. In the lower you have always the germ of the higher; in the higher only the development of the lower. We may distinguish three great stages of Knowledge— (1) the "ordi- nary or popular, (2) the scientific, and (3) the phdosophical. Each of these, however, is only a stage in the development of the same knowledge. Ordinary knowledge naturally and inevitably becomes scientific ; scientific knowledge, as natur- ally and inevitably, becomes philosophic. The higher is not different from the lower ; it is only the lower followed out and made conscious of its own meaning. The lower finds in the higher its explanation ; sees its own content reasoned out and developed. And Philosophy is just the final and perfect form which Knowledge, in its development from lower to higher, inevitably assumes. Ordinary knovvliMli^'c is knowloflge of fact. Tlio universo is, to tlio ordinary man, a mass of facts, and his attitude to it that of passive ohservation. He is content to observe thj facts as they present themselves to liim — en masse. It is true he cannot help introducin<r into the facts a certain unity and relation ; otherwise he coidd not knoiv tliem all. He is compelled, therefore, to employ certai- 1 principles of unity, of relation. But he employs them unconsciously and unquestionin<rly, as mere assumptions. The great principle of the uniformity of nature, for instance, is implied in our niost elementary knowledge of the physical workl ; but while con- stantly employed, it is never consciously realized, far less questioned or criticised. In short, the ordinary man does not think of explaining or justifying his knowledge, either to others" or lo himself. Knowledge is to him a practical thing ; it serves all the purposes of life, and life is his concern. He lives by faith ; his very knowledge is a kind of faith— faith not so much in fact as in a great body of principles wdiich underlie and make possible his knowledge of fact. For the explanation, at once of his know- le(lge and of the axis he knows, he looks to Science. This tas"k Science confidently undertakes. Not content with mere passive observation of the facts as they lie massed before it. Science seeks to reduce the facts to unity ; to recognize in each fact a " case " of some law or general principle, and in each law a " case" of some law yet higher or more general. Thus the unconscious unity which inspires the knowledge of the ordinary man is in Science consciously realized. Science G i8 just this rococrnition, in the onrlless variety of plicnoiiiona, of an undorlyin^r unity ; and it is in this siinso, as exactin<r from it an explicit recognition of the unity implied in it from the first, that Science explains our ordinary knowledjife. "^ The explanation of Science, however, is ahvays partial and incomplete, and it remains tor Phil- oso[)hy to .rive the complete and final explanation, l^or scientific, equally with ordinary knowled<re use f requires to be explained, and in two sen."es i;iulosophy may be said to contain the explana- tion ot Science. (1.) Philosophy completes, or seeks to com- plete, tlie partial explanation of Science. Each science deals with one part or aspect only of the universe of being. The mass of detail to be ' reduced to unity is so vast that it is impossil)le tor any single science to overtake the whole liere is no such thing as a universal science, llie man of science is necessarily a specialist; if he would contribute his part to the grand result he must limit himself to some one department ot existence. Science thus incurs the unavoi^V-ble consequences of Specialism. It necessarily roo-ards the universe from its own point of view vvhich IS not that of the whole but of the part not central but one-sided. Each science deals with Its own part or aspect of the universe, and con- siders this apart from the whole, as a res com- pleta—a separate and independent share ;, The incompleteness of scientific explanation is thus the result of the incompleteness or " abstract- ness ' of the scientific point of view— a point of view which, while legitimate and necessary in View of the peculiar work of the individuaf sci- ence,liocomo,s inovitnbly no loniriT a(l(M|uato when the snr\'oy is widciuMi an<I tlie nttciiipt inadu to comprehend from it tlie whoh; of iliin<rs. Its very exceUence for Science constitutes its ""lefect as a coniph'te explanation. Eini)hasizin;r, and there- fore exan:-:,a'ratini;, tlio sionilicance of the part at the expense of the wlioh', it misses tlie full nican- ir.