THE RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD THE RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD AN ESSAY IN CONSTRUCTIVE PHILOSOPHY BY ARTHUR KENYON ROGERS, PH.D. PROFESSOR OF PHILOSOPHY IN BUTLER COLLEGE AUTHOR OF "A BRIEF INTRODUCTION TO MODERN PHILOSOPHY," "A STUDENTS' HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY" Nefo gork THE MACMILLAN COMPANY LONDON: MACMILLAN & CO., LTD. 1907 All rights reserved COPYRIGHT, 1907, BY THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. Set up and electrotyped. Published January, 1907. Noriuoot) J. S. Gushing & Co. Berwick & Smith Co. Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. Bbs CONTENTS PAGE INTRODUCTION i THE FOUNDATIONS OF KNOWLEDGE .... 6 THE VALIDITY OF KNOWLEDGE 35 RELIGION AND PHILOSOPHY 79 THE ARGUMENT FOR PURPOSE 93 THE RELATION OF GOD AND NATURE . . .121 THE RELATION OF GOD AND MAN . . . . 151 THE NATURE OF GOD 176 THE PROBLEM OF FREEDOM 198 THE PROBLEM OF EVIL 231 THE PROBLEM OF IMMORTALITY . . . .261 INDEX 285 v 155845 THE RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD INTRODUCTION I PROPOSE in the following pages to defend a view of the world which is frankly religious and theistic, in opposition to certain modern types of philo- sophical thought which are now widely prevalent. The results which I shall advocate do not therefore depart very far from the presuppositions which underlie the ordinary Christian consciousness, when these are interpreted not in a dogmatic, but in a broadly philosophical way. And by the phrase "ordinary Christian consciousness" I mean to ex- clude any sublimated and mystical creed, or any reconstruction in terms of merely practical ideals, and to refer substantially to such a manner of con- ceiving the universe of reality in its large and essen- tial character, as the general sound intelligence and common sense of the religious community would be able to take up in imagination with some measure of concreteness and objectivity, and recognize as the natural understanding of the historical Christian 2 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD revelation. I am aware that by many this coinci- dence with the common judgment will be considered anything but a recommendation for a philosophical theory ; I confess I think it, so far as it goes, in its favor. I should indeed be sorry to appear to be making in philosophy an appeal to the mob. There are questions which cannot be solved by the doc- trinaire method. Nevertheless, I am strongly of the opinion that anything like esotericism in a philosophy ! is prima facie proof of its final inadequacy. Philos- ophy is not intended to contravene or supplantHhe ^ everyday experience of mankind, but to explain it, and by so doing to give it a heightened value. The contrary view is a very old and a very persistent one, but it is a heresy none the less. Plato's notion that philosophy is for the favored few, and that it dwells in a realm apart from the commoner expe- riences of life, still finds wide acceptance. There is an inveterate pride of intellect which tends to prize a belief in proportion as it is shared only with a limited number, and is unintelligible to the mass of men. There is a certain prestige in having shaken one's self loose from the company of the multitude. And this is helped out by the subtle delusion, dangerous because it is the perversion of a truth, that the right attitude in philosophy is one of detachment from all interests whatever, the attitude of the rare spirit who stands forth as a God holding no form of creed, but contemplating and criticising all alike with equal unconcern. To adopt a high INTRODUCTION 3 attitude of disinterestedness, to make truth alone our end and disclaim any preference for one conclu- sion rather than another, is a characteristic note in recent times, and it has a plausible sound. But in my opinion the whole attitude is likely to be a mis- taken one. /No man can philosophize rightly who has no personal concern in the common hopes and fears and ideals and beliefs of men, and the pro- fession of this is either an affectation or a limitation. If the philosopher stood apart from his race and were thinking out a merely private scheme of life for himself, it might be tolerated in him. But he is doing nothing of the sort. It is the experience of man on which he is building. And if he allows his own individual obtuseness to certain aspects of human experience, the failure of these to appeal to him personally or as member of a little coterie, to limit his range, he does so at his peril. The attitude j of disinterested spectator simply cannot be assumed I in philosophy, if indeed it can anywhere in life. 1 Of course one must always be ready to look every fact in the face and take it for what it is worth. But to assume a position outside the world's life and make it simply a subject on which to exercise one's skill in dialectic, careless what the issue may be, is to take the wrong path at the start. It is not necessary to cease to be a man in order to become a philosopher. Philosophy, once more, is the interpretation of the value of our common experience. And the man who does not feel the value of that experience is by the 4 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD very fact incapacitated for dealing with it, in any save a minor and critical way. And now since, individually, we all are certain to be one-sided and to exalt minor aspects overmuch, there is no way of testing ourselves that can dispense with the necessity of coming back continually to the wider experience of mankind not of philosophers merely, but of the common man. For although philosophers find it hard to realize the fact, thejife of thought is a highly artificial one. It inevitably tends to stunt certain sides of the normal life and shift the balance of its estimates of worth. And in mere logic there is no power to correct the fault. i Logic is very useful in setting in order the things we [are already inclined to accept. But it has little to say as regards what we shall consider important in the first place. Indeed, the more we depend upon logic and logic alone, the more certain we are to find 'ourselves apart from the main stream of human life, for the reason that the conscious premises from which any of us start are very unlikely to repre- / sent more than a small fraction of the truth ; and by excluding the saving inconsistencies by which most men temper the strictness of their logical deductions, we fail of any corrective to our natural narrowness. This is indeed one chief service that strict logical consistency has to perform in the history of thought. It leads the philosopher into paradox, and that paradox makes other men, if not the philosopher himself, go back upon his premises. The fact that a INTRODUCTION 5 conclusion which is repugnant to the natural sense of mankind has a strict logical justification, instead of proving the truth of this opinion, only serves to call out the recognition that premises leading to such a result must be one-sided, and so sends men back to a wider experience to correct them. These statements will need to be more fully ex- plained and grounded, and to do this there will be necessary a somewhat careful inquiry into the nature of knowledge, belief, and truth. Before therefore any attempt is made to deal directly with the main issue of the present essay the validity of religion and religious knowledge I shall turn to this pre- liminary problem, in order to be able more justly to compare religious knowledge with other objects of human belief, and to decide what its claims to accept- ance are. THE FOUNDATIONS OF KNOWLEDGE IF then we go back to the presuppositions of all knowledge, we shall find for the first and perhaps for the last time a point on which thinkers of very opposite schools are nowadays practically agreed. There was a time when it was very generally thought that men come into the world with a certain amount of knowledge, ready-made, in their minds. This went by the name of innate ideas, and had to do more particularly with various rather lofty and ab- stract metaphysical and religious truths, with perhaps some moral maxims thrown in. There is a way in which this old belief may be interpreted and still represent an important truth; but as originally meant it is now pretty generally discarded. Philoso- phers are now with few exceptions~agreed that what- ever knowledge man possesses comes to him directly or indirectly on the basis of or in connection with that plain, everyday form of experience which is called sense experience. Apart from sensation, which need not here be sharply distinguished from the larger and more indefinite term "feeling," what we call experience would be contentless and non- existent ; and this applies to the most exalted^objects that enter into thought as truly aTtVtKTmost lowly. Let any one after some psychological training attempt 6 THE FOUNDATIONS OF KNOWLEDGE 7 to exclude resolutely and entirely from any content of his thought whatever can be traced back to this source, and he can scarcely fail to realize very quickly the force of such a claim. Of course this assumption which we are taking as a starting-point is a far simpler one than most per- sons would consider we have a right to make. People generally at the present day would regard as equally certain with the existence of sense experi- ences a number of further facts or theories about them. For example, they would agree that sensa- tions are all to be carried back to some particular condition of what is called a body or nervous struc- ture, and that at least some of them have as their occasion a remoter physical cause which lies outside the body and acts upon it. It is never safe, however, to take too many things for granted at once, and it will therefore be well to make our original assump- tions as little complex as possible, and to proceed from these by steps which are sufficiently cautious and gradual to avoid any unnecessary risk of confu- sion. And it should perhaps be pointed out that, in calling the existence of sensation a primitive and in- dubitable fact of knowledge, I do not mean to imply that I think there was a time when the recognition of such bare sense experiences represented all the knowl- edge that we possessed, and that everything else we now take for knowledge was later added on to this, and has in consequence a secondary degree of certainty. As a matter of fact the conscious recognition of sensa- OF THE UNIVERSITY OF 8 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD tion as such in its distinction from other things is almost certainly a late achievement of human reason, and involves a considerable effort of abstraction. * And in speaking of a starting-point or presupposition > it is not to be understood, either, that we are trying to empty our minds of absolutely everything beside, in order to let this one truth rest solely upon its own bottom. It is indeed clearly an impossibility that we should strip off all the later and hard-won accre- tions of our rational experience, and come to any pre- supposition in our original nakedness, accepting it in entire independence of other and related assumptions. What we do, what indeed we are compelled to do, is .; > rather this : We approach our inquiry with the mental * A structure and the general way of looking at things of 11 which we find ourselves naturally possessed as the ij outcome of human evolution. This is all the mind and all the knowledge we have and we must needs make use of it if we are to get ahead at all. In the light of this our large inheritance we then proceed to analyze and examine more minutely the more detailed features of our intellectual content. And if we find any point which is clearly a fundamental assumption in our world of knowledge, which is so intimately worked into the accepted universe that it could not be withdrawn without tumbling the whole structure down upon our heads, we feel ourselves justified in taking this as a datum. Such a datum we seem to find in the bare fact, which scepticism has no ap- parent interest hi disputing, that out of the depths THE FOUNDATIONS OF KNOWLEDGE 9 of the unconscious there do well up these jacts of immediate feeling or sensing which are the basis and the starting-point of all that we call the conscious life. It is hard to see how one can refuse to accept this without putting himself altogether outside our com- mon system of knowledge and of human discourse. There is now one aspect of such experiences, or at least of some among them, which is also relatively simple and immediate. And since this will be of importance presently, it is well to speak of it here. It is a peculiarity of what we learn to call sense per- ception that it comes to us as in a very considerable measure a thing inevitable, out from under our direct control, independent and compulsive. In this it differs from certain other forms of our mental life which are or seem to be more within our own power. Thus a thought or a memory can within certain very considerable limitations be called up at any time or dismissed from the mind again and forgotten. Similarly, we may determine for ourselves with more or less practical success whether an emotion is or is not to dominate us. But there is a difference which we naturally feel in the case of perception. The eye cannot choose but see, whenever it is open to gaze upon the object in its presence, while no effort of will can produce the full experience of sensing unless certain conditions which we cannot ourselves directly create are favorable. For the present it is enough to note this characteristic of sensations ; what it implies may be left to be considered later. 10 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD But now we never could by any chance have be- come aware of the distinction that has just been mentioned were it not for another and very funda- mental aspect of experience. It would be possible to conceive an experience which consisted practically of nothing more than a confused and tumultuous upheaval of evanescent waves of feeling, connected by no principle of relatedness or law of order. But such an experience, if it could exist, would be abso- lutely blind and irrational, and quite unlike anything we understand by the word. For there is of course this second and obvious characteristic of experience as we mean the term: that sensations show certain regularities in their way of appearing, by means of which we are able to anticipate the probable course of events. Tlu^regularitv^r order, or law of succession among sensations is, as any one can easily see, an im- mensely important aspect of knowledge. By making experience calculable it lies at the foundation of the entire rational life, the life which acts consciously according to preconceived ends. But now there is still another very significant feature of the situation which comes to light as soon as we begin to examine carefully this fact of order. If the question is asked how we ever come to recognize the order which exists among sensations, the first and most natural answer perhaps would be that the order is there, and being there is bound to make an impression on us and compel its recognition. But it is not at all clear that THE FOUNDATIONS OF KNOWLEDGE II this would be a sufficient answer. The world in which we live is inconceivably complex. It is far \ from being true that the order in it stands out plain \ and unmistakable to the passive and uninquisitive ; gaze. A few sequences might force themselves automatically on our notice. But the number of these would at best be very small, and out of all proportion to the enormous mass of irregularities and failures of sequence which, to one who is not already in possession of the clew, must make an im- pression of the merest jumble. We are at the present day so indoctrinated with the idea of law and undeviating order in the world that we may come to take it as self-evident and unimpeachable. We fail to remember that the conception of law as at all widespread or universal has come into exist- ence by a process which we still can trace. Or, again, we fail to notice how much of the idea to-day rests upon the assertions of other men whose authority we have been taught to respect, and how these as- sertions in turn go back to a weight of evidence the larger part of which they have themselves had to take on trust. And even in the case of sequences which we consider are sufficiently founded in our own experience, we seldom realize in how large measure they are the outcome of a pious faith, and how constantly we should find them unrealized and contradicted by the facts were we to stop with first appearances, and the natural impressions which these would produce if we approached them wholly 12 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD without bias. We certainly never have examined more than the minutest fraction of all the instances that occur. And almost as certainly have we once and again met with cases where the expected proced- ure failed to come about. When this happens, we are quick, it is true, to declare : Yes, but there was some good reason for it; there were complicating circumstances which entered in and turned aside the natural course of things. But the point is that this is possible only as we go behind the first ap- pearances, and actively make an endeavor to in- troduce order into the world whether we find it there or not. Of course we shall have an ordered world if we assume to start with that order is there, and then when it fails to appear refuse to allow this to affect our faith, but come forward at once with the new assumption that the customary would have happened as usual if some special hindrance had not stepped in to prevent. And the fact that we have to do this so constantly makes it evident that the highly organized and orderly world of our experience is not something merely forced upon us mechanically by the facts. The new element, therefore, which we have to recognize as playing an essential part in the building up of experience, is that constructive or selective aspect of our mental processes of which recent psychology takes so much account. The multitude of impressions at every moment raining in upon the human organism would be absolutely bewildering THE FOUNDATIONS OF KNOWLEDGE 13 and disconcerting were it not that we are so con- structed as to be able to shdUhe_majority_of them, refuse them our attention, while we pick out the ones that are more directly related to our needs and interests. A living creature is not a mere mass of clay to take dents passively and indiscriminately wherever it comes in contact with some external prod. It is fundamentally active and selective, continually in a state of tension, highly sensitive in certain special directions and ready to respond the moment the right stimulus makes its appearance, while ignoring what- ever is irrelevant. Now, if this is true even in connection with the mere coming and going of sensations in our ex- perience, it is perhaps clearer still as an account of the way in which we learn to recognize the laws of connection. The basis of our whole intellectual con- struction of an organized world would thus~Fe> found in the existence of tendencies and needs summed up in the bodily structure, and the selection of such material of knowledge as is suitable for satisfying these needs. Even admitting that the order of events is much more obvious than it really is, it is impos- sible to get away from the psychological need of some occasion for noticing facts of order in particu- lar. A consciousness spread over the whole universe would be a consciousness of nothing. If, now, we consider the human organism as affected, for example, by hunger, such an occasion is at hand. Cer- tain connected sensations color, movement, noise, 14 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD taste, and the like will flash out from the dim uni- formity of the surrounding void, brought into a passing partnership, and raised to the level of con- sciousness, by their common relation to the absorbing act of getting food. Nor does this recognition stop with itself. The essence of order in the world is not merely the discovery of a particular and present sequence, but the taking of this asji_sec[uence that is going to be repeated in the future and become a gen- eral rule on which calculations can be based. Now, when hunger has once been satisfied under the con- ditions of an observed sequence, there is naturally going to be a certain predilection for this sequence when one is hungry a second time. Implicitly he will assume that the same things are going to happen again that happened before, for the very good reason that he has a direct practical interest in wanting them to happen. It may be that he will be disappointed, and then after a few trials it is likely that he will forget his earlier experience. But it is in I the nature of things that whatever has once issued successfully in the satisfaction of some need of life will, more or less dimly perhaps, be anticipated and looked for whenever the same need later demands expression. The world of our experience therefore becomes organized fundamentally after the pattern marked out by the needs of human nature which require satisfaction. Its order is originally an assumption made by us because it is practically worth our while THE FOUNDATIONS OF KNOWLEDGE 15 to make it. If we did not take for granted that things \\ happen in certain regular ways long before we can \ justify our belief on anything like approved logical principles, we should never come to the recognition of regularity at all. We should expiate our caution ' by a speedy extermination in favor of other beings of a less admirable and unbending logic. And there seems no reason to hunt for any essentially different explanation of the more generalized and intellectual aspects of the belief in law and organization. Such a belief evidently goes far beyond the bare facts of experience. To demonstrate empirically the univer- r sality of law, or even the universality of some par- ) ticular law like the law of gravitation, is an entire ; impossibility. It is only, once more , through assuming ' this at the start, and then setting to work laboriously to substantiate it by hunting out hidden connections and explaining away apparent exceptions, that we are enabled to make headway at all against the com- plicated and inveterate disorder of the world as at first it shows itself. And if we ask why the assump- tion is made, again there seems no better reason to give than that we are so constituted that we need to make it. We could notjive m_a world in_which we found no regularities of connection, and so the will to live spurs us on to postulate the order we recjuire on the chance of finding it actual, since only by making active search for it could in any case the chance come true. Now, of course this assumption that the future will 1 6 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD more or less resemble the past would be quite useless were it not that it is in some degree borne out by the facts. And accordingly we need to combine with this tendency of ours the other point that has been already noted, in order to get an account that will be true to experience. The_ disco very of order necessitates an active process of anticipation and selection on our part. But this does come home to us naturally as a process of discovery, and not of outright creation. The other aspect of experience also remains valid, according to which what actually happens appears in the last resort to be inevitable and out from under our control. Anticipation and selection on our part are always subject to the final test of fact, and for this we have to wait in a humble and receptive spirit. We may in part choose the conditions under which experience shall arise ; other- wise there would be no value to anticipation. But those conditions given, one sensation follows another with the character of fate ; it pays not the slightest heed to what we may happen to wish. The recog- nition of order, then, rests upon free initiative and selective will, but the quality of inevitableness still remains in the result. The anticipation is declared to be sound or unsound by the outcome, and this it is not for us to decide ourselves. Do the best we can, there comes a point when the issues are taken out of our own hands. We have simply to trust ourselves I to the stream of experience, which carries us whither I it will. THE FOUNDATIONS OF KNOWLEDGE 17 So far there has nothing been directly involved in the analysis of knowledge and its content which could not be put for each one of us in terms of our sense experiences and the connections which hold between them. Coming home to us as these do in an immediacy of feeling, they seem to lie beyond the reach of a scepticism which is deserving of much attention on the part of sane and reasonable beings. And if we were content to keep knowledge within these limits, we should have blocked out a certain particular philosophy which would be not incapable of a reasoned justification, and which would have at least this advantage, that it would do away at one blow with a multitude of puzzling questions with which in the past philosophy has conceived itself bound to grapple. But this does not completely represent what we believe naturally and spontaneously about the real world. Quite apart from our sensuously based experience and the sequences and harmonies which obtain there, most men will unhesitatingly grant that there is a great field of objects which we have reason to believe exist, and about some of which we possess a fund of more or less adequate information, but which nevertheless have a being of their own that is affected but little by our knowledge of them, and which will still continue after our brief lives some of them in all likelihood after all human lives have come to an end. Such a belief is, then, natural and practically uni- 1 8 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD versal, but it may be granted that it goes a step beyond anything that it has yet appeared necessary to entertain. Hitherto everything has been capable of being put in terms of immediate and person- ally verifiable experience. But such objects as we are now called upon to accept stand on a different footing. By hypothesis they do not form a part of our immediate experience as such, in the sense of being bodily identified with it. In order to get to them we have to take apparently a leap in the dark. How are we able to do this? Why should we not be content to stay within the narrow circle of light where we come directly into contact with the real? Or if we do try to get outside this immediacy, how are we ever possibly to find our way ? How can we tell when we hit our object and when we miss it ? how de- termine what of our supposed knowledge is adequate and what mistaken, since the reality stands out-there in its isolation and never comes within experience to be tested? In connection with the difficulty in answering such questions as these there has come into vogue a phil- osophical attitude, more especially in recent times, which will need to receive here some attention. It certainly would be the easiest answer to these problems if we were able simply to deny their rele- vancy. And we could do this if we refused to admit that conception out of which they all grow the conception of an object outside of experience and merely represented in our knowledge indirectly. THE FOUNDATIONS OF KNOWLEDGE 19 Why, so, roughly, the argument runs, should we think it necessary to go outside the actually experienced facts? Indeed, what possible meaning even could reality have for us except as it is experienced reality? And could it concern us, either, in any vital way ? Take these supposed external things. Are we in- terested in trees and houses, chairs and tables, as mysterious metaphysical entities self-enclosed in their own skins, or are we interested 'in the concrete personal experiences in which, as facts of immediate sensuous feeling, or in terms of thoughts or instru- ments of ideal guidance and orientation, these objects enter directly into our lives and stand to us for divers satisfactions and realizations of desire ? If this last, then why trouble ourselves to look farther and, it would seem altogether likely, to fare worse ? These concrete experiences are here undeniably, and noth- ing can take away from their reality. Why should we double their existence to no valuable end ? Why not hold, as indeed science the science alike of things and of the mind tends to suggest, that it is human experience which creates, not reveals simply, the world in which we live? Just as the seemingly so substantial fabric of social customs and institutions is in truth no original and independent fact, but the gradual construct of human reactions, built up bit by bit through accretions of experience, so we may equally well interpret even the world of nature. Did really the sun shine before there were eyes to see it ? But for science light is a fact of ex- 2O RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD perience, not possible till certain special organic con- ditions were attained. The actual sun, in all our com- mon acceptation of the word, in all that it means to us for practical purposes, does actually change with the new ways in which it appears to human eyes and to the human mind. And so of the whole mass of qualities, sensuous and intellectual, which enter into the making up of what we call things. To be sure, science may still wish to leave untouched a hypotheti- cal world of atoms and ether, say which it continues to put prior to all experience whatsoever as furnishing its ground and possibility. But why after all should we make an exception here? Why not reduce this also to, not an actually existing system of atomic bodies with all the enormous difficul- ties involved in such a conception, but there has been no better phrase suggested to a mere "per- manent possibility of sensations"? For the really ; important thing about the scientific world is that it is a system of law. But law is simply the expression of a sequence that is not beyond experience, but within it. We get laws by noting the lines which experience actually follows; and if it does not or cannot be made to follow these lines, then the law is stripped of all validity. Law is a fact in the world of experience; why not keep it to this world? It would represent, then, not an account of what is hap- pening or has happened outside all human experi- ence, but an insight into the hidden trend and ten- dencies of conscious growth, whose validity lies in THE FOUNDATIONS OF KNOWLEDGE 21 the fact that, extricated from its immersion in the immediate and the present, it enables us to predict what is later going to arise in the way of further con- scious content. From first to last its meaning is confined to experienced and sensuous facts. All this does not make truth any the less true, though it changes the meaning of truth. For truth is no longer \ the correspondence of our ideas to some objective fact. The true idea is simply the one which is sue- I cessful in leading to that sort of experience which j j is characterized by the feeling of satisf actoriness. To i issue into some more complete and harmonious' sense of attained desire is not only the test of truth, but the very meaning and content of the idea. This is a very brief and sketchy statement, but it will perhaps serve to indicate a line of thought which is rather common at the present day. It seems to be involved in the important and widespread ten- dency in philosophy which has taken the name of Pragnatism. The chief point once more with which I am at present concerned is this: that what we call an object of knowledge represents no dis- tinct and independent reality, but is to be identified rather with the act of knowing itself; that "things" have_ their entire^ bejng^ in J:he developing human experience. To meet this philosophy in detail would require a much more involved argument than would be in place here. I shall only take ac- count of the simpler and broader aspects of the situation. And I shall adopt the contrary position, 22 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD which is also the position of our common-sense belief, that there are a good many things beyond our ex- perience which we can only know mediately, and that between them and our knowledge of them there is a gulf fixed which can never be bridged completely in terms of immediate experiencing. And I am ready to admit that there is no compelling force of logic which drives us, whether we will or no, to take the leap to such an independent object of knowledge. If one is satisfied with a universe which does not overstep the narrow bounds of direct ex- perience, he will quite naturally have no reason for adding further and, as it is bound to seem to him, unnecessary postulates. First, then, it needs to be asked whether the position really does satisfy all our normal human demands. And to begin with there is one fact, and a fact of great significance, which will probably be accepted by nearly every one without argument, and which offers therefore a convenient starting-point. None qfjas has any practical doubt^that othgr people^ exist. It would be possible for a philosophy to insist with much acumen upon the difficulty or the impossibility of proving such a belief. But no such arguments can practically affect our confidence. The chal- lenge of the philosopher, if it cannot be met, is lightly disregarded. Instead of proving fatal to the belief, it strikes back instead upon the philosophical theory which presses it; such a theory we say is lacking in common sense, and if it is right in asserting that THE FOUNDATIONS OF KNOWLEDGE 23 we cannot show the reasonableness of the belief, then the only attitude for us to take is to try a little harder to discover its reasonableness, and not to settle back upon a point of view which excludes it. Now, the belief in other people's existence, what- ever its source and whatever its justification, is at least a belief in a reality beyond our immediate experi- ^ ' V - - J J ^- r- . - - - r ence. It is directed, that is, to an object which we accept, which is referred to, postulated, known, in our experience, and which yet never is and apparently f never can be a part of the same experience that knows } it. In relation to certain experiences of knowledge, those which I call mine and concretely every act of knowledge that we have any reason to believe in is a part of the life of some "me " it is a reality exist- ing separate and beyond. I say I have a knowledge of certain thoughts or motives or emotions in my neighbor's mind. I do not mean that I have ever experienced these immediately. Confessedly that is something I cannot do. I have had experiences of my own that help me to realize what they must be in themselves, but in themselves they are beyond the reach of my direct testing. Nevertheless I accept without hesitation their reality. They are actually existing facts. Perhaps at the very moment when I am thinking of them they have a being for this other self; but between them and my knowing thought there is a dividing chasm across which knowledge can, it seems, take this leap of ideal transcendence, but which is never actually done away so that the 24 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD two selves or the two experiences connect and flow into one. And no difficulties to be raised about this situation really affect my acceptance of it. It will be urged in vain that there is no possible way of getting out of experience ; that, if an object lies be- yond experience, there is no chance of testing the truth of my belief in it, since a correspondence be- tween two things which never come together to be compared is an act of mere ungrounded faith or credulity. The difficulties may puzzle me, but my belief remains unshaken. And one reason for this, if not the main reason, is that the belief has so intimate and necessary a connection with the most significant side of my life. The meaning of life would largely evaporate did I not feel myself in com- munication with these other selves, who are enjoying lives of their own that are real and positive facts of existence quite outside the representations of them that enter into my experience and knowledge. If, indeed, I were able to look upon persons simply as things, whose whole value lay in the use I could make of them, my reasons for maintaining their separate existence might perhaps be sensibly weakened. If I were to take ground entirely practical in the narrow sense of the term, it probably would as a matter of fact make very little difference to me whether what I call "things" really had a separate reality or not. Re- duce them to sequences within my experience, and if these sequences actually remained the same, I should on this count have suffered no essential loss. THE FOUNDATIONS OF KNOWLEDGE 25 If a perception to which I give the name "chair" v invariably were followed by a sense of support which I could count upon when I started to sit down, and if this could happen without there being anything in existence except the succession of sensations, visual, muscular, and the like, then there would be no practical gain for me in believing that the experience was somehow duplicated in an externally existing world. If the perception of a tree was accompanied with sufficient regularity by certain visual sensations that I identify with fruit, and these always had the possibility, on the intervention of the appropriate movements, of being succeeded by peculiar sensa- tions of contact, and these by taste, and these again by a gratified sense of bodily welfare and vigor, then once more there would be no strong practical advan- tage in having another series real tree and real fruit running alongside the first. And if we consider science as ultimately justified by the order into which it gets our experience, and the gain which comes from knowing what may be expected to follow after what, then science in discovering the laws which govern the sequences oL^sense experience would to that extent readily get along without an independent world. But now the pragmatist may be criticised, in so far as he denies the transcendence of experience, because of just this point : that he rests too exclu- sively upon the scientific motive, as if it exhausted all the demands of life. It would, indeed, be quite 26 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD possible to take towards men the same attitude that we take towards things. If it were only important to calculate their behavior in terms of its effects upon our own action, and for the use that we could make of them in furthering our ends, we might conceivably put all that had to do with them in the form of laws of sequence which should ignore as without interest the inner personal facts of direct experiencing. This is indeed the attitude which a great manipulator of human lives is apt to adopt, and he can thus calculate the lines of probable conduct, and attain to great practical efficiency in dealing with men, without hav- ing the smallest concern for the men whom he uses as self-conscious and independent beings. But for most people this attitude as a final one condemns | itself. To regard human beings as means and not I as ends is the most fundamental and most fatal per- ! version of the moral life. It leaves out of account those facts of love and fellowship which make for the integrity of personality as such, and on which everything of really social significance is based. And for this there is needed a recognition of the real existence of selves outside anything that is imme- diate experience for me. For fellowship in its very nature requires the give and take of two independent beings, each of whom recognizes the other, without however any merging of identity. The first and most obvious objection that may be brought against the pragmatist's position is then the / existence of other selves demanded by the social THE FOUNDATIONS OF KNOWLEDGE 27 aspect of experience. But now in some sense this undoubtedly will be allowed. Certainly every phi- losopher is anxious to escape the taint of solipsism. And the thing of which usually the pragmatist seems most desirous of getting rid is the independent real- ity of the physical world, and not of other selves. Accordingly the statement of the theory will probably be modified somewhat as follows : Reality is expe- rience ; but in saying this, it is human experience in the large which is meant, and not that of any private individual. In the development of human knowledge, then, what we call the material world is gradually built up. It has no separate existence, though it represents what is possessed in some measure by all men alike. For the human mind has been slowly shaped to certain ways of perception and interpre- tation which we, as individuals, inherit from our predecessors. And it is this common mental bias which renders our experience so apparently steady and well-knit, rather than an external something to which it has to conform. Accordingly it remains to justify the validity of our belief in some reality corresponding to what we call the external world, as well as our belief in other persons. I shall state, therefore, briefly some of my reasons for acquiescing in the common notion. And first, it should be noticed that already, if we grant the existence of other persons, in the sense which I have claimed is alone consistent with any natural and unbiassed view of things, the whole principle in 28 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD dispute has been admitted. If such persons exist as real and independent centres of experience, then it must be true that knowledge has in some fashion or other the ability to reach out beyond the experience of which it is an immediate part, and to make us cognizant of that which exists alongside of it without ever actually joining on in the form of a continuous stretch of conscious unity. But it is about the possi- bility of just this that the main difficulties were raised. If, therefore, we grant it here in the one case, the chief obstacle in the way of going farther and of accept- ing the existence of still other realities is already removed. There is a second way in which the existence of a world of things would seem to be already presup- posed in the existence of other persons. Speaking generally, the conceptions which we form of other conscious beings get their start in the strong natural tendency which we all have to interpret things in terms of our own thoughts and feelings and motives. This tendency indeed goes naturally far beyond what our more enlightened judgment comes to regard as the truth. Primitive man lets his own desires and emotions suffuse the entire world of external objects. The tree, the stream, the whispering breeze, are each alive and conscious much as he is conscious. The very stocks and stones he endows with a life patterned after what he knows of his own inner workings. Later on, mere inanimate things tend to lose the most of their anthropomorphic vestiture. THE FOUNDATIONS OF KNOWLEDGE 29 But it still seems natural to most people to think of the minds of animals as essentially human in charac- ter, and to attribute to our dogs and horses, and even to ants and birds and reptiles, much the same pro- cesses as those of which we are conscious in ourselves. Here indeed modern science does not lead us to reject the belief in so outright a fashion as where it con- cerned the inorganic world. We may still continue to suppose that something more or less vaguely analogous to the conscious life which we know in men exists also in the brute creation. But psy- chology goes more and more to render it probable that when we try to realize in detail just what under given circumstances is going on in an animal's mind, we have small reason to believe that our imaginings are able with any approach to accuracy to repro- duce the actual facts. Even the life of the higher animals is probably far removed from our normal waking consciousness, while of what goes on in the lower forms of life it is almost useless for us to attempt to form any conception. There is left therefore only the inner lives of other men to which our knowledge can be supposed with any measure of adequateness to reach. And here the basis of the possibility of valid knowledgejwould apjmrenfl^be tHe close similarity that exists_be_tween other human organisms" and the actiqns_jthrough which they express themselves, and our own. Re- cent psychology has pointed out that our knowledge of the content of other minds is largely connected 30 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD in its origin with the process of imitation. The re- sult which I get when I perform a given act I then assume is present also in the same act as performed by some one else, and proceeding on this assumption, experience has sufficiently justified my belief when the similarity of the acts is close enough. As simi- ) larity of structure decreases, so the certainty de- i creases that the attendant consciousness is the same, until at a certain remove we have to confess our 1 practical ignorance. But of the existence of states of consciousness similar to our own in other men, and of states of consciousness more or less analogous in the higher animals at least, we hold ourselves assured. And now the point is this: the whole possibility of the inference depends upon the prior assumption of the existence of real bodies mine and my neighbor's. Without the acceptance of so much as this, at least, of an independently existing world, the further assumption of other conscious states would have no basis and no mediation. A view which treated human bodies as simply elements within immediate experience could have no possible reason for making the leap outside experience to an inde- pendent conscious life. If the body were simply a part of psychological experience, why should we select it out and make it the basis, in the form of nervous changes, of that whole experience of which it is an insignificant fraction, much less set up a second experience in connection with another similar THE FOUNDATIONS OF KNOWLEDGE 31 part the .body of another man ? If I am to know my neighbor's mind, then, it can only be through recognizing that in connection with his body I come into contact with a real object not identical with my knowledge of it, and so thejreality^f other selves I stands orjfalls with that_qf an^xternal universe. The belief in other selves we refuse to give up, as I have said, primarily because it would take away too much from the worth of our experience. So far i I have let the assumption pass that there is no similar value attaching to the independent existence of the outer world, no live significance which the belief has. But now, further, the claim may be made that this is not true, and that in denying a transcendent object we lose something of importance out of life which would really curtail its meaning. It is quite possible | indeed that one should live within the narrow con- } fines of experience and be content with his lot, with no wish whatever to raise his eyes and gaze beyond. But most certainly to another type of mind, which J equally deserves consideration, the attempt would prove intolerable. The straitened boundaries of the universe would stifle him. To rule out the bracing and self-expanding sense of a vast beyond, the mys- tery of a great universe of being, the awe that comes in the presence of unfathomable reaches of existence and infinite possibilities of value and meaning, would be a loss from life for which all the advantages of a comfortable home-made world built close about our daily needs, with nothing superfluous and nothing 32 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD that we could not comprehend in practical terms, would ill compensate. In religion, more especially, we find that such a feeling gets widespread and un- doubted expression. A large element of religion is bound up with the world of nature, and this world conceived as vastly transcending human experience. It is the heavens that have always to the religious mind declared the glory of God, and the firmament which shows his handiwork. Certainly, to deprive the idea of God himself of its objectivity and tran- scendence would seem to the ordinary religious con- sciousness a mockery. And whether one feels person- ally the demand or not, he must at least recognize its historical existence and importance. But now it may be said that this argument is based upon the validity of our emotional demands, and is accordingly irrelevant. Presently I shall try to justify such an appeal to feeling more systematically. Meanwhile, it is enough to point out that these con- siderations do actually influence our attitude. And I have simply been attempting to throw doubt upon the assumption which many recent writers have brought to the question, that the acceptance, namely, of an outer reality is purely arbitrary and unmean- ing, and makes no significant appeal to us. If on the other hand, as I have tried to indicate, it is a live and emotion-stirring belief, this may not prove its truth, but it will at least keep us from an off-hand dismissal of it as not calling for much consideration. But, now, there is a further reason for accepting the THE FOUNDATIONS OF KNOWLEDGE 33 belief which is not open to this objection. For it is also, perhaps first of all, as a postulate of causal explanation that the belief may be justified. This too may perhaps need further explanation at a later point. Mean while 'I shall simply refer again to one of the obvious characteristics of experience which was mentioned at the start. There is in our experi- / ence, namely, a very large element of the arbitrary, \ the unexpected and incalculable even, the persistent \ and unescapable. And after we come to know the inner psychological laws and ends of experience it- self, we find ourselves totally incapable of reducing this to such inner laws in any complete degree. Sen- sations and perceptions cannot be fully explained in terms of psychological function. There are some things which break in upon experience to its total ruin and disorganization. There are many others which seem equally to thrust themselves in without any preparation in terms of what precedes in the organic life. Some of these may be utilized for ex- perience, some cannot. But in each case alike their appearance has no complete psychological explana- tion. We could not possibly predict by taking account merely of the laws of psychology at what point a new sound or sight might break in upon us. So, again, of that other class of cases where new perceptions do seem to have some psychological preparation by reason of the fact that we are anticipating them or actively searching for them beforehand. The ex- planation in terms of experience may be real, but 34 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD it is still not complete. The object we are looking for will turn up only under conditions which our experience did not fully determine, or, again, it may fail to turn up at all, or in a quite unexpected manner. Now, for such elements hi experience, recalcitrant to the inner teleological laws of experience itself, we demand as rational beings some cause, and the conception of a world of independent reality respon- sible for the influence of constraint and limitation which we recognize in experience is the natural and almost the necessary direction in which we look for this, constituted mentally as we are. If here something arises for which there is no accounting in terms that keep strictly to immediate experience, our ) normal tendency to look for causes will lead us to i postulate an unexperienced and therefore a trans- \ cendcnt cause. Of course it is possible to refrain from doing this. We may take the percept as a given fact, an ultimate, about whose appearance we refuse to ask further questions. But to refuse to ask questions is not to explain. And unless it can be shown that there is nothing that needs explanation, that the apparent determination from the outside under which experience rests is no legitimate ground for curiosity, then it must be claimed that a belief in some extra-experiential reality is a persistent demand of our rational nature. It is a postulate of the causal law. THE VALIDITY OF KNOWLEDGE IF it is true, therefore, as I shall hereafter assume, that what I call experience implies an unexplored and vast beyond, having laws and activities for which the narrow section of reality that enters bodily into the range of my conscious life, and of human life as a whole, is totally incompetent to account, and which on the. contrary it seems to be necessary to call upon if I am to get even a tolerable explanation of many of the facts which do enter into experience for me, then the justification of our knowledge would seem to have another and a difficult step to take. If experience the sort of experience that issues in my act and my belief were all that reality meant to me, certain questions which philosophers are accustomed to put would at once be emptied of all their significance. There would be no reality beyond our experience to which our knowledge could correspond, and so the query whether or not the correspondence is a real and exact one would lose its point. In such a case the truth of any belief would consist solely and exclusively in the success, the satisf actoriness, of the human experience to which it leads. I pass the judgment : These mushrooms are edible. The whole meaning of the situation, so 35 36 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD the pragmatist would say, lies in the fact that I wish to eat, or to sell, or to make some other definite use of them, and that the judgment is a necessary preliminary to such an act of mine. It therefore is true in so far as it has a successful continuance in this act for which it serves as preparation, so far as it works out to an issue that satisfies my anticipation. Such an experience of active satisfaction is the entire meaning that attaches to the idea of the truth of the judg- ment. Or, I assert that there is a God. The state- ment has meaning and is true if it issues in and interprets itself as a religious experience harmonizing my life and satisfying my aspirations; there is no question of an actual being anywhere existing inde- pendently of the spiritual consciousness of mankind. But, now, if there be a real universe of things that lies beyond the facts of immediate experiencing for me, then I cannot well avoid some reference to the ques- tion whether or not the nature of these realities is capable of being discovered. What is the world like in