Full text of "The Journal of speculative philosophy"

THE JOURNAL

O F

SPECULATIVE PHILOSOPHY.

VOLUME XVII.

EDITED BY WM. T. HARRIS

NEW YORK:
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY.

ILONDON : Trtibner and Company.

1883.

Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1883, by

WILLIAM T. HARRIS,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.

CONTENTS.

PAiiB

Beautiful, The, H'. //. KimbaU, 94

Blow, Susan E. (Tr.), Goeschel on the Immortality of the Soul, 154, 246

Books Received, List of, 104 224 325

Burns-Gibson, J. (book notices), 446

Centennial of the Critique of Pure Reason, The, By Kuno Fischer (Tr.),

Benjamin Rand, 225
Champlin, Virginia, Notice of " La Revue Philosophique," 324

" " (Tr.), Nicolo D'Alfonso on Bertrando Spavcnta, 444

Channing, William Ellery, Selected Sentences in Prose and Verse, 96

" " " " • Selections from the " Gulshan Raz," 436

Christianity and Philosophy, Lectures on. Syllabus, .... By G. S. 3forris, 215

Christian Philosophy Quarterly, The (noticed), ". 101

Cognition, Sources and Faeuhies of, E. Trentowski (Tr.), . . /. Podbielski, 163, 356

Concord Summer School of Philosophy, 1883, Programme, 213

" " " " " Reports of the Lectures at, 317

Conversations on Philosophy by Jliss Handley (noticed), . By /. Bums-Gibson, 446

D' Alfonso, Nicolo, on Bertrando Spaventa (Tr.), V. Champlin, 444

Delff, n. K. H., On Faith and Knowledge (Tr.), A. R Krocfjer, 45

Dewey, John, Knowledge and the Relativity of Feeling, 56

Edwards, Jonathan, and Puritanic Philosophy, F. B. Sanborn, 402

Evolution, D. A. Wasson on, 318

Facts of Consciousness, Translated from J. G. Fichte, . . By ^. E. Krocger, 130, 263

Faith and Knowledge, by H. K. H. Delff (Tr.), A. E. Kroegcr, 45

Fichte's Facts of Consciousness (Tr.), A. E. Krocger, 130, 263

Fischer, Kuno, The Centennial of rhe Critique of Pure Reason (Tr.), . B. Band, 225

Garrigues, Gertrude, Goethe's " Das Miirchen," 383

German Philosophy, Recent, Some Aspects of, By G. H. Hoirison, 1

Germany, Philosophy in, its Present State and Prospects, Letter from C. L. Jliciie-

let to G. H. Howison, 222

Goeschel on the Immortality of the Soul (Tr.), Siisan E. Blow, I5i, 246

Goethe's " Das Miirchen," Gertrude Gan-igucs, 383

" GulsLan Raz," Selections from the, By W. E. Chanuing, 436

Halsted, G. B., The Modern Logic at Johns Honkins University, 210

Handley, Miss, Conversations on Philosoi)hy (noticed), . . By •/. Burns-Gibson, 446

Harris, Theodore (Tr.), Praver of Marv, Queen of Scots, 324

Harris, W. T., Philosophy in Outliae, " 296, 337

Hazard, R. G., Man a Creative First Cause, 283

" " Man's Freedom in his Moral Nature, 423

Homer's " Iliad," I). J. Snider, 180,367

Howison, G. H., Some Aspects of Recent German Philosophy, 1

" " Letter from Professor C. L. Michelet on the Present State and the

Prospects of German Philosophy, 222

Immortality of the Soul, Goeschel on the (Tr.), Susan E. Blow, 154, 246

iv Contents.

PAGE

James, Ilenrv, and Swedenborg, W. H. Kimhall, 113

Kantian Ethics and the Ethics of Evolution : A Ciitical Study, by J. Gould Schur-

man (noticed), By John Watson, 101

Kant's Critique of Pure Reason, The Centennial of, by Kuno Fischer (Tr.),

B. Rand, 225

Kimball, W. H., The Beautiful, 94

" " On Swedenborg and Henry James, 113

Knowledge and the Relativity of Feeling ". John Dewey, 56

Kroeger, A. E. (Tr.), H. K. H. Delff's Faith and Knowledge, 45

" " (Tr.), Fichte's Facts of Consciousness, • • • 130, 263

McCosh, James, Programme of a Philosophic Series, 220

Man a Creative First Cause, R- G- Hazard, 283

Man's Freedom in his Moral Nature, R. G. Hazard, 423

Mary, Queen of Scots, Prayer of (Tr.), Theodore Harris, 324

Michelet, C. L., Present State and Prospects of Philosophy in Germany, Letter to

G. H. Howison, 222

Mivart, St. George, Nature and Thought (noticed), . . . .By J. Rums-Gibson, 446

Modern Logic, The, at Johns Hopkins University, .... By G. R. Halsfed, 210

Morris, G. S., Lectures on Philosophy and Christianity, Syllabus, 215

Nature and Thought, by St. George Mivart (noticed), . . By /. Rnrns- Gibson, 446

Object and Reflection, " Richard Randolph, 90

Objects and their Interaction, James Ward, 169

Peabody, Elizabeth Palmer, Primeval Man, 10

Philosophic Series by James McCosh, Programme of, 220

Pliilosophv in Outline, W. T. Harris, 296, 33*7

Podbielski, I. (Tr.), Trentowski on the Sources of Knowledge, ..... 163, 856

Political Education, Fragment of, by George Whale (noticed). By /. Burns-Gibson, 446

Primeval JIan, Elizabeth Palmer Peabody, 70

Property, on its Nature and its Devolution, J. G. Woerner, 141

Puritanic Philosophy and Jonathan Edwards, F. R. Sanborn, 402

Rand, Benjamin (Tr.), Kuno Fischer on the Centennial of the Critique of Pure

Reason, 225

Randolph, Richard, Object and Reflection, 90

Reports of Lectures at the Concord School, _ 317

"Revue Philosophique de la France et de I'Etranger" (noticed), volumes siii and

xiv, By Virginia Champlin, 324

Sanborn, F. B., Jonathan Edwards and Puritanic Philosophy, 402

Schopenhauer and Von Hartmann, Translations from, 323

Schurman, J, Gould, Kantian Ethics and Ethics of Evolution (noticed),

By John Watson, 101

Sentences in Prose and Verse, Selected by W. E. Channinq, 96

Snider, D. J., Homer's " Iliad," 180, 367

Spaventa, Bertrando, by Nicolo D'Alfonso (Tr.), .... Virginia Champhn, 444

Summer School of Philosophy at Concord, Programme for 1883, ' 213

Swedenborg and Henry James, W. H. Kimball, 113

Trentowski, E., on the Sources and Faculties of Cognition (Tr.),

/. Podbielski, 163, 356

Triibner's Translations from Schopenhauer and Von Hartmann, 323

Ward, James, Objects and their Interaction, 169

Wasson, D. A., on Evolution, 318

Watson, John, Notice of J. G. Schurman's Kantian Ethics, etc., 101

Whale, George, Fragment of Political Education (noticed), . By J. Burns- Gibsoti, 446

Woerner, J. G., On the Nature of Property and its Devolution, 141

THE JOURNAL

SPECULATIVE PHILOSOPHY

Vol. XYII.] January, 1883. [No. 1.

SOME ASPECTS OF KECENT GEKMAN PHILOSOPHY/

BY G. H. HOWISON.

In another publication ° I have endeavored to present the above-
named topic in its general bearings, showing the situation to be
one of hesitancy and transition, with a remarkable tendency to-
wards a high and even exaggerated estimation of the empirical
methods that distinguish the philosophic school historic in Eng-
land, the rallying-cry of " Back to Kant ! " having been succeeded
by a more adventurous one of '" Beyond Kant ! " and this " beyond,"
mainly under the dominating pressure of the current interest in
the theories of evolution and natural selection, being construed as
lying in the region of that empiricism of which these theories are
the boasted victorious result. In the present article we come to
the details and the personnel of the more prevalent and typical
views. It will be of advantage to consider these under two lead-
ing points of view : first, as operating in German society at large ;
and, secondly, in the phases confined to the universities.

' In substance, a lecture given at the Concord School of Philosophy, July 19, 1882.
"^ See the report of Professor Howison's remarks, in " The Concord Lectures." Cam-
bridge : Moses King, 1883.

XVII— 1

2 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

PHILOSOPHY IN GERMAN SOCIETY GENERALLY.

In the total stream of present German thought tliere are dis-
cernible three main currents — the idealistic, the materialistic, and
the agnostic, or "critical," as its adherents prefer to name it.
This division, however, is not distinctive of the present period,
being merely the continuation of a world-old divergence in doc-
trine. But it is distinctive of the present situation, that, as already
indicated, these several views are now all defended from stand-
points more or less empirical. In the case of materialism, to be
sure, this is natural and in no wise nnexpected ; bnt the occurrence
of it in the case of idealism and of agnosticism, after Kant's day
and in his own land, and among thinkers long given to the study
of his works, is a genuine surprise. That the very principles of
the " Critique of Pure Reason," the historic stronghold of i\\e a pri-
ori^ should suffer the complete transformation of being made to
support empiricism, is a performance truly astonishing. Yet it
has been managed, and constitutes the distinguishing feat of the
so-called Neo-Kantians.

Each of these three main movements has a leading representa-
tive. There are thus three men who challenge our attention, as
in their several ways typical of the dominant intellectual interests
of their day — Eduard von Hartmann, Eugen Diihring, and Fried-
rich Albert Lange. The first stands for such idealism as is now
in vogue, derived in a long line of degeneration from Hegel,
through such self-styled adherents as Strauss and Arnold Ruge,
Bruno Baur and Feuerbach, and from Kant through the distort-
ing medium of Schopenhauer ; the second represents materialism,
with the singular trait of blending with tlie leoitimate line of its
empirical defences certain remarkable elements of a transcendental
logic ; the third represents agnosticism, with the additional and
peculiar interest of being the ^^eo-Kantian j9ar excellence.

llartniann was born in Berlin, in 1842, the son of a general in
the Prussian army, in which he held a commission himself till
disease that left him a permanent cripple turned him aside into the
career of letters. Duhring, also born in Berlin, in 1833, began
his career in the Prussian department^of justice, but was ere long
comi)elled to abandon this, through disease that deprived him of
])is sight. In spite of his blindness, however, he has kept up the

Some Aspects of Recent German Philosophy. 3

inost copious production and pnblication.' But, in contrast to
Hartmann, who leads the quiet life of a man of letters well to do,
lie has tasted no little of the bitterness of the human lot. For
many years he won some bread and much reputation as a^^rZ-ya^-
docent at the University of Berlin ; but, in 1877, he was dismissed
from this office on account of his persistent and lutter attacks on
some of the scientific and philosophical performances of certain of
his colleagues, particularly Helmholtz ; and since then he has
picked np a precarious subsistence in private life. Lange, born
near Solingen, in 1828, made his university course chiefly at Bonn,
where his principal interest seenied to be in philology and peda-
gogics, and then passed some years in practical life, partly as
bookseller, partly as secretary of the Duisburg Chamber of Com-
merce. Later, he was made professor of philosophy at Zurich,
where, in his case too, disease left its lasting marks in the effects
of a surgical operation that nearly cost him his life. In 1872 he
was called from Zurich to Marburg, but died there in 1875, after
prolonged sufferings, in the bloom of his intellectual powers, to
the unceasing regret of that large body of his younger countrymen
who were beginning to see in him a philosophic force of far-reach-
ing effect.

Though the three men were so considerably separated in years,
they began to act upon the public almost simultaneously. Lange's
" History of Materialism," so noted in its later form, first ap])eared
in 1865 ; Diihring's first important work, the " Natural Dialectic,"
was published the same year ; while Hartmann's " Philosophy of
the Unconscious" came first from the press in 1868. The main
lines of their several theories we are now to trace, and endeavor
to value.

In opening a study of Hartmann and his large circle of readers,
we come at once upon the sphere of an influence the vastness of
whose reach in the present " Enlightened Public " of Germany it
is impossible to overlook ; I refer, of course, to Schopenhauer.
Hartmann is generally and justly recognized as the mental heir of
Schopenhauer, in direct succession. His so-called system is, how-

' His works already comprise no less than twenty octavo volumes, in the various de-
partments of metaphysics, economics, sociology, mathematics, and criticism.

4 The Journal of Speculatvve Philosophy.

ever, far inferior in intellectual quality to that of his predecessor.
He differs from Schopenhauer in giving to the empirical a great
predominance over the a priori method,' and in his doctrine con-
cerning the nature of the absolute. The former fact expresses his
deference to the "stupendous achievements" of recent science;
the latter, his ambition to frame a system that should blend in a
single higher unity whatever of preceding theory he knew — Scho-
penhauer's pessimism and sundry idealistic fragments, no doubt
also first suggested by Schopenhauer, but in detail borrowed largely
from Schelling and the " left wing " distorters and mutilators of
Hegel.

Schopenhauer, seizing upon Kant's doctrine of the ex mente
origin of nature, and the consequently phenomenal character of
the world, asked the question that cannot but rise upon Kant's
results — What, then, is this " Thing-in-itself," assumed as the
source of the sensations that our a priori reason co-ordinates into
a universe ? He felt the force of Kant's arguments for the limi-
tation of knowledge to the realm of the subject's own experiences
— of the contradictions into which reason was apparently shown to
fall when attempting to apply its categories to a Thing-in-itself
supposed to lie beyond that realm. But he also felt the necessity
of the Thing-in-itself, of an absolute, in order to the relativity that,
according to Kant, was an essential feature of knowledge ; and
seeing, too, the chasm that separated Kant's doctrine of the will
from his view of the intellect, he proposed to remedy both defects
of the Kantian theory at once by the doctrine that reason is only
theoretical, and the will not phenomenal but noumenal : in short,
that the absolute is Will — a darkling, dumb outstriving, in itself
unconscious, whose impulsions, by a perpetual thwarting from
some mysterious Check, give rise to what we call consciousness.
The whole of being was thus reduced to terms of inner or sub-
jective life. There was the dark undertow of the ever-heaving
Desire, and, woven over it, the flashing image-world of Perception :
the universe was Will and Kepresentation. Of this Will we knew
nothing, save that it was insatiable ; the forms of consciousness
were not its expression, but its repression — its negation. Ever the

' Tlic reader will easily recall his significant motto, so taking in these times : " 8pem-
lative raiu'/s by the inductive method of the natural sciences.'"

Some Asj?ects of Tteoent German Philosophy. 5

liiglier these rose in the ascendin_g evolution of nature, in reaction
against its wilder and wilder throbbings, ever the more bitterly
must their necessary finitude thwart the infiuit}^ of its blind de-
sire. Universal life was thus, from its own conditions and essence,
foredoomed to misery : its core was anguish, its outlook was de-
-spair. And all the facts of existence, from wheresoever taken in
the ascending levels of consciousness, confirmed but too darkly
this haggard prophecy of a priori thought: everywhere the over-
plus of pain, every wliere illusion dispelled in disappointment.
There was, and could be, but one avenue of escape — death and
oblivion. On this fact rose the whole structure of ethics ; the
" whole duty of man " was simply this : Suppress the will to live.
All moral feeling was summed up in pity, and all moral action in
ascetic living, that, the tone of life being thus perpetually lowered,
the will might slowly sink into quiescence, and life itself at last
fade out into the repose and silence of annihilation.

Such was the philosophy (which, if at bottoin theoretically hol-
low, has still on its surface a certain tragic fascination) that stimu-
lated Hartmann to attempt a composition of like tone on the an-
cient theme of Man. The philosophic problem, let it be noted in
passing, takes for its leading question, in the minds of Schopen-
hauer and Hartmann, a phase of Kant's " What may I hope for ? "
The all-dominating concern for them is, What is life all worth?
They are both possessed with a profound sense of the misery of
existence.; but while, under Schopenhauer's treatment, the pessi-
mistic strain seems to sound forth only at the close, and to issue
from Lionditions that originally bear solely on the origin of experi-
ence, there can hardly be any doubt that with Hartmann the pes-
simism was first, and the theory of the Unconscious an after-
thought to explain it. His problem has the look of being this:
Given misery as the sum of existence, what must be presupposed
in order to account for it ?

The method and the contents of his solution both show what a
weight empirical evidence has with him in contrast with dialect-
ical. He professes a certain allegiance to the latter, and he makes
frequent resort also to a priori deduction of the most antiquated
sort ; but his general drift to fact, induction, and analogy is the
patent and distinguishing feature of his book. He seizes upon
;a striking but occult class of facts in our psychological history, as

6 The^ Jourrbol of Speeulative Philosophy.

containing the explanation of his problem, and, indeed, of life-
itself. There is given in our very experience, he says, the mani-
fest presence of an unconscious agency. He refers, in this, to the
class of experiences nowadays commonly grouped under the term
"reflex action" — facts of somnambulism, trance, clairvoyance,
and instinctive knowledge ; all those " unconscious modifications,"'
in short, the emphasizing of which formed such a memorable dis-
sonance in the thinking of Sir William Hamilton. The Uncon-
scious is actually here toith us, Hartmann holds; there is a some-
thing beneath our consciousness that performs for us, even when
consciousness is suspended, all that is most characteristic of life,
and that, too, with a swift and infallible surety and precision ;
what less, then, can we do than accept this Unconscious as the
one and absolute reality ? We accept ; and so come by the Phi-
losophy of the Unconscious.

Here, however, Hartmann is confronted by the warning of
Kant, which, on grounds of a critical determination of the nature
and limits of reason, forbids him to undertake the discussion of
an object thus removed from possible experience. This warning,
then, must first of all be silenced. Hartmann consequently ad-
dresses himself to the refutation of the Kantian thesis that knowl-
edge is only of the phenomenal. Here he leaves his favorite basis
of facts, and resorts necessarilj' to hypotheses purely a priori.
He proceeds by showing the self-contradiction, as by Kant's own
terms, of a material Thing-in-itself — a supposed background hid,
as it were, hehiiid the vision-world of experience, this phenome-
non, this apparition, rising thus between the thing and the mind ;
and then proposes, as the remedy, the bringing of this absolute
within the film of the apparition, and, so to speak, between it and
the mind. In short, he makes his Unconscious, as the absolute,
the common source of two parallel streams of appearance — the
one objective, the sensible world itself; the other subjective, the
stream of our conscious perceptions of the world.' These two
streams, as both flowing from the one Unconscious, under identi-
cally corresponding conditions, are in incessant counterpart. Thus,
knowledge, though not a copy of natural objects, is an exact coun-
ter-image to them, engendered from a common source. Con-

' A reminiscence, here, of Spinoza.

Some Aspects of Recent German Philosophy. 7

sciousness and nature are both pure show (Schein) ; the world is
an " objective apparition " {ein objective?' /Schein), and perception
is a duplicate "subjective apparition" (ein suhjectiver Schein),
and both are exhaled mist-like from the depths of the Uncon-
scious. Existence is thus doubled throughout ; space, time, and
the causal nexus are duplicated too, as well as the units they con-
tain or connect.

The Kantian doctrine — that space, time, and causation are
merely subjective — beinii^ considered thus disposed of, its corol-
lary of the empirical limitation of knowledge likewise falls away,
and Hartmann may proceed, he thinks, with his metaphysical pro-
gramme. First, however, the method of philosophy must be more
precisely accentuated. How can knowledge of the absolute, which
lies (as the Unconscious) wholly beyond our consciousness, ever
arise? By virtue of two facts, replies Hartmann: our "mystic
sense of union with the Unconscious," and that uniforniity of nat-
ure which forms the basis of induction. The organon of philoso-
phy has thus two factors — Mystic and Induction. From the for-
mer come all the clews of knowledge, the mysterious "sugges-
tions" of the Unconscious itself; from the latter, the verification
of these, as followed out in the complicated system of experience.
It is by the latter alone that philosophy distinguishes itself from
religion : for both flow alike from the mystic of the " suggestions,"
while religion retains in the form of myth those mysterious whis-
perings which philosophy, following the self-revelation of nature
in induction, lays bare in their clear and literal truth.

In the light of this method, now, the Unconscious so far reveals
its real nature that we know it is something infallibly and infinitely
intelligent. Strictly, it is not the C^wconscious, but rather the Snh-
conscious, the Unbeknown {das Unlewusste).' In its infallible infi-
nite-swiftness of perception, however, as experience testifies of it,
there is a transcendent type of the flashing inspirations of genius.
It is thus not ^^//'-conscious ; its intelligence is clairvoyant, and
has no "large discourse of reason," that " sees the end in the
beginning." But, as intelligent energy, it has the two constitu-
ents that we find present in all intelligent activity within experi-
ence — will and representation. And here is the point at which

1 "Zekle crep' up quite unbeknown. '"—Low^zll : The Courtin\

8 The Journal of Sjpeculative Philosophy.

to correct and complete Scliopenhauer's doctrine of the absolute.
Not will is the absolute; for will as well as representation is part
of conscious experience; will is itself phenomenal. Rather are
will and representation the two co-ordinate primal manifesta-
tions of the one Unconscious. Here, too, is the truth of the
famous Neutrum — the something neither subject nor object — that
Schelling set up for the absolute ; and no longer, thinks Hart-
mann, the target for a Hegel's "the absolute, popping up as if
shot from a pistol," since it is now construed in terms vouched for
by actual experience. Moreover, the conception is here found
that will embosom the vast system of Hegel himself: the all-em-
bracing "Logical Idea" {das logische Idee) HWi, as a mere con-
stituent into the vaster being of the Unconscious ; for what is the
Unconscious, as revealed in experience, but that which works by
the incessant interplay of representation and will? And just as
will in its essence is mere blind struggle, so is representation in its
essence nothing other than luminous idea — the all-embracing log-
ical bond that grasps the vague of sensation into distinct terms,
and these terms again into systems, and these systems at last into
a single organic unitv of thought.' The Unconscious, then, is
primordially will and idea ; and from the necessary interplay of
these arose the twofold world of finitude, pouring forth from the
Unconscious in the counterpart streams of object and subject, of
sensible world and conscious perception.

Hartmann is now at length well ashore on the familiar coasts of
Schopenhauerland. This world-child of clear-eyed virgin Idea
and darkling brutal Will is no product of far-sighted love, en-
dowed with an exhaustless future of joy: it is the oftspring of
chance, and its future carries in its very core the germs of ever-
expanding misery. This gloomy theme Hartmann pursues over
all tlie provinces of experience, seeking to prove that suffering
everywhere outbalances happiness, that " he that increaseth knowl-
edge increaseth sorrow," the pitch of anguish rising ever higher
and higher as nature ascends in the scale of consciousness, and
eppeeially as man enlarges and quickens that intelligence whose
chief result must, from the nature of the case, be the keener ap-
prehension of the deceitfulness of life. Nor, continues Hartmann,

Note the one-sided and superficial construction here put upon Hegel's theory.

Some Aspects of Recent German Philosophy. 9

let any one hope to evade this conchision by theories of possible
compensation. Men, to be sure, usually live in one or another of
three stages of illusion in regard to this essential misery of life:
they either think that, even in this world, the sum of joy so far
exceeds the sum of sorrow as to make existence here essentially
good ; or, if sobered out of this by inexorable experience, they take
refuge in the hereafter, in the prospect of an endless opportunity
beyond the grave — a refuge of lies, since the Unconscious is the
sole subject of conscious life, there is no individual self, death is
simply subsidence into the absolute vagueness, and immortality is
therefore a delusion ; or, finally, surrendering both of these dreanis,
they resort to the future, and indulge in the illusion of hope — the
world can yet be made the abode of happiness, and let us make it
so. But, admonishes Hartmann, all these fancies ignore the con-
tradiction that lies in the very heart of existence; there is but one
plain moral in the drama of experience, and that is the utter
worthlessness of life. Ethics consequently sums itself up in the
single precept, Make an end of it! The will being in its essence
ii wild unrest, both metaphysics and experience teach that the
<mly way of escape from the misery inherent in tiie nature of life
la to bring the will to quiescence ; in short, to blot it out of being.
Our sole intelligent desire, won in the bitter school of experience,
is the longing for release from struggling, the wish to be delivered
from this delusive Maya of consciousness and to pass into motion-
less Nirwana. Hasten, then, the day when the pitch of misery
shall have risen to the frenzy of despair, and mankind in united
delirium shall execute a universal auto da fe, and, by final self-
immolation, end the tragedy of existence forever.

Nevertheless, while this is the sum of its theory, ethics may
have the important practical question to settle. How shall we
make an end of thino-s the surest and soonest? There is here iu-
deed no duty ^ there is no such thing as duty: there is simply a
possible satisfaction of the desire for release from misery ; but to
this end there may be an alternative of means. We may each
promote the end by a negative or by a positive agency. By fol-
lowing the traditional standards of virtue, we may advance society
in order, peace, prosperity, and apparent welfare, the real out-
come of which, however, is but the profounder despair ; or we
may, by passion, fraud, and violence, heighten the rising flood of

10 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

misery directly. Which each will do is matter of temperament
and circumstance. Pessimism thus does nothing actively to pro-
mote wliat traditional ethics would brand as immorality ; it merely
leaves the so-called morality or immorality to be dealt witli by the
fate inherent in existence. The interaction of both is the force
that drives the universe assuredly to its desired dissolution.

Moreover, the negative side of pessimist ethics gives rise to
problems of history, of politics, of religion ; for one theory of
these matters, put in practice, may promote the final catastrophe
more surely and swiftly than another. Thus, pessimism has its
philosophy of history, in which history appears as the evolution
of the three stages of illusion mentioned above. The great scene
of the first stage was the pagan world, typical in which was the
Hellenic joj^ in sensuous life, and the Roman glory in conquest and
organization. That of the second is Christendom, so far as it is
untouched by decay of its essential dogma. That of the third is
the modern world of "enlightenment," of "advanced" thinking,
of political and economic reorganization in the interest of "the
good time coming." Following all is the surely predestined dis-
illusion that is to lead to the final dissolution. Pessimism has,
too, its philosophy of politics. Its ideal polity is a "strong gov-
ernment," based on the theory of socialism and administered in
its interest to the remotest detail. Pessimism has, finally, its
philosophy of religion, according to which religion is the conse-
cration in myth and mystery of the meaning that philosophy puts
rationally. Religion, therefore, undergoes an evolution side by
side with the development of philosophy. Accordingly, pessimism
sees all religions arrayed in two successive groups — the religions
of illusion and the religion of disillusion. The former break up
again in accordance with the "three stages." Paganism is the
religion of the first stage ; Christianity, untainted by rationalism,,
that of the second ; " free religion," " liberal Christianity," the
"positive religion," "ethical culture," the "church of humanity"
— all the manifold experiments at making a "religion" wlujse in-
terest is to be centred in this world alone — constitute that of the
third. Over against all these stands Hartmann's "religion of the
future," whose priests are to celebrate the doctrine, solemnize the
rites, and inspire the devotees of the great Nirwana— the eternal
silence and blank.

Some Aspects of Recent German Philosophy. 11

These are the main lines of the theory that engages the adher-
ence of that throng of biases sentimentalists who make u]) the body
of Hartmann's admirers. In contrast with the Germany that re-
sponded to the sober and invigorating views of a Kant, a Fichte,
or a Hegel, these people are a curious and disheartening study.
Apart from the revolt that minds of any real moral vigor must
feel at such results, the want of intellectual fibre betrayed in the
acceptance of this mesh of contradictions is a telling evidence of
decline in theoretical tone among the " cultivated classes." Limp
as this " system " hangs, with its preposterous attempt to construe
the absolute by mere pictorial thinking, by adjustments of com-
ponents set side by side, by a temporal antecedence to the world
of nature, in short, by means of categories strictly mechanical,
flung on the screen of space and time — to say nothing of its bald
ignoring of the chasm between consciousness and the Unconscious,
of its absolute at once unconscious and conscious, of its deduction
of the reality of knowledge from the assumed issuance of duj^li-
cate worlds from the Unconscious, and its then using this realit}'
of knowledge to establish this very issuance — flimsy as all this is,
there seems to be a sufllcient multitude to whom it gives a satis-
faction, and who are even willing to do battle, at least on fleld of
paper and under fire of ink, for the high privilege of a general
annihilation in the distant future. It is true, however, and fortu-
nate for Germany, as indeed for the world, that this class of minds
forms only a portion of the public ; that authority gees by weight
and not by numbers ; and that Germans of the higher and more
thorough order of culture have already discerned the bubble, and
have pricked it without pity. It would be unjust, however, to
take leave of Hartmann and Schopenhauer without emphatically
acknowledging the service they have rendered by their complete
unveiling of the pessimism necessarily inherent in every theory
that makes the absolute impersonal.

When we turn now to DiiHRiNG, we find ourselves suddenly in
the opposite extreme of the emotional climate. Diihring is ma-
terialist, but he is optimist still more. Indeed, it seems not un-
likely that he is optimist before he is materialist, just as Hartmann-
is pessimist first and expounder of the Unconscious afterwards. In
taking him as the representative of materialism, I have purposely

12 The Journal of tipeculative Philosophy.

passed by names far more widely known — those of Moleschott,
Biichner, and Carl Vogt, for instance — both because these are all
men of popular rather than of severe methods, having far less
weight in tlie scientific world than he, and because he is a man of
iar more scope, of really great and thorough attainments, of posi-
tive originality, and of a certain delicacy of intellectual perception
ess^ential to a great thinker. ' Haeckel, who, by his extravagant
ardor in advocating atheistic evolution, his vast knowledge of
biological details, and his high repute among his associates in
science, fills so large a place in the minds of readers as a repre-
sentative of materialism, must also here give way to Diihring, on
the ground of not concerning himself seriously with the philo-
sophic foundations of the theory, but only with such of its phe-
nomenal details as belong more especially to organic existence.

Diihring names his system the Philosophy of the Actual. This
title sounds almost like a direct challenge to Hartmann, as much
as to say, " No mystical subconscious or incognizable Background
here ! " And to have this really so is Diihring's first and last
endeavor. The absolute for him is just this world of sense, taken
literally as we find it : briefly and frankly, matter. As we perceive
and think it, so it is — extended, figured, resistant, moving; a
total of separate units collected into a figured whole and into a
uniformity of processes by mechanical causation : in short, a varia-
ble constant. This conception of an indissoluble polar union be-
tween Permanence and Change is, according to Diihring, the vital
nerve of the Actual, and the key to its entire philosophy.^ But
this polar coherence, he thinks, is only possible by the Actual's
consisting of certain primitive elements, definite in size, figure,
and number, subject to definite laws of combination and change of
combination. The permanent in the Actual is thus (1) Atoms,

' A writer more correctly to be compared with Diiliring is Czolbe, of Konigsberg, author
of a naturalistic theory expounded in his " Limits of Human Knowledge on the Basis ot
the Mechanical Principle," who died in 1873. But his views did not, like Diihring's, de-
velop themselves into a comprehensive philosophy, applied to all the provinces of life.
He belonged, too, rather to the previous generation of thinkers than to this, and was
known there as an opponent of Lotze. The latter I have likewise passed by later on,
in the agnostic-idealist reference, in spite of his acknowledged bearing on the position
•of Lange, mainly for reasons similar to those that led me to disregard Czolbe.

^ In this he undoubtedly presents a one-sided reflection from Hegel, with whom
Identity and Difference are the elementary dynamic "moments" of the absolute Idea.

/6'ome Aspects of Recent German Philosophy. 113

(2) Types, or the primitive Kinds of the atoms, the orio;in of species
in nature, and (3) Laws, determining the possible combinations of
the types and the order of succession in these combinations. The
variable, on the other baud, is the series of changing combinations
as they actually occur ; these amount simply to a change in tlie
form of the Actual, in its parts and in its whole. Tbe evolution
of this form moves towards a certain result, which, as necessarily
evolved from the primitive conditions and therefore involved in
them, may be regarded, though only in the sense of a mechanical
destination, as the Final Purpose of the World. The Actual, then,
taken in its entire career and being, presents the form of a self-
completing system of relations. In other words, there is a Logic
of Nature, inherent in the world itself. To' reproduce this logic
in the form of our knowledge is the aim and sum of science ; to
reproduce it not only so, but also in disposition and life, is the
sum of philosophy. Philosophy being thus the aim and the dis-
tilled result of all the sciences, its method and organon must be
identical with theirs. The method is hypothesis, verified by ex-
perimental induction and criticised by thought. The organon is
the imagination checked by the understanding, and the under-
standing checked by dialectic : the former gives us the requisite
hypotheses; the latter tests and settles their rival claims, the dia-
lectic purging it from the illusory contradictions into which it
naturally runs when facing the problems of ultimate reality.
These problems all concern the notion of infinity, either in the
form of the infinitely great or the infinitely small ; and the con-
tradictions, seemingly unavoidable, to which they give rise, are in
truth, says Diihring, mere illusions, springing from the lack of a
First Principle that has genuine reality. These contradictions,
he continues, formed the basis of Kant's boasted dialectic, by
which he is thought to have exposed the illusion hiding in our
very facidties : he would have it that they issue from the inmost
nature of the understanding when it presumes to grapi)le with
things as they are ; but their appearance in the form of his famous
"Antinomies" was in fact owing to his imperfect conception of
the origin of knowledge, and his consequent falsification of nature
into a mere phenomenon. With this assertion, Diihring confronts
Kant's standing challenge, " How can you make out that percep-
tions and thoughts are true of the Real, when from the nature of

14 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

the case they must be products of our human organization, and
therefore shut in to the perpetual contemphition of — themselves?"
By searching in the right place, he answers in effect, and finding
that '■^common rooV of sense and understanding of which you
yourself, Kant, have more than rarely spoken, but the investiga-
tion of which you have found it so much easier to evade. Wliat
sort of " criticism of reason" is it that stops with thrusting expe-
rience into the limbo of an abstraction called the a py^iori^ and
never asking what the Prius thus implied must be? Man brings
his perceptive and thinking organization into the world with him,
doubtless ; but from whence ? Whence indeed, if not from the
bosom of Nature ? Let us but once think the Actual as the Ac-
tual — as a continuous whole, unfolding towards its Final Purpose —
with man and his conscious organism veritably in it, and the
reality of knowledge becomes intelligible enough. For con-
sciousness is then no longer an imprinted copy of things, as the
truth-cancelling and unthinkable theory of dualism makes it, but
becomes instead a new setting of them, pushed forth from the
same original stock ; man thus inherits the contents and the logi-
cal system of nature by direct transmission, and consciousness,
while remaining self-converse, becomes self -converse in which the
p>roGess of the world is re-enacted. * And we reach in this way not
only the reality of knowledge, but the ground for the occurrence
of contradictions in it, and the principle of a dialectic that will
solve them. This Natural Dialectic — proceeds Diihring, in his
treatise under that title — moves in the followino; manner: Knowl-
edge, though identical with the Actual in contents, differs from it
in form ; it is, in fact, just the translation of those contents from
the form of object into that of subject— from the form of be-
ing into that of knowing. Now, a leading trait of this subjec-
tivity is its sense of possibility — of the power to use the active
synthesis that works in nature, and that now in mind works as
the secret of its thinking, with an indefinite freedom. In short, it
possesses imagination. As a consequence, it falls under the illu-
sion of the false-infinite (Spinoza's infinitum imaginationis), and
assumes that the principles of its logical synthesis — space, time,
and causation — are as infinite in the object-world as they appear

' This reminiscence of Leibnitz's monadology is extremely noteworthy.

Some Aspects of Recent German Philosophy. 15

to be in itself. But to suppose causation, time, and space to be
really infinite would strip the Actual of the quality of an absolute,
and thus annul reality- altogether. For, first, causation cannot in
fact run backwards infinitel}^ but must at some time or other have
absolutely begun / and it must break off its retrograde in logic as
well as in time — must cease in respect to " grounds " as well as in
reference to " causes : " for real causation belongs only to events and
change, not to Being and identity, and hence there must come a
point where the questions What caused it and Why are finally
silenced, else there would be nothing absolute ; whereas the xmde-
rived necessity of Being, and of -its elements and lams, is the first
condition for a rational view of the world. Secondly, real time
cannot be infinite : for real time is nothing but the total duration
of causal changes ; and to suppose this infinite would, reckoning
backwards, make the heginning of causation, just established, close
an infinite duration. Finally, real space is simply the extent of
the sum-total of atoms : but this must be finite, because the num-
ber of atoms is necessarily definite ; for, if it were not, the Actual
of perception, as a series of changes hy definite combination, would
be impossible. Objective space, time, and causation are thus all
finite ; the persuasion that they are infinite, with all the conse-
quent array of counterpart propositions contradicting the fore-
going, is an illusion arising from neglect of the difi'erences between
object and subject. Subjective space, time, and causation have,
to be sure, a quasi infinity ; yet our authentic thought, even about
them, dissolves this illusion and agrees with reality as soon as the
understanding brings its dialectic to bear. Here, then, concludes
Diihring, the whole Kantian fog-bank of Antinomies is explained
and scattered : one series of Kant's pairs of counter-judgments is
entirely true ; the other comes from the false-infinite, and is the
work of the imagination, uncritically mistaken by Kant for the
understanding.