«C of both. For the part can he fully undcistood only in the li^ht of the whole ; the whole only as the concrete unity of the parts. Trke, \>y way ot iliusfration, the science of Physiolorry or of Political Econon)y. The standpoint of th'e'formpr rs pnysical life ; that of the latter, material wealtji. _ It IS ohvious that neither of these standpomts is adequate to a complete explanation of the universe, limited as each is to one pa)t orphaseof existence, to the exclusion of all the rest. _ Physiolo^fry, for instance, camiot explain conscious or spiritual life, except in so far as the conscious or spiritual is at the same tim., pliysical. Nor can pclitical economy take into account moral and artistic considerations except in so far as these have also an economic side. What is wantsd, therefore, heyond tlie partial explanations of the special sciences, is an explana- tion of the whoie, such as Science is unable to pve. Iho various scientific standpoints must be co-related, and the results of the special sciences regarded f-om the hi,i.her standpoint of the whole, in the light of which the parts find their true meaning. This ultimate, because com- plete, explanation Philosophy undertakes to <nve Her interest is not in the parts, but in the wliolJ and in its unity. God, the world .an<l man— the three great factors of universal existence— Phil- osophy seeks to view them in their unity and s in tlioir miitnal relation. She seeks to view the whole, and from its centre; to view the parts, not in isolation and independence, but sub specie cefernitatis—sis each informed with the idea of the whole. (2.) Philosophy undertakes the final, as opposed to the provisional, explanation of Science. In this view her task may be said to be the final revision or criticism of knowledge. We have seen tliat Science compels ordinary know- ledge to a consciousness of its own assumptions or uncriticised principles. Science, however, leaves this work of awakening or criticism incom- plete. Science has its own assumptions. The scientific, equally with the ordinary man, employs principles unconsciously and unquestioningly ; and it remains for Philosophy to complete the work of criticism begun by Science. Take, for example, the law of causal connection. The man of science does not ask whether, or how far, this is a valid principle of knowledge. He employs it in all his reasoning ; but his only concern is to find the laws according to which i't is exemplified in particular phenomena. He is so interested in " cases" of the law that it does not occur to him to inquire into the nature and ground of the law itself. This is only an instance of the general truth that the principles which underlie the procedure of scientific as well as of ordinary thought are, for the latter as for the former, of the nature of assumptions. Philoso- phy, on the contrary, can have no assumptions. No part or phase of khowledge can claim innnu- nity from her criticism. It is her high calling to yivestigate, and, as the result of investigation, to justify or condemn the assumptions alike of ordinary and of scientific knowledge. To snm up what has just been said about the three starves of Enowledo-c and their relation to one another, we may take as an ilkistration our knowledi^e of space. Some conception of space IS implied in our ordinary knowledge of the material world. We always 'place things at a distance from ourselves and from one another, that is, we relate them in a common space. But it is not necessary, for the purposes of ordinary knowledge, to inquire into the nature of this space or its properties ; r does the ordinary man do so. Such inquiries he leaves to Science and Philosophy. The former, not satisfied with the vagueness of ordinary knowledge, seeks to giye the conception a new definiteness. The science of Geometry investigates the properties of space, and formulates the universal and necessary spatial relations. But even Geometry does not raise the question of the essential nature of space. Given space — the space of ordinary knowledge— Geometry deduces its necessary properties ; but what space itself is, it does not inquire. Nor does Geometry consider the relation of the spatial to the other aspects of tlie universe ; it concentrates on this one aspect with exclusive interest. It tlius remains for Philosophy to com- plete, if possible, our knowledge of space, by investigating its essential nature, our right to employ the conception alike in our ordinary and scientific knowledge, as well as its relation to other necessary conceptions or aspects of the universe. Thus it is that Philosophy is the last and highest stage of Knowledge— the ultimate form whieli, m ifH development from lower to higher, it inevitably assumes. It is the endeavour— con- scionsly and eoiiiplotolv— to th'nih or 7-<'-tln'nk tlio uniyerso, only ])artially and lu'sit.-itinn-ly tl„)u..-l.t by tiie ordinary .