itself? Is my knowledge, which as knowledge is a mere part of my experience, but which seems to point beyond itself in the act of knowing, really com- petent to tell me anything adequate to the facts toward which it points ? Can we know reality as it is ? Is the mind of man, with its obvious limitations and imperfections, ca- pable of getting down to the heart of things, or is it not presumption in us to look for success in so vast an undertaking? The question has been asked and THE VALIDITY OF KNOWLEDGE 37 argued pretty much since the dawn of philosophy, and it has very frequently been answered in the negative. And such a negative answer in some more or less absolute form is still very often to be met with at the present day among those who are professed philosophers. I shall not enter here upon any ex- tended criticism of it in the abstract. The only way to establish a more positive creed is to show that there is such a creed which a reasonable human being can accept. But a few preliminary statements will perhaps help to clear the ground. And one may at the start dismiss without a great deal of ceremony one special form which the attitude sometimes takes. Philosophers have occasionally undertaken to show that it is possible to demonstrate in a perfectly straightforward and decisive way our necessary ignorance of reality in its own true nature. There are, according to this view, two sorts of facts -phenomenal or apparent facts, and absolute or real facts. It is to the first of these that our knowl- edge is confined. They are purely subjective and wholly unlike the reality which lies back of them. By the nature of our mental constitution we are incapable of getting outside this unreal world. We are dwellers in the cave, having commerce only with shadows, and our eyes are forever held from beholding the light of the outside sun. There is a true, an absolute reality. But we are compelled to recognize that this reality is quite unthinkable. For our human knowledge we are left with an absolute D 38 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD which is, as Andrew Lang puts it, a "sort of a some- thing," but which refuses any more definite charac- terization. There is a flaw in the structure of our minds which sets it forever out of our reach. It is Herbert Spencer who has been chiefly respon- sible in recent times for the currency of this particu- lar form of the doctrine of the " relativity of knowl- edge," and apart from his authority it is not likely that it would any longer be regarded as needing much refutation. It certainly has no advantage over rival philosophies on the score of simplicity or absence of speculative daring. It is only in appear- ance that it seems to renounce metaphysical ambi- tions. In reality it is itself a particular sort of metaphysics which has to be defended by arguments quite as subtle as those that any metaphysics uses. It is a perfectly positive theory of reality, whose main outcome is the special bit of knowledge that we cannot know anything. And this contradiction suggests the obvious weakness of the whole position. The point of the objection is not difficult to see. It calls upon the agnostic if we may use this rather indefinite term to stand for the doctrine to take one of two paths. If in very truth we know nothing of absolute reality, then let us live up to our privi- leges. Let us cease talking of a distinction between absolute and relative knowledge; the very distinc- tion is nonsense. If we are indeed shut up within the cave, then perhaps some being with power to observe both us and outer things might discover THE VALIDITY OF KNOWLEDGE 39 our knowledge to be unreal. But we never could make the discovery ourselves. If we do not know the sun outside, it is absurd to talk as if we could com- pare the shadows with the world beyond and detect their inadequacy. Some positive knowledge is necesf sary in order to give us ground for saying what a thing is not. The very possibility of a theory or philoso- phy of agnosticism is enough to show that agnosti- cism is not completely true as a fact. We may be ignorant ; but we cannot know our ignorance with- out at the same time being aware of the existence of that which the theory declares we cannot know at all. We cannot say that we are ignorant of the nature of a thing unless we know that at least the thing exists. We are ignorant of the precise tem- perature at the North Pole, but not of the present weather conditions of Utopia. Unless somehow we\ think it, a reality is absolutely non-existent for us. \ And just to the extent we do think it, it becomes a part of our knowledge, and therefore shares in all the defects that may attach to knowledge. There is a vast difference between not knowing that a thing is, and knowing that a thing is not. And more than a knowledge too of mere existence is needed if I am to be able to say that reality is not like its appear- ance. I must know something of its positive nature and conditions. I cannot say that the temperature at the North Pole, once more, is not a hundred degrees in the shade, unless I have a definite fund of positive and concrete information about it. 40 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD Or, if we take the other horn of the dilemma and admit that we know there is such a thing as absolute reality which is unlike the phenomena of our expe- rience, we at any rate are no longer complete agnos- tics. Knowledge of existence, once more, is at least some knowledge. Knowledge that this existing fact is unlike certain other and merely phenomenal facts is a little additional knowledge. And it is al- most self-evident that some even though a very little knowledge is not just the same thing as no knowledge at all. Of course it is conceivable that we should have just this little knowledge and none beside. But for the present I am speaking simply of the outright and a priori rejection of all knowledge on the ground that there is an established and entire incompatibility again note the con- tradiction in terms between the character of real existence and the texture of the human mind; and such a theory has nothing to do with the question of large or small. For the thoroughgoing and dog- matic agnostic, even a little knowledge is a danger- ous thing. His argument is directed against the possibility of any knowledge whatever, and if it breaks down in one point it breaks down in all. I shall have occasion to consider again certain features of the agnostic view of the world at a later point; meanwhile I shall consider this general an- swer sufficient for my immediate purpose and shall turn to another more or less related way of reaching the same outcome by a different road. After all, THE VALIDITY OF KNOWLEDGE 4! the dogmatic agnostic is met with rather infrequently, whereas what we may call unsystematic scepticism is one of the commonest of attitudes toward philosophy. By scepticism in this last sense I mean simply that tendency to a general distrust of philosophical rea- sonings and the possibility of philosophical results, based on no attempt at a demonstration of this im- possibility, but merely on the general confusion that reigns in the field of philosophy, the notorious difficul- ties in the way of a satisfactory issue, and the absence of such a basis of accepted doctrine as in other spheres we look to to give steadiness and ballast to our beliefs. After all the ages of laborious thought, what have we but a wilderness of conflicting asser- tions and ungrounded guesses? Who indeed can feel any strong hope that man with his poor faculties, that grope and stumble over the simplest problems, can ever probe the profounder mysteries of the uni- verse ? What do we know of the strange alchemy and secret processes in the laboratory where the world was fashioned, through which there rose this which we call mind, with its thoughts and ideas of the true and false? What reason should we have for thinking that this late and evanescent product is the measure of the deep from which it sprang? Are there not problems all about us which 0n the face of them are hopeless ? Space, the invisible net in whose meshes all existing things are caught and without which they would vanish in one another, and which yet itself is nothing ; change, the subtle artificer of 42 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD life, through whose magic things are made to live by dying, which brings stability out of an eternal flux, and is, only by ever coming to be ; force, a mathematical formula which moves worlds and explodes suns, and drives the wheels of the universe, surely before such mysteries the mind must rec- ognize its helplessness. If we are wise we will give up the task, and turn to other and more profitable matters. It is of course not easy to meet by argument a temper of mind which has decided beforehand that argument is out of place. But a few things may reasonably be said by way of bringing into view more clearly the nature and limitations of such an attitude. And it may be insisted, in the first place, that it is bound to show a large measure of arbitrariness. There are, no one will deny, a sufficient number of difficulties in the way of reaching a satisfactory phi- losophy of the universe. But then it is also no simple matter to get a satisfactory political theory, or eco- nomic law, or comprehensive chemical formula. Indeed, difficulties can easily be raised about the very simplest truths, which the wisest of men will find it hard to meet conclusively. If, therefore, we are merely basing our attitude on the existence of diffi- culties, of fluctuations and uncertainties in belief, to be a thoroughly consistent sceptic, a man would find himself committed to the position that he has no right to accept anything at all as true. But as a matter of fact, in any reasonable being this could only be THE VALIDITY OF KNOWLEDGE 43 the veriest pretence. We are, as Montaigne says, natural believers. A man can no more help believ- ing something if he is a thinking animal, than he can help breathing and still remain alive. If, accordingly, we once admit the right to believe, then unless we have some special reasons for ruling out directly certain classes of beliefs other than the characteristics which in some measure all our knowledge shares, we clearly have no business to stop arbitrarily at a particular point and say that beyond this belief can- not go. All I am justified in saying is that I cannot at present come to any conclusion about the matter, not that some one else may not have valid reasons for belief, or that I myself may not in the future see my way clearer. The fact that I am not as yet convinced furnishes no decisive ground whatever for the con- clusion that the truth cannot be known. It may indeed induce me to give up the search as hopeless. But this is just the theoretical weakness of scepticism. Scepticism, in other words, stands primarily as a dis- inclination to prosecute the search farther. It is a personal confession that in the face of a certain prob- ( lem or group of problems I feel myself baffled and ready to quit. And it is significant that commonly it is the attitude of the amateur, of the one who approaches a problem with only a subsidiary in- terest in it and who has not the time or the will to push through to the end. No man is a sceptic in every direction. Few men are sceptics in the special field which they have made their own. 44 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD Professor Huxley in our own day furnishes a good illustration of this. Professor Huxley is perhaps the most typical of modern sceptics in ultimate ques- tions of philosophy. He has gone far enough to see the difficulties of the problem, and his in- terest is not sufficient to carry him through. In precisely the same way and for the same reason he professes himself a sceptic in another field also the literary problem of the relationship of the first three Gospels. Here too he is satisfied to stop the inquiry in despair of any final settlement ; the prob- lem, he says, is in all likelihood incapable of being solved. And yet the one who has made a business of it, the expert in this particular field, would be very far from admitting that there is any valid ground for the abandonment of the task. And the significant thing is this, that Professor Huxley was himself the very opposite of a sceptic in other directions. Noth- ing can be finer than his robust faith in the future of science, and in the possibility of an answer to the most intricate questions which science has as yet 1 scarcely proposed to herself. Professor Huxley ) would have been the first to decry a despair of science ; as weak and wholly baseless. The difference is i simply a difference of interest. One problem he approaches as an avocation, the other as a business. He is ready to give up the first because he does not care for it sufficiently to carry it to its issue. The other he is determined to solve, and so he finds it solvable. THE VALIDITY OF KNOWLEDGE 45 The point is then that scepticism means a personal defeat and loss of interest. There may be nothing ( that can compel the sceptic to believe that a solution is possible. But, on the other hand, his attitude con- tains absolutely no reason why the problem should be given up, or why another man should feel the least hesitation about grappling with it if he wants to do so. It is wholly a matter whether or not the desire for the solution exists. If it does exist, a mere appeal to past failures will only act as a spur to endeavor. And this is just as true of an ultimate philosophical inquiry as it is of any minor problem of knowledge. The line cannot be drawn at any particular point. The sceptic has no more business to universalize i his own attitude than a child would have to demand , that everybody should stop playing because he him- ' self is tired. Granting, then, the fact that we do believe, and that all our theorizing must proceed from this assump- tion, we shall be justified in shutting out the sort of knowledge with which we are specially concerned only in case there is something about it which makes it essentially different from other knowledge, and such that the same tests will not apply to it. We need to make it a little clearer perhaps that this is not so ; and to do this it is evidently necessary to examine somewhat more closely the grounds on which we actually distinguish between those beliefs which we regard as valid, and those which we have no real business to retain. Of course we are as a matter of 46 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD fact continually making choice between opposing beliefs, and making it in a way which we feel can give for itself good and sufficient reasons. And without attempting any involved analysis, we can without much difficulty discover what the general character of the test is. We may take the case where two opposite opinions about a given matter are held by different men. Now, in such a case each man must of course be for himself the final judge. But this does not mean practically that a man has no guaran- tee of the superiority of his own belief beyond the mere fact that it is his. It is quite possible that he should see a logical justification for this partiality towards himself, so that his recognition of the other man's equal confidence would have and ought to have no tendency to disturb his own opinion. There are two ways in which beliefs actually are held, apart from the unthinking appeal to mere blind prejudice. Some beliefs we hold as probable, and yet when we come up against a strong difference of opinion, it shakes our confidence a little. We find ourselves hesitating and wavering, and if at last we come to a decision and reassert our belief, we still feel that we have no way of showing decisively either to ourselves or others that our opponent may not possibly be right. It remains to some extent just a conflict of authority, and we decide for our own side simply because we are ourselves, and no man cart in the last resort go back of what seems true to him. But there also are cases in which none of this hesita- THE VALIDITY OF KNOWLEDGE 47 tion is felt. The fact that some one disagrees with us does not in the least affect our confidence. In- deed, it may even strengthen our conviction. We feel that our final decision is dictated, not by the fact that it is to us as individuals that the casting vote falls, but by something in the situation giving us a logical precedence which it denies to our adversary, and enabling us to play the part of abstract and impartial reason. The practical ground for this distinction is of course more or less obvious. Generally speaking, we have a logical right, as opposed to a psychological disposi- tion, to prefer our own assurance to that of another, only when we are able to recognize the relative truth of all for which our opponent contends, see it from his point of view, and nevertheless can still find that we are able to hold to our own standpoint as more adequate and inclusive, as accounting for all the facts that he recognizes, and for others beside. No one is in a position definitely and finally to reject an opposing opinion until he can put himself sympa- thetically in the place of the one who holds it, and understand why it seems to him true. Just so long as we are simply in the polemical attitude, and find the view that we are opposing wholly irrational and absurd and false, so long as there is anything in it which strikes us as entirely without ground and motive, we may take this as equally a reflection upon ourselves, and suspect that the grounds of our own judgment are still incomplete and in need of partial 48 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD reconstruction. When, however, it is possible for one to say: I also should hold to my opponent's opinion if I were limited to his data ; but these new facts, or new aspects of the old facts, which he has failed to recognize, compel a different answer when one can say this, he feels himself on safe ground. The new facts need not be part of the immediate subject-matter of the problem in hand. They may be obscure presuppositions that exist in the background of our opponent's consciousness and create prejudices which affect his attitude toward concrete matters of opinion. Then we give what we call in a special sense a psychological explanation of his belief, and show how it springs naturally from these limitations of his mental outlook, which make it impossible for him to approach the evidence in a way to see what it actually contains. But in either case the general method is the same. We feel ourselves logically justified in overriding another's opinion, because we think that we have a point of view which includes all that our opponent sees and enables us to admit its relative justification, but which also goes beyond this and presents a more inclusive system of facts. t What, therefore, we are trying to attain in that conception of the world, or of any part of the world, which we are to accept as true, is the bringing of all the relevant facts together so that each one in par- ticular, while standing out itself distinctly and suffer- ing no obscuration, shall yet come in no sort of con- THE VALIDITY OF KNOWLEDGE 49 flict with other facts, but shall be recognized rather as entering into consistent and harmonious relations with them. We are striving to get a comprehensive picture of things in which each part throws into relief and supplements the rest, a consistent plot in which everything moves toward a single result, and no element has to be ignored or thrust out because it clashes with the fullest possible harmony. Of this comprehensive result certain laws or generaliza- tions must of course be valid. But we must beware of resting too easily content with mere generaliza- tions. A law must always be capable of being trans- lated back into and of summing up the definite con- crete realities of experience. The picture at which we aim must ultimately be composed of these con- crete data, of such a sort that we are able alike to interpret them, as data, in immediate and intelli- gible terms, and also and at the same time connect them in intelligible relationships with other facts. It is equally fatal to have nothing definite to relate, and to be unable to relate that which we have. We may say that the test of a true opinion is its clearness, if we interpret the word not as the mere vividness, intensity, emotional force of the belief, for this is no guarantee of truth, but rather as the clearness of an articulated system in which all distinctions stand in sharp relief. Now in this there is no fundamental difference to be made between philosophical theories and those of any other sort. Some of the plausibility that 50 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD attaches to the denial that philosophy is possible depends upon the assumption that it claims a right to the use of methods differing essentially from those of science and everyday reasoning. Your results, the scientist is apt to say to the philosopher, are viti- ated at the start for the modern thinker by reason of the fact that you depend upon a method which the whole history of thought has shown to be inadequate. This is the method of a priori reasoning. Philos- ophy is an attempt to construct the world outright from the fine-spun threads of mere thought or logic or transcendental intuition. It is like trying to lift yourself by your own boot straps; there is nothing solid to give you leverage. One who knows any- thing of the history of thought does not need to have it proved to him that any new attempt to apply this method will be unfruitful. He feels himself justified in ignoring it without further argument. The only possible way in which to advance knowledge is to come back frankly to facts, to experience, to the realm where verification is possible. Doubtless the philosopher has sometimes at- tempted the thing of which the scientist accuses him. But if so, he has always met his reward in the shape of incredulity and failure. I have no desire to make for philosophy any such claim, or to vindicate for it a method of its own. If philosophy means high a priori speculation, the product of some hypothetical faculty of mind out of relation to experience, then the objections to it are indeed invincible. But no such THE VALIDITY OF KNOWLEDGE 51 claim has any need to be made. On the contrary, the whole problem of thought is summed up once more in the attempt to understand experience. Any aspect of experience disregarded means necessarily an imperfection in the result. The method of thought is everywhere one and the same. It begins with certain things assumed provisionally to be facts. It finds for some reason or other that these facts, these interpretations of reality, are in apparent conflict, or in some way fail to satisfy us, so that their right to be called facts is after all in doubt. And in order to heal the quarrel it looks for some wider point of view, still in terms of experience, which shall resolve the contradiction, and complete and correct our former partial and inadequate understanding. j^ilosophy_differs from other thinking only in the_ comprehensiveness of Jts__aims. It strives to get a conception which shall find a place for every fact of experience; it attempts a complete instead of a partial harmony. This, of course, makes its task difficult. But it does not commit it to any new or questionable method. This implies, it is true, that there is a sense in which philosophy transcends experience. But in just the same sense science also transcends experience. No scientist contents himself with talking simply of the collection of particular facts which he or his fellows have experienced in the past. To explain these facts he is constantly using hypotheses. These hypoth- eses take him far beyond the range of the limited 52 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD field which represents his past particular experience. They stretch into the indefinite past, and into the indefinite future. They enable him to assert what must have happened before man appeared on the globe, and to predict what will happen thousands of years hence. Every hypothesis is recognized by him as having, potentially at least, a universal value, whereas his experience is strictly limited. Nor does he distinguish in a hard and fast way between fact and hypothesis, as if the former alone were truth, the latter mere guesswork. Often his hypotheses, in the form of what he calls the laws of nature, are for him the most ultimate kind of truth. He even uses them to test the truth of his apparent facts, which may, and with justice, sometimes be rejected because of the demands which they impose. In this same sense, therefore, philosophy also uses hypotheses which go beyond the bare facts of experience. The only thing in both cases is to see to it that these hypotheses are well grounded. They must not be arbitrary. They must not introduce realities which are unknown to our experience. They must be capable in some way of being tested. They must really succeed in ex- plaining the things they set out to explain. No doubt philosophy has often erred in these respects. But so too, sometimes, has science. About the right to use hypotheses, however, there is really no ques- tion. ^ The outcome, then, is simply this : that for an a priori scepticism in the face of attempts at an ulti- THE VALIDITY OF KNOWLEDGE 53 mate interpretation of the world there is no justifica- tion. What one has indeed an undeniable right to do is to furnish such reasons in particular as he can to show wherein a given solution is inadequate, where it fails to be self -consistent, or fails to include all the facts. But the offhand dismissal of the case as not offering any matter for argument is as uncalled for here as in any other subject of human knowledge. We may go ahead with the endeavor, provided always we feel it to be worth the while, undeterred save by such criticism as can give a sober and rational account of itself. There is, however, one thing further that needs to be said about the grounds of belief before we are ready to take up directly the problem of religious knowledge. There is still another actual and effec- tive reason which does as a matter of fact determine our beliefs, and that is our emotional desires. That we all have a tendency to accept as truth what we want to believe is true, is obviously the case, whether or not we ought to allow ourselves thus to be affected. For the most part the logician finds it necessary to deprecate this tendency, and to warn us against allowing our hopes and fears, our likes and our dis- likes, to lead us aside from that cool and impartial scrutiny of the facts in themselves which alone can keep us in straight paths ; and his caution is without doubt practically justified. But when we look fur- ther into the matter jt seems impossible, nevertheless, to deny to our desires and our emotional nature a 54 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD very real and necessary share in the building up of our conception even of the world of knowledge. There has already been occasion to sketch briefly a certain large view of the nature of the progress of knowledge in its relation to human life. This bases itself, to repeat, upon the principle of modern psy- chology that all our mental processes are essentially selective in character. Had we no guiding thread to the labyrinth of the universe, we should be abso- lutely helpless and overwhelmed amid the enormous complexity of our surroundings. But as it is, we are in possession of such a clew. We are not let loose to try, unguided, one after another all the infinite pos- sibilities of existence. The dice are loaded. With- out at the start our knowing why or how, our feet are led into certain pretty definite paths, without our being left to flounder helplessly on the bare chance of striking some hidden trail. In other words, we are born with instincts. We come into the world as beings with a more or less determinate nature. Our life consists in realizing the interests which rest upon this instinctive basis, in giving expression to the possibilities of experience and action to which we are by nature inclined. Except as it gets into relation to these, nothing can by any chance mean anything to us at all. Now what is true in general is true of knowledge in particular. For human beings knowledge is an instrument one of the great instruments indeed to the realization of a full and complete living. We THE VALIDITY OF KNOWLEDGE 55 do not seek to know as a purely impartial exercise ; of an independent and unattached mind. Back ' of knowledge lies the motive force and directing impulse of a rich and complex nature craving ex- pression and a satisfaction for its active demands 1 upon life and the universe. In the large, and in the long run, we are bound to find some account of things which will make for human happiness. This is why we think at all. It is not to know truth merely, but to attain to satisfaction through knowl- edge, even though this were to turn out in the end to be no more than the naked satisfaction of knowing. As a matter of fact, however, our demands are far wider than the demand of satisfied knowledge. We claim the right to find a universe in which, not ; a thinking machine merely may live, but a man. j These demands we bring with us to the task of think- ing. They guide it. They alone explain its per- sistency even in the face of discouragement and apparent defeat. Nothing short of a truth that satisfies will hold the field, simply because man refuses to accept defeat, and will refuse so long as the springs of action remain what they are. If by any chance he could fully convince himself that the facts of the world preclude such a final satisfac- tion, even then a philosophy which asserted this would not hold the ground, for man would cease at the same time to think and to live. ^ But now, within the realm of our knowledge there are, if we are to be clear about the matter, two main 56 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD aspects which it is convenient to distinguish. In the first place there are the things which we call facts in the narrow and special sense, and which represent in general the subject-matter with which science has to do. Now even in the realm of what to most men seems the hardest and most stubborn sort of fact - material fact what has just been said remains true. The fundamental sense of reality as applying to anything whatsoever lies in the relationship to some need or demand. The^real" is that which ^nables_us to satisfy ^ur_actiYe_ impulses. If we could conceive the animal consciousness as starting out with a purely disinterested attention to whatever turned up, backed by no outgoing tendencies to serve, such a consciousness, even if it were possible at all, could hardly be called a consciousness of reality. It would take the form at best of mere floating images, unattached, empty, unpersisting. It is only when we regard the animal as from the beginning active, as groping blindly for satisfaction, that we see how the sense stimulus that stands for the satisfaction of this need has the possibility of quite another value. In other words, what we call real things in the physi- cal world are things which stand for the satisfaction of the organic will. They are the means to the real- ization of the bodily life, which have reality because we require that they should be real. It is the insist- ence of the need which lends reality to that which will satisfy it. And when for any reason this insist- ence fails, if, for example, a great grief deadens the THE VALIDITY OF KNOWLEDGE 57 springs of action, we begin to lose our grip on the actuality of things, and they become strange to us, far away, and unsubstantial. So any philosophy which, like that of the East, maintains as a tenet the utter unreality of the world , grows out of and necessarily depends upon a starving of the active nature ; and it attains the goal of conviction'to the extent to which it is successful in crushing out desires, and in culti- vating a state of quiescence and indifference. In general, conviction is apt to fluctuate with the strenu- ousness of our mood and the pressure of active needs. As Montaigne remarks, " After dinner a man believes less, denies more ; verities have lost their charm." This would appear to be the reason why as a final criterion of the reality of a thing we appeal to the sense of touch rather than of sight or hearing. It is only in connection with active touch that the thing comes to perform that active service for the bodily needs which is the final basis of its reality. But now there is another and equally important side of knowledge. Over against what are commonly j termed facts, there are also certain aspects of experi-1 ence which may be called values, ideals, distinctions j of worth and importance.. Value is something that ' has no place in the physical world as such. There a fact is a fact, and it is equally a fact with anything else that exists. The scientist is not concerned with approving or condemning his atoms or forces. His universe is devoid of all reference to such an attitude. But when we come to the conscious life the matter 58 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD is wholly changed. Here judgments of value are interwoven with the whole fabric of our experience. It may almost be said that facts are no longer impor- tant^ but only the worth of facts. In the physical world nothing is unimportant, nothing is more im- portant than anything else. But in the conscious world a thing may be a fact, and yet be profoundly irrelevant and trivial. Thejwhole growth of human experience has been in the direction of a progressive discovery of what is really worth while* Art, re- ligion, literature, social ideals, moral achievement - these are the significant aspects of man's life in the world. And these are every one not affairs of mere fact, but of the value of facts. Man's full life does not consist in the abundance of his knowledge of those things which happen merely, and which can be reduced to orderly sequences of events. By far the most important part of his universe is constituted by those subtler facts of the spirit which science passes by. Admiration, hope and love, faith and the inner insight, visions of beauty and of goodness it is by these that we truly live, these are the matters that really count. Of course it is true that science recognizes the existence of these things as facts of psychological experience. But it often happens that this admis- sion is itself made a reason for denying to them any other and more ultimate reality and truth. Because their adoption is the outcome of human preferences, as undoubtedly it is, they are merely human, merely THE VALIDITY OF KNOWLEDGE 59 subjective, to be given no weight in our estimate of how the real universe is constituted. It is the essence of the narrowly scientific attitude that for it values have no objective existence, no place, that is, in the universe beyond man. It is called upon to concern itself simply with the question: What hap- pens, and how does it happen ? The act which the moral judgment pronounces bad is for physical science precisely on a level with the act which we call good. The ugly object is equally real with the beautiful. The fact that the latter happens to affect us in a certain way is wholly incidental for the un- derstanding of its real nature. But while such an attitude is of course entirely proper for certain limited scientific purposes, if taken as a final philosophy it would seem to be rather a prejudice than a rationally justified conclusion. If it be so that man has inj his nature inexhaustible springs of feeling, emotional' demands that are deep-seated and permanent, and that suffuse his whole thought of the requirements which he makes on life, then to keep them from f influencing his judgments upon the nature of thej world will be not only an impossibility, but an incon- sistency. For nothing that science postulates rests in the last resort upon an essentially different founda- tion. From centre to circumference reality, in so far as it stands for anything beyond the bare facts of immediate experiencing, is, once more, a postulate of the will, or if one prefers, of life. The whole content of knowledge is an assumption a well- 60 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD grounded assumption it may be, but still an assump- tion. Facts are themselves ^alues. They are facts to us because they meet a need, because they are worth something. The only difference between facts, and values in the ordinary sense, is due to the presence or absence of the emotional realization. j Physical facts represent certain values for the bodily life which have got themselves so well established ( that they do not need the impetus that comes from special conscious realization in feeling terms. In the ultimate sense I cannot demonstrate, for example, aesthetic truth. I take it as true because it appeals to certain demands of my nature. But it is equally impossible to demonstrate the simplest object of sense or the most fundamental physical law. Of course there is a sense in which physical beliefs have a certain practical and historical advantage over the spiritual. They are more absolutely essen- tial to our existence, and consequently have become more firmly organized. A man can disbelieve in / beauty and goodness and still maintain an existence ; ! he cannot disbelieve that food will nourish and that fire will burn. This relation to the necessary con- ditions of existence has brought about by the process of selection a uniformity in some beliefs which is lacking in others. Every man believes his senses, but not every man believes his higher instincts. But nevertheless at bottom the evidence is the same ( in kind. We believe the evidence of the senses, not because we can demonstrate it, but because THE VALIDITY OF KNOWLEDGE 6 1 we have to accept it as true if life is to go on. We accept the validity of the spiritual values of life for the same reason because we find ourselves so constituted that we demand their validity. It may be said that there is an inevitableness about physical beliefs which does not attach to the spiritual. This may be so ; but again the difference is one of degree and not of kind. Man does not arbitrarily create, for example, the laws which rule the moral life. He discovers them. And no man can persistently set his private will against these laws without in the long run having to realize that the universe is against him, and that he is powerless in the face of realities too fundamental for him to alter. Logically, then, there seems to be no reason why certain particular impulses in the nature of the self should be selected out as alone having objective validity. Moral distinctions, aesthetic taste, reli-t gious reverence, social affections, are all facts off experience, and facts of a stubborn nature. They are as real as the things with which the physicist is wont to deal, and they have as good a right to be considered in the final estimate of the world. We cannot brush them aside without giving up the most precious fruits of human history and experience. These take primarily the form of values. They are values whose hold upon the human mind depends on the belief that somehow they are grounded in the nature of things. There is no man but acts every day upon a tacit belief in the validity of values. 62 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD Apart from this he would cease to act. They are the atmosphere that encircles his life. The scientific spirit itself is only the expression of one set of values the worth set upon truth and the intellectual vir- tues ; and it cannot be allowed to displace all others offhand. Accordingly the attitude of a cold intel- lectualism which is unwilling to allow to feeling any rights whatever in the search for truth is narrow and one-sided. This is too commonly the attitude of the scientist. The whole business of thought, it is said, is to free us from the enthralment of f eeling. It tries to look upon the world with the eyes of cool unpreju- diced reason, leaving behind all endeavor to find things as we want to find them. We are learning to recog- nize that the truth is not necessarily agreeable, that the world is not built to meet our personal demands upon it. And it is the part of the wise man to school himself to discredit the demands of feeling, and to expect but little from life. Now no doubt it is true that emotions are often dangerous to thought. Cer- tainly it is not to be recommended that when we sit down to philosophize we should be in a highly wrought emotional mood. But, on the whole, I do not know that emotions are more likely to lead us astray than a highly cultivated emotional indiffer- ence. Such an indifference is as abnormal as it is impossible of complete attainment. It is not well for us to make too slight demands upon the universe in knowledge any more than in action. We may avoid certain risks of error; but the risks of over- THE VALIDITY OF KNOWLEDGE 63 caution are no less real than those of a more positive sort. Rationality ought to be inclusive of the feeling side of life, not opposed to it. Otherwise we defeat the ends of reason. Reason is a comprehensive^ means of satisfying the demands of life ; and to make it an exclusive end in itself is to deprive it of its nor- 1 mal place in experience, and of concrete content as t well. This relationship of feeling to rationality needs perhaps a somewhat fuller statement. Such a state- ment to be complete would require a more extended examination of the psychology of emotion than can very well be attempted here. The nature of emo- tional feeling and its place in experience is indeed still somewhat obscure, notwithstanding the large amount of attention that has been given to it in recent years, and probably any attempt at a final estimate would be premature. It will be sufficient for my present purpose to suggest briefly, and to distinguish, two chief aspects of the relationship of feeling to knowledge which stand on somewhat different planes, but both of which give to the emotional impulses a certain claim to be considered by the philosopher. And, first, there is apparently a value which emo- tion has in a purely functional way, not as supply- ing primarily a content to knowledge, but as an in- strument of conscious growth; and this connects itself with just that feature of emotion which on the surface seems least likely to serve the purposes of knowledge. Emotion, that is, we are apt to think 64 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD of first of all as tumultuous, disturbing, a hinderer of normal and rationally effective thought and action. As I shall indicate presently, I do not think that this is true of all emotional feeling. But it is a note- worthy aspect of emotion in its most striking form -the form which most easily compels attention to itself; and it is the feature which is responsible chiefly for the ill repute that emotion has among philosophers as a disturbing element in the process of thought. In reality, however, this very tumultuous- ness and apparent interference may be held to have a real importance even for the growth of knowledge. To put it roughly, it stands for an instrument of discovery, a means of bringing to consciousness the value of our native impulses or tendencies or powers, to which, as I have maintained, the life of knowledge goes back. Of this aspect of emotion at any rate Professor James's theory seems to be essentially true. It con- sists, very largely at least, of bodily sensations con- nected directly or indirectly with certain instinc- tive reactions that grew up originally because they were more or less useful in the particular emotional situation. But now the peculiar intensity of the emotional experience does not seem to belong to the occasions when these useful reactions express themselves freely, and are carried out to their appro- priate issue. Action is indeed commonly recognized as a relief to the emotions. It is rather when there is a tendency to expression that falls short of the full \ THE VALIDITY OF KNOWLEDGE 65 and normal activity, when the outgoing current is thrown back upon itself and overflows into a mass of relatively unorganized bodily changes, that we get the strongest organic sense of emotional disturb- ance. Anger whose expression is checked while I still continue to "feel mad" and have the tendency to expression, is, other things being equal, charac- terized by a stronger emotional feeling than the more aggressive state which relieves itself by actually hitting out and having it over. We can hardly feet the emotion of fear so acutely when we are running with all our might from the dreaded object, as when we stand hesitating and trembling, alternately start- ing and drawing back. And it is at this point that the possible value of the emotional disturbance lies. Such a feeling may be of the greatest importance if it forces on our consciousness a realization of the significance of these impulses which are checked, and which might never have been valued justly had they not been forced to struggle for expression. The great problem of rational life is to adjust our originally chaotic impulses. Asserting themselves too easily, they pass and are forgotten, and when the day of deliberation comes, of taking account of stock, they fail of their right estimate. Or, blocked by^more imperious needs, they simply subside, and do not get expression at all. But pushing out blindly and ten- tatively, and in their struggle to assert themselves bringing about the upheaval of our whole nature in an emotional crisis, they not only force us to attend 66 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD to them, but at the same time they give a rough measure of the real importance we should assign them in the economy of life. Thus the emotional feeling of grief, for example, is one of the surest reve- lations of the worth that things really possess for our lives. A great grief often results in overthrow- ing our conventional estimates completely, and giving us a new outlook upon experience. Once more, then, the world which we accept is the world which our self-expression demands there is no other ground of acceptance. Growing knowledge is thus the instrument of self-realization ; it is the satisfaction of the will. But the process of self-discovery, as a coordination of powers, is a long and difficult one. And an essential step in the pro- cess, and so in knowledge, is the emotional disturb- bance to which the struggle for expression gives rise. It is this originally vague feeling which gives our first clew to the importance of the impulse. Of course the claim is not final. It has to be scrutinized and criticised. But an emotional claim which is per- sistent, and which is a human claim rather than my peculiar private experience, is prima facie justified in being taken very seriously. Emotions have dan- gers of their own. In the form that has been so far considered they belong to periods of adjustment, of coming to self-knowledge, rather than to that of full fruition when we have entered on the heritage of ourselves. The period of greatest emotional intensity is thus the period of youth, when habits THE VALIDITY OF KNOWLEDGE 67 and character are in the process of formation. The same degree of emotional disturbance later on, when our lives are supposedly set in definite channels, would only be a hindrance to efficiency. And the fact that thus they often are designed to bring to light some value unrecognized or in danger of being forgotten, makes it necessary that they should have an imperiousness and one-sidedness which are likely to result in overemphasis. And yet, if we did not trust them, we should be at a loss to estimate the relative weight of the various impulsive sides of our nature, save perhaps as we could reduce these to terms of their contribution to our barely physical existence ; in other words, there would be no means of attaining to a knowledge of our spiritual selves and of the spiritual world. But now let us suppose that the period of storm and stress is past, and we have attained to some measure of self-knowledge. Is feeling's occupation gone? When it has helped to organized and har- monious conduct, does it pass away, leaving just a perfectly adjusted mechanism of action? Clearly I should say this is not so ; at least, it should not be so. For I think that without doubt there is a deeper and steadier quality of emotional feeling which not only is not prejudicial to effective action, but which is an essential element in all our higher active ex- perience, and which enters permanently into the content of our rational understanding of the world. Even Spinoza, with all his hostility to emotion, seems 68 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD to admit the metaphysical validity of the emotion of intellectual love, and this can hardly have any meaning unless it presupposes some actual worthi- ness in the universe which calls it forth. There is, it is true, a constant tendency in human life for action to become automatic and merely habitual, a tendency for us to lose therefore the realization of its meaning. % And by reason of this deadening effect of habit we ) never wholly outgrow the need of what I have called the emotional disturbance, to break through the crust of indifference, and call us back to a conscious realizing of ourselves and of what we are doing. But just in so far as this benumbing influence of custom gets the upper hand do we come short of the truest and highest sort of experience. Experience that is real and spiritual does not stop with mere ; doing. Our true lives are lived only as action carries i with it the full consciousness of its ends and relation- i ships. And this is no purely intellectual conscious- ness. It involves also and necessarily an emotional attitude toward the objects which are represented in our experience in terms of knowledge. What would social life be worth which did not carry with it the continued presence of those human feelings that are evoked by our relationships to our fellows ? How vastly less significant would be our dealings with the world of nature were we to lose from our experience the pervading sense of the beauty of this world. Such feelings are not merely incidental, merely preliminary. They do not involve any let-up THE VALIDITY OF KNOWLEDGE 69 in the efficiency of action. They are rather insepa- rable aspects of the spiritual or significant side of active experience itself. Accordingly the function of the emotional disturb- ance in bringing values in experience to light pre- supposes this other and deeper aspect of emotion, by means of which certain distinctions of worth and preference are interwoven through the fabric of real- ity which experience constructs. And if these fun- damental distinctions of value are a real requirement of life, if our moral, social, and religious experience is bound up with them, then the whole end of knowl- edge lapses to the extent in which we fail to adjust the more directly physical and logical values to them. We have not attained the satisfaction at which knowl- edge aims, and which is its sole final justification. We might, it is true, rest content simply with calling this aspect of experience human and subjective, and refuse the task of trying to fit it into the larger econ- omy of the universe. This is a common attitude, and practically it is often defensible. We decline to give up values for the guidance of our lives, though we find ourselves unable to go beyond this personal preference and perceive a foundation for it in the nat- ural world. But however satisfactory an individual may find this on personal grounds, at least it does not represent the full ideal of reason. For it means the baffling of the rational impulse. It leaves an aspect of experience, which practically is of supreme importance, outside reality in its most ultimate sense, 70 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD with no intelligible points of connection. Nor on the practical side is the situation one in which we can rest with complete and final acquiescence. That for which we really care we cannot well avoid, if we trust our natural instinct, carrying back somehow to the inner constitution of reality. Otherwise it loses inevitably to some extent. To believe that human morality, for example, is entirely incidental and unpreferred in the view of that last court of ap- peal, the ultimate background from which human life stands forth, is of a surety to detract a little, if we once thoroughly realize our meaning, from our faith in morality merely as a human fact. The only attitude which really goes with our premises is either that of a brutal ethical naturalism and wor- ship of force, or, at best, the light, half -apologetic irony of a Renan. What I am claiming therefore is this ; that in ad- mitting the right of feeling in the search for truth, we are not destroying reason, but fulfilling it. I do not mean in any sense that a man has a right to be- lieve what he wants to, undeterred by the claims of logic. There does seem to be a sense in which, as I have indicated, we may say with Hume that reason is the slave of the passions. Reason is mediate. It does not furnish us the matter of knowledge ; this goes back to the assertion of fundamental needs. But this is far from saying that reason has nothing more to do than find for us the way in which we may gratify our momentary desires. It is not a slave, but THE VALIDITY OF KNOWLEDGE 71 a trusted servant, who oftentimes knows his lord's will far better than does the master himself. For the higher task of reason is to assist in self-knowl- edge ; to teach the impulse, often blind and isolated, to understand itself, by showing its relation to the rest of life. Reason is the adjusting, the harmoniz- ing, factor in life. It takes the data which the asser- tion of the will supplies. But it transforms these data essentially by removing them from their iso- lation, and throwing on them the light of a larger experience. There is no essential contradiction, therefore, be- tween rationality on the one hand, and will or feeling on the other. Rationality is simply the impulse to harmonize our experience. Even the claim of reason is again at bottom practical. If a man does not want to be rational, no power on earth can make him admit the necessity of not contradicting himself. But if our natures are in any sense unitary, this impulse must be ultimately a necessary one. As philosophers we cannot without self-stultification deny its ideal claim. Still, practically we may be perfectly justified on occasion in postponing its satis- faction to some more