From this point onward, then, the metaphysics of the Actual
may freely proceed. The Actual as absolute— as to its veritable
23eing— is eternal : time and causation apply not to its inmost
existence, but only to its processional changes. Nevertheless, this
differentiation is just as necessarily involved in its nature as is its
abiding identity. The system of changes called the sensible world
must accordingly, at some instant or other, have strictly begun.

16 The Joarnal of Speculative Philosophy,

Thenceforward tlie Actual, poured in its entirety into these
changes, moves in a gradually varjMug, many-branching Figure,
whose elementary components are of constant dimensions and
number, but whose shape is undergoing incessant alteration, giving
rise, from epoch to epoch, to forms of existence constantly new.
The series of element-combinations is not recurrent, and the world-
whole moves not in a circuit, but in a continual advance. This
movement is carried forward by the Logic of Nature; conse-
quently, by the combined action of causation, space, and time,
which are its only ultimate principles. Hence real causation is
the transfer of motion by the impact of extended parts, and the
evolution of the world proceeds by the single principle of me-
chanism. Strictly, then, universal logic is simply a Mechanics of
Nature^ This cosmic principle unfolds itself, primarily, in two
auxiliary ones — the Laio of Difference and the Law of Definite
Number. The logic of the universe, bearing onward in obedience
to these, must of necessity move, however, to a definite result —
the above-mentioned Final Purpose of existence ; that logic must
play the forui inherent in it out to its completion : thus the uni-
verse moves to a self-predestined close^ and is, therefore, under a
third and final law — the Lam of the Whole. These three laws,
now, are the key to all philosophy, theoretical or practical. They
are, for instance, the basis of that Natural Dialectic which is to
purge our logic of its subjective illusions : thus, exactly as the
Law of Sufficient Reason '^ must limit itself, as we just now saw,
by the real and higher Law of Causation, so that the universe-
process may strictly hegin.^ so must the other subjective logical
principle, the Law of Contradiction,^ be construed not to exclude
but to include the Law of Natural Antagonism ; otherwise, the
Mechanics of Nature would be impossible. They teach us, too,
not only to recognize the presence of continuity throughout the
whole of existence, but how to interpret it w^ith precision, and
not to obliterate difierence in our anxiety to establish identity.
The Law of Difierence and the Law of Definite Number provide

' niiluinf^'s earliest book of mark was a "Critical History of the General Principles
of Mechanics," a work crowned with the first prize by the University of GiJttingen, and
held, generally, in the highest esteem. It passed to its second edition in 1877.

■■' That every occurrence must have a reason, and a reason sufficient to explain it.

* That no subject can have contradictory predicates.

Some Aspects of Recent German Philmophy. 17

not only for the movement of nature tlirough the determinate
steps of the inorganic and tlie organic, bnt also for the ascent hij
a specijieally new element from the former to the latter, and, with-
in this, from the plant to the animal, and tinally from the animal
to man, with his rational consciousness. The whole, to be sure,
must be developed through the single principle of mechanism, but
the now favorite doctrine of the " Persistence of Force " violates
the essential principle that specific differences — primitive types
— inhere in the primordial being of the Actual, and is therefore
false. So, too, the Darwinian psendo-law of the " Struggle for
Life," with its unsocial corollary of the supreme riglit of the
strongest, must be rejected, not simply as striking at the root of
ethics, but as violating the Law of the WhoU\ Species can arise
neither by the transfer of a dead identity of force, nor by any
number of "survivals" of what merelv is or has been, but must
come from Kinds in the primitive constitution of the Actual.

At this juncture, however, Diihring feels called upon to recon-
cile the fact of ascending difierences with his principle of mechani-
cal continuity, and to explain, moreover, the original transit from
identity to ditlerence — from the primal repose of the Actual to its
unresting career of causation. But, after manifold attempts, which
all imply the unmechanical hypothesis of a conscious primal pur-
pose in his absolute, he finally takes refuge in the " mechanics of
the future," which, surely, is some day to unravel the mystery.
But, at any rate, he goes on, our three laws lead us securely to
the completing term in the theory of the world, by settling the
supreme question of the character and value of life. This question
he discusses in his work entitled " The Worth of Life." He solves
the problem in the optimist sense, and by means of the principle
of compensation : Existence is unquestionably marred by e^al, by
real evil ; but its dominant tone, its resistless tendency, its net re-
sult, is genuinely good. And this solution does not rest on any
merely subjective accidents of temperament, but directly on the
objective principles of existence itself. It is found, in short, in the
Law of Ditference and the Law of the Whole, and in the essential
necessity — the inevitableness — of the being of the Actual. Existence
must be judged, not by the morbid cravings of sentimentalism,
fed on fantasy, but by sound sentiment, which is founded on clear
understanding : when we once see distinctly into the nature of

xyii--2

18 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

the world, and adjust our tone and conduct to that, we shall find a
sufficient comfort in life; there is a bracing satisfaction in the dis-
criminating insight into that which must he. Existence has, too,
a oharm — and in itself ; and the seci-et of it lies in that very
variety, or difierence, which constitutes the principle of its move-
ment. Moreover, life mounts in differentiation, and the increased
objective good of the higher levels of consciousness outweighs the
increase of subjective susceptibility to pain. Still further, con-
trast not only heightens pleasure, but is the source of it : the sense
of resistance overcome is the very root of joy ; evil is the necessary
foil for the reaction essential to life. Still profounder elements of
good are contributed by the Law of the Whole : not only does the
ascent of life to higher and higher levels point clearly to the greater
fulness of existence as part of the Final Purpose, and so give play
to the " influence of the ideal " in the encouraging prospect of the
future, but our inseparable union with the Whole, our direct de-
scent from nature, and our reproduction of its life in ours, imparts
to us a certain Cosmic Impulse (Diihring calls it der xmiverselle
Affect), which, pressing upon the foundations of our being, fills us
with a dumb sense of the oneness of nature, and binds us bv forces
coming from beneath consciousness, nay, from the beginnings of
the world, to the totality of existence with an attachment that no
sum of ills can utterly destroy. It is from this " Cosmic Impulse "
that the inborn love of life and the instinct of self-preservation
arise. Our delight in the landscape comes from it; likewise our
delight in art, our capacity for poetry, our bent to science and
philosophy, with which we would figure to ourselves the form of
this treasured All. It is, finally, the source and the reality of the
set of feelings consecrated by the name of religion. To deny the
worth of life is, therefore, to put ourselves in conflict with the ele-
mental forces of our being, which will subdue us in spite of our
struggles.

Nevertheless, Duhring continues, though life is essentially good,
there is real evil in it, and one condition of its good is that we
shall rise to higher good by the spring from overcoming the evil :
the world makes itself better through us as channels. In this fact
we pass from theory to practice, finding in it the basis of ethics.
The first principle of ethics follows from the conception that con-
tributes so much to the excellence of the Actual— the Law of the

Some Asjpects of Recent German PhUosophij. 19

Whole, The hig-hest practical precept is, Act iv'ith supre^ne refer-
ence to the Whole. But inasmuch as we are members not only of
the absolute VVliole, but of the lesser whole called society, we can
only act in and throuj^h that ; accordingly, first in the order of
practical theories comes now Diihring's sociology. His writings
in this field are voluminous, especially in political economy, in
which he adopts and develops the views of our countryman Carey.
Carey, he thinks, has revolutionized this subject. The doctrines
involved in the free-trade view, especially the principle of unre-
stricted competition, he considers- a deification of mean self-inter-
est. They strike at the foundation of rational ethics — the supreme
moral authority of the Whole. Away with t-hera, then, and sub-
stitute instead those of benignant co-operation. This sentiment is
now carried out in a corresponding philosophy of politics, in
which Diihring develops an extreme socialism. That the afore-
said Whole, however, is conceived in the sense of a dominant
atomism, very presently appears : the " Whole " aimed at is simply
a greater force to give effect to the caprices of that order of " en-
lightened individual " who so ignores the mighty Whole of history
as to see in the organic institutions of reason — the family, the
state, the church — nothing but barriers to the career of human-
ity. The end of government, Diihring holds, is " to enhance the
charm of life;" and here, unfortunately, in settling the practical
test of enhancement, he is betrayed into destroying the profound
principle on which he rested his case for the worth of life — that
we must be guided by objective values, and ignore the outcries of
subjective caprice. It appears to him that, down to date, there has
been no considerable political or social wisdom in the world. So-
cial organization, as well as political, ought now to undergo a
complete re-creation, and all in the interest of giving the greatest
possible range for each individual to act according to his views of
what regard for the Whole requires. Thu^, all governments armed
with force are to be done away. In their stead is to come volun-
tary association. Democratic Communes are everywhere to re-
place organic States. There is to be no centralization — no one
great Commune, but numbers of little ones, to suit the convenience
of individual preference. There is to be universal " equality," and
women — a redeeming stroke of justice — are to share in all the vo-
cations, offices, emoluments (and the few burdens) of society

20 The Journal of Sj)eculative Philosophy.

equally with luen. Instead of compulsory wedlock, there is to>
come voluntary union from love, the bond to cease when the pas-
sion ceases. We are now at a long remove from that hostilit^^ to
self-interest that erewhile would prohibit unrestricted competition,
and revolted at the seltishness of free trade. Education is to be
reorganized in behalf of these conceptions, which are further sup-
ported by an appropriate philosophy of history. History is simply
a continuation of the drama of nature ; it tends to life, the varia-
tion of life, and the enhancement of its charm. The test of historic
progress is the heightening of self-consciousness ; but this Diihring
takes to mean the greater and greater accentuation of the indi-
vidual's sense of his validity just as he stands at each instant.
The career of history has, accordingly, three periods — that of the
ancien regime., that of the transitional present, and that of the
free and exhilarating future. This future, however, is to be con-
ducted by tolerably dry logic : much sentiment and refinement are
" aristocratic." A suitable philosophy of religion closes the gen-
eral view: religioi; is really nothing but the "Cosmic Impulse;"
historic religions are only superstitious misconceptions of this pro-
found pulse of the universe ; they are all to disappear, as essen-
tially worthless pseudo-philosophies. The " society of the future"
will neither worship ftor sublimely hope. The Philosophy of the
Actual has dispensed with God, and likewise with immortality.
For, to say nothing of the predestined catastrophe of the universe,
the individual consciousness ceases at death. There is no common
basis of consciousness, each person is a perfectly self-enclosed cir-
cuit ; nor is there any individual basis of it, except the body. An
individual consciousness is merely a definite " situation " — one
specific combination — of the world-atoms ; death is its dissolution,
and is therefore final oblivion.

The system that opened with such a keen vigor of theoretic
purpose, and which exhibits, as contrasted with Hartmann's, so
many points of a higher, firmer-knit, and subtler intelligence, has-
ended in a moral atomism as it began in a physical — in utter so-
cial dissolution. It is, however, only paying the penalty of inade-
quacy in its theoretical principle. Its root of irrationality is iden-
tical with that of Hartmann's theory — the undertaking to construe
the absolute with the categories of the relative, to think the eter-
nal in relations of time and motion. It is a merit in Diihring; that

Some Aspects of Recent German Ph'dosophii. 21

lie himself lays down with great force the principle here implied ;
"but his conception of the absolute forces him fatally to contradict
it. He will have the chain of causation once on a time legin ;
but a beginning is necessarily a point in time, and a point in time
is necessarily related to a before as well as to an after. Diihring
-consequently finds it impossible even to state his beginning of
change without referring it to a supposed rest preceding it; iji no
other way can he make room for a continuous mechanical nexus
in the whole of his Actual. The Actual is thus necessarily brought
wholly under time; time and causation are carried back, whether
or no, into "Being and identity," and Diihring is asserting in one
breath that the absolute is not subject to relative categories, and
jet is so. After his scruples about time and causation, it is re-
markable that he manifests no hesitancy in applying sjmce to his
.absolute ; he proves real space to be finite, and thus annuls his abso-
lute as before : for so, his total Actual has a limited extent ; an ex-
ient, however, like a beginning, must be defined by something
•other than itself — it is unthinkable, except in contrast to a heyond ;
thus the absolute, as really extended, is undeniably relative. The
2;ro mid-scheme of Diihring's system is hence a self-contradiction ;
that is, it is essentially irrational. The insufficiency of his princi-
ple exposes itself still further when he comes to discuss the origin
of consciousness and the reach of knowledge. He makes a fatal
misstep when he seeks the "common root" of sense and under-
standing in a time-and-space prms, ignoring the fact that he has
giv^en no answer but bald denial to the Kantian doctrine of the
ideality of space and time, and that, until the supports of this doc-
trine are removed, there can be no use of these elements to locate
a root of consciousness : to search for the pr ins of something, in a
region still presumably the creation of that something, is an in-
dustry not likely to be largely rewarded. Diihring's entire Dia-
lectic, like his supposed refutation of the Kantian Antinomies,
rests on the assumption, which he does not argue, that there is a
space, a time, and a causal progression, distinct from the thoughts
to which we give those names, an assumption which he may luave
hoped to warrant by establishing afterwards a mechanical transit
from mere vitality to consciousness; from any serious attempt at
the latter, however, his clear insight into the limitation of the Per-
csistence of Force prevented him from making. But it is in the

22 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

practical sphere that the self-contradiction in his principle shows
at its worst. This principle compels him at the outset of his ethics-
to setup the supreme authority of the Whole; but its lack of
ethical substance brings him at the end to bare individualism. At
first we feel as if he had failed to draw from it the high conse-
quences of which it seemed capable. Why, we say, should he sink
from the stern ethics of devotion to the Whole into this wretched
atomism of private caprice ? But we have here the genuine drift of
the system ; for real morality is impossible on a pessimist basis^
and Diihring's principle, in spite of his subtle and imaginative plea
for it, is optimist only by illusion. The very "Whole" that is
the ground and tlie sovereign object of our duty is in truth but a
monstrous Power, whose self-centred "Purpose" is the burial of
moral life, while yet only on its threshold, in a hopeless oblivion.
The yearnings of her ofispring, imparted to them by her " Cosmic
Impulse," Nature does not share; she brings them forth, "to
laugh and weep, to suffer and rejoice," for a season, then to pass
to the Abyss, whereto she also, with her latest and highest, too
surely is speeding. Life under such conditions is essentially
worthless, let it be painted in what sounding terms it may. The
resistless beat of such a theory is either to despair, as in the case
of the frank pessimism of a Hartmann, or else to illusions of re-
constructing the future in behalf of capricious desire. We cannot
hope for the abiding ; let us then turn to the satisfactions of the
hour ! In short, the professed hedonism of Diihring's theory is at
bottom pure egoisui. Covering the horror in the depths of life
with a thin optimistic gloze, Actualism can have no final precept
but the exhortation to cultivate the Whole so far, and only so far,
as it may be means to the greatest sum of individual enjoyment :
" therefore, whatsoever thy hand lindeth to do, do that with thy
might ; for there is neither wisdom nor device nor knowledge in
the grave — and thither thou goest."

In passing now to La.nge, it is not surprising to find him
strongly actuated by the desire to lay a better foundation for eth-
ics than materialism and pseudo-idealism have proved able to
build. His " History of Materialism" is not properly a history,
but a philosophy buttressed by history, in which, by exhibiting
materialism in the utmost possibilities that ages of restatement

Some Aspects of Recent German Philosopin/. 23

have been able to give it, he aims to expose its deficiencies ex-
haustively, and to assign the true weight which its principle and
that ot idealism should respectively have in a rational theory. Tlie
book has made a wide and deep impression on the younger men
at the German universities, and it is perhaps not beyond the facts
to say that his is at present the most decided infiuonee at work
among people of severe and technical training.

There must be sought, begins Lange, some higher 8t:ind-i)uint
than either materialism or current idealism affords; and this, he
is convinced, is to be found in the doctrine of Kant, provided it be
held to with rigid consistency. In his own words : " As a beaten
army looks about for some strong position on wliicli it may hope
to rally, so now, for some time, has been heard on all sides the sig-
nal, Fall lack on Kant! Still, not till recently has this retreat
been really in earnest, and now it is found that his stand-point
could never in strict justice be described as surmounted. To be
sure, misconceptions of his meaning and the ])ressure of the im-
pulse to metaphysical invention did for a while tempt his succes-
sors to endeavor the rupture of tlie strict limits he had drawn to
speculation. But the sobering that has followed this metaphysical
intoxication has compelled a return to the abandoned position;
and all the more, that men see themselves again confronted by
the materialism that once, on Kant's appearance, had fled and
hardly left a trace." He is deeply sensible of the deficiencies of
materialism, but, at the same time, appreciates the truth of a cer-
tain phase in it as against the pretences of what he takes for ideal-
ism. He says : " Materialism lacks for rapports witii the highest
functions of man's intelligence. Contenting itself with the mere
actual, it is, aside from the question of its theoretic inadmis>il>il-
ity, sterile for art and science, indifferent, or else inclined to egoism,
in the relations of man to man." And yet, on the other hand :
" The whole principle of modern philosophy, outside of our Ger-
man 'spell' of romancing loith notions^ involves, with scarce an
exception worth naming, a strictly natural-scientific treatment of
everything given us by sense. . . . Every falsification of fact is
an assault upon the foundations of our intellectual life. As against
metaphysical poetizing, then, that arrogates the power to pene-
trate to the essence of nature, and determine from mere concep-
tions that which experience alone can teach us, materialism as a

24 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

counterpoise is a real benefaction." But, on tlie further contrary,
idealism met a certain want that mere empiricism cannot supply.
" The endeavor," he adds, " is almost as universal to overcome
the one-sidedness of the world-image arising from mere fact. . . .
Man needs a supplementing of this by an ideal world created by
himself, and in such free creations the highest and noblest func-
tions of his mind unite."

In these words Lange's general position already reveals itself.
If Hartmann calls his view the Philosophy of the Uneonsdous,
and Diihring his the Philosophy of the Actual, Lange's might
similarly be named the Philosophy of the Ideal. He prefers,
however, to speak of the Ideal, not as a philosophy, but only as a
stand-point, because he wishes to include in philosophy not only
the means for satisfying the craving after ideality, but that for
closing with the demand for certainty. The aim of philosophy,
he holds, is not a doctrine, but a method ; and it is itself, when
precisely defined, simply the critical determination of the limits
cf the main tendencies in our faculty of consciousness. These
tendencies are two — the investigation of phenomena, and specula-
tion upon assumed realities beyond them. Philosophy has thus
two functions: the one negative., resulting in the critical dissolu-
tion of all the synthetical principles of cognition, and the strip-
ping them of all assumed competence to the absolute, leaving their
outcome purely phenomenal ; the other p)ositive., affirming the
right and the uses of the free exercise of the speculative bent,
when taken no longer as knowledge, but only as poesy.

The supports of this " Stand-point of the Ideal" are sought in a
critique of the " Critique of Pure Reason," or a sort of " JSTew
Critique of Reason," whose ambition is, to bring what Lange takes
as the first principle of Kant's inquiries now for the first time to
a rigorous completion. This principle (with, unfortunately, too
much support from Kant's own declarations in the course of the
discussion over his work) is assumed to be the absolute restriction
of our knowledge to experience: we have a J9/'^c»^'^ " forms " of
cognition, but they become futile when applied beyond phenom-
ena. That Kant himself regarded this as only the principle of
his theoretical view is, to be sure, unquestionable ; but his setting
up the practical reason as in itself absolute was, Lange maintains,
a direct violation of it, and, in fact, was rendered impossible by it.

Some Aspects of Recent German Pkilosophy. 25

Will, like cognition, is for us o\\\y phenomenon ; we cannot, then,
aver with Kant that we must he free, but only that we must think
ourselves free. In this, thouo-h, there is an end to Kant's trround-
mg ot ethics, and we must seek to construct a complete system by
the consistent carrying out of the only certainty with which we
can begin. We must return to the problem of the source and
limits of cognition, where, fortunately, we can assume an a priori
organization as having been established by Kant. The elements,
too, that Kant assigned to this organization — space, time, cause,
and the rest — all belong there; but Kant's attempt to settle a
priori the exact possible number of such " forms" was necessarily
futile : there is no way to determine what the contents of our
a priori endowment are except induction. ' And the gradual
progress of the natural sciences, particularly the modern ph3'siol-
ogy of the senses (in which the primary sensations — light, color,
heat, sound, taste, odor, etc. — have all been reduced to modes of
motion), points clearly to the probable omission of an essential
*' form " from Kant's list : motion should take its place among
the a jpriori " forms" of sense. Indeed, one great aim of our re-
construction of the " Critique of Reason " should be to bring its
doctrine into thorough accord with the results of the latest natural
science. This we shall do by insisting, first, on strict observance
of the limits it assigned to knowledge, and, secondly, on defining
these more exactly, in accordance with the mechanical nature of
sensation. In fact, we here arrive at the true import and value of
materialism : for that the Actual of experience is explicable on
mechanical principles alone, is the clear outcome of the latest sci-
ence, with which it only remains to set our theory of knowledge
into agreement in order at one stroke to give materialism its due,
and yet its quietus as a scheme of the absolute. The Actual of
experience, extended, moving, interacting in all its parts, and
transmitting energy from one part to another under the universal
law of the Persistence of Force, is from beginning to end our
mere representation ( Vorstellung) : the derivation of mind from
actual matter is therefore impossible, as it would involve the ab-
surdity of the object's producing the subject whose testimony is
the sole evidence that there is any object ; and as for a hypotheti-
cal matter — a conjectural substrate beneath the actual — that is
shut out of the question by the nature of the limits of possible

26 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

knowledge. For, once we are certain that our objects are strictly
ours — are but the framing of our sensations in onr a priori
" forms " — we are thenceforth confronted with the limiting notion
called the Thing-in-itself. The doubt, thenceforward ineradicable,
of our power to pass this limit turns into certainty of our impo-
tence to do so, when we Und, as Kant shows us, that the attempt
must cast our reason into systematic contradictions. Our knowl-
edge, then, is confined strictly to the Held of phenomena — to know-
ing, not what is, but only what exists relatively to us — and within
this iield it is further restricted to the tracing of mechanical causa-
tion ; for, again by Kant's showing, its highest category is action
and reaction, and all the terms of its synthesis must be extended
objects of sense: hence Du Bois-Reymond's "Limits of Knowl-
edge in Natural Science " become the limits of all knowledge
whatever. While, then, our philosopiiy thus falls into step with
natural science, it vindicates to materialism the entire province of
nature, but excludes it forever from explaining mind.

But the relativity of our knowledge, continues Lange, with es-
pecial emphasis, reaches wider than Kant suspected, and its con-
tradictions are profounder. The limiting Thing-in-itself Kant
assumed as a reality ; or, at all events, he declined to doubt its
existence ; but, to carry the a priori principle to its proper con-
clusion, we must now recognize the phenomenal nature of this
notion itself. Our all-encompassing distinction between thing and
representation, between noumenon and phenomenon, is itself a
judgment a priori ; in fact, an illusion of that order. It arises
from our constitutional tendency to put the positive pole of the
category of relation — substance, cause, agent — as if it were some-
thing culditional to the system of experience, instead of merely a
term within it. It is thus itself a contradiction, one not simply
functional, but organic, and provokes to endless other contradic-
tions. It is an illusion ; but one which, though we recognize, we
can never dispel, any more than that of the moon's enlargement on
the horizon, of the bending of the stick when thrust into the water,
or of the apparition of the rainbow. But, like these, it will mis-
lead only him who persists in the stolidity of the peasant ; and as
these, when comprehended, not only do not disturb our science, but
continue (and in heightened measure) to quicken the pleasure of
existence by their variety or their beauty, so will this ground-

Some Aspects of Recent German Philosophy. 2T

dissonance of our nature, with its whole array of derivative dis-
cords, serve, when once mastered, to enrich the monotone of life
and raise it to orchestral fulness and harmony. The metaphysi-
cal passion, born of this illusion, is indeed worthless for knowl-
edge^ but it is precious for life. In its immature stao;es, it burns
to transcend the limits of experience, in the vain hope of bringino-
back knowledge of that mysterious Beyond ; and so long as it has
continued in this delusion, it has been the bane of the world. But
when once freed from it, it will become, with religion and poetry,
the benign solvent of all the ills of living. It springs from the
same fountain as they, and is, indeed, its strongest and most pre-
cious jet ; for it is the work of imagination, its highest and noblest
function ; and imagination comes from the illusion of the noume-
non, and without it would not exist. While, tlien, for knowledge
we must hold fast by the actual, for all the inspiration of life we
must take refuge in the Ideal. Phenomenal and noumenal, the
actual and the Ideal, together, and only together, make up the
total of experience — of our vital Whole. In not less than this-
Whole are we to live, —

'* Im Ganzen, Guten, Treuen resolut zu leben," —

and the Good and the True are to be sought for in the Ideal ; in the-
Ideal, not only as vaguely rendered in the visions of poetry or the
solemnities of religion, but far more as framed into organic epics
of the mind, and turned with the force of systems upon action, by
metaphysical invention. Nor let it be supposed that our knowl-
edge of the purely poetic character of speculation will paralyze its
power over conduct ; though void of literal truth, its ethical truth
is real ; the conduct that it means is absolutelj' right, " A noble
man," to borrow Lange's own words, "is not the least disturbed
in his zeal for his ideals, though he be and must be told, and tells
himself, that his ideal world, witii all its settings of a God, im-
mortal hopes and eternal truths, is a mere imagination and no
reality : these are all 7'eal hecause they are psychical images ; they
exist in the soid of man, and woe to him who casts doubt upon
their power !"

Having thus cleared up the " Stand-point of the Ideal," Lange
then turns to the view it affords of practical philosophy. He
touches first the question of the worth of life, where his settlement

28 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

is this : Neither pessimism nor optimism is an absolute truth ; the
problem of evil, if we push for its radical solution, belongs to the
transcendent world, of which we can know nothing. Applied,
however, to the world of experience, the doctrine of the Ideal
gives an optimist or pessimist result according as we consider life
in its whole, with the Ideal in it, or only in its part — the part of
actual, stubborn fact. The fact, in itself, must always seem had ;
but it must be remembered that this very badness is the shock of
contrast with the ever-present Ideal ; and the optimist solution
has, after all, to come from moral energy : play into fact with aspi-
ration after the Ideal and enthusiasm for it, with the firm resolve
to transform fact into a semblance of its pattern, and the reward
will come in a gentler tolerance of defect and a calmer content-
ment : "the freer our career in the metaphysical region, the more
is our world-image pervaded by sentiment, and the more optimis-
tic ; but the more ethical, also, is its reaction on our doings and
bent. We are not only to reconstruct the actual after the Ideal,
but to console ourselves for the perception of what actually is by
contemplating what ought to be and might be." The transition
hence to ethics is natural, where the highest maxim is : Serve the
Whole. But the Whole here intended is the entire complex of
experience, with the active Ideal in it. " Work upon fact with
recognition of its stubborn reality, but in the light of the Ideal," is
what the maxim means. We cannot Tcnow that we are free or
immortal, hut we cannot help assuming we are the one, and hop-
ing we may be the other; and, on the other hand, we do know
that in our relation with mechanical nature, in whose domain,
after all, the larger part of our action lies, we are not free ; that
time is exceeding short, and enjoyment is hope deferred. The
lesson of life is chiefly fortitude and resignation. Lange, how-
ever, has no personal drawings towards egoistic ethics, nor to hedo-
nism, even in its most universal form. He announces himself
here as the continuator of Kant : he desires to act, and have men
act, from duty solely; to seek the Ideal, and serve it at all per-
sonal hazard, thougli with due regard to the imperfections of men
and the ol)stinacy of fact. His sociology follows the lines we
should now expect : his doctrine of the Whole lead's him to a
pronounced socialism, but he would have this socialism a real one,
in which organized society is to correct the aberrations of the in-

Some Aspects of Recent German Philosaphij. 2J>

dividual with vicror; he sees, too, like Diihrin^, the import of po-
litical economy in a comprehensive practical philosophy, and some
of his earlier writings were devoted to vigorous discussions in it.
Free trade and Laissez-faire can find no place, of course, in the
practical theory of the moralist of theAYhole. Spontaneous "har-
mony of private interests," and the talk of the Cobden school gen-
erally, is to him mere vagary, springing from a fatuous social
optimism. In many essentials, however, he affiliates with Mill,
while he derides Carey ; whereby he fell into many an acrimoni-
ous dispute with Diihring, for the vitriol of whose sarcasm, too,
he had but little relish. On the religious question, Lange aims at
a purely ethical position : one religion is to him as good as an-
other, provided it does the work of consecrating the Ideal and
giving it practical influence with men. As for " rationalizing"
religion, let it be done, if it must be done, in the interest of
culture and taste, but beware of dreaming that in this way you
are getting at truth ! The Christian religion, for instance, we
may retain in spirit, but in letter, No. Its entire ecclesiastical
Symbol, in fact, whether cultus or creed, may freely stand as long
as it c,3i\\, provided it he xinder stood to mean nothing hit a mode^
strictly symbolic, of enshrining the Ideal in general.

It is impossible not to recognize the seeming higher tone, both
intellectual and moral, of Lange's general view as contrasted \vith
that of either Hartm an n or Diihring. The substitution of forti-
tude for despair on the one hand and for enjoyment on the other,
unquestionably betokens a sounder moral feeling, while the stand-
point of critical agnosticism is at least in so far more intellectual
that it must be radically removed before any doctrinal procedure
can be validly begun. The adroit preservation, too, of the play of
the Ideal in the phenomenal whole is evidence of keen suscepti-
bility to imagination, and to its necessity and value in the conduct
of life. In this respect, Lange reminds us of Mill, though having
far greater fervor of fancy, as the latter appears in his " Three Es-
says on Religion." Like Mill, too, he will prove in the end to
have been a man of feeling rather than of intellect, determined in
his judgments by the wants of his heart even more than by the
lights o1' his head. We cannot long conceal it from ourselves,
that his belief in the ethical energy of the Ideal is without founda-
tion in his theoretic view ; that to talk of d^ity based on what we

30 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

Jcnoio to be pure iiction of the fantasy is a hollow mockerv ; that
the sole excuse that agnosticism can put forward for acting under
the Ideal is the anodyne this offers for the otherwise insupport-
able pain of existence : nor are there wanting clear indications that
Lange forebodes the spectral nature of even this excuse — that he
'divines the foregone failure of a remedy applied in defiance of our
knowledge that its essence is illusion. Yaihinger, himself a posi-
tively /(3y agnosticj says truly enough : ' " There breathes through
this view of Lange's a strain of tragic resignation. ... A lofty
moral pathos speaks out in all that Lange teaches, and in his man-
ner of teaching it." Like Carlyle, when gazing upwards at the
silent stars rolling through the solemn and trackless night, and see-
ing there the image and type of all existence, he can only ejacu-
late : " Ech, it's a sad sight, and we maun e'en mak' the best o't ! "
For him, life has reduced itself to the phenomenon of a [)henome-
non, to contradictious born of one fundamental contradiction, and
that an illusion we can never dispel. The professed " critique of
reason " has ended in representing reason as essentially irrational
— the self-harmonious turns out to be a thoroughgoing discord,
our "organization" is disorganization. Nor can all the seeming
glow of the " Ideal " blind us to the outreaching of this contradic-
tion into Lange's doctrine of action. The Ideal is put forward as an
end in itself; but it is in reality only viewed, and by the agnostic
can only be viewed, as a means to the suppression of disgust with
life. Thus Lange proclaims duty, but his principle is actually
pleasure; he denounces egoism, but cannot surmount hedonism ;
he declares for the autonomy of the will, but his doctrine forces a
strict heteronomy. He stands professedly for a stern socialism,
the sovereignty of the Whole as the organization of the Ideal ; but
in his theory there lurks the uttermost atomism : so many indi-
vidual fantasies, so many systems of the Ideal ; and, for each, the
sacred "duty " of meeting the antagonism of the countless other il-
lusions with becoming fortitude and resignation. And, truly, so
long as existence is thus shut in to mere appearance, its ghostli-
ness cannot but betray itself in all its movements. If, with Hart-

' Dr. Hans Vaihinger : " Hartmann, Diihring, und Lange : ein kritischer Essay." Iser-
lohn, 1876. A book full of interest and of acute criticism, though marred by diflfuse-
ness and extravagance. I have found it a valuable aid.

Some Aspects of Recent German Philosophy. 31

mann, the universe becomes a colossal and shadowy Blind Tom,
endowed with a clairvoyance whose infallible "intelligence" dis-
plays itself in striking through aeons with fatal precision at its own
existence; and, with Diihring, a gigantic Automaton Ches.s-Player,
matched against itself, and moving with balanced " charm " to
the checkmating of its own game: with Lange, it fades into a
phantom Panorama, in front of which sits Man, a forlorn imbecile
maundering over a Perhaps behind it, and shaking the flimsy rat-
tle of the " Ideal " in the fatuous persuasion that he is stilling the
irrepressible sob in his heart. Let it do its best, agnostic jihiloso-
phy cannot make of life anything but essential delirium— with the
shapes of its phantasmagory distinct enough, to be sure, and with
an all too fatal persistency in the recurrence of its wanderings —
but delirium still. In the wan light of " critical " thinking,

" We are sucli stuff
As dreams are made of, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep."

It is, however, no proper refutation of a theory to show its evil
practical results. It is a just retort for all such reproaches, to say :
*' Yes, our fate is heavT and our j^rospects are desperate ; but what
does that do towards disproving the fact ? " It is true enougli that
Lange's ethical structure breaks down, and that the gap between
it and his theory is a discredit to his intellect, but his " critical "
view is not to be displaced except by strictly tlieoretical means :
his procedure must be forced to expose contradictions, or else both
that and its results must be accepted. Should it, however, prove
to be self-contradictory, it will annul itself and its presupposed
principle. And such a contradiction it plainly involves. Its prin-
ciple is that the a priori nature of our cognition prohibits us from
assuming that we can know by means of it things as the}- are.
This is but another way of saying that we are forbidden to as-
sume that it is anything more than a peculiarity of man ; it is an
endowment of humanity, and whether its "forms" are those
of possible other intelligences, or of intelligence universally,
we can never know ; and for the reason that we are shut in
by the " limiting notion " of the Thing-in-itself. This principle,
now, Lange will carry out with unflinching comprehensiveness:
it must be extended to include even the fundamental distinction

32 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

between our phenomenal world of experience and the nouraenal
Thing.

This aim of Lange's comes from a genuine systemic insight ; not
only is it true in the general that a principle, to be such, must
work in its sphere with unlimited universality, but in this particu-
lar case the omission of the contrast between consciousness and
things from the compass of phenomenalism would be fatal to the
claims of the latter as a principle. If the notion of Thing-in-itself
be more than phenomenal, then there is a Thing-in-itself, and in
cognizing the contrast in question, in putting the judgment There
are Things-iii-themselves, we put a judgment of absolute validity^
and see by the light of intelligence as such — with the eye of all
possible intelligences : which would force upon the agnostic the
further perilous question, By which of our merely subjective cate-
gories, then, do we manage this astonishing achievement? The
admission of this one noumenal judgment would open the entire
agnostic mechanism of the a jprioi'i to the inroad of the absolute.
In some way, then, it must be reduced to a mere conjecture: it
will not do to dissipate it wholly, for then, not only would another
absolute judgment arise in its place, namely, There are no Things-
in-themsel'ves, but the validity of this would put an end to phe-
nomenalism forever : if there is no Thing-in-itself, then our cogni-
tion, call it by the name of " subjective" as long as we may, is the
cognition of all that is — the objects that we represent to ourselves
in our normal and in our potential activity are the only objects,
and human intelligence has a universal quality, knowing its ob-
jects as all intelligences must know them.

"With the instinct of self-preservation, then, Lange draws the
mentioned distinction back within the sphere of consciousness;
this, too, he will have us refrain from using as if applicable to the
absolute ; we must treat this also as phenomenal, aiid hence we
cannot be sure that there is, or is not, a Thing-in-itself. But we
now cannot silence the apprehension that there may be one.
Hence, the distinction remains, and Thing-in-itself becomes a lim-
iting notion — the antithetic formula of Me and Not-me becomes
an all-encompassing category (in fact, our fundamental a priori
principle) tl.\at necessarily causes all our cognition to seem merely
subjective, whether it be so in reality or not, and thus compels us
to limit our certainty to phenomena. Its agnostic force is, there-

Some Aspects of Uecent German Philosophy. 33

fore, rather increased than diminished ; we liave now not a sino-le
cognition remaining that can pretend to belong to intelligence as
such.