-md the seientilie man ; tlio final nnd coniploto awakcnin.,^ from tlio sleep of jnu'ojiscious or semi-conscious thouohfc; Kuow- lodn-o comes to full self-consciousness. Lot mo illusti-ato this uni(]no position of 1 hilosopl.y as the " scionco of sciences," by con- sidenng a httlo farther its relation, on tile ono iian.l, to Science, and on the other to Th(>olo<'-y called by Aristotle " the ilrst philosophy." ' The one constant factor of existence— the "common denominator" to whoso terms all phenomena may be reduced, is Thoun-ht l^^rom this " magic circle" escape is impossible. ThiiK-.s arc tor us non-existent, because non-si<rniticairt until known; and to hiow things is^to think them, i he Science of Thought is, therefore, the science ot universal existence, investi-ratino- as It does the essential nature of that whose sj^ecial maniiestations are studied by the various sciences As luis been well said, " at bottom there is but one subject of study— the forms and metamor- phoses of mind. All other subjects may bo reduced to that ; all other studies' brino- us l)ack to this study." Occupying this central or universal point of view. Philosophy is free from the limitations which necessarily beset the special sciences, aii.l is therefore in a position to adjuuate between their conllicting claims. Science, however, does not always recognize her own limitations, but sometimes, and niore particularly in our own time, sets up a claim to that independence and ultimateness of view which, we have just seen, belongs bv peeu- liur right to Philosophy. \n setting up this n claim, Science abandons her own lc<ritiniate nnd l)rop{'r f^nound, and beconics Pliilo.sT)i)liy. Jt is .strange that men, otliorwise eminently iitted to represent the science of tliis century, slionld have laid tliemselves open to the condemnation \vhich Bacon pronounciMl a<,^ainst the science of tlie Middle Airv.s, of " false generalization," that IS, gf.-neralization which is not a strict and faith- fiil induction fro»n the facts observed. The wIkjIo phenomenon of Agnosticism, it seems to me, is an examj)l(! of this pseudo-science. It becomes neces- Kary, thei-efore, in order to clearness of thought, todistinguii*cnrefully between the proviuct'^ of fScience and Philosophy. Until we thus distin- guish, in the writings of S))(>ncer, between what is the result of strictly scientific procedure, and what is very questionable philosophical slipi-r- structurc reared th(!reon, we are not in a position to judg(i of the value of the net-i'csult. Thus one yeiy evident service of riiilosc^phy is, by showing the necessary limitations of its point of view, to correct the over-conlident conclusions of Science. But Pln'losophy has not only this negative relation to Science ; it has also positive relations of a close and important nature. If what 1 h.avo said above be true, it follows that Philosophy and Science are oi-ganically connected with one another. It is indeed the result, in large measure, of the growth of the scientific spii-it in modern' times that Philosophy has learned to modify her conception of her task and province, and to recognize her community of interest with Science The old conception of "'Metaphysics," as dealing with a sphere of existence IJ'//o!h/ or hchhul the natural has been generally abandoned. 12 Pliilo.sophy, it is now reco,^nize(l, has to do, not witli a world of abstract Being or Tliings-in- thenisclves apart from the world "of plienomena, but witli that world of Gxporionco which is the common domain of Philosophy and Science. Its true function is not to separate that whicli has been joined together, to conjure up a world of absolute Reality apart from the world of experience ; but rather, as we have seen, to join once more what Science has separated, the various parts or aspects of the universe in one great whole. So misleading, indeed, in this refeiHjnco, because so full of archaic misunderstanding, is the term " Metaphysics," that I believe it' is largely to blame for the distrust of Philosophy so prevalent in the popular and scientific mind. As suggesting the old historic conception of her task, the term is full of interest ; but in view of the revolution— for it it is no less— since Kant in the attitude of Philosopy to Science, it is questionable whether it sliould be retained. Kant has shown, once for all, that Philosophy, in the sense of the old " :Metaphysics," that is,' as the science of absolute Being or Things-in-them- selves, is an impossible dream, and that tlie only legitimate and fruitful Philosophy is the Pliil- osophy of Experience. Not that either Philosophy or Science is empirical. Whde both alike are limited to experience, both, in a sense, go beyond experience, and seek its explanation. But though Philosophy goes farther than Science, anil ^ seeks to supplement its partial and provisional explanation by one that is exhaustive anrl