imperious need. And theo- retically its satisfaction may well be premature and empty. For rationality is in itself an abstraction There must first be something to rationalize, to har- monize. A harmony may be won on too easy terms by ignoring part of the data. And it is primarily to our willing and our feeling selves that the content 72 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD of thought goes back. Thought and feeling are thus^alike necessary and interdependent. We must harmonize all the facts, and we must have all the facts to harmonize. It is perhaps unfortunate that a defect of logic should come to stand so exclusively to the philosopher as the unpardonable sin. Con- sistency is in a way his special business. But, after all, philosophy is more than mere logic or method- ology. Whatever growth in knowledge may be, growth in wisdom is most assuredly no mere record of logical analysis. Great changes in belief, epochs\ in our intellectual history, are seldom due primarily j to mere argument, but rather to the half -unconscious ripening of experience, the transforming and suffus- ing with new meaning of the old facts, brought about by processes lying back of anything we can put at the time in syllogistic form. What Newman says of his own development is true normally: "For myself it was not logic that carried me on; as well might one say that the quicksilver in a barometer changes the weather. It is the concrete being that moves ; paper logic is but the record of it." Accordingly, as I have said, an emphasis on the abstract need of logic may sometimes be a mistaken one. The appeal to reason which the scientist for example makes may often involve the assumption that the sort of harmony which has already been brought into a certain group of facts physical facts is final, and a refusal to take the trouble to go back of this ; and so whatever will not find a place THE VALIDITY OF KNOWLEDGE 73 within this particular grouping is for that reason to be rejected. In the face of such an attitude a man has a right to say if he chooses : I am not able to see J just where the reconciliation lies; but meanwhile ' there are requirements of my nature which your par- ticular interpretation does not satisfy, and I shall continue in spite of argument to hold that these point to reality and truth. Consistency is a jewel which 4 may be purchased at too dear a rate. If it is a ques- tion of giving up a good share of the content of life in the interests of a formal consistency, it may be the part of wisdom to take the former. Better a fulness ! of life which outstrips the logical insight, than an' intellectual satisfaction won by reducing life to Pro-: crustean limits. This ought to mean no disrespect to logic or to reason. It ought not to deny the pos- sibility of attaining to a harmonious insight, nor the desirability of this. But it may well be the wiser part to regard this provisionally as an unattained ideal, and to^pref.er a temporary defeat of reason, if it: leaves room for a richer harmony in the future, to a present but barren victory. Again I do not wish to give the impression that it is right to shelter a weakness in logic under the protection of a demand of feeling. The philosopher cannot possibly abdicate the task of striving for con- sistency. And in the long run a belief which per-j sistently refuses to fall in line with the less emotional aspects of truth scientific truth in particular ^ will inevitably suffer. Sooner or later any remnant 74 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD of blind feeling or aspiration, any mere setting of the will, must be beaten in the contest with the lead- ings of the rational insight. Present satisfactoriness to feeling is no ultimate test. Man cannot get away from the fact that he is a rational being, a searcher for truth; and in Plato's words, "a measure of such things which in any degree falls short of truth is not fair measure." I only insist that feeling sets a real problem for reason which is entitled to serious con- sideration. Other things being equal, an intellec- tual construction to which feeling can attach itself -the feeling of mankind and not simply of the individual has a commanding lead in the struggle for survival. The aim of reason then, as philosophy, is to intro- duce a large consistency into experience taken in its fullest possible extent; and this includes the pos- tulates of feeling. To limit its exercise to facts as distinguished from values, to confine its operations to the mere sequence of events, is to subtract with- out warrant from its dignity and function. But now, on the other hand, this is not to lose sight of the very real dangers and limitations which attach to feeling as a method of knowledge. And perhaps the largest limitation is this : that our feejings should not be allowed_to dictate to us what the facts in the ojdjnary_sense shall be. The wider interpretation of the nature and bearings of these facts will indeed be under some degree of guidance from feeling. But such an interpretation must always presuppose cer- THE VALIDITY OF KNOWLEDGE 75 tain definite particular sequences which we ought to accept with entire impartiality, uninfluenced in any manner by our hopes and desires. The ex- perience with which science has to do goes back to a source lying too deep in our natures to be displaced or denied or ignored by any philosophical summing up of reality that can approve itself. And so it is that for a sound philosophical method _the first and f mid^mentaLdatum js thejnaterial^wMdh without\ prejudice and without favor it must take over from science, as an _oj^ajiizeA_ac^mm^ofjhe facts of ex- perience ; and the central difficulty of its problem I lies in the adjustment of the more spiritual and sig- ! nificant human ideals to this stubborn core. Of course science may attempt to foibt upon philosophy a mass of extra-scientific assumptions and interpreta- tions ; these can be taken for what they are worth, and rejected if they cannot stand the test. But so long as it keeps within its rights, and contents itself with a bare unvarnished account of what happens and how it happens, science may fairly claim an authority which no demand of feeling can overthrow, and which philosophy therefore is bound to respect. And the basis of this fundamental place which science has in our modern constructions of reality is in the end this : that its facts and its laws are sub- ject to experiment and ^experimentaj^verification. It is this the possibility of verification which we have justly come to require nowadays in order to fix a thing in our system of truth, and take it out of 76 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD the realm of mere casual fancy and conjecture. And it may be admitted that truths of value do not admit of verification in just the same sense, with the same directness and precision and lack of ambiguity, as is often attainable in the realm of physical science. But yet in a real way verification is possible even here, and is demanded. If belief depends upon the needs of life, then that in the end will be accepted which actually works, which gives the possibility of free and harmonious self-expression. And accordingly there is continually in operation in the realm of our beliefs this checking and selective force. We have not the right to believe everything to which we may feel in- clined. It is not enough that we should make the demand; in addition reality must stand ready to meet the demand, to honor our drafts upon it. To the holding of a rational belief it is quite essential that we should have done this active experimenting, and should have been willing, moreover, to abide by the result^ The recognition of this qualification will take a good deal of the force from protests against the general point of view, on the ground that it makes no distinction between believing a thing true because we wish it so, and because we actually find that it is so. The former attitude we do condemn. But our condemnation is not due to the fact that the belief is a postulate, or even a postulate of feeling. We condemn it because it stops with a mere passive acquiescence in the first vague and half -formed desire which may or may not be a real and permanent THE VALIDITY OF KNOWLEDGE 77 demand without recognizing the need of a further test; or because it persists stubbornly in its first opinion in the face of new and conflicting results of experience that ought to be taken into account. Experiment then is essential to rationality, and along with the demand there must go the willingness of the universe to meet it. We do not have to take our I spiritual beliefs wholly on trust, and we ought not j to do so, any more than we take a scientific law wholly on trust. As science puts all sorts of tests to the universe in order to verify its law, so life makes its experiments to verify its intuitions of meaning. And until the experiments have somehow worked, we cannot rest with any assurance that this particular demand is justified. History is strewn with ideals, as it is strewn with scientific theories, which further experience has had in some measure to discard as inadequate. In the large sense of the word, there- fore, the consistency which truth demands is a prac- tical rather than a merely theoretical one. It is the consistency, not of facts merely, but of the concrete flow of life, and this includes of necessity our emo- tional needs. And just as we start out by assuming i that events in the physical world will be orderly, \ and find our confidence gradually justified by the < way in which the world comes halfway to meet our < requirements, so of our emotional demands. If human life becomes slowly settled, harmonious, and self -justifying, when we act upon the assumption that the universe has a certain ideal constitution, then 78 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD we have the same right, in kind if not in degree, to accept this as a verification of our faith, as we have to accept the progressive discovery of regularities in perceptual experience as a verification of our originally blind faith in order and reason. The conception of the ultimate task of philosophy i to which we have come is therefore this : that philos- < ophy is the effort to attain to a way of thinking about i the universe which shall satisfy us as complete j human beings, in all the richness of our activities and 'i aspirations. It is no mere knowledge of facts and laws as science is; it must find a place for wisdom also, through which this knowledge gets its legating upon life and the significance of life. For this task all fundamental instincts that make up human nature act as guides and clews, and they serve before- hand as determining conditions which any finally acceptable truth must meet. We 'can rest content \ with no result which ignores the demands of feeling, \ simply because our whole search is backed by such \ motives ; and even if we elect to stop short of com- plete satisfaction, there still lies behind this choice our concrete and instinctive self, mightier than any one-sided logical insistence, if not in us as individuals, at any rate in the race. RELIGION AND PHILOSOPHY WE are ready therefore, after this brief survey of the nature of knowledge in general, to come more directly to the main point at issue the justification of the special sort of knowledge which is involved in a religious conception of the world. It will be ap- parent that if we understand philosophy in the way that has just been indicated, the relation which it has to religion, as one of the great aspects of man's spir- itual experience, will be a very close and natural one. And the relation will appear still closer if we turn now to religion, and ask briefly wherein the nature of this also consists. And without stopping to justify the definition in any careful way, since this would neces- sitate a lengthy inquiry, I think it may appear that there are perhaps three elements which go especially to make up the religious attitude. In the first place, religion involves a belief in some reality which is regarded as having a certain status of power^ if we may use the word without a necessary reference to physical efficiency. This power or in- fluence may be regarded as personally wielded ; this it commonly is. It may take a form which has to be put in terms of fat, or of law, or of logical neces- sity like the God of Spinoza. It may be the com- 79 8o RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD pelling dignity of a moral attribute. But in any case the worshipper feels himself in the presence of that which is somehow at the centre of things, at the helm, and which is in a position to make itself felt for good or for ill. Furthermore, the reality which is thus endowed carries with it a certain flavor of mysteriousness - the basis of the religious awe. We may see power in objects or in our fellow-men, but this does not make our attitude toward it necessarily a religious one. If we can grasp it wholly, see into and around it, under- stand how it is exercised and what are its limits, we cease to stand in the religious relationship to it. The source of this opaqueness and mystery may be varying. It may be due to sheer ignorance at the' one extreme, or to an awed sense of perfect goodness 1 and holiness lying beyond our own powers of attain- ment. It includes the mystery of magic and the mystery of godliness. But it has to be present for one reason or another. And this variety of causes is one source of the difference in the objects to which religion attaches itself. The power which appeals to some men as mysterious is to others an open page. The priest who is in the secret of the thau- maturgy can scarcely be expected to have the reli- gious feeling of him who worships from a distance. The modern man of science will find it difficult to put himself in the place of the uneducated devotee of the supernatural. The frequenter of the court can hardly have much temptation to yield to the sense of RELIGION AND PHILOSOPHY 8 1 that divinity which doth hedge a king, a feeling indistinguishable at times from a genuinely religious spirit. The deification of rulers is indeed a frequent phenomenon of religion. The third aspect of the religious consciousness is already implied in the one first mentioned, and is needed to complete it and make it intelligible. This power would have no meaning for man except as it stood in some practical relationship to him. I am using "practical" in the widest sense. But in this sense the statement is self-evident. We never should take the trouble to recognize, much less to worship, that which had no possible bearing upon the de- mands of our own lives. If we try then to state what this relation is, in the most generalized form I think it might stand in some such way as this : God repre- * sents that power in the world, not wholly interpret- , able by us, and so striking us with some measure of v awe, on which depends such part of the attainment < of the valuable ends of life as we feel lies outside the ! scope of our own unaided powers. God is the ulti- mate demand we make upon the universe in the in- terest of our own complete living. He is the final conservator and guarantee of the values of life in so far as they do not depend upon ourselves, or on those beings with which we consider ourselves so famil- iarly acquainted that we feel in a way master of their behavior. I think that such a definition will include the great variety of expressions which the religious impulse 82 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD has taken. For the chief occasion of this variety lies in the great range which the values of life cover. When man is simply on the plane of physical needs, then God necessarily takes the form of an instru- ment to be utilized in meeting the exigencies of the natural life. He is a fetich, a helper or protector to whom to appeal, a being whom prayer and sacri- fice can mysteriously summon to the worshipper's aid, and whose mysterious power may be expected to work almost any needed miracle. Or, on the other hand, he may arouse primarily the emotion of fear, because the good of life calls also for the avoidance of surrounding dangers ; and the more these dangers press, the more man is conscious of the forces which lie beyond his direct control, and of the need of ward- ing off their power for harm. And since the demands of the physical life are always with us, it is not strange that throughout the history of religion the thought of God as the dispenser of temporal blessings, or as the possible source of evils, to be propitiated and his wrath averted, should have maintained itself per- sistently. But as man rises out of the limitations of his more primitive ends, other values more and more become significant for determining the conception of God. In particular do ethical and social values begin to stand as the fundamental ones. These demands again take many different forms, and are interpreted in many different ways. For the one whose inter- ests are in the realm of practical social good, and RELIGION AND PHILOSOPHY 83 who has no metaphysical turn of mind, humanity may take the place of God and become a religion. To the mystical temperament which is impressed most profoundly with the impermanence of the finite and the vanity of earthly things, God means the ne- gation of all that is particular and that can be put in terms of human thought, the guarantee of the eter- nal peace of nothingness. Or again the aesthetic value may rule, as in the poetic glorification of nature and beauty which is essentially religious in its char- acter. Or still again, as with Spinoza, an absolute of logic may be the ground of all things, where zeal for truth represents the great value of life. In the end, therefore, the aim of religion appears to be not essentially different from that of philosophy. Religion js_simply the^ recognition that life has spirit- ual values, and th^de^^^^t^^jvorld sbalLbe so conceivecrjs_to give a basis and guarantee_lor these values^ Philosophy substitutes the intellec- tuaT attitude for the more directly practical and emotional one of religion, and is concerned primarily with the matter of rational consistency ; but none the less is its final interest fundamentally the same. But now this relationship of philosophy and re- ligion has another side which particularly concerns us here. It scarcely needs pointing out that on the interpretation of reason which has been followed in the preceding discussion, a religious philosophy ought to presuppose and to recognize its dependence upon the far greater and more central fact of the historical 84 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD religious experience. And I wish to urge for a moment the bearing of this upon the attitude which we shall adopt as philosophers toward religious beliefs. There is a strong tendency in modern times to consider that a philosophy is rather weakened than otherwise by its coincidence with current religious motives and constructions. The main reason for this is perhaps the insight which historical criticism has given us into the irrational way in which religious beliefs have often grown up, their dependence upon the undisciplined play of a highly wrought imagina- tion, upon a narrow and selfish interpretation of human needs, and upon conditions of a merely local and temporary importance. And it is, of course, true that much caution needs to be used in estimat- ing the rational value of any religious formulation ; we cannot accept it uncritically./ Nevertheless, it is far from being clear that philosophy can safely cut loose from religion in its historical form. For cer- tainly religion is a human experience of very pro- found significance, so much so that its value will not here be considered a matter of dispute. It is assumed that religion is solidly grounded in human nature. The shallow rationalism which supposes that by a few arguments it can dislodge so vital an element of man's spiritual life, and which can proph- esy its speedy extinction before a scientific or human- istic secularism, no longer has the plausibility it once possessed./ Any sympathetic reading of history must RELIGION AND PHILOSOPHY 85 result in the recognition, not of course that religion will never cease to be the expression of human needs, but that at least it is a tremendously vital instinct, in the presence of which the attacks of the individual or the band of philosophic iconoclasts seem rather puny and powerless. And the existence of a large element of the irrational in the beliefs which attach to religion cannot be allowed to obscure this recog- nition. The only really fatal attack upon religion would be the proof that it serves no genuine human interest. But if the interest is there, if it is deep- seated in man's nature as a historical being, no grop- ing or fumbling on the part of those who first try to find an answer can discredit the essential demand. A being the nature of whose make-up renders him fundamentally inclined to get his experience into some measure of organized and intelligible shape cannot be persuaded, and rightly so, by abstract ar- guments of philosophical scepticism, no matter how plausible. And similarly, if there is in man a pro- found impulse to believe in a world in which he shall feel practically at home, and which shall satisfy his deeper and permanent cravings, such an impulse is bound to outlive the failure of this or that attempt at intellectual satisfaction. That the earlier forms to which the religious postulate gives rise are inade- quate no more discredits it, than the vagaries of al- chemy discredit the science of chemistry, and the postulate of order and law in nature./ But now this implies also that we should look to 86 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD find religion, as the main way in which concrete human experience has attempted to sum up its best understanding of the nature and significance of the world as a whole, becoming gradually more rational, more consonant with philosophical standards of truth, as experience grows settled and mature. /As a revelation of the motives, certainly, which experi- ence justifies, of the needs of human life which are to be adjudged real and permanent, and therefore to be taken into account by our rational theories, philosophy cannot dispense with the guidance of historical religious faiths. But, furthermore, it will not refuse such guidance either in the interpretation of these needs. It will suspect that in the higher and more developed religions the intellectual form is not separable in any thoroughgoing way from the needs lying back of it; it will naturally expect to find the development of religion more and more in the direction of a substantial truth of doctrine./ (Un- less, therefore, it feels prepared to substitute a ration- alism of the eighteenth-century type for the normal method of growth in wisdom through the accumu- lations of a massive human experience, it will choose to pay some respect to that less discursive, and more immediate and emotional, mode of construing the world which religion represents, rather than dis- credit it too hastily in favor of a more logically grounded belief.) /If the philosopher tries to show that there is no ineptitude involved in such a frame- work of reality as religion requires, in the form hi RELIGION AND PHILOSOPHY 87 which it has proved most adequate to human needs, as a point of attachment for religious feeling, but that rather this approves itself to the reason as the most satisfactory conception we can get for the understand- ing of the universe, he is only putting himself in line with the natural and continuous development of human belief ; and he has the right to a certain ad- vantage of position which this gives. The defender of a religious view of the world may fairly claim, in other words, that he is not merely adding one specu- lative fancy more to the heap of exploded systems, that he is not setting himself single-handed to out- face the solid and unshifting array of scientific and positive fact, but that he too has a weighty backing in the common religious experience of men, which gives steadiness and ballast to his efforts, and pre- vents them from wearing the appearance of an ar- bitrary tour de force. / Now of course, in attaching himself to any par- ticular religious conception, no matter what its place in the large historical process, the philosopher cannot avoid a certain appeal to individual judgment. The verdict of history is not absolute and unambigu- ous. In choosing one he has to discard in part the rest, and this introduces a certain element of the ar- bitrary. But this is true whenever man attempts to reason about anything. If a mere appeal to history settled truth finally, we could never pass beyond the dominant belief of the age. The situation is a much more subtle one. We cannot indeed subject it to 88 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD definition or formal rule, but it involves the interac- tion of both sides in the living growth of knowledge -the outcome of past experience, and the new insight that comes from a personal reaction to the problem./(l"he individual thinker must select and estimate. But at the same time he is not freed from allegiance to the past ; he gets a true basis for sound judgment only as in some real sense, though this cannot be mechanically denned, his judgment is dictated by history itself. I shall assume, therefore, that something of the weight that attaches to religion as such belongs also to that special form of religion Christianity which alone of the faiths of the world may be regarded as having shown itself to be in any considerable measure adequate to the needs of human life at the present day, at any rate in the western world. The time may come when Christianity is definitively bankrupt. But so long as it maintains its real vitality it may fairly lay claim to possess at bottom some measure of insight which experience itself is thus justifying, and which the justification of experience gives a certain right to be regarded as presumptively true. Such a claim is of course in no sense absolute. If it comes in apparent conflict with facts in some other sphere of knowledge, the resulting difficulties should be candidly recognized. That there are prob- lems, and serious problems, which have thus arisen is undeniable. Indeed were it not for these the interposition of philosophy would not have been RELIGION AND PHILOSOPHY 89 re quired.^ The justification by philosophy of a reli- gious view of the world will always centre about the clearing away of objections raised ; apart from such difficulties there never would any need have been felt for evidence beyond the evidence that comes from natural instincts met and satisfied. Accord- ingly there is no real cause to complain if certain things be taken at the start as having a presumption in their favor, provided one is ready to meet fairly all definite and positively grounded attacks upon his position. One has the right within reason to abridge the difficulties of his task by appeal to the verdict of experience, if the experience to which he appeals is vital, solid, an4 sufficiently universal/ To build a philosophy outright from the ground up, without using the concrete results of experience that have got their test in human living, is indeed a sheer impossibility, and involves an outgrown notion of the independence of the mind or intellect. And further- more, even in the case of a postulate of religion such as is apparently contradicted outright by some weighty evidence from another sphere of experience, we should still remember that it is experience which is contradicting itself, and that the coming to light of contrary testimony does not forthwith take away all significance from that to which it stands in opposi- tion. A conception which should succeed in recon- ciling the conflict would have, other things being equal, a better claim on our acceptance ; to denounce such an attempt at adjustment as mere apologetics, QO RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD provided it be not forced and artificial, is entirely unreasonable./ /And now, furthermore, it is of course to be under- stood that the attitude which is here taken carries with it no obligation to defend the Christian faith, or any special form in which it may be held, in its historical entirety. It is in any case only the essential and fundamental character of it as an account of the general nature of reality which concerns us; the rich gloss of dogmatic formulation, and the varied detail due to the play of imagination on the luxu- riant content of the religious experience, it is in no wise essential for a general philosophical theory such as is here proposed to take into account, what- ever the judgment as to the truth or religious value that attaches to this. But now what is to be regarded as essential in Christianity is of course itself also a matter of interpretation; different men may hold very different opinions about it. And as any in- dividual thinker must in the end select the opinion which appeals to him personally, there is intro- duced here another element of what from the purely historical standpoint we have to call the arbitrary. But this is kept within limits, once more, to the extent to which the interpretation is historically grounded ; the defect, if defect we choose to call it, does not necessarily cancel the presumptive title to our con- fidence which religion derives from experience.) 'There is a phrase which has come in recent years to stand pretty definitely as the accepted summing RELIGION AND PHILOSOPHY 91 up in undogmatic form of the peculiar message of Christianity. The phrase is a well-worn one, but that very fact makes it better fitted to serve the pur- pose which is here required of it to represent what, stripped of party differences, approaches nearest to common ground in the interpretation of what is most vital and central in the Christian religion as its founder meant it. I shall assume, then, that the meaning of Christianity is summed up, truly so far as it goes, and with some measure at least of adequacy, in this phrase : the fatherhood of God and the brother^ hood of man. There is implied here as an intellec- tual background (for we are not concerned at present with its emotional significance) a certain conception of reality/^nd this conception it is which I shall endeavor to justify philosophically.^ , (*The attitude which I am taking should again not be misconstrued. I have no wish to claim for any conception an uncritical acceptance simply because it is backed, actually or in appearance, by a popular religious belief. y Philosophy is bound to justify its results in terms of reason. It has to show, not merely that they are capable of being forced into harmony with some preconceived opinion, but that they are themselves the most satisfactory and the most natural rendering of the facts. It must take candid and full account of inner self-contradictions and external difficulties, and not brush them aside too lightly without a real reconciliation. But none the less is it true that a system which is the outcome 92 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD of a logical process merely is not on a level with one which also finds points of contact with the expression of some large and vital human experience. A view of the world which is backed by widely felt religious needs has a far greater weight of natural plausibility than could possibly belong to the most closely rea- soned and rigidly articulated system that should voice no more than the logic of a lonely thinker^ fOi the presuppositions which would seem to be implied in the interpretation just referred to, there are three which will serve as the main text of the subse- quent discussion. ) For religion as thus formulated it is evident, first, that the objective universe is inter- preted in terms of meaning or value primarily, not bare fact or bare sequence of fact. In the second place, this meaning is connected fundamentally with what we know as social relationships, and there- fore the existence of persons is the most important and significant thing that the world reveals. And, finally, beyond and above the existence of human persons there is the reality of God, whose nature involves, however, in some true sense, no new kind of reality, but the same essential fact of personality. j I shall go on without further delay to consider these points in detail, commencing for various reasons with the first of them the right to interpret the world in terms of meaning, or purpose, or ends. ) THE ARGUMENT FOR PURPOSE THE argument from design has without doubt been the most virile and the most convincing of all the proofs of the existence of God that have been offered for men's acceptance. It is not simply the ignorant and the unthinking who have availed themselves of it. Most men of solid intelligence who are en- gaged in practical rather than in speculative pur- suits would be likely to feel that it has at least some measure of force, and among philosophers themselves it has enjoyed a general repute, and has commonly been regarded as a very respectable attempt at ar- gument even when its cogency has been denied. In its historical form the argument has usually been concerned with pointing to a variety of particu- lar facts in the outer world which seemed to require for their understanding a directing intelligence. Any fact that revealed order and harmony might be used for the purpose the movements of the stars in their courses, for example; for to the naive mind order and intelligence seem one. As, however, the conception of impersonal law came to familiarize itself, the idea of order tended to be replaced by that of adaptation. The stress was laid on that more limited group of facts in the case of which some 93 94 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD definite and intelligible end can be pointed out, for the attainment of which there are found in nature definite instruments that serve as means. Such facts show themselves most clearly and convincingly in the realm of animal organs and functions, and ac- cordingly it is here the emphasis came finally to be centred. And so long as it was the general opinion among scientists that animal species as they at present exist are ultimate and irreducible, the opponent of teleology had indeed in the evidence afforded by organic structure a very strong presumption to overcome. The chances against the haphazard origin at a single blow of so complex a structure as the human body, for example, are enormous, as any candid mind must confess. But with the general acceptance of the modem doctrine of evolution the situation has un- doubtedly been changed to some extent. The theory^ of evolution has beyond dispute altered very con- siderably the emphasis in the older argument from design. It is at least impossible any longer, in ac- counting for the existence of an organ like the eye, to accept the notion of a designer who stands apart from his work and creates it outright by manufacture after the analogy of a human workman. If things come into being by a process of gradual growth, then this point in the comparison, which historically was a fundamental one, clearly breaks down. On the other hand, that the weakening of some of its original points of support is bound to result in the downfall THE ARGUMENT FOR PURPOSE 95 of the whole structure is by no means self-evident. For the most part the defenders of teleology have felt themselves called upon to shift their ground rather than abandon it. More and more purpose has taken the form of an immanent fact instead of an external and arbitrary one ; the reality of growth has been admitted, but the attempt has been made ' to show that between growth and purpose there is * no necessary contradiction. The classical analogy that represents the force which the older argument from design was supposed to have is found in the comparison of an organ such, for example, as the eye to a manufactured article like a watch. The change of emphasis in the new argument will appear if we consider what sort of analogy it will be necessary under these new conditions to substitute for the analogy of the watch. If we look to any complicated series of movements which human activity involves, the movements, for example, of an artist painting a picture, these might seem to us for a time as truly random and un- purposive as the workings, looked at in any limited cross section, of the material universe. But if we were to follow the process closely, there would begin to be revealed, in spite of apparent perplexities and irrelevancies, certain lines of tendency, which would lead us to suspect that more might be present than we had at first imagined. And as the picture began to grow in defmiteness and outline we should of course conclude that here was no chance play of random 96 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD movements, but that a pervading intelligence was at work to give meaning to the whole act. The main point of the comparison, it will be noticed, is now shifted from the mere adaptation of the product to the directed activity of the process, the continued and developing series of changes moving toward an end which is not for the artist's consciousness inde- pendent of them, but which is present in them and gives them meaning. Furthermore and this is a point specially to be noticed the evidence for purpose is not to be found primarily in some particu- lar adaptation or group of adaptations, but in the process as a whole. It is the order and meaning gradually revealing itself in the whole continuous act, and not any single fact out of relation to the series of which it is a part. If one wishes to keep closer to the historical analogy, the watchmaker's activity again might serve as an example. But the point of the comparison is changed all along the line. For the older argument the watch represents a par- ticular organism or organ ; the manufacture of the watch, the way in which this is brought into existence. And it is just this method of manufacture on which the theory of evolution casts doubt. For the newer point of view the making of the watch stands for the whole process of evolution, and the watch itself for that outcome of the process the present state of things, namely in the light of which we are able to look back and see meaning in the earlier stages. Is there anything therefore in the world process as THE ARGUMENT FOR PURPOSE 97 a whole which tends to make it at all analogous to the activities of human life, and to create the belief that there is to be found in it a purpose and intelli- gence at work that it has a meaning ? Now this at least is hardly doubtful, that men have what is naturally a very strong tendency to interpret the universe in this way; and such a tendency is far from being undermined by the results of modern , science. Indeed the theory of evolution brings out | for the first time in clear relief the essentially dra- matic quality of creation. That something more than ; blind and haphazard forces are at work, bearing in themselves no relation of prevision to the results which actually are accomplished, is the first and natural presumption which the spectacle of the world's history raises as it unrolls itself in the imag- ination a presumption which it is not easy to eradicate so long as the eyes are not kept too exclu- sively on the details, and the whole massed effect is allowed to exert its influence. When we call before us the full sweep of the world's advance from the time when it was a mere whirling and fiery mist, and see how marvellously out of its seeming chaos there grows order and intricate regularity, how the wonders of plant and brute life come into being, how finally man appears, the paragon of animals, with eyes to see the beauty of the world and reason to bring its forces into subjection, and, most of all, with the power to create the ideal world of truth and honor, righteousness and love; when we see these super- 98 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD sensible ideals more and more ruling his life, till we have the promise of a society wherein the poet's dream and the prophet's forecasting shall be an actual thing, when all this, I say, comes before us, it is not easy to resign ourselves to say that all has merely happened so. A general objection may of course be brought against the whole argument. It may be said that we know in terms of our own experience the meaning of artistic or of other human activities, and so are in a position to discover the meaning in the outcome. But the case of the cosmic process is a wholly differ- ent one. Here there is no clew in our experience to the purpose involved, even supposing that a pur- pose exists; and so the issue tells us nothing about design or absence of design. But this is surely not completely true. For what is the outcome of the process? At least one not unimportant aspect of ') the outcome is man, and man's life as it reveals itself ' in history and human society things which we | know and of which we are a part. And it is this : which is the real backbone of the whole argument. Were we to leave out the reference to human life, then doubtless the impression of purposi\ T eness would be weakened. But we cannot omit such a reference, for it is in human life that the process of development has in a real sense culminated. There is nothing > inherently absurd, therefore, in the supposition that , a question about the meaning of things may in its j larger and more general aspects be susceptible of ) THE ARGUMENT FOR PURPOSE 99 an answer. Why should we not hold that this mean- ing is adumbrated in the meaning which actually is found appearing in human life and human history? That life has a meaning, and that this meaning is in part actually open to us, is no far-fetched speculation, but the veritable result of experience. It is the com- mon assumption of mankind. Here and there, no doubt, the thwarting of the ends with which he has identified himself leads the individual to question the accepted formulae, and to feel hopelessly that the riddle of existence is still a mystery. But a mood is not a philosophy, though too often it is taken to be one. And there are various things that may be said of this particular attitude. It is, to begin with, the attitude of individuals ; and if to these the reali- zation of life's meaning has been denied, at least we should not forget that despair is not the character- istic note of the human spirit. Others ha ve^ felt that with life has come the insight into something of its significance, and this positive fact should be set alongside the negative. Furthermore, it may well be doubted whether the one who protests his inability to unravel the tangle of life really means in most cases all that he may seem to say. That we i cannot get at the whole meaning, that there are per- plexities which weigh heavy on the spirit, that much is blind and confused after all our weary searching, - this without any doubt is true. And it is easy and i natural oftentimes to put lack of finality in terms of a complete ignorance. In particular, protest against IOO RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD the banalities of a too credulous and narrow inter- pretation of life may often find it convenient to pose as entire negation. But if one makes allowance for this, and for a certain intellectual affectation which is pretty apt to creep into at least the literary repre- sentations of the tendency, it is very unlikely that in many cases such protests are to be taken quite literally. He surely is most unfortunate I am inclined to think that he is as rare as he is unfor- tunate who can honestly feel that neither in human love, nor in social service, nor in art, or goodness, or religion, has he caught one least glimpse of a real and satisfying value that attests to him its foundation in the structure of the universe. And finally, even if the failure seems absolute, the very despair which accompanies it is witness to how deep-seated the demand is. It is only because we feel so profoundly that there ought to be, that there must somewhere ( be, a meaning, that the tragedy of failure is so com- plete. The point I am trying to make is, then, that it is no mere speculative tour de force which finds a mean- ing in human life, but instead the deep and perma- nent experience of the race. From life we cannot possibly eliminate for the natural sense the idea of intelligence and reason. This is the essence of our understanding of it. We therefore are justified in saying that the teleological interpretation of the process of evolution is not arbitrary. We are not bringing to bear a mere analogy from another sphere. THE ARGUMENT FOR PURPOSE IOI The meaning is inherent in the process itself. For human life is not something outside the process of evolution, as one might suppose often from the words of those who would rule it out as a source for the interpretation of reality. It is an essential part of evolution. It is in some sense, as I have said, the outcome of the whole development. And therefore to take it as throwing light upon the question of meaning a very partial light indeed, but yet real so far as it goes is not arbitrary, but only what the conception of evolution itself gives us a right to do. We are in a position to see the meaning because in us the meaning has received a partial expression. Not that we need to hold, once more, that the entire universe in its onward march has had in view noth- ing but the race of man. But the life of conscious- ness and reason which reveals itself in man, though it may have many another appearance beside what reason can be given why this should not have enough of dignity within itself to stand for the inner meaning of the developing world? And man's life itself will be a real and integral part of this meaning, though it be only a part. This will not imply that the whole significance of material things, for exam- ple, is summed up in their practical utility to man. But there is no absurdity in supposing that this is a real aspect of their meaning. It is this too, though it may be vastly more than this. We need not sup- pose that cork trees were grown for the sole and ex- press convenience of the bottlers. This is on the 102 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD face of it absurd. And yet in point of fact corks are made from the cork tree, and they fill a certain place in life. And so they cannot be wholly foreign to a reality which covers the entire field of existence. In the displacement of the theological by the scientific spirit we have passed to an entirely exaggerated dis- paragement of the importance of the human element in the universe. Science itself should have taught us that it is never safe to rule a thing out from our explanation just because to us it seems slight and trivial. If corks are made, we must suppose that even cork-making enters into the meaning of the cork tree as an objectively valid fact, when the ob- jectivity of a thing is taken, as it ought to be, to include its social relations as well. The very pos- sibility of extracting from a thing a value shows that the possibility was in it, and therefore that it is a veritable part of a universe which sums up all actual relationships. In very truth " the spacious North Exists to draw our virtue forth," if experience shows that virtue has thus the power of being called to expression, provided we do not commit ourselves to the theory that it exists for noth- ing else. There is a more abstract and general consideration which may be used to strengthen this conclusion. The scientist has been very apt to regard the world primarily in terms of its component elements. These are the only necessary presuppositions, the only THE ARGUMENT FOR PURPOSE 103 things truly real. Their changing relations to one another and the varying combinations into which they enter are incidental merely, and it is unnecessary to take them into account in summing up the inner character of reality. It may well be that there are good practical reasons for this attitude ; philosophi- cally, however, there are great difficulties in taking it as ultimate. The reality of the world is the whole and not the parts. Any other supposition would result in rendering unintelligible the fact of inter- connection or interaction. But then it follows that any result that actually comes about is essential to the nature of reality, and has a distinct ground in the structure of the world, not an arbitrary and chance connection with it. It is irrational to take any collection of atomic parts at an arbitrarily selected point of time, and hold that later develop- ments are simply chance by-products of laws which can be adequately understood in terms of the way they then and there express themselves. Even at the point of time we have selected there is another element that needs to be considered. The existing combination of elements a combination which had it been different would have brought about different results is another and vital part of the situation. But furthermore it is quite impossible to take the existing condition of the world at any point or sec- tion of time as a complete statement of reality. The world is a process and includes duration. What is coming to be is in some sense equally real, equally IO4 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD a part of existence, with what is or what was. Ac- cordingly we cannot hope to be in a position to sum up reality except as we do take account of its de- veloping self-expression. The process of evolution must needs be defined, for philosophy, not by its be- ginning, but by its completer unfolding. If we find that certain characteristics appear as development pro- ceeds, we have so much more data for our description ; and should these elements fail to appear clearly at the earlier stages, then we must take our first description as imperfect. In a true sense and the principle is one which will be more than once utilized in the sub- sequent argument reality is most adequately to be interpreted in terms, not of facts, but of ideals, if by ideals we mean, not mere arbitrary imaginings, but the hidden trend, the suggestion, not fully realized as yet, of what nevertheless in the future will stand revealed as the vital germ of things to come. To emphasize mere brute present fact, what already has been brought to the light of day, summed up and made fully actual, is to miss the whole significance of evolution. He does not show the truest or even the most practical understanding of human nature who prides himself on knowing men as they are, when that knowledge takes account of nothing more than the average everyday motives and weaknesses of man reduced to his lowest terms, and who denies all ideal possibilities that are not exemplified in the habitual conduct of the ordinary citizen in his ordi- nary mood. Rather he is wisest, in the long run at THE ARGUMENT FOR PURPOSE 105 least, who detects the rarer and more hidden capac- ities which, though sporadic now, are destined to flower and become regnant in man as he has the power to be and shall be. And the same thing is true as a general principle of interpretation. The expectation that we can best understand a process by looking back to its beginnings is only another expression of the same outgrown standpoint which led Rousseau to identify human happiness and virtue with a primitive state of nature. A philosophy which pretends to be empirical condemns itself by such a procedure. It deliberately sets up a limited and arbitrarily selected fraction of experience itself a merely hypothetical experience even, and refuses to allow any additional amount of experience to modify this. Especially does the difficulty come out when we have regard to one in particular of the results of evolution the fact of human conscious- ness and intelligence. That intelligence should have sprung from a ground itself wholly unintelli- gent is a consequence which one cannot be blamed if he hesitates a long while before accepting. If, as Mr. Balfour has pointed out, intelligence comes from a universe in which there is no tendency what- ever to produce truth rather than falsehood, it is at least an awkward admission for a theory which must base its whole belief in evolution on the testi- mony of this same intelligence in favor of whose veracity there is thus absolutely no presumption. There is then, once more, a solid ground in expe- 106 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD rience, which has speculative justification as well, for regarding the meaning which is discoverable in human life as a real light thrown upon the inner constitution of the world. It is of course always possible to stop with the value of life taken by itself as a fact of experience, and refuse to consider its connection with the profounder conditions out of which man springs. Such an attitude is, I believe, not a natural one. The will to explain would nor- mally be led, unless constraint were put upon it, to bring the two together and find a continuity between them. We do not readily isolate the central fact of man's nature from the process out of which it ap- pears to issue, and deny to it the ability to throw any light whatever on its source. Its place for reason lies within the whole world development, and not as a miraculous and inexplicable sport. However, it is to be granted that if one feels no need to extend hypothesis beyond the given fact that value can be felt by man, there is no actual compulsion to be brought to bear upon him. I only repeat, what has been said before, that on one's interpretation of the needs of life rather than on logic will depend the at- titude he will here adopt. And for one who is not satisfied to exclude some reference to things in them- selves as a source of his own sense of realized values, there is no way of barring such an extension of be- lief as is involved in the teleological conception of the whole world process. He recognizes this as an hypothesis. But it is an hypothesis which fills out THE ARGUMENT FOR PURPOSE 1 07 in a significant way his own experience, and which has behind it a sufficient weight of natural evidence to make it seem plausible, provided no counter arguments are to be brought up strong enough to overcome its force. That there are such difficulties in the way of the belief is of course to be admitted, and it is to these that I wish now briefly to turn. And first, I will consider the form of the difficulty which is most directly the outcome of the modern doctrine of evolution. For while, when the problem is stated in large terms, it may still be maintained with good show of reason that the argument for purpose in the universe is a strong one, the question may