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 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