final, it is always the same Experience that it is seeking to explain. But Philosophy not only completes the work of Science ; it also leads up to that of Theology, ,f. 13 ,^ and throws lipfht on leji^itimate procedure here also. ^ Tins is the task of tlie Philosophy of Religion. For here we are still dealing with experience — experience in its highest form — that of the religious consciousness. This, like all experience, implies certain factors which make it possible ; and it is in the justice done to these by the full and adequate view^ of Philosophy that we see its most positive service. Li its appreciation of the moral^the basis the religious experience ; of the great fact of self- hood in human life ; of the eternal import of moral distinctions ; of the destiny of the moral agent ; of the counterpart in God of man's moral nature ; of the subordination of the physical to the ethical, and at the same time the working down of the ethical into the physical ; in the final interpretation of the universe in the light of this, its highest characteristic — in all this Phil- osophy is preparing the way for Theology, finding, in the facts of the universe and especially of human life, the groundwork of religious experience. Above all, in the strange, inex- plical'le, yet constant fact of evil, of confiict, or failure in moral life, Philosophy finds the great religious need. The full significance of these facth is appreciated only when they are interpreted religiously. The only possible solution of the problem they present is a religious solution. The religious man conceives moral evil as Sin against God, and finds escape from the the contradictions of moral life in the thought of a Divine Redemption. It is the task of Theology, and not of Philosophy, to think out this religious experience, to theorize it, if possible. In so far, too, as the element of Revelation enters 14 mto Theology, its sphere is distinct from that of Philosopliy no less than of Science. Still, dealin.r as it necessarily does with ultimate philosophical notions, as these are implied in religious experience Theology must receive the teaching of Philosophy as to how far these notions come within the compass of our knowledge, as to how far it is possible to theorize this highest form of experience. This connection of Philosophy and Theology is indeed matter of history. Even in the Scholastic age Philosophy was acknowled<rcd to be " the handmaid of TJjeology ;" and in modern tunes a rationalistic or nega'tive Theology has been the invariable complement of a rationalistic or negative Philosophy. Wliile already we can see the beginnings of the influence of the new philosophical standpoint of this century upon tlie Theology of the time. Here, once more, 1 hilosophy IS seen to be the " science of sciences." The task of Philosophy is thus a very ambitious one. Too ambitious, we are apt to say, when we contrast the grandeur of its ideal With the poverty of its actual achievement. If its ideal far surpasses that of Science, does not its attain- ment fall infinitely short ? Instead of the sure march of ever wider conquest of truth, we have a prolonged war of systems, system after system, mutually destructive; the same old questions debated again and again, with no advance, no definite gain of truth. Such is the disheartenin<T conclusion which we are apt to draw from a survey of the History of Philosophy. ^ But is there no progress to be traced in the history ? Does not the law of evolution find verification here as elsewhere, though with less of constancy, more of freedom ; less of uniform- I 15 necessity, more of the free play of individuality ? Is there no development to he traced— from lower to higher, from less to more adequate views of truth ? System follows system, it is true ; but not arbitrarily and aimlessly, rather by a certain inward necessity, the necessity of thouo-lit Nor IS there any going hack in Philosopiry. Each apparent " return" is in reality an advance, made possible by the intervening conllict and criticism. Compare, for example, any great modern with a corresponding ancient system, as the philosophy ot Hegel with that of Aristotle. Aristotle's formujje may be capable of expressino- He<-vlian conceptions ; but the formulie. when'thus mter- preted, are infinitely richer to us than they could have been to Aristotle. So again the "return to Kant," of which we hear so much at present is not a return to the philosophy of Kant precisely as conceived by Kant himself, to the sacrifice oi all that has been done since; it is a return to Kantian conceptions illumined and developed by later thought. Such is truth, that each seed contains the whole in germ, each facet reflects, or may in the proper light reflect the colours of the whole. But