certainly be asked whether if we turn attention to the details of the process instead the result will still remain the same. Will not the investigation of the methods which evolution actually has followed after all turn the scale the other way? For if we find at each separate step a condition of affairs which strongly suggests that only such forces are in play as are out of all intended relation to the result that actually comes about, will not the evidence for the purposiveness of the process as a whole necessarily be compromised? Is there, then, to be found in the more detailed aspects of the situation anything to suggest so strongly the notion of a merely fortuitous and chance result as to overcome the force of the general considerations which have been brought forward? Of course it is just this impression that Darwin's theory of nat- I08 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD ural selection has made upon many minds. If all the facts are sufficiently accounted for as due to the selection of minute variations which are all the time taking place indefinitely in every direction, it may easily seem superfluous to call in any directing agency looking specially toward the results which as a matter of fact come about. Rather, the circumstances seem to render improbable any such directing influence. For if the variations are really indeterminate, the reason for looking for a determining cause seems to be removed. It is not easy in the present state of uncertainty among scientists as to the actual method or methods of evolution to discuss the matter in a satisfactory way, but a few general considerations may not be misleading. This accordingly is the question : Does natural selection compel us to accept as probable the fortuitous character of the results of evolution? Now in the first place, we should not lose sight of the fact that whatever his attitude toward a large and inclusive end, the evolutionist does necessarily use the concept of end in his explanation. The whole doctrine of natural selection is based upon the existence of organic ends. The very notion of an organism involves the relation of means to end, and not simply of antecedents to a succeeding result. The organ is for the sake of the unitary life of the organism. I shall not dwell upon this, however, for the reason that its larger bearings are not altogether easy to settle. Nevertheless it is worthy of con- THE ARGUMENT FOR PURPOSE 109 sideration by the thick-and-thin repudiator of ends. The second point has already been pretty directly suggested in the discussion of a few pages back. The question of beginnings is one which needs to be handled with a good deal of caution in arguing about evolution. There is, without doubt, danger in try- ing to pick out a few points where we can appeal to a miracle of intervention while allowing that else- where the process has been continuous and natural. On the other hand, there is also danger in letting our conviction that the process must have been continuous, and therefore that nothing must appear save what can be discovered in that which goes before, lead to a minimizing of real difficulties. Now while in general, admitting the existence of a given organ, there seems no specially difficult problem involved in its indefinite variation in size and efficiency, the case is not wholly the same when we consider the origin of the organ itself. We are so used to the fact that certain variations have taken place, we are so familiar with the organs and func- tions which actually have appeared, that their ap- pearance causes us no surprise. But, after all, the thing is not so simple or obvious. There is at least some occasion for reflection in the fact that matter has had in it the capacity for varying in these particu- lar, and on the whole rather striking ways. That such facts have had the power of issuing from the universal womb of things as bone and skin, blood OF THE UNIVERS! OF IIO RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD and muscular tissue, nerve cells with their remarkable forms of specialized activity, and all the variations of living matter each with its own peculiar properties, is not the less surprising because of their familiarity. One gets at times the same impression as in the fairy tales, when the hero has but to feel the need and ex- press the wish, and whatever he wants is at his elbow. No doubt it will be an advantage to the organism to have its surface tickled into sensitiveness by the sun's rays so that sight is the result. But surely we might stop to wonder a little when straightway we find the thing is done. Of course, if one can assume at the start a matter which is potentially anything and everything, he will have no trouble in supposing that, given time enough, anything may come out of it. But this is not a scientific assumption. And when we add the very considerable difficulty of explain- ing scientifically, in utility terms, the survival of such slight beginnings as the theory of chance variations naturally demands, the meaning of the word "for- tuitous" no longer seems so clear or its force so self-evident. The third suggestion I would bring up may start with a question of fact suggested by the last para- graph. Is it so that variations are apparently for- tuitous and without recognizable direction? It is too early perhaps to speak with certainty, but there would appear to be a tendency among naturalists away from such a conclusion. The further inves- tigation is carried, the more reason there seems for THE ARGUMENT FOR PURPOSE III believing that variations have taken place along what to some extent are determinate and definite lines, and therefore that we are compelled to seek for causes of such determinate variations lying back of the action of natural selection. Unfortunately there seems to be at present nothing like an agree- ment about the nature of these supplementary fac- tors in evolution. But to whatever conclusion we come, one thing would apparently in any case have to be true. In order to get the process going at all, it will be necessary to call in a number of coop- erating laws and tendencies. Even the doctrine of natural selection implies more than mere chance variations. These would mean nothing were it not for the fact that animals reproduce, that certain definite laws govern heredity, that there is a vast number of offspring brought into the world, that conditions of life make necessary a struggle for food, and other things too numerous to mention. Indeed, indirectly there is no aspect of the universe which is not somehow involved. The same thing is even more evident if we recognize supplementary factors in evolution. So if, for example, we find that the direct action of the environment is concerned in producing variations, either immediately, or in such a roundabout way as is involved in the doctrine of organic selection. It seems a simple and natural thing to appeal to the fact that a change of food affects the body, or that a muscle grows by exercise. Never- theless, we should not forget that we are calling these 112 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD things to our assistance. Were it not for such useful cooperative agencies being at hand when needed, we should not be able to get our development started. And the point I wish to make is this: while it may seem natural to hold to the fortuitous character of the result so long as we are looking only at one separate aspect or factor of the problem, there is distinctly less reason to do so if we keep the whole set of cooperating conditions in view. And yet for an adequate account we are bound to do this. The fact is not variation, indefinite or otherwise, but variation occurring in a world capable of utilizing it for a constant growth. The concurrent conditions and their cooperation are essential, and the coinci- dence that they are there is not to be forgotten in estimating the likelihood that chance should have brought about the result. Of course, if we are per- mitted to assume all of these as given, then possibly chance may be allowed to do the little work that is left. But to take them for granted is precisely what, if we are trying to get at a comprehensive and final statement of the world, we are not allowed to do. It remains true that no considerations such as these which I have just mentioned will do away with a certain appearance of indirectness and ten- tativeness in the course by which things have devel- oped to their present state. Abstractly, however, the presence of a considerable element of trial and ex- periment would not be incompatible with purpose or meaning. It might indeed modify somewhat THE ARGUMENT FOR PURPOSE 113 our notion of the power and wisdom that lay behind the purpose. But it would not necessarily lead us to deny the purpose itself. If we find this element of indirectness actually characterizing the process, the only thing for us to do is to accept it, and find such reasons for it as we may. As a matter of fact a reason is close at hand. It has been implied that for our natural thought the meaning of evolution lies in the sphere of consciousness, the life of intelli- gent beings. But the process which is best fitted for developing a conscious and intelligent being, as we know intelligence, is a process of struggle, of trial, of tentative experiment. Now of course the original production of physical variations lies, in large part at least, outside the control of consciousness. But, on the other hand, it may be held with some show of rea- son that the relative indefiniteness in the direction of congenital variations has a direct relation to the bringing out of the capacities implicit in the conscious life. If the advance in evolution lay in the hands of a force which simply pushed the organism ahead inevitably from step to step without live alternatives, consciousness as we know it apparently would never have had any existence. Development would have been, as habit now is, automatic, with conscious- ness either absent or quiescent. It is the presence of such conditions as the struggle for existence implies that has been the necessary incentive to mental, and later on to spiritual growth. Struggle and competi- tion are required to call the dormant powers into 114 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD exercise. And this means that the quality which is preserved gets its advantage by a process which involves the active putting forth of something like effort and blind will, and therefore that it does not occupy the field alone, but appears at first as only one among a number of competing possibilities. These less favorable variations pass away, seemingly without result. But they may have in reality a very important result, if they have been the occasion for calling forth qualities in the realm of the con- scious life which are to constitute ultimately the significance of the whole evolutionary process. If then conscious life and its meaning do represent the goal of evolution, it is not surprising to find that development has not moved mechanically and in- evitably, driven by forces that can suffer no deviation from a straight line. Something in the nature of natural selection is what we might expect. Again the analogy in human ends is instructive. A pro- cess of mere manufacture does not indeed allow of deviations without showing a lack either of wisdom or of power. But when the idea of growth rules rather than of manufacture, the case is different. Take the instance, for example, of the teacher who deals with human material. The end is just as real, of course, as in the analogy of the watchmaker. But because it is a higher end, it cannot be reached in so direct a way. There is no true education unless there is a chance offered to make mistakes. The teacher might indeed do all the work for the pupils. THE ARGUMENT FOR PURPOSE 115 Then everything would move forward unhesitatingly and without the need of apparently futile side issues that seem to end only in failure. But the seeming advantage would, of course, be a real disadvantage. Not only does the apparent randomness of the pro- cess mean no lack of wisdom ; no other method would be compatible with the wisdom that is real and far- seeing. I have considered so far the particular objections against teleology which are derived from Darwin's theory of natural selection, as these are the ones that have been most pressed in recent times. And I have tried, of course, not to settle the scientific prob- lem of the method of evolution, but simply to suggest that the natural appearance of fortuitousness which at first the theory makes becomes more doubtful when we examine the entire situation, and therefore that this ought not to be given too much weight as against the positive reasons for believing that the develop- ing process of the world reveals a meaning and a purpose. There is, however, another side from which the idea of purpose has been attacked, and this is historically a much older, though it is still a widely prevalent, form of the difficulty. No one has ever put this with more rigor of logic and force of con- viction than Spinoza. The objection has two main roots. The more fundamental of these is the de- mand on the part of science, and the quite legitimate demand, that it be not interfered with in its attempts at explanation by scientifically irrelevant and ar- Il6 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD bitrary motives. Science is trying to reduce the sequences among facts to terms of natural law, and it cannot view calmly the possible intrusion at any moment into its orderly and well-articulated world of a miraculous interruption and source of confu- sion, incapable of being reduced to the formulae which its ideal demands should be all-embracing. This repugnance is, to repeat, justified, and if the conse- quences which it deprecates were really bound up with the teleological conception, it would constitute an objection whose force it would be very hard indeed to break. That it at all necessarily applies, however, to the modem form of the belief, is very far from being evident ; to this point I shall return presently. But now, while the real force of the hostility to purpose goes back thus to an objection which is hypothetical merely, if purpose contradicts natural law, it cannot be maintained, the form which the opposition is apt to take on the surface has been another and a much less convincing one. Roughly the objection is founded upon the charge, in particu- lar, that purpose is a purely human category, the out- come of a bias which human needs and desires lend to our thought, and that consequently it has no right to be regarded as applying to the real, the extra- human world. But the force of this claim has already been met by the position taken in a preceding chapter. For the defect, if defect it be, that comes from having a basis in a human need, is by no means confined to THE ARGUMENT FOR PURPOSE II 7 the concept of teleology. It is equally true of the more mechanical concepts that are included under the head of natural law. The term "explanation'' is in itself essentially teleological in meaning, and so not only are we unable to dispense with teleology in the world, but it must take its place as the very most fundamental category. Mechanism is itself an example of teleology. In other words, we always have some end in view when we set out to explain a thing. Why otherwise should we go to the trouble of explaining? We must somehow be dissatisfied; and there is no such thing as satisfaction or dissatis- faction except as a need or an end is or is not being met. It is the demands of our nature, our intellec- tual demands at the very least, which underlie and give effect to every advance in knowledge. We can- not possibly get away from ourselves and our con- stitution as human beings. There is a necessary anthropomorphism in every least detail of the think- ing experience. Man, as Emerson says, can paint or make or think nothing but man. In scientific materialism or agnosticism, quite as truly as in a naive theology, we are imposing our own human needs upon nature, rather than merely finding what is there, independent of any reference to ourselves and this nature of ours. It may indeed be that our private and individual needs ought to be eliminated. But to get away from such methods of interpretation as are essentially and universally human is a sheer impossibility. Il8 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD This accordingly, once more, is the real state of the case: That order which later we come to know as natural law is in no sense a given and undeniable fact. We never should have recognized law had not the need of law been insistently present in our lives. And even now, if it were not for our robust faith that law must everywhere rule the world, a faith which goes far beyond empirical demon- stration and has its root in the necessities of practical self-preservation, the whole laborious edifice of science would crumble to pieces. Accordingly the appeal to a prejudice against merely human modes of interpretation furnishes in itself no valid reason why the teleological hypothesis should be rejected, at the same time that the scientific is regarded as true. We are thrown back therefore upon the other and more fundamental objection : purpose is to be denied, not because it is a human way of thinking, but because it contradicts the more firmly estab- lished and better-verified hypothesis of mechanism and natural law. It is not difficult to see in a general way that when the old idea of purpose has been transformed, this con- tradiction no longer exists as a necessity of thought. When purpose is conceived as breaking in upon the course of natural events from the outside to give it a new and incalculable twist, the demands of science are clearly sacrificed. But if intelligence directs the process from start to finish, and is identified with the development as a whole, then the case stands quite THE ARGUMENT FOR PURPOSE 119 otherwise. Teleology and mechanism are no longer competing theories, but rather different points of view, both equally valid, though one is more ultimate than the other. They stand for the difference between the meaning of a process, and the steps by which this meaning is worked out. And unless it is impossible that a purpose should be accomplished in an orderly and systematic way, a way which shows definite uniformities and can be summed up and stated as a law, any in- herent opposition between the two concepts does not exist. As an abstract solution of the difficulty this seems fairly evident. But there are certain features of the situation which need clearing up before we can con- sider that we have a finished theory. And in the first place, what more precisely are we to understand is the relation in which intelligence stands to the pro- cess of growth that constitutes the universe ? If we use the term " God," what is the connection between God and the changing world ? Does he exist beyond its limits and have only an external relationship to it? Or is intelligence somehow immanent in the universe of matter itself? If the last alternative is true, how are we to understand this "somehow"? For the inherence of intelligence in a world of matter needs some further explanation. And if we take the other side, then the creation outright of a new world of reality, or the handling of a foreign matter that always has existed, equally calls for interpreta- 120 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD tion. Accordingly the religious hypothesis will need to receive a more exact formulation in connection with an answer to this question : What is the relation between God and the world of material things ? THE RELATION OF GOD AND NATURE THE traditional argument for theism starts from an assumed separation between God and the world. The world of matter exists, and exists essentially as we know it. But beyond this there lies also a super- sensible, an immaterial being. We have no imme- diate knowledge of this being. We only infer his existence from certain facts which admittedly are known. We know directly the world of matter. This exists palpably and beyond question. But various considerations make it impossible to stop with this as the only reality. First, there is the al- leged impossibility that any true and ultimate cause can be found in the physical world. The search for a first cause leads us beyond matter to the creator, absolute and infinite, on whom material facts must depend. And then there is the further point which already has come before us in the form of the argu- ment from design: certain aspects of the material world show too plainly their relation to an intelligent purpose to be reduced to mere unmeaning law and mechanism. Accordingly there must exist behind the world of matter an intelligent creator and de- signer, vastly powerful if not omnipotent, to whose wisdom and power natural events are due at 121 122 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD least those events which lie beyond the reach of mechanism to explain. I have already indicated that there is an interpre- tation of this last argument at any rate which seems to me still to have a great deal of force. Never- theless I think it must be admitted that in its tra- ditional form the whole theistic position starts out with presuppositions which put it at a certain real disadvantage, especially in so far as it confines itself to the physical side of the universe. Here are cer- tain facts to be accounted for. Now there is, it may be said, one basis of explanation which is admitted by all to be real so far as it goes. The world of mat- ter exists. The laws of its workings are confessedly equal to at least a part of the task in question. Let us grant that there are flaws in the explanation. Questions arise to which the answer that science can at present give are not wholly satisfying. And yet when we think how great is that leap into the un- known which the argument for God requires, may we not hesitate before leaving apparently solid ground for what at best has only a speculative justification ? Can we really be sure of the necessity for taking so great a step when the facts with which we are dealing are on so vast a scale ? Is it so certain after all that matter, whose marvellous properties we are only be- ginning to realize, may not be competent to perform the task for which we have been demanding a God ? God is an hypothesis, matter an actuality. God we can at best only infer, matter we can directly know. THE RELATION OF GOD AND NATURE 123 We have no right, then, to call in a new and un- known cause unless the explanation that already lies within our reach breaks down decisively. And then, too, there are the positive difficulties which surround any attempt to understand the relation of two realities so totally different in kind as by definition God and matter are, whether it be in terms of crea- tion, or of interaction. But now there is another path which lies open to the theist, and which, were it to prove feasible, would give him a certain advantage of position. Suppose we were to deny the postulate which underlies the objection that has just been made the self-evident reality of matter and material things. We may agree that experience reveals a reality to us the reality which naive thought knows as the external world. But in the place of attempting to prove God's exist- ence as a separate being necessary to create and order this given material world, we might adopt a different course. Instead of passing from a sensible reality to another and supersensible one, we might go to work rather to criticise the notion of this very reality which we already suppose ourselves to have. The assumption, so the argument would run, that in what is called matter we have a perfectly clear and unambiguous conception is capable of being doubted. On the contrary, the apparently self- evident notion of matter begins to crumble under scrutiny. Instead of our having an undoubted reality to start upon, while the reality of God is de- 124 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD rivative and inferential, we find that the idea of matter is itself uncertain and disputable. A reality there doubtless is. But when we call this reality material, we are simply resting satisfied with our first naive impressions. These impressions, however, taken as ultimate truth will not stand criticism. The more we examine them, the less capable do we find the material categories of representing a final state- ment of the real world. And in the end we might discover that the only way hi which we can really think this world, without involving ourselves in ob- scurity and self-contradiction, is to interpret it in terms of that other sort of reality which we know as consciousness. The world of matter transforms itself in our hands in the process of our attempt to make it thinkable. The question is no longer whether a given reality requires a separate and hy- pothetical reality to explain it. It is rather the question about the true understanding of the one reality which alone we know, but which refuses to admit of a final interpretation in the terms we first apply to it. God is still an hypothesis, to be sure. But he is not an hypothesis called in to explain that for which we already have a partially sufficient cause in matter. Matter itself and the laws of matter are self -contradictory, until we have reconstructed them in terms of conscious life. There would be nothing arbitrary in this. It would be a perfectly justifiable use of hypothesis. We have something which we are trying to render consistent for thought, and in- THE RELATION OF GOD AND NATURE 125 telligible. This is the world which experience re- veals to us a world which materialist and theist alike believe exists. If the attempt to think this as material breaks down, we have a perfect right to call in some other hypothesis. This is just what science itself is constantly doing. Science never leaves the world as naive experience finds it. It reconstructs and transfigures until the reality is quite unrecog- nizable to the lay mind. The only caution which it is necessary to observe is this, that the logical re- quirements of a good hypothesis should not be dis- regarded. There are thus two steps in the argument that has just been sketched. It is necessary to show, in the first place, that the concept of matter as a self -existent reality is not ultimately intelligible, and so that the ordinary conception of the external world must in some way be transformed. And in the second place, it must be shown that the religious hypothesis the interpretation of the world, that is, as a conscious ex- perience or personality is, all things considered, the most reasonable one, and meets best the conditions of the problem. Upon the first step it is not necessary to dwell very long. The novice in philosophy no doubt finds it very difficult at the start to get the point of view from which the seemingly solid fabric of the outer world as we know it through the senses loses its sub- stantial existence. But to one who has any knowl- edge of the results of philosophical thought, the Berke- leyan denial of the reality of matter as something 126 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD which exists, as we know it, independent of any con- sciousness whatever, has long been a commonplace. Such a result is not confined to the mere metaphy- sician. It is accepted, not to say insisted upon, by nearly every scientist of recent times who has any pretensions to be called a philosopher. I shall there- fore reproduce the argument here only very briefly. When with the eyes of sober and unreflective com- mon sense we look out on the world about us, it never strikes us that there is any lurking mystery which the senses may not penetrate. There stands the universe of things, green and white and red, round and square, rough and smooth, the living type of all that is real and solid. We close our eyes and look again, and there has been no change. We do not ask ourselves why it should be standing thus ; why should it not ? Long before the human race was thought of all these things existed. If every creature that draws breath suddenly were blotted out, the brooks still would murmur as before, the sunlight glisten, the trees put forth green leaves. It will not be necessary to trace the process by which our naive confidence that things exist just as we sense them gradually becomes modified, until at last in the common scientific atomism we have the great mass of sense qualities rejected outright as merely subjective, and only the merest remnant, notably extension and impenetrability, still retained as actually and objectively existing. The point which I shall consider here is more general in its THE RELATION OF GOD AND NATURE 127 application. It depends upon the self-evident fact that all our knowledge of things is primarily our knowledge, and is reducible ultimately to the data of our sense experience. We say that out in space there are objects existing, and that we see them and know them. But this seeing, this knowing, is a mental act, and by no possibility can there be any perception or knowledge which is not a mental act. Now matter by definition is something that exists in a definite place outside us and distinct from our private experiencing. It cannot therefore be taken up from its solid base and transported into the mind. We believe that it exists out there where we seem to see it. But all the data for this belief are nevertheless mental. The things exist perhaps. But for us they exist not in themselves, but only as they are reproduced or somehow issue in mental terms. There is literally no quality which we attrib- ute to matter color, form, hardness, elasticity which is not based directly upon sensational experi- ences, and which cannot, when looked at from an- other standpoint, be put in terms of these. If, that is to say, matter is regarded as something distinct from consciousness, we yet have to admit that it is only through the medium of consciousness that we can describe it. Every quality which we ascribe to matter is, it would seem, after all only the same thing that we otherwise know as a sensation. So that when we set aside this content nothing what- ever is left. Consciousness is for us the ultimate. 128 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD The force of this position is generally admitted in the case of the secondary qualities of matter - color, sound, heat, smell, and the like. These, it is agreed, are really subjective affections of our own. But it is difficult to see how we can stop with them ; the same arguments seem to apply equally well to the so-called primary qualities, which are popu- larly supposed to belong to matter in itself. These also certainly are made known to us through sense perception. Why then should we suppose that they have any existence except as they are sensibly per- ceived, any more than the color or fragrance of the rose exists when no one is there to enjoy it ? Indeed, what possible conception can we form of a sense qual- ity which has an existence when it is not perceived ? If we hold to the fact that all our supposed knowledge of the qualities of matter comes to us through sen- sation, can we still retain the belief that these sense qualities give us information about a material some- thing beyond themselves, unless we admit the appar- ent contradiction that a sensation may resemble that of which an essential determination is that it differs altogether from a sensation? "What, when we consider it candidly," to quote Mr. Balfour, "can we possibly make of a macrocosm furnished with material objects whose qualities exactly resemble impressions and ideas, with the embarrassing ex- ception that they are neither transient nor mental?" For matter is denned as that which is absolutely out of all relation to consciousness, which is entirely THE RELATION OF GOD AND NATURE I2Q unconscious. Now not one of the qualities of a sen- sation can be separated from the fact of its being thus a sensation, a form of consciousness. Conscious- ness is implicated in every possible aspect of a con- scious fact; it is conscious through and through. And if this fundamental characteristic is denied, everything whatsoever goes along with it. There is no basis at all left on which to found a correspondence or representation of any kind. Matter exists, then, only in terms of conscious experience. The con- scious threads woven into it are essential to its being. And were we to attempt to withdraw them, the whole world would vanish like a bubble. The Berkeleyan form of the idealistic argument is the one which has been most generally familiar. There is, however, another way in which essentially the same thing may be put, and which perhaps comes closer to the actual scientific procedure. For in spite of its historical connection with sensationalism, modern science is in reality at almost the opposite pole from a reduction of the world to sensations. It might rather be claimed that science has no ap- parent place left for sensations at all. The world of science is an ideal world. Its atoms, its ether, are things that no man's eye has seen or can see. They are demands of logic, not complexes of sensations. Even more obviously are the laws of science not things of sense. Laws, say of mechanics or of chemistry, with their complex mathematical formulae, are in the highest possible degree abstract and ideal. 130 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD Now these statements, if they are examined, really involve the whole point at issue. The scientist's conception of the world is confessed by him to be, not in terms of matter, but in terms of thought a conscious fact. Law is the goal of science ; and law is the product of thought, of reason. The whole procedure of science is an attempt to meet the de- mands of thought and the laws of thinking. A scientific hypothesis is primarily a device to satisfy certain requirements ease, comprehensiveness, and the like in the mental grasping and manipulation of the data of experience, for the sake of better prac- tical control. Typically it bases itself on mathe- matics, and mathematics is fundamentally an intel- lectual discipline. The consistent materialist who makes mathematics the basis of his science is thus compelled to hold that the very thing which is most characteristic of the scientific attitude is unreal, lacking in objective validity, the work merely of the mind. Philosophical scientists are often nowa- days ready to admit this, and to declare frankly that scientific laws are no account of reality, but arbi- trary devices for introducing order into the confusion of our sense experience, with no validity beyond this purely human and practical one. Whatever the satisfactoriness of this position as a whole, the one point with which we are here concerned is plain. The concepts of science are not facts found ready- made in nature. They are superimposed upon it. And the grounds of their acceptance are the demands THE RELATION OF GOD AND NATURE 131 of thinking. They are thoughts, not unconscious matter. And if therefore they are regarded as belong- ing to the real world, this world can no longer be put ultimately in material terms. Such then is the result to which philosophy and science alike have very generally come. The stuff of the material world, and that which at least furnishes the starting-point of science, is revealed to us only in sense perception, and therefore is reducible in its statement ultimately to facts only of a sensational order. The peculiar and more fundamental real- ity of the scientist the reality of law is again a product only statable in terms of the intellectual con- sciousness ; it is clearly and confessedly the product of thought. On this basis then we are ready for the second step in the theistic argument. V And the main point is a simple one. Here is a reality which we have agreed exists. We might of course go back on this assumption, and hold that the world is entirely identical with the conscious experience in which I suppose myself to know it. I have already given my reasons for rejecting this position, and I shall continue therefore to take for granted that the reality to which we have reference in what we term the outer world exists beyond my private self, and beyond any human, psychological, experience. But it turns out that this reality is incapable of being thought ultimately in terms of matter, if we define matter as something entirely un- like mind and consciousness. So far as it makes any 132 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD claim to be known it is known in conscious terms terms of thought and sensation, or of conscious ex- perience. But why not suppose, then, that the terms in which reality is known really represent in some true sense the nature of that which is known ? There is one, and apparently only one, condition on which this would be conceivable. Why not suppose that knowledge is possible for us just because we are akin to the world we know, and that the world can get itself reproduced hi our consciousness because this reproduction is in its essential being similar to that for which it stands ? We are able to reproduce in our knowledge with some degree of adequateness the thoughts and feelings of our fellows for this reason, that both the knowledge and the thing it knows have as conscious facts a common nature. Why may not the same be true of our knowledge of the outer world ? If the world is intelligible and science assumes this must we not hold that it is itself the expres- sion of intelligence? "That which requires reason and thought to understand must itself be thought and reason." The fact that our knowledge is in the form of consciousness makes it impossible to suppose it truly represents outer reality so long as we hold to the prejudice that this reality must of necessity be an unconscious and unintelligent something. But in- stead of saying : Knowledge is a fact of consciousness, and therefore cannot truly stand for anything be- yond our conscious experience ; why not rather say : Knowledge is valid of reality, and therefore reality THE RELATION OF GOD AND NATURE 133 must itself be such that knowledge can reproduce it ? The qualities of things have been reduced to sen- sational qualities, and sensations cannot exist ob- jectively in a world of unthinking matter. But sensations can be supposed to exist independently in another experience objective to our own. Once more, then, why may we not say that the great reality which we know as the material universe, the reality on which our whole being depends, from which flow the issues of life and death, is like in essence to our- selves who stand in this intimate relation to it, is a reality of conscious spirit, in religious language is God? How else again can we understand the re- lationship of knowledge the relationship between the perception and the object which we commonly think that it represents unless the object also forms part of some similar conscious experience? Thus God would not be unknown. He does not lie in a realm beyond that with which our experience brings us in contact. This very world which we suppose we know we cannot really understand, until we have transformed it so that it becomes no longer dead matter, but living spirit. There is a somewhat different way in which the argument might be put. We should not forget, though it often is forgotten, that what we call the external world is not the whole of reality. Any final explanation, therefore, must not be prejudicial to the outlying facts, but must find somewhere a place for them. Now the reality which we know outside 134 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD what we call the material universe is the reality of conscious beings. In our own immediate conscious lives we come into contact with a portion of the uni- verse which is as certain to us as anything can possi- bly be. The situation is accordingly this : We have a part of the universe that is known, and we are trying to get a satisfactory conception of that other portion which lies beyond. Other things being equal, it is easier to regard the universe as all of a piece, than to think of it as split into two divisions, one essentially different in nature from the other. If therefore the nature of one section is known to us, there is nothing arbitrary in the supposition that this will furnish us the clew for understanding the whole. Or it can be put in still another way. If consciousness exists now, it may be argued that it must somehow always have existed. It is difficult to think of an absolutely new kind of reality as suddenly appearing. Even prior to the existence of organic life there must have been some positive grounds for the possibility of consciousness. And since the derivation of con- sciousness from that which is wholly unconscious is not easy to distinguish from the appearance of a new kind of reality, again the natural hypothesis is to interpret in conscious terms existence as it was originally, in order to account for these facts of exist- ence which we know have come to be. The somewhat startling nature of this result - for it is likely to appear startling to the novice in philosophy should not obscure the essentially sim- THE RELATION OF GOD AND NATURE 135 pie character of the process by which it is reached. If we are to make any effort at all to understand the true nature of the external world, then it may be maintained that from the standpoint of logic nothing else meets as well the requirements of a general and preliminary hypothesis. Our first naive explana- tion of the world has proved insufficient, and we have therefore on our hands a problem to be met. We know that conscious beings really exist, and we know, at least in a measure, what consciousness is. There is no other reality that we know so well. There is no other reality that we know at all, indeed, if the reality of matter fails us. It affords there- fore really the only type of hypothesis positive in its nature that is available. It would, once more, be quite possible at this stage to drop proceedings al- together. One might well be deterred by the mag- nitude of the problem, and be content to lay it aside and turn to other more immediately practical mat- ters ; and if he fails to find within himself the insist- ent motive for demanding a solution, this is doubtless what he will do. But to give things up is, of course, to abandon the realm of philosophy altogether, and to leave one's results the expression of simple preju- dice or temperament. But now if, instead of saying that he is unable to form any opinion at all about the real nature of the world, one should declare that nature in all likelihood to be quite definitely of an unknown sort, such an one is still treading the paths of speculation. He is making a choice between two 136 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD alternatives, and may therefore fairly be called upon to give reasons for his choice. And my only point is that the hypothesis of the theist is logically superior, taken simply by itself. To pass by the claims of consciousness as a means of interpretation, so long as the insufficiency of consciousness has not been shown, is from the logical standpoint unjustified. It is an appeal from the known to the unknown as a source of explanation the very thing which science depre- cates ; or else it is, once more, simply a faint-hearted abandonment of the problem. Of course it is en- tirely possible that the hypothesis may not work out well, and if it cannot be justified this abstract advantage will not be enough to save it. I am simply concerned to maintain that there is no initial unlike- lihood in the way of its acceptance as a sober and perfectly natural hypothesis, but that on the contrary it has the first claim upon our attention. We have the logical right to demand, before the hypothesis is rejected in favor of the unknown, a careful and unprejudiced hearing for it, and a recognition that, instead of its being arbitrary and far-fetched, there is a general presumption in its favor. I shall have accordingly, in what follows, to give the hypothesis greater precision of statement, and to indicate the answer which it enables us to make to the more insistent problems which grow out of the attempt at a final account of the world. Mean- while it may be granted that I have already antici- pated matters somewhat, and have, in the particular THE RELATION OF GOD AND NATURE 137 turn which has been given to the conception, out- stripped the necessary implications of the argument. That the world of nature represents, however in- adequately and tentatively, the content of a larger life and conscious experience analogous to our own, is the form of the theory which I have suggested. Strictly, it may be said, all that at best the argument would justify us in asserting is that in some entirely indeterminate way outer reality may be interpreted in terms of consciousness. And there are several pos- sible constructions along the lines of such an indefi- nite hypothesis, other than the particular one which is here preferred. This undoubtedly is the case, and I do not mean to ignore it. It will, however, permit of a clearer and more straightforward ex- position if I keep to the special point of view which I am attempting to establish, and try primarily to show in a positive way that this is a satisfactory ex- planation of the facts of experience, instead of direct- ing too much attention to the criticism of competing theories. Incidentally I shall, of course, have occa- sion to consider such points in connection with these other hypotheses as seem to me most important. And meanwhile there is the general and preliminary justification to which I have already adverted : it is not merely a private preference, but it also is the one which is dictated most obviously by the historical religious experience. It is not an interpretation manufactured for purely theoretical purposes; it connects itself with motives which are suggested by 138 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD life before they are used by philosophy. Once again, this does not dispense with the need of rational jus- tification. But so far as i f KOCS it may be claimed that it gives a certain initial advantage. There is involved, too, another advantage for the form of the hypothesis which is here selected that also may be referred to once more before proceed- ing. It enables us to maintain the essential ade- quacy of our knowledge to the real facts. That men have an instinctive prejudice in favor of believing that their supposed knowledge of the natural history of the world represents in some true sense what really is there and what really has happened, can, of course, not well be denied. And the prejudice is a continuous one ; we fall back upon it automatically the moment we forget our speculations and trust to our natural bias. And at least for the religious mind, which would be at a loss could it discover no trace whatever of a true revelation of God in nature, the demand for some measure of resemblance between the truth for us and the truth for God must seem a well-grounded one. Now on the supposition that the world exists as content within a larger experience, there is no need to deny to our knowledge such re- semblance to the reality on which it stands in appar- ent dependence as experience may seem to warrant. Of course this does not mean that when we know the physical world we know God in anything like the completeness of his nature, any more than in know- ing the sensations my neighbor is experiencing I THE RELATION OF GOD AND NATURE 139 should know the man himself. Back of these there lies his emotional life, his whole system of ideals and ends, the unity of his concrete nature. But still, in knowing these lesser facts my knowledge is good so far as it goes. So it is possible to hold that nature represents something which is real for God's ex- perience, although it is not the whole truth. Things are parts of this experience somewhat as the per- ception of things enters into our own conscious life to form its objective framework and material. They constitute elements in it, as in the poet's dream the various images form the stuff of his inspired vision. The material for interpreting the meaning of this life we shall have to get in the main, if at all, in the experience we call ethical and social, in history rather than the physical sciences. But the validity of such an interpretation would be greatly compromised were we to cut it loose wholly from its basis in the natural world. For our knowledge the world is interknit in bonds of too great intimacy to suffer easily the outright rejection of any section of it; to give up the truth of a part will inevitably tend to weaken and confuse our hold upon the rest. Once more it is to be kept in mind that we are not attempting to demonstrate the existence of God. The whole argument rests upon two postulates, or preju- dices if one chooses so to call them ; and while these can be made to seem reasonable in the light of a developed experience, they can in the nature of the case be submitted to no decisive test. The first is, 140 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD that we are encircled by a reality larger than ourselves, and larger than all merely human life. The second is our inveterate bias toward supposing that growing knowledge is actually in some degree advancing toward truth, that there is a harmony between our human knowing and reality. Whatever the broadest experience brings home to us as valid, this we find ourselves constrained also to import into the content of that universe which is the basis of all validity. What as philosophers we then go on to do is to clarify our conceptions to the end that we may get rid of contradictions, while at the same time we retain all the outcome of experience that is of essential worth. And if a certain conception enables us to retain alike the truth of nature and the truth of our social and spiritual experience, it has the strongest warrant that any conception can possess. In the hypothesis, therefore, that in the material ^ universe we have a reality which takes the form when ( reinterpreted as in some shape or other it needs I must be reinterpreted of a conscious experience akin to our own, and that law represents simply those uniformities of sequence that are to be detected within this conscious and intelligible whole, in itself a reality of meaning and purpose, there is outlined the foundation of a theoretical construction of the world which will serve to satisfy the religious de- mands and the facts of experience which give these J demands their plausibility, while at the same time it gets rid of the peculiar difficulties that surround the THE RELATION OF GOD AND NATURE 141 relationship of the God of religion and the object of science when these are supposed to represent two distinct existences. Meanwhile, before passing to the further problems which present themselves to such a theory, I wish to point out briefly that there is one question in particular which has in the past caused a good deal of trouble to philosophers, to which the conception that has just been outlined offers directly a possible solution. More especially since the days of Hume certain difficulties about the notion of causality have played a prominent rdle in nearly every philosophy. The particular difficulty which Hume himself brought to the front was in con- nection with the idea of the causal bond. Naturally, almost inevitably indeed, when we think of two things in the relation of cause and effect, we tend to think that there is an actual influence of one upon the other, that the first somehow brings the second about, makes it to be. Hume, on the other hand, challenges us to point out any distinct meaning that can be assigned to this notion of power, force, causal in- fluence of a bond that connects two events. This challenge it has been found unexpectedly difficult for the philosopher to meet. And in the absence of any assignable meaning to the term Hume is con- strained to reject outright the whole conception as groundless, and to reduce causality to a mere sub- jective expectation that things will happen as they have been wont to happen in the past an expec- tation based on habit, and of course incapable of 142 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD being philosophically grounded. Cause represents simply a sequence of events which has taken place so often that we tend to look for it again. In more recent times Hume's position has received an apparent confirmation from the dominant ten- dencies in science. For modern science has prac- tically followed Hume in giving up the primitive idea of force as a valuable scientific conception. It has indeed added something to Hume's statement, and by the doctrine of the equivalence of energy it has discovered a way of distinguishing between ap- parent and real causal sequences, the lack of which constituted a difficulty for Hume. But this does not mean any deviation from Hume's main point. The equivalence of energy involved in two successive stages of a process is an entirely empirical fact, and represents no real connection thrown over from one stage to another. It is not a bond or an efficient productive power, and it does not pretend to furnish any account of why the succession takes place. But now this attitude on the part of science does not settle the question until we have made it clear that the scientific interest covers all the aspects of the problem. Of course the right of science to reject a particular concept as useless for its own special purposes is undoubted. And it is not difficult to see why in this case it has no interest in retaining in the causal concept the notion of force or efficiency. Science aims to explain the world by relating an event in certain definite ways with other events. At THE RELATION OF GOD AND NATURE 143 best the idea of force simply supplies us in a gen- eral way with a bond between things ; it does not tell us at all what particular effects go with particular causes. And it is just this which it is the business of science to discover. If we take such an event as the fall of a stone to the earth, the popular ex- planation probably would be that it is due to attrac- tion between the earth and the stone. But this, even if it represents a truth, merely states why anything takes place at all. In reality we have an event of a definite kind, and it is the exact nature of the event in which we are practically interested. The state- ment of the existence of a causal bond, be it ever so true, stands for nothing peculiar to this particular event, but is common to all similar events, and so it can in any case just as well be taken