It cannot now longer be concealed, however, that, in setting oat
upon this path, Lange was moving to a goal that he little sus-
pected and still less desired. He has decided that, to validate the
phenomenal limitation of knowledge, he must make Thing-in-
itself a "form" «^noW. Bat he must be in earnest with this
apriority, and a "form" a priori means a principle from and in
consciousness organically and solely. To say that a notion is a pri-
ori is to say that the thought of it exliausts its existence, possibili-
ties, and essence altogether ; the entire being of it is in a native
energy of consciousness, and this elemental discharge from con-
sciousness is the whole meaning of the corresponding name; thus,
for instance, the pure thoughts corresponding to the words space.,
time., cause., are exactly and utterly what space, time, and cause
respectively are. Anything short of this view would render apri-
ority null ; for, if there were anything wholly extra Tnentem to
which they, even possibly, corresponded, we could then never be
certain that they originated in consciousness at all — we siiould re-
main in a quandary as to whether they did or did not — yet from
consciousness they must originate in order to give them that abso-
lute universality and necessity of application to their objects with
which we incontestably think them : as a genuine Kantian, Lange
must assent to this; and not simply assent, but proceed from it
wholly and thoroughly. To make Thing-in-itself a "form " a pri-
ori is, therefore, to exclude its existence in any other sense. But
this annuls the desired conjecture of its possible absolute exist-
ence ; we have committed ourselves irretrievably, then, to the
judgment. There are no Thing s-in-themselves ; and therewith, as
shown already, an act of absolute cognition enters, and phenome-
nalism falls to the ground. The "critical" procedure has an-
nulled its own principle.

Lange is, however, equal to the emergency ; he has that dogged
and indomitable couras-e which cannot realize its own defeat. The
rally on a new point explains his doctrine that this ground-form
of consciousness, as he considers it — this contrast between con-
sciousness and Thing-in-itself— is an organic contradiction. He
would evade the force of the above conclusion by showing that
XVII— 3

34; The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

Thing-in-itself is not the real contents of that a priori notion
which forms the " limiting term " in the relation in question. On
the contrary, that term is an hypostasis — an imaginary " embodi-
ment," a putting as beyond, independent of, or pins consciousness
— of its own system of internal categories appertaining to phe-
nomenal objects ; in short, a putting of the notions of substance,
cause, and interagent, as if they transcended conscious experience,
and existed apart from it as its object and ground. The a priori
category of substance and accident (subject and predicate), which
properly only connects one composite phenomenon (called the
"subje-jt" of a judgment) with anotiier phenomenon so as to com-
pose a new and fuller unity, lends its term substance for this pur-
pose ; the category of cause and effect, which properly connects
one phenomenon with another so as to condition and determine
the latter's occurrence, lends similarly its term cause j and, in like
manner, the category of agent and reagent, which properly con-
nects phenomena into a system of mutual attraction and repulsion,
lends its term agent. Thus, this triune hypostasis is, by some a
jpriori impulse, which Lange does not attempt to explain^ projected
beyond the limits of remaining consciousness, and is thought as
one term of the so-called noumenal relation, while consciousness as
a whole constitutes the complemental term — its " organization " (as
Lange calls it) being viewed as reagent^ and its sum of phenomena
as ef'ect and predicate. By this spontaneous contradiction of the
proper nature of its categorit-al system, our consciousness, con-
founding its own organic notions with the hypostatic notion of a
Tliing-in-itself, sets a bound to its own certainty by an illusion
which, as a priori., it can never dispel.

The justness of this analysis, so far as it goes, is self-evident:
we have doubtless here the correct partial genealogy of the re-
markable notion Thing-in-itself, and the exact genesis of all "criti-
cal " agno-ticism. There is wanting in it, however, the all-impor-
tant fact that it is the co-agency of the otiier a p)riori elements,
space and time, with those actually mentioned, that imparts to
this notion its specific character and chief plausibility. The infin-
ity of thase two elements, in contrast with the necessary tinitude
of all sensuous representations and of the total of sensible experi-
ence, together with our natural tendency to ignore those other ele-
ments in consciousness — the strictly supersensible — and to take

Some Aspects of Becent German Philosophtj. 35

our ease in the more familiar region wliere time and space render
all things plain, makes the inadvertence of supposing an ^^ alun-
dant room'''' for "existence wholly out of consciousness" and, as
we say, "independent" of it, an easy matter; an inadvertence
stimulated by the incessant activity of the other categoric?, but
engendered by a deeper principle, wh'icli Lange's omission to in-
vestigate is the vital defect of his analysis, leaving it a quite inade-
quate account of the nature and function of the notion Noumenon ;
of which, further presently. We thus think the Thing-in-itself as
extended or at least as enduring, even when we view it as the soul
or as God, and this is the source of all that mechanical psychology
and viciously anthropoiuorphic theology which has been, and is
now, the bane of religion, and the constant cause of scepticism
and indifference. With the addition now made, we have the
correct account of that travesty of the Noumenon which we call
Thing-in-itself, and may now attend to the real meaning of Lange's
result.

And this is striking enough. For he has, in fact, unwittingly
completed the demonstration of the absolute quality of human
knowledge ; and, at the same time, that of the necessary falsehood
of materialism — not simply the permanent impossibility of prov-
ing it (which, as we saw, he had already done from his agnostic
standpoint), but its alsolute impossihility ; for he has removed
the basis for even its hypothesis. He has shown now (1) that the
Tliing-in-itself dops not exist; (2) that, as notion, it is a selt-con-
tradiction — something whose sphere is solely loithin consciousness
putting itself as if it were he//ond it; (3) that, in spite of this, wo
continue, and nmst continue, to acciipt this illusion, which com-
pels us to limit our knowledge to experience, and renounce all
claims to its being absolute.

That is to say, then, the sole causj of our doubting the rigorous
vaUditij of our knowledge^and reducing nur cognition to the mere
idiosyncrasy of one species out of an unknown nunther of possible
orders of intelligent heings, is an illusion whose genesis we knou}^
a contradic'.ion that we distinctly detect. Then, beyond all con-
troversy, our discrediting and limitation of our cognitive faculty
is an error, and we are to correct it hy disregarding its cause.

And it is idle to say that we cannot do this, because the iilu-
Bion is organic, and will therefore continue to play ui)on us for-

36 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

ever. Now that it is once detected, it is completely in our power,
so far as its affecting our judgment is concerned. The presence
of organic and necessary illusions in the faculty of cognition, espe-
cially in its function as sense, is an unquestionable fact (the multi-
form phenomena of refraction, for instance), but, from the moment
we know them as organic and necessary, they cannot mislead us,
because to know them as such we must trace their origin in the
necessary laws of the function they affect ; we thenceforward
learn to interpret them — as signs, namely, of a complexity in our
system of consciousness far richer and more variuus than we had
at first suspected, — of a harmony of antagonisms far more manifold
and overlapped one within another than we had dreamed of; and
the more wide-embracing their recurrences become, each time
detected and corrected, the more do we gradually rise to the eon
ception of the self-sufficiency of our intelligence. And the power
of detecting and allowing for them comes just from their being
organic, and depends upon that. We are, therefore, now in the
position, by the investigation through which Lange has led us, to
assure ourselves of the reality — the absoluteness in quality — of
our human intelligence. From the Kantian doctrine of the a
priori carried to its genuine completion, as we have now seen it,
we infer that the objects which present themselves in course of
the normal and critical action of human consciousness are all that
objects a8 objects can be ; that beyond or beneath what completed
human reason (nioral, of course, as well as perceptive and reflec-
tive) finds — -finds, I do not '&2,^ fathoms — in objects and their rela-
tions, or will find, there is nothing to he found ; that our universe
is the universe, which exists, so far as we know it, precisely as we
know it, and indeed in and through our knowing it, though not
merely hy that.

The process that has led us to this result, and which may prop-
erly be called a Critique of all Scepticism, yields, morever, the
final impossibility of materialism. We saw, some distance back,
that the actual of sense could by no possibility be the source of
consciousness, being, on the contrary, its mere phenomenon — its
mere externalized presentation (picture-object) originated from
within. But the hypothetical j!?6>fe^i^*aZ of sense, the assumed sub-
sensible substance called matter, we have now seen to be precisely
that self-contradiction called the Thing-in-itself, and it therefore

Some Aspects of Recent German Philosophy. 37

disappears from the real universe along with that illusion. We
have also, then, a definitive Critique of all Materialism.

By the path into which Lange has led us, we therefore ascend
from the agnostic-critical stand-point to the higher and invigorat-
ing one of thorough, all-sided, and affirmative idealism. A few
words must suffice to outline its general conception. Our result,
then, is this: Our normal consciousness has the trait of univer-
sality : it puts judgments that, in the same circumstances, every
intelligence, and every order of intelligence, would put ; and the
objects it perceives, and as it perceives them, are the same that,
under the same conditions, all intelligences would perceive; for
objects are themselves but complexes of its judgments, and the
mentioned circumstances and conditions are, indeed, part of the
objects as perceived — not limitations imposed upon consciousness
from without, but particularizations of its own primordial processes.
Or, to put the case inversely : The potential reach of normal hu-
man consciousness is what we mean by universality : intelligence
as such is simply the fulfilment of human intelligence. The at-
tempt to take the universe as beyond or apart from or plus con-
sciousness, has sublated itself into the bringing of the universe
wholly within and conterminous with consciousness ; and the
ancient by-word, Man the measure of all things, comes round
again, but with a new and pregnant meaning. Only, this uni-
verse-consciousness must be thought as it is, without omission or
exaggeration of any of its contents, and, above all, by mastering
the grounds of its existence and the method of its possibility. All
that is, comes within consciousness, and lies open to it — the literal
All, whether " starry heavens without " or " moral law within,"
sensible system of nature with its bond of mechanical causation or
intelligible system of moral agency with its bond of free allegiance
constituting a "Kingdom of Ends"— a world of spirits, with the
Father of Spirits omnipresent in all : consciousness means that.
In being conscious, we are conscious of a universe — wherein each
of us, to put the case in a metaphor (inadequate, of course), is a
single focal point upon which the one ensphering Whole of light
is poured in rays that are reflected back again to its utmost verge,
and thence returned to be again reflected and returned, and so on
without end, each added return bringing rays in greater fulness
from remoter and remoter confines. Consciousness and universe

38 The Journal of Speculative PhilosopJiy.

are in truth but two names for the same single, indissoluble and'
continuous Fact, named in the one case as if from within it, and
in the other as if from without. Not that in every conscious focus
all the contents of this universe are imaged with the same clear-
ness, or reflected forth with the same energy, as in every other;
only that, dim or bright, strong or feeble, confused or distinct,
the same "Whole is in some wise or other always there. And it
is not to be overlooked that, to the fnliilment of this universe-
consciousness, it is essential that it be not simply an individual,,
but a social, an historic, and, in fact, an immortal consciousness.
The grounds for this conception it is not our place to enter upon
here; it is enough to say that the interpretation of the facts of
ordinary consciousness into the rigorous necessity of their imply-
ing this absolute Universal is the business and achievement of a.
genuine Critique of Reason. Of the method and result of this it
need only be added that it proceeds to the adequate explanation
both of the a priori categories, of which we have now heard so
much, and of that residual Noumenon which we saw that Lange
left unexamined ; it finds the explanation of the former, and the
reality of the latter, in a single Conscious Principle, of the abso-
luteness and all-transcending infinity of which the vague notion
Noumenon is only our native confused feeling, while the categories
are merely its modes of manifestation, which, though they seem
so different to our natural view, turn out, on critical investigation,
to be one and the same single Synthetical Energy — simply a
necessary nexus between all possible separate terms of sense..
This Principle, as blending into one, by its ascending retreat
from the categories, the two activities of absolute Subject and
absolute Cause, is the one Creative Unity. The universe-con-
sciousness thus passes from an apparent mere Fact into a pure
Act. And this Act, as determining itself through a system of
conscious subjects — loci or vortices of the categories — into that ut-
termost particulai'ity of consciousness which we name sensible
perce) tion, clasps together in its living process both Subject and
Object, and is thus &iv\Qi]y personal — the Person of persons.

It is plain, of course, that the truth of all this hangs upon the
validity of the doctrine of the a priori. It is a noteworthy fact^
then, that Lange, as agnostic, sees that he must by no means ad-
mit the theory according to which alone the establishment of the

Some Aspects of Recent German Philosophy. 39

a priori is possible. To determine that its principles are veritably
underived from its objects, consciousness mu^t, of course, be capable
of an act in which it extricates itself from its world of sensible
objects, and contemplates its cognitive equipment strictly ^^r se—
ail act which thus transcends experience^ and was, consequently and
fitly, named by Kant "transcendental reflection;" an act, more-
ovei', whose execution presupposes the power not only of usiiig the
apparatus of judgment upon elements that are not sensible objects
at all — in short, that the categories can be applied beyond sensu-
ous experience — but also of making judgments of absolute validity,
since the decision that anything is organic in us must be a deci-
sion upon our real nature, as it appears, say, .to the mind of our
Creator. This presupposition is radically at variance with Kant's
subsequent finis to his theoretical critique, and with Lange's ac-
ceptance and development of it. It is in keeping with this, now,
that Lange takes the astonishing ground that the contents of our
a priori endowment can only be determined by induction — a
manifest contradiction, as an induction, despite its formal gen-
erality, is always a particular judgment, while, to establish the
apriority of an element, we must show it to be not only universal,
but necessary. It is plain, then, that Lange has here finally aban-
doned the properly Kantian stand-point, and, without intending it,
has really gone back to that of Locke, where he and his followers
may be left, without further concern, to the thoroughgoing surgery
of Hume.'

PHILOSOPHY IN THE GERMAN UNIVERSniES.

As peculiar to the universities, because of the severe technical
training requisite to the pursuit of the problems involved, the
most novel, and, therefore, most immediately interesting phenom-
enon is that of the men who have frankly abandoned a priori
ground altogether, and are, as they are persuaded, engaged in the
task, patient and humble, but alone truly valuable, of laying in
Blow and careful experiments the foundation for a future empiri-
cal metaphysics that is to take away from that province of thought

» Among the leading Neo-Kantians, after Lange, arc Professors Cohen, of Marburg;
Bona Meyer, of Bonn ; Benno Erdir.ann, of Kiel ; and Dr. Bans Vaihinger, of Stiass-
burg.

40 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

its present reproach, and to give it the dignity of a science. Thej
have thus, with full purpose, taken up the position that Lange has
unintentionally prepared for his followers. Their object is stated
in the same general terms as that of Spencer, and, particularly,
as that of Mill and Bain, but their occupations and methods are
materially different. The Englishmen rely, indeed, upon expe-
rience as the sole basis of evidence ; but they have deemed it
already possible to raise upon it vast and complicated theoretical
superstructures, which have, as they acknowledge, only that " prob-
able" evidence which induction affords. The German party, on
the contrary, hold that results in the form of law and system are
only to be the reward of their remote successors. They refer us to
the fruitful but tedious and long unrewarded labors of the age be-
fore and around Galileo, which ushered in the career of modern
science — labors in the patient and minute measurement of phe-
nomena. The character of exact science can only begin in a body
of knowledge when it has risen to the point of being computable;
and formulas of computation are to be generalized only after long
periods of measuring and remeasuring the phenomena involved.
When varying phenomena can once be connected by some suffi-
ciently simple law of quantitative interdependence, generalizations,
on a great and unexpected scale, may be eff'ected by the compu-
tative apparatus of the calculus.

It is singular, however, that this school really had its origin in
one of the most intense metaphysical movements of the old-fash-
ioned kind that Germany has known ; I say intense purposely, for
the number of its participants has always been small compared
with that of the followers, or professed followers, of Kant, Fichte,
Schelling, and Hegel. I refer to the philosophy of Herbart, who
was Kant's successor at Konigsberg, and who, seizing on Kant's
notion of Things-in-themselves, worked out a metaphysical theory
on the hypothesis that, behind all the phenomenal particulars and
genera of experience, there lay a real world of corresponding dis-
tinctions in the Things-in-themselves — a singular new form ot
atomism, not strictly materialistic, however, but somewhat more
akin to the monadology of Leibnitz, these units of reality (or
HeaJs^ as Herbart called them) being some spiritual and others
material. Out of this metaphysics grew up a vigorous school of
psychology, to which Fechner brought, together with fresh and

Some Aspects of Recent German Philosophy. 41

often quite mystical speculations, a remarkable body of researches,
aiminij to establish mathematical relations between inward sensa-
tion and its outward conditions. From these came the now noted
formula, called Fechner's Law, in which the principle is stated
that " the intensity of a sensation varies directly as the lojjarithm
of its stimulus." These researches now have attracted all that
class of minds with the requisite trainino; in the exact sciences,
and the requisite eye for broad generalizations, that would other-
wise busy themselves with ordinary inquiries into nature, and
whose bent is to an empirical logic. They are busy at laborious
experiments upon all sorts of mental phenomena tliat can by any
possibility be got into a sensible form capable of measurement,
and their ingenuity of invention and method in these regions is
truly astonishing. Their labors affiliate, of course, with those of
the investigators in physiological psychology; indeed, the two
investigations go usually hand in hand, though the measurement
part belongs properly to what is called psychophysics. The aim
here is suggested by the title — to establish a iricchanics of mental
experience. This is one day to do for psychology the analogue ot
"what physics has done for natural philosoph}' — enable us to pass
to the social, race, and historical laws of human action, as we have
passed to the laws of matter not merely on the earth's surface,
but in the distant celestial regions. When these psychophysical
laws shall have one day reached a sufficient generality, they will
afford, the new school predict, an accurate foundation for specula-
tion and verifiable theorizing on the basis of probability, just as
in the natural world physical principles have done for the correla-
tion of forces, the conservation of energy, the wave theory of light,
and the nehular hypothesis or its possible correction.

This account may not unfitly close with a brief reference to the
philosophic situation at the University of Berlin, as it presented
itself to my own observation in the winter semester of 18Sl-'82.
It may be taken as typical of what is going on in the whole of
•Germany, Berlin being confessedly the German intellectual cen-
tre. All the phases of the present state of transition, as I have
endeavored to describe them,' were reHected there. One notice-

' See the remarks already referred to, in " The Concord Lectures."

42 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

able fact, especially in the light of Professor Wiindt's statement of
five years ago/ was tliat of two courses of lectures on Schopen-
hauer. Tlie drift of these was unfavorable, to be sure, but both
of them betrayed the fact that Schopenhauer's doctrine of the na-
ture of tlie will, apart from his metaphysical and ethical uses of it,
had made an effective impression on the lecturers. Wundt could
Bay, in 1877, that to that date Schopenhauer had met with no
consideration in the universities whatever. But it is now plain
that his doings have taken some root even there, and in directions
that must prolong the present inability to surmount the agnostic
and empirical obstacles. For not only at Berlin did he have a
good hearing, but in several of the other universities too. In
fact, in the whole of Germany, there were some nine or ten courses
then given upon him — a greater amount of attention than any
other single thinker received, excepting only Kant, Plato, and
Aristotle.

But, to resume, Berlin, in 1881-'82, was a fair reflection of the
general conditions I have already depicted. From the venerable
Miehelet — in his eighty-second year, lecturing with astonisiiing
vigor and admirable powers of exposition on " German Philoso-
phy since Kant," and vindicating himself, in this course at least,
from the charge so frequently in past days brought against him,
of belonging to the " left wing" of the Hegelian school — to young
Dr. Ebbinghaus, a representative of the psychophysical empiricists^
pretty much all the phases of the present situation were at hand.
— the vanishing remembrance of the great spirits of the bygone
generation, the transitional uncertainty evinced in the dominant
attention to history, the vivid interest in the agnostic interpreta-
tions of Kant, the fresb and animated attachment to empirical
views, the faith in the great future awaiting the new studies in
psychophysics. Zeller, who began philosophical life as a Hegel-
ian, and may be reckoned the latest, perhaps the last, illustrioua
product of that school, but who wearied of the "Dialectic," and
now seems to find in Spinoza, construed in a Hegelian sense, bet-
ter satisfaction than in any other modern thinker, was almost
wholly occupied, of course, with historical instruction. In his
auditorium the great throng of the philosophice studiosi — ^tive or

' See Wundt on " Philosophy in Germany," in Mind for July, 18Y7.

Some Aspects of Recent German Philosophy. 43-

BIX hundred — was to be found ; there he lectured daily, with
speech fluent and gracious, and with an exhaustiveness and an
ease of learning that were not less than overwhelming. Althaus,.
another of the elder generation, busied himself with psychology
and Aristotle. Paulsen, who, from his vigor of early middlc-ao-e.
his professorial rank, and his already extended reputation, is prob-
ably to be regarded as the rising man in philosophy at Berlin, and
whose audience, next to Zeller's, was much the largest, defended,
on grounds wholly empirical, a frank impersonal pantheism, mak-
ing great use of a peculiar and interesting form of the argument
from history — a striking enrichment and deepening of the old
iproof de consensu gentium; he put it that advancing social and
historical experience is the tribunal of probable truth, that imper-
sonal pantiieism has grown with the growth of this experience,
and thus exhibits all the probability that the approval of this tri-
bunal can afford. His definition of philosophy, too, is in keeping
"with his eirpiricisin ; its essential identity with science is a favor-
ite thesis of his, and he defines it accordingly as the inclusive
whole {Inhegriff) of all sciences.' Of the jprivatdocenten^ Dr.
Lasson lectured on the philosophy of rights — a descendant of Ile-
geVs school, but, like the rest of the younger men in Germany
now, with no decided claim to a truly penetrating insight into the
master's doctrine; he talked of Hegel as "a literary classic" — a
symptom of questionable significance. Dr. Ehbinghaus expounded
Kant in the agnostic and empirislic sense, lectured on Schopen-
hauer, and gave vigorous lessons in psj'cliophysics. Dr. Denssen
lectured on Hindoo philosophy, which had the look of further stir-
rings from Schopenhauer and further foundations tor his influence.
Finally, Dr. Gizycki, an empiricist, principally interested in the
English moralists of the last century, gave courses on Shaftesbury
and on ethics from the stand-point of the development hypothesis.
A mighty purgative for these agnostic and empirical tendencies
would possibly be found, were the Germans to betake themselves

1 Professor Paulsen is the author of a very noticeable work on Kant— the "History
of the Development of Kant's Theoiy of Knowledge "—on wliich his reputation mainly
rests. This has been followed recently by another, with the title " What Kant may bo
for Us." He holds that Kant attained no stand-point essentially higher than Hume's,
and that Hume was not properly a sceptic, but only denied the capacity of reason ta
judge of truths of fact.

44r The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

to a thorough study of Hume, not in the more literary and much
abated form in which he appears in the " Essays," but in his un-
constrained masterpiece, the " Treatise of Human Nature." So
far as I could discover, this work is well-nigh unknown in Ger-
many. Zeller, of course, was well acquainted with it, and, be-
sides, had no need of its cure ; but, excepting him, no one at Ber-
lin seemed to have made any thorough study of it, nor does recent
philosophical literature anywhere in Germany give any signs of
such study. Yet, in the Fourth Part of its First Book, Hume has
himself furnished the key to the destruction of the empirical posi-
tion and its resulting agnosticism. There he is not content to
stop with his ordinary doctrine, that experience can give no more
than the sensation of the present moment ; but goes on to show —
whether of full purpose or not it seems impossible to decide —
that, without presupposing the abiding unity of personal identity,
even that fleeting presentation is impossible. But this permanence
of personal identity he had, by the rigorous logic of empiricism,
already done away with, and all perception — all experience, even
to its simplest term, was thus reduced to illusion. The contradic-
tion between this and the empirical principle, which derives its
whole force from the assumed absoluteness of the single sensation,
is obvious ; and what Hume has really done, then, and quite irre-
futably, is to remove that principle finally. True is it indeed,
that, without the Abiding in us, the transitory and sensible is
impossible. Or, as it has been most forcibly put in a saying that
deserves to become classic, " Our unconditioned universality is
the ground of our existence ; " — its ground / that is, at once its
necessary condition and its Sufficient Reason.

Faith and Knawledge. 45

FAITH AND KNOWLEDGE.

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF DR. H. K. H. DELFF BY A. E. KROEGER.

In all our knowledge there is something which is controlled not
exclusively and pre-eminently by reflection, but by conditions be-
longing to our personality ; and it is precisely this element which
determines the peculiar direction of our thoughts. If everything
in knowledge were absolutely and solely conditioned by reflections
and arguments of the understanding, it would be possible to con-
vince every person of his errors — at least to a certain degree, cor-
responding to the capacity of his understanding — and to gain him
over to the more correct view. But as matters stand, it would be
impossible to convince, for instance, a Darwinian or Materialist of
the idea of life and of the rationality which pervades nature, by
merely employing arguments, though they were the most pro-
found and acute; just the same' as the Darwinian's scholarship
and power of combination would not be able to convince any one
who feels himself powerfully penetrated by the living and rational
character of nature. And how else can this fact be explained
than by assuming that even in science we operate not merel}- with
the understanding and our power of reflection, but also with per-
sonal'sympathies ? Doubtless it is a [compact, and in itself con-
nected web of arguments, which, taken from psychological and
historical reflection, has been elaborated throughout centuries, and
is put forward to prove that man is of divine and not animal
origin ; and yet nobody, who has more than superficially and care-
lessly considered the Darwinian hypothesis, will be induced there-
by to approve another and utterly different view of the origin
of man than that of the Darwinian theory. On the other hand,
the Darwinian will be equally unsuccessful in his efforts to per-
suade any one who has received tiie highest or deepest conserva-
tions and initiations of philosophy and religion. The reason can
only be this : that this or that person not only examines the proofs
submitted to him with the eyes of the understanding, but also
meets them with a certain vital force of the soul, which, by an
essentially diff'erent quality, energetically repudiates the one or the
other matter, and compels the understanding, which is its servant,

46 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

to oppose real or apparent proofs to those other proofs, in order to
be able to maintain itself in its own Being under all circuin-
stances. It can also be said — speaking from the stand-point of
him who is convinced of the sufficiency of his proofs — that the
other person does not take them to heart. But why not ? Why,
simply because the other's heart clings to quite another mode of
thinking, which repels all heterogeneous processes.

There are certain matters in the scientitic organization of every
person which most decidedly belong to the category of moral con-
victions and only subsequently develop into logical insights ; and
even then always in such a way as to remain dependent upon
their original source. It is through convictions of this kind,
which are in their essence moral, that the peculiar culture of
almost every individual is determined in its principles. Hence,
it is idle work to dispute or argue, with reasons of reflection,
with any one who does not share the presuppositions that move
us — that is, our moral convictions, no matter whether such a dis-
pute turns upon general or special matters. The only hope to
gain over such an opponent rests on our success in shaking his
moral convictions, which again cannot be done by the logical
acuteness of the arguments employed, but only by the moral
power of the soul, which expresses itself forcibly, whether with or
without that logic. For, if those moral convictions are shaken,
our opponent will be able to take our arguments to heart, as the
phrase goes, and to consider them in the face of his conscience. If
they are not so shaken, even the L»gical and empirical compulsory
force of our arguments will not move him effectually; they will
be to him mere empty and voiceless words.

The source of all important certainty and conviction is, there-
fore, to be found in the heart, or, as this word is liable to much,
abuse, let as rather say, the soul. If we consider man not accord-
ing to the abstractions of school-learning, but according to concrete
experience, it is generally known that man is a personality. ]>ut
it is not well thirkable that any activity, hence also man's men-
tal activity, can be excepted from being conditioned by the inner
motive force of every human being, his personal motivation ; as,
indeed, every part, or manifestation, must always assume the char-
acter of its whole, or its sul)ject. Kepre.-entations, conce{)tions,
judgments, conclusions, everything pertaining to the consciousness

Faith and Knowledge. ^

-conditioned bj reflection, is a mediated production of the spirit,
induced by a perception and connected with an objectivation. It
is based essentially on a relation to the things, wherein only their
external side, their appearance to the senses, as we say, is shown,
and has been abstracted from this manifestation and placed before
the objective contemplation of the mind. In this mediated activ-
ity, connected with the external, we see at work an immediate re-
lation, which does not proceed from the periphery of thinjrs, but
endeavors to o;rasp and represent the whole essence of the ohject
immediately in its separate appearance, and which, proceeding
from the inner central and total force of man, his soul, is a pecu-
liar act thereof. This immediate relation, or act, is always co-
posited with and made the basis of that mediated act, and is wliat
we call faith — excluding, of course, every determined — as, for in-
stance, a religious— significance of the word. Thus I also form a
judgment of a person's character, not in the first in^tance by re-
flecting on its utterances, but, above all, by the general impres;^ion
his being as a whole makes upon me immediately. In the same
way every scientific exposition of a peculiar nature is reducible to
certain presuppositions, that remain and are left in part altogether
unproven, and which are accepted in no other manner, and, in
fact, cannot be accepted in any other manner than by faith.
Thus, for instance, it would be clearly ridiculous to maintain that
the truth of the mechanical view of the universe results from the
mechanical construction of the separate phenomena, instead of
saying the reverse — namely, that the truth of these c;)nstructions
is dependent upon the truth of that fundamental view, since they
are altogether impossible without such a presupposition, repre-
eenting, as thej do, only their individual application and develop-
ment. Hence, also, Epicurus spoke of that 'jrp6\r]'^L<i or anticipa-
tion of a spiritual information of a matter, without which, as he
says, nothing can be either understood, or investigated, or dis-
puted.'

Well, these anticipations I have called faith ; and this faith is
accomplished by the soul, the fundamental power of man and ot

• "Cicero de Nat. Deor.," 1, 16. 'Quae est pens, aiit quod genus hominuin, quod
non habeat sine doctrina anticipationem quandam deorum, quani appellat ■Kp6Kriy\,iv
Epicurus, id est anteceptam animo rei quandam informationem, sine qua nee intelligi
quidquam nee quaeri nee disputari potest ? "

48 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

personality. This explains sufficiently what I mean when I say
Boul, not a chaos of blind feelings, bnt a living and free force,
which gains its knowledge through sentiments and represents its
acts in passions. Feeling is blind determinedness; sentiment, on
the other hand, is an inner, free-cognizing, cherishing, and deter-
mining one's self in another, and another in one's self, and includes
a living clearness and evidence — distinct from the mediated
knowledge of reflection, which gathers and combines the sepa-
rated — immediately and directly seizing and appropriating the
whole. That which we call faith, therefore, is not blind, but see-
ing ; not chained down, but free and choosing. For consciousness
and freedom are not chained down to the system of reflection any
more than man's whole being is absorbed in it. That conscious-
ness is only a form of externalizing in regard to the true self and
consciousness of man, and borrows the positive power of his see-
ing and choosing only from this substance, which is its basis. I
should prefer, however, to call this knowledge of faith conscience,
or, as the Greeks named it, avvel'^r](ji<i, which implies a co-knowing.
Conscience is generally taken as meaning a divine law, an dypacfyof
v6fio<;, engraven in the fleshy tablets of the heart. How little
valid, or, rather, in what very limited sense this interpretation is
valid, is evident among other things from this, that the com-
munist, who aspires to overthrow all law and order, also appeals
to his conscience. Hence, conscience signifies that individual
stand-point on which every person rests, and by which he is
moved.

All knowledge, therefore, demands faith, and faith lies at the
basis of all knowledge. All proofs, that extend into the sphere
of moral convictions, derive their convincing power from faith
alone. Without faith all proofs of the existence of God, the im-
mortality of the soul, and the freedom of the will, are only jug-
gler's tricks, or a weak reed that breaks in your hand at the least
pressure. This faith, which is postulated by every proof, is
not directed upon the visible components of the proof and their
composition, but on the invisible part of the matter. This faith
is not darkness, but light ; not a weakness, but a strength ; not a
passive subjection, but an act of the purest personality, and none
the less conscious and free because it does not arise in consequence
of a deliberation, reflection, and judgment of the understanding.

Faith and Knowledge. 49

The judgment on which it is based is an immediate judgment,
which does not unfold itself objectively, but enwraps itselt^in the
inwardness of a sentiment.

Hence, when we speak of conviction in the true, significant
sense of the word, it is this personal fundamental act of life from
which everything of that conviction emanates; this act of life
which involves a direct, living connection with the living con-
crete matter itself. Those persons, however, who accept some-
thing merely from hearsay, be they moved by whatever external
grounds, or who leap across the chasm of uncertainty by a salto
mortale with bandaged eyes, may boast neither of conviction nor
of faith, but are to be accounted, in the truest sense of the word,
sermim peciis imitatorum, since they have renounced their per-
sonality as well as their self-thinking and self-willing, and com-
mitted suicide upon their dignity as men.

But faith is, as has already been suggested, and as, indeed,
appears from the nature of the case, individually determined and
diflferent. Thus, for instance, the first immediate impression
which I form and receive of any particular subject, is conditioned
by the original relation of my personality, and the direction in
which its tendencies and inclinations move. In the same wav.
the impression which I first conceive of another person, and in
consequence whereof I form a judgment of him from his several
doings and sayings, is altogether conditioned by my individuality
and its natural relation to that of the other person. Hence there
arises a danger of falling into a state of general indifference and
scepticism, since we seem forced to declare every true personal
conviction valid merely as such, and truth seems determined only
by individuality. This would lead us to the doctrine of the
Sophists : That is true which appears to each one as true. Never-
theless, there is precisely in the region of personality a sphere of
the universally valid which has far greater motive power than
anything in the sphere of mere conception. This is the sphere of
the Moral. Some have tried to represent this as a delusion, by
pointing out how difi*erent notions about the just and proper are
to be found among different people, and how the just and proper
seem, therefore, based only upon tradition and habit. Without
dwelling upon the fact that, nevertheless, certain universal and
common fundamental traits can be recognized amid these differ-
XYII— 4

50 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

ences, and remain ineradicable, we shall merely observe that the
true part of this aro;ument is simply this : the moral categories of
consciousness, or of the mind, are certainly dependent upon the
history, or the historical development, of mankind, or of any
particular people. Tiie attainment of a higher degree of culture
is essentially connected with the consciousness of an ideal and
of its unconditioned right in regard to the lower stage, and the
right of this consciousness in regard to morality surely no one
will dispute, who examines at the same time the sphere of Esthet-
ics, and compares, for instance, the Hellenic ideal of beauty with
that of the negro, or even of the Phoenician or Egyptian, and who
considers, further, that the Beautiful and the Good belong neces-
sarily to the same sphere. For surely no one will pretend that
the Beautiful is based on an imitation of nature, and that, in order
to create Beauty, nothing but a correct eye is necessary. Beauty
and Morality — let me say it boldly — resolve themselves finally
into an Unconditioned, and melt together, therefore, with a cer-
tain religiousness, if I may say so. Or, does morality consist in
a naked heroism, a mere energy of the M'ill, which knows how to
carry out a boundless desire in spite of all obstacles, and which,
even in succumbing, does not give up itself? Or, is morality that
which we measure with the barometer of criminal statistics? Or,
do we exhaust its conception by the predicates of honesty and
respectability? Do not these belong rather also to the appear-
ance, whereas morality relates to the motives, which prompt our
acts, or which prompt the personality of those — who otherwise
would be determined only by their education, habits, and tem-
perament — in spite of themselves? Hence, morality is rather a
filling of one's self with the contents of absolute life, a subjugation
of the innermost source of personality to a certain universal, in-
dependent validity and obligation, which is the same for, and
common to, all individual persons, in spite of their individuality ;
and which is, therefore, before and above them, w^ithin itself, and
points to an independent source, to an Absolute, to an absolute
Essence. Hence, in this quite general sense we must expressly
maintain the identity of morality and religiousness, and we can
say now that, when we expressly disi-egard every particular his-
torical form of religion, and every single philosophically thinkable
or historically factical development, and mediating form thereof,

Faith and Knowledge. 51

the validity of a faith is altogetlier determined by its relation to
the Moral — that is, to the universal Religious. But even taking
the Moral by itcelf— and comprehending it less in its innermost
essence — we have already a standard measure for the truth of any
view of the world. And such a view, wherein the result may
certainly be veiled, but which, if carried out actually, would end
in moral inditierence or positive immorality, is unquestionably
condemned by that very fact, no matter how it may bribe by its
probability.