the light which reveals these colours comes only after long and patient seekin<T although, once found, it sheds "back its lustre upon the discoveries of the past. It is thus that every part of the history of Philosophy is full of interest to the speculative mind ; for each part is touched with the glory of the whole. Each thinker in turn has had his own o-lance of deepest insight into truth, though it may be that we, m the retrospect, can see clearly and fully what he, prophet-like, saw but dimly and afar 16 And as for the sttifo and tumult which mark the history of thought, as well as of action, is it not so, that tlirongh negation an<l contradiction, and only thus, tlie full content of the truth may be developed. The truth of Realism, for example, must be opposed to the truth of Idealism, that the full truth, of which each is only a partial expression, may be reached. Truth is so rich and many-sided, that it cannot be exhausted in any single view, however apparently compre- hensive. Its various sides must in turn be emphasized, that at least the wliole may, in all the fulness of its meaning, be seen and appreciated. It may, indeed, be that this full vision of the truth belongs to God alone, and that man can only behold and celebrate its various aspects as, one by one, they are presented to him. It may be that, as Socrates said, we can only be " philosophers " — seekers after wisdom — and that God alone is ivise. A final and complete Philosophy may be unattainable. That full-toned harmony, which is the last result of all the discords that together make the grand anthem of the truth, we perhaps can never hear ; it may be for the ears of Him alone whose praise it tells. But that the discords do contribute to such a final harmony we know and feel, and it is this hope and confidence that has inspired the singers through all the centuries as each took up his several part. Thus, even though complete success in the execution of its task may be impossible, yet the ideal, unattainable though it be, is the spur and spring of philosophical endeavour. Our intellect- ual, like our moral life, implies an ideal. But it may be that, here as there, the ideal is \k 17 i IS unattainable, and our experience is one of constant striio-gle and failure, l)orne up })y tlio hope of ultimate success. But though the characteristic of both alike is failure and defeat, that does not express tlie whole of either. There is tragedy in both ; but neither is altogether tragic. We do not know absolute good — our good is always mixed with evil ; nor absolute truth — our truth is always mixed with error. But good is ever stronger than evil, and truth than error; and in failure, whether moral or intellect, which knows itself to be failure, there is the seed of ultimate success ; in defeat, which knoivs itself to be defeat, there is the prophecy of future triumph. And perhaps it needs the lesson of failure and defeat in the struggle towards its attainment to teach us the rich significance of the ideal, alike of our moral and of our intellectual life. Perhaps if it were not for the discords of our life, and the know- ledge that they are discords, we could not appreciate the harmony when we hear it. At any rate faith in an Ideal which, while it reveals, can also harmonize the discords, is the postulate of the highest life, whether of action or of thought. " Tlie high that proved too high, the heroic for earth too hard, The passion that left the ground to lose itself in the sky, Are music sent up to (jod by tlie lover and the bard ; Enougli that He heard it once : we shall hear it by-and- bye. _ And what is our failure here but a triumph's evidence For the fulness of the days? Have we withered or agonized ? Why else was the pause prolonged but that singing might issue thence '! Why ruslied the discords in, but that harmony should be prized ?" 18 T foar T W alromly .l.tainocl you too Ion- ;-n n 'iJ^'^VP 'y t" you on tl.o yroun.l of the intonso and varied interest wliich attaclies to it inf.."/ ^'r/^'^'Tr '' ^'^^ ^^"'"^^ interest-the mtere.st of Jito. Man, in virtue of his peculiar j;ature IS necessarily a philosopher. As a ^Z 1 n <.. he IS not content till he has recognized in ftl things a reason answering to his own. Born into a world of mystery, he ?annot rest witho i pislung the mystery farther an.l farther hack ilo craves for knowledge— ever hh-her and an Id';;;:;' "'? 7'^'' °*" 'f^'' «*' '^^^ -- -^'-0 and duty an.l dostniy. An.l in knowledge there huu\T V'l?'? ''' -^tisfaction ; it is a Constant J>"ng<>r and thirst, an insatiahle cravin-.