for granted. It does not help the scientist at all in his special work. It is not simply two bodies that attract each other, but two bodies with a definite mass, and a definite distance apart. The effect is not simply the fall of a stone, but the stone falls with a certain velocity. Science aims to state these facts exactly, to describe in exact terms the whole event in so far as this is necessary in order to get the law which it follows of course with an interest in it, not as a particular event, but as a means of reaching a for- mula that shall apply to other events as well. With this aim the concept of force is superfluous. Science does not attempt to state why, but how, bodies move. All that it cares to know is the law which 144 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD events follow, the definite relationships which they disclose. But it is another thing to say that the scientific meaning of causality exhausts the full content of the conception. It should be remembered that the scientific use is a special and to some extent an arti- ficial one. The idea of cause enters into our natural view of the world long before we approach it scien- tifically. And in this natural view it is not so simple a matter to get rid of the element of "causal effi- ciency,'' or of a connecting bond. When we look at the world naturally, things do inevitably seem to affect one another. And if the sceptic tries to prove that all we possibly can know is a string of succes- sive events, and that no scrutiny can reveal any bond of influence between them, he has to meet the ob- jection that at least we talk of efficiency, of one thing acting on another; and when we attempt to ex- plain this as a mere time succession, invariably we find that we have not exhausted all that we supposed ourselves to mean. The world of our common ex- perience is a unity; and one of the main instruments for effecting this unity is" the idea of cause. Pri- marily the use of the causal concept is not theoret- ical, but practical. We search for causes and effects in order to bring the world of things into a workable connection with our active purposes. The causal relation is first recognized between the elements that enter into our practical and teleological experience. It is for the reason that objects as isolated or as THE RELATION OF GOD AND NATURE 145 merely connected in space and time could have no practical significance for us, that the conception of "things, " in a world that is built up out of our practi- cal experience with things, takes the causal form that it does. A " thing," considered solely by itself, might be looked at simply as a union of certain qualities be- longing together in space. But in reality this is not sufficient to make it a thing. It does not thus exist by itself, but as a part of the world ; and an essential element of thinghood is that it should play its part in this world. A thing that did not make itself felt, did not produce effects, would be a mere floating product of imagination. A tool that did not change the shape of the material it worked upon, a rope that did not hold anything, a stool that did not support any weight, could not enter at all into relations with other things ; and a world made up of such isolated sense pictures would be a mirage, an unreal vision. Causality is essential. It is the connection between things without which they would not be things in a common world. Now right here is to be found a suggestion and so far as I see it is the only suggestion available of that for which we are searching. The problem has been to determine what can possibly be meant by a bond between events how such a conception can be understood. Naturally we consider that we have in the causal connection not a mere time se- quence of events, but something in. the antecedent which reaches out and relates itself to the result, 146 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD furnishes a reason why it appears rather than some- thing else. And in the statement that the causal idea comes to light in the experience in which we enter into practical relationships of purpose to the world of things, the suggestion is contained. What can I mean when I say that one thing affects another? Nothing, so far as I see, except as they stand in relation to an end or purpose. Between two events merely as events there is no discoverable bond. But there is a bond between them, and an intelligible one, when they both are looked at as mo- ments or steps in a teleological process. For with reference to the end one conditions, affects, the other. We know what we mean when we say that the mis- sile which we throw knocks the apple from the tree, instead simply of being followed by the apple's fall. The whole series of facts flying missile, impact, falling body is brought together into a unity by our conscious intention to bring about the result; and it is with reference to this intention of ours that the impact not only precedes] the fall, but is the necessary presupposition of it. We think a bond between the two because of the implicit rela- tion of both, in a certain definite order, to the end we are trying to reach ; this purpose of ours is the unity which binds together the successive steps that are required for its attainment. The point of the conception will perhaps be clearer if it is separated more explicitly from another inti- mate aspect of the situation. If we consider again THE RELATION OF GOD AND NATURE 147 the words "power" and "force," it seems possible to distinguish in them two elements or implications. One is the connecting link, the bond of relationship, which serves to bring cause and effect into an intelli- gible unity, and gives the basis for the influence of rational determination which one exerts over the other. This is what I have hitherto been considering. But there is another aspect also of the idea that of assertiveness, of force expended, of physical as opposed to rational determination or compulsion. Now this can be traced without much doubt to our experience of putting forth effort. The feeling of effort which we get when we exert ourselves in the overcoming of obstacles is transferred to the object, and becomes an important ingredient in the com- plex causal idea. So that some philosophers have thought that in this we get the real solution of Hume's difficulty. But the mere feeling of effort clearly fails to meet the requirements of the problem in that it is quite incapable of supplying any intelligible bond. Between the sense of effort and the subsequent result there is no connection whatever that is transparent to thought. Accordingly the subjective sense of effort that accompanies our active endeavor may be ruled out from the final interpretation of the causal idea. And that leaves once more as the real basis of interpretation the rational and intelligible connec- tion present in a related series of facts or steps united by their association with a common end. Now of course the point I am trying to make is not 148 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD that the bringing together of things in the world about us by their relation to our human purposes repre- sents a real and valid connection in the things them- selves. I have only been trying to find a way any way in which the fact of a connecting bond that involves determination, a reason in the prior for the sequent event, can be represented to thought ; and the only way of representing this has been by refer- ence to a teleological bond such as we have exem- plified in our own purposive lives. A slightly differ- ent illustration may make the application clearer. Instead of bringing hi the ambiguous relation between ourselves and outer objects, a process might be chosen to serve as an example which confines itself to the data of the psychological experience. We might take, for instance, a process of connected thinking. In active thought we have the end in view deter- mining the appearance and connection of the differ- ent ideas or thought elements. But each element also, not in its own power, but by its relation to the ruling idea which is manifesting itself in the process as a whole, may be said to have its influence on that which follows, to determine its place and appearance, and so to be in a sense its cause. And now the outcome of the whole discussion is this : The idea of efficiency, of a connecting bond of i rational determination, is an apparently ineradicable i element of our natural view of causation. But it ) is not easy to understand the nature of a connection between events other than a temporal connection. THE RELATION OF GOD AND NATURE 149 It is indeed impossible so long as we keep to the purely naturalistic plane. But in conscious experi- ence we have the clew to a possible meaning. It is the relation, namely, of means within a comprehen- sive end, of steps in a purposive process. Two ele- ments may have an intelligible bond between them if both are elements in the working out of such an end. One will condition the other, not indeed through its own power as a separate thing, but as one step in a process conditions the next step, through the controlling influence of a purpose which only can carry itself out by a series of steps mu- tually implicating one another. But now this enables us to retain, in its natural meaning, the idea of connection in the outer world, only in case we are ready to adopt the hypothesis that this world is itself in its true nature a conscious experience, in which alone purposes are embodied. With this in- terpretation, we are able to justify the actual causal connection between things in an intelligible sense. For if we look on the world as representing the life of God, and on natural things as elements in this conscious life, then the same general conception will hold good here also. On no other theory does it seem possible to suggest any meaning whatever to the notion of a connecting bond. It is perhaps unnecessary to repeat that if this general view is justified, it by no means destroys the value and validity of science and positive law, so long as these do not set themselves up as a complete 150 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD philosophy. The justification of science is in the practical realm. It attempts to state, not what re- ality is, but how it works ; and its business is to give man control over his environment. If indeed we could know completely the meaning of the world, we might be in a position to deduce the details of the world from this. But clearly we are in no such case. We do not know, and we never can know, the pur- poses of the universe in so definite a way that we can deduce from them the mechanical laws of its action, and so completely rationalize it. And therefore it is wholly useless for the scientist to hunt for final causes. Such a problem is indeed not an illegitimate one. It means simply the effort to get at the mean- ing of life ; and the philosopher is bound to attempt it. But at best this will only be discoverable in very general outline. It will never relate itself to the particular physical events and laws with which science deals. Science must necessarily work from the other end. It is concerned, not with meaning, but with method. In order to fulfil its practical aim it is in duty bound to have nothing to do with purpose or design, but only with the discovery of uniformities of working. It may with justice object when philosophy or religion or any other interest tries to interfere with this task and to dictate its results. But it also should remember that science is not the whole of life, and be less ready to assert that because for its particular purposes a given con- cept is useless it therefore has no use at all. THE RELATION OF GOD AND MAN So far the attempt has been to show that we have a way of understanding what the nature of the ex- ternal world may be, by interpreting it in terms of another reality whose existence is clearly open to our knowledge the reality of ourselves as conscious beings. We are sure that in some real sense we exist, and that there exist also, as elements within our conscious experience, certain perceptions and thoughts which make up what we call our knowledge of things. The hypothesis is that the real things the objects of our knowledge are made of the same fundamental stuff as our perceptions of them. But since for our natural understanding thoughts and perceptions are not ultimate existences, but fall into place as aspects of a more comprehensive reality, ourselves, namely, so the hypothesis leads us to interpret the world taken together as also a unity, and a unity of the same sort as that on which the entire hypothesis rests the unity of a personal being. But now there clearly are two further questions, at least, that will need to be considered before the hypothesis can appear well grounded. In the first place, it will be necessary to ask more exactly 152 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD in what the nature of our own experience consists. Most of us are tolerably sure of our own existence ; but it might puzzle us to give any coherent account of what we mean by this. And even after we had attained a definition there might be difficulties presumably, indeed, there would be in transfer- ring the conception to a being the conditions of whose life are so different as those of God's life must certainly be. Can we the question has repeatedly been asked assign to a reality whose existence is supposed to be infinite and eternal, any conception derived from a being confessedly not infinite, but definitely and painfully limited in its nature ? This will need some special attention. And then also there is this second problem which arises. It has been sim- ply the natural world in its relation to our knowledge which has thus far been the determining factor in the hypothesis. But we certainly are not to forget that besides external things there are other realities which have to be fitted into the scheme of the universe. We as human beings also exist, and our relation accordingly to the underlying reality which we have called God will need to be determined. It is to this latter question that I shall turn first. The problem in its most general form is this: We are in search of some conception which will en- able us to give an intelligible answer to the question as to the nature of the unity that binds the whole sum of existing things together. Now in so far as it is a case of things, we have already an answer to THE RELATION OF GOD AND MAN 153 the question. Their unity is that which comes from belonging to what we know empirically as a single conscious whole. Such a conception may indeed need further scrutiny. But nevertheless it represents an undeniable fact of experience. Whatever may be required for its adequate description, we are as- sured that it is possible for a great variety of distinct objects in consciousness to enter into what is at the same time a conscious unity, because at any moment this comes home to us as a fact of immediate experi- encing. Now it may perhaps seem that in this same con- ception we also have the solution to the further prob- lem the nature of the unity of God and of lesser conscious beings. And indeed the solution has been, and is, a fairly common one. That not only things, but persons, are hi truth no more than elements in the all-embracing unitary consciousness of God, is one of the forms of that pantheistic -conception of the world which has always shown itself one of the most seducing of philosophical theories. It is a conception which has more than a logical motive back of it. The needs of religion may seem, on the surface at least, to point in this direction. Cer- tainly religion tends naturally to use words that may easily suggest a pantheistic interpretation. That God is all in all, that in him we live and move and have our being such phrases fall naturally from the lips of the religious man, and in their literal acceptation would appear to point most naturally 154 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD to a reduction of every reality without exception to a portion of the divine consciousness. How else, one may say, are we to save the absoluteness of God, who ceases to be infinite if he is limited by beings outside himself? And, on the other hand, our own reality might seem to be endangered, the more we insist upon our separation from that which we take to be the source and essence of all reality alike. Nevertheless there seem to be serious difficulties in the way of accepting this solution. In the first place, it may well be doubted to what extent it really expresses the religious consciousness or the religious need. It is always safe before we make much use of a term to attempt to translate it back pretty directly into concrete human experience. Now of the phrase " identity with God" what meaning of practical significance and value does it have ? We may grant that it means something religiously significant; the question is about its interpretation. When we make that interpretation in the form of an actual absorp- tion into God's being in the way of constituting an identical part of his consciousness, as a sensation or a thought enters into the complex of the conscious unity which we call ours, does this represent a con- ception of actual experimental worth? And if it does, what form does that worth take? Thus I may speak intelligibly of identifying myself with a cause. But I mean, of course, simply this : that I take up certain ends in my own consciousness and use them to regulate my life. If God were to be THE RELATION OF GOD AND MAN 155 reduced simply to an ideal without objective reality, tnen this might be the meaning we should assign to identification with God; but such an interpretation is obviously inadequate to a philosophy which makes the relationship between God and man an actual fact of existence. Or, once more, we may take what would seem to be a more fruitful direction. The modern world is coming more and more to feel that if there is to be any real body and permanent satis- faction to the spiritual life, it will have to be carried back in large part to the sort of experience that we get concretely and verifiably in our everyday human and social relationships. If we cannot discover the clew to its meaning in such terms, which more and more are recognized as constituting the central core of value in our lives, then we are likely in the end to find that we have attenuated its worth and weakened its hold upon man's allegiance. Now here also in the social realm there is a verifiable and significant sense in which we may talk of identifying ourselves with others. But it distinctly is not to merge our con- scious lives into a single and inseparable whole of conscious content. Rather it is to work for common interests and care for the same things, to feel a con- cern each for the other's welfare, a respect for his character, a regard for the essential individuality of the other. Two things in this situation and these two the most fundamental are wholly foreign to an absolute merging and absorption. Love, as human love, presupposes necessarily the self -identical and 156 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD independent consciousness of the one toward whom it is directed. And the moral life, about which some of the deepest values cling, in its turn involves alike a personal autonomy which absorption would de- stroy, and an extra-personal, an outgoing and un- selfish concern for others, for which no converging of all reality to a single self-conscious centre could find a place. So much briefly for the difficulty that is raised by certain of our spiritual interests. One might elabo- rate also the more technical objection which has already been suggested : that to thrust human selves bodily into a larger consciousness would confuse seriously the outlines of the world of our knowledge, and leave us frankly without any comprehension of the real nature of things concretely. But the point on which I prefer to dwell is of a more distinctly logical kind, and has the advantage that if it is valid at all, it is decisively valid. And in a word it is this : There are certain aspects of our actual human ex- perience which I do not see how it is possible to make consistent with an all-inclusive experience without practically denying their existence outright. The point is at bottom simple. I will take as an illus- tration the fact of ignorance. I am, we will suppose, at work upon a problem which baffles me and of whose complete solution I am at present unaware. This present state of consciousness of mine is a con- crete fact which psychology may make an object of study. Now can this concrete state of mind exist un- THE RELATION OF GOD AND MAN 157 changed in all its detail in an all-knowing conscious- ness? I can only reply that to me the supposition seems to involve a contradiction in terms. What gives it plausibility is a fact of experience which in reality when examined offers a basis for no such con- clusion. It is perfectly true that my former igno- rance may well be included, in a sense, in a later experience which recalls the details of the former dif- ficulty while yet it sees the way out. But in what sense? Not that I can feel ignorant and feel that I am not ignorant within the same pulse of conscious realization, but that I can remember my former ig- norance even now that I have passed beyond it; and this is a very different thing. Surely not all the aspects of the earlier experience would be present unchanged in the later one, the actual feel of it, its peculiar and intimate emotional atmosphere. Would not that come pretty close to being an example of the psychologist's fallacy? Take the feeling of being baffled. Can I feel baffled and see the solution in the same experience ? Can I feel baffled and feel everything sun-clear all as a unitary fact of conscious- ness ? I can remember that I was baffled in the past. But this is not identically the same fact as the pre- ceding fact. The very instant the truth begins to dawn upon me my state of mind suffers a transfor- mation, and the distinguishing tone of the instant before has disappeared. It is very likely indeed that there may be an emotional reverberation that per- sists into the new conditions. My body is keyed to 158 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD the prior situation, and it need not on the moment lose the peculiar thrill of the nerves that belongs to this. But that special state of mind which we call as a whole the sense of ignorance is gone the moment the light breaks in. The only way to recover it in its original completeness would be to go back to the earlier conditions and banish again for a time from consciousness my more recent and completer knowl- edge. Nor again is this new state of knowing itself the same fact that it would have been had a pre- vious experience not existed in which my whole con- sciousness was tinged temporarily by the presence of a problem unsolved. Had there not been a period in which I did not see the solution, I could not now know my ignorance ; and my sense of a knowledge that has issued from ignorance is a different state of mind from something that was eternally knowledge. The point is, then, that the attempt to conceive what we call human experience as an identical part of a comprehensive and all-knowing experience in- volves the confusion between the existence of a state as a fact of immediate experiencing, and a subsequent knowledge of that state separated from it empirically by an interval of time. More particularly does the problem press us when we are dealing with the emo- tional and volitional aspects of our conscious life. An intellectual or perceptual content may indeed enter into various combinations without suffering any change that forces itself upon our attention, and it is through having an intellectual content chiefly THE RELATION OF GOD AND MAN 159 in mind that the difficulty has so often passed un- heeded by the pantheist. But our feelings very obviously are closely bound up with the very limita- tions of our conscious life, and how these limitations are to be overcome without altering the emotional aroma is not to my mind at all apparent. For one thing, it is a frequent quality of emotions that they dominate consciousness as a whole, fill for the time being every nook and cranny of the mind ; and their quality would be distinctly different were this not so. An emotion of joy, for example, which wholly pos- sesses us, is not the same emotion as joy which leaves room for some tincture of regret, or disillusionment, or questioning about our perfect happiness. But human emotions never can characterize God's con- sciousness as a whole, and for that reason man's emotions never can come home in terms of immediate and identical feeling to an all-embracing experience. Is my feeling of ignorance or despair identical with anything that can exist for God's consciousness? Suppose my despair is for the moment utter and com- plete. Can God have an identical feeling without himself being in complete despair? Is my feeling different from God's? Does the human fact change as it enters into the larger whole ? It is almost im- possible to state the theory without using words which imply that this is so; it is quite impossible in my opinion to think it without recognizing that it must be so. But if the human fact is changed, it is not the same. There are, that is, two facts, only one of which l6o RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD comes directly within the absolute experience. My actual feeling is something which God cannot feel as I jeel it. Or consider once more the fact of limita- tion itself. That our consciousness is limited there can be no doubt. It is equally certain that we may have a sense of this limitation. But how again could a being have a sense of limitation for whom the limita- tion did not exist at all ? It is not the fact of being a part which causes the difficulty, but the quality of consciousness which goes along with this. In par- ticular, a distinction must be made between the con- sciousness that a total experience has of one of its dis- tinguishable parts, and the feeling which a smaller totality may have of its own partial and limited character. A sensation in my experience does not feel itself a limited element of experience, though I, the total consciousness, can know it to be such. But I as a human self can feel my own restrictions, and this means the addition of a novel element to the situa- tion. The being a part de facto, and the recognition by this part that it is a part, are two entirely different things. And there is no fact of experience whatso- ever that gives us a way of understanding the latter case the inclusion of a self-conscious state in a larger whole. The analogy is based upon the pres- ence in consciousness of what we know to be a part, such as, for example, a sensation, and not on a part which is 5e//-conscious. If, then, there is any force in the difficulty I have raised, I see only two possibilities open. Either we THE RELATION OF GOD AND MAN l6l must deny that the apparent facts of human con- sciousness the facts that psychology investigates have as such any existence. Or we must admit that there are facts which we know to exist, but which cannot be conceived as lying within a single compre- hensive experience. The human self, in other words, cannot be brought bodily within a larger conscious- ness existing at the same moment of reality and over- lapping it. It must have a life in some real sense, as a matter of immediate experiencing, unshared even by God. The idea of an inclusion within a single unitary consciousness cannot be the true solution of the problem which we have on hand, and it will be necessary to look for some other way of meeting the demand that the world should have a unity. Now there is another way in which we are accus- tomed, as a matter of actual fact, and philosophy is not called upon to invent its categories, but only to discover them, to think a unity to the world of spirit, and a way which is moreover for practical thought far more vital and ultimate than mere in- clusion within an empirical unity of consciousness. This is through the notion of cooperation in common purposes or ends. If I look to what I mean by a self, it is always a self in active relationship with other selves. The unity which includes them is not any- thing that merges them into a single self. It is the unity of end which, present ideally in the thought of each, enables them to act together and contribute mutually to one another's life. The connection is l62 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD one of active cooperation between beings who possess each a life of his own, rather than of identity or in- clusion within a single conscious whole. It is only in the realm of knowledge that all the universe gets actually brought together in the same mind, the same unity of conscious content. But knowledge is only representative and secondary ; the unity of the reality which it represents the world of selves is of a different sort. The ideal representation of the whole in knowledge is only a means through which each individual is enabled to play his part in the higher unity the unity of social life and cooperation. Men are united, not by literal identity, but through their participation in common purposes which the ideal transcendence involved in knowledge renders possible a participation which is so far from deny- ing their separate personal existence that it presup- poses it. For it is on personal relationships that the worth and meaning of the ends are based. We have only, then, to extend this conception a step farther, in order to pass from what is merely an account of the social order to a philosophy of the universe. The ultimate way for understanding the universe is not self-consciousness, but a society of selves. But in this community there is one member who occupies a quite exceptional position. For God, as the inner reality of what we call the world of nature, stands clearly somehow in a special way at the centre of things, as human selves do not. In him there are summed up the conditions which are needed THE RELATION OF GOD AND MAN 163 to account fully for the lesser world of our own more immediate social experience, since the lives of men confessedly have their roots in nature. In him therefore we may suppose the unity of the whole is directly reflected, and there are gathered the broken threads of the universal purpose as it appears in our partial and limited human experiences. But none the less, if we are to follow the conception, is he still only one member of the community, and not the whole sum of existing things. He exists as one whose nature needs the positing of other lives which do not come within the same immediate conscious unity as his own. He also is a social being as men are, and finds his life in social cooperation, though the complete con- ditions of his life may be eternally present to his con- sciousness as they are not to ours. But while his knowledge thus may cover all existence, the inclusion will be one of knowledge simply. My conscious life will still be mine alone, which no one else in the uni- verse can directly share, not even God himself. No one else feels my feelings or has my sensations. Of course, it is not to be expected that the concep- tion that has just been proposed should pass without further scrutiny. It is indeed a simple and familiar one, which is so much in its favor; and its signifi- cance for human life requires no argument. There are, however, questions which clearly need further attention before it can be adopted finally, and diffi- culties that will have to be considered. Meanwhile 164 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD it is desirable to keep in view just what it is that the conception involves, and not to exaggerate the diffi- culties by refusing to keep the qualifying considera- tions in their proper balance. The theory can be taken to mean, for example, that each self has an existence in its own right, is absolutely separate and independent, and that the relations to others are superinduced upon it ; whereas the very point of the conception is that reality consists of selves in relation. The relation to other selves, and more ultimately to God, is absolutely indispensable to the life and reality of these constituent parts of the whole society. The recognition of ends reaching beyond the self- contained matter of their immediate feelings is nec- essary to give to their lives content and meaning. What this signifies, again, is to be determined, not by speculation, but by appealing to experience itself, and to the clear fact that the concrete filling of our lives as human beings does thus implicate the social world to which we belong, and apart from this would be indefinitely poorer and more abstract. But now this applies to God also as well as to man. He too does not stand out in hard and fast independence of the realm of lesser selves. These are equally a part of reality with God, and are implicated in his nature as he in theirs. This latter aspect of the relation- ship the dependence of man upon God is at the bottom of what we commonly think of as crea- tion. And there is a. sense in which we may speak of man as created by God. When, that is, we take THE RELATION OF GOD AND MAN 165 the ordinary point of view of the world process as one which goes on in time, man clearly makes his appearance only at a certain point. His life cannot be explained except by taking into account conditions already present in the world of nature, and he has no independence or freedom of action outside the general laws which govern this world. But if we use the word "creation," we should not be misled by its common connotation. Strictly it should mean no more than causal and rational dependence. The other side of the relationship should equally be borne in mind, according to which God also is in a sense dependent upon man. Creation must not be taken to imply, that is, that the created being has no essential relationship except to the mere will and power of God, and that its existence therefore is an arbitrary matter. God is not first of all a being sufficient to himself, who afterwards decides to create other selves. He is social in his inmost nature. And accordingly I am an essential and original constituent of reality, in the sense that my life enters ideally into the purpose which from all eternity is working itself out in the life of the universe, and which we may suppose is eternally present in the consciousness of God. God would not be himself were it not for the part which I play in his life. My life is not indeed eternal in the sense that it has existed as an actual psychological experience throughout all time. But in the one truly permanent being, God, who is now, and was, and ever shall be, this life of mine is eter- l66 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD nally implicated. The relationship to human lives that are later to appear enters from the beginning into the make-up and meaning of God's nature. So when reality is taken in its full compass these human selves, each with its own private store of feeling, and with its special part to play in action, are ultimate elements within it. It may be brought against this as an objection that we are distinguishing between God and absolute reality, and are making God less than the whole, and therefore finite. Of course in a sense this is true. God's immediate life on such a showing is not co- extensive with reality. He may be absolute in knowl- edge, absolute in the completeness of his experience which has no broken edges of this I shall speak presently ; but he is in point of existence less than the whole. The objection, however, usually is in- tended to imply and this need not be true that in saying this we are limiting God in point of value. Which, however, represents the higher type of exist- ence, I will ask, judging by the best standard we are able to apply, a being shut up within the limits of his own self-centred nature, or one who finds his life by losing it in the common life which he shares with others? And if the latter is our truest ideal, why should we still claim that because God is such a God rather than another his dignity is thereby lowered ? It may be the very condition of his absoluteness in the true sense that there should be beings beyond him to increase the perfection of his own life. Spir- THE RELATION OF GOD AND MAN 167 itual being and spiritual completeness override the restrictions of formal and mechanical thought. "The more angels, the more room;" the greater the number of those to whom I stand socially related, the greater the possibility of harmony and self -com- pleteness in my life. And if it be said that we do not see how reality can give rise to such quasi-separate- ness of existence, I do not understand why it is not legitimate to fall back upon the answer that it is our business to state what reality is, and not how it is possible, or the way it was made. If such a concep- tion can be thought free from self-contradiction, and if it should happen to be a conception to which the facts of life point, is not that enough ? It is sufficient for us if we can see its meaning. And its meaning is implicated in our whole social existence. There are further questions which must be met in order to render this hypothesis complete. Before turning to them, however, a little more needs to be said in order to clear up the nature of the relation- ship between God and man in terms of the causal idea. And this will give an opportunity to consider one problem in particular which has played a some- what important part in modern thought, and to which the hypothesis enables us to suggest a more or less satisfactory solution. To do this, certain dis- tinctions in the meaning of causality will need to be drawn, which I shall try to make as little involved as the character of the subject-matter will allow. In the first place, we may use the word "cause" in 1 68 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD the wide and general sense of explanation or reason. I have already had occasion to indicate what seems to be our ultimate meaning when we say that we have given an explanation of anything. There are, to be sure, two common senses in which the term is used. In a less ultimate sense we speak of explaining a fact when we reduce it to a case of some simpler and more familiar fact. But such a process evidently assumes its final term, which is thus not explained, but simply taken for granted. To stop thus with a mere " what " or "how" is, however, not a final and completely sat- isfactory attitude. The unsophisticated mind goes on to demand in addition the reason why. And as there has already been occasion to see, the reason for a thing has no interpretable meaning except as it brings in a reference to some end which is served. When once a purpose can be assigned, we feel that we have reached something in which we can rest; the mere flow of facts is rounded into a whole, and we have a system that is relatively independent and self -explaining. In this first and general sense, therefore, as mutu- ally dependent elements within a system of common ends, we should say at once that I myself and the events which make up my life find in some degree their cause and explanation in God, and therefore in the world processes that are aspects of God's experience. If reality is in truth a cooperative so- cial whole, it is only in terms of this whole that the meaning of my life can be at all understood. On THE RELATION OF GOD AND MAN 169 the other hand, I am with equal truth involved in the explanation of events in the lives of these my fellow- beings men and God alike. As an integral part of the whole of things, what I do and what I am is necessary for the complete understanding of the life of other beings ; and in the same sense I may be said to be a cause. Here, once more, cause stands simply as a requirement for the rational interpretation of meaning. But now, in the second place, within this large con- ception experience points to a distinction. There is a sense in which I am the cause of my own acts as I am not the cause of what any other being may do. Indirectly I may be the source of some experi- ence in another man's life ; but it is always indirectly. I do not consider that I have done his deed he is the one that has done it ; or that I am morally re- sponsible for the act it is he again that is respon- sible. I may have a responsibility of my own in connection with it ; but it is after all only he, the doer, who is the final source of every act that is a part of his own experience or life. For all the elements of what we call the experience of any individual being enter into a special psychological connection with the ends that rule his life ; they form a special system into which all other facts that influence him have to be translated before they become real for him. It is this psychological connection which an act gets in a particular system of ends, and which is empirically different from the looser and less intimate connection 1 70 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD it has with other parts of the universe, that affords the basis for this second distinction in the idea of causality ; for all this system of acts we consider that the individual is alone the responsible agent. But now this leads to the third point the point about which the main difficulty centres ; but it also suggests a way out of the difficulty. If we turn back to the scientific view of the world, we find there are some very strong reasons for asserting that there can be no interaction, no causal relation at all in the scientific sense, between ourselves and the world, or the body which constitutes a part of this world. The chief objection which science finds to the ordinary conception of an action of mind upon body is this : that it seems to interfere with the all-sufficiency of physical law and physical explanation. Modern science, from a complicated mixture of assumptions and experimental evidence, has built up the doctrine of the conservation of energy. According to this doctrine the physical universe is in a sense a closed system within which energy is neither lost nor gained. Events consequently follow one upon another with such a mathematically determinable connection that the intrusion of any influence in their production which is not represented by preceding physical events is rendered highly improbable. But consciousness is not a physical fact. And therefore it would seem to lie wholly outside the chain of physical processes, without causal influence upon them. The common belief, accordingly, that our thoughts and desires in THE RELATION OF GOD AND MAN 1 71 any way influence our actions, would have to be set aside as a delusion. It is true that our natural belief is, without any manner of doubt, that these thoughts and feelings do directly determine our con- duct. To the average man this will appear so self- evident that he will have difficulty in understanding how any one can be foolish enough to deny it. Fur- thermore, it is very hard to see how if consciousness has no practical use or influence it ever could have been preserved in the process of evolution. And yet in spite of this the scientist probably will not be satisfied. His whole temper of mind points him in the direction of a strictly physical explanation for all natural processes. And to give up such an ex- planation in the case of the human body is only pos- sible at the expense of an unpleasant wrench, and an abiding sense of intellectual uneasiness. It is not an easy thing for him to imagine molecular motion suddenly stopping, without further physical effects, to give place to a sensation or memory, or to imagine a movement setting up in another part of the brain inexplicable from any preceding physical cause. And certainly if we could find a way of granting this scientific demand, and still justify the claims of common sense, we could hardly hesitate to choose it in preference to the doctrine of interaction. And this is what I think the conception of reality at which we have arrived will enable us to do. The point of the solution is the distinction between the more general and ideal, and the stricter scientific, 172 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD meaning of the term "cause." All that the scientific demand amounts to is this : that the system of reality which the physical world represents should reveal certain sequences and conformities, should constitute in reference to the relationships summed up in physical law a closed system. If this is granted, it can make no possible difference to science what other relationships to reality outside may be claimed for it. Now, that the physical world should show such a self-contained nexus of relationships is not only conceivable, but in terms of the preceding hypothesis it might even be expected. It has already been maintained that the life of each self constitutes in a sense a special system; and this must be true as well therefore of God, and of the world system which is the particular expression of his life. Here, then, is the paradox, the apparent contradiction. Science demands that the bodily movements should have a purely physical explanation, and that there should be no intrusion from the outside to interfere with a statement in terms of physical law. Philosophy and common sense demand that consciousness be given some part to play, some significance, in the concrete psycho- physical life which includes our bodily movements. And the solution, again, is to be found T >" making use of the distinction between the k and mechanism of the world, and the meaning of tne world. We may grant to science that the brain is a mechanism, mean- ing by this that, like the rest of the physical universe, it works according to fixed laws which science con- THE RELATION OF GOD AND MAN 173 ceivably can discover; and that moreover in these laws it follows the principle of the conservation of energy. But why it should follow just these laws and no others is capable of a more ultimate inter- pretation. The law which the scientist discovers is nothing final, but has its source in the meaning of God's life. So if, in connection with the brain, a quasi-independent fact of conscious human experi- ence appears, if the deepest significance we can dis- cover in the world connects itself with just these finite selves, then they too as a part of the significance of things would help to determine the laws of the world, and in particular of that special part of the world with which they stand in most immediate con- tact. God is a self, a unity of conscious experience akin in nature to the life which we live as in- dividuals. And just as our life has meaning only as it recognizes its place in a community of beings working together for common ends, and yet having each an existence that is separate and distinct, so God's life is real to him only as it involves a social order, a community of selves, whose experiences are distinct from his while yet it is his relationship to them by which the value of his own experience is constituted. Accordingly as God's activity, ex- pressed in the regular workings of the world of things, includes in its meaning the interrelationships be- tween itself and finite lives, my consciousness will be a factor in determining what the laws of the world's activity shall be. To use a human illustration, a 174 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD plan of action which I as an individual form is no less definite, straightforward, subject to accurate and law-revealing description, because I have anticipated other persons' actions and allowed for them in the making of my plan originally. So God's purposes are constituted by the relation in which his life stands to other finite lives existing outside the limits of the physical world which science studies. Since, however, they do this eternally through the medium of the unitary purpose which is the presupposition of all law, rather than by coming in afterward to change laws already established, science cannot appeal to them. Above the system of quantitative relationships which make up the universe of science, lies the world of meaning, of conscious purpose, by which the former is determined ; and of this world of meaning finite lives are a part. As such they are not to be explained by mechanism. It is on them that the laws of mechanism themselves depend, not again in their own power, but through the part they play in the meaning of the whole. Consciousness accordingly is nothing that breaks into the mechani- cal workings of the brain from the outside to deflect them from their course. Science needs none but mechanical laws in the case of the human body as well as of the stone. For mechanism only means that reality acts with a certain mathematically determinable regularity a regularity which it is the special business of science to discover. But as such it is an abstraction. It depends upon the meaning of the experience as a concrete whole, THE RELATION OF GOD AND MAN 175 and, indirectly, on the part which each factor has in this meaning. We cannot, however, appeal to the meaning except as we are inquiring into the "why," the final cause of the course of events. If we want to get at the "how," the actual nature of the uniformities, we must look away from the world of meaning, and so from the conscious human self, and have regard simply to what the course of events is. If we find the uniformity there, the laws which we detect will not be interfered with by final causes, or by considerations that have to do with our own conscious thoughts and purposes, because these are just the things from which we have abstracted. Con- sciousness does not influence the course of events by breaking into an order already established, but by helping determine in the first place what that order shall be. We may call this preestablished harmony if we will. Better, it is preexisting harmony. And if we have not the right to appeal to the existence of harmony in the world, surely as philosophers we are in a bad case. To repeat, then, if by cause we mean a source for the understanding of things, I am the cause a part of the cause, that is of events that happen in the outer world . If by cause we mean inclusion within , or intrusion into, the system of quantitative relationships to which science limits its use of the word, then I am not a cause in this special sense. But there is no contradiction between the two conceptions ; rather one is subordinate to and the expression of the other. THE NATURE OF GOD THERE is still one problem a religious- philosophy needs to meet which has been in sight more than once in the preceding discussion, but with which we have not yet attempted to come to close quarters. There is a certain group of attributes which almost uniformly the religious consciousness, at least in its higher development, has found it natural to assign to the conception of God. God is infinite, eternal, absolute, all-powerful and all-knowing. But while natural, these attributes are clearly going to cause difficulty when we start to inquire in a more definite way about their possibility and their real meaning. It has come, indeed, to be one of the notable charac- teristics of modern thinking its unwillingness to talk very much about the absolute and the infinite. Nevertheless, if we are pretending to anything like a complete philosophy, there are questions present here which cannot be altogether ignored; and the vitality which the ideas possess for religion would suggest that there is back of them some real sig- nificance and value. Accordingly we may turn as briefly as we may to the problem which is thus raised, in order to meet thereby, if possible, certain further objections to the theory which has been proposed. 