I maintain, therefore, in this sense, that that Gcience has the bet-
ter right, and is entitled to claim it, which is in its spirit the most
religious and can maintain itself in its results before the judgment
of common morality. But when I say " the most religious," I do
not mean a repeating of everything that has been written of and
is generally accepted or ])racticed as religion. On the contrary, I
am of the opinion that the more certain we feel of a niatter, the
more free we are of its accidental appearance. Xor do I mean by
it the worship of a supermundane God, but generally a disposition
to think in the most sublime manner the ground as well as the
becoming and the essence of the world. But if I perchance wor-
ship a supermundane God, I do so — let the other mediations
through which I arrived at this worship be what they may — only
throuo;h faith ; that is, throuijh the before-mentioned conscious and
free life-act of my personality.

The whole natural position of cognition is moved out of place
whenever we try to make reflective knowing the only source of
all certainty and all peculiar cognition. The proof of reflection
always presupposes and includes the inner certitude of faith. But
this faith, this immediate taking hold by means of sensation,
although it contains the subject-matter itself, contains it, after all,
only in its undecided generality. Hence, if we desire to know it
in its particularity and separate moments, we are necessarily
driven into the path of common understanding, and must make
use of it as a means for our purpose. And if we now follow
further that immediate certitude in faith, nothing else will remain
to us within that region to make us certain of the particuhir and
separate moments in our cognition than the conclusive proof in
independent thinking and the agreement of experience. For, as
little as we ought to allow ourselves to be persuaded of the truth

52 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

of a subject b}" mere hearsay or authority, even so little is it
proper for man — and can it result in peculiar and personal cogni-
tion — to accept as something external whatsoever develops itself
particularly or connects itself with that subject in his knowledge
— in his full conviction of the certitude of the subject. In truth,,
the essence of cognition is to be found only when we think out
from one independent beginning the whole particular and sepa-
rate contents of the subject to the end. Here, therefore, and
here alone, the saying is true : credo quia intelligo / not intelligo
quia credo. These maxims have both their full validity, each
in its place. I must believe the subject in order to bo able
to comprehend it ; but what particular and separate moments
it may contain, of that I can believe only so much as I com-
prehend.

Let us consider the contradictory conditions that attach to
knowledge, the one-sidedness of thought, which always sees at one
time only one part of the whole, and is inclined to believe that
part to be the whole, and the mere externality of things, which is
all that the things really present to the examination of knowledge ;
let us consider how the certain results, of which the honest scien-
tific investigator boasted at one time, became tottering again on
the next occasion, or turn out to be only relatively valid and cor-
rect ; let us consider the whole character of knowledge, which i&
that of progress, of approximation, and which — as well on account
of the inexhaustible nature of experience as by reason of the sub-
jective inclination of man, and, finally, also by reason of the mere
mediateness to which knowledge is confined — permits it to arrive
at the subject-matter itself only through a series of conclusions;,
let us consider, further, the infinite possibilities and thinkabilities
which offer themselves as well in the way of an a priori reason as
by the glittering character of the empirical material; and, finally,
let us reflect on the feelings of the proud systematician himself,,
and ask him whether he does not secretly ask himself daily, upon
reviewing his worshipped constructions : After all, are they really
true? I say, let us consider all this, and we shall see the folly of
endeavoring to make abstract, or empirical knowledge the only
basis of life. In these days of ours we run after an ideal, and
persuade ourselves that we can surely attain it, although in truth
it is purely Utopian. By the division of labor, in the face of an

Faith and Knowledge. 53

infinite amount of detail, men expect finally to gain that perfec-
tion and freedom from error which they have missed hitherto so
sorely. But they forget that the detail is really infinite, and,
above all, that it is a matter of subjective apprehension, of which
the relativity of all things human can never get rid. And, after
all, the essential, that is to say, everything, has already been de-
cided, and w^hat remains to be done is only to carry the matter
out to an end in all directions ; and, although this end appears as
yet and for itself ever so far removed, nobody will dream of post-
poning his conviction in regard to the fundamental principles and
their next essential consequences until that time— a clear proof of
the correctness of our assertion that in all great matters it is not
knowledge, but faith, which casts the decisive vote. But, apart
from that, let no one persuade himself that the thinkability and
probability of a view of life is decisive and determinative in re-
gard to a man's mode of thought and general conduct. For, if
such were the case, everything would become uncertain ; all our
supports would totter and break, and man's mind would become a
play of the waves and winds. Even like a rudderless boat, since
the honesty of conviction seems to command us to follow now this
and now the other probability, and to sacrifice the happiest and
most quieting faith for its sake. But life and history also have a
right, and an older right. To us it seems folly and unnatural to
make knowledge the only valid authority, as if only that were
true which some one man thinks.

Even in science the occupying of a particular stand-point from
principle cannot depend alone upon intellectual grounds (grounds
of reflection), and, in point of fact, does not so depend. But let
us look back from the events of to-day upon the course of history,
and witness how the humane character of man has been developed
and cultivated, and, if we shall then become convinced that we
have really made progress, we shall no longer hesitate to adopt
the moral and humane presuppositions, which are the basis of the
•consciousness of the cultured man in his present historical con-
ditionedness, as measures and criteria of our convictions. My
historical remarks have showm me even in Christianity a specific —
and by no means the least— progress of human culture and morals.
In whatever we are spiritually ahead of the ancients, we owe the
advance altogether to Christianity. The humanism at the close

54 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

of the last and the beginnino^ of the present century was a well-
justitied reaction ; for the Hellenism, from which it started, is an
essential and independent element of culture, which mankind
must on no account relinquish, though it also surely does not make
Christianity dispensable. But when that tendency of humanism
turned in later times hostile against Christianity, it destroyed the
roots of its own life. For, let folly and bad intentions in church-
dogma and cultus have changed Christianity ever so much for the
worse, we at least cannot refuse to recognize that it is also a
lever of culture; and to oppose it as such must, therefore, neces-
sarily influence the position which the opponent himself occupies
in the s})here of culture. Nor should it be foi'gotten that this
humanism owed Christianity that spicy taste which alone could
make it palatable to our days.

When Herder hears the spirit of harmony, the world-spirit, sing
his song of enchantment which " draws soul close to soul and heart
to heart," and when he closes thus :

" Enchained within one feeling,
We're one perennial All ;
In one chord gathered, pealing,
God's echo we recall" —

he seems to speak pantheistically, Spinoza-like ; but the Christian
idea of love has given to abstract pantheism the living glow and
active nerve. Even the opponents of Christianit}' stand under its
influence and adorn themselves with its gems. Even a Julian
had to adopt the policy of recommending the Christian love of
neighbor to his pagan subjects ; and who does not see that the
Stoic Epictetus and the Neo-platonist Hierokles, in his translation
of the golden sayings of Pythagoras, gathered the perfume of their
morality from Ciiristian education, or from the invisible influences
of Christianity. But let it be well observed that we have here to
deal, not with Christian church-dogmas, nor, indeed, with any
fixed opinions or assertions, but with the religious, moral, and
scientific by-taste, so to speak, which every person, who grows up
in the charmed circle of a Christian-Hellenic world, sucks in
with his mother's milk. This taste, this invisible tincture or fun-
damental tone, or rather this atmosphere of our higher culture^
ought to have some, and, in fact, a predominant, influence on our

Faith and Knowledge. 55

judgment, and point out to us the worth or worthlessness of scien-
tific standpoints in a decisive and directory manner.

Some one has said : '^ La conscience, n^ent elle pas plus que la
science f' Undoubtedly a moral-ideal sentiment— an ideal claim
of the soul of universally valid significance and harmonizing with
the nature of man and of humanity in an immediate manner — is
always to be preferred to an hypothesis of the understanding, so
far. as credibility is concerned. And all certainty in matters of
principle is, after all, reducible to an inner sympathetic feeling,
which even the thinker must always rouse simultaneously with
his deductions if he wants to be sure of the growth and prospering
of his ideas on foreign soil. It requires more to believe in a proof
than merely to find it correct, more to give it credibility than the
quod erat demonstrandum. In the same way the acutest proofs,
the most imposing collections of dates, and their most cunning
combinations, are not able to shake hypotheses, which we assume
on principle, and of the truth of which we have a permanent
conviction in our mind, even though it should involve a modifica-
tion of the special, logical demonstrations thereof. Hypotheses
assumed on principle are independent of reasonings which belong
to logical demonstrations ; such assumptions coincide most closely
with our moral decisions. But they are on that account in no
way blind and wanting motives. It is a very dangerous error to
believe that only the reasoning of our understanding has univer-
sal validity, and that rationality and evidence are manifested only
in logical proof.

Another remark of the profoundest significance which arises
here is this: that it is not things or their outward perceptions
which form the views men have of them, but that it is man with
his universal and particular constitution who makes these views
through the things or their outward perceptions. These are merely
the substance, which receives it form — its specific significance —
from man.

We do not know whether this view was the basis of Kant's
" Critic of Pure Keason ; " at any rate, the consequences of Kant's
work will prove to be too far-reaching and unjustified. For this view
does not necessarily imply the necessity that, with the determining
influence of subjectivity, this subjectivity should lack all ohjectiveli/y
universally valid measure. As we have already shown up for the

56 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

particular individual or personal constitution, sucli universality in.
the religious-moral foundations of consciousness, we shall also
point out the same for the general and common understanding, or
reflection, of man in the categories which condition all intellec-
tual consciousness and all rational perception. On the other hand,
we find that Kant, who does not touch the personal matter at all,
and moves solely in the region of universality and abstraction,
looks upon the categories only as subjective determinations, and
thus repudiates an objective knowing, as not given to man. In
doing this he takes these categories, it is true, not from the uni-
versally accessible nature of consciousness and thinking, but from
the traditionary, artificial schematism of psychology and logic,
and hence they can claim no universal validity in his super-artificial
presentation. He goes no further than their historical existence,
and does not consider at all their natural organization and life-
movement. But this result cannot satisfy us at all ; it is, on the
contrary, as compared with empiricism, the other extreme ; and
this empiricism, which, in its lack of science and untruth, lifts up
its head every day more boldly and prefers every day more tyran-
nical claims, can be considered truly beaten only when we shall
be fortunate enough to find in the two extremes of criticism and
empiricism the happy mean, and discover in the all-determining
subjectivity, at the same time, the paths and transitions that lead
to the objective being of things. Thus, true science must in the
end show itself to be the higher and in itself existing unity of
criticism and empiricism.

KNOWLEDGE AND THE KELATIVITY OF FEELING.

BY JOHN DEWEY.

The doctrine of the Relativity of knowledge is one of the most
characteristic theories of modern thought. To many, indeed, it
seems the sum of all modern wisdom. That we cannot know
Being, but must confine ourselves to sequences among phenom-
ena — this appears to many the greatest achievement of thought:
a discovery M'hose full meaning it was reserved for the Nineteenth

Knowledge and the Relativity of Feeling. S7

Century to penetrate, and one which, if mastered, will put an end
to all the idle speculation M-hich is supposed to have disgraced the
philosophical thouo^ht of the past, and turn intellectual activity
into the fruitful fields of real knowledge.

The doctrine has been reached in at least four different ways,
and held by as many schools. There is the Positivist, who claims
to have reached the doctrine as the result of history, and not from
any system of Metaphysics, and who is among the loudest in pro-
claiming it the panacea for all ills which intellect is heir to.
There is the school who profess to have reached it from a philo-
sophical examination of thought itself, and to have found it in-
volved in " imbecilities " at every attempt to overstep phenomena—
the school whose chief representative is Hamilton, but more lately
given to calling up the greater shade of Kant to conjure by. Then
there is the Associationalfst, who, after Hume had made wreck of
Sensationalism by showing that its methods and presuppositions
left no basis for any objective knowledge — no, nor for objective ex-
istence either — had before him the sorry task of keeping the method
and yet avoiding the result. His instrument was the "association
of ideas," and by it he attempted to reach results compatible with
every-day thought and the established facts of physical science.
But to whatever extent he succeeded (and we are not concerned
with that question at present), he found himself confined within
the limits of his subjective capacity for association, and he, too,
took Relativity for his shibboleth.

But with the development of the theory of evolution arose a
school that wielded a mightier weapon. Here was an established
scientific theory which assumed objective existence, and also, in
one of its highest generalizations, included man, and showed that
he, and presumably his intellect and knowledge, had in the pro-
gress of the cycles been developed from these original existences
and forces. Here, then, is a theory which, in a certain form, may
■deny all creating and constructive thougnt, and consequently be
thoroughly sensationalistic. Furthermore, by extending indefi-
nitely the sphere and time of operations, it bridged the gaps and
strengthened the weak points of former sensationalism ; and, above
all, it postulated objective existence. Here, then, is a theory
which may satisfy the demands of physical science and of "com-
mon-sense" as to existence independent of subjective feeling; pay

58 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

a compliment to the former by adopting its metliods and results^
and at the same time forever silence all who claim that we have
absohite knowledge. For, notice liow this theory is also compelled
to assume the form of Relativity. According to it, in the form
we are considering, all knowledge is, through a nervous organism,
constructed throuo-h evolution from the lowest form of life, or
from matter. Accordingly, it must be conditioned by the state
and quality of the organism, and cannot represent or copy objec-
tive existence. It is therefore relative to the subject. But since,
according to the realistic assumptions of the theory, there is ob-
jective existence, this must remain forever unknown and unknow-
able. To know it would be possible only through the contradic-
tion of a feeling not relative to the subject. This, then, is the
position of that form of the doctrine of the Relativity of Knowl-
edge which is probably most widely influential at present. All
knowledge is derived from feeling ; feeling is conditioned upon
the existence of external objects, and expresses the way in which
the sentient subject is affected by them, and not what they are in
themselves. All knowledge is through feeling, and all feeling i&
relative. Such are its dogmas.

What we intend in this paper is to examine into the theory of
the Relativity of Knowledge in so far as it bases itself upon the
fact of the relativity of feeling to a subject. Were we to examine
it exhaustively in its relations to the theory of evolution, with
which in its fourth form it is connected, it would be necessary to
ask how the scientific theory of evolution, by hypothesis an exact
and correct statement of a universal law, is compatible with any
such supposed origin of knowledge. But we pass over this for
the present, and will inquire simply into the mutual relations of
the two parts of any sensationalistic theory of the relativity of
knowledge.

That we may have the work thoroughly before us, it must be
noticed, first, that Relative here signifies subjective as opposed
to objective, phenomenal as opposed to ontological. It denotes
an imperfection of thought, not its essence. Secondly, this theory
in its present form is not a psychological theory. It does not
simply state certain facts regarding the method in which we get
to know the world, but claims to be a Philosophy, and so gives
epistemological conclusions regarding the knowableness of Being,,

Knowledge a/tid the Relativity of Feeling. 5^

and, therefore, ontological conclusions regarding the nature of
Being, viz., that it is unrelated to Thought.

Plausible as the theory seems at first sight, by reason of its sup-
posed basis in well-established scientific facts, it is impossible, upon
further reflection, to suppress certain questionings. These formu-
late themselves as follows: How is it possible to assume at the
same time the truth of the sensationalist hypothesis and that of
the Relativity of Feeling? Are these two doctrines ultimately
reconcilable ? Does not the possibility of knowing the relativity
of our feelings imply an element in knowledge besides these feel-
ings? Could a merely feeling consciousness ever arrive at the
knowledge that there were objects as referred to which its feelings
were purely relative ? In a word : Can a consciousness made up
exclusively of feelings which are ex hypothesi relative ever tran-
scend this relativity, and make assertions regarding an absolute
object as referred to which alone they could be termed relative?

What I wish to present is some suggestions in answer of this
question ; and incidentally, if possible, to throw some light upon
the ultimate ontological bearings of any theory of the relativity
of feeling.

It is to be noticed, first, that this theory assumes that there ib
an absolute object or objects. There can be no relative except aa
referred to an Absolute. It is only by assuming that there is
something Non-relative that we can know our feelings to be rela-
tive. Relative and absolute are correlate terms, and one without
the other is meaningless, or rather impossible. Were it not
postulated that there is a Non-relative existence as referred to
which our present actual feelings a7'e relative, it is evident that
the feelings themselves would be the ultimate and absolute, thus
contradicting the hypothesis. There is no need to occupy space
in stating these truisms, for, besides their self-evident character,
they are admitted, or rather claimed, by the chief modern repre-
sentative of the doctrine we are examining. Says Mr. Spencer :
" The proposition, that whatever we feel has an existence which is
relative to ourselves only, cannot be proved, nay, cannot even be
intelligibly expressed, without asserting directly, or by implica-
tion, an external existence which is not relative to ourselves."
. . . The hypothesis "that the active antecedents of each primary
feeling exist independently of consciousness is the only thinkable

•60 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

one. It is the one implicitly asserted in the very proposition that
feelings are relative to our own nature, and it is taken for granted
in every step of every argument by which the proposition is
proved" (Spencer, "Principles of Psychology," vol. i, pp. 209,
^10). And, again : " More certain than the relativity of relations,
as we conceive them, is the existence of non-relative forms to
which they refer; since proof of the tirst involves perpetual as-
sumption of the last " (Ibid., p. 227).

It being admitted, then, that knowledge of the relativity of
feeling implies knowledge of a non-relative existence, the question
arises as to the compatibility of this position with the theory it
accompanies, viz., that all knowledge is derived from feeling. Is
it logically possible to hold that all knowledge comes from feeling,
and yet that there is knowledge of the existence of an Absolute?
Rather, does not one position exclude the other? We will put
the case in its simplest form. Either there is knowledge of some-
thing JSTon-relative or there is not. If the latter be the case, then,
as we have already seen, the relativity of feeling could never be
known, nay, the question as to its relativity could never have
occurred to consciousness. The former alternative is the one
adopted. We must admit that there is knowledge of the existence
of an absolute object. But how is this knowledge obtained ? Since
all knowledge comes from feeling, this must also. In other words,
since sensation-knowledge we must have sensation that there is
an absolute existence. But on this theory (that every feeling is
relative) an absolute sensation is a contradiction in terms. We
may give up the sensationalist hypotiiesis, and, admitting that we
have knowledge not derived from feeling (viz., that an Absolute
exists), hold that feeling is relative. Or we may give up the
Relativity theory and hold, so far at least as this point is con-
cerned, that Sensationalism is true. But to attempt to hold them
together is suicidal. If all our knowledge comes from feeling,
since we can never have a feeling of the absolute object, we never
can have knowledge of it ; and we cannot have a feeling of it,
since, by the theory, the absolute is precisely that which is not
conditioned by feeling. Or, on the other hand, if we know that
all feeling is relative, we do know that there is an absolute ob-
ject, and hence have knowledge not derived from sensation. When
these alternatives are once fairly faced, it will be seen that one or

Knowledge and the Relativity of Feeling. 61

the other must be definitely adopted. Both cannot be accepted.
To attempt it is to sliow that neither position is understood.

Such is the fact. The reason for it is not far to seek. Bv the
sensationalist hypothesis, we know only our feelings; accordiinr to
the relativity theory, we must know the relation of our feelhigs
to an object ; this the feelings cannot give, except by transcend-
ing their relativity— except, in short, by ceasing to be feelings.
Hume showed once for all that if the sensationalist presuppositions
be adopted, the "perceptions" themselves were ultimate and final,
and that any supposed reference of them to an object is a fiction
to be accounted for as best may be.

An examination of the method by which Mr. Spencer attempts
to unite with his sensationalism the position that the existence of
an Absolute is known will confirm us in the conclusions just
drawn, for we shall see that the best which he can offer is a vir-
tual surrender. His argument was substantially given in the
passages cited from him, and is similar to that given in the First
Principles for the existence of an absolute object in general.
Briefly, it is as follows : " Tiie existence of a Non-relative is un-
avoidably asserted in every chain of reasoning by which relativity
is proved." This is apparently offered as a serious argument in
proof of the existence of an absolute object ; at least it is all that
is offered. Its worth may be made evident by a parallel example.
To prove A, we must assume B ; by its assumption A is proved.
But B is involved in the proof of A; therefore B is also proved.
It is evident, or ought to be, that we have here no proof of the
existence of either A or B, of the Relative or Non-relative, but
simply that there can be no A without B, no Relative without an
Absolute — an undoubted fact, but one which leaves the existence
of either in as much doubt as before. In truth, it is not a solution
of the difficulty, but a statement of it. It says that unless there
be an absolute object, our feelings cannot be known as relative ;
while the question is precisely how is this absolute object known.
Mr. Spencer's legitimate conclusions from his argument are either
that there is no absolute object, and hence the feelings are not
relative, or we do know they are relative, and hence know that
there is an absolute object, and have knowledge which is not rela-
tive. To attempt, as he does, to prove the existence of one from
the assumed existence of the other is to reason in a circle. It can

62 The Journal of Speculatwe Philosophy.

not be that we know there is a I^on-relative because we know that
our feelings are relative, for the latter point is just the one in
question, and cannot be proved, as Mr. Spencer himself shows,
without assumption of the former. The knowledge of the exist-
exce of the Relative cannot be made to depend upon the assump-
tion of a Non-relative, and knowledge of the existence of the Non-
relative upon that of the Relative, at one and the same time. But
it is only by this most illogical procedure that Mr, Spencer gets
the Absolute, which, as he recognizes, is necessary to the proof of
the relativity hypothesis.

We conclude, then, that we are justified in reasserting our
original statement. To know that our sensations are relative, we
must know that there is an Absolute, To know that there is an
Absolute is, on the sensationalist hypothesis, to assert the contra-
dictio in adjecto of an absolute feeling, or else to reason in the
wholly illegitimate manner just examined. Hence, the two posi-
tions of Sensationalism and Relativity of sensations are wholly
irreconcilable.

So far we have confined ourselves to the simplest assumption of
these theories as conjoined — the assumption that there is an abso-
lute object or objects. We have not concerned ourselves with the
question. What is this absolute object ? Tiiis, however, can no
longer be kept in the background. Even admitting what we have
seen it impossible to admit on the hypothesis that we have knowl-
edge of the existence of a Non-relative, we have yet to decide
whether the relativity of feeling can be proved without knowing
ivhat this Non-relative is. Tiie sensationalist must hold, of course,
that it can be. To hold that sensations can tell us what an abso-
lute existence is, is a contradiction even greater (if there be de-
grees in contradiction) than the one we have just seen the theory
involved in. And so we find that the absolute object is for Mr.
Sj)encer beyond consciousness, independent of consciousness, un-
knowable. In fact, Absolute and non-relativeness to consciousness
are synonymous terms with him and the Sensationalists generally.
'Our question, therefore, is : Can we prove the relativity of feelings
on the hypothesis that they are relative to an unknown something
by reference of them to something out of and independent of con-
.sciousness ?

In reply, we ask the following questions : 1. Is it possible to

Knoviledge and the Relativity of Feeling. 03

If now that something is, if we have absolutely no knowledge what
that something is ? Can we know that an Absolute is, if we don't
know what Absolute means ? 2. Is it possible to know the exist-
ence of anything which is ex hypothesi out of relation to con-
sciousness, and, further, know that this is the Absolute ? 3. Is it
possible to refer the whole content of consciousness to something
which is beyond consciousness? Since the relative is so only as
referred to an Absolute, can such a ratio between that which is in
consciousness and that which is out of it be discovered as to de-
monstrate the relative character of the former ? All these ques-
tions must, I conceive, be answered in the negative. As to the
first, the predication of existence of an Unknowable seems to he a
psychological impossibility. If there be any meaning in the asser-
tion that X is, I confess I cannot see it. When it is said that
something is, it is meant that something is. The predication must
be of something; it cannot be of a pure Non-entity, like the Un-
knowable, The subject must mean something ^before it can be
said either to be or not to be, or have any other intelligible pro-
position regarding it made. And so, as matter of fact, it is only
as Mr. Spencer identifies his Unknowable with an Absolute, and
thus takes advantage of the popular connotations of the word,
that he is able to say that the Unknowable is ; it is only as he
smuggles some degree of qualification, however slight, into the
subject that he can make it the subject of a proposition.

The question as to the possibility of knowledge of anything be-
jond consciousness, while presenting, since unknowable, the same
difficulties to an affirmative answer as the question just considered,
must, in addition, be answered negatively, on grounds of self-con-
sistency. To say that something beyond consciousness is known
to exist, is merely to say that the same thing is and is not in con-
sciousness. Its special characteristic is to be out of consciousness ;
but, so far as it is known to exist, it is in and for consciousness.
To suppose otherwise is to suppose that consciousness can in some
way get outside of or "beyond" itself, and be conscious of that
which is not in consciousness — a proposition as absurd as that a
man can stand on his own shoulders, or outstrip his shadow.

If we go further and give to the Absolute any positive signifi-
cation, if it becomes anything more than the blank negation of all
•determinate relations, the bare i«, which nevertheless is a qualiti-

64 TJie Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

cation by thought, we are only adding further relations to con-
sciousness ; we are only qualifying it further by thought relations^
Can the theory we are examining avoid such determinations ?
This brings us to our third question : Can a mere a?, an absolutely
unrelated object, afford us any ground for asserting the relativity
of specific objects in consciousness as they actually exist ? If the
absolute object is entirely out of relation to consciousness, it cer-
tainly cannot be related to feelings, the supposed content of con-
sciousness. Even were it granted that we could know the exist-
ence of an unknowable object and know that it was absolute, we
should not be justified in saying that our actual feelings were rela-
tive ; to effect this, the Absolute must be brought into specific
relations with specific feelings. As long as its sole characteristic
is unrelatedness to consciousness, it and the content of conscious-
ness have nothing to do with each other ; and to make one the
ground of asserting anything regarding the real nature of the
other is absurd. Indeed, not only must specific relations between
the object and feelings be asserted, but we find as matter of fact
at least one such implicitly posited, viz., that of cause and effect.
The absolute object is the cause, the feeling is the effect. Now,
remember that by this same theory all knowledge comes from
feeling, and then ask how is it possible for the feeling conscious-
ness to know this relation. At most, sensationalism can mean by
causation regular succession of feelings ; but the characteristics of
the supposed cause in this case are precisely' that it is not a feel-
ing, and (since it is unknowable) that the succession has never
been once observed, but it is only by making this self-destructive
assuniption that the theory can get the slightest footing.

We conclude on this point, therefore, that, to prove the Rela-
tivity of Feeling, it must be assumed that there is an absolute
object ; that this object must be in consciousness, and specifically
related to the content of consciousness, and that these relations
cannot be in the way of feeling. We must know that there is
such an object; we must know what it is, and the what must
consist in its relation to thought. Perhaps a method of stating
this conclusion which would appear less formal, though not less
expressive of the difficulty, would be to say that whatever is ex-
plained must be explained by reference to the known and not the
unknown. Even were it admitted, e. g.^ that the cause of our

Knoidedge and the Relativity of Feeling. 65

feelings and that force \\a,VQ some transcendental existence entirely
unrelated to ourselves and eritirely unknown, it would not be by
such unknowns that the relative character of our present feelings
could be shown. To show or to explain is to bring the thing into
relation with something known. Explanation of the unknown by
the known, not of the known by the unknown, is the order of
science.

An examination of the specific feelings which are said to be
relative to the subject will both bring this point into clearer lii^ht,
and reveal in what, positively, their relativity does consist. In a
concrete case : Why is the feeling of color as given in immediate
consciousness said to be relative? Is the knowledge that it is
such obtained by reference to a known or an unknown object ?
The question thus put answers itself. The sensation of color is
said to be relative to ourselves because it is known to be dependent
upon vibrations of ether and the retinal structure of the eye. It is
merely the relation between these two as given in consciousness.
Unless I know that there is such a retinal structure and such
waves, or something corresponding to them, it is absurd to speak
of the feeling of color as relative. It is only because I may know
what light is as objective that I may know that what it seisms to
be in feeling is relative and subjective. And so with sound and
taste. The subjectivit}'^ of taste, e. g., means that in the object
unrelated to a nervous organism there is such and such a physical
or chemical structure, and that the sensation of taste is the relation
between that structure and a corresDCjudins; organic structure.
Clearly, then, our knowledge of subjectivity or relativity depends
upon knowledge of something objective. But it must be especially
noticed that this something objective is not given in feeling, and,
therefore, is not relative to sense. These objects — the waves of
ether, the structure of the retina, etc. — are not themselves feel-
ings, and never have been : were they feel'ngs, there wuuld be no
reason to assert the relative character of the feelings following
upon them. Consequently, if it should be said that these so-called
objects, the vibrations, etc., although not tiiemselves feelings, yet
have meaning attached to them only in so far as they represent
possibilities of feeling — and mean only that under certain con-
ditions they would become feelings, and that even now they
possess signification only as symbolized by actual sensations— the
XVII- 5

6Q The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

answer is ready. But, before giving it, we will state the objection
more fnllj. It may be said that the objects we have supposed, the
vibrations, etc., are, as known, themselves conditioned by the affec-
tion of the nervous oi'ganism through some other objsct, and so on
indeiinitely, so that, after all, our knowledge of them is entirely
relative.

But any such objection, to be of value, must hold that tliis pro-
cess goes on ad infinitum, as otherwise there would be soujething
known not through feeling, and, therefore, not relative. But if it
does go on ad infinitum, it is clear that we fall into our original
difficulty: nothing will ever be known except the immediate feel-
ings, and to refer them to anything existing out of or beyond
themselves will be impossible. The mere fact that one feeling is
the antecedent of another could never give any reason for assert-
ing that that feeling was relative in comparison with an unknown
object. To suppose that it could, is to suppose that a feeling may
transcend its own relativity. Therefore, on this theory of the
infinite regress, it can never be known that there is an absolute
object, and, therefore, immediately present feelings can never be
referred to such an object ; i. e., can never be known to be rela-
tive. They become themselves absolute and absolutely known.

We conclude, therefore, that to prove the relativity of feeling
is impossible without assuming that there are objects which are
knov.-n not through feeling. In short, Sensationalism and the
Kelativiry hj'pothesis again prove themselves utterly incompatible.
The theory of the relativity of feeling, therefore, is so far from
proving the subjectivity of our knowledge that it is impossible,
except upon a theory which assumes that we do have objective
knovvledire.

The removal of a possible migapprehcnsion and an objection are
needed to complete the discussion of this point. It will perhaps
be said that, since the relativity of feeling v,'as known ]o::g before
there was knowledge of what the objects really were, and that
since now it is possible or probable, in some cases, that we do not
really know the objective order, our account cannot be correct.
But it must be noticed that this account does not depend for its
correctness upon the question whether objects are really what we
think they are, but simply upon the question whether the theory
of the Relativity of Feeling does not assume and require that it is

Knowledge and the Relativity of Feeling. 67

possihle to so know them. And this question is implicitly an-
swered in the affirmative in this very objection ; for, if our present
knowledge is incorrect, this can be shown only by reference to an
established objective order to which, by greater knowledge, it shall
be shown that our present theories do not correspond.

Or, again, it may be said our account is incorrect, because the
real reason for calling a feeling relative is not because we have any
knowledge of the object as referred to which it is relative, but sim-
ply because under the same objective conditions different persons
have different sensations, or even the same person at different
times. But nothing is gained by this change in expression, since
it assumes that there are permanent objective conditions, which
must be known. For the two differing feelings are either known
to refer to the same object or they are not. If not, all ground for
calling them relative disappears. But, if they are, of course this
object must be known. By any method of stating the theory, it
wnll be found impossible to avoid reference to a known order ob-
■jectively existing. In this connection it may iiot be without in-
terest to quote Mr. Spencer's summary of the theory as admitting
implicitly, though unconsciously, just this point. He says: "The
quality and the quantity of the sensation produced by a given
amount of a given external force vary not only with the structure
of the organism, specific and individual, as well as the structure
of the part affected, but also with the age, the constitutional state
of the part as modified by temperature, circulation, and previous
use, and even with the relative motion of subject and object."
"What we desire to call attention to are the two admissions or claims
which he makes, all unconscious of their bearing upon his thetny.
(1) That there is objectively " a given amount of a given force; "
and (2) that some nine objectively existing causes of the modifi-
cation of this force as given in feeling can he shown. In short, it
is assum.ed that there is an objective force, the kind and amount
of which is known, and that the causes which produce the varia-
tions of this in immediate feeling can be shown, and, consequently,
eliminated.

So far, our conclusions as to the relation of the theory of Rela-
tivity of Feeling to the theory of knowledge have been negative,
and consisted in pointing out that it was not consistent with Sen-
sationalism. But we are now prepared to draw a positive conclu-

68 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

sion and cay that the real meaning of the theory of Eelativity
of Feeling is that a feeling is a specific determinate relation or
reaction given in consciousness between two bodies, one a sensi-
tive, the other a non-sensitive object. It is possible to hold it,
therefore, only in conjunction with a theory which allows knowl-
edge of these objects ; furthermore, since we have knowledge of
these objective conditions, the knowledge of their relation as given
in feeling, though relative indeed to the subject, is not for that
reason a detraction from our knowledge of objects, but rather an
addition. One certainly cannot see a priori any reason why the
knowledge of the reactions of, say gold, in the presence of an acid
should be an interesting addition to our knowledge of these sub-
stances, while the knowledge of its relation to a sensitive organ-
ism as given in feeling should be a deprivation of real knowledge.
Except upon the theory that the real nature of things is their na-
ture out of relation to everything, knowledge of the mode of re-
lation between an object and an organism is just as much genuine
knowledge as knowledge of its physical and chemical properties,
which in turn are only its relations.

Leaving the subject of feelings, we come to that of relations be-
tween feelings which it has also been attempted to demonstrate to
be purely relative to the subject, giving no knowledge of objective
relations. There is no reason to draw upon the patience of read-
ers to examine this view. It is subject to all the difiiculties which
we have made out against the like theory regarding feelings, besides
laboring under the additional ditiiculty of having to show that
these relations are themselves naught but feelings. Since we have
already shown that the relativity of feelings to the subject cannot
be proved without assuming objective relations, the case stands, a
fortiori^ against any such attempt as the present. There is also a
self-contradiction in the theory so glaring that it might well have
made any one pause who was not so mastered by the presupposi-
tions of his system as to be blind to the rules of ordinary logic.
Sensationalism must and does hold that all relations are reducible
to feelinocs; ai-e themselves, indeed, but kinds of feeling. Bit the
theory of relativity supposes a relation between the subjective
feeling and the unknown object which is the absolute. But, ac-
cording to Sensationalism, this relation must be a feeling. Hence
nothing exists but feelings, and relativity is a myth ! If there be

Knowledge and the Relativity of Feeling. 69

no real relations, there can be no relativity; and, conversely, to
say that feelings are realhj relative is to say that a relation really
and objectively is, and is known. But to say this is to abandon
the position that relation is a kind of feeling, and thereby to aban-
don Sensationalism. Tiie fact that the two positions are so often
held in conjunction is only evidence of how slightly the real mean-
ing of either is grasped.

We summarize our results as follows: The doctrine of the rela-
tivity of feeling is incompatible with Sensationalism, and is so for
two reasons. First, Sensationalism can never give knowledge of
the sine qua nan of the Relativity theory: the existence of an ab-
solute object. For the very reason that sensation is relative to the
subject, it can never transcend that relativity and make assertions
regarding something absolute. Secondly, even if the existence of
the absolute object were assured, feeling qua feeling can never
demonstrate its own relativity. The Absolute here as an unknown
Universal can never be known to be the Absolute which consti-
tutes the relativity of the present content of consciousness. The
feelings must be definitely referred to that absolute object. For
feeling itself to make any such reference assumes that it can tran-
scend its relativity, and know not only an absolute object, but
what it is and what relations subsist between the two.

But if this knowledge of the existence of an absolute object and
of its determinate relations is not given by feeling, we are justi-
fied in saying that it is given l)y a consciousness which by its
relations determines the object. For, as we have shown that these
objects must be related to consciousness, and cannot be related in
the way of feeling, what they can be except as determined and
constituted by relations of this consciousness it is not easy to see.
Since a feeling can be known as relative only when referred to an
object, this object cannot be a feeling, nor constituted by a feeling.
The object must, then, be relative to a tlJnking consciousness.

There are two points which every theory of the Relativity of
Feeling must include and explain : {a) In what does the relative
character of the feelings consist ? {h) What is the nature of the
correlate absolute? The sensationalist hypothesis breaks down, as
we have seen, at both these points. But our present theory, that
relativity consists in a specific ratio between a sensitive and a non-
sensitive object, which are constituted by relations to eelf-con-

70 The Journal of Sjoeculative Philosophy.

sciousness, proves itself, I think, amply adequate. Since relativ-
ity, according to it, consists not in relation to a nervous organism,
but to consciousness, the possibility of knowledge is provided for.
And, on the other hand, since tliis self-consciousness is the ground
and source of relations, it cannot be subject to them. It is itself
the true Absolute, then. This does not mean that it is the Unre-
lated, but that it is not conditioned by those conditions which de-
termine its objects. Thus, we are saved the absurdity of believing
in a relative which has no correlate absolute.