- The un2;iv?'l''''"Tl''' "^' »'r^tery-of probleins >-et s ^f ^^'"^ consciousness of the need^f ^olut.on Man must tkink. It is the very law o MS being And to philosophize is onh^ to think more deeply and more unweariedly. it) all literature— in the novel and the drama c p.c,ally-we find this reaching after a com- •U'to view ot human life, of the workinrr of each r'"- ,^''il«-P^^y i^ J^^'^t the attempt to icach a complete and reasoned view, w-here literature is content with " Hashes" of insight as nuch ot (Muotmn as of thought. It is tru? tl\at e thif" •T'''^'? "'"'" ^^'''^' Pl'il<'«ophy, and it may be hat literature, in spite of the fragmentarinesi fr. .n ,'';"'•' ""' .P^^'^P' -J"''^ ^^^''^"^c of this tiagn entarmess, is truer to life than philosophy ^or "m literature," as my colljixgue. ^J)r Alexan<ler, finely remarked in addre,5;.in<r you on a SIMM!,,,, occassion, " is to be found a trea'sure- iiouso ot aid-suggestions the more stimulatino- 1 19 1(1 tJio that they are hut suggestions, partial solutions the n.ore endurinj. that they ari but nartia an.l east " W'^^^' philosophy in.p^icit wl'J e least oxpecte.l." Literature, liko P].ysiolo..v views the hvinc. reality ; while Philosoph' F^J rn y '"■'^^P^'y i'^, hke that of Science of a cliifcrent kind tVoni the interestof literature It IS concerned with the conditions of that life w iKch in Its full breathing actuality is to subject ot literature. But thSr interest!' tho, ! drterent are both equally le^^ntimat; The phd^ophical endeavour to theorize life, to under! stand Its conditions, is no less necessary than the ei2l?^f'f" r'^^T^^'^ appr^iate tl: lite Itself, which IS the result of these conditions. Manifold indeed are the possible solutions of ^r 1 r f,'^^"'" "'ay be a practical one -the solution ot life. This is, in a sense the universal solution. Many have no interest n h^-aiiire, far less ^ ^^^e, and bfe implies an ideal, however low or Ill-considered. Or the solution may be fouml L religion-in an escape fron. the contradictions cult es^Tv '"" f "«'^'' ^'^' ^" ^^'^"^'^ the diffi- culties of knowledge are swallowed up in a victorious faith. Or in poetry-imao-ination and feeling shedding their glory o^n the de^d p^n of a inerely intellectual life. Yet, in certain nfoods^ of us at'n '"'"'f thought-which come to all ot us at times, when the eager questioninrrs of reason demand an answer, and escape bec"omes impossible, the human mind is content wUl nuthmg less than a Pkllosopky of life~a clear and reasoned account of its nature and conditions' 20 And all the intonso intorest of that life whoso , nature and conditions it investi -rates is reflected on the study of Pliihwophy. | ^ Closely connected with this human interest IS the historical interest of philosophical study Pliilosophy is no new thin^^ It is a inovcn.L-rit ot the human mind from the earliest times to the ^'• present day. Men have always pondered its '' questions. Wond<'i fully diH'erent as have been the solutions of dilf'erent ai,a's and countries, of different individual minds, the problems are eternally the same. And thus the student of Philosophy is supported by a sense of sympathy in a common search with the thoughtful of every age and country. _ Again there is the literary interest. Nor is this merely incidental, in that Philosophy, as we have seen, deals fully and deliberately with the problem raised in all literature ; there is, farther, a whole literary domain peculiar to Philosophy.' The great thinkers of the world have also been amongst its greatest writers. The literature of Philosophy is no less important— in some periods it is much more so— than the literature of the Imagination. Would not Greek literature be poorer without the Dialogues of Plato and the Treatises of Aristotle ? And in modcii cim(is are not names like Jjescartes, Spinoza. J.o-l-e, Leibnitz, Berkeley, Hume, Kant, Hegul, gieai in literature as well as in philosophy ? Some training in Philosophy, then, is necessary — is it not ?— for the appreciation of a whole depart- ment of literature, devoted as it is to philosophical !.. ;;stiv.,^tions. We must distinguish, of course, j -jtw-eu the value of philo.sophical works a.s 1 '.ev-ature aru their value as philosophy; but the 21 we cannot appreciate the one, witliout in some niea.surc, at least, appreciatinr. tlio other also. *or a6_ono of its most eminent livin- exponents (i'rot. Duciien) has sai.l ; "The study of literature IS not a stii.ly solely of what is graceful, attractive and pleasure-givinj,r i„ books ; it attempts to understand the great thoughts of the great thinkers. To know Greek literature, we must know Aristotle ; to know French literature, we must know ])escartes. In English literature of tJie eighteenth century, Berkeley and Butle-r and Hume are greater names than Gravan-^ Collier" One result of your study of Philosophy, then, will be to introduce you to a large and important department of literature, and to put you in posses.