176 THE NATURE OF GOD 1 77 There are various difficulties which have been raised by philosophers about the conception of the absolute. Perhaps Mr. Spencer's 'have in recent times had the most vogue. The burden of Mr. Spencer's objec- tion is roughly this : We think, it is said, always and necessarily irr terms of relations. Thinking is com- bining. Apart from the possibility of comparison with other objects, we could say nothing whatever about a thing. Now if this is so, absolute reality is shut out from knowledge. The absolute is pre- cisely that which is not relative. It does not get its content by relation to other reality. There is noth- ing to which the absolute can be compared, and therefore nothing at all which we can say or think about it. The very thing which thinking presup- poses is rendered impossible. Before, however, we can hope to get much light upon the matter, it is obviously desirable to come to an understanding of what we are to mean by the terms we are using. It does not need much scrutiny to discover that a good deal of the arguing about the matter fails to do this, and is satisfied to assume, rather, certain popular and fluctuating meanings of the terms without much criticism. It may be taken for granted that the words "absolute" and " relative," " infinite" and "finite," do mean something, that they have arisen in answer to some real need of thought. The supposition that "absolute," for example, stands for no intelligible idea whatever, that it is intellectually mere nonsense, rests upon bad N 178 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD psychology. Terms are not invented arbitrarily without any reason for it. They always stand for something in actual experience which is real, although they may come to be badly misunderstood. What service for our concrete thought, then, do the ideas in question perform ? The answer is clearer if we turn to the second members of the two pairs of correlates. The terms "finite'* and "relative" evi- dently stand for the recognition of a well-defined feature of experience. This is the fact, namely, that those things which we start out by taking as inde- pendent wholes, complete and self-existent, we very soon come to find out are nothing of the sort. Things of the outer world do not stand still in eternal com- posure and steadfastness. On the contrary the at- tempt to think them in this isolated and finished way speedily brings us to intellectual and practical confusion. Things are all the time shifting and changing. At one moment they are; at the next they may have passed into something wholly differ- ent in form. Even if we take a thing at the moment when it seems to be persisting unchanged, we soon find that a complete account of it cannot stop short within the limits of its own apparent boundaries. We have to bring in other things and compare them with it in order to throw light upon the thing itself. We have to find its causes and its effects, apart from which our knowledge of it would confessedly be very partial and inadequate. And the farther we go in the process, the clearer it becomes that there THE NATURE OF GOD 1 79 are no arbitrary limits which separate a thing off absolutely from other things. The direction of thought is always toward a unity more and more inclusive. Now this tendency to unify facts and bring them within a single related system may naturally be taken as the source of those other two terms, "infinite" and "absolute," which we contrast with the terms "finite" and "relative." In so far as they have a legitimate value for thought, absolute and infinite would seem to point primarily to the ideal of a unity through which the particular finite facts shall lose their incompleteness, and be grasped together as parts of a self-contained and intelligible whole. In such a whole, if it once were reached, there would be no longer any need that we should seek for further explanation. It would be self -explaining. The end- less regress of thought would be checked by being brought within the circle of some sufficient and en- lightening principle. Such a whole would be statable in terms of its own content, and would not need a relation to anything outside. It may be said that this is an ideal which never is and never can be attained in human knowledge. But it is an ideal at any rate which actually is at work, and which is at least progressively approxi- mated. It is only through the acceptance of this ideal of unity that human knowledge advances. And this explains the difficulty, the impossibility, indeed, of rooting out the concept of the infinite l8o RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD and absolute from our consciousness. But the point especially to be noticed at present is this : Relative and absolute, finite and infinite, are not separate and independent facts. They are neces- sarily implicated each in the other. A thing is finite only as it is partial, and so as it stands in possible relation to a larger whole which completes it. It is relative only in so far as it forms part of a system of related terms. In all thinking there is the double aspect multiplicity of particular facts on the one hand, unity of system on the other. Apart from the concrete details in terms of the finite and particular, the unity would be a mere blank. Apart from the unity of the system, the details would be wholly separate and chaotic. They would not be relative, or related, at all. Both are equally necessary aspects of the work of thought, and neither has for pur- poses of thought any existence apart from the other. It is by attempting this unreal separation that some at least of the difficulties about absolute knowl- edge, for example those on which Mr. Spencer most insists, are created. If we take the ideal of the unity of knowledge wholly by itself, as just unity without any multiplicity of particular facts which are unified, as just absolute without regard to the group of re- lated data which are made to form a consistent whole, then no doubt such an absolute is unknowable. But this is not due to any imperfection of the human mind. The thing is incapable of being known in concrete terms, because there is nothing to know. THE NATURE OF GOD l8l We are dealing with an abstraction which cannot exist by itself, and therefore it is no wonder we fail to make a universe out of it which is satisfactory to thought. What we want, and all that we are en- titled to ask, is an absolute which does not exclude from its limits finite things, but which rather includes them as parts of a whole. To put the absolute on one side, and the finite on another, as two distinct realms which are mutually exclusive, is to commit intellectual suicide. The whole purpose of thought is, not to get bare unity in itself, but to unify, and so explain, the particular finite facts from which we start, and whose finiteness is just the reason we are seeking for an explanation. A unity, or absolute, which fails to do this, fails by that very fact to be legitimate thinking or a true philosophy. It leaves the whole mass of the data of knowledge hanging in the void. At the same time it takes the ideal of their unity, abstracted from its legitimate purpose, and sets this up as alone truly real; and then it complains that we cannot know anything more about this reality. Of course we cannot. To say any- thing more about it we should have to bring back the particular facts which form its content, the unified data which we have carefully removed. If I were to abstract the quality of color from an object, and say that it alone of all the qualities was real, I could not afterwards complain if I found myself unable to define the object except in terms of color. So if from the work of thought I abstract the aspect 1 82 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD of unity, and forget that this unity only appears in the act of unifying a group of related facts, it of course need not surprise me that the unity has no further definable characteristics. I have deliberately chosen to exclude all other characteristics, and I have my reward. The fact, then, that all our thinking is in terms of relations, does not itself make it impossible that we should know the real. An attempt to think the absolute does not consist in ruling out relations. It consists rather in finding a unity into which these relations enter, but which is itself complete within itself and not related to anything beyond. It is this end toward which knowledge is ever striving. And so it may fairly be claimed that the effort to attain to an absolute is no unreasonable, arbitrary, unmean- ing aim, that it involves no leaving behind of the con- crete interests of human experience for an unreal and transcendental object. It is but the completion of the ideal of knowledge, the desire, natural at least, even if it be not capable of satisfaction, to "see life steadily and see it whole," with a wholeness that shall not lead to an endless regress, or leave us with insoluble riddles to puzzle and unsettle us. It is the desire to feel at home in the universe, to have something permanent and solid on which to rest emotionally as well as intellectually, some relief from the incessant change and instability which surrounds us in the world of appearances, an escape from the haunting suspicion that our knowledge is no true THE NATURE OF GOD 183 knowledge after all, nor even a progress toward true knowledge, but only a practically useful makeshift likely at any moment to be reversed. Chimerical again this end may be. But it is not unmeaning or artificial so long as the impulse to know remains a part of human nature. The sort of unity into which all the multitudinous facts of the universe can be thought as falling, I have tried to show is best described as the teleological unity of a social whole. Of course this is only a schema, an outline. No one in his senses would suppose that we know reality in detail with any approach to completeness. Indeed, the practical use which knowledge serves for us as human beings as a guide to life would prevent its ever being thus finally summed up and completed. But it is conceivable that in such a general conception we should have what in its large features adequately expresses the nature of the real, so that further experience would not reverse or falsify our knowl- edge, but only fill and enrich with new content a fairly constant framework. And I have argued that this particular conception will, in point of fact, find a place for the main facts of experience, and will aid us in solving many problems. But now so far we have failed to do anything directly toward answering the question with which we started, the question as to the possibility of applying these terms "infinite" and "absolute" to God, while still retaining at the same time some con- 184 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD crete understanding of his nature. In the special sense of being identical with the whole of reality, it has indeed been granted that God is not absolute. But nevertheless the definition at which we arrived may prove of assistance. In fact, it seems in itself to require to be carried farther before its full impli- cations are satisfied. For the concept of a social whole is primarily a unity for knowledge. It does not necessarily mean that the reality has for itself the realization of its own self -completeness. Indeed, as a community of beings it cannot as a whole have this realization. Nevertheless this suggests a mean- ing that we can give to the " absoluteness " of God. Even though he be not the whole, yet if his experi- ence is for him self-complete, if he contains within himself the eternal realization of all the conditions that help to give his life its meaning, and so indirectly sums up, at least as a matter of knowledge, the entire universe within the limits of his consciousness, then he can still be called absolute or infinite in an intel- ligible sense. And such an absolute would seem naturally to be called for by the needs of religious feeling and of theory alike. Both have an interest in defending for the conception of God certain infinite, that is, self-complete and perfect, characteristics. For re- ligion God is the ideal of perfect felicity, of perfect attainment ; he is the guarantee of ultimate harmony and of our faith in the rationality and goodness of things, because nothing in the end lies outside the THE NATURE OF GOD 185 scope of his purpose and his knowledge. For if there be a real unity to the world, then an idealistic philosophy at least would have a strong motive for finding this unity somewhere realized consciously. If the whole universe were in terms of what we call finite beings, if it were a patchwork merely of parts here and parts there parts which never focus in any comprehensive centre, then any intelligible understanding of its unity seems hard of attainment. If the whole truth of the world is at a given moment true for no one, in what does its truth consist? If the purpose which rules the universe exists nowhere in its completeness, if in terms of conscious life it is created outright, is a new and unforeseen result from moment to moment, how understand its appearance in this fresh development, or the nature of its prior existence? A purpose whose unfolding comes as a surprise to all sentient beings would appear to be uninterpretable, unless we change in some unknown way our very conception of what purpose is. All this need the idea of God attempts to supply. But now the question is about the concrete pos- sibility of such a conception. Have we any way of making it real and positive to our minds? For all content we can assign to the notion comes from our knowledge of ourselves, and we are undeniably finite. Is not the very idea of personality infected with limitation? How then can we hope to trans- fer it to what by definition is absolute and infinite? Our whole life is a gradual development in knowl- 1 86 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD edge and in character ; if we do away with this, is there really anything left ? I have already considered the objection that be- cause personality involves a social relationship to others, it is thereby unfitted to stand for a description of God. If this relationship enlarges rather than restricts the meaning of experience, it would not seem necessarily to lead to any such result. But to meet the problem more adequately we shall need to turn briefly to the conception of human experience, and ask wherein the real nature of this consists, for only thus shall we be able to judge whether it affords us any help towards that of which we are in search an understanding of the nature of God. Now historically this question has taken form largely in connection with a special fact. This is the fact that there are three main aspects of experi- ence whose relation is neither practically nor theoreti- cally altogether obvious. Indeed, the intellectual, the emotional, and the active or willing sides of life are often in sharp competition. In what way then so we may formulate this preliminary business are we to think the connection of these various expres- sions of man's nature so as most adequately to sum it up in its completeness and with its proper emphasis ? In the past there has been for obvious reasons a strong tendency among philosophers to define the conscious life primarily in terms of thinking, or of intellect. This does constitute the most character- THE NATURE OF GOD 187 istic sort of experience for the philosopher himself, and it is the side of lif e which it is easiest to examine and describe. Recently, however, the supremacy of thought has been disputed, and disputed more particularly in the interests of what has usually been called will. Will, as it is thus used, means simply the empirical fact that we are beings who are fundamentally active, striving, moving toward ends. There has already been occasion to utilize the fact that this is what is presupposed in the bio- logical conception of the organism; and whatever its limitations, the biological conception undoubtedly has been very largely influential in determining our understanding of the psychological life. And its main result has been in leading us to see that both thought and feeling can get an explanation, an in- telligible setting, by being related to the fundamental life activity. The explanation may not be final. But at least it seems valid so far as it goes, and it has apparently to be taken as a starting-point in any final estimate. Thought, from the biological stand- point, cannot possibly be regarded as an end in itself, but only as a function of the whole life process. This process is essentially one of activity, and origi- nally it is activity in the most literal sense bodily activity. For psychological theory the original da- tum is the organism already struggling to maintain and express itself. It is from this that the life of conscious experience is slowly differentiated. It comes into being through the heat of the conflict. 1 88 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD If the activity of the organism were perfectly habitual, it would go on forever with at best a minimum of consciousness a vague, diffused feeling, perhaps, containing in itself no sharp distinctions, no objec- tive reference, no rational significance. But no such unimpeded action, in our world at least, is possible. And the process of conscious judgment is the bridge which carries us over the obstructions our life ac- tivity is constantly running up against, and which adjusts it to new conditions. Thought, in a word, is the means of overcoming obstacles hi the way of the proper functioning of life. It is therefore primarily practical in its nature. So feeling, again, would seem to represent in some way the immediate conscious realization of the success or failure which is attending our efforts at active self-expression a realization which serves apparently in some degree to reenforce or inhibit the action of which it is the accompaniment. To this statement, however, it is necessary to add at once an important qualification. In the biological realm there is not simply a logical subordination of feeling and thought to will, but there is a real subor- dination as well. The essence of the thing for the animal is just the action on the physical side. Thought and feeling are merely means to this action, and, except for the need of them as means, could be dispensed with. So soon as their service is per- formed they do tend to sink into the background. The important thing for the animal is, for example, THE NATURE OF GOD 189 to get and devour food, not to enjoy eating, nor to perform the intellectual processes necessary to find its prey. These last are merely incidental to the main the purely physiological end. But with man, to the extent to which he becomes a spiritual being, all this is changed. Biological activity becomes the activity of conscious and sig- nificant experience. And the essence of the change is this: that thought and feeling are no longer in- cidental to mere brute action. They are funda- mental and essential aspects of activity; all are bound together into an indivisible unity. Action, in other words, has changed to conduct. It is no longer enough for man as a spiritual being to get things done. They must be done with a conscious appreciation of their meaning. Knowledge does not lapse when the preliminary process of thought or judgment ends, and action begins. An activity which does not carry along with it insight into its conditions and end is no longer rational action, but mere habit or instinct, and as such it does not belong to the truly spiritual part of man's experience. So also the whole activity must be accompanied by the feeling appreciation of its value as an essential part of it, if it is to be in the highest sense human. This is the solid basis for the insistent demand that pleasure or happiness should be regarded as the end of life. As a protest against any theory which tries to make the feeling of satisfaction separable from the idea of the good, the insistence is quite justified. 1 90 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD We can conceive a result, indeed, an actual end, which contains no reference to feeling. But we cannot conceive a good end, an end which has value, apart from the inner appreciation of value in feeling terms. Will, feeling, knowing or insight, are all essential to the conception of a spiritual or truly human act. Activity, therefore, which can serve as hi any sense an ultimate conception for philosophy, will differ from the biological conception of activity from which we started. Both, indeed, are based upon the con- cept of end. But for an idealistic philosophy physical activity as such cannot be ultimate. It must itself be translated into terms of conscious activity. Some difficulty has, it is true, been found with this notion of conscious activity. And indeed, were it not an actual fact of experience, we might find it paradoxical enough. But in the light of experience we may not only claim that there are no fatal obstacles in the way of its recognition ; it is hard to see how by any possibility we could get ahead at all if we did not presuppose it. It is the fundamental aspect of all experience. For it simply represents the fact that experience is teleological. We can be conscious of an end, and conscious also that we are realizing this end. We do not simply have one state of con- sciousness following another. We have one state of consciousness looking forward to another, its meaning completed only as the other is attained; and then we have this last state conscious that it is THE NATURE OF GOD IQI the completion of what has gone before. There is no question of a special force by which ideas operate. Force is itself to be understood in terms of conscious experience. All that we mean is a fundamental quality of the process of conscious experience itself; the binding together of this experience in a conscious teleological relationship, the sense of the progressive attainment of an end. And this aspect not only is real ; it is, as I say, fundamental. 1 1 Perhaps a word more may be said about the metaphysical relation between the activity of experience as an immediate con- scious fact, and the physical activity of the body. The body is not what we call ourselves in so far as we distinguish ourselves sharply from other things in point of existence. The body is a part of the material world. In the most direct and ultimate sense the self is the conscious self, the unity of conscious experience. But since as conscious our nature represents no absolutely independent real- ity, but is implicated in the rest of the world, and since in a special way the possibilities of conscious life and conscious cooperation are centred in the part of reality which we call the body, we are jus- tified in saying that the complete self is soul and body. And in part we mean by this that every conscious activity involves also and necessarily a cooperating activity in reality beyond, on account of the organic connection which runs through the universe as a whole. It cannot exist or be understood by itself. This is metaphysically the ground of the fact, which we discover empirically to be true, that no conscious change can take place which is not accompanied by at least a brain change. An entirely independent consciousness would lie outside the related system of selves which constitutes reality. These bodily movements are what we call physical ac- tivity. Interpreted, they are, of course, like everything else that is physical, a part of God's life. They represent the aspects of this ultimate experience which are most closely connected with our own conscious existence. And this physical side to our existence is demanded, once more, by the ultimate nature of the constitution 1 92 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD For the merely physical and biological end with which we started, therefore, we have to substitute this activity of conscious experience. And it has already been said that this does not reach its fullest expression in the experience of thinking. The think- ing process as such is incidental to the process of active realization, and intended primarily to lead up to it and make it possible. It is true, of course, that thought also is a phase of active experience, and may sometimes become an end in itself. But typically it looks beyond itself. It issues in doing, or conduct of a more overt sort. Conduct it is, not thinking, which psychologically and ethically is ultimate. of reality, according to which no self lives unto itself, but each has its life in cooperation. Every conscious act whatsoever, then, involves the reaction of at least God's experience. Stated empiri- cally, even thought involves brain changes. But it only is with God that we stand in this immediate con- nection. With other selves the connection is indirect, through God. We react through body on body, not directly mind upon mind. And it is because the social relationships which constitute our nature are also with these human selves, that the final state- ment of life must be in terms not simply of physical activity, but of overt physical action. By mere thought we might enter into rela- tion to God. But it takes the outer movements of the body to co- operate with our fellow-men. And since the true statement of life is complete, not partial, cooperation, this is essential to the goal of conduct. Even God cannot be truly known apart from the world of men. A religion which is satisfied with mere inward aspiration and devotion is no true religion. It must issue as well in conduct ; and except as it does issue in conduct its own inner meaning and content also are eviscerated. It is the necessary consequence of the unity of the social world that we neither can know our fellow- men truly apart from God, nor God apart from our fellow-men. THE NATURE OF GOD 193 But now it is just the limitations which attend the thinking process that are most typical of the defects of human experience defects which the religious consciousness hesitates to attribute to God. The thinking activity as such is by its very nature the mark of a limited experience. We think only to overcome difficulties. And therefore to a self -com- plete experience to which difficulties did not present themselves, a being who summed up consciously and eternally in his own life all existing conditions, the necessity of having to think would never come. Before, then, we deny our ability to conceive an ab- solute experience by reason of the incompleteness of our own, we should consider again that even for us the processes of the intellect the special mark of felt incompleteness are not final, but that normally they lead to a type of experience less infected with relativity and partial attainment, with a more in- timate sense of organic wholeness, and a greater immediacy of satisfaction. A large portion of our lives is indeed lived in this realm of incompletion. But continually also we are passing, even though it be to dwell there only for a moment, into the higher world where effort becomes fulfilment, intelligent preparation issues in some measure of accomplish- ment, discursive thought gives place to direct insight, and the paler and thinner reality of the merely men- tal life deepens to the full sense of living and of action. Those occasional moments when we feel ourselves under " inspiration," as opposed to a more plodding 194 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD and laborious achievement, are the moments when we reach our highest possibilities in this direction. Such an experience is characterized by the sense of being active, of doing something. But at the same time it is saturated through and through with an insight into meaning. For rationality to be present we do not have to be engaged in thinking or reason- ing. Without the need of setting end over against means as something to be attained in a way not yet altogether clear, and therefore to be discovered by thought, an experience may in the very process of attaining an end be perfectly conscious of all that it means or involves, may feel the whole act by an immediate intuition in each of its parts. And this insight may involve not simply a perception of the relations within the experience itself, but it may involve knowledge, also, in the sense of a reference to other realities which are presupposed in its mean- ing. Social experience, again, would lose much of its worth did it not suppose the real existence of persons whose cooperation makes possible my own inner appreciation of the social act ; and this reference beyond the immediate experience itself may also be separated from the thinking process in its narrower sense the process of coming to know, and may continue after this has fulfilled its pur- pose. And, finally, our activity is felt to be worth while in itself, and so is accompanied by the inner realization of value. For purpose, in the sense of realized meaning, need not carry with it the implica- THE NATURE OF GOD 195 tion of something partial and incomplete, of some- thing not yet attained but only aimed at. It may be divorced from the notion of want and lack of attainment, of mere aspiration and striving. To free ourselves from the superstition that an end looks always beyond the present act, that means and end are separate and distinct, and to be able to find the doing of things from moment to moment an end in itself, carrying the sense of its own significance, is indeed a large element in the wisdom of life, without which life's whole satisfaction is continually put off and sacrificed. There is a familiar human experience which will perhaps help us to realize a little more concretely what the possibilities are of this sort of absolute- ness which we are trying to grasp. In the aesthetic experience we get some of the qualities that we are looking for in a peculiarly direct and luminous way. In such an experience meaning reaches us as an immediate fact of feeling. We do not have to reason out and argue to ourselves about the matter; if we do this, the true aesthetic enjoyment is necessarily postponed. The relationships which constitute the significance of the work of art are there, and on occasion we can describe them and render them explicit. But while we are in the mood of aesthetic appreciation, they come to us simply as added sources of enjoyment in an organic experience; they flash upon us as an immediate whole whose understanding we do not need to ap- 196 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD proach gradually, build up step by step through discursive thought. And the experience is absolute, too, in the sense that it is self -complete, independent of all beside. To the extent, indeed, to which dis- satisfaction and relativity enter in, the work of art has failed of its ideal aim ; for the moment we are sunk in what is a little world by itself, rounded, harmonious, wholly satisfying. I do not mean to suggest that in the experience of aesthetic appreciation we shall find all we need for the interpretation of the nature of God's life. Its character is too essentially passive and contempla- tive to serve completely such a purpose; its mean- ing looks too wholly to the past. The more active side of the aesthetic life, the ideal moment of artis- tic creation, in which, along with insight, apprecia- tion, the flashing of a significant whole upon the inner eye, there is combined the sense that we are achiev- ing also, and by our act are bringing this world of beauty into existence such a moment might stand more adequately for the felicity of the divine experi- ence. In this, too, there is one notable lack. For the work of art is self-centred, it involves directly no social interplay. If now we can introduce this last requirement, with the emotional sense of love or fellowship which it involves, and can make the social deed itself a work of art, a creation whose material is not simply the representation of reality, but the actual stuff of human intercourse, which is not merely true of life, but is life, and this represents THE NATURE OF GOD 1 97 for us a real possibility, we shall have an experience which in a perfectly genuine sense, and a sense em- pirically true and verifiable, we may call absolute. Of course in our experience such an activity is never wholly attained for any length of time together. We have continually to be breaking in upon the course of our work to direct attention to the details, by rea- son of our ignorance of the conditions, and of the means at our disposal. And if we do so master the conditions as to be able to work without recourse to the specifically intellectual process, our activity tends at once to become automatic and mechanical, and clear consciousness to lapse. But the hint of what a perfect experience may be like is there neverthe- less. And though, of course, we cannot realize with any degree of completeness the content of God's life, yet it does not seem out of the question thus to conceive its general character and possibility. If we suppose a being into whose conscious life there enter all the conditions of which his action has to take account, in whom all reality is represented im- mediately so that he does not have to "stop and think," suspend accomplishment until by a mental process he has worked out the means, to such a being the full realization of life which comes to us only in occasional pulses would be an eternal possession. Instead of a string of more or less disconnected acts in the stream of time, his experience would be one of complete actuality, fulfilled meaning, perfect and eternal realization. THE PROBLEM OF FREEDOM THERE are two historic problems in particular which are bound up closely with any attempt at a religious philosophy, and with reference to which a theory such as has been sketched in the preceding pages will need to define itself. These are the prob- lems of human freedom, and of the existence of evil. In the case of both of them it is possible to distin- guish two sides the practical, and what may be called the metaphysical side. Thus, whether one be a technical philosopher or not, and whatever his particular system of philosophy may be, as a matter of mere practical wisdom he must needs adopt in his plan of life some more or less distinct position with reference to the fact of evil; and his conduct is bound to imply certain perhaps unconscious assumptions as to his possession or lack of posses- sion of freedom to act. He may, for example, be a fatalist in his attitude ; or he may, on the contrary, have the superb consciousness of power, of capacity for bringing to pass whatever he may set himself to do, which commonly has characterized the men of great achievement in active life. Evil may to him be a fact to be ignored and set in the background ; it may tinge his whole life with sombreness and 198 THE PROBLEM OF FREEDOM 1 99 bitterness, and make it a constant and strenuous conflict with the powers of darkness ; or again it may call to life the lust and joy of battle, and by afford- ing a field for effort and victory may minister to the sense of abounding life and reality. Now this question of the practical attitude to be adopted, which is without doubt a primary and all- important one, has also come within recent times to be very widely regarded as the only one possible. Of course any one who holds that philosophy is concerned simply with the adjusting of experience, and that problems which concern the setting of this experience in a wider universe of ultimate reality have no meaning, is bound to take such a position. For him, accordingly, the so-called metaphysics of evil or of freedom, which has caused so great a stir in the past history of thought, represents a mere waste of ingenuity. In dealing with such problems the philosopher has been as one beating the air. All that a thinker who understands himself will attempt to do is to criticise the part which these concepts play in experience, and show what attitude toward them is dictated by a sound practical wisdom. Un- doubtedly this lessens the difficulty of the philoso- pher's task materially. But if one is unable to subscribe to such a limitation of the field of thought, he cannot well avoid the further necessity of relating this practical attitude which he adopts to his final theory of reality, and then the need of metaphysics will inevitably arise. It is true that the practical side 200 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD is the more fundamental one. No ultimate theory is of value which does not spring from an understand- ing of the practical meaning of the problem, and serve to supply this with a foundation. But nevertheless the further and more ultimate inquiry cannot logi- cally be avoided. In the present chapter, therefore, I shall have to consider the so-called freedom of the will. And the first step will be to determine what the word "free- dom" means, or ought to. mean. There are some dangers at least which one is likely to avoid if he can make quite sure what it is about which he is talking. The failure to do this is undoubtedly responsible for no small part of the difficulties which have beset the question. And, in the first place, freedom may mean simply the absence of external constraint. If some one takes my hand and by sheer brute force compels me to strike a bystander, no one would pretend that this is a free act. Or if I am confined in chains, there is an obvious sense in which I am not free. There are certain things which I should like to do, and I am forcibly pre- vented from doing them by circumstances which lie beyond my own power of control. But this, if it stops here, is likely to be ambiguous. Even in such situations as these there is an intelli- gible sense in which I may still be called free. My act is constrained. My bodily movements are fet- tered. But in the citadel of my thoughts or of my will I may still be a free man. Such was the free- THE PROBLEM OF FREEDOM 2OI dom of the Stoic sages the freedom of the strong man undismayed by anything that nature or men can do to him; and most certainly it has at least a relative truth. If we follow, then, the suggestion which it contains, it would seem possible to make a distinction of some sort between the free act and the morally free man. An act may be provisionally defined as free, once more, when it represents our own desire, and is not the product of constraint. But in the conception of the free will, the free man, there is something deeper involved which this de- scription fails to cover. For a real and substantial freedom the absence of constraint is indeed nor- mally a necessary part or preparation. Unless I have in general liberty to direct my own movements, ethical freedom is distinctly hampered, if it is not put out of the question altogether. But still I am not in the ethical sense free just because my movements are not directed from the outside. What, then, is the nature of the morally free act, the act of the morally free person, as distinguished from the act that is only physically or psychologi- cally free in the sense that it springs from impulses that lie within ourselves and is not hampered from the outside? We recognize that the distinction is one which we actually draw. There is a sense in which the animal when under the spur of hunger it seizes its prey is free. Its nature prompts it to do a certain thing, and in acting upon its nature it is acting without external constraint. So the child 202 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD who, remembering a former pleasant taste, grasps for a lump of sugar, is free in his act. He is not forced to it from the outside, and there is nothing to restrain him. In the same way the man who in a fit of anger strikes and kills his fellow, or the drunkard who yields to the temptation to indulge his diseased appetite, is acting freely. It is his own nature which prompts him to the act, not an external force driving him from without. And yet there is another sense in which it would be generally agreed that these acts are not what we mean by moral freedom. As a matter of fact we do use this conception of the morally free act to make a distinction between acts which would be equally free according to the preceding definition. We say that a man is free in some sense in which the animal is not, in some sense in which the child is not. We say that one man is morally freer than another, though each may be alike unconstrained, and be doing what he himself chooses to do. What is the meaning we intend to convey by such state- ments as these? If we approach the matter from the practical side, we may easily distinguish a somewhat definite mean- ing. The definition of freedom implied so far has been in terms of the ability of a man to do what he wants to do ; and so far as it goes, this would seem to be on the right track. Freedom must be with reference to the attainment of an end ; and not an end only, but my end. And to live out that which THE PROBLEM OF FREEDOM 203 it is one's nature to be is merely another expression of the end of being. But now, on the other hand, moral slavery is also in the deepest sense just a slavery to oneself. The ability to do what we please not only does not guarantee freedom in the moral sense; it may be the very condition of the lack of moral freedom. Why is the child not morally free as the man may be free? Not merely because its actions are more circumscribed by limitations of strength and by environment. Its limitations may even be a means to freedom rather than a bar to it. Morally that child is 'not most free who is most unrestrained. It is not to hamper the child that the parent surrounds it with certain safeguards, checks tendencies in certain directions, but rather in the interests of true liberty. Outer slavery may be con- sistent with moral freedom. Slavery to oneself, to one's own whims and impulses, is, morally speaking, slavery complete and entire, within which no room for real liberty exists. Freedom, then, it seems, is the ability to live out one's impulses ; slavery moral slavery the sub- jection to one's impulses. The reconciliation of the two statements is, of course, on the surface. It is the difference between the satisfaction of temporary, trivial interests, and those which are permanent and comprehensive; between complete self-expression, and such partial satisfaction as will in the end prove a bar to the fulfilling of other sides of our nature which are more weighty and enduring. Why are 204 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD the animal and the child not completely free ? Be- cause they are subject to the imperious, unreflecting domination of individual and momentary impulses. They can take no krge view of life. They cannot look before and after, relating these desires to the more permanent interests in which they play only a part, and often a minor part. The act is subject to their impulses, and not to themselves. For the true self takes in our whole of life and our whole nature. It is the system of impulses, many of which at any given moment must needs be latent. And yet these latent sides of our nature ought to be regarded. Other- wise our hasty, partial self-expression may be, indeed is like to be, prejudicial to our larger interests in terms of the self which is more than any one impulse or group of impulses. So the man who has not learned self-control, the drunkard for example, is a slave. He is a slave, not because the motive force of his action lies outside himself. It is a part of his own nature. But it is only a part, and a part rela- tively unimportant, which yet has usurped despotic power, and by so doing has disorganized the whole system of life and its activities. And not only the weak man, but the bad man, is a slave. He has chosen to develop a part of himself which involves the stunting of that in him which is most truly and representatively human. The definition of moral freedom, then, to put it abstractly, would amount to this: it is the possi- bility of attaining to a full and harmonious self- THE PROBLEM OF FREEDOM expression, of giving play to the complex system of desires and impulses which constitute our nature in such a way that each desire shall get the degree of satisfaction, and only that degree, which is de- manded by the whole truly human self of which it forms a part. Whenever for any reason we fall short of this possibility, we fall short of freedom. The restraint may come from the outside, or it may come from within. When any partial or tem- porary side of our nature takes the bit in its teeth, when it looks upon its own gratification as an ulti- mate end, then we are enslaved, not to our real selves indeed, but to a partial and blind craving whose very condemnation is that it has got outside the limits within which alone it truly represents" our self. Ac- cordingly the very common notion of liberty as the ability to do what we like is so far from the mark that it may even mean the deepest perversion of freedom. If what we like happens to be the unes- sential, trivial, ephemeral part of ourselves, it is only another expression for slavery. Far from its being true that he is most completely free who is farthest removed from the restraints of society and the state, the opposite is the case. The responsibilities which family ties, social demands, political duties, lay upon us, instead of being in any normal society checks upon freedom, are the necessary conditions of its attainment. Only under these circumstances do we find the material for self-expression, as well as get the proper motives for a healthy subordination 206 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD of ends. The savage is likely to be of all men the farthest from freedom, because his life gives least opportunity for the carrying on of those activities in which man is most truly himself. To complain of the aspect of necessity which is present in freedom is as if the artist should complain because he is com- pelled to shape his actions by the canons of aesthetic beauty, instead of being allowed to wander at his own sweet will and follow out every whim that sug- gests itself. He may do the latter, but he ceases thereby to be an artist. Now that which makes possible such a harmon- ized expression of the self is, as already has been implied, the rational nature of man. It is the posses- sion of reason which makes man a morally free crea- ture as the animal is not and cannot be. Reason is liberation from the dominance of the impulses and passions, because it means the postponing of their satisfaction until we have had a chance to see whether they actually do represent our real selves or not; whether we in the fulness of our nature really want the thing that momentarily we think we want, or whether this may not rather be obnoxious to our real and permanent will. This supplanting of imme- diate, unthinking action by a period of deliberation is the essence of reason. The strong instinct to act is checked. Straightway there begin to throng into the mind the consequences our act may have. Some of these consequences may not, probably will not, prove altogether' attractive to us. Other things THE PROBLEM OF FREEDOM 207 we should like to do will occur to us with which the act we are contemplating is likely to interfere. The desires which these represent will also assert them- selves and demand their rights. Accordingly, if the deliberation is full and thorough, we shall end by setting the proposed satisfaction in something like its proper place in the system of our lives. We shall discover our real desire, which may prove to be wholly different from what at first we took to be our desire. One thing more can thus be added to the definition of moral freedom. The free act is always one which proceeds from a rational insight, which is done with a conscious recognition of what its results are going to be. But now it seems to be the natural consequence of this conception of freedom that our acts are deter- mined. They are determined, though not of course by outer things. This last is the essence of fatalism that things are bound to happen no matter what we want and in spite of all that we can do. Such fatalism, which denies to us as rational beings any determining voice in the situation, is so obviously out of harmony with the facts that it is hard to see how any healthy-minded man can rest satisfied with it. It is we who in large measure shape our acts. But still our acts are shaped, are determined, by what we are. That which we do is always the outcome of our nature as it asserts itself at the given moment under the particular circumstances of the situation. Given the sort of man I am and the situation in 208 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD which I find myself placed, and no other out- come would have been conceivable. One who really knew all the conditions could have foreseen with entire inevitableness what the act would be. Now here at last we come into conflict with an- other notion of freedom ; we are in sight of the main point around which the metaphysical controversy about free will has raged. For it is often main- tained that freedom consists just in the lack of any determination whatever. The free act is therefore the act which might equally have been done or omitted. The contention for this so-called "liberty of indifference" is identified with the thesis that when we are at the psychological moment of choice be- tween two opposing lines of conduct, there is a real possibility of our choosing either. There is no in- evitableness in the actual decision. It is necessary to look more closely at what this implies. And first as to the psychology of the matter. What are we to say of the reason for any given choice? Here are desires pulling us in the one direction and the other. But by hypothesis, since both acts are equally possible, the decision cannot be induced by either of the contending forces or groups of forces. Is then the decision simply due to chance ? Is there an entire absence of causality, of rational connection, in the result? Of course the advocate of indeter- minism hardly likes to say this. No, he declares, there is a cause, and that cause is just the free will. It is the will which exists independent of our warring THE PROBLEM OF FREEDOM 2OQ impulses, and which by its unconstrained fiat throws the weight of its influence in the one scale or the other. Now what one has to ask is this : Is such an idea of will conceivable? Does it not actually land us in the position already suggested, namely, that the choice is absolutely a matter of chance with no intelligible cause? For how, it may be asked, does this supposed free will act? In more definite terms, does it act under the influence of motives or not ? And I understand the word "motive" in terms of this tendency which we have toward some particular course of action representing the satisfaction of a concrete desire; the bringing to consciousness of such an end con- stitutes a motive. Now if the will is not determined by motives, then not only is it able to take either direction, but seemingly it is equally liable to take either direction. There is absolutely nothing to give any ground for supposing that it will take one course in preference to another, even to one who is perfectly aware of all the concrete conditions in the case. The will is entirely irresponsible. In the teeth of any possible reasons for or against, it may fall back upon a decision entirely unreasoned, and lying wholly in its own arbitrary nature. But in point of fact is not this precisely the same as saying that the choice is due to chance ? No, the advocate of free will may answer, the will does not act independently of motives. It takes motives into account. But it is not their slave, and p 210 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD it decides in the end which motive is to be preferred. But that is exactly the point. Just so far as it stands for the power of choice between motives and that is its whole function it is unmotived and arbitrary. For what again is a motive ? A motive is based upon a concrete desire or tendency of our nature in some particular direction. Nothing could possibly be a motive for us had we not already somewhere within us a disposition to act or to do something. Food is no motive to a man who is not hungry, money to a man whose wants it will not satisfy, public opinion to one who does not feel himself inclined to get his neighbor's good will. Now if the will simply decides between motives, it is itself unmotived and unreasoned. Is it said that the motive actually chosen is itself the reason ? It may be a reason for the act. But unless we admit the whole deterministic position it is not the reason for the choice, for that swinging of the balance which gives one motive the advantage over the other. It is the whole point of the contention that it is not the motive or impulse which is itself the conqueror, but rather the will which tips the balance. The act of will therefore, once more, is independent of the im- pulse on which it acts. It may be that it only acts when there is some concrete motive asserting itself. But just that part of the action which belongs spe- cifically to it the casting vote has no motived reason. If there is a reason, not simply why I act, but why I choose to prefer this act to another, this THE PROBLEM OF FREEDOM 211 reason must be in terms of some other motive or tendency of my nature. And in that case the will is determined by this, and is not free in the libertarian sense. Once more, then, free will means the power to choose without motives, and so leaves the decision to what is quite indistinguishable from chance. Surely such a position has little practically to recommend it when once we see clearly what it means. Against it there is, in the first place, the universal assumption that for practical purposes ac- tions are not incalculable, but follow clearly defined laws. And the more sane action is, the more human, the more truly moral, the more confidence we feel that it can be predicted with approximate certainty. Against it is the difficulty of interpreting an abstract power of will, as distinct from the concrete springs of action, in intelligible psychological terms. A mere power to choose that is not based upon a defi- nite bias in some particular direction is far from being easy to conceive. Against it there is again the fact that if it were allowed to be true, it would be preju- dicial to the interests of the ethical life. A freedom which is indistinguishable from chance, and which would make the moral man, unless happily he lost it in the course of his development, forever at the mercy of an ineducable and arbitrary force that might at any moment lead him away from the path to which the whole bent of his character disposed him, would be the last thing, it would seem, to which ethics would want to commit itself. And if these last are 212 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD not the true facts of the case, if as a man becomes moral his character more and more influences his acts and makes the outcome certain, we should apparently have the paradox that the more moral a man is the less his will is free. But still the advocate of such a freedom will come back to certain considerations which seem to him unanswerable. In the first place, he appeals to the supposed consciousness of freedom. As I stand before a parting of the roads, he will say, I am con- scious that it is equally possible for me to take either turn, and no arguments can dispossess me of this certainty. Or as I look back upon an act already performed, it seems to me quite clear that I was not forced to take the course I did. I might quite as well have chosen differently. And then, in the second place, it is urged that if this is not so, the whole ethical life is meaningless. If I am forced to do that which I do, if there is no possibility of my doing otherwise, goodness and badness are mere terms, responsibility is a delusion, and it can no more be said that I ought to take this course than that the stone ought to fall under the influence of the law of gravitation. It does fall, and that is the end of the matter. I will look at this last objection first. And of course if it is true, it is a serious objection, and may indeed be given weight even in the face of psycho- logical and other difficulties. I have already sug- gested, however, that it is by no means clear that the ethical advantages are all on the side of indeter- THE PROBLEM OF FREEDOM 213 minism. The matter may now be examined at closer range. And first, as to some of the consequences which do not follow from determinism, or self-determinism, as perhaps it might better be called. Determinism does not mean, once more, that we are determined by forces lying outside ourselves. Of course our surroundings and these from the point of view of our own intentions are in considerable degree the result of chance have very much to say in regard to the development of character. That is the asser- tion, not of theory, but of everyday experience. And yet it is never the mere external environment which influences us. A certain situation may bring to light sides of my nature which otherwise might never have been disclosed. But still these elements were really there. They were a part of myself, and ex- cept for them the situation would not have influenced me. The bad man who appeals to circumstances to excuse his deed forgets that the deed never would have come to pass had there not been an element of weakness within himself to give the temptation a purchase. Another man faces just the same situa- tion and comes off unscathed and even strengthened, because