We have thus considered the theory of the Relativity of Knowl-
edge in that form where it unites itself with and bases itself upon
feeling. The reader may see for himself how large a portion
of it would also apply to any theory ot the Relativity of Knowl-
edge. In closing, we must repeat the caution with which we
began : that we are not dealing with the theory of relativity of
feeling as a psychological theory. The correctness of the theory
is undoubted. The philosophical interpretation of it is the point
in question. Its conditions and implications need development,
and we have attempted to show that when they are developed the
theory is compatible neither with Sensationalism, nor with Sub-
jectivism, nor with Agnosticism ; that it is compatible only with
a theory which admits the constitutive power of Thought, as itself
ultimate Being, determining objects.

PRIMEVAL MAN.

BY ELIZABETH PALMER PEABODT.

This paper, the resume of some thirty years of my own studies
into Historical Origins, was written as long ago as 1854 ; before
I had read Bunsen's " Antiquarian Researches," which I found,
waeti 1 did read thein, in 1860, confirmed with astronomical, philo-
logical, and physiological facts, and with the ornamentation of
the most ancient njonumeuts, as well as with collation and criti-
cism of the oldest written documents, the theory of a primeval
civilization, long antedating what had been considered, hitherto,
the beginning of human history.

Primeval Man. Yl

And, of course, it was written prior to the recent ecientific
theories of the " Origin of Species " and " Descent of Man." But
the acceptance of ths theory of the evohition of the human body
ont of star-dnst, through all lower animal forms, till it reached
the human shape (perhaps in the faun, wliich may have been his-
torical !), does not at all invalidate the arguments on which is
founded my theory of the Primeval Man. As a Spirit of Reason,
communing fully with his kind in love, and comprehending na-
ture l)V. intuition, I submit that the " Imao-e of God" is not ma-
terial, and must be sought and found, not by physiological but by
historical research. Of course, man could not appear on earth till
an organization had been developed or evolved adequate to be a
perfect instrumentality of the Spirit. J. J. "Garth Wilkinson, in
his work entitled "The Human Body in its Relation with Man,"
has illustrated by the physiology what I attempt to illustrate by
the history of humanity. For, as Mr. Emerson has sung, even
the fragmentary history that we have is sufficient to show to an
earnest, reflective mind that

"Deep love lietli under
The pictures of time,
That/aofe in the light

Of their meaning sublime.''''

The earliest traditions declare the unity of the human race, not
merely by referring man, bodily, to one progenitor (of M'hich there
is reasonable dispute), but by referring civilization to one law-
givei".

Considering the names of the primeval law-givers, to which each
great race goes back (the Aryan Manu, the Indian Ifetm, the
Egyptian Menes, the Lydian Maeon, the Etruscan Manus, the
German Ma7i, and the radical syllable min, found in declining
the Latin homo, and in Minerva, the name of the Roman goddess
of wisdom), we find the old root, mn (the liquid m expressing the
meetino-, and the n negating the limit, of phenomena). Man, cty-
inologically, means the consciously meaning creature expressing
himself by the symbolic organs of speech, the oldest and character-
istic creation of man being significant articulate speech— and if
the sensuous genius of the Aramaean language named man from
his body {Adam—Fdom—vedi earth), because, characteristically,

72 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

they considered the phenomenon first ; jet his spiritual being was
not left unrepresented in the Hebrew Genesis. For not only in
Chapter First is he declared the conscious sovereign of the earth,
and of all that there is tlierein, but in Chapter Second it is said
that "the Lord God brought to Adam all creatures to be named,
and the name that he gave them was the name thereof" — a state-
ment which can symbolize nothing less than that man, having
appeared on earth in full physical development, unhindered by
inheritance of physical evil (wliich is always the consequence of
moral disorder or negligence), not only received on his healthy
sensorium perfect impressions of nature's particulars, but his un-
spoiled brain was in that perfect state for intuitive perception,
classification, and all other mental action,' of which we have par-
tial example in every great original genius, whose proper action
is always to name correctly sensuous things, and their relations to
the whole, of which he has mystic knowledge in his sense of per-
sonal identity; that the name the primeval man gave to every-
thing brought before him " was the name thereof^'' — -that Ib, it
expressed its nature and attributes; in short, articulate, signifi-
cant language was the first creation of man, and the special wit-
ness of his intellectual entity. Exj)ression was coeval with Im-
pression, or Speech followed hard on Perception.

That man did appear on earth, not only in physical and intel-
lectual power, but morally free to good and evil, is patent, in that
lie was, as we have already said, and as all ancient tradition recog-
nizes, primevally, the law-giver. And in justifying the assertion
that the names of the most ancient law-givers point to, or imply
the first social organism, rather than an individual, it may be in
point to cite the fact that in ancient Egypt all the wisdom gath-
ered in the ages, by whomsoever committed to writing, went to
make one book, called the " Book of Hermes," whence, in process
of time, came the conception of the Egyptian god Hermes, in-
spirer of all wisdom. For that " all scripture came by inspira-
tion of God " was an ancient proverb, expressing not the faitli of
the Hebrews alone, though their characteristic conception oi Law^
as concrete in one H0I3' persona personarum, made their symbol

' See Frances Power Cobbe's " Intuitive Morals," and F. D. Maurice's " Conscience,"
for the later recognition of this truth.

Primeval Man. 73

of the self-revelation of the Divine Spirit always to be human
historj.

The name of the Hebrews' God, Jehovah, was composed of the
three tenses of the verb to le—'' was^ "i?," ''shall Je"— which
happily expresses the idea of Eternity, and, to the moral sense,
means The Promisee. (" As it was in the beginning, is now, and
ever shall be," is the grand intuition of Primeval Humanity, seal-
ing it as the Eternal Son of God.) It is precisely because only
the expression of Truth and Good, which is symbolized by man
in his social unity, can touch the sensibilities of all men, from
zenith to nadir, that the Hebrew scriptures interest the heart and
command the imagination of more varieties of race than do the
sacred books of any other nation.

For only the few of any race or age, by a process of introver-
sion, abstract the idea of Divinity. The mass of men, whether
barbarous or civilized, are interested by nothing less than a story
of social interaction ; and they are so quick to infer a Divine fac-
tor in history, because every man personally realizes the need of
Divine to supply the shortcomings of human Causality and
Ideality.

In short, it is because men, considered in solidarity, can alone
become the image of God, that the adequate form of a Revelation
of God must needs be the total of human history.

It matters not, indeed, whether we consider as an Idea expressed
in apologue merely, or as historical fact, that old tradition which
(whether it appears as the Eden of the Hebrews, the Egyptian
kingdom of Osiris, the Persian kingdom of Ormuzd, the Golden
Age of ancient Europe, or the long reign of gods before men,
lying back of the Chinese and Indian histories) always symbolizes
the one general truth — that the race began as one social organ-
ism ; all variety of human individuality harmonized into Wisdom
and Power, by the recognized rule of a supreme self-conscious
being, infinitely good and wise, in parental relation with it, gen-
eratino;, and educatino: to regenerate it, forevermore.

The etymology of the ^^ox^^just and right (perfect pai-ticiples
of the Latin words for to command and to reign over\ and the
instinctive appropriation of them to the decisions of conscience,
point back to the same original fact of pure Theism as the lirst
religion of the human race, and the lirst principle of all govern-

T4 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

ment. Every degree of remorse (wliicli every individual feels
more or less, from his earliest days of reflection) implies the same
truth — namely, that man is " created upright," and begins his
career as the image and vicegerent of God/

That all nature is instrumentality for man ; and, to make society
a " communion of the just," his recognized and appointad duty is,
at once, the instinct of the heart, the ultimate truth of Keason,
and the oldest statement of history. (Gen. x, 9-17.)

It is this primeval fact (or Idea) of the Incarnation of God in
man which has had the effect, in Asia, to give any man, in whom
the supreme power is formally vested, the prestige of divinity.
Always, with Asiatics, the " powers that be " are reverenced as
divine. The "Great Emperor" of China, "Grand Lama" of
Thibet, " Indian Rajah," or whatever the title of the Oriental
ruler may be, is not the servant, but an incarnation of God (with
the one exception of the kings of Israel).

The salutation of Brahmin to Brahmin, though it be from aged
father to youthful son, still is, "to the divinity that is in you I do
homage." Even in its ruins, Asiatic society is thoroughly theo-
cratic. Hence the persistence of those majestic forms of social
and political life which lie like a ghastly mask on its shrunken
skeleton.

And it is this not yet entirely dead mysticism, on the borders
of Europe and Asia, upon which the demonic Czar Nicholas
knew how to play, and which gave to his assumption of divine
right by the Ukase a strange power over the Asiatic portion of
his subjects; while, on the other hand, it was simply ludicrous to
the western mind, whose extreme peculiarity is expressed by the
London "Punch"; and it inextricably pnzzled, or more or less
heavily imposed upon those nations, whose culture lies half-way
between tliese extremes, who talk of the divine right of kings
and infallibility of popes.

' Hence the great poet of the Ideal, in his Sphinx song :

" Ask on— thou clothed Eternity !

Time is the false reply."
And—

" Pride ruined the angels —
Their shame them restores ;
And the joy that is sweetest
Lurks in stings of remorse."

Primeval Man. 75

But thfire is another tradition of History, coeval with that of
the incarnation of God in man, wliich testifies to a fact only logi-
cally second to it: this is the Fall of Man from Paradise; the
death of Osiiis, torn to pieces hy the monster Typhoeus ; the in-
vasion of the kingdom of Ormuzd by Ahriman ; the silver, brazen,
and iron ages of ancient Europe that followed the golden age of
Saturn.

Whether these corresponding traditions point to Ideas constitu-
ting the uiiiid of man, or to historical facts on the social and po-
litical plane of the primeval civilization, they equally, with that
of the incarnation, symbolize the truth — that there is a Being of
whom the human race is an intellio;ent creature, endowed with
freedom to become, consciously, one with Him, no less than left
at liberty to rebel against Hiiu within a certain sjjJiere. Other-
wise the mind of man is a material slough, half conscious in de-
spair.

But that it is not the last is symbolized by a third tradition, in-
extricably mixed np with the two others in all their forms. With
i\\id curse and banishment from Paradise is linked, indissolubly,
the immortal hope of E.edem[)tion, which is found to be no less
universal if more or less clear in different civilizations.

It is said to Adam, in Genesis iii, that Eve's seed shall crush
the serpent of evil ; and to Abraham, in Genesis x, "In thy seed
shall all the families of the earth be blessed." Isis, the faithful
wife of Osiris, never ceases to seek the divided body of her be-
loved husband — [which, the fable says, Typhoeus buried all over
the earth] — that, bringing the pieces together, a house of life may
be made, to which he shall return to live and rule forevermore.
The Persian prophecy is, that Ormuzd shall in the end overcome
Ahrim-^n ; and, over Ciiaos, according to the the«)gony of Ilesiod
(whicli is really ill-remembered history), " Love, first born of Im-
mortals, rose."

Indeed, the Greek myths of Kedempiion are multitudinous.
Think of that wonderful story of Jupiter and Semele, where the
finite is destroyed by its irreverent desire to know God otherwise
than by worshipping him, humbly and gratefully— wherefore for
earthly beauty is given ashes, by Jupiter's coming in his unveiled
infinite majesty in answer to the incontinent human desire. But,
according to this fable, the divine spark of life, which the Infinite

76 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

has fathered and the Finite mothered, is saved in the thigh of
Jupiter (which seeins to be the emblem of" the activity of the
spirit in time); and, in due season, the man-child appears — a fiery
God, riding on the panther, and conquering India ; the stroke of
his thyr.sos turning the earth beneath into the grape, whose form
and streaming wine answer to the sun, with its streaming light —
showing that the earth and the heavens are alike symbols of the
one life, whose ineffable nature is YICTOE.Y !

Also, tliink of Prometheus (mind foreseeing), who, " benevo-
lent to man," warns his brother, Epimetheus (mind passive),
against receiving any gift whatever from Jnpiter, who, in that
oldest mythology^ always stands for the god of this world, in oppo-
sition to a sublimer Divinity. But the warning was in vain, for
forgetful Epimetheus "received" the consummate Pandora, who
straightway opened on him her casket, whence, to his dismay,
"flew human ills tlirough earth and air."' But here, also, is
found the Promise ; Hope was left prisoner of man by the quick-
falling cover!

Again, to Prometheus, chained by Jupiter for bringing fire
from heaven to man on eartli, comes at last the deliverer, Her-
cules, the genius of Labor, born of the God-like Will, and the all-
entrancing Beauty of the Grecian land, who brings to an end one
old era, and begins another.

To those who may object to all this, that it is Poetry, and not
History, we reply that we can afford to make the transference,
though we submit that it is a poetic form of History, by which
the Divine meaning of ages of human experimenting is distilled
into a convenient form for transmission and moral use. With
respect to the fact of man's first estate in physical and intellectual
uprightness, the historic fall, and the growing redemption of the.
race (a symbolic trilogy which integrates the triplicity of human
destiny), History is strong with her unquestionable monuments,
and is growing stronger as they are daily explored.

To say nothing of language, in which the early history of the
human mind is fossilized, and whicli at last is being studied sci-
entifically, stones, no more than figures, will lie. When man
builds his life into architectural masses like those of Egypt and

' See Flaxman's " Illustrations of Hesiod — Pandora opening her Box."

Primeval Man. 7Y

India, or moulds it into sculpture, as in the allegoric figures ot
Persia and Assyria, the colossi of Egypt, and the gods and heroes
of Greece and Rome, he makes that which he is-everlastin^ as
the hills : ^

" Earth proudly wears the Parthenon

As the best gem upon her zone ;

And morning opes with haste her lids

To gaze upon the Pyramids."

The monuments of the Elder World testify to what man has
been, known, and done, as cannot be gainsaid. We need but
slightly indicate what volume upon volume of antiquarian re-
search tells, in details which cannot be too considerately explored.
Even monumental architecture shows that, in early anti(piity,
men were organized to labor, and accomplished vast designs ; and
the laborers were not mere artisans, but creative artists, whose
culture (again) implies organized society.

The sculptures of those monuments that Heeren explored in
Egyptj Persia, and India, on which are brought together the in-
habitants of remote regions, prove an immense commerce.' We
see the nomads of Asia and Africa, reciprocally, on the architec-
tures of Egypt and Assyria. Tiiey are walking in processions in
Egypt, bearing tributes; they hold up, as caryatides, the thrones
of the old kings of Persia and Assyria. Costumes and manners
identify some of these figures with the Scythians of the North,
and the Ethiopian and Egytian nomads described by Herodotus;
for it is plain, on comparing his descriptions with accounts mod-
ern travellers give of the Tartaric and African tribes, that nomads
neither deteriorate nor improve in the lapse of -A^e^. Their otfice
seems to be to keep up the wild stock of the human i-ace, with a
protest against that subjection of one class of men to anotiier
which can only take place in any nation by some men's arro-
gating a divine right, which is, in fact, inherent in all, or in none.

On the temple- and palace-walls of Egypt and Assyria are
represented triumphal marches of conquerors, bringing as prison-
ers, at their chariot-wheels, multitudes of nations wiio wers linked
together by religion, politics, or commerce. Thj tributes brought
mingle the silks of China, the commodities of farther and hither

' Heeren's " Researches in Persia, Egypt, and India."

78 Tlie Journal of Sj^eculative Philosophy.

India, with gold and ivory borne on the hands of negroes from
Guinea, even so long ago!

The investigations of Landsecr into a species of monument,
found among the ruins of Babylon, whose architectures and sculp-
tures are destroyed, have poured unexpected light upon the his-
tory of the early ages. Cylinders of precious stone, carved with
more or less artistic skill, are picked up, even to this day, among
the ruins of Babylon, and are occasionally dug up in the Eastern
Continent, in places as distant from each other as Ireland and
China. They are small, but their great numbers can only be
accounted for by recalling the remark of Herodotus — that " every
Babylonian had a signet," They are, in short, horoscopes, wliich
were worn on the top of a staff, or on a string tied round the
neck. The aspects of the heavens are represented on them by
eml^lematic iigure?, which recall the astronomical science that,
as astrological myth, gave form to the popular religion of old
Babylon.

It is only the extensive commerce, which had one of its capitals
on the banks of the Euphrates, and another on the Nile, and em-
braced the isles of the sea, east and west, that can account for the
wide spread of many mythological stories, through which gleam
the sciences of Nature, especially astronomy; but which often
have a historic and metapliysical sense also, as if nations of ditfer-
ent genius had succsssively symbolized their thought, and even
history, by the sam.e figures. For, in process of time, these sig-
nets, being used as seals and pledges of faith in commerce, were
universally diffused in waxen semblances, each nation interpret-
ing the graven images according to its own ideas and traditions.

If, as Landseer seems to prove, these cylinders are referred to
in the Book of Job (xxxvii, 14), were legislated against by Moses
as gmven images,' and were the ground forms of many Gi'ccian
and Roman myths, the testimony they bear to the antiquity of a
general commerce, supporting and supported by an affiliated Pa-
ganism, is remarkable.

The unity of Paganism in its principle (which is the worship of

' It is noteworthy that Moses always says: "Thou shalt not have a graven imago
unto thjaclf^'' which is a perfect description of a Babylonian signet, every horoscope
beiog pecuhar to its owner. Such idols it was easy for Rachel to conceal by sitting on
them.

Primeval Man. 79

the Heavens and the Earth), and the interfusion of its rites and
ceremonies with the activities of commerce, was a widel v extended
fact in antiquity; but many European monuments bear a differ-
ent interpretation. Tliey consist of fragmentary Epics and Lyrics,
pointino; to an action of man antagonistic to religion and union
which the monuments of soutiiern Asia and northeastern Africa'
always presuppose; in short, they are redolent of a more lively
religious sentiment, in the iorm of Hero-worship.

In Europe, as elsewhere, the first rulers of men are said to have
been divine ; and European divinities are always of the human
form, which, instead of being disgraced, as in Asia, by allegoric
monstrosities, such as a hundred breasts, or a multitude of arms
or eyes, becomes, whenever it symbolizes the Divine, of Ideal
beauty.

The worship of human form culminated in Greece, where the
Titans, children of Heaven and Earth, seem to have had earliest
sway. Benjamin Constant shows that the reign of the Titans
represents a sacerdotal government, learned in the arts and
sciences, and by these very means tyrannizing over conquered
masses, foreclosing the freedom of new generations as they " came
upon the shores of being."

Sir William Jones's Dissertation upon "the identity of the
gods of India and Italy " affords a mass of evidence that the
sacerdotal governments of Asia and Africa extended, at an early
age, into Europe also ; else the identity he discovers is only to be
accounted for by supposing that vast emigrations went from some
central point of Asia, carrying their traditions of glory with them
to new localities, where they finally took root, and seemed, to
their posterity, indigenous; so that the ancient Italy was really a
reminiscence of India, and the golden reign of Saturn, perhaps, hut
another statement of the primeval organism of men in society.
For does not Saturn obviously stand for the ancient Time? Think
of his history : so Time devours all that it brings forth. Stupe-
fied into custom, it may at last mistake a stone for a living child,
let the stone only be cunningly swathed by the changeable Khea
(who personifies the flow of circumstance).

But the autocratic genius of political power, the Greek Zeus,
the good father, Eupater, Jupiter, being child of that one of the
Titans who had obtained sway over all the rest (for custom la

80 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

stronger than all other finite principles), when, like the rest of his
brethren, he is condemned to be devoured, indicates his descent
from Uranus (Heaven — this father's fatlier), and under that pro-
tectioi), by his mother Rhea's aid (as Ilesiod has told us), escapes
to Crete, and gets educated by the priests of Cybele. (Everywhere
we find religion, though often, as here, it has gone astray into the
earth for its God.)

In the first force of his youthful genius, Jupiter declares war
against the time-honored custom (political contends with sacer-
dotal power) ; Saturn is compelled to disgorge^ first, the stone,
then the brothers and sisters of the new autocrat, who, in the gen-
erous plenitude of conscious power, seeks the prison-house of his
uncles, the Titans, to set them free also (autocratic power craves
the prestige of the divine association).

What splendid symbulization is this of ages of human activity^
distilled down into a poetic quintessence by the generalizing In-
tellect and creative Fancy! The Genius of Humanity, in some
remarkable person, triumphs over Time; and, taking counsel of
all the powers of Nature, especially of the forecasting wisdom of
man, builds up, on the ruins of an outworn ancient dynasty (which
in its own day had a not unlike history), the 01ym])ian kingdom.

There is a subsequent war between the Titans and the Olympic
gods, and a conquest of the former by the latter, with the lielp of
the hundred-handed giants of the earth and sea. And this is fol-
lowed by the battle of the giants with the victorious gods (for the
conservative multitude, of course, when it has become conscious
of its potency, always rebels against the autocratic power, although
it did help restore it to new vigor !).

The whole story has been reproduced in Europe within fifteen
hundred years.

Let Constantino's Empire stand for Saturn; let the principle of
monarchy, encouraging the popular element till it has gained its
own purpose?, stand for Jui)iter and his allied giants; let Hilde-
brand's struggle of the ecclesiastical against the civil power stand
for the war of the Titans against the Olympic gods — and it will
be seen that the whole fable of tlie war of the Titans was verita-
ble history, which always has words of prophecy for the under-
standing heart. The myth holds good for history, even to the
end ; Jupiter conquers and keeps in bonds the rebel Titans. He

Primeval Man. SI

even nails the immortal Prometheus, his prime ooiinsellor, to tlie
rock of circumstance, by mechanical art and material Force, under
the direction of Mercury (the brain in the hand). Wliv is not
this a probable history of the elder world, since we know that, in
the modern era, the Practical Intellect always has sacrificed to
immediate ends the inspirations of its youth, without which it
would never have risen to its place of power ? '

The monarchical principle grew in Europe — first, by the ("hurch,
which anointed it ; secondly, by the popular element, which gave
it material force. No sooner was it established than it dealt with
both as Jupiter did with the Titans on the one side and the
giants on the other. But there is nothing which has lived that
can entirely die. The mountains that are piled on the giants are
not "firm set earth ; " the buried ones turn, and shake the fium-
dations of the cities built over them ; occasionally their fiery life
bursts forth overwhelming; there is secret, undated community
with the Higher power, " benevolent to man," who brought the
fire to earth;'' and the divine Titan bides his time, and outlives
the vulture of circumstance. The self-regenerating liver may not
be exhausted even through thirty thousand years. Idea foresees
that, however persistent may be any beautiful form, every form
is temporary. As out of the conjunction of the active genius of
Greece, with its beautiful sensibility, sprang a force, personal,
moral, instant ; conditioned by political circumstance, and directed
to specific ends ; constantly renewed and cultivated by the very
labors that were imposed upon it to keep it from the place of
power — so it may be that the legitimate governments of modern
Europe are educating the Hercules that shall unbind the genius
of Humanity for a new Avatar!

Homer celebrated the past glories of the Olympian era. The
fall of Trov is the last event that brought the will of the Pelasgic-
Dodonsean Jupiter about. Apollo, the god of the IIeraclcida3,
took his place in Greece thereafter. If Jupiter survived as a
name, it was vox et j^rceterea nihil.

When, some ages after Homer and Ilesiod, Herodotus took up

See " Biography of Napoleon Bonaparte," as given by Ilazlitt.
« Mr. Longfellow has embodied this idea in his "Euceladus." But I deny any pla-
giarism. This essay was written (1853) long before his sonnet was published, if
written.

XVII— 6

82 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

the pen of History, which the epic poets had laid down, the Del-
phic oracle was the sole temple of Eeligion that held any sway
over the people. But its sway was supreme. It is because we
see the details of the Ionian revolt and Grecian resistance to Per-
sia microscopically, that it does not appear to be Apollo's deed,
as obviously as the destruction of the Pythian serpent, and the
building of the temple of Crissa,

The triumph of the age of Pericles was the flowering out, in
national act, of a Religion founded on the worship of Divine In-
tellect, in pure human form.

Karl Ottfried Miiller has interpreted the Dorian conception of
Apollo as " the moral harmony of the universe," broadened first
by the toleration, and then by the absorption, of the tutelary gods
of the other tribes, who severally personified the various human
instincts and faculties which possibly characterized their heroic
founders, and the systems of culture they severally established.
But Miiller's interpretation is not enough to explain the belief in
h.\% personality, which made Apollo the god of the people.

Modern researches have suggested, if they have not proved, that
Apollo was an ancient leader of the Dorian colonization, a Hero
Priest (perhaps the remembrance of one of the " fourteen lives of
Buddha" long prior to Gotama), who led a colony of the atheisti-
cal sect (falsely so called, for its denial of any Divinity existent in
the material universe opened up the way for an apprehension of
God in man, the only known creature of which Love, Wisdom,
and Spiritual power are in any degree attributes).

In the personality of a heroic man, then, is at last found ade-
quate explanation of the effectiveness of the worship of Apollo
over the masses of the Greeks. It is only Personality that will
command a people's worship ; never an abstraction.

The human Apollo must have combined the highest ideas of
the Brahminical piety with the immeasurable self-respect of the
protesting Buddha,' who probably united rare personal gifts with
his complete culture.

Apollo inspires and commends his worshipper to his own Ideal
Beauty.

' The word Buddha, Intelligence, did not originate with Sakyamuni. It heads the
most ancient genealogies of Asia. (See Tod's "History of Rajasthan.")'

Primeval Man. 83

Except the Hebrew, this is the only worsliip that liistory speaks
of which does not subject man to material nature ; and, at the
same time, does not despise, but respects, material nature in its
due place.

Its supreme act is Imagination, which, descendino; from the
calm heaven of Keason, expresses itself in Music, Dance, Science,
and every beautiful art — the equilibrate motion, which is the rest
not of death, but of the two poles of life in equipoise.

Its action in society was the inevitable result of a noble wis-
dom that saw the supreme end of a.state* to be the unfolding of
its constituent members to a perfect individual development, which,
precisely because it was felt by each one to be his own moral cre-
ation, was his highest source and means of enjoyment.

Such a political state was measurably historical with the Do-
rians ; and the only argument against their historian has been
that " such culture is incredible in a wandering tribe of No-
mads,"

But what justifies this ever-i-ecurring preconception of primeval
harbarism^ when it is opposed by facts so stubborn as the Sans-
crit, Zend, and other old tongues, teeming with words applied
to intellectual and moral exercises not named in modern lan-
guages, proving a subtlety of intellect on the one hand, and
a range of nature on the other, without parallel in modern civili-
zation ?

What is to be made of the fossilized science discovered among
the superstitious practices of the Eastern nations? The idle le-
gends, by which those among whom they are found explain these
forms of custom, prove that the science originated with some
more highly educated race who went before.'

It is immeasurably more absurd to suppose that the wonders of
Grecian art and culture, described by Homer, and otherwise indi-
cated in the first ages of Greece, were the imagination of the
poets, than to believe them to be historical facts.

Layard has discovered, in Nineveh, that beneath the relics of
the eighth century before Christ is found another, previously
buried, Nineveh, whose works of art are of an altogether more

* K. 0. Miiller, vol. ii, "History of the Dorians." '

=* See Bailly's "History of Ancient Astronomy," and "L'Origine des Sciences."

84: The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

exquisite character, showing the remoter age to have been more
highly cultivated than the later one ! '

Many of the cylinders of Babylon, referred to just now, speci-
mens of which are scattered through the cabinets of Europe,
exhibit the highest taste of art. The shawls of Cashmere, the
steel and the silken webs of Damascus, are older than historical
memory.

All these nations have the tradition that these inventions were
introduced by divine personages. The " social compact " and
the germination of arts and sciences among barbarians are ro-
mances of modern philosophers that have not a solitary historical
veriiication. Joseph de Maistre's idea of savages being the degra-
dation of the human race, not its germs," is far better authenti-
cated by facts than the opposite opinion; and it is no objection
to this view that the nobleness of some savage nations testifies to
the restorative power of an entire removal from the seats of con-
centrated corruption, from which the crimes or the caprices of their
progenitors may originally have driven them ; the promise of Re-
demption is as inherent in man as the Fall and the original sov-
ereignty. The whole trilogy is perpetually reproduced, both in
individuals and in History.

The Yedas of the Aryans, the Desatir of the Persians, the Pu-
ranas, and other sacred books of the Indians, equally show that
the Fallen man was not at once bereft of all tlie glories of the
sovereign.

In that da}', when yet "the whole earth was of one lip," man,
in comparison with later generations,

" above the rest
In shape and gesture proudly eminent,
Stood like a tower."

" High in the midst, exalted as a God, ,
Th' Apostate in his sun-bright chariot sat ;
Idol of majesty divine —
His form not yet had lost
All its original brightness.

' Mariette's discoveries in the most ancient Egypt and the exploration of the Great
Pyramid bring similar evidence.
* " Soirees de Ste. Petersbourg."

Primeval Man. 85

Nor appeared less than

Archangel ruined,

And the excess of glory obscured."

In short, men whose personal gifts and splendor of action are
hardly exa,e:gerated in the myths of the Grecian gods, whose
forms (as Heeren says) Homer and Ilesiod fixed forever in the
hnman imagination by the characterizing strokes of their wonder-
ful genius, might not unreasonably have been believed by ordi-
nary men to have been wholly divine.

A late writer has traced from India, by the names of their set-
tlements, which are found to be but a thinly disguised Sanscrit,
the founders of every Grrecian, as well as many -Syrian and Egyp-
tian states ; and he promises to do the same with respect to Italy
and other nations farther west.'

The earlier of the emigrants were sun-worshippers, who may
naturally have succeeded to worshippers of the abstractions of
the human mind (of which the Heavenly host and the forms of
Earth are emblems), that at last brought about a worship of mate-
rial nature, instead of the Supreme Spi7'it, whose expression they
are; and this, in every instance, at last reduced men to barbar-
ism. If there were various sectaries of this worship of nature
(and how could it be otherwise ?), and if they made various experi-
ments of social life, the recollections of these persons by their de-
scendants, and their histories, seen across the dark ages of Revo-
lution and Barbarism, would account for the variety and contra-
dictions of the myths, which present the greatest difficulties when
it is insisted to harmonize them into one scheme, as Hesiod and
others have tried to do.

But those antiquarians and critics are quite in the wrong who
so earnestl)^ set forth that it was not legitimate for the Grecian
poets to have used these historical facts as the fanciful symboliza-
tion of their ideas. The truth is that tho facts themselves grew
out of the Ideas, which were their final cause of being.'

The genius of Humanity exercises its highest prerogative when

1 See " India in Greece," by E. Pocoke. He has promised it respecting the Kelts ,
who preserved the original Aryan organization of clans in the Scotch Highlands and i
Ireland (Aryaland ?).

" See r. D. Maurice's " Apocalypse."

86 The Journal of Specvlative Philosophy.

it extracts the Idea which a great social movenient, or series of
movements, has expressed, and casts aside the facts, as the gold-
smelter does the ore in which he finds the precious metal embed-
ded. This " mystic harvest " of Time, that the Poet " gathers in
a song," is a corresponding verification of the argument derived
from Philology, for the high condition of Primeval man, which
the Philosopher of History cannot spare.

"We know, indeed, by the Romancers and wandering Minstrels
of the twelfth century, that these transcendental Reapers of the
fields of Time make sad work with the dates and localities ; but,
on this account, we do not cease to be grateful that the middle age
literatures have preserved the grand forms of Charlemagne and
Ms Paladins, and of Arthur and his knights, who were really flesh
and blood, and would never have been represented as the defenders
of innocence, age, and chastity, but for the reality they shared in.
the Christian Life of Love.

That idea of pure Love made them imperishable ; and, when
they passed away personally, all in them that was derived from it
survived as a, power / and, re-embodied in chivalry, and the Chris-
tian poetry, not only educated Milton, as he has gratefully re-
corded, but Christian Europe, so far as it has been educated at
all, which is indeed but partially.

The peculiarity of Greece was not derived from the emigration
of the Solar Tribes, but from the leaders of the Pelaso-ian colonies
of later date, called the Lunar Tribes. These, before they left
Asia, had rejected the theology of the Brahmins, and their whole
social organization, by denying the abstract principle out of which
those doctrines grew, and propounding a theory in favor of the
human will exactly opposite to the old Pantheism.

The first, as well as the last Buddh preached that God was the
evolution of ages, and always came into form at last as a man.

The signature of the developed divinity was the union of all
gifts of genius and fortune which could make human opportunity.
Having traversed all nature, from the lowest moss and animal-
cule up through all vegetable and animal organizations, he at last
found himself the most beautiful, wise, and powerful of men, and
the son of a king.

Choosing five hundred companions, most nearly gifted like
himself, he exercised Saturnian sway ; and, having organized the

Primeval Man. Hf

whole race of men into a perfect society, and established peace
truth, and universal felicity, lie and his live hundred passed into
nir-ioana (which has been strangely interpreted annihilation), for
they had arrived at the consummate flower of Beinc^ !

Such is the oldest Buddhistic Tradition.'

We can plainly see what there was inspiring and commanding
in this myth. What a spark of fire it must have been to kindle
all the personality of genius slumbering in that old Brahminical
world !

If it was a doctrine preached by a man whom fortune had
placed on a pinnacle of political power by his birth, and he could
give his thought aet^ nothing recorded of the triumphs of Buddh-
ism is incredible. Even the last Buddha (Gotama) conquered
Brahminical Sacerdocy for ages, in its old seats.

Alexander and Csesar and the modern " Man of Destiny " came
into similar relation with their respective times, and, with a gauge
of mnch less depth, did a corresponding work on the political
plane.

It is true that Brahmanism always recovered itself in its old
place, when the living Buddh passed out of the flesh ; but this in
the end was an advantage to mankind, for it produced emigration
en masse of those who had ackn owl edited him."

Each leader could believe himself, and be believed bv his fol-
lowers, the coming Buddha, just in proportion to his gifts ; and
would work and inspire others accordingly. Hence the leaders
of the earliest Pelaso-ian and Hellenic colonies.

The river Dor is one of the eastern sources of the Indus, coming
from the mountains of the beautiful Cashmir, wdiere even now
travellers see working in the fields men with forms that recall the
proportions of the Farnese Hercules and the Apollo Belvedere.
From this river the leader of the Dorian emigration to Europe
went, and was ever after idealized and worshipped as Apollo.

The first Buddhists are to be judged by their oldest books, and
the uttermost purity and first energy of their doctrine; not by
the present Buddhism, which dates from Gotama (the last man

' See " Revue Independante," article by Bournouf.

* It is noteworthy that the Pelasgian emigration dates from the victory of the Brah-
minical over the warrior-caste, in India. The warriors were not subdued, but emi-
grated.

88 The Journal of Sj)eoulative Philosophy.

who bore that name, in the fourth century before Christ), and
which is now unquestionably corrupted from its first life.

The caput mortuum of both systems (Brahminism and Buddh-
ism) is all that is left in modern India to-day.

The healthiest results of any doctrine are to be looked for among
the Emigrants, who banish themselves from the opposite conserva-
tisms, and whose activities and hardships in the colonization of
new countries involve contests with nature, and with the older
settlements of their opponents, which keep their intellect and
energy alive for ages.

History has testified to no other Biiddh who can compare with
Apollo, who must have been the apotheosis of a rarely gifted
man.

But even the divine Apollo recognizes a fallen humanity in
his experience. The most remarkable rites in his worship conse-
crated the remembrance of his limitations by ceremonies of ex-
piation and purification, necessitated by his violation of life — the
mystery of mysteries — in his destruction of the Pythian serpent,
which personified, perhaps, some savage fetichism, or the corrup-
tions of the old Brahminism, but which could not be destroyed
without violence.

The infernal deities at Pherge, to whom the expiation was
made, are the " clouds and darkness round about the throne " of
the " Unknown God," whom the Greeks " ignorantly worshipped."
But what is most remarkable and interesting in this myth is that
the expiation Apollo makes is by menial service to man, which
suggests an obscure apprehension of the characteristic doctrine of
Christianit}'.

Karl Ottfried Miiller says there is trace of a myth of the death
of Apollo in the oldest mythology ; and, also, it interchanges
Apollo and Hercules, as if they symbolized the same facts of his-
tory. Both were names of the Smi-God. There was one form
of the story of the restoration of Alcestis from the dead which
made Apollo the Restorer, who, moved by the love he felt for the
king, whom he had once humbled himself to serve, fought with
Orcus. Does not this express the central depth of the Christian
doctrine of redemption ?