^ion of some standard oi appreciation of certain canons of criticism for application there _ Once more : there is what I may call the interest ot culture. Being free from the necessary limitations of the scientific standpoint Phi osophy gives a breadth of view which the study of the special sciences cannot give It gives the right, because the ability, to iud<Te to criticise ; the tolerance which comes of know- ledge ; the reverence which comes of knowledo-e ot our Ignorance. It is the lack of this philosophical culture in the scientific and theo- logical, as well as in the popular mind, that is the constant cause of controversy between Science and _ Theology. Such controversy invariably arises from the interference of the one with the work of the other, or of either with that ot Philosophy. So long as each restricts itself to its own proper sphere, its results are not to be questioned, and will not be found to contradict one another. So soon, however, as either touches on the ultimate questions of Philosophy n 22 becomas subject to philosophical criticism ; and unless the man of science and the theolordan is also a philosopher, he is found lackinrr iS that perfect "culture" which is the condition of sound judgment on these questions. There is one other interest, sugcrested in what I have already said, I mean the religious interest We have seen that Philosophv. ?egardincr the universe as it does from the luncal. ami no? merely, hke Science, from the plu-sical and intellectual side, calls attention V a moTa situation, of which the only adequate interp^-e a- tion and so ution is found in Religion. It^niav indeed, be that a complete Pliilosophy of Religion s impossible. Religion is always more "and s ronger than Philosophy, as life is more and stronger than theory ; ail the faith of the' liUlo t^l 'rS r^^ 1^ '^^""^' *^^^^" ^^'^ ^^eepcst know- ledge of Philosophy. Yet the attempt to think out this highest of all forms of experience is no ess necessary than the attempt to think out its lower forms. So surely as we attain to intellectual inanhood, we seek a reason of the faith that is in us ; and the stronger our faith, the greater will \LT%l—T' ^^ ««^^king for its rational oas s. 1 his IS the supreme undertaking of Philo- sophy, which investigates the ultimate notions Lmn?F7-f "' ^^ Religion-God, Freedom and oTZ :1^'\T^> ''^''^^''' wl^olly successful 01 not, at least draws attention to that side of things which points to God and the religious life woAl V T f-P ""J' ^''''' ^' *^^^ °^^>'^^'"« ^^^J woi thy destiny of man. , Such so far as I have been able hastily an imperfectly to describe it.is the task of Philosoph so great its interest and importance and sophy Some of 23 fcism ; and eologian is ig in tliat m of sound id in what IS interest, irding the and not ^sical and a moral titerpreta- It may f Religion nore and nore and the "little est know- to think nee is no i out its tellectual I that is jater will rational of Philo- notions dom and iccessful side of ;ious life irue and ily and losophy ome of you are entermg upon this study to-day, and I would urge you in my closing word, to earnest- ness and faithfulness in it. Here, even more than elsewhere, the student mast co-operate with the teacher. It is but little that the latter can do alone I cannot solve your problems for you; the solutions must be your own, or the v are of no value In Philosophy, at least, there is no work done by proxy. The reward is strictly proportioned to individual effort. But I have sufhcient confi.lence in iny subject, and in your earnestness of purpose as students of Dalhousio to believe that you will not be slow to lend mo' your active co-pperation in this great study. Ihe time is propitious. I believe that the inter- est in the problems of Philosophy is more wide- spread just at present than at any former time. Men s minds are full of them, and "the tremendous intei-ests involved are appreciated as, perhaps they never were before. You are to prepare to take your part in the great debate ; to make conquest of the truth for yourselves, that you may be able help others to it. Use well the time of preparation. You are just entering upon full and independent intellectual life, upon " the novitiate ot your intelligence." Possess yourselves of your spiritual birthright; appropiiate your great inheritance.^ But do so with reverence and humility, with a sense of the solemnity of the trust committed to you. In all that you do, be mindful of that high trust, and faithful to it Ihe use you make of these student years will tell upon your whole future, and far beyond 5'our own. Be faithful, be earnest, be courageous. And when the years of college life have come and gone, they will leave bejiin.l them a rich and abiding possession of spiritual gain. ~if