he is a different sort of man. So that the determination again is always in some part at least a determination from within, a self-determination. In the second place, determinism does not say, when truly interpreted, that choice is simply the result of the conflict of impulses, the stronger impulse 214 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD getting the upper hand. This may do well enough as a rough and approximate statement, but it may easily be misleading. The indeterminist is quite right in maintaining that we are not simply the theatre of conflict. It is we who do the work of choosing as well. We may even lend our aid to the weaker motive and give it a preponderating in- fluence. Without doubt this represents a truth; the only question is about its interpretation. And understood rightly it does not compel us to alter our previous point of view. It only suggests that there is one aspect of the situation which has not been explicitly enough brought forward. This is the fact, namely, that we have not to do in any sense with a lot of isolated impulses or motives, but with a sys- tem of impulses. The self is this system. It is a unitary organism in which the aspect of unity is equally important with the variety of the ways in which the self gets expression. Accordingly, while it will do in a popular way of speaking to say that one impulse, one motive, is engaged in contest with another, such a statement does not represent the full truth. The motive is a motive only as it is our motive, as it is identified with ourselves. It is I who am opposed to myself, not one separate impulse to another. Unless I, the organic system of activ- ities, were really engaged, there would indeed be no conflict. It is just because the unitary I is di- vided, is pulled in two directions, that the impulses can stand in conscious opposition. The self is thus THE PROBLEM OF FREEDOM 215 more than any impulse, or any number of impulses merely added together. On the other hand, it is no new increment of force or will over and above all the concrete tendencies to action. It is the inter- relation of tendencies which, by the fact of their inter- relation, are enabled to modify one another, and are allowed to get expression only as they call in play to some extent the whole organism to which they belong. There is therefore a very intelligible sense in which it is not the motive or impulse which conquers, but ourselves. Back of this temporary gratification there is our larger and completer self which has its interest in the decision. The moment we stop to deliberate, each impulse seeks to engage in its behalf all the other tendencies which hitherto have been in the background of consciousness or wholly un- conscious. It is this appeal to our more compre- hensive nature, to the latent but closely interrelated springs of action that exist within us, which makes it possible to distinguish the part that the self plays from the action of the relatively isolated motives from which the conflict takes its rise. And in the end that course of action will inevitably be chosen which most strongly appeals to this larger self, in so far as it is able to assert its nature. The whole process of deliberation is the process of determining what it is we really want. When that is once settled, the appropriate action follows. But it is quite con- ceivable that this should reverse the relative position 2l6 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD of the motives as they existed at the start. That line of action which appeared to us more desirable we may decide is not, in the light of all we find it to imply, really worth what it seemed at first. Taken in an isolated way, one motive is stronger than an- other. If the results of the action went no farther than the present satisfaction, we should unhesitat- ingly prefer it to its less attractive competitor. But this is just what we cannot do isolate motives in this fashion. And when the weight of our wider inter- ests is thrown into the scale, it may enable us to decide against the so-called stronger motive - stronger, that is, in its separate aspect, but not in its real appeal to our total nature. This is what we mean when we say that we have decided to do a cer- tain thing although we really want to do another. We should rather have this bit of pleasure than per- form the act of self-denial involved in giving it up, so long as the pleasure and the self-denial are alone under comparison. But the fact is that the com- parison is in reality not so limited. And when we take all the consequences into account, we discover that we do not want to sacrifice so much for a tem- porary gratification, however eagerly desired. And because we really want the more permanent rather than the more immediate good, we decide as we do; had we not at bottom preferred the self-denial with all its results to the pleasure and all its results, we should have decided differently. And now, in the third place, indeterminism does THE PROBLEM OF FREEDOM 217 not deny the possibility of growth. What it asserts is that, with a given degree of development, and a given situation, a man's act is not indeterminate; there really is only one course open to him at the time. But this, so far from meaning that character is fixed and unchanging, implies just the opposite. It is precisely this act, which is the determined out- come of my present stage of growth, which in its results reveals me further to myself and conditions the next step in advance. It will be well to look at this a little further. Life is a process of self -revelation. Each man comes into the world with a certain equipment, a host of potentialities which are as yet unrealized. And the possibilities of attainment are of course limited by this original endowment. It is but a truism to say that if a man is to do a certain thing, it must be in him to do it. No new powers are ever imported into us bodily from the outside. The germ must be there, to be called into life by the presence of favorable opportunities, or no result can possibly come about. Nor obviously do we have possession of our powers at the start. All life is a process of coming into the heritage of ourselves. We never know ourselves fully. At any moment new cir- cumstances may reveal sides of our nature which neither we nor those who knew us had suspected. "Six months ago," says Theron Ware in Mr. Fred- eric's novel, after his moral collapse, "I was a good man. I not only seemed to be good to myself and 2l8 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD to others, but I was good." But in reality the ele- ments of weakness were there all the time ; the de- cisive test alone was lacking. And when it came, it brought about the complete overthrow of all that outward fabric of character for which the man had stood to himself and to others. Character, then, is something which in its very nature is not fixed, but growing. Its possibilities are indeed limited. No one can hope to gather grapes from thorns, or make silk purses out of sows' ears. But practically there is never ground for any certainty as to what these boundaries are, nor for asserting dogmatically that in any given stage of attainment the limit has been reached. Now the way this growth comes about is primarily by the method of action. Of course other influences that are not the immediate result of our own active experimenting appeal to latent impulses within us, and help form what we call character. Impressions that come to us from the world of nature, and more particu- larly those revelations of the meaning of life which we get from the lives and the words of our fellows, call out our dormant tendencies, and help give them a place in the system of motives which lead to action. But after all it is the supreme test that comes with the need of action which puts the final stamp upon us, and infallibly lets us know what manner of men we are. "How can a man learn to know himself?'' says Goethe. "By reflection never, only by action." We may look ahead to some future possible emer- THE PROBLEM OF FREEDOM 21 9 gency, and think that we should act in this way or in that; and we may of course be right about it. But such forecasting is readily mistaken. It is only when the stress and strain of present need comes, bringing to light our hidden weakness or our hidden strength, that the impress of finality is put upon our decisions. So long as it is merely an academic question, and not an immediately practical one, we simply cannot realize its full significance. Conduct is the normal and ultimate field for growth. And there are two phases of this relation of action to development which may be emphasized in opposi- tion to the objection of the indeterminist. If we take the word " character" to mean the system of tendencies and impulses as they have become defi- nitely organized in past experience, then we may say that in this sense character does not absolutely determine action. For every act involves a situation which is in greater or less degree novel. No man can act wholly on the basis of past decisions, for the present can never be wholly like the past. Of course character, or organized habits of action, plays a vastly important role in determining each new act. And we are justified ordinarily in prophesying pretty confidently on the basis of it, especially when the novelty of the situation is relatively slight. But yet character is not absolutely compulsive. For in the situation there may be that which appeals to forces within us not to be stated in terms of past attain- ment. It is the new decision, in other words, which 220 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD for the first time brings to light in its completeness what our present character is at the time of making it. Each choice is a definition of the growing char- acter, not a mere product of past character To be sure there is a wider sense of the term in which it may be said that character wholly determines the act. If, that is, we mean by character everything that we are, potentially even, at the moment of the choice, there is nothing in the result which is inde- pendent of it. But for practical purposes character means what I have taken it to mean. It is the or- ganized result of past experience, defined in habits of action, and capable of being known and summed up by ourselves and others. And as such character is only one of the determining influences to which the act is due. But now, furthermore, the result of our acts is all the time more or less modifying our character the self as it has actually come to self-expression. The consequences of the act as we foresaw them have not, when they come, just the flavor we anticipated. Other consequences, too, disclose themselves which we did not foresee at all, and which give a new com- plexion to our choice. The result is a certain recon- struction of our motives. The dominant impulses on which we have been acting are either strengthened, or they are weakened, by our fuller knowledge of the direction in which they are leading us. Things which hitherto have meant little or nothing to us receive an impetus, and begin to take on a real value THE PROBLEM OF FREEDOM 221 for our lives. In short, character is in process of formation. Now if determinism is quite compatible with growth, it cannot be held to offer any justification for the attitude of passive acquiescence in whatever chance may bring for the point of view, that is, of fatalism. If I, as the observer of another's struggle, am inclined to shirk responsibility by offering the excuse that his act is already determined, the answer is plain. Given all the outside influences that are brought to bear upon him, and his act will depend finally upon the way in which his nature is aroused by the appeal which the situation makes. But I, as an observer, am a part of this situation, and it there- fore depends upon me whether certain possible in- fluences shall be forthcoming or not. My act or word, therefore, always has in it the possibility that it may strike a responsive chord, and so make the result different from what it otherwise would have been. Upon the giving or the withholding of my help, the whole issue may hang. And while the point is rather more easily obscured, essentially the same thing can be said to the one who is inclined to interpret determinism in terms of fatal- ism in his own life. What is the use of trying? the fatalist says. If things are to happen in one particu- lar way, and that way is already decided, I may as well lean back and let events take their course. Nothing I can do will make any difference in the result. But this is precisely what is not true. To 222 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD be sure, if I do not want a certain end, I shall never choose that end. But if I do not want it, I have no reason to complain that it is out of my reach. If, however, the want is there, by that very fact I have the motive force which is an earnest of its possible satisfaction, if only I want it bad enough to adopt the necessary means. And that involves action on my part, not a mere drifting with events. In numerous ways I can strengthen my desire by bringing to bear upon myself in cold blood influences which will coerce me in the heat of the crisis. I may dwell upon the thought of it, bringing before myself its attractions, and so increase both the probability that it will be called to mind at need, and the force with which it will appeal to me as a motive. I may set in motion influences which will enlist my pride or my interests, and so make it more difficult for me to back down. We are all the time doing these things naturally and spontaneously when our desires are in question ; and we have only to recognize this fact, and note the added motive force it brings to us, to be able to adopt it as a conscious and habitual tool for increasing the likelihood of attaining our desired ends. It may be said that this power to deliberate and to fortify oneself against temptation is again a de- termined fact of character which we are unable to originate. Very true. But the only important thing, practically, is the fact that we are beings who can deliberate, to whom rational considerations may THE PROBLEM OF FREEDOM 223 be made to appeal ; and that therefore by thought and resolve we may influence events and character. Of course this assumes that we are creatures with insistent wants, whose nature it is to exert ourselves for ends which we desire. It may be that there are individuals of whom this is not true. But if that is so, the difficulty is not one of theory, but of tem- perament. Primarily fatalism gets hold of a man not so much because he has reasoned himself into a belief that effort is useless, as because the springs of action are themselves weakened. If he does not really want things, it is of course useless to argue to him that he could get them if he wanted them. The remedy should be applied primarily to the will, and not to the reason. But such a man is at least a rare exception. In the typical man we can assume the existence of desires and ambitions. And now if we add to this once more the further assumption that men are capable of being appealed to by reason, and that accordingly the intellectual recognition of the attainableness of things by effort may have an influence in removing obstacles and spurring on to endeavor, the basis of fatalism is taken away. It is taken away simply by the appeal to fact the fact that we can get things by working for them. And since man, again as a matter of fact, is a rational being, this recognition of the value of resolve and endeavor itself is a motive force. It helps set action free, and checks the tendency to a fatalistic acquiescence and inertia. Of course it sup- 224 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD plies no positive motive. It assumes that the want is there, and it cannot work without this assump- tion. But since action is likely to be hindered by wrong thinking and helped by right, since the belief that a thing is possible will inevitably add to the im- petus of our struggle for it, and the belief that it is out of our reach will react to cool our ardor, the true understanding of the facts, and the intellectual ap- preciation of where the fallacy of fatalism lies, are not to be disparaged. And at this point it is perhaps well to say a word about the supposed feeling of freedom the second thing to which the indeterminist appeals. Before we choose we have, it is said, the consciousness of our power to take either course ; and afterwards as we look back upon our act we see that we really were unconstrained, and that we might equally as well have chosen differently. Now in part this belief depends upon the fact that, for our consciousness, the choice we are to take is actually in doubt. We do not at the beginning know ourselves. The choice first defines our real desire. And therefore, until we have chosen, until we have made up our minds, we regard ourselves as potentially able to take either path. Of course if we did not do so, there would be no occasion for our trying to choose. So again physically either path is open to us, and we often tend to confound this physical possibility with the moral and psychological one. But apart from these two qualifications, is not our assertion that we might THE PROBLEM OF FREEDOM 22$ have chosen differently really a mistaken inter- pretation of our consciousness? In the grip of remorse I look back and say : I could have taken the better course ; there was nothing to prevent me, and the fault was all my own. Yes, I could have done otherwise. But is there not always implicitly present back of the assertion the qualifying clause: "if I had been a better man, the man I now recognize I should have been." Is not this the very essence of my self-condemnation ? I blame and despise myself because I was the sort of man from whom such conduct was the necessary outcome. // I had seen things differently, if I had had a little more persist- ence and self-control, if I had only felt more con- sideration for others, I should have acted in the way that now I should prefer to have acted. But the " if ' ' was there. I was not the sort of man I wish now that I had been ; I was the sort of man whom I now despise. Might I now put myself back in the past, I would choose differently. But I was at the time what my act shows me to have been ; and it could not have been different unless / had been different. 1 1 Professor James would object to determinism on the ground that it interferes with the zest of life. To feel that we are in a cast-iron universe, within which there are no real alternatives, no open chances, nothing left to unforced initiative, is intolerable to the free spirit. This it appears to me is, for Professor James at any rate as a pragmatist, an unjustified complaint. No theory can prevent chances from seeming to be open, so long as we re- main partially ignorant of the world and of ourselves, and therefore are unable to predict our course of action or the possibilities of the situation until our choice brings to light the determining Q 226 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD And the bearing of this upon the question of prac- tical responsibility is perhaps sufficiently clear. If my act was determined to be what it was, I am not responsible, says the indeterminist. Certainly I am responsible; who else? It is my nature which determines the act. I myself am the source, not something external to me. If it were not true that my nature determined it, if there were an arbitrary and incalculable something called free will asserting itself independently of my definite wants and de- sires, then indeed I, as a concrete person, could not be held responsible. For a practical responsibility two things, and only two, are needed. There must be a person to whose own conscious choice an act is due, not to blind force and external compulsion. And such a person must be amenable to reason, capable of being influenced by motives. To hold a man responsible, in other words, is to attempt to bring home to his consciousness the fact that the results of his deed will be made to react upon him- self, and so actually to influence him in his decision. Responsibility is a weapon for exerting a practical influence, and as such it is not prejudiced in the least by any theory of self -determinism. And yet perhaps the difficulty is not fully met after all. Granted that for practical purposes a man may be held responsible, he yet, the indeterminist may human factor. Our practical attitude in this respect is therefore indistinguishable from what it would be if the result were actually undetermined. THE PROBLEM OF FREEDOM 227 say, has no real choice in the last analysis. He may be responsible for the act, but he is not respon- sible for the nature which determines the act. He did not create himself. He finds himself with cer- tain possibilities; and these given possibilities limit with absolute definiteness the field of his choice and action. If we go to the bottom of the thing, therefore, he is not responsible for his act because he is not responsible for his nature. And he can retort upon the power who claims the right to hold him to an account : It is you who gave birth to me and all my possibilities ; you must take the credit or the blame, as it may be, for your workmanship. The difficulty I believe is a more real one than is usually recognized by the determinist, and the an- swer not altogether easy. If there really is the pos- sibility of shifting the ultimate responsibility upon a power beyond ourselves, it will be pretty hard to hold the protestant down to the mere practical as- pects of the matter and forbid his appealing to ulti- mate facts. Of course I may say to him: Your business is with the man you are; no matter how you came to be, you are yourself, and you cannot get away from the fact, and so you are bound to make what you can of yourself and cease from unavail- ing pleas and excuses. This is very good practical advice; but, after all, there is something rather arbitrary in it as a final statement. If some being not myself brought me into existence through no choice of mine, and decided what nature I was to 228 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD receive, it does seem as if I were not altogether unjustified in pleading the fact as at least an extenu- ating circumstance. In attempting to indicate what I think is the solu- tion of this final difficulty, it should be considered, in the first place, that we are compelled to stop some- where in the process of fixing responsibility. There must be a point where the search for a further source of responsibility becomes illegitimate. There is, for example, no real meaning to the question: Who is responsible for God's nature ? God is responsible for his acts ; but it is meaningless to talk of responsi- bility for that which is the original and eternal source of acts. In other words, the question of responsibil- ity only comes up in connection with an effect, not with the ground from which this effect flows. Of ultimate existence evidently we cannot ask: What caused it? If it had a cause, it would not be ulti- mate. The search for further responsibility is just the search for a further cause ; and so unless we stop somewhere, we are committed to the conception of an infinite causal regress. Now hi terms of God's nature this is comparatively plain. If it is said, God is not responsible for his acts because he is not responsible for his nature, we probably feel at once that there is some fallacy present. The argument is based, once more, upon the unmeaning concep- tion of a cause of ultimate existence, of an ultimate which is not ultimate. And if we see that this is not legitimate, if we see that cause and respon- THE PROBLEM OF FREEDOM 2 29 sibility are both to be predicated only of what is derivative, of the act rather than the self or being who is the ground of the act, the attempt to pass on responsibility will of necessity have to be dropped. What is needed, therefore, in order to do away with such a shifting of responsibility in the case of the human self, is to make this self equally ulti- mate with God. And this is the position which has already been argued for in a preceding chapter. In other words, God does not create us by an arbitrary choice of his, so that our nature as human selves is merely secondary and derivative. This nature of ours is an ultimate fact of reality. It is implicated in the deepest constitution of the universe, in the nature of God himself. Reality is a confederacy of free beings; and no one of these is ultimately responsible for the others, since each alike is essen- tial to the whole with which reality is identified. For a self in this respect does not stand on a level with a thing. Or, since every fact of the universe which is not a self can be reduced to the act of a self, there is an essential difference between a self and an act. There is a sense in which an act is also an ultimate constituent of reality. But it is not in the final sense in which this is true of a unitary and self- conscious being. An act is always the act of a self. It has to be referred to a definite whole of conscious life of which it is an expression. But for that reason it can never have even a quasi-independence of exist- ence. It is only a personal unity of experience, 230 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD exclusive of other unities, which can serve as a really individual constituent of reality. Since therefore each self, even God, must distinguish other selves from its own nature, it must regard them as in a sense equally sovereign with itself. It cannot stand to them in the relation of responsible originator, since they lie beyond its own life. It only is to the act which is a part of its own being that it can stand in such a relation. Other selves it simply recognizes, not as its creation, but as furnishing the conditions of its own life. The reality of these related selves is in an ultimate sense not made or caused; it simply is. A self, then, is due to no more ultimate cause. And since an act is always due to a self, it follows that it is due to no more than a single self. There is noth- ing back of ourselves, therefore, on which to cast the blame. We are what we are, it is true. It is true that we did not make ourselves. But neither did any one make us, in an absolute and arbitrary sense. There is no further court of appeal from our own nature. That is; and questions about its ultimate source are questions about how reality is made. THE PROBLEM OF EVIL PERHAPS at no time does man get so clearly the sense of his own limitations and shortness of vision as when in some peculiarly searching way he is brought face to face with the immense fact of evil. What I shall say lays no claim to furnish a com- pletely satisfying answer. There are moods indeed which come to every man when all attempts at an answer will inevitably seem weak and cold. Never- theless, while any statement is bound to run this risk, it is perhaps not impossible to point out the direction in which a solution would seem to lie, though it is well to bear constantly in mind, here even more than elsewhere, that we are dealing only with approximations. If one were to exalt the first natural impression that the facts of life make upon him into a specula- tive theory, he would very probably divide the uni- verse somehow between two principles, one of good and the other of evil, both alike real and positive, and each engaged in everlasting warfare with the other. This is perhaps the most obvious way in which to picture to our minds the reason for the actual mixture which we find in the world. More- over, it has a certain dramatic quality which makes 231 232 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD it striking and impressive to the imagination. The thought of the world as the theatre of a mighty con- flict between hostile powers has therefore familiarized itself to men, sometimes in religion, sometimes in literature, and occasionally in philosophical thought. And yet almost necessarily it has to be modified to some extent in order to make its full appeal, and this dramatic defect is indicative of its philosophical weakness also. For taken in its strict form it baffles the imagination finally by bringing things to a dead- lock that allows of no issue. And so ultimately it makes the whole world process not simply unmean- ing, but wearisome as well ; there is nothing on which the imagination can rest. Accordingly there has to be introduced into the conception, before it can get any wide human hold, the suggestion at least of a final subordination. No matter how deadly the issue now may be, how powerful the hosts of evil, there lies in the background the reference to a day of fate when the struggle shall find its consummation and its meaning. Or, to put it in the language of technical philosophy, it involves a dualism, and a dualism which is ultimate can never be satisfactory to reason any more than to imagination. We may very conceivably have to admit that the opposition is by us not capable of being resolved. But if so, at least we cannot pretend that the outcome satisfies us intellectually. If the whole meaning of reason lies in the search for a unity and final harmony, such a dualism can only mark its temporary defeat; it THE PROBLEM OF EVIL 233 cannot be a final satisfaction of the impulse to under- stand. And accordingly we are justified in neglect- ing the claims of dualism as a serious speculative solution of the problem of evil. Whether or not a real solution can be found, it must at any rate be looked for in some other direction. The same defect belongs to the less rigorous but perhaps more common attitude which finds the source of evil, not in an active principle, but rather in some passive but stubborn obstruction to the realization of the good, such as is usually identified with matter. " He does not forsake the world But stands before it modelling in the clay And moulding there His image. Age by age The clay wars with His fingers and pleads hard For its old, heavy, dull and shapeless ease. At times it crumbles and a nation falls; Now moves awry and demon hordes are born." In religion this has been a very common attitude indeed, by reason of that fundamental conflict in experience which naturally interprets itself as a war between the flesh and the spirit, the lusts of the flesh being then extended to matter as such in all its forms. But this equally involves a fatal obstacle to any real unity that we can give the world, and means the final thwarting of the effort to understand. If a dualism of good and evil principles does not satisfy the demands of reason, so a too easy optimism which tries to deny or ignore the existence of evil 234 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD altogether does not satisfy the facts. Attempts to settle the question in this way have been compara- tively frequent, and they cover a tolerably wide range. From popular optimism such as that of which Pope is the mouthpiece, with its light-hearted appeals to the universal order, to the complacent shutting of the eyes to realities which marks such pseudo-phi- losophies as Christian Science, all these solutions suf- fer from the radical defect that they syncopate the meaning of human experience. It must indeed be in some sense true that if a harmony is attainable at all, what seems to us evil has a part to play in a larger good. But much depends upon the force and acute- ness with which one has felt the pressure of the prob- lem and the need of a solution. If the experience back of the solution has been a meagre and shallow one, if it has never come into close contact with those hard and bitter facts of suffering and evil and de- spair, then while much that it has to say may be in its place excellent, it never will seem to be at close grip with reality, and it will fail to appeal to any age that has seen a little deeper into life. It will tend to be the easy content of a comfortable Philistinism. Few men probably have ever found much real com- fort, except for the misfortunes of other people, hi the well-worn maxim of optimism that a private evil may prove to be a "universal good. To sink the individual's good in that of the universe is just the sign of a loose hold upon the reality of evil. The conception of the general system of things is too THE PROBLEM OF EVIL 235 vague a notion, in the first place, to mean much in itself to any save the mere theorizer about evil in the abstract, And then it leaves xmt, too, what is quite the most important part the question who it is that is to reap this supposed advantage. Good is not mere good in general. It is good for some one. And it is not immaterial, at least to me who am the sufferer, whether it shall turn to my good, or whether it only subserves another's gain a quite indefinite and general " other." To make the question purely an impersonal one, as if it were a matter simply of arithmetic, of balancing states of pleasant and pain- ful feeling wherever they might happen to be found, is to show clearly that the weight of the problem never really has come home to us in terms of feeling. Un- less the gain it brings is somehow made my gain, then my suffering is in so far a sheer evil and blot upon the universe, not to be offset completely by any possible advantage that may be won by some other life. To sacrifice the good of a single sentient creature to a larger whole, call it humanity, or the absolute, or what you will, so long as the realization of the benefit lies beyond the experience of the being who feels the pain, is to leave a fact of evil in the universe which is absolute and uncompensated. So the popular solution which evolution has to offer must be as a final and fully satisfying solution always more or less of a failure. Merely to look forward to some possible future felicity does not justify the woes of the present. or 236 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD " It had not much Consoled the race of mastodons to know Before they went to fossil that anon Their place would quicken with the elephant. They were not elephants, but mastodons. And I, a man as men are now, and not As men may he hereafter, feel with man In the agonizing present." Much of the optimism of the past has been of this unsatisfying sort ; and it is not strange, therefore, that it often should have been impatiently and scornfully rejected as failing to compass the facts of life. The pessimism of the last century, with all its exaggera- tion, at least did a real service in forcing men to open their eyes and look facts in the face. In so far as we take pessimism, then, simply as an insistence that evil is a part of experience which cannot be ignored, it must have its place in any complete philosophy. But if it is regarded as a final account of things, it is at least equally one-sided with a blind optimism. Indeed, except for that intellectual perversity which delights in the exaggeration of a partial truth, es- pecially in opposition to some well-worn common- place, a thorough-going pessimism would hardly be a possibility. It is therefore not altogether profit- able to try to take it too seriously, or to expect it to be fully open to argument. Back of it there is always a peculiar emotional set, due largely to temperament, or to an unfortunate combination of experiences. In either case it is more a matter of THE PROBLEM OF EVIL 237 feeling than of reason, and often the physician can meet it better than the philosopher. Still if the pessimist does enter the arena of argument, and is willing to view fairly the wider facts of experience, uncolored by his own private bias from life, he can hardly refuse to modify considerably the absolute- ness of his claims. For if it is impossible to merge the ills of life unreservedly in the good, it is equally impossible to deny the presence of a large intermixture of good amid surrounding ills. All attempts to deny a positive quality to the good in human life are mere tamperings with the facts in the interests of a prejudiced conclusion. There is not one of the arguments advanced to prove the non-existence of such a positive content of good in human life which will at all bear scrutiny. It has been a favorite theory, for example, that pleasure is nothing positive, but in reality only the absence of pain, the relief which we feel when pain is relaxed or removed. Modern psychology may be said definitely to have set aside such a contention, if indeed it needed refu- tation in the face of its lack of correspondence with the most obvious testimony of experience. Quite as ineffective are appeals to the supposed trivialness and lack of finality in life, its failure to meet certain tests of worth, in proof of the assertion that it is worth nothing at all. Schopenhauer is particularly skilful in marshalling such considerations. He re- minds us that life is a constant struggle for main- 238 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD tenance, a ceaseless treadmill of work and duty which seemingly leads nowhere, an attaining of desire only to have new wants open up before us. Now if the pessimist means no more than to assert, "I don't see anything worth while in all this; it only bores me," there is probably nothing to be said. He is a pessimist largely because he is so easily bored. But if he means that no one else takes any more in- terest in it that he himself, he is contradicted by the plainest facts. This very round of living with all its petty details is a thing which many people find vastly interesting. It may be true that desires at- tained only open up new wants, and lead to no final goal. But in the process of satisfying them there is pleasure nevertheless. And it is the very con- dition of future pleasure that with their satisfaction all desire should not thereby come to an end. To look at desire as primarily painful is untrue to the facts. It is this only as its prospect of satisfaction is too greatly hindered. So a very sad case indeed may be made out for mankind chained down for- ever to the grinding task of meeting over and over again its insistent needs, if work is essentially pain- ful and an evil. But this can be denied outright. Some kinds of work are painful, it is true. But work itself, work that occupies us and calls out our real powers, is the necessary precondition of a pleas- ant life, in spite of its frequent drawbacks. In a word, the trouble is not with life itself, but with the way in which we meet life. And however inconceiv- THE PROBLEM OF EVIL 239 able it may seem to one who views it with jaundiced eyes, it remains true that unsophisticated people do succeed in getting a good deal of positive enjoyment as they go along, and enjoyment too from precisely the trivial details which the pessimist sees fraught with such potencies of evil and disillusionment. The outcome, then, is simply this : The possibility of a life which is felt as good and worthy and satis- fying is not only not excluded, but it is a solid fact of experience. That man is indeed unfortunate to whom there have not come moments which com- pensate for many trials. And if we look at the life of the common man, unsated by a superfluity of sense enjoyments, and too busy and simple-minded to be cynical, we shall often find an abundance of the joy of living, even though to the outsider it might seem that his circumstances had not very much in them calling for felicitation. This is not to deny the evil, pain, and ennui which make many lives a burden, and which come in some measure to all, even the most fortunate. But if evil is there, so also is good. And no one who denies the good is in a position to reason about life and sum it up truly. Let the pessimist turn his eyes to the larger world of men, and no matter how irrational it may appear to him, how little real cause there may seem for it, the fact of human satisfaction and enjoyment is undeniable. The widespread prevalence of a dis- position to question the worth of living belongs, historically, either to an artificial and more or less 240 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD corrupt state of society, in which the stream of life has been diverted from its natural channels, or else to exceptional intellectual conditions. As we look back upon history, we find that a capacity for getting enjoyment has been not infrequently a distinctive mark of the age. Even if we in modern times have come to be too wise to be happy, our ancestors were more fortunate. The zest of life is characteristic of the great periods of the past, wherever there were stirring any tendencies that made for real signifi- cance. It is this which constitutes for us the peren- nial charm of certain epochs of the world's life. Now it is quite true and this needs also to be kept in mind that in such periods the perfect joy of living is open to a comparatively few. Along with the fair picture which the show side of the world presents, there is the great submerged mass of man- kind, the serf, the slave, the common worker, whose life is often brutalized, narrow, and sordid to the last degree. We tend perhaps to look away from this too much. And a large part of the light-heartedness and frank enjoyment of the time would have been impossible, except as these more fortunate souls were able to ignore the misery by which they were sur- rounded, and to take their course undisturbed by the suffering of their fellows. It is getting to be impossible for us to do this any longer. The social welfare, in which " social" is interpreted in terms of every class and not my own class simply, has come to be, or is fast becoming, an essential element in THE PROBLEM OF EVIL 241 the satisfaction of the individual. A man can no longer go his way wholly regardless of how his less successful brother is faring. His imagination has been touched by the vision of the struggling under- world, and the vision once caught will not leave him in peace. This is indeed a great source of the worthier pessimism of the present. In the past the oppressive sense of the worthlessness of life has commonly been due to satiety. To-day it bases itself in some considerable degree upon the great mass of suffering, human and animal, which does not for the most part bear directly upon ourselves except through the imagination and the sympathy. But now this very fact, for any large view of the course of human events, is enough to cast doubt upon the judgment that life is ultimately worthless. The possibility of a sane and cheerful, even a joyous, view of life, as a general human attitude, lies already in the experience of the race. Why should it not be possible for this to come again without the draw- backs attendant upon its limited range and its com- parative blindness? There is nothing chimerical in the hope except on the supposition that the incubus of the suffering mass of humanity is an unalterable and necessary fact. If it once were possible to ex- tend to all men the opportunities for a natural and harmonious life which now are possessed by the few, that which is perhaps the most serious bar to the modern man's enjoyment of life would be re- moved. Such an issue is at least conceivable. The 242 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD necessary precondition of it, the precondition whose absence made it impossible in the past, is just the recognition of the need, and of the desirability that it should be met. Such a recognition is growing every day. More and more it is dominating the consciousness of the age. And with all the powers of men consciously set to work to realize such a consummation, there is no reason to despair of its gradual attainment. The considerations which have just been suggested are intended primarily to call attention to the fact that pessimism, as a declaration that no value in life is discoverable by man, or that such value by the nature of the case is necessarily excluded, is not by any means justified. Men have found life to be good. When certain conditions have been fulfilled, faith in life has been deep and general. Pessimism, when it has been at all widespread, has had historical reasons. It is the result of an artificial attitude toward life, or it has sprung from a pressing call upon the sympathies due to human conditions which we can easily conceive as remediable, or it is the out- come of some other disturbing and unessential con- dition. But this also gives an indication of the direction in which to look for the object of our wider search. Any practically valuable assertion of opti- mism which looks facts in the face must avoid the extremes either of despair, or of an ill-advised and light-hearted confidence that affairs are sure any- how to turn out all right. In other words, an opti- THE PROBLEM OF EVIL 243 mism which understands itself will never say : Things are as they should be; everything is for the best in this best of all possible worlds. It will rather say: Things can be made right ; and I have enough con- fidence in the possibility to induce me to go to work forthwith to bring it about. True optimism on the practical side is not a statement of what is, but of what ought to be and can be. It is a matter of faith and will, rather than an account of what here and now we find existing. It emphasizes the human element, the presence within the situation of the man who is pronouncing judgment, as the fundamental factor on which it all hinges; and it has for him the definitely practical value that it is the thing which makes possible the actual realization of his faith and desire. As a mere judgment of fact it not only lacks this value, but it sets a positive hindrance in the way of such a realization. To take the good as already achieved once for all, to face apparent evils with simple acquiescence, content with the pious hope that somehow they are all for the best, is an attitude pro- foundly immoral. Even pessimism is more attrac- tive than this, for pessimism does at least show that it has sympathies to be touched. It is optimism of this sort which, even more than its flabby intellec- tual grasp, condemns a popular movement such as Christian Science in some of its forms, by render- ing it, in its practical outcome, callous and self- centred. So much for the practical side of optimism. And 244 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD the suggestion which this contains will determine the direction of a more speculative attempt at the solution of the problem of evil. Any complete solution must indeed, I think, go beyond a mere appeal to what ought to be in the future. It must somehow be able to state that reality is at bottom the triumph of the good, that there is an eternal realization of right and nullifying of evil. But this cannot in the least mean that now at any particular moment the good is achieved. Such a conclusion would involve the mixing of two radically distinct points of view the temporal and the eternal. Concretely, reality can only be stated by us in terms of progressive accomplishment, and "now" implies location within this stream of time. The justifi- cation of evil therefore lies, for man, in the possi- bility of making it significant for a process in which, however, it is overcome, and compelled to serve as a means to good. The most serious difficulties about the question of evil come from neglecting this essentially dynamic and developing character of reality, and so the modern doctrine of evolution has been of a good deal of help toward clearing up the situation. In terms of evolution, moral evil at least might perhaps be defined on its positive side as an achievement which forgets that its whole right to exist is dependent upon a willingness to sacrifice its own finality in the interest of some new step in ad- vance, and which thus by its determination to stay just as it is blocks the way to future progress. On THE PROBLEM OF EVIL 245 such a showing, evil would be in its inception no ar- bitrary or unintelligible thing. It would represent, indeed, normally, and perhaps universally, something which was, looked at merely in the light of past his- tory, at some point of time a positive attainment of good. It is a commonplace nowadays that those human passions and practices which we brand as vices are often a survival into changed social condi- tions of what in more primitive and barbarous times were esteemed as virtues, and which were in reality quite essential to the well-being of the tribe or com- munity. So the temper of mind which leads to crimes of violence, to-day only a menace to society, was often needed for the rougher work of an earlier and more turbulent era ; and the hint of the former value lies in the tribute of admiration, unwilling oftentimes, which it still has the power to evoke. Or one might cite the well-worn instance of slavery, which in its origin was a clear step in advance over the older and summary practice of slaughtering all prisoners of war. It is possible to see the process of transition going on at the present day, and the gradual shifting of moral values which is its outcome. The limitation in the range of patriotic feeling, necessary in the beginnings of national development, showing itself as a narrow and ill-tempered jingoism now that a wider outlook is demanded in the inter- ests even of national welfare; personal loyalty to leaders becoming the blind and complacent bulwark pf corruption and roguery in politics; the vision of 246 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD religious truth crystallizing into dogmas and setting itself to prevent any more truth from being seen, - such things as these lead clearly to the recognition that what we call evils represent no fixed group of facts standing out in hard and fast isolation from all other facts, but that any stage in human growth may turn to evil if it fails to recognize the true con- ditions that growth involves. If it means that growth has stopped, if it takes a partial attainment not as indeed partial and temporary and transitive, but as a substitute for what is final, and therefore as a hindrance to the better that is still to come, and for which it should have been a preparation, then, no matter how admirable it may once have been, and how confidently we who represent it may class our- selves among the saints and not among the sinners, the root of the morally bad is in us. "The greatest enemy of the best is the good." But now while this enables us to avoid difficulties which would beset us if we were compelled to regard evil as an ultimate metaphysical existence or entity, it does not give us the right to deny that evil is a very real fact in the world. Rather it forbids such a denial. Evil is a reality. It stands for what taken in itself is not good, but evil something to be hated, and if pos- sible ( crushed out and brought to nothing. It is not so, that whatever is, is right. A thing may be here and now which distinctly is not right. It must be recognized clearly as existing, and as evil. To say that reality is good is at least misleading. Reality is THE PROBLEM OF EVIL 247 good only as it is a process of becoming good, of righting wrongs. But, on the other hand, while evil is real, it is not the most real thing. It exists as evil if we take it by itself ; but we have no right thus to take it. It is not an independent existence, but part of a larger reality. This reality is the process in which evil is overcome, which process alone we have the right to call good without limitation; and by being thus overcome, it helps to a fuller consumma- tion. A subordination of this sort must, it would seem, indicate the only way to a solution of the prob- lem : do we have the right to maintain that what it requires is in fact a truth of experience ? Let me point out once more the danger of pre- tending to a completeness of insight which we do not possess. Any possible answer we can give is bound to come short of the finality which at times the feel- ings demand. It is presumptuous on the one hand to pretend that we can in all particular cases show how good comes out of evil. Over and over again in man's experience there come apparent catastrophes which at least for the time seem wholly dispropor- tionate to any useful result that they can serve. We rebel against the frigid attempts at consolation which bid us see the hand of Providence in so over- whelming a calamity, and feel that they represent the easy resignation of one who is himself out in the sunlight. A philosophical justification of evil can deal only in general statements, and so it cannot hope to put in our hands the clew to every sorrow, or 248 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD to be the solvent of each experience of evil in particular. Again, there is a further limitation to the power of a reasoned explanation of evil which, though practically of less importance, is perhaps for theory rather more fundamental. If I may anticipate a little, it is fairly evident that such a justification will be likely to follow two general lines. Certain apparent evils are, it may be argued, really beneficent, because in the actually existing state of affairs they serve as preventives of still greater ills. The sen- sitiveness to pain which the eye possesses is, e.g., a guard against more serious injuries. Or again, evil may be justified because it contributes directly to some positive good, in particular to certain de- sirable traits of character which need the stress of conflict before they can be matured. Now such considerations, in so far as they repre- sent real facts of experience, are worthy of all re- spect. It is not to be forgotten, however, that both of them rest upon the supposition that the world is of a certain determinate nature. If things are as they are, then it may perhaps be unavoidable that evil should exist in order that the highest possible good may be realized. But if any one should see fit to ask, Why might not the world have been differ- ent, so different as to attain the same results without the stress and strain which is now required? I do not see that there is any way of excluding the ad- mission of this idea as a possibility. To be sure, it THE PROBLEM OF EVIL 249 cannot be proved that ours is not the best of possible worlds. It cannot be shown with any measure of precision that a certain amount of evil is not abso- lutely necessary in order to get what on the whole are the best results. The enormous complexity of the data, and the completely unmanageable char- acter of any hypothesis which professes to introduce fundamental changes into the facts as we know them, make it forever impossible that we should attain to anything save the merest guesses. One can say with the Griffin in Mr. Stockton's tale: "If some things were different, other things would be other- wise"; and that is about all he can