Were not Brahminism and Buddhism opposite errors? Brah-
minism despises the life that now is as Maya — Dlusion. Buddhism

Primeval Man. 89

pities Sind despairs of it ; Nirwana is absolute deliverance from
it. Braliniinism lacks the love, Buddhism lacks the dignity, of
human nature, and both, therefore, allow human life to lapse,
instead of glorifying it ; but had they been, in their beginning,
just what these theories are now, and no more, they had never
founded social systems that it has taken so many aces to wear
out. They are among the involuntary witnesses to the truth that
man is created upright, which means in communion with God,
whose Word is the sicm of things, each one of which, and the
order in which they are found, wake echoes in the human mind
(«'. e., loords) which may be used for mutual understanding with
our fellows — as God used the things themselves to converse with
the primeval man before men were driven to hiding themselves
in the trees of the garden, in conscious shame for having let their
birthright lapse, by taking the law from below their proper sphere
of life rather than from abov^e, in that worshipful communion
with the Father of Spirits which realizes the unity of all Life.

The animal as well as his material environment is good in its
place, and it is all right that men should see, name, and enjoy it
as " ver}' good." But let them not rest — but work — in it : " My
Father worketh .hitherto, and I work." The world which science
cognizes is the body which God has prepared for the human spirit
to sojourn in, that men may commune with each other, tossing
the echoes of its particulars from their tongues, to express that
they know themselves as denizens of a heavenly kingdom, and
heirs of its throne, on which they shall sit down, having over-
come this w^orld by knowing and using it in love.

Absorjotioji and nirwana amount to the same thing, leaving
God minus his Son, in whose face, as the old Schoolmen said,
the Father beholds his own Glory. They grow pale before the
Victory of Life Everlasting in Christ Risen. He left nothing in
the grave, because every power constituting mind and body rises
from the plane of nature, and ascends into heaven, by its own
proper action and perfect use, singing "Hallelujah ! the Lord God
omnipotent reigneth {in and by man):' " So it was in the begin-
ning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end."

90 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

NOTES AND DISCUSSIONS.

OBJECT AND REFLECTION.

A NORMAL LESSON ON THE SIMPLICITY OF TRUTH.

All things pertaining to life and piety are of His divine power, which is given unto
us through the knowledge of Him who hath called us by glory and virtue. — 2 Pet., i, 3.

— Purver's Translation.

Since instructions are many, hold close to those whereon the rest depend. So may
we have all in a few, and the law and the prophets in a rule.

— Sir Thomas Brownk.

Through all the diversities of human experience which necessarily ensue
from the diverse limitations of circuinstances and pursuits, and through all
the ambiguities of human speech which may either inhere in the constitu-
tion of language, or spring from the variety of usage, there is an abiding
unity of all truth, which is indicated and manifested to every enlightened
intelligence, in a growing siraplitication of doctrine, or, so to speak, in a
growing crystallization of law. The multiplicity of rules in all educational,
as in all social and all individual life, so far as it is not uhimately capable
of reduction to the central and comprehensive rule of " God-with-us," must
be a form of practical polytheism, fraught with the distractions and dangers
of a false ffiith. In the following more or less fragmentary suggestions
the writer's desire is to inculcate the universal immanence of the super-
natural in the natural, and to represent the work of education as being but
one of the fields of exercise for that religions faith which moves, more or
less directly, in the van of all living, progressive intelligence.

An "Object" may be simply defined as anything which is perceived or
perceptible ; that is, as anything " cast over against," or placed before, and
so contrasted with, or distinguishable from, while subject to, our individual
power of perceiving. As a secondary meaning, resuhing from the desira-
bility, real or imagined, of things perceptible as means of happiness, the
term is also applied to the pursuit or desire of any such thing, and becomes
nearly or quite synonymous with the terms " Design," " Purpose," " Mo-
tive." But it is so important, for the statement of first principles, to dis-
tinguish that primary meaning as a fact independent of all the variable
moods of individual feeling, that the term " Object" may with advantage-

Notes and Discussions. 9t

be more explicitly defined as somewhat external to men, onto their individ-
ual consciousness, which somewhat, in the Divine ordering and iihiminat-
ing of the perceiving being and the perceived thing, impresses the con-
sciousness of men with a varied distinctness and fulness, according to their
varied sensibility and capacity. Impressions thus received into conscious-
ness, and there more or less definitely retained or secretly commingled,
become, obviously, a sort of secondary objects, and furnish the materials of
memory and " subjects " for reflection.

But while these comparatively internal tacts, or subjects of reflection,
are indeed subjects at will, or proper to us, as compared with those more
impersonal facts which were their external occasion, they must obviously
still be also regarded as external or objective in their relation and attitude
to the secret individual consciousness, or the power of perceiving and re-
flecting, which inheres in the man proper, by virtue of his deeper relation
to God.

The recorded creation of man in the imnge of God is the charter of his
inherent superiority to the laws of inferior creatures, and even suggests the
possible inference that the mention of his being created may be a figura-
tive piece of condescension to that fallen and fragmentary condition in
which he inevitably contemplates himself on the same plane with those
creatures ; and that his real origin in the essential and truly characteristic
part of his constitution is that of an inevitable emanation of the Divine
Substance in its collision with a hostile power, in that underlying conflict
of the ages and the universe, which was presumably antecedent to the crea-
tion, and which is to be coeval, and coeval only, with the duration of tinu'.
But this suggestion it is unnecessary and inexpedient here to follow up
further than to note that original diversity in human experience, of external
fact and internal fact, which led even so profound and exhaustive an intelli-
gence as that of Plato to regard matter as selt-existent and eternal.

Without a deep appreciation of this fundamental contrast we cannot
steadfastly do justice to the ever subtly shifting and seemingly evanescent,
but ever stubbornly recurring, distinction between true Subject aini true
Object, and the consequent relativity and transitoriness of human knowl-
edge ; nor have any firm hold on the reflective power as the main clement,
or, indeed, as any element at all, in the development of that knowledge.
But we must be led, by way of compromise, to designate the intermediate,
transitional stages of a completed consciousness, as at best an indiscriminate
mixture of the two elements, in which the priority of the internal is not
maintained ; and as the policy of concession thus accepted is consistently
pursued or developed, to adopt a spiritless, materialistic faith and philoso-
phy, barren alike of all deep principle and all lofty aspiration. But with

92 TTie Journal of Sjoeculative Philosophy.

that appreciation, the philosophic ground may still be maintained for the
universally obvious duality of Science, and the distinction between the
internal or personal element and the external or impersonal may be rigidly
observed through all the abounding and else inevitable confusion conse-
quent upon the degree of profundity or insight in different observers, or
in the same observer at different stages of inteUigence. Indeed, despite all
the inherent ambiguities of language, and all the perverse quibblings of
scepticism of which those ambiguities are the stronghold, this " Subjec-
tive" and " Objective" duality of worldly and communicable experience
and knowledge may be styled a direct intuition of the healthy soul, and a
self-evident fact to a matured intelligence. But the ambiguities of language
are themselves a result of this pervading duality of experience, and are to
be mastered on the same principle of simplicity and subordination of the
natural to the supernatural.

Howsoever the spiritual or substantial and the physical or phenomenal
may be mediated by the intellectual or metaphysical — whatsoever division
may be made of the various elements of truth, accoi'ding to the stand-point
and method of the observer, into subjective roots and objective branches
of science, it must at least be obvious to all that there are root-sciences and
branch-sciences, and that the science of language, which combines and
connects them all, is justly to be regarded as the trunk of the tree. Al-
though in itself neither a source of strength nor a seat of beauty, it must
pre-eminently represent the principles, whatever they may be, which are
common to all science. Indeed, the whole significance of Language, as a
productive science rather than a wasteful art, consists in the fact that, as
the mediator of the sciences, or the medium of their communicabihty and
prospective fusion, it presents none other than those universal principles ;
and so, as it becomes indeed known to us, represents the essential and
permanent conditions of all phenomena distinct from those accidental and
transient ones which form so large a part of our transitional and pro-
bational experience. As the immediate omnipresence and practical omnipo-
tence of God in nature, and a pervading harmony of nature, where not
obscured without nor interrupted within by avoidable evil, are found to be
the ultimate lessons of every department of knowledge, they are registered
in the constitution of language, and so become the elementary materials of
Grammar. The secret presence of Subjective power in Objective phenome-
na, Avhich Subjective power, whether immediately consisting in the pres-
ent Deity, or whether mediately represented by principles and men, main-
tains its own position and the subordination of nature by a continual
process of creation, or expenditure of itself in new Objective forms, and so
proves that subordination, and not self-preservation, is the universal law

Wotes and Discussions. 93

of nature— this is the great mystery of grammar as of all science. Let the
student of grammar, then, and of all science, begin his stndy with observ.
ing the ever-shifting distinction between internal and external experience,
between power and phexiomena, with a view to learning, in the first place,
the qualities of spirit as distinguished from those of matter; and let him
not dream to build except upon the foundation thus laid, if he would not
have the image of his dream broken and crushed to powder before the
Stone which is even now " cut out of the mountain without hands," and
which is destined to "fill the whole earth."

As the Divine Subjective Power is antecedent to the universal Objective
existence in the work of Creation, we may infer that the work of hanian
investigation, subjective development, must be antecedent to objective in-
telligence. " First the root and then the fruit " must^ver be the order of the
truth that " springs out of the earth " under the beams of the righteousness
that " shines down from heaven " (Ps. Ixxxv, 2). Unconsciously, the soul
of the earnest inquirer imbibes principles with facts, gaining by the process
an increase of intellectual capacity which ensures their subsequent con-
scious discrimination and permanent possession. By the faithful observ-
ance of this just order of experience, man discovers and occupies hi« ap-
pointed place as lord of the outward creation. As his real life is " hid
with Christ in God," all facts furnish principles, which in turn become
recognized as more important facts, and again suggest more important
principles, according to the law of subjective development, until the scheme
of the universe is consistently mirrored in his soul, so far as its details may
be known to him, without diminishing, but, on the contrary, enlarging his
appreciation of liis relations towards God and his fellow-man. His very
knowledge of God, the Supreme Subject, is plaiidy nothing more than a
progress from earlier crude and contracted objective apprehensions to later
refined and enlarged ones, with the extension of his own subjective capacity.

The mind of the individual and that of the race thus enlarging with the
development of principles, the attainments of one age and stage becume
the starting-point of the next, and the primary law of education thus not
only pervades all departments of knowledge, but endures through every
period of progress. So far as the simplification and enlargement of lan-
guage may keep pace with the same tokens of progress in general science,
the teacher will be continually able to adapt his demonstrations of truth to
the simple sense and craving capacity of the unsophisticated learner, never
allowing his necessary practical devotion to the Objective or phenomenal
to prevent that recognition of its immediate dependence on the Subjective
or potential which, as an ever-shifting relationship, is that with which
every learner must begin and end. Whether, therefore, it be regarded as

94 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

a unity or as a trinity, whether as the direct fusion of the subjective and
objective, or as their distinct though harmonious coexistence in an otherwise
*■'■ unknown God," the simplicity of Trnth thus becomes the clew of gram-
mar, and the law of education, so far as the work of education may deserve
its name, by being at once elementary and progressive ; and the bi-oadest
expression or illustration of that simplicity may yet appear in the profound
but universal subordination of true Object to true Subject in the I'ealm of
ideas, and in the analogy, or philosophical identity of the relation existing
between them, Avith those equally universal relationships of physical nat-
ure which are known as Polarity in the inorganic kingdom, and as Sex in
the organic. The typical and far-reaching significance of these outward
principles in the Divine allegory of God's creation, it may be, is only be-
ginning to be broached.'

Richard Randolph.
Philadelphia, Pa., January, 1883.

THE BEAUTIFUL.

Beauty is not a local somewhat, nor is it an abstract quantity. It can-
not be predicated of any scene or condition in itself, independently of hu-
man soul-condition. One's emotions may be aroused in admiration of some
visible scene, and he may thence call upon a companion to observe and
admire with him, but there is no certainty that the companion sees and
admires with him — sees as he does. It is beautiful to the one, exciting
delightful emotions, and is only coldly commonplace to the other. So
beauty, in its merely sensory aspect even, is conditioned upon a unity or
harmony betw^een man and his relations in experience. The world of sense
awakens throbs of delight and admiration only to one whose feelings are
toned up to a becoming pitch of aesthetic sensibility. Mere animal re-
lation with the sensible realms is void of such sensibility. Only human
emotions can fitly respond to or record on life's tablet the element of beauty
tliat is i-e'*ident in the world of sense. Hence, there is sensory aesthetic
experience enlj where there is a vital marriage of beauty of soul with out-
ward conditions. And as the human form is composite in its nature,
and fitted thus for delights — (1) through sensible relation with things;
(2) through supersensible experience in the realm of ideas ; and (3)
through intimate unity and converse with the infinitely Good, True, and

^ The reader, who may incline to pursue this analogy, is referred to the articles
"Subject and Object, or Universal Polarity," Journ. Spec. Phil, vol. viii, p. 97; and
"Polarity iu Character," vol. xi, pp. 320 and 417. The former article he is requested
to correct at p. 104, 1. 22, by inserting "presently" before "external" ; and the latter
at p. 324, 1. 14, by reading " competition " instead of " completiou."

NoUs and Discvssions. 95

Beautiful— the coronet of beauty that human form is authorized to wear
may glow with the gems of highest heaven. So it is puerile and weak for
one to relegate aesthetic experience mainly to sensory elements, and there-
upon indulge oddities of dress and conduct as signs of superior {esthetic
tone. The beautiful in human experience has all the breadth inliort-nt to
the human form. This form lives at once, or may live, in the deliifhts of
sense, the delights of reason, and the delights of wisdom. Come to its
best powers and amplest inheritance, this form shall revel in the matchless
beauty of regained Paradise, so full of the Highest that it shall carry all
of the rational and sensory nature, tinged with the lustre of its divinest
equipage.

The young English poet, Oscar Wilde, who is just now claiming some
attention as, par excellence, the exponent of sestheticism, may be measura-
bly touched with some sense of the beautiful — possibly in all of its degrees
— but he is manifestly at fault in claiming familiarity with aesthetics as a
science. One may have intimate emotional kinship with the beautiful in its
whole scope, and actually be all aglow with poetic radiance or other tJame
of genius in the line of art, and yet his intellect may be so void of any
measuring rules or defining laws thereof as to be wholly wanting in due
scientific appreciation.

The distinctive boundaries of art and science are really very marked,
though nothing is more common than a confused muddling of the two in
thought and speech. Art may very forcibly play in human experience as
intuitional perception and expression of some more or less vital reality, but
science alone scribes the law, rule, or measure that constantly subtends all
order, either of thought or thing. So the former is more akin to the emo-
tional, and the latter to the intellectual, realm of human power.

In proportion as art and science are divorced in their operations is the
product measurably partial and unsatisfactory. Art may inspire, but only
science may duly order activities. But art impulsion is sure to carry with
it a degree of knowledge or science, else it could not take even partial form.
But when one not only cultivates " sestbetics," like this young poet Wilde,
but talks glibly of the theme as " science " that commands his constant adora-
tion, we may rigjtly challenge him to justify his claims; and, unless he
can formulate to the understanding the distinctive principles, laws, or rules
that constitute aesthetics, call upon him to " step down and out." At least
should he merely show the measure of aesthetic activity and intelligence
that speaks through his life, and leave such measure of art and science to
impress others with its own character and value.

Art emotions are not raised simply in behalf of the beautiful, for there
is also an animating spirit in man towards the good and the true. TLc art

96 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

element is the o-enerative or vitalizinof force, while the science element is
the embodying or organizing force. The affections are motived or en-
livened with some sense of the good, true, or beautiful, and the intellect is
moved, in corresponding degree, to give appreciable form, as an effect, to
such affection. In those human conditions that realize only the partial and
fragmentary in experience, neither art nor science can exhibit perfect con-
sistency or maturity of spirit and power; such as must animate and fortify
human euergy under the reign of the unitizing principles that shall finally
prevail. Only the co-ordination of art and science, in creative order at-
tained, will realize the invincible play of ai-t in its supreme degree, as it goes
forth robed in the symmetry and order of supreme science. Till then, very
vital fragments may stimulate and direct humanity in its educational careeer,
but fully comprehensive scientific definition may not be expected of every
adventurer, especially upon a theme so illusive in its character as aesthetics.

It is reported of Mr. AVilde that, when afliirming the universal pres'alence
of beautyi he was asked to name the beauty that was resident in an ele-
vator close by, whereupon he could only beat a hasty retreat under cover
of his hackman. He had not reflected that beauty and deformity are two
requisite poles to experience, at least during the processes of hnman devel-
opment, else he would not have affirmed the present universality of beauty.

But if he were duly schooled in that sense of human lordship that fore-
tells the universal dominion of man in the supreme reign of art and science,
duly conjugated, he could not fail to discern a measure of beauty in every
form of human achievement that tends to such mastery, and in some degree
illustrates it. Human' freedom, realized from the mastery over and subjec-
tion in use of nature's forms and forces, is instinct with beauty, and the
signs of such mastery must in some measure reflect the beauty,

W. H. Kimball.

Concord, N. H., January, 1883.

SENTENCES IN PROSE AND VEBSE.

SELECTED BY WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING.

[The first selection in the portion of these " Sentences in Prose and Verse " published
in the July number (J. S. P., vol. xvi., p. 334), should have been credited to R. W. E.
{Conversations). The first sentence in the part published October (p. 444), should be
credited to Thoreau's Journal (unpublished). — Editor.]

VII.

The pilgrim oft
At dead of night, 'mid his oraison, hears.
Aghast, the voice of time disparting towers. — Dyer.

Notes and Discussions. 97

There is no world to those who grieve and love.— Zawrfor.
Where longs to fall yon rifted spire,

As weary of the insulting air;
The poet's thought, the warrior's fire.

The lover's sighs are sleeping there.— Zan^Aorn*.

Death in Life, the days that are no more. — Tennyson.
While man doth ransack man.

And builds on blood, and rises by distress ;
And this Inheritance of desolation leaves
To great expecting Hopes. — Samuel Daniel.
The grief that on ray quiet preys —

That rends my heart — that checks my tongue—

1 fear will last me all my days,

But feel it will not last me long. — J. H. Moore [from Montreuil],
Her voice was on the wind.
And the deaf ocean o'er Salurdad closed. — Southey,
Think of a country where there is but one opinion, where there is no
minority. Fisher Ames was right when he said the best majority was
that where there was but one over. — [ Conversations] Anon.

Mrs. A. and Mrs. B. do really believe that they are very ill ; and I have
no doubt this is very true, for the moment. But let anything occur to
tempt Mrs. A. or B. abroad, and she goes off like a shot. — Ibid.

Our modern Socrateses have not discovered, with that fabulous old one
of Xenophon's, that "They know — they know nothing." — Ibid.

The perception, or idea of light, is not changed for that of darkness in
so small a time as the twinkling of an eye. So that, in this case, the
muscular motion of the eyelid is performed quicker than the perception
of light can be changed for that of darkness. — Erasmus Darwin.

A proper rogue is indispensable in a play, in the cutting of whose
throat the audience may take an unmingled interest. — Coleridge.

The common vineyard snail has 21,000 teeth [Hcecket] — a gnat's wing
beats 8,000 times in a second, so fine are its ra-iscles. — G. H. Lewes.

In order to sleep, the minute blood-vessels, or capillaries of the brain,
contract, and extrude blood from the brain ; if the vessels remain full, the
nervous force continues to act and sleeplessness results. — B. W. Richard-
son [quoted].

It is a mercy your children have got over ye measles so well, but there
is a real duty belongs to you to instruct them in the word of God. — Mrs.
Godwin [ William GodiviJi's mother].

XYII— 7

98 The Journal of Speculatwe Philosophy.

Your brother Hally is going to send you a turkey. I am, thro' mercy^
better. — Ibid.

A bare crying for mercy at last is a dangerous experiment. We trust
providence, but it's in a wrong way, not in ye way of well doing. Sene-
ca's morals he bostes of is not sufficient. — Ihid.

The tempers of seafaring men are generally like the boisterous Ele-
m ent. — Ibid.

Lay thy stones with fare coulars ; I wish to be desolv'd and be with
Christ, not my will but the will of my God in Xt be done. — Ibid. \cet. 78].

He seems to be poorer for the 1. 44 I have given him than he was
before he had it; he now can't neither board nor cloth Harriot. — Ibid.

For every man is desirous of what is good for him, and shuns what is
evil, and this he doth by a certain impulsion of nature, no less than that
whereby a stone moves downward. — Hobbes.

The organization at birth may greatly influence the motives which
govern the series of our future acts of intelligence, and we may even
possess moral habits acquired during the foetal state. — Nicholson [1797].

Not able to walk ten yards without panting for breath, and continually
falling ; still he is able to ride ten miles every day, and eat and drink
very hearty. His face is quite red, constantly convulsed by ill-humor,
his hair gray and dirty, his beard long, and the clothes he wears not
worth sixpence. — Mrs. Bishop \sister of Mary Woolstonecraft, giving her
an account of their father^.

Here is a strange medley, a farthing candle, or one as thick as my
wrist. They have never been permitted to walk on account of wearing
out shoes. Send me a few wax tapers, for a farthing one often falls to
my share, and we go to bed very early. — Ibid.

My sentiments are French, and French they will be even in the grave,
provided one has sentiments in the grave. — Montcalm,

" The prejudice I can't get rid of, that, in war, God supports the full
regiments." — Frederic the Great.

Human nature is rarely uniform. — Walter Scott.

" As I crawled in " to the lost party in the snow, they cried : " They
had expected me ; they were sure I would come." — Dr. Kane.

She was a person, briefly, who was good and kind, but impossible to
rely upon, and little adapted to social life. — Madame Recamier [of
Madame Chateaubriand^.

Notes and Discussions. 99

Wordsworth, well pleased with himself, cared little for modern or ancient.
His was the moor and the tarn, the recess in the mountain, the woodland
Scattered with trees far and wide — trees never too solemn or lofty,
Never entangled with plants overrunning the villagers' foot-path ;
Equable was he and plain, and tho' wandering a little in wisdom.
Ever was English at heart. If his words were too many ; if Fancy's
Furniture lookt rather scant in a whitewashed apartment ;
If in his rural designs there is sameness and tameness ; if often
Feebleness is there for breadth ;]if his pencil wants rounding and pointing ;
Few of this age or the last stand out in like elevation.
There is a sheepfold he raised which my memory loves to revisit —
Sheepfold whose wall shall endure when there is not a stone of the palace.

Landor.
History always begins not with the union, but with the disunion of a
nation. — Mommsen.

Nay, till you have at least marked, on the top of each page, what
Month and Year it actually is, the Book can not be read at all — except
by an idle creature, doing worse than nothing under the name of reading.
— Carlyle [TFa(/jo^e's George the Second].

Algarotti — one of those half-remembered men, whose books seem to
claim a reading, and do not repay it when given. — Ibid.

Nine had already struck by the old Roman clock, surrounded by ivy,
which shares with the Church of St. Brelade, at Jersey, the peculiarity
of having for its date four ones (1111), used to signify eleven hundred
and eleven. — Victor Hugo,

Philosophy triumphs over past and future ills, but present ills triumph
over her. — La Rochefoucauld.

I am sure a little reading in Seneca, the philosopher, would set you
right in this pitiable wrong. — Godwin [to Parkinson ; ten days later the
latter destroyed himself].

Among the Marghi [West Africa], if a person in old age dies, his death
is esteemed a cause of satisfaction and mirth, while that of a young one
is lamented in tears. — Barth.

I never pluck the rose ; the violet's head

Hath shaken with my breath upon its bank,

And not reproached me ; the ever-sacred cup

Of the pure lily hath, between my hands.

Felt safe, unsoiled, nor lost one grain of gold. — Landor.

100 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

Amid tlie storms of fate, and throbs of pain,
Wisdom is impotent, and virtue vain. — Ihid.

The imperial dummy — Silentiarius imperialis, the title of the chief of
police, under Justinian. — Victor Hugo.

Like to the sent'nel stars, I watch all night. — Lovelace.

As I beheld a winter's evening air,

Curl'd in her court false-locks of living hair.- — Ibid.

Why shouldst thou sweare I am foresworne,

Since thine I vow'd to be ?

Lady, it is already morn.

And 'twas last night I swore to thee

That fond impossibility.

But O ! the nymph, did you e'er know

Carnation mingled with snow ?

Or have you sene the lightning shrowd,

And straight breake thro' th' opposing cloud ?

So ran her blood ; such was its hue ;

So thro' her vayle her bright hair flew.

And yet its glory did appeare

But thinne, because her eyes were neare. — Ibid.

I am once more going through with the old experiment of planting
potatoes, and do not yet find it convenient to give it up. [Conversa-
tions.] — Anon.

Yes, they [the farmers] were grubs, perchance, once ; but grubs become
butterflies. Insects go through three transformations. To-day they are
in the larva, and to-morrow in the air. Professor T. is the butterfly ; we
need people in all stages. — Ibid.

" Give me the comfort of your society at dinner." [From a note.] — Ibid.

The English have an astonishing degree of productive force, which,
seems to be latent in Americans. — Ibid.

Never had I the least social pleasure with him, though often the best
conversation. — Ibid.

The most poetry is in the ripples [on a pond]. — Ibid.

He bears well the vitriol of solitude. [Said of Hawthorne]. — Ibid.

I have that vanity of the ancient apostle, who used without fail to read
his sermons over to the family after church. So I read again my old dis"
courses up and down. — Ihid.

Book Notices. loi

BOOK NOTICES.

The Christian Pbilosophy Quarterly, October, 18S1. Edited by Rev. Cliaries F. Deems,
D.D. New York: Published for the American Institute of Christian Philosophy.'
Anson D. F, Randolph & Co., 900 Broadway. Two dollars a year; fifty cents a copy.

Contents: (1) Historical. (2) The Cry of the Conflict, by Charles F. Deems. (3)
What we mean by Christian Philosophy, bv Noali Porter. (4) Some Difficulties in
Modern Materialism, by Borden P. Bowne. (5) The Religious Aspect of the American
Scientific Association, by H. S. Trowbridge.

Most of the articles in this number were delivered, it seema^ at the " Summer School
of Christian Philosophy," held at Greenwood Lake. The articles of Dr. Porter and
Professor Bowne, either or both, are of sufficient value to make the reputation of any
journal of philosophy.

Kantian Ethics and the Ethics of Evolution ; a Critical Study. By J. Gould Schur-
man, M. A. (Lond.), D. Sc. (Eiinb.). Published by the Hibbjrt Trustees. London and
Edinburgh: Williams & Norgate ; New York: Scribner, 1881.

This book seems to me to be the best contribution to the critical study of the Ethics
of Kant which has so far appeared in English. The discussion of Mr. Spencer's " Data
of Ethics," which forms the second part of the work, also displays great vigor and in-
dependence of thought, but it is hardly equal to the first and larger part. Dr. Schur-
man writes with remarkable ease and grace, and his expositions and criticisms always
exhibit that thorough command of the matter in hand which comes from knowledge
and thought at first hand. I shall not attempt to follow the progress of his close and
searching criticism in all its detail, but I shall rather make one or two remarks on
points in the doctrine of Kant to which he does not, as I think, do perfect justice.

To derive from Kant all that is best in him, it is necessary to keep a watchful eye
on the goal towards which his inquiry is leading, as well as to examine with care
the actual statements he makes at any of the intermediate points in his progress
towards that goal. In his examination of Kant's distinction of the " intelligible " and
" empirical " char.icter in man, which is one of the numerous logical distinctions drawn
by Kant, Dr. Schurman has hardly borne this indispensable rule of fruitful Kantian
criticism sufficiently in mind, and the result is that, valuable as his remarks are in
bringing out the dualism of which Kant never quite got rid, they fail to indicate the
actual advance made by him. " Kant maintains that, though human actions are un-
changeably determined in the empirical character of each individual, they are never-
theless free; for thut empirical character, whence they flow, is itself the freely
originated product of the intelligible character." Of this doctrine " The Detenninism
of Schellingand Schopenhauer is the the logical outcome " (p. 6). " Empirical volitions,
as following in time, constitute a succession, the members of which, according to Kant,
are causally related to the other events in time. Everything that falls in time is caused
by what has already happened in time; volitions occur in time, ergo, volitions are
determined" (p. 12). "Kant sought to turn the edge of such objectioni, and doubtless
succeeded, but only by involving himself in contradiction" (p. 13). He "relegate*

102 Th^ Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

both reality and freedom to a transcendental sphere, which has no conceivable connec-
tion with this actual world in which we believe they both exist, and which can enter
into no connection with it without involving the whole system in hopeless contradic-
tion " (p. 19). " Now, it would be vain to deny that Kant affords sufficient occasion for
the charge which Dr. Schurman with such force brings against him, of simply limiting
freedom to " the night in which all cows are black ; " and from this point of view the
reference to Schelling and Schopenhauer is felicitous, although I must protest against
the half-formed resolution to make Hegel also a finger-post to warn off the unwary.
But neither Schelling's mysticism nor Schopenhnuer's pantheism is really the develop-
ment of what is most characteristic in Kant's theory. In the section criticised by Dr.
Schurman, Kant is engaged in suggesting, in a vague and tentative way, the means of
transition from the mechanical view of dogmatism to the teleological view of idealism.
(Of Hegel's Logik, iii, 213 ff.) The ordinary opposition of freedom and necessity, as
formulated in the third antinomy, is, he seeks to show, no real opposition at all; or,
rather, he points out that there is no absohite reason why we should maintain the me-
chanical and the teleological conceptions of nature to be mutually exclusive. For the
alternative of "necessity or freedom " it is not impossible that we ought to substitute
" necessity and freedom." Natural or necessary causation is certainly justified from
the point of view of sensible experience — the point of view from which in our ordinary
or unspeculative mood we contemplate all things ; nay, it is justified absolutely so far as
knowable reality is viewed only as a phenomenon in space and time. But we must re-
member that phenomena do not necessarily exhaust the universe, and, in particular, that
the invariable sequence of one event on another — which is the sole content of the
natural law of causation — still leaves unresolved the question as to the ultimate
ground of the sequence. So far Kant speaks quite generally, and his reply has in view
as much his future explanation of the world of nature as requiring to be contemplated
teleologically when it is viewed in relation to God, as his ethical doctrine of reason as
originating the moral law and introducing man to a purely intelligible realm. But he
goes on to apply to man's actions the general view just indicated. His explanation of
the compatibility of freedom and natural causation is, as I understand it, briefly this :
In our perception of nature — including, of course, man's volitions as in time — there is
no activity in any proper sense of the term, but simply an invariable sequence. To say
that man's volitions come under the law of natural causation is not to say that they are
compelled, but only that, so long as we look at them from the empirical point of view,
we must find them conditioned like all other phenomena. It is therefore quite pos-
sible that the acts of man should proceed from his reason, and yet that they should
come under the law of natural causation. All acts, whether free or not, must, as
realized in the world of sense, conform to the law of that world. Hence it is that, for
him who limits himself to the world of sense, even free acts, supposing that there are
such, will seem necessitated ; while again, for him who separates a free act from its
manifestation, that act will seem independent of the natural law of causation alto-
gether. But neither of these alternatives need be held if it is only recognized that
phenomena are not absolute realities, but rather the manner in which Reason mani-
fests itself. This, as it seems to me, is the drift of Kant's reasoning, although it is
much obscured, as it must be admitted, by his use of language that is appropriate
only in the mouth of the psychological idealist ; as also by Kant's caution in refusing
to admit that Reason in its theoretical use can possibly establish the reality of freedom.
Dr. Schurman has missed the force of some of Kant's expressions from his preposses-

Book Notices. 103

sion that Kant's "noumenon" mvist necessarily be a mere blank identity, similar to
Scheliing's "absolute indifference" or Spencer's Unknowable.

In the second section of his critique Dr. Schurraan goes on to consider Kant's con-
ception of Freedom. He will confine himself, he tells us, to an examination " into its
validity as a theory of the facts of our moral consciousness," without dealing with "its
compatibility or its incompatibility with any other part of the Kantian system " — a
promise, however, which is very partially kept (see p. 37 ff.). After a lucid sketch of the
whole ethical doctrine of Kant, our author proceeds to raise some objections against
the Kantian doctrine of Will as practical Reason. He finds much ambiguity in Kant's
own statements, but finally he comes to the conclusion that Reason and Will are for
Kant identical — a conclusion which is undoubtedly correct. But this seems to him a
very objectionable position. It takes away the differentia of Will, and makes human
action merely an inexplicable fact. "Kant seems to have regarded it as entirely gra-
tuitous to postulate a faculty standing between the action and the law of reason " (p. 32).
Hence, like Hegel, he makes Will " a peculiar kind of thinking." Now, as " thought
in the Kantian system cannot be peculiar to any individual (though Kant himself may
have conceived it thus) but must be a transcendental self-consciousness, that makes
the individual a universal," it follows that " the individual will has shrivelled into noth-
ingness at the grasp of universal reason." This is an extraordinary leap. Does Dr.
Schurman mean that, if thought were " peculiar to the individual," the will would not
"shrivel into nothingness at the grasp of universal reason"? Surely the affirmation
of the universalizing power of thought does not make the individual the mere medium
of something-not-hin]self. On the contrary, a " thought " that should be " peculiar to
any individual" would be no thought at all, but a mere play of impressions, of which
the individual would be but the passive and unconscious bearer. Nor is it eaiy to see
how the mterpolation of a peculiar faculty called will, distinct at once from action and
the law of reason, should improve the Kantian theory. What meaning does Dr. Schur.
man attach to the term " action " ? If he does not mean by it mere organic movement,
it must be a " peculiar kind of thinking," and this " thinking " cannot be separated
from the " law of reason " without becoming pure caprice. It seems, therefore, to me,
that, in objecting to Kant's identification of Will and Practical Reason, Dr. Schurman
objects to that which constitutes one of Kant's especial claims on our gratitude. By
this very identification Kant destroyed that mechanical conception of volition as a sepa-
rate faculty or "thing" acted upon cxtenially by another faculty or "thing," and at
least prepared the way for the solution of the problem of human freedom. " Will," we
are told, "is no more practical reason than it is practical imagination or practical sen-
sation. It is the faculty of consciously choosing among motives, from whatever source
they come, and of acting upon them." Now, as choice, and acting upon choice, cannot
be two distinct things, and as the act of choice is only a " pecuhar " determination of
■elf-consciousness, the only difference between Kant and his critic, so far as I can see,
is that the former makes Will the expression of a law of reason, while the latter makei
it independent of reason, and therefore irrational.

In the third section Kant's moral Principls is considered, and the familiar objection
to its emptv formalism is stated with great force and clearness. Even this objection
seems to me to be ma.le too much of No doubt the marc form of law will not yield
any definite code of moral duties, but Kant was not wrong in fixing upon the pure idea
of duty as the condition of freedom. Certainly that idea only presents itself in connec-
tion with the choice between alternative courses of conduct ; but, on the other hand.

104 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

unless an act is willed, not because it is simply more pleasurable than another, but
because it " ought" to be done, it has no moral character. In insisting upon the ne-
cessity of determining by reason which of several causes ought to be followed, or is con-
sistent with the pure idea of duty, Kant has at least touched the central point of mo-
rality. It is true that, in separating absolutely between reason and desire, Kant has
made it impossible to deduce specific laws of duty ; but if we assume, as he virtually
does, that the only problem of ethics is to explain the ground of moral obligation, we
must place it where he does — in a universal law of reason. Dr. Schurman, however,
is no doubt right in saying that morality " is not incompatible with a principle that
differs from the formal law, in that it has a content, but agrees with it in that it is of
universal extension" (p. 57); and that "when man no longer follows blindly his selfish
appetites and desires, but acts rationally in accordance with the idea he has of his own
worth and dignity as man, then his will is good, for it is the unhampered service of
, reason " (p. 62).

In the remarks just made, which have been directed mainly to points of difference,
I am conscious of having conveyed a very inadequate idea of the suggestive character
of Dr. Schurman's work ; but enough has perhaps been said to show that his essay is
well worthy of careful study. The second part, containing a searching criticism of Mr.
Spencer's ethical theory, brings out, with great clearness, many of the imperfections
which beset the evolutionist ethics of that philosopher. John Watson.

BOOKS EECEIYED.

The Platonist. Edited and published by Thomas M. Johnson, Osceola, St. Clair
County, Missouri. A monthly periodical devoted to the dissemination of the Platonic
Philosophy in all its phases. Pp. 33-48. Two dollars per annum.

Contents of No. 3. — (1) Pearls of Wisdom gathered from Platonic Sources; (2) Gen-
«ral Introduction to the Philosophy and Writings of Platon, by Thomas Taylor; (3)
Life of Platon (concluded) ; (4) Commentary of Proklos on the First Alkibiades of
Platon, translated from the original Greek, Introduction; (5) The Last Words of Soc-
rates, by Alexander Wilder ; (6) On the Utility of the Mathematical and Metaphysical
Sciences, by Thomas Taylor. lamblichos : a Treatise on the Mysteries ; a new transla-
tion by Alexander Wilder, Part I. (Y) That Intelligibles are not External to Mind ; and
Concerning the Good (from Plotinus) ; (8) Hipparchos on Tranquillity.

Contents of No. 4- — (1) Pearls of Wisdom gathered from Platonic Sources; (2) The
Best Translation of Platon; (3) On the Utility of the Mathematical and Metaphysical
Sciences, by Thomas Taylor (reprinted from the Introduction to his Tieatise on Theo-
retic Arithmetic) ; (4) General Introduction to the Philosophy and Writings of Platon,
by Thomas Taylor; (5) A Discourse upon the Mysteries, by lamblichos, translated by
Alexander Wilder, Part I ; (6) On the Necessity of Purification, and the Method by
which it may be Obtained, by Porphyrios, translation by Thomas Taylor ; (7) The Ele-

Books Received. 105

raent3 of Theology, by Prokloa ; (8) The Life and Works of Thomas Taylor, the Pla-
tonist.

Contents of Nos. 5, 6, and 7- — (1) Pearls of Wisdom ; (2) The Eternity of the Soul —
its Pre-existence, by Dr. H. K. Jones ; (3) Manuscripts of Thomas Taylor, the Platon-
ist, a Letter from Thomas Wentworth Iligginson ; (4) On the Necessity of Purification,
and the Method by which it may be Obtuined, by Porphyrios; (5) On the Means and
Grades of Ascent to Absolute Unity, by Proklos ; (6) Life of Hai Ebn Yokdan, the Self-
taught Philosopher, by Abubacer Ibn Tophail, translated from the original Arabic by
Simon Ockley, revised and modernized by W. H. Steele ; (7) The History of Ilai Ebn
Yokdan; (8) Entheasm, by Alexander Wilder; (9) lamblichos: a Treatise on the Mys-
teries, a new translation by Alexander Wilder ; (10) The Plato Club of Jacksonville,
Illinois ; (11) General Introduction to the Philosophy and Writings of Plato, by Thomas
Taylor (continued); (12) The Elements of Theology, by Proklos, translated from the
original Greek (continued) ; (13) Platonic Technology : a Glossary of Distinctive Terms
used by Platen and other Philosophers in an Arcane and Peculiar Sense, compiled by
Alexander Wilder ; (14) The Life and Works of Thomas Taylo'r, the Platonist; (15) To
the Rising Sun, by Thomas Taylor (Poem); (16) On Dialectic, or the Threefold Ascent
of the Soul to Absolute Being, translated from the original Greek of Plotinos.

Contents of Nos. 8, 9, and 10. — (1) Pearls of Wisdom gathered from Platonic Sources ;
(2) On the Study of Platonic Philosophy ; (3) Materialism of the Day, by Walter Lewin ;
(4) On Magic, by Proklos, translated from the Latin of Ficinus ; (5) The Education and
Discipline of Man — the Uses of the World we Live in — by Dr. H. K. Jones, a Lecture
delivered at the Concord School of Philosophy in the Summer of 1881 ; (6) The Elements
of Theology, by Proklos, translated from the original Greek ; (7) lamblichos: a Treatise
on the Mysteries, a new translation by Alexander Wilder, Part I (concluded) ; (8) Gen-
eral Introduction to the Philosophy and Writings of Platon, by Thomas Taylor ; (9) On
the Necessity of Purification, and the Methods by which it may be Obtained, by Por-
phyrios (concluded) ; (10) The Life and Works of Thomas Taylor, the Platonist (con-
tinued); (11) On the Virtues, translated from the original Greek of Plotinos ; (12) The
Dream : an Imitation of the Beginning of' the Eleventh Book of Apuleius, by Thomas
Taylor; (13) The Celebration of the Natal Day of Platon (selected); (14) Platonic Tech-
nology (continued), compiled by Alexander Wilder; (15) Book Notices.

The Legend of St. Olaf 's Kirk. By George Houghton. Boston : Houghton, MifBn
& Co. The Riverside Press, Cambridge. 1881.

An Essay on the Philosophy of Self-Consciousness, containing an Analysis of Reason
and the Rationale of Love. By P. F. Fitzgerald. London : Printed for the Author by
Truebner & Co. 1882.

Strauss and Renan : An Essay. By E. Zeller. Translated from the German, with
Introductory Remarks by the Translator. London : Truebner & Co. 1866.

Kantian Ethics and the Ethics of Evolution. By J. Gould Schurman. Published
by the Hibbert Trustees. Edinburgh : Williams & Norgate. 1881.

A Sketch of Ancient Philosophy, from Thales to Cicero. By Joseph B. :\Iayor, M. A.
Edited for the Syndics of the University Press. Cambridge : At the University Press.
1881.

The Practice of the Presence of God the Best Rule of a Holy Life : Being Conversa-
tions and Letters of Brother Lawrence. Philadelphia : Grant, Faires & Rodgers, 52 and
54 North Sixth Street. 1879.

106 Tke Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

The Development from Kant to Hegel, with Chapters on the Philosophy of Religion..
By Andrew Seth, M. A. Published by the Hibbert Trustees. London : Williams &
Norgate. 1882.

The Student's Dream. Published for the Author. Chicago : Jansen, McClurg & Co.
1881.

Usury Laws, their Nature, Expediency, and Influence. Opinions of Jeremy Bentham
and John Calvin, with Review of the Existing Situation and Recent Experience of the
United States. By Richard H. Dana, Jr., David A. Wells, and others. New York :
The Society for Political Education. 1881.

Atomism in Science and Religion. By Francis E. Abbot. Reprinted from the Index
of January 6, 1876. Boston, Mass. : George H. Ellis. 1876.

New Connecticut: An Autobiographical Poem. By A. Bronson Alcott. Boston;
Privately printed. 1881.

L'Heredite Psychologique. Par Th. Ribot. Paris : Librairie Germer Baillifere et Cie.
1882.

The Creed of Science, Religious, Moral, and Social. By William Graham, M. A.
London: C. Kegan Paul & Co. 1881.

Primer of Logical Analysis : For the Use of Composition Students. By Josiah Royce.
San Francisco: A. L. Bancroft & Co. 1881.

AOrOAOSIA TflN RATA TO IE' ET02 TENOMENnN THO EMMANOYHA APAFOT-
MH nPOEAPOT. EN A0HNAI2 EK TOT TTnOrPA<I>EIOT DAPNASSOT. 1881.

Commentar zu Kants Kritik der reinen Vernunft. Znm hundertjaehrigen jubilaum
derselben herausgegeben von Dr. H. Vaihinger. Erster Band, erste haelfte. Stuttgart ;
Verlag von W. Spemann. 1881.

The Canadian Journal : Proceedings of the Canadian Institute. New Series. Vol. I,
Part 2. Toronto : Copp, Clark & Co. 1881.

Immortality, and Our Employments Hereafter. By J. M. Peebles. Boston : Colby
& Rich. 1880.

Orations and Essays: With selected Parish Sermons. By Rev. J. Lewis Diman, D. D.
A Memorial Volume. Boston : Houghton, Mifflin & Co. The Riverside Press, Cam-
bridge. 1882.

Grundzuege der Psychologie. Dictate aus den Vorlesungen von Hermann Lotze.
Leipzig : Verlag von S. Hirzel. 1881.

Zur Erinnerung an K. Ch. F. Krause. Festrede gehalten zu Eisenberg am 100.
Geburtstage des Philosophen von Rudolf Eucken. Leipzig : Verlag von Veit & Co. •
1881.

The American Republic : An Address delivered at Parkersburg, West Virginia, July
4, 1867. By M. C. C. Church. Parkersburg, West Virginia.

The Revolutionary Movement in Russia. Reprinted from the " New York Herald,"
with Notes and Preface by Ivan Panin, Cambridge: Moses King. 1881.

A Critical Review of American Politics. By Charles Reemelin. Cincinnati : Robert
Clarke & Co. 1881.

Report upon Public Schools and Education in Rhode Island, October, 1874. By E. R.
Potter, Commissioner of Public Schools. Containing an Appendix upon Religious In-
struction in Schools. Providence. 1855.

Books Received.

107

A Short History of Art. By Julia B. De Forest. New York : Dodd, Mead k. Co.

Sordello : A Story from Robert Browning. By Frederic May Holland. New York :
G, P. Putnam's Sons. 1881.

John Caird's Religionsphilosophie. Von Otto Pfleiderer. (Reprint from " Jahrbuch
fuer Prot. Theologie," viii.)

The Truthseeker. Edited by the Rev. John Page Hopps. October and November,
1881.

Wissenschaftliche Wochenblaetter. Vol. I, Nos. 1, 2, and 3. Herausgegeben ron
Chr. Schmidti New York.

John Amos Comeni us, Bishop of the Moravians; His Life and Educational Works.
By S. S. Laurie, A. M. London: Kegan Paul,- Trench & Co. 1881.

Text-book to Kant. The Critique of pure Reason : Esthetic, Categories, Schema-
tism. Translation, Reproduction, Commentary, Index, with Bjographical Sketch. By
J. H. Stirling. Edinburgh: Oliver & Boyd, Tweeddale Court. 1881.

The Philosophical System of Antonio Rosmini-Serbati. Translated, with a Sketch of
the Author's Life, Bibliography, Introduction, and Notes, by Thomas Davidson. London :
Kegan Paul, Trench & Co. 1882.

Ralph Waldo Emerson : His Life, Writings, and Philosophy. By George Willis
Cooke. Boston: James R. Osgood & Co. 1881.

Kant. By William Wallace. Edinburgh and London : William Blackwood & Sons.
1882.

Metaphysics : A Study in First Principles. By Borden P. Bowne. New York :
Harper & Brothers. 1882.

Seneca and Kant; or, An Exposition of Stoic and Rationalistic Ethics, with a Com-
parison and Criticism of the two systems. By Rev. W. T. Jackson, Ph. D. Dayton,
Ohio: United Brethren Publishing House. 1881.

Empirical Psychology ; or, the Science of Mind from Experience. By Laurens P.
Hickok, revised with the co-operation of Juhus H. Seelye. Boston : Published by Ginn,
Heath & Co. 1882.

L'Esprit de L'Economie Politique. Par Fran9ois Mosser. Naples. 1879.

Thoughts on Theism, with Suggestions towards a Public Religious Service in Harmony
with Modern Science and Philosophy. London : Truebncr & Co., Ludgatc Hill. 1880.

History of the Christian Religion to the Year 200. By Charles B. Waite. Chicago :
C. Y. Waite & Co. 1881.

Biogen : A Speculation on the Origin and Nature of Life. Abridged from a Paper on
the "Possibilities of Protoplasm," read before the Philosophical Society of Washington,
May 6, 1882. By Dr. Elliott Coues. Washington: Judd & Detweiler. 1882.

The Norway Music Album. Edited by Auber Forestier and Rasmus B. Andorson.
Boston: Oliver Ditson & Co.

Sonnets and Canzonets. By A. Bronson Alcott. Boston : Roberts Brothers. 1882.

Platone e I'lmmortalit^ dell' Anima. Per A. Vera. Napoli : Detken e Rocholl, Piazza
del Plebiscito. 1881.

Problema dell' Assoluto. Per A. Vera. Parte IV. Napoli. 1882.

108 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

Die Nothwendigkeit und die Moeglichkeit einer Kraeftigeren Zusammenwirkung der
Voelker auf dem Gebiete der Kinder-Erziehung, speciell des Volksschulwesens. Von
Mhan-su-faer. Koeln und Leipzig. 1882.

Le Condizioni Presenti della Filosofia e il Problema della Morale. Dal Giacomo Bar-
zellotti. Milano-Torino.

The Doctrine of the Cross. A Contribution to the Theory of the Christian Life. By
the Rev. E. P. Scrymgour. London: George Bell & Sons. 1882.

The Christian Religion, a series of articles from the " North American Review." By
Robert G. IngersoU, Jeremiah S. Black, Professor George P. Fisher. New York : Pub-
lished by the "North American Review." 1882.

The Social Law of Labor. By William B. Weeden. Boston : Roberts Brothers.
1882.

Logical Symbolism : Sketch of a Method for Representing to the Eye the Operations
of the Mind. By Charles E. Sprague. New York. 1881.

Immanuel Kant's Critique of Pure Reason. In Commemoration of the Centenary of
its First Publication. Translated into English by F. Max Mueller, with an Historical
Introduction by Ludwig Noire. Vols. I. and II. London: Macmillan & Co. 1881.

On some Hegelisms. (Reprinted from "Mind," a Quarterly Journal of Psychology
and Philosophy. No. XXVI.) By William James.

Philosophical Papers. Paul and Plato. By Alexander Wilder.

Grundzuege der Ethik und Rechtsphilosophie. Von Dr. Wilhelm Schuppe. Breslau.
1881.

A Manual of Hindu Pantheism. The Vedantasara translated with Copious Anno-
tations. By Major G. A. Jacob. Truebner's Oriental Series. London : Truebner &
Co. 1881.

The Religions of India. By A. Barth. Authorized Translation. By the Rev. J.
Wood. Truebner's Oriental Series. London: Truebner & Co. 1882.
The Mother's Record. By a Mother. Boston : D. Lothrop & Co.

Schelling's Transcendental Idealism : A Critical Exposition. By John Watson, LL. D.,
T. R. S. C, Professor of Mental and Moral Philosophy, Queen's University, Kingston,
Canada. Chicago : S. C. Griggs & Co. 1882.

A Study of Spinoza. By James Martineau, LL. D., D. D. With a Portrait. London :
Macmillan & Co. 1882.

Report of the Commissioner of Education. 1880.

Philosophy of Landscape Painting. By William M. Bryant. The St. Louis News Co.
St. Louis, Mo. 1882.

Scientific Philosophy : A Theory of Human Knowledge. By Francis Ellingwood Abbot,
M. A., Ph. D. Reprinted from the London " Mind " for October, 1882.

From Whence, What, Where ? By James R. Nichols, M. D., A. M. Boston. 1882.
Optical Illusions of Motion. By H. P. Bowditch, M. D., and by G. Stanley Hall, Ph. D.
Reprinted from the " Journal of Physiology," Vol. Ill, No. 5.

The Man as Doctor : An Oration delivered at the Annual Meeting of the Middlesex
.South District Medical Society, April 19, 1882. By Edward Waldo Emerson, M.D.

Books Received. 109

Printed by vote of the Society. Reprinted from the Boston " Medical and Surgical
Journal" of June 8, 1882. Cambridge : Printed at the Riverside Press. 1882.

Truth Revealed to Men of Lowly Mind. Milwaukee, June, 1882. Concio ad Clerum.
Beaver Dam, Wis. : Burleson Bros. 1882.

Kleine Schriften von Christoph Sigwart, Professor of Philosophy in the University of
Tiibingen. Freiburg and Tiibingen. 1881.

On Mr. Spencer's Unification of Knowledge. By Malcolm Guthrie, Author of " On
Mr. Spencer's Formula of Evolution." London : Truebner & Co., Ludgate Hill. 1882.

Science and Sentiment, with other Papers, chiefly Philosophical. By Noah Porter
D. D., LL. D., President of Yale College. New York : Charles Scribner's Sons. 1882.

Stories from Browning. By Frederic May Holland, Author of " The Reign of the
Stoics." With an Introduction by Mrs. Sutherland Orr. London : George Bell & Sons,
York Street, Covent Garden. 1882.

The League of the Iroquois, and other Legends. From the " Indian Muse." By Ben-
jamin Hathaway. Chicago : Donnelly, Cassette & Loyd. 1881.

The Growth of English Industry and Commerce. By W. Cunningham, M. A., late
Deputy to the Knightbridge Professor in the University of Cambridge. Cambridge : At
the University Press. 1882.

The Parthenon Frieze and other Essays. By Thomas Davidson. London : Kegan
Paul, Trench & Co., 1 Paternoster Square. 1882

Ideality in the Physical Sciences. By Benjamin Peirce. Boston : Little, Brown & Co.
1881.

The Artist and his Mission : A Study in Jisthetics. By Rev. William M. Reilly, Ph. D.,
Professor of Ancient Languages, Palatinate College. Philadelphia : John E. Potter &
Co., 617 Sansom Street.

Aristotle's Pj'ychology in Greek and English, with Introduction and Notes. By Edwin
Wallace, M. A., Fellow and Tutor of Worcester College, Oxford. Cambridge : At the
University Press. 1882.

A Collegiate Course in the French Language, comprising a Complete Grammar, in Two
Parts. By Jean Gustave Keetels. New York: Clark & Maynard. 1S78.

Commentar zu Kant's Kritik der reinen Vernunft. Herausgegeben von Dr. U. Vai-
hinger. Stuttgart: Verlag von W. Spemann. 1882.

The Order of the Sciences : An Essay on the Philosophical Classification and Organi-
zation of Human Knowledge. By Charles W. Shields, Professor in Princeton College.
New York : Charles Scribner's Sons. 1882.

Henry D. Thoreau. By F. B. Sanborn. Boston : Houghton, Mifflin & Co. 1882.

Philosophische Bibliothek. Heft 301-303. Plato's Dialog Parmenides. Uebersetzt
und erljiuetert von J. H. von Kirchmann. Heidelberg: Verlag von Georg Weiss.
1882.

Spinozae Opera Pbilosophica. Vol. IV. Die Unvollendetcn Lateinischen Abhand-
lungen Spinoza's. Mit einer Einleitung herausgegeben von Hugo Ginsberg. Heidelberg:
Georg Weiss. 1882.

110 The Journal of Sj)eculative Philosophy.

The Clue of Faith, in Science and in Life : An Address before the Alumni Asso-
ciation of Haverford College, June 24, 1879. By Professor Nereus Mendenhall, A.M.,
M. D.

Ueber den Satz des Widerspruchs und die Bedeutung der Negation. Von J. J. Bore-
lius. Leipzig: Verlag von Erich Koscbny. 1881.

The Christian Religion. Mistakes of Robert G. IngersoU and his Reviewers. By Dr.
N. J. Cogswell. Silvara, Bradford County, Pa., August, 1882.

Studies in Central American Picture-Writing. By Edward S. Holden, Professor of
Mathematics, U. S. Naval Observatory. (Extracted from the First Annual Report of the
Bureau of Ethnology.) Washington. 1881.

Boston University Year-Book. Edited by the University Council. Vol. IX. Boston,
1882.

In Memoriam: Joseph Earl Sheffield. 'A Commemorative Discourse delivered by
President Porter, June 26, 1882.

Kleine Schriften von Christoph Sigwart. Zweite Reihe, Freiburg und Tubingen
akademische Verlagsbuchhandlung von J. C. B. Mohr.

Celestial Chemistry from the Time of Newton. By T. Sterry Hunt, LL. D., F. R. S.
(From the "American Journal of Science," Vol. XXIII, February, 1882.)

The Domain of Physiology; or. Nature in Thought and Language. By T. Sterry
Hunt, LL. D., F. R. S. Presented to the National Academy of Sciences, and read be-
fore it in Abstract, at Washington, April 18, 1881. Published in the London, Edin-
burgh, and Dublin " Philosophical Magazine " for October, 1881. Boston : S. E. Cassino.
1882.

Political Economy in One Lesson : A Lecture by Alphonse Courtois before the Philo-
techuic Association of Paris. Translated from the " Journal des Economistes " by
Worthington C. Ford. New York: The Society for Political Education. 1882.

Mind, Thought, and Cerebration. By Alexander Wilder.

Delle question! sociali e partigolarmente dei proletarj e del capitale. Libri tre di
Terenzio Mamiani. Roma; Fratelli, Bocca e Comp. 1882.

Programme du cours d'histoire politique du moyen age fait k I'Universite de Bruxelles
par Mart. Philippson. Bruxelles: G. Mayolez, Libraire-Editeur. 1880.

Comparative Ethics : I. Moral Stand-point. (Present Religion, Vol. III.) By Sara S.
Hennell, Author of " Thoughts in Aid of Faith," etc. London : Truebner & Co., Ludgate
HiU. 1882.

Philosophical Papers. Paul and Plato. By Alexander Wilder. No. I.

The Lawyer and the Lawyer's Questions. A Baccalaureate Discourse preached in
Assembly Hall, University of Wisconsin, June 18, 1882, by John Bascom. Mil-
waukee, 1882.

A Synopsis of the Scientific Writings of Sir William Herschel. Prepared by Edward
S. Holden and Charles S. Hastings. (From the Smithsonian Report for 1880.) Wash-
ington. 1881.

Eclaircissements sur quelques Particularites des Langues Tatares et Finnoises, par
F. L. 0. Roehrig. Paris: Chez Theophile Barrois. 1845.

Books Received. Ill

Anti-Kant oder Elemente der Logik, der Physik und der Ethik von Dr. Adolf BoUiger.
Erster Band. Basel, 1882. Verlag von Felix Schneider.

Ideismen. (1) Der Unbewusste Ideismus des Menschen in Versen erlautert. (2)Plu-
losophie, Biidung und Wissenschaft zueinander. Von Karl Weinholtz. Rostock:
Verlag des Verfassers. 1874.

Ideismus. Dritte Abtheilung. Grundmacht und Leitstern der Erziebung und Biidung.
Anhange. (1) Zur ideistischen Methode. (2) Zur ideistischen Tanzkunft. (3) Zur
Philosophirkunst. Von Dr. Karl Weinholtz. Rostock: Vorlag des Verfassers. 1879.

Deutscher Kriegessang, 1870-'71. Von Karl Weinholtz. Verlag des Verfassers
1871.

Der Sinn des Hanachino von K. Weinholtz. Rostock : Verlag des Verfassers. 1864.

Der Hanachino, vierpaariger Zehen-Hacken-Tanz. Gestaltung, tonige Entfaltung
Tind Beschreibung von K. Weinholtz. Rostock: Verlag des Verfassers. 1861.
Freimut. Schauspiel. By the same Author.

Der Alte Weg, die Bestimmungen und Mittel der Wissenschaft in unsrer Zeit. By
the same Author.

Die Erfahrungs-Logik. By the same Author.

Die organische Sprechschrift und Singschrift, zur Foerderung des lautrechten und
sinnvoUen Vortrags, von Karl Weinholtz. Rostock: Hermann Schmidt. 1860.

Bericht uber Entstehung und Fortgang des litterarischen Vereins in Stuttgart von
dem Praesidenten des Vereins Adelbert von Keller. Tiibingen. 1882.

Plymouth Pulpit: A Weekly Publication of Sermons preached by Henry Ward
Beecher in Plymouth Church, Brooklyn :

No. 1, "The Golden Net," shows the scope of St. Paul's exhortation to fish for men
Tvilh "whatsoever things are true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, or of good report;"
and closes with a brief review of Mr. Beecher's own thirty-five years of preaching in
Brooklyn, justifying his general methods as ba.^ed on the apostolic plan, declaring his
independence of sects and councils, and his fealty to Christ.

No. 2, " They Have their Reward," impressively develops the familiar connection be-
tween sowing and reaping, and, while granting that the followers of the lower instincts
"have their reward," such as it is, sets forth the Pauline doctrine of germinal evolu-
tion, and urges sowing to the spirit rather than to the flesh, as the surest beginning of a
Christian manhood.

No, 3, " The Personal Influence of God," is a plea for soul-intercourse with Christ, as
& means of coming under the direct living influence of the Deity — and this not a. vague
discourse of mysticism, but a practical instruction as to reproducing in one's self a spur-
itual likeness to the founder of Christianity, and making the human soul sensitive to the
divine soul.

No. 4, "The Principle of Spiritual Growth," analyzes what Jesus called the "expedi-
ency " of his leaving his disciples, and the earth he had come to save, to their own
efforts, in order that the very absence of the beloved One might develop faith and
strength to " live as seeing Him who is invisible."

No. 5, " The Personal Influence of God." New York : Fords, Howard k Hulbcrt.

The Royal Society of Canada. Inaugural Meeting, held in the City of Ottawa. May
25, 26, and 27, 1882.

112 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

The Maya Chronicles. Edited by Daniel G. Brinton, M. D. Philadelphia: D. G.
Brinton. 1882. The first Volume of Brinton's Library of Aboriginal American Lit-
erature.

Monograph of the Central Parts of the Nebula of Orion. By Edward S. Holden,
Professor of Mathematics, U. S. Navy. Washington, Government Printing Office,
1882.

Grundlegung der reinen Logilc. Ein Beitrag zur Loesung der logischen Frage von
Dr. George Neudecker, Privatdozent der Philosophic an der Universitaet Wuerzburg.
Wuerzburg, 1882.

Novissimum Organon. By J. F. Mallinckrodt. St. Louis : Hugh R. Hildreth Print-
ing Co. 1882.

The Concepts and Theories of Modern Physics. By J. B. Stallo. New York : D.
Appleton & Company. 1882.

Belief in God : an Examination of some Fundamental Theistic Problems. By M. J.
Savage. To which is added an address on " The Intellectual Basis of Faith." By W.
H. Savage. Boston : George H. Ellis, 141 Franklin Street. 1881.

Grundzuege der Religionsphilosophie. Dictate aus den Vorlesungen von Hermann
Lotze. Leipzig: Verlag von S. Hirzel. 1882.

The Subjection of Hamlet : An Essay towards an Explanation of the Motives of
Thought and Action of Shakespeare's Prince of Denmark. By William Leighton.
With an Introduction by Joseph Crosby. Philadelphia : J. B. Lippincott & Co.
1882.

Essays in Philosophical Criticism. Edited by Andrew Seth and H. B. Haldane.
With a Preface by Edward Caird. London: Longmans, Green & Co. 1883.

Transactions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh. Vol. XXIX, Part I. For the Ses-
sion of 1878-;79.

The same. Part II.

Proceedings of the Royal Society of Edinburgh. Session 18Y8-'79.

The same. Session 1879-'80.

William Downs Heukle : A Memorial Address. Read at the Thirty-third Annual Meet-
ing of the Ohio Teachers' Association, at Niagara Falls, N. Y., July V, 1882. By W. H.
Venable.

A Visit to Transylvania and the Consistory at Kolozsvar. By the Rev. J. H. Allen..
Boston: George H. Ellis, 141 Franklin Street. 1881.

A Drama of Creation : A Study of Swedenborg's Work entitled "The Worship and
Love of God." By the Rev. Frank Sewall, A. M. Reprinted from the "New Church
Review," October, 1882.

The Religion of Evolution as against the Religion of Jesus. By Professor W. H.
Wynn, Ph. D. From the " Lutheran Quarterly," January, 1882.

Voluntaryism in Higher Education. By M. B. Anderson, LL. D.

The University of the Nineteenth Century : What it is and what it will cost. Read
before the National Baptist Educational Convention by President M. B. Anderson, of
the Rochester University, New York.

THE JOURNAL

SPECULATIVE PHILOSOPHY

YoL. XVII.] April, 1883. [No. 2.

SWEDENBOKG AND HENRY JAMES.

BY WILLIAM H. KIMBALL (" THERON GKAY ").

That the system of truth involved in the wonderful treatises
of Emanuel Swedenborg covers a true doctrine of Creation, and is
thus fundamental to all that can interest mortal man, is evident
to me, and manifestly not less evident to certain others who have
studied and rightly considered that system. Among those who
have studied the great Seer with duly qualified affection and be-
coming intellectual force, the late Mr. Henry James may be
counted foremost. Indeed, Mr. James has given such devoted
zeal and royal vigor to the expositions he has made of Swedenborg,
that others fall mostly into the shade, in comparison. And it is a
question whether they do not, generally, more obscure than eluci-
date the master they wish to serve. Yet, the great purport of
Swedenborg's thought as a comprehensive s} stem, opening into all
true being, knowing, and doing — opening into " the way, the truth,
and the life " of Divine Mastery — remains almost uncom])rehended
and unsought, and earnest people run to and fro stretching their
weary vision for more light. Why, in view of the broad insight
of the master and the remarkable genius and power of the pupil,
do those commanding truths to which both were so constantly
pledged remain unimpressed upon the intellectual force of to-day,
XYII— 8

114 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

thus leaving thought largely to surge and swelter, concerning
most important problems at least, amid opinional distractions,
when it sliould be anchored in scientific certitude? "Why has
Swedenborg so voluminously written, and James so vigorously
explicated, principles and truths thus vital and necessary, and yet
so few see and understand ? Let us see if we can solve this prob-
lem in some measure, even though limited as we must be on this
occasion.

Mr. James treats of these great problems of Creator and Created
simply as a Christian philosopher. He is so devoted to pliilosophy
as to deem it adequate for every emergency ; hence he persistently
excludes science from all participation in philosophic problems.
To be sure, as a higher form of knowledge or actual science —
actual knowing, to a certain extent — he proclaims truth with
marked emphasis and certainty, even in this supreme realm. But
it is the utterance of philosophy, that is to impress one according
as the affections have first been qualified, and not a formulation
by manifest science, which no intellect can gainsay nor reject
when once understood.

It is the function of science to carry its own force, and compel
assent or conviction per force of manifest knowing and doing.
Science neither cherishes nor depends upon labored arguments.
It is its own argument, in that it actually is and does. It forces
conviction when it appears in its proper form.

Mr. James, with a heart all aglow with central life and an intel-
lect readily responsive, saw and proclaimed truth as " Divine
Philosophy " — most assuring to himself, and more or less impres-
sive upon such of his readers as were spiritually related thereto.
But it will hardly be supposed that he beheld it incarnated, or
embodied as formal science. He could not have apprehended it
as a measured and measuring system, that could be formulated
and defined, and applied to test the value of thought concerning
" the Highest." If he had done this, he would have claimed a
province of Divine Science as well as that of " Divine Philoso-
phy." Failing in this, and letting slip the principle of degrees
wherein aione such science is rooted, we find him relegating sci-
ence exclusively to the realms of rational knowledge, instead of
carrying it to its ultimate as a manifest body — the incarnation of
philosophy. This is emphatically an era of science. Whatever

Swedenhorg and Henry James. 115

the realm of human endeavor, conclusive and abiding results can
only be attained through scientific certitude. And such certitude
is no less needful and available as a ruling method of science in
higliest realms of thouglit than in the lower. Measured and
measuring order of knowledge, as universal science, is as real and
necessary as is such order necessary to the special sciences. Mr,
James seems to have taken little account of Sweden borg's princij)le
of degrees, which Swedenborg himself so fully elaborates. And
Swedenborg failed to give efficient form and best application
thereto, and thus left that principle standing without its true form
and proper force in application. It is designed to make this
appear, though a far more extended assay than we can here make
is requisite to give extensive application and desired force.

" The knowledge of degrees," says Swedenborg, " is, as it were,
the key to open the causes of things, and enter into them; with-
out it, scarcely anything of cause can be known." — D. L. <& W.,
184.

The ruling principle of discrete degrees is this : A 07ie is to be
rightly discriminated under threefold aspect, because every one
is, intrinsically, threefold in its elements. Let us take Society as
the one under view. In its first, involved or indefinite form or de-
gree it is a one of primary elements; simplistic and vague enough
as to any form becoming our present conceptions of society. In
its second degree it is the same one — society — though it is in an
entirely different form or order. It is here hnoion as society —
comes to definite form as such. It is here society in its partial,
broken, fragmentary forms, because, whereas the elementary j)riu„.
ciple of the first degree was that of indefinite involution, that of
the second degree expresses the element of definite evolution,
wherein the utmost diffraction and distraction occur. But under
the order of discrete degrees, as creative law, we shall find this one
— society— emerging from its broken, conflicting, and superficial
forms, and settling into a third and consummating form whose
glory shall fitly illustrate the Divine triunity itself, and whose
radiance shall " pale the light of sun, moon, and stars." For here
the one becomes a reality in its perfect degree — the degree that
composes, associates, Divinely orders all the elements under the
rule of perfect, scientific consociation.

Thus the form of this universal law is trinity-in-unity ; and the

116 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

elements involved are (1) the simplistic (involved). (2) the complex
(evolutionary), (3) the composite (evolved).

Under this conception of scientific order, I find the grand Crea-
tive Series standing;:

1st. Grod the Creator, necessarily indefinitely involving the
natural and the Divine Humanity.

2d. God the Creator definitely evolving the creaturely form in
the natural creation, wherein He wisely ludes Himself till that
form comes to due self-consciousness and self-assertion.

3d. Grod the Creator in creation clearly evolved, whereby Crea-
tor and creature become consciously one in Divine vitality, and
all human conditions become truly responsive to the inspiring-
Presence.

So, primarily, the three creative degrees cover the tohole realm,
and all special applications and analyses must be derived thence
and be kept true to that source in order to prove reliable and satis-
factory in results.

Althouo;h handlino- this law of deo;rees with much effect, I do
not find that Swedenborg clearly announced the elementary prin-
ciples of the degrees, nor do I see that he carried them, in applica-
tion, to best scientific issues.

The law of degrees furnishing, as claimed, a standing scientific
clew, derived from fixed character, or distinctive form inherent to
those degrees, a demand reasonably arises that we either exhibit
its practical form and use, or dismiss the great claim made in its
behalf.

Let us now try to formulate a subordinate or primary analysis,
related to a secondary analysis and definitions that will illustrate
the principle of Creative Triunity, and its method of application as
practical science.

Theme: CREATION, UNDER THE LAW OF TRITJNITY.

i Involving (1) The Simplistic Element (the Indifferent).

Creator- 1 Involving (2) The Complex Element (the Differentiating).

' Involving (3) The Composite Element (the Associating or Unitary).
jj C Evolving (1) The Simplistic Manhood (Common Human Force).

Creating • J Evolving (2) The Complex Manhood (Special Human Force).
' Evolving (3) The Composite Manhood (United Human Force).
TTT f Evolved (1) The Simplistic Manhood realized in Divine Order.

Createp • i Evolved (2) The Complex Manhood realized in Divine Form.

' Evolved (3) The Composite Manhood realized in Divine Order.

Swedenborg and Henry James. 117

Here, accordingly, is an analysis of Creative Elements that
comprehends the whole scope in distinct scientific form. True,
it does not name the physics of creation, for a true conception and
discussion of the great problems of God's true creation have no
direct reference to crude physical constitution, any more than
the art-conception of tlie artist has reference to, or involves,
the constitution of the quarry whence his material is derived.
The creative operation in Humanity is a process that, presup-
posing physical form, applies to the fashioning of Human Form
to Divinest issues, wherein it becomes filled with the glory of
the Lord. Hence, in a true doctrine of creation, the discussion
of i^hysical constitution has no sort of pertinence. Physical
constitution is a primary necessity, to be sure, as crude matter
is basic to art and artisanship that need material form as embody-
ing instrument, or as the material elements are requisite to human
corporeity.

Grod's true creation makes Natural Man the subjective terra,
and God-Man (Godly Man) the objective terra, ail things else
being the various instrumentalities and furnishings, and, finally,
the gorgeous livery of the Divine Humanity, or immaculate
God-Man realized as Creative End. So, let cheap natural science
no more try to nourish the human intellect with protoplastic
pabulum, nor tickle its fancy with visions of " star-dust." Neither
protoplasm, star-dust, nor other corporeal elements are of any direct
account to science in its supreme degree — the degree of Creative
Life, Activity, and Form ; though all 'become^ reflexly, a thousand
times more luminous with the glory of the Highest than they
•can ever appear by the best lumen of mere natural science. Let
us bear in mind, therefore, that the truths of creation, in any
sense that can satisfy the yearning desires of the soul, are not
truths of physics, excepting as physics are subsidiary or j)rovisioiial
to metaphysics. They are truths of God ''s creator and Man as
creature, both subjectively and objectively. Hence any scientific
(formally valid) estimate of the essential nature of the Creator, the
essential order of the creative operations in human nature^ and
the essential order of the Divine Natural Unmanity in creative
ultimate^ will effectually cover the whole theme in its amplest
scope, and leave nothing to do but to conform human states,
thoughts, and activities to the rule of these principles of eternal

118 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

law, thus making Divine and human authority one power in
human affairs.

The case is similar, in very limited or special regards, when a
teacher, professor, or master in his vocation — as, for instance, a
Botanist — conforms his own conduct or authority strictly to the
ruling principles of the science — is wholly one with its immutable
commands — and thus is the powerful instrument to effect Botanic
culture. " It is hard to kick against the pricks." We may work
e2.B\\jwith science, but only amid tumult and painful toils against
it. And this is true in regard to that commanding science which,
definitely comprehending human nature as societary force, is in-
strumental ly available to qualify and order that force into perfect
society. We come, accordingly, to an ampler rendering of the
principles mainly in view, in order to find whether human knowl-
edge may not become perfectly assured as to that which is of
transcendent human interest. We proceed to a more thorough
analysis and fuller definitions of the moments given under the
head " Creating." It is here that interest mainly centres, for
this degree covers the spheres of human development under the
generative operations of Creative Wisdom. When this realm
becomes clearly explored, as to its pervading laws, by the objec-
tive light of the ultimate degree — the degree of composure in
"the way, the truth, and the life" — and the ruling forces in
human affairs are brought into strict conformity with such knowl-
edge, human advance towards Divine order will become astonish-
ingly rapid. For the Kingdom of God in the earth is an evolution
in its procedure, as the Master so constantly taught ; and, when men
conform their ways to the manifest laws of that Kingdom, compara-
tive peace will at once ensue, even before great progress is made
in qualifying conditions. The designs of the Supreme Architect
in human society are perfect. So long as we, the builders, igno-
rantly patch and bungle, putting up disorderly fenders to protect
from heats and chills and storms, as they variously play upon us,
so 'ong do we obstruct and deform the structure. So long, too,
heaven's fierce fiuids will play upon us to tear away the deformi-
ties we project. If a builder were to construct his edifice by
piecemeal in temporary defences against the assaults of the ele-
ments, rather than in intelligent consistency with architectural
designs, his structure would be a horror to sight and a peril to-

Swedenborg and Henry James. 119

life; yet we, the nnwise builders of the great social structure
God has designed, still boggle and botch, and distrust Divine
Providence, who cannot consent to our blunders, and give us
social security and quiet under them.

But we are not just now so intent upon applying principles, as
laws of social conduct, as we are to exhibit the nature and scope
of a commanding system, and thus to discover whatever short-
comings may appear in Swedenborg's rendering of a principle of
matchless power and worth.

As already intimated, we hold that Swedenborg failed to give
a practical definition of the distinctive nature of discrete degrees,
and thus inevitably failed to carry them, in application, to their
commanding issues. For such reasons, it is believed, he did not
fulfil the demands of science in its supreme realm ^ however
forcibly he may have promulgated its leading principle, and
given a true base for philosophic estimates of the great problems
of Life and Being.

Let us, then, turn to our full analysis of the secondary degree
of the creative series (" Creating"), and try to find what our law
of discrete degrees, as already defined, will do to exhibit the ele-
ments of human nature and the order of those elements in the scale
of human development. We are surveying Human Nature as
Divinely vitalized at its very core, and, therefore, one unbroken
power that carries every individual of the race, in varied states
of culture and utmost contrariety of personal experience. But
from the very form of the individual mind as a threefold power,
with wisdom as ground of Divine Eevelation, or Logostic per-
ception ; reason as a ground of distinctive human appreciation, or
analogic perception of the Highest by proper illumination ; and
the lower degree, of sense^ as a ground of symbologic perception
of highest realities when duly reflected from above ; the whole
realm of the mind cannot be duly appealed to, excepting through
methods that will embody eternal truth to lower and lowest hu-
man faculty; concrete it, as it were, into adamantine firmness.
It is thus that lowest human powers, rightly disposed, may come
to ready participation in sublimest realities. So we not only
desire to make a logical statement of the primary factors of crea-
tive law, and, to some extent, a rational expose analogically, but

120

The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

also to symbolize to the eye by a formulation tliat will effectually
embody the whole truth " in ultimates.^'' The formal embodi-

Swedenhorg and Henry James. 121

raent, and through that practical uses, is the '' ultimate "as formal
science of creative elements. The diagrams of Creative Order
(illustrative symbol), presented on opposite page, were projected
many years ago, in order to aid the author's own thought and hold
It conclusively fixed upon the creative elements duly analyzed and
synthetized, and it is thought that they cannot fail to aid others who
may be interested in these matters, discussed by Swedenhorg and
Mr. James— matters so important to consider and so difficult to com.
prehend as science. The first one— with the light centre of four
triangular forms and three shaded external hemispheres consisting
of nine triangular forms— is presented as*a symbol of the order ot
the Creative Operations (" Creating "). It is designed, in the first
place, to represent the constant intimacy of the Divine and Hu-
man elements in creation, under all the varying states of the crea-
turely form as real to consciousness, and also in that indefinite
form prior to distinct human consciousness. The light spaces in
the centre (0, I, II, III) symbolize Creative Being as constantly
the inmost life to creaturely form, and the dark external hemi-
spheres (1-9) represent the threefold order of the human form in
development— the order of creaturely development corresponding
to the essential order of the human form as a triunity of character
already defined. This diagram is designed, in the second pi ace
to represent the threefold order, in development, of the threefold
elementary forms of creaturely constitution — the simplistic, com-
plex, and composite, in human nature. And this analysis relates
to the subject as a trine form of mind, a trine form of thought as
the productive, versatile activity of mind, and to the trine order
of visible activities and uses in the course of such development.
The first shaded hemisphere (1, 2, 3 :) stands for the developing
states of consciousness in the general or common human nature :
or, more truly, it is the degree of actual human unconsciousness.
For, a creaturely state of life does not become an intelligent expe-
rience, real to consciousness, until it becon.es woven into the con-
sciousness through an educational process not comprehensible in
itself. Creation is from highest to lowest — from God to Man —
hence any distinctive form of creaturely life must be Divinely
given, and thence humanly appropriated by a toilsome process of
subjective energy, before the subject can become duly conscious
thereof. God is not an impostor ; He does not impose the goods

122 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

He confers upon the creaturely form as if that form were a dead
machine, but makes it a living subject, freely receptive and ap-
propriating the Divine providences, " as of self," as Swedenborg
significantly phrases it. Both Swedenborg and Mr, James very
distinctly emphasize this important truth.

Proceeding, then, in our definition, we come to say : the second
shaded hemisphere (4, 5, 6 :) stands for the developing states
of consciousness in special or particular human personality real-
ized in " selfhood ; " and the third (7, 8, 9 :) stands for the de-
veloping states of consciousness in the associate or unitary human
form.

As already seen, these various forms are creatively real or
Divinely implanted in human nature at the very initial of each
degree. A form is ingenerated in Creative Life, is thence gen-
erated in natural form as seed-form or planting there, and thence
regenerated in natural realms, where, at the end of the regen-
erative process, the matter becomes a full fruition to experience,
and thus invested with full significance to the creaturely form.
Whence it may clearly appear that Creative Fruition — Divine
Man — must be an initial reality in creaturely realms — a Divine
Incarnation — at the transition point from complex development
to composite development — the transition point from ripest self-
hood, as pharisaically illustrated, to societary " seed " given in
Jesus Christ as a planting for societary fruition. And it may
further appear that no proper understanding of the nature and
significance of this Incarnation — this natural planting of a Divinest
reality — could by any possibility be realized by natural man in
his then immature states. The immediate disciple, instructed by
the intimate Divine presence, must have had some vital sense of
the reality, but he could have had no full knowledge. The hus-
bandman, with faith in some promise of important results, might
plant an unknown seed and have a tolerable sense of the seed
itself, in its outward form, at least ; but he must come to the har-
vest, and convert it in experience — in actual uses — in order to
fully comprehend it. And, unless he had experienced the general
order of development from fruit to fruit again duly multiplied,
he would naturally get discouraged and distrust the promise,
when he found the given form as a planting had totally disap-
peared, and only rank stock remained visible. So, the Divine

Swedenlorg and Henry James. 123-

Seed, implanted in Human Nature at tlie initial point of that na-
ture's fruitional degree of evolution, must have been, at best, only
ver}'- partially comprehended at the time, and quite lost to those
who, coming after, beheld only the obscuring hmks — the external
formal vesture of the inworking Spirit. And at last, when, like
the ripening husk of the grain, old forms give token of departing
life, and interior realities as a fruition to God's creating presence
and power in human affiiirs are mostly unknown, as also unseen,
the decline of faith becomes inevitable, and reckless human self-
assertion, in manifold forms, comes largely to the front in expe-
rience.

But we must not permit extended diversion from leading de-
signs. Discussion proper to a periodical publication forbids an
extended explication of the numerous aspects of thought and
activities naturally transpiring during the processes of the creative
unfoldings of the human form or creaturely nature ; yet there are
points that must not be overlooked at this time. A commanding
one is this: In all states of the distinctive human consciousness
(1-9) the Divine and Human are in such constant intimacy in
reality that the inmost human state is always vital with Divine
Life. So, this human form has actually fully rounded dimensions,
however one-sided it may seem. That is, it has a conscious hemi-
sphere in the beclouded realm of the natural experience, and an
unconscious hemisphere in the luminous realm of inmost Being.
This is imaged by the diagram first in view, thus : When the
creaturely form is naturally conscious in lowest hemisphere or ex-
treme simplism (1, 2, 3 :), his unconscious heing is in Creative Being
to the extent of the hemisphere of light represented by spaces 0,
I, II. When, likewise, he is in the degree of natural conscious-
ness represented by the shaded hemisphere 4, 5, 6 :, his unconscious
heing is in God to the extent of the luminous hemisphere 0, H,
III. And when he is self-conscious in the degree represented by
hemisphere 7, 8, 9:, his unconscious heing is in the lumen of the
hemisphere 0, III, I. Whence is sensibly illustrated the impor-
tant truth that "in God we live, move, and have a being"— that
Creator and creature are vitally one in actual Being constantly,
and only alienated to creaturely consciousness during the tumultu-
ous states of existential development.

Another point that has already been measurably touched, but i*

124 TTie Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

jet of such impressive import that it may well be urged anew,
is this : the essential form of a degree or human state is not an
intelligent reality or full experience to creaturely form during the
unfolding process of that degree. It only becomes such .during
the operations of the next degree. Thus the common (simplex)
human form, in development, has its root in the unal element (I)
of eternal Being ; germinates in " 1 " of the first developing hemi-
sphere (as vegetable germ quickens to life in the seed buried in
earth) ; mediately unfolds in " 2 " of that hemisphere (as in the
germinal vegetable process the old seed-form tends to dissolution
and the new form tends to subjective distinction); and grows to
fruition of its form in " 3 " of that hemisphere (as vegetable germ
comes to full germinal form and breaks its earthy barriers for a
new career amid heavenly airs and sunshine). Thence the next
degree, as shaded hemisphere 4, 5, 6 :, illustrating complex develop-
ment — development in specific selfhood — is rooted in the dual
element of Being (II), quickens in conscious human selfhood in
" 4," unfolds more forcibly in that selfhood in " 5," and conclu-
sively forms or matures in that selfhood in " 6 " of that hemisphere.
This series corresponds with stock-growth in the plant.

The consummating form of human development is illustrated
by the shaded hemisphere 7, 8, 9 :, and is grounded in the com-
posite element of Being (the trine) represented by Roman numer-
als, III. This form quickens in associate or fraternal vitality in
" 7," more definitely unfolds in composite power in " 8," and
thence ripens in that majestic order in " 9." Here development
ends in full composite power duly ordered, fitly symbolized by
numeric " 10," where, as a symbol of this numeric power, the
primary term (0), previously unknown as embodying power, be-
comes an instrumental form equivalent to the whole power of the
series 1-9 : this ninefoldness being extended indefinitely in higher
associations.

If we still hold the vegetable form as the corresponding symbol,
this process — conclusion at " 9 " and transition into " 10 " — is for-
cibly illustrated by the ripened grain that throws off the husk
(now dead), that before obscured the intrinsic treasures beneath
imposing exterior, and. displays "the golden grain" in all its ob-
jective glory. Thus it is that ear-blade, ear-growth, and ear-ripe-
ness make a fit symbol, in the mouth of the Divinely Revealed

Swedenborg and Henry James. 125

God-Man, of the initial, unfolding, and unfolded order of God's
Kingdom iu the earth. And thus it is that the fully composite,
associate, or unitary order planted in human nature, as the Di-
vine Incarnation, works as Holy Spirit (spirit of wholeness) in the
serene depths central to all our human jars and painful strug-
gles, and points clearly to the glory of a new era of Creative
Fruition, when it may be said : "The kingdoms of this world are
become the kingdom of our Lord and his Christ."

It is seen ' now, we trust, that a scientific formulation and ex-
plication of the great principle of creative law, announced and
partially defined and elaborated by Swedenborg — even thougii
our rendering is necessarily very brief — verifies the essential reali-
ties presented to the vision of that remarkable Seer, and, as we
are persuaded, gives every earnest mind an infallible clew both to
the Master and his most worthy expositor, Mr. James.

Swedenborg's system of thought, when logically constructed,
works a complete revolution in current ideas of Creation. It ex-
plodes the old notion of an arbitrary creation wrought by God as
an outside force and terminating in physics humanly animated in
primitive or merely natural man. It maintains that the creature's
vital substance is constantly the Creator, as his inmost being.
And althouo-h it seems to aifirm creative " ultimate" as occurring
in the primitive or Adamic nature, thence making a re-creation
necessary to carry the creature up to Divine conjunction in true
felicity of life, yet a proper rendering of the law of discrete de-
grees, by a consistent unitary principle, will hold the matter firmly,
(1) as Creative Insistence in Ahsohite Being ; (2) Creative Exist-
ence in human appearing ; (3) Creative Suhsistence in Divine
Htiman appearing and being as one — this being Creative End.
Swedenborg variously formulates the order of the degrees, verbally,
with a constancy becoming his supreme devotion to highest truth ;
though not, we are confident, in a way compatible with tlie full
demands of science.

' " It is seen," we say, because our essay presupposes a knowledge, on the part of
the reader, of Swedenborg's intellectual attitude concerning tlie principles under dis-
cussion. And, as it is not practicable to quote here sufficiently to give a syetcmatic
view of his thought, we can only recommend to the interested reader a perusal of his
treatises, especially upon this subject of discrete degrees. His little work, known as
" Divine Love and Wisdom," will be found sufficient for this purpose.

1^6 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

As a system of creative philosophy, somewhat involved, and also
a system of science in form still more involved, his thought gets
forcible and extended enunciation under his hand, and more spe-
cific elaboration as a philosophic system under the cogent hand-
ling of Mr, James. And it seemed only to need a more distinct
showing of the elementary nature of the creative degrees, and
strict scientific thesis, analysis, and synthesis accordingly, to make
the whole as comprehensive and commanding, practically, as could
be desired.

In order to see, by his own expression, how his thought bears
upon the problem of Creation, let us briefly quote him :

" In the created universe, both in its greatest and in its least
parts, these three — end, cause, and efiect — exist, because they exist
in God the Creator, who is the Lord from eternity." — D. L. cfe
W., 169.

"... the end is all in the cause and all in the effect ; hence it
is that end, cause, and effect are called the first end, the middle
end, and the ultimate end." — Id., 168.

" The universal end, which is the end of all things in creation,
is, that there may be an eternal conjunction of the Creator with
the created universe ; and this is impossible unless there be sub-
jects in which His Divine may be as in Himself, consequently in
which it may dwell and remain, which subjects, in order that they
may be His habitations and mansions, must be recipients of His
love and wisdom as from themselves." — Id., 170.

" That end, cause, and effect are in all and singular the things
of creation, is evident when it is considered that all effects, or ulti-
mate ends, become anew first ends, in a continual series from the
Lord the Creator, who is the first, to the conjunction of man with
Him, which is the last."— /c?., 1Y2.

" It is to be observed that every degree is distinguished from
another by its proper coverings, and all the degrees together are
distinguished by their common covering; and that the common
covering communicates with the inner and inmost in their order."
—Id., 194.

"... the prior degrees are in their fulness in their ultimate."
Id., 217.

These must suffice as hints of the order of his thought concern-
ing the law of degrees as a principle of universal order. His con-

Swedenborg and Henry James. 127

ception of the principles of " successive order " and "simultaneous
order," as pertaining to these degrees, is quite equally important.
In the diagrams already presented, these principles are very clearly
illustrated. The first one, with shaded degrees illustrating the
human form in order of creative development, very distinctly
typifies "successive order." The other diagram, with its three
circular forms firmly united in the Centre, thus representing tlie
full-orbed and fully illumined consciousness in creative fruition
realized, well depicts the principle of "simultaneous order."
This symbol is easily understood by one who has understandingly
followed our exposition of the laws of creative development. The
threefold elements of human nature are never lost or dismissed in
their successive operations. In " the ultimate" they are simply
perfected. Divinely qualified, associated and actuated in ways ever
new and fresh with new inspirations ; like the opening day of the
Springtime, or the movement of musical harmonies and the re-
sponsive bounds of young life in the orderly combinations and
transitions of " the merry dance." Indeed, were it not for this
great play of human life in the Divine-Human Order of the
future, all these simple shadows, that so thrill our poor life of
to-day with their flashy tinsel, would be without living soul, and
speedily perish with the moving, natural personalities that oper-
ate them. The whole natural world would collapse for want of
vital fibre.

This second diagram represents the threefold elements of human
nature in triune order, in the full light and life of Creative End.
In the Divine Natural Manhood, conje to conscious experience in
mind, thought, and outward conditions truly ordered, there is no
darkness in any sphere. The previous darkened half-spheres of
consciousness become here luminous whole spheres, all vital with
immortal vigor and playing in Divine accordance, because all are
duly conscious of the Eternal Centre wherein they are formed and
united, and where they realize the great law of Harmony in the
Life and Light of Creative Triunity. When, too, the external or
natural mind becomes thus Divinely illumined and consciously
one with its inspiring Centre, it is found that all forms of the ex-
ternal are firmly united in each other, and this unity is firmly
fixed in the Central Life itself. " Each in all and all in each " is
the law of full organic composition— every one in the universal

128 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

■end the universal in every one as a constant living experience.
This second diagram distinctly illustrates this perfected degree of
consciousness: a state i\\?it 7'ealizes to human form yA\2X is ever
true — namely, the constant presence of Creative Life in the crea-
turely nature.

In virtue of the Living Word inherent to the Human Form —
the "Life that lighteth every man that cometh into the world" —
there is a monition to the cojnmon sense which forbids that the
natural life shall re*^ or remain in thegrossness of its mere animal
proclivities. The same monitor is a perpetual spur to the culti-
vated or special sense — the moral sense — forbidding that the indi-
vidual life remain and rest in the antag-onisms and conflicts native
to the mere human selfhood. So, too, there is the same, as Divinest
monition to the cesthetic sense, that forbids any rest to man —
whether in individual or collective regards — short of full partici-
pation in infinite Goodness and Truth, with all the Divine Har-
monies they involve. The rn\& oi physical force^ adapted to the
lowest developing conditions ; of ethical force proper to the higher
conditions; and of msthetic force as suited to highest conditions
of culture — will all be found duly instrumental in effecting progress
to desired results ; and, when they are employed scientifically, the
morning of the New Day will begin to dawn upon us.

There is no question but Mr. James is right in maintaining that
Swedenborg's books form the base of a new intellectual system of
immense importance, yet Mr. James himself seemed well aware
that the great promise of the work, as a system, was not fulfilled
by the labors so faithfully devoted thereto in the treatises of the
great Seer. A system, to be clear and commanding as such, must
be brought to its "ultimate." It must attain embodiment — come
to perfect form as positive science. In no other way can it be the
ready instrument to cleave the fossilated ages of error and super-
stition, and give the human intellect the Divine Mastery to which
it rightly aspires. There are occasionally men of exceptional
genius, like Mr. James, who gather the truth from first principles,
and dispense it thence in generous measure to the few who, with
qualified philosophical insight, come to ready sympathy and fellow-
ship in the treasures thus disclosed. But the majority of intellects,
of a sturdy practical nature, cannot be reached by doctrines and

Swedenhorg and Henry James. 129

theories logically explicated, especially when those doctrines and
theories concern problems of our human origin and destiny. There
was probably never greater interest and more earnest quest con-
cerning highest realities ; but such interest and search need help
that logic and philosophy cannot give till they culminate in science
in its highest form. A large class of active intellects demand
demonstration by positive methods, and scorn or deride what tliey
regard as mere personal opinion or airy speculation. And these
are not generally much impressed by Swedenborg's system ; for,
although he clearly sounded the key-note to science in its ultimate
form, he did not fully delineate and define the elements, and formu-
late a tangible system as comprehensive creative law. lie saw
clear enough that "all things are in human form," and that " the
laws of the human mind are the laws of the universe," yet it was
one thing to see this and make it the base of a wonderful elabora-
tion of most vital truths, and quite another thing to analyz'e and
synthetize his theme, and give his logic the formal lineaments of
exact science — a science that, clearly appearing in its own form,
would thence steadily explore the problems of mind, though*^
and experience, and leave no uncertain sounds to confuse and
bewilder.

It is hoped that the outlines that have been here briefly traced
may be found serviceable as an index to amplest scientific certi-
tude. Surely the threefold elements, as defined, are so necessary
and sufficient to Creative Order that there were no possible con-
sistency short of the three, and nothing beyond imaginable to add
to the fulness. As elements of Creative Being, without which
actual creation could never occur, they are as indispensable as, in
G-eometry, axe point, line, and curve; or as to comprehending
thought are thesis, antithesis, and synthesis. But, beyond strict
classification and definition, application in use as universal law is
requisite to give the proper practical test of the real value and
power inherent to the system. Manifestly a sufficient criterion of
highest realities must be adduced in order to realize a science of
the Highest. Swedenborg's and James's logic and i)hilosophy,
rightly rendered as science, assuredly furnish this criterion.

All scientific discrimination will constantly take strict account
of the difi'erence between developed and developing conditions.
Developing process involves a career amid various complications
XVII- 9

W& The Journal of Speculati/oe Philosophy.

^nid appearances that more or less misrepresent or obscure devel-
oped results. Developed conditions reveal and explain all previ-
•o«B tl*roes, however toilsome and distressing.

FACTS OF CONSCIOUSNESS.'

TBANSLATBD VBOU THB OBBHAN OF J. O. FICHTB BT A. E. KBOEOIB.

BooE Second. — Facts of Conscioiisness in Regard to the Prac^

cal Faculty.

Chapter V.

NATURE AND THE INDIVIDUAL.

At this insight, that the material world is merely absolute limi-
tation of the productive power of the imagination, one question
still remains in part unanswered, namely: What is that which
limits in this limitation ?

The question might be put : 1. What is , the ground why life
limits itself at all ? To this the answer is, Because it represents
itself in an image, and an image is always limited and determined.

Or, 2. Why is life limited in this particular manner? This
question has already been answered, in part, as follows : Because
the original and absolute power of imagination is limited ; and
hence originates extension, quality generally, and externality out-
side of the Ego, all of which constitute the mere empty form of
external contemplation, which has no inner significance at all. But
we have already shown that the real Inner Essence of the world,

' [Various reasons have compelled us to discontinue, for a time, the publication of
Fichte's "Facts of Consciousness." We shall now take it up again and continue it
to the end. The work deserves careful study, as the first part of it constitutes an ad-
mirable introduction to the Science of Knowledge, while the second part is a clear
exposition of the religious aspect of the Science of Knowledge, as developed by Fichte
in the later period of his life. For convenience of reference to the former portion of
this book, the reader may note that the parts already published are to be found in
the following places : Vol. v, " Jour. Spec. Phil," pp. 63, 1 30, 226, 338 ; vol. vi, pp.
42, 120^ 332 ; vol. vii, Jan., p. 86.— En.]

Facts of Consciousness. 131

as a resistance to the power of free life, must be something quite
different, must be, in fact, itself a j?ow;er — a pure noumenon^ which
no external contemplation can reach. This power or force is in-
deed the world, and, as such, the world is posited and altogether
determined.

Whence does this determination or limitation arise as the only
genuine, true, and original limitation ? Evidently through original
thinking itself, and in the following way :

The world, even in its inner character, as a force, and as a re-
sisting force, is to be object of the. causality of the one common
Ego ; and the force or power of this world is to be overcome by
the power of that one common life. In this subjugation a certain
determined power of life, peculiarly and essentially belonging to
it, will, no doubt, make itself visible to universal contemplation.
Now, since by the law of our science we never start from a pre-
sumptive world in itself, but always from life alone, how would it
be if that resistance, the real inner power or force of the world,
were originally posited and thought only as pure resistance and as
nothing else, hence as that wherein the power of life and in oppo-
sition to which the power of life made itself visible ?

The matter now stands thus :

Life represents itself in its unity. Being life, it is a power — a
determined, peculiar power; and, moreover — since we know it to
be a principle — an infinite power within its determinedness. We
did not say that life represented itself in its unity internally, in
the thinking heretofore described — indeed, our whole previous in-
ternal representation was not one of unity, but merely a partial
one — but that life represented itself externally and in external
contemplation. Hence, it cannot represent its power — in its es-
sence, of course, for its formal condition we have already discov-
ered in an internal but individual contemplation — as something
altogether internal in this form; and the power remains in the
described thinking, precisely because it is a self-externalizing,
utterly unseen and invisible. Hence, if this power must never-
theless be represented in such a thinking — and, since it is a life
which is to be represented, it cannot well be represented other-
■wise — it can be represented only in a resisting object— that is,
we must add and think together with it a somewhat, which
would be fullv annihilated if the power of life were completely

132 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

developed. Now, if such a somewhat is added and posited —
and such a somewhat is, according to us, that very internal
world, which we may now, having properly raised it to its rank as
a nouraenon, call Nature — the inner power of life, although kept
invisible, would yet be its real determining master, since this na-
ture would contain only that which the power of life itself con-
tained, but in its very opposite. And if we called the thinking of
such an opposite limited — i. ^., limited to precisely such a thinking,
the invisible limiting part of this thinking — the hidden premise of
its contents would be the very being of the power of life itself.
Now, suppose that the power of life developed itself actually with-
in this thinking, then this same power, which was at first and
without this thinkins; of a resistance alto^-ether invisible, would
become visible in this its being developed through contact with
the resistance for a form of contemplation, which contemplates
only in opposition, and hence beholds everything only as limited
by its opposite. The power, thus developing itself, would hence-
forth always appear as limited by the resistance posited in ad-
vance by thinking, and would be visible only in a form of con-
templation, thus constituted.

RemarTis. — The Science of Knowledge holds Nature to be noth-
ing else than the opposite, which absolute thinking has formed, to
the absolute power of free and spiritual life, and which that think-
ing has thus formed necessarily in order to make that power visible,
it being in itself invisible.

Now, when you tell this to a " Natural Philosopher," and say to
him that Nature is merely a limit, merely a negative, and nothing
positive at all, he gets angry, and cries out aloud about the out-
rage committed on Nature. But that is all he does. For to enter
upon the arguments of the Science of Knowledge, and to refute
them by proving the opposite of what has just been advanced,
would require a faculty of acute and logical thinking, of following
a very extensive series of thoughts, and of employing a more than
usual degree of dialectical art.

But what dim feeling is it, really, which so excites their wrath,
and which certainly must have some weighty ground ? It is scarcely
to be expected that we shall ever learn it from them ; hence we
must try to put speech into their mouths. The matter is this :

The conception of an Absolute Being, altogether of itself, through

Facts of Consciousness. 133

itself and in itself, is ineradicablj impressed upon consciousness;
and just as ineradicablj there is impressed upon consciousness the
impossibility of transferring this conception to itself (to the Ego)
and of positing itself in any way as the Absolute. Now, those phi-
losophers, together with all their contemporaries, have believed the
Science of Knowledge to make the Ego that Absolute, in violation
of the ineradicable consciousness before mentioned. Believing this,
they, of course, were forced to improve on such a system. But this
improvement turned out to be an unhappy one, since they made
Nature the Absolute, after it had resulted, of course, that the
Ego could not well be the Absolute. They argued : Either the Ego
or Nature ; there is no third ; for their range of vision reached
only these two. Their wrath is excited, really, because they think
that, since we will not let Nature pass for the Absolute, we must
necessarily make the Ego the Absolute. But in this they are mis-
taken ; we draw no such consequence ; for our more extensive
range of vision embraces something more than those two factors.

Nature remains for us a mere limit, subordinated to the Ego, its
pure product, namelyj as one life. An Absolute outside of the
Ego and of Nature, extending to the former, and by its means
also to the latter, their proper point of support, we shall learn to
obtain in another way.

Let no one here hasten to put in the mediation of those ever-
ready peacemakers, who would say that the whole matter is proba-
bly a mere word- dispute. True, we know, as cannot well be
otherwise, and we are sorry for it, that, in thus making Nature
the Absolute, they, at the same time, constitute Nature their God ;
and we know also very well that they do not really represent the
separate objects of Nature as being such God, but transfer this
their conception of God to a common World-soul or internal Force
of Nature underlying all phenomena of Nature, which Force of
Nature, indeed, if matters turn out well, and if a proper height of
sublimity is attained, is said to project itself in some phenomena
of Nature as self -consciousness. (If they were at all habituated to
thinking closely whatever they think instead of indulging in super-
ficial phantasies, they would comprehend, at this very place in
their system, that there is no thinkable transition whatever from
a force of Nature, simply manifesting itself, to a return of such
force into itself in a duality and form of reflection 1) But we

134 The Jov/rnal of Speculative Philosophy.

see clearly that every principle, which is to be realiter a prin-
ciple of sensuous appearance, is itself sensuous, and cannot be at
all thought as supersensuous and spiritual ; not even as an Ego,
much less as God ; and that hence only two ways are open to-
them. Either they should confess that they lack insight into the
unity and connection of the appearance, seizing it only separately
and scattered about as it presents itself, and that hence they are
no philosophers ; or, if they will lay claim to this title, and thus ad-
mit a supersensuous and spiritual as real, they must utterly drop
their reality of the sensuous, since it is absolutely impossible ta
connect the two ; and they must learn to comprehend the whole
sensuousness as mere form of contemplation of the supersensuouSy
even as the Science of Knowledge comprehends it.

According to all that we have said before, the sensuous world
is no more an object of experience than the previously established
parts of the self-representation of life in its unity, but is altogether
a something a priori. It is not a foreign something, which enters
into contemplation and thinking, but is necessarily grounded in
them. Its universal, external form, materiality and quality in
general, originates in the peculiar form of the power of imagina-
tion ; hence it does not belong to itself, but to the latter, and is
formed in opposition to it. As we said before : The limitation of
the power of imagination makes an object visible — so now we may
say : The object makes visible the power of imagination, and its in-
ternal determinedness — for instance, of infinity. Moreover, since
consciousness must begin somewhere, and must begin precisely at
this point, the power of imagination here becomes first partially
visible ; and this its form here first enters the range of vision. It
is true that, in order to recognize this form as form of the power
of imagination, and as an absolute form, we need something else —
namely, free reflection, which itself, however, is possible only un-
der the condition of that immediate contemplation of the object.
Thus matters stand in regard to the external form. But the in-
ternal part of the sensuous world is, as we have described it just
now, the expression of the real, final, and original power of life
by its opposite. It is, therefore, formed through the real power,,
just as matter, etc., is formed through the power of imagination..
This inner sensuous world is determined by that power of life^
and nothing can arise in it except its opposite and annihilating^

Facts of Consciousness. 1I8&

power be in that power of life. Tlie sensuous world is thus
nothing but an image by means of the opposite of the power of
life according to the two chief forms of the latter, imaginative and
real power; it is, therefore, absolutely determined a priori, and
not accidental. (There is positively nothiug in it but the compo-
nent parts of this image; take them away, and nothing remains,
no residuum, no unknown something = x.)

We have shown above that the sensuous world is not posited by
the individual as such, but as one life ; and this also appears from
the mere analysis of the thinking of a sensuous object. That
which is individual is perceived simply because the Ego in its
inner contemplation perceives itself as the principle of that indi-
vidual ; hence, it is visible, and exists only as the result of that
principle, as we have seen above in the instances of the freely pro-
duced conception of a purpose of reproduction, etc. But, as such,
it ceases the moment that the Ego ceases to hold it fixed by imme-
diate production. Hence, a fixed, independent existence, indepen-
dent of free representation, does not pertain to it. Now, if we
produced objects in this manner we should regard them as repre-
sentations, which would drop away as soon as we should cease to
represent them. (Idealism is often described as assuming this to
be the case, but it is a complete misapprehension.) But we ascribe
to them an independent being, as a sign that we give them an
image of a being, which we, as individuals, cannot take away
from them again, and which does not depend upon our inner con-
templable freedom : namely, an image of the One. They are not
representations ; hence, they are things themselves immediately.
We do not have and possess these things in our immediate con-
templation through representatives, but we possess themselves in
their immediate essence, since, in reality, they are, after all, noth-
ing but appearances, and the appearances which we (the uni-
versal Ego) possess ourselves. This extremely important and
altogether misapprehended point of our Idealism must be strin-
gently insisted upon. There are systems, for instance, according to
which things do not appear as they are in themselves, but are
changed in a manifold manner by our representations. The
fundamental error lies here, in the circumstance that another
being than the being of their appearance is attributed to them.
According to us, the things appear absolutely as they are, for they

136 The Journal of Sjpeculative Philosophy.

are nothing else than their appearance. They are throughout and
throughout appearance, to use an expression which was formed, as
it seems, to terrify us, but which we quietly appropriate to our own
advantage.

Besides — to prove our proposition by another side of the analy-
sis — the objects of the sensuous world are posited immediately as
absolutely valid for others as soon as we reflect upon such objects
and gather them up in the act of objective thinking, a sure proof
that all we have now described is a single synthetical thinking
period, through which the whole external world arises for us.

Chapter VI.

GENERAL REMARKS.

We review all the preceding in order to attach to it some
general remarks.

Result of the Whole. — The presupposed life of consciousness
represents itself in its unity immediately through itself. The ob-
jective views of the world hitherto established are those represen-
tations. It is true that that life of consciousness is broken, which
means that it is repeatable many times as the same life — for, as
yet, we have not noticed any real iimer distinctions of the indi-
viduals, but have considered them all as the same.

1. Now, how did we arrive at this result ? Evidently without
any argumentation and proof, and merely by the free maxim of
our science to regard consciousness as a particular phenomenon
of itself, without any foreign mixture ; hence, by mere scientific
form. In this, therefore, all philosophy, which claims to be a
science for itself, ought to agree with us. But the philosophers
opposed to us in this have not even allowed consciousness to pass
for an appearance standing on its own feet. Our treatment finds
its first discoverer in Kant. Such a treatment of consciousness is
justly called Idealism, and all philosophy must, therefore, accord-
ing to us, be Idealism from the first start and in its beginning. It
might become something else by an exposition of the ground of
consciousness. But this question is not raised until we have com-
pleted the list of facts, and meanwhile we explain the phenomenon
out of itself, so long as we can do it at all.

Facta of Consciousness. 137

2. We see here, clearly, the distinction of our system from that
which assumes sensuous things existing in themselves and makes
them the basis of consciousness — a system which we will not
call by the ambiguous name dogmatism, but plainly materialism,
to which name it can raise no objection if it is logical. This
system says: In all hitherto established objective views of the
world, the sensuous world represents itself; but our system says:
It is the life of consciousness which represents itself in them. We
agree, however, in this, that it represents itself in the same form
of an altogether determined and necessary thinking. The differ-
ence between both expressions is apparent ; the only question is,
What is the real point of the dispute ? It is this : Materialism
posits the things as the ground of the life of consciousness. Xow,
this we contradict. At least, in the described consciousness it is
life that represents, and life represents itself in it. Another and
higher question is: Does it not also represent a something else,
outside of itself, while it thus represents itself and in its self-
representation ? It is possible, and it will turn out to be so. This
is the inquiry after the ground. But materialism makes use of
this proposition from the very start, without any necessity, and in
an altogether unsatisfactory manner. According to materialism,
consciousness represents the sensuous world in itself. The mate-
rialist says : Things exist. This we also say, and say it as
emphatically as he may desire. But he also says : Hence, the
things are at the same time the ground of our representations of
them. Here we perceive a whole tissue of fictions. Of course,
they exist ; but how do you know that they are at the same time
such ground ? You furthermore assert that we have only repre-
sentations of them, which is in direct contradiction to an accurate
observation of self-consciousness. Finally, you connect these two
fictions by a relation, which is also purely fictitious, in making
one of them the ground of the other — a fiction which is, moreover,
completely unintelligible, for you have never yet uttered, nor will
you ever be able to utter, a sensible word concerning the manner
in which a thing can change into an image essentially different
from the thing, and in another power separated from the thing
and also essentially diflerent.

3. We also remark the difference between our system and every
kind of speculative Individualism, but especially idealistic Indi-

138 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

vidualism. Every philosophical system intends to explain con-
sciousness; which is perfectly right. But all previous philosophi-
cal systems, without exception, rose no higher in this undertaking
than to explain the consciousness of a single individual subject,
which naturally meant the individual subject just then philoso-
phizing. The consciousness that was to be explained has never
been thought as the consciousness of one life, embracing and can-
celling all individuality. The Science of Knowledge is the iirst
system that has done this, and has done it in such a manner that
no one has observed it, but imagined that Science to be also an
individualism. One good result, however, was the consequence :
people began to perceive that it ought not to be thus.