say, unless he recognizes frankly that he has left the realm of reasoning for that of the unchecked imagi- nation. But for the same reason, it cannot be proved that a mixed world of good and evil is the only possible one. In point of fact, in so far as we can manage the data at all, I cannot see that it is by any means inconceiv- able that the world might have been a world without pain or sin, while yet conserving all essential values that actually exist. It surely is in the abstract supposable that the physical world might have been built with special reference to safeguarding the physical well-being of man at every point. It is conceivable, as Mr. Ingersoll put it, that health in- stead of disease should have been made catching; and taken solely in itself, such an arrangement would appeal to us as an improvement. To be sure, 2$0 RELIGIONS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD a world built on this plan would not develop those traits of self-reliance, prudence, courage, which the present one does. But this again is assuming that our human nature is a given fact which could not have been different from what it is. Suppose, how- ever, we had been eternally that which we now be- come only by a process of growth. Suppose we had been born with achieved self-knowledge, with per- fect poise of character, with developed love to man- kind and a tempered unselfishness of action. Would not a social order composed of such beings appeal to us naturally as a more desirable world than the one in which we live? If not, why are we all the time working to bring such a world about? For it is not the fact of having failed or sinned which is desirable. It is the self-knowledge for which this is the occasion, and the fact that thus we may be- come stronger and wiser, more tolerant and sym- pathetic. And if we could have been all this without the pain and loss, is it not possible that we should feel we were the gainers? For such a speculation does not imply that we are looking to a state where everything has been won and nothing is left to do. There might still be action, and action for worthy ends. But it would be action from which there was struck out all weak- ness of will, conflict of motive, imperfection of insight. There is an attainment of ends which does not in- volve evils to overcome or mistakes to outlive ; there are normal activities which do not need the spur of THE PROBLEM OF EVIL 251 wretchedness and pain. Otherwise we should have to consider the life which has reached conditions of comparative moral stability as in itself less worth while than one which is still in the stage of learning by sin and failure. Or, in another sphere, surely the artist the musician, for example does not find his enjoyment of the artistic activity greatly increased by the possibility of making mistakes and discords. At any rate, if the partial yielding to evil and the fight against odds in one's own moral nature is essential to blessedness, we should have to deny felicity to God. If now reality were so constituted that we all were gods in miniature, with the quali- ties that evolution has tended to develop in us already safely secured beyond danger of fail, why should we not have a world in which the essential benefits that we attribute to evil would be conserved, while also there would be none of the attending dis- advantages? Once more, this world would only be possible in case growth as we know it were absent - growth, that is, in character and self-knowledge. But this conceivably might be the case so far as we are able to see. And at least the first impression would appear to be that it would constitute a better world. But while we thus can fancy a world which, if we had had the making of it, would have been a bet- ter world than this, and so while the theoretical possibility of condemning this world is left open, it must be recognized, on the other hand, that such 252 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD speculations are practically without value. The amusement of world-building is a somewhat trivial one. Reality is what we find it. We are beings who in point of fact are imperfect, and who have by a laborious process to win for ourselves whatever of permanent good we are to possess. And of this imperfection evil is apparently a necessary outcome. It is the mark of an impractical and feeble mind to rebel against necessity, and soothe itself by dreams of what might be if things wholly out of our control were only different. Any sane theory, either of optimism or pessimism, is bound to give up wild speculations, and confine itself to the facts of experi- ence. It is not a question of abstract possibility, but of common sense. And within this limitation, the question which meets us is a definite one. Do we, as a matter of fact, find that in any large and general way evil has in it the seeds of good? Does experience itself teach the lesson that the ills of life are, given human nature as we know it, of vital and necessary importance for the at- tainment of the results which appeal to us as highest ? I believe that any wide experience that is reason- ably normal must answer the question in the affirma- tive. It is surely a truth which comes home again and again in our lives, that the deepest sense of the worth of life grows out of its sorrows and defeats. It is thus we get that testing of our strength which is the condition of strength itself. It is thus that we THE PROBLEM OF EVIL 253 come to measure the relative worth of what life offers, to see and condemn the trivial and paltry, and to appreciate the real meaning of the weightier ends which approve themselves to our striving. It is to this that are due the fruits of tenderness and pity, sympathy and love, in the form in which they mark the development of the ideal of character which we call Christian. Once more, these results do not flow of their own accord and mechanically. It is the human reaction to them, not the brute fact of evil itself, which is responsible for the issue. And this reaction does not always come. The fruits of suffering may for the individual be bitterness and rebellion. But again, it is ourselves who are at fault. There is no evil which does not have the possibility of good within it, if we are only ready to accept this possibility. This is a truth which the experience of a multitude of men will bear out. This very attitude toward life is itself one of the finest and most significant products of evolution. The spirit which does not exhaust itself in impotent rebellion against the inevitable, but which accepts limitations and drawbacks, in so far as they are un- avoidable, in order to make out of the opportunities which do offer the very best it can, is the spirit which in a special measure is prophetic of good for the race. And this spirit, whose possession is the guarantee that suffering will be utilized and turned to good, is itself the result of the education of suffering. Fashioned in its beginnings by a more or lessmechani- 254 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD cal and blind experience, it becomes at last the con- scious tool for getting the complete kernel of good which evil contains. So that the complete justification of evil is not to be looked for in those fruits of righteousness which come to a partial and somewhat forced ripening in an earlier experience, but rather to the final con- summation of the process of experience, the possi- bility of which exists in the earlier stages, but exists only implicitly. For already in the highest attain- ment of man there is at least the promise of that ripened product of human character which, because it so wills, can make its circumstances tributary to good, no matter what their crude form may be. And when once this attitude is reached, when man has been schooled by events to a true practicalism or realism which blinks no fact of experience ; which accepts these facts freely as the raw material of its action, without losing itself in dreams of what might have been ; which refuses to live in a fool's paradise where truth is subordinated to our wishes ; and which yet in spite of all this sees in these same facts, ugly and hard though at first they may appear, the mat- ter for a complete remodelling; which finds in the real the ideal present, not indeed as a finished result, but as that which the human will is determined to make out of the real, then we have the possibility of the practical optimism of which I have been speak- ing. And the justification of evil-lies in this: that the spirit of practical optimism, arising itself out of THE PROBLEM OF EVIL 255 the process of experience, is the prophet of its own success, and of the actual attainment of the good objectively in the world. This capacity for regarding good, not as an inde- feasible possession of attained happiness, but as the power of creating good even out of conditions that appear adverse, is what constitutes one of the main points of superiority of the modern spirit over the ancient. It is here that one of the striking weak- nesses is to be found in that which was the highest civilization that the ancient world produced. The Greek spirit and genius was one which bloomed in sunshine. The Greeks never had any assured con- viction of the power of man to conquer misfortunes, much less to turn them to his gain. Even the Stoic stopped short with the ability of the will to nullify evil and pain and render it indifferent. For the com- mon view, he alone is happy who has escaped the bufferings of fortune. Since therefore his happiness lies in that which is without him, he has never any security against wretchedness, and no one can fairly call him fortunate till death puts it out of the power of chance to harm him. And so for the Greek mind in the last analysis it is fate which is the final arbiter of man's destiny. The popular doctrine of fate is at bottom nothing but the shadow of man's immaturity, and his failure to attain to the mastery of himself and of his life through the ability to direct to his own ends the chances that befall him. The root of the Greek emphasis on fate lies not so much in any 256 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD profundity of insight, as in that same temper which makes, for example, the typical Greek hero so child- ish at times, according to the modern standard, when misfortunes and suffering are concerned. This may be excusable ; but it is the attitude of the child, and not the man. It marks an immaturity of char- acter, and a conception of the world which flows from it is not to be taken too seriously. From the Greek point of view life is good only so long as it is good automatically. Misfortune is an evil it is nothing but an evil ; and so soon as it intrudes itself, we have to alter our whole judgment. Fate, then, rules the world, since the issues of life lie outside any purposes of ours. And fate is in the end surer to bring evil than good ; at any rate the chance of this clouds all our life. At any moment there is likely to arise that which will make a man curse the day he came into the world. In spite therefore of all the brightness of the Greek life, the doom of fate hovers over it and fills it with a pervading sense of melancholy even where we are least on the lookout for it. Modern thought has tended to lose the sense of fate because there is in the modern character that which refuses to be daunted by evil. It takes evil, not as a given fact, but as something which is capable of being transformed, and made to be that which we choose to have it be. It does not find the world good or bad. It sets out to make the world good, and it is able to do this because it has the source of good within a self who can master THE PROBLEM OF EVIL 257 events. With the creation of the possibility of such a character the philosophy of optimism is justified, and the world in its essence shows itself to be that which we demand of it. There is, then, purely as a matter of experience, a part which evil plays in the attaining of the good, and a part which is necessary, apparently, in the ac- tually existing structure of the world and of man's nature. Let me return once more to this last limita- tion. The admission has been made that it is not impossible to imagine a world without intermixture of evil. And the only reply to this seemed to be that it is our business to try to understand reality as we find it, rather than engage in dreams of what might have been had reality been different. But now there is one thing further that may be said. The special sting of the admission, for religion, lies in the implication that our world was created by a being who might equally as well have made it quite other than it is. Indeed, if he is an all-powerful being, there is no limit to the possibilities which he had before him, and therefore it is more than a mere chance that evil might have been avoided; it is an apparent certainty. Accordingly we are met by the great historic problem of God's responsibility for evil. If God could have created the world with- out evil, how can we make this consistent with his perfect goodness? The answer which I should make to this particular difficulty lies in the conception that has already been 258 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD advanced. The difficulty seems to be due to the initial mistake of regarding God, in his separate exist- ence, as alone ultimately real, and the world as the mere indeterminate product of his arbitrary will. I have tried to argue that we as human selves are metaphysically just as ultimate as God. Reality is the whole system of selves. If we are conditioned by God's life, so too we condition it in turn. It is to the fact that our natures are what they are that the necessity of evil is due natures that are un- developed at the start, and that can only attain to wisdom and stability of character by a gradual process of growth. And our natures are not pro- duced by an arbitrary fiat; they are ultimate con- stituents of reality. There never was a time, then, when God might possibly have chosen a wholly different world but failed to do this. The world is, and the question of responsibility has no meaning in such a connection. Otherwise God might have been different from what he is ; for if he had chosen a different world, it could only have been because he was a different God. A God with a determinate nature can have no limitless number of possibilities open before him, of some of which he fails to take advantage. And since this is so, there is no neces- sary contradiction between God's goodness, and the presence of evil in the world. It is, once more, a question simply of accepting reality as it reveals it- self. And if we find that as a fact of experience evil is only a vanishing stage in a developing process, we THE PROBLEM OF EVIL 259 have the right to maintain that the world is in its essential nature good. This is, of course, in one sense of the word to deny the infinity of God. It denies infinity, that is, in the sense in which this is synonymous with an absolutely indeterminate range of possibilities. The possible lies within a definite circle, and ultimately is identical with the real. The real is determinate in its nature. But for this very reason we are not to conceive of God as setting certain other possi- bilities before his imagination and then realizing his impotence to attain these. That is what we are likely to have in mind when we think of determinate- ness of nature as somehow less excellent than an infinity of opportunities unrealized, but possible. But such an impotence we do not have to maintain. There is no limitation in being shut out from doing that which one has absolutely no desire to do or thought of doing. The only sort of absolute ex- perience which is worth while is one, not of an absence of determination and definiteness, but of a self-completeness and inner perfection which lacks no possibility of satisfaction. I have attempted to vindicate this for the conception of God. The possibilities which are unreal for his experience are absolutely unreal. There is no basis whatever for them in his nature, and therefore in reality. The ability so much as to conceive them implies a failure in the completeness of experience which is excluded by the nature of the conception, just as in human life 260 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD we indulge in day dreams and construct airy fabrics of what might possibly be, only as the business of everyday reality fails for some reason in its normal healthy power to absorb and satisfy us. THE PROBLEM OF IMMORTALITY THERE is, without doubt, at the present day a strong inclination in many quarters to dispute the importance of a belief in immortality both for the practical conduct of life and for our intellectual constructions about the nature of the world. I think that the religious feeling of mankind is truer here than the current tendencies. Instead of stand- ing on the outskirts of the philosopher's task as at best a work of supererogation, the question has, in my opinion, a distinct relation to and importance for general philosophical results. I shall therefore in this concluding chapter try to point out the connec- tion which the problem has with the conception of the world that has been already outlined in the pre- ceding pages. And as a means of approach it will be useful first to review briefly the general character of the histor- ical proofs for the belief. It lies outside my purpose to dwell here upon the specifically Christian proof from revelation, except indeed as this is capable of a philosophical statement. When Paul speaks of life and immortality as brought to light through the Gospel, in part I suppose he means that the Chris- tian revelation has been a revelation of the divine- 261 262 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD ness of human life, and that no one therefore to whom this has once come home can doubt that life is a permanent fact in God's universe. In so far this will enter into what I shall have to say later on. But certainly Paul also had in mind the historical fact of Christ's resurrection as the basis of the Chris- tian's hope. Of course in so far as the historical evidence seems to warrant the acceptance of the facts, it cannot fail to be highly important in influencing belief. It must, however, always labor under a cer- tain disadvantage which attaches to any particular fact of history as such. For there always remains x fte question whether after all our evidence is really conclusive; and from the nature of the case, since the supposed fact is now in the past and out from under our control, there is no possibility of bringing it to the test of fresh and personal experience. I shall exclude also another argument which is receiving a good deal of attention at the present day. This is the argument from spiritualism. Until comparatively a short time ago one might safely neglect this without apology, but now the tide, it would appear, has turned. The Society for Psychical Research has undoubtedly called atten- tion to a group of experiences which can hardly be dismissed off-hand any longer; and when we find men of high intellectual rank accepting the authen- ticity of facts that cannot be brought under a in the traditional sense natural explanation, it ought perhaps to give us pause. Nevertheless I can hardly THE PROBLEM OF IMMORTALITY 263 think it likely we are destined to get any solid foot- ing here, at any rate for a long time to come. Per- haps we may secure evidence that will help give added probability to a belief already entertained. But that we should be able to found a proof of im- mortality on such grounds is very seriously to be doubted. Two features of the situation in particu- lar interfere to prevent this. One of these is that the facts, if facts they be, have to be sifted out from the midst of an altogether stupefying and heart- rending mass of detected blunders and impositions of the grossest sort. No one pretends that any save the merest fraction of these phenomena are bot 1 genuine and significant; and unluckily the cases which have been exposed stand to outward appear- ance quite on a level with the supposedly genuine remnant. The same features for the most part accompany both. How, then, in any particular in- stance are we to avoid the lingering doubt whether after all, in spite of all our tests, this may not be just another of the cases of which we have met so many, cases which offered at first view unimpeach- able evidence, and which yet at some unforeseen point have broken down under examination. I do not mean to imply that for all we can at present say, a continued investigation may not result in leaving open the possibility that there is a saving remnant of spiritualistic phenomena that is genuine. It is conceivable that a certain number of cases will succeed in meeting the most rigid tests. But I do 264 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD think that the circumstances under which this is brought about, if it is brought about, will effectually prevent its ever serving as a satisfactory basis for a great religious and practical article of faith. It seems psychologically impossible that the mind should feel the certitude it demands under these conditions. When I know that so many similar facts have turned out to be the result of mistake or of fraud, and when I come more and more to find out how inconceivably honeycombed with illusion and self-contradiction human testimony is, how subtly and unavoidably error creeps into the apparently plainest matters of fact, it is inevitable that, after the most searching scrutiny has failed to discredit the few cases which are left, there should still for most of us remain a lurking doubt which renders impossible any whole- hearted credence. The bad company which they keep must necessarily affect the reputation of such facts, if not their character. And the further point is this : that even if the facts are granted, there still is a choice of explanations. The only admissible evidence in such cases must rest upon the communi- cation of objective information which it would have been impossible to obtain through natural channels. The mere seeing of visions is of course valueless, since they are so readily to be explained as hallu- cinations. But in the case of apparently super- natural knowledge there is still an hypothesis - telepathy, namely which is available. It is true that if all the supposed facts are admitted, the hypothesis THE PROBLEM OF IMMORTALITY 265 has to be strained a good deal to fit them. But after all, in a realm in which everything is surprising and goes beyond what sober people are accustomed to consider probable, a little added improbability is not perhaps fatal. And until the alternative ex- planation is excluded and it is difficult to see how this ever could come about immortality has no very secure ground. Leaving this class of considerations, therefore, I shall come to the more general philosophical ar- guments. And without pretending to go into any exact analysis, there are three aspects of the proof for immortality which have in a way a historical ground. The first is the purely metaphysical treat- ment which belongs specially to the Middle Ages, and to certain forms of rationalism which inherited some of the features of the Scholastic philosophy. Here the stress is upon the nature of the soul as a metaphysical fact or entity. The type of thought which this represents was broken down largely by the growth of science and scientific methods, and it does not at present play any large part in discussions of the subject. But now science, in addition to this indirect influence on the problem, has also been the means of emphasizing one aspect of it in particular. This came about through the increased attention which it directed toward the physical side of life. By pointing out in detail the way in which every phase of the conscious or soul life depends upon, or at least is intimately connected with, bodily processes of some 266 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD sort, it naturally seemed to strengthen the presump- tion that consciousness cannot exist at all without its bodily accompaniment. This in turn has called forth a special emphasis upon another set of consider- ations which in a general way may be called the moral argument; and this argument, though with many variations, may be regarded as the central one at the present time. I wish to take up these aspects of the question separately, passing over the first two somewhat lightly and dogmatically. What has been called the metaphysical argument goes back to the nature of the soul as a thing in itself. From the properties which belong to this soul sub- stance it is supposed that we can deduce something of its destiny. In particular its indivisibility has been thought to guarantee its integrity, since only that which has parts can be decomposed and de- stroyed. Perhaps it is enough to say that this con- ception of the soul as a substantial entity, indivisible and eternal, lying behind and separate from the phenomena of consciousness and persisting change- less through their eternal change, is a conception which modern philosophy has not so much disproved as discarded, because it has been discovered to be meaningless and useless. We need, it is true, to find a unity to the life of the self. But such a separable entity unites nothing, explains nothing. It is a mere abstraction, which has no content when we try to grasp it, and which consequently has ceased to play any large part in recent thought. THE PROBLEM OF IMMORTALITY 267 Has then the metaphysical argument no validity? From one point of view I should say absolutely none at all. In so far as it embodies the attractive, but essentially delusive, ideal of attaining a demon- strative certainty by means of a process of logical reasoning, it is and always is bound to be entirely futile. Nevertheless it has a motive back of it which is quite legitimate. It tries to fill the need of find- ing some permanent fact to which to attach the con- scious life, which shall not share the instability and ephemeralness of this life, or of the bodily structure which is its apparent foundation. Such a demand will have apparently to be met if immortality is to be established ; but it will be well to look for some other and less debatable way of doing this. And this leads to the materialistic argument whose refutation has usually occupied a considerable share of the energies of the defender of immortality. It must be premised that any advantage which is gained here by the upholder of the doctrine is purely nega- tive. At best it only shows that the continuance of the soul life after the death of the body involves no contradiction or impossibility, and this by itself furnishes, of course, no evidence whatever for the fact of continuance. But with this limitation, the answer to the materialistic assumption is plain. Indeed when the question is made clearly one of possi- bility, a sober science can hardly hesitate to admit its lack of any right to speak with authority. Science may say, and perhaps be perfectly right in saying, 268 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD that from the standpoint of the scientific experience she knows nothing of consciousness except in con- nection with certain organic structures. It is indeed an undeniable fact that there is a break in our lives which our direct knowledge does not serve to bridge. But what reason can be given in the nature of things why life might not be continued under different, though at present unknown, conditions? There is no greater likelihood a priori that a unitary stream of consciousness should be confined to one particular body than for the opposite hypothesis. The mere fact that conditions which attend life as we know it do not persevere beyond a certain point is therefore undecisive. There is no meaning to a merely gen- eral improbability in such a case, except on the not very likely assumption that our present knowledge is fairly exhaustive of the universe. The argument is therefore an argument from ignorance. Of course, once again, it is not shown that there is such a con- tinuance of life. But if we should have any reason at all for believing that there is, the fact of our ig- norance of its conditions furnishes no positive ground for refusing to give ear to this evidence. We should be constrained to this only in case we were to accept a certain crude form of materialistic theory the assumption that matter as we know it is the ultimate reality, and that consciousness has its wholly suffi- cient cause and explanation in the particular group of atoms whose combination forms our body. Such a materialism is at present discredited. As onposed, THE PROBLEM OF IMMORTALITY 269 on the one hand, to its carrying back reality to inde- pendent material particles, the unessential product of whose combination all higher facts of the con- scious life are, philosophy tends to lay stress on the reality of the whole as the supreme fact, by reference to which each minor fact has to be explained, and with which it stands inherently and vitally connected. As opposed, again, to the assignment of material qualities to this reality as its innermost structure, most modern thought is agreed either to find this nature in that which is akin to consciousness and to man, or else to hold that it is unknown to us, and that what we call mind and matter are both illusory appearances. But in either case the possibility of immortality is secured. It lies, not in an individual soul substance, but in the unitary world-ground on which all things alike, material processes as well as conscious, depend. That consciousness exists at all is enough to show that it is not an arbitrary product, but is somehow essentially related to reality. The only question is whether the nature of reality really calls for its continued existence; if so, it is wholly gratuitous for us to find difficulties about the possibility. At present consciousness exists in con- nection with one particular expression of reality which we call a body. But if the body is not an independent whole, and so is not the sole efficient agent in the production of consciousness, if the source of this is rather in some real sense reality at large, what is to hinder the relation of my consciousness to 270 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD reality from being such that it should still go on, with only its point of connection shifted ? There is the whole wide universe to furnish such a point of con- nection. Why should this particular relationship which now holds necessarily be the only possible one, so that its severance will annihilate one of the terms related. Certainly if we are agnostics and hold to an ultimate ignorance about things, our ignorance will prevent our pronouncing dogmatically against such a possibility. And if we accept a conscious world -ground God there will be still less reason to deny it. To the nature, then, of God, or of the world-whole, on whom our lives in some sort depend, we may look for the possibility of permanence which immortality requires, instead of to a hypothetical soul conceived as a separate and independent substance. For since God is still necessary to uphold the soul, we lose nothing by going back to him directly, and we avoid the difficulty that comes from interpolating a fact that is unthinkable. But this, once more, is a purely negative result. Suppose the possibility has been found ; are there any positive grounds for supposing that it is more than a possibility? Such evidence, if it is forthcoming, will have to be looked for, I think, in what in one form or another has been commonly known as the moral argument, and to this therefore -we may now turn. In the earlier discussions about immortality there was a disposition to make the question settle about the matter of rewards and punishments. Since men THE PROBLEM OF IMMORTALITY 271 do not get their deserts in this world, it is found nec- essary to postulate another in which to even matters up. This undoubtedly falls in with and appeals to a certain natural instinct in us. The plain man is apt to find a real force to the argument. But also there is no doubt that we are disposed to insist less upon this statement of it than we once were. It has the disadvantage that whereas it is intended to be the expression of an ethical need, it can too readily be turned in a way which leaves the appearance of superior ethical disinterestedness on the other side. Is it necessary, we are asked, that men should re- quire a bribe to do well? Is not that the worthier attitude which says: I will do right because it is right, and I will get a satisfaction from the doing which is higher than any extraneous reward could give? Is our love of goodness so flimsy that we should throw it all aside if we were convinced that certain future consequences were not to flow from it? Is not that a doing of good just for the sake of the reward? And if the good act is here and now the worthier and more satisfying act, why insist upon what would weaken if not destroy its moral character, and make it simply a matter of expediency ? So of evil. Evil loses here, and inevitably, the true satisfaction of life, just because it is evil. To insist that it should meet also with certain external con- sequences which sometimes fail in this world may not this be simply the spirit of personal vindictive- ness and revenge? 272 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD Undoubtedly there is an understanding of the argument to which this is a real answer. But its upholder will be apt to go farther and make some such reply as this in turn: When I maintain the necessity of a future evening-up process, I do not mean that there is no value to goodness if it does not bring with it material rewards of happiness. And yet for all that, to constitute the perfect bloom of virtue there is need of a triumphant belief in its correspondence with the heart of things, a convic- tion that righteousness rules the world, and that in following it I am putting myself in line with the deepest forces of the universe. Surely it is a short- sighted tendency which supposes, for example with Maeterlinck, that human morality can dissever itself permanently from the background of reality, and still retain its power in a universe which we are convinced is fundamentally unmoral. But how can this belief in the ultimateness of reality be main- tained, unless I can convince myself that the world is such a world that in it righteousness and well- being in the widest sense are finally identical? The inner testimony of my consciousness to the worth of virtue is of value when confirmed by an outer harmony in the world at large. But can this inner testimony prevail if it comes in conflict with the outer course of events? Will not the contradiction in- evitably affect our belief in virtue, or at any rate our joy in it ? For can virtue in the end stand justified our minds except as it does find that external con- THE PROBLEM OF IMMORTALITY 273 firmation for which immortality tries to find a place, and which will enable us to think of it as bound up in the innnermost constitution of the world? But now again the query may be raised : Granted that the ethical life must be vindicated in an objec- tive way, just what is it that the ethical demand requires? Does the validity of righteousness, that is, really stand or fall with the stability of the indi- vidual life? or may not that be irrelevant to the existence of a thoroughly ethical world ? Righteous- ness must conquer objectively if it is to be justified. But is it not enough that my act should help on the final victory, even if I do not live to see it and par- ticipate in its rewards ? That good does not triumph with any particular man, that I do not reap the fruits of my virtue or my unjust deeds, does not, it is said, mean that virtue is not a reality, provided there is a gradual achievement of the right in the larger course of the world. Is not this where we should look for our proof? The world is a good world, not because any individual's rewards are exactly proportioned to his merits, but because in the universe as a whole truth and righteousness are progressively realized, iniquity is inevitably doomed. In the light of this higher ideal the demand for a personal immortality appears mean and selfish. Such immortality is a matter of indifference. Let us put ourselves at the standpoint of the whole, and see it as a great process through which righteousness works itself out to a glorious issue. What matter T 274 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD it, from the height of this vantage ground, whether I live to see the triumph of the cause for which I have toiled, if I am persuaded that the forces of the uni- verse are on my side, and that my act is destined to have its place in the final victory of right ? Is not this the only immortality that is worthy the name an immortality of influence, purged of the gross- ness of individual longings and selfish desires? And so too of the evil deed. What greater punish- ment can it have than that it should stand eternally annulled and condemned, that it should be futile, worthless, impotent, and forever discredited in the economy of the universe? It is here, I think, that the critical point of the question lies. In order to state it more clearly, let me distinguish two separate aspects or steps of the argument. In the first place, it implies that there is something in life that makes it worth while, that gives it a value which is more than fleeting, and so leads us to justify this value by assigning to it a per- manent, an enduring reality. This is not to any great degree a thing that can be proved by argument. It comes from life, not from logic; and unless to any particular man life has brought a sense of its own possible worth, there is no basis for an argument that shall convince him. It is the vital contribution of Christianity to the problem that it has been the great instrument for bringing home to men this feel- ing of the divineness of life. But now it is not the this which is most characteristic of recent THE PROBLEM OF IMMORTALITY 275 discussions. On the contrary, there is a general dis- position to admit, and even to emphasize, the ethical ideal, and the attributes of worth which it involves. The main point at issue is the further question : Does the justification of this ethical worth require the permanence of the individual life, or is it satis- fied with the preservation and triumph of ethical values in the large in the race or in the universe ? Is it after all so clear that the ethical world is a real possibility apart from just that continued participa- tion in it of the connected individual life which the critic of immortality sets aside as an unessential detail ? And first there is a preliminary misunderstanding that may need to be removed. The injunction to turn away from the question of a future life as pos- sessing no real interest often gets a force which does not rightly belong to it on its merits, as a reaction against an exaggerated other-worldliness. It may be said, as it is said very commonly at the present day, that immortality has ceased to be a matter of real concern to men. What should occupy us is not the future life, but the present. Nothing will ever be any more real than the present now is. To empty it of value except as a preparation for the future is to place the end of living in something that never arrives. Now I have an entire sympathy with this in so far as it is merely a protest against the religious attitude which makes the future life somehow more real than the present, and which turns the interest 276 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD away from the present world and the present moment to centre it upon a heavenly existence. By all means let us live in the present, and recognize that eternity lies round about us. Nevertheless we should not make the obvious mistake of confounding such an admission with the implication that on this very present interest the future has no bearing. When in educational ideals, for example, the child's enjoy- ment of his immediate activity is sacrificed in favor of a preparation for duties which are not yet arisen, we are making a blunder. But it does not follow, therefore, that the child should live simply from moment to moment. In order to give consistency and weight to present life, it is necessary that more far-reaching interests should centre about it and be served by it. Ideally it is quite possible so to relate the future to the present as not to displace this, but rather to enhance its value. And just as the future, represented by our larger and more permanent ends in this life, may be made to deepen the meaning of the present, not destroy it, so it is conceivable that the belief in a life to come should be brought to bear upon our activities in this world, and be necessary to the full realization of their present possibilities. Making due allowance then for this relative truth, we come back again to the main question. Is a human life of value simply as it enters into and helps work out a process, or law, or scheme of de- velopment, which is impersonal, or at least uniper- sonal ? Or, on the contrary, does the essence of the THE PROBLEM OF IMMORTALITY 277 ethical world, and so of reality, lie in the relation- ships of persons, distinct individuals, who can find no meaning in terms of worth and value except as this personal element is emphasized? Let me give a suggestion of the answer which a defender of im- mortality might make to this question. We talk a great deal about progress and develop- ment, such an one might say; but do we ever try to realize what such a concept means, and what con- tent it could have, apart from personal relationships to individuals and the personal feelings which these call forth ? Are we not in danger of making a fetich of progress in a way that shall empty it of signifi- cance? In the philosopher whose gaze is so fixed upon the eternal Spirit realizing itself in the world that this realization of the whole seems the only im- portant thing; in the evolutionist for whom the individual is a mere incident in the life of the race; in the literary aestheticism which glorifies the Idea regardless of its personal setting ; in the imperialism which in its zeal for civilization can without com- punction trample under foot individuals and nations ; in the deification of the strong man, the Ubermensch, we have tendencies of which we may fairly ask whether they are not in danger of losing the very essence of the worth of life. We may grant that they emphasize certain very real sides of experience, and that there is a sentimentalism against which they represent a healthy reaction. But is not their em- phasis dangerously misplaced? Is not our modern 278 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD doctrine that God is progress likely to obscure the more inclusive truth that God is love? For love is a relationship which does not stop with those universal qualities of a man that make him simply an actor in the world history. It clings to the core of individuality itself, and will be satisfied with just this as a living and continuous person whose place no one else can wholly take. It is this human feeling, not the humanitarian, which gives value and validity to life and conduct. It is the spirit which does not make of men and women tools for working out a principle or law or impersonal right; it loves man because it loves men, and it never can make such a personal relationship to this and that man in partic- ular a secondary and unessential thing. Not that the contrary attitude is without its own emotional appeal. It may seem on the surface to have a cer- tain touch of grandeur and sublimity which thrills us for the moment. "Personality, individuality the ghosts of a dream in a dream. Life infinite only there is, and all that appears to be is but the thrilling of it, sun, moon, and stars, earth, sky, and sea, and mind and man, and space and time." But when we examine our rhetoric soberly and coolly, what content do we really find that justifies our emotion, beyond a certain aesthetic pleasure in the contemplation, itself not of the highest order because it is so entirely abstract and formless. When we try actually to realize concretely the nature of such a supposed value apart from personality, from human THE PROBLEM OF IMMORTALITY 279 relationships and fellowships, we find in it as little permanent power to satisfy us as we find in the Oriental civilization which represents the same ideal of a degradation of personality put into actual prac- tice. The Western type of the same attitude is more virile, no doubt. Nevertheless it is equally unsatis- fying to one who is not content with loose rhetoric and surface understanding, but who tries to pene- trate to the real content of the thing, and bring it home to himself in concrete and human terms. Such is the modern worship of force with its underlying materialism, of great movements, irresistible ten- dencies, and manifest destinies, so long as they ac- complish something, no matter whether the change approves itself or not to the human sense of worth and the human conscience. The novels of the late Mr. Norris afford a good example of this attitude in a crude but effective form, with their subordina- tion of the ethical, and their deification of the brute forces of nature as typified, for example, by the Wheat. No doubt this appeals to something primi- tive in us. But is the primitive and the savage finally to interpret human life ? And when again we bring to bear a really human interpretation, can what we are called upon crudely to admire and rest upon bear at all the test of rational criticism? There is some- thing childish in the tendency to suppose that mere change is admirable, no matter even if it leads to nothing, and it is none the less childish because the change happens to be on a vast scale. 280 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD This briefly, then, is the query on which an argu- ment may be based: First, can righteousness, or progress, or whatever it may be termed, have any real content save as it is grounded in the personal relationship which on the side of feeling is love? Apart from this, are we not resting on a survival of the old deification of abstractions ? Activity, strenu- ousness, combat, achievement these are good ; but will they not fail in the end if divorced from fellowship ? And, second, if this is so, can we accept the severance of the personal relationship in which the whole gist of the matter lies, and still be able to justify the worth of life to ourselves, in feeling or in calm reflection? The charge is made that the de- mand for immortality is a selfish demand, and that a true devotion would make us content to lose our- selves in the good of the whole or of the race. But this is not the deepest source of our demand, and it does not truly represent the force of the argument, unless love can be reduced to selfishness. That which raises the most passionate protest against the extinction of personality is not the wish that I may continue. It is the thought that he, my friend, with all his powers of mind and heart, should have come to be only to cease again to be ; that he should have passed forever beyond the possibility of that personal contact and union which is the core of life. Doubtless the question will come up once more: Does not humanity, the race, the universe, still afford a worthy field of endeavor even though the individual THE PROBLEM OF IMMORTALITY 281 man disappears ? I am not unaware of the danger of meeting life too timidly, and of being too ready to throw away what is still a substantial good be- cause we cannot get all that we should like. It is well to be brave in the face of whatever life may bring. But there is some risk, too, that courage may pass into hardness and callousness, and that is not so well. Are we sure that resignation here does not mean a loss too serious to accept? I have done all I can hope if I have pointed out the issue involved. Can the terms which stand for value to us avoid be- coming an abstraction except as they go back to the fact of personality? and can personality bear the weight of this responsibility without permanence? Do we try to find that permanence in humanity? But the race itself is mortal. The day will come when the world and all that it contains will pass away; and how can that which comes to an end be an eternal principle of justification? But even if the race were immortal, that would not meet the de- mands of love. It is not enough that an impersonal influence should continue, or that other friends should take the place of the one who is lost. It is here, if anywhere, that we shall find a value that will appeal to us as ultimate ; and if we get no solid foot- ing here, how can we hope to in those larger and abstracter terms humanity, and the progress of the whole? And how can that be ultimate which is ever being passed over from one embodiment to another ? Can love thus be cut loose from its 282 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD object ? The recognition of relativity and finiteness in love, as inherent in and necessary to it, is bound to destroy its divineness. To put our human re- lationships on the plane of the Epicurean friendship, something we are to utilize as a pleasant and im- portant episode of life, but be ready to put aside with quiet acquiescence when it has served its turn, are we not right in feeling this to be less than the final meaning? Is the great love, the love that goes beyond the prudent needs of effective workmanship, really a mistake, and should we be wiser if we were to sink ourselves in our work, in an impersonal activity or process of life, and look upon men and women as just the temporary phases which this world activity assumes? We are not always true to such an insight, no doubt. We allow selfishness to break the ties that have been closest, and time to obliterate the strongest feelings. But in a question such as this it should be, not our ordinary self, but our best self, that forms the basis of our judgment ; not what the average man practices, but what seems to be the goal of the highest and most truly human attainment. And do we not feel that this charge of inconstancy and forgetfulness in our human fel- lowships is a cause for shame, that it marks a failure to be what at our best we should like to be? And if this is true from the human side, it has an equal force from the divine. It is true that in God we should have what is eternal in existence, as opposed to the ephemeral existence that belongs to the human THE PROBLEM OF IMMORTALITY 283 race. And the need we have ethically of falling back on God shows how necessary to the justification of value permanence is. Do away wholly with any such eternal conservator of values, and how long could they retain any touch or quality of the divine ? But because God is eternal in existence he need not, for all that, have a value that we should recognize as eternal. If values do have their root in the relation- ships of persons, there not only is the difficulty in imagining how they could exist and be transferred when their very source is gone. In relation to God the same thing has another side. Could we really respect a God who found his felicity in an end which got its realization ultimately only in his own self- centred consciousness ; for whom love or fellowship meant merely a temporary or passing phase of his experience, whose object was called into existence only to be dismissed again from the scene ? We may be willing to give up our private claims in the per- manent good of existence, to be damned for the glory of God ; but would a God who claimed the sacrifice be worthy of it? Does not love in God imply a personal relationship which, in its particularity, is not an incident of his purposes, but fundamental in them? I have based the argument upon the demands of feeling. The suggestion has been that the funda- mental source of value, at any rate of social and religious value, is to be looked for in personality, as involving a relationship of individuals in self- 284 RELIGIOUS CONCEPTION OF THE WORLD conscious and meaningful cooperation ; and that this claims an eternal worth, not as tributary to an im- personal process, but as that which itself lends to the process validity. It is true that this demand that the world should be such as to meet the requirements of feeling is a postulate ; but so too is the claim that the world should be a rational world; and I have already tried to show that the one is as valid a pos- tulate as the other. Both ideals we accept simply because we never shall be satisfied so long as they are unattained. But now if the main contention of my whole argument is not mistaken, this same con- ception of personality is the one best fitted to stand in a purely intellectual formulation of reality as well. The coincidence of the two lines of argument may perhaps be held to give some added force to each. INDEX Absolute, the, 37 ff.; 166 f.; 176 ff.; 259 f. Activity, concept of, 187 S. Agnosticism, 37 ff.; 180 ff. Balfour, 105, 128. Berkeley, 125. Causation, 141 ff.; 167 ff. Conservation of Energy, 170. Creation, concept of, 164 f. ; 229 f. Design, argument from, 93 ff. Determinism, 207 ff. Emotion, 53 ff.; 63 ff. Evil, 198; 231 ff. Fatalism, 207; 221 f. Feeling, its relation to knowledge, 53 ff- Freedom, 198 ff. God, nature of, 162 ff.; 193 ff. Hume, 70; 141. Huxley, 44. Ideals, 57 ff.; 104 f.; 282. Imitation, 30. Immaterialism, 124 ff. Immortality, 261 ff. Innate ideas, 6. Interaction, 171. James, William, 64, 225. Knowledge, function of, 54 f.; 187 ff. Knowledge, representative theory of, 18 ff.; 132 f. Knowledge, transcendence of, 1 7 ff . ; 31 ff.; 51 f.; 162; 194. Law, conception of, 10 ff.; 117 f.; 130; 140 ff.; 173 ff. Materialism, 268 f. Natural selection, 94; 107 ff. Objective world, belief in, 17 ff.; 27 ff-; 56 f. Optimism, 233 ff.; 242 ff. Pantheism, 153 ff. Parallelism, 170 ff. Personality, 276 ff. Pessimism, 236 ff. Philosophy, method of, 50 ff.; 75. Philosophy, nature of, 74 f.; 78; 83- Pragmatism, 21 ff.; 35 f.; 199. Presuppositions, nature of, 8. Reason, nature of, 70 ff . ; 206 f. Religion, nature of, 79 ff. Religion and history, 84 ff. Relativity of knowledge, 38; 177 ff. Responsibility, 236 ff.; 257 ff. Scepticism, 41 ff. Schopenhauer, 237. Self, idea of, 161 f.; 186 ff. Selves, belief in other, 22 ff. ; 28 ff. Solipsism, 27. Soul, the, 266; 270. Spencer, 38; 177. Spinoza, 79; 115. Teleology, 93 ff.; 117; 146 ff.; 190 f. Theism, arguments for, 121 ff. Truth, nature of, 21; 35 ff. Truth, tests of, 45 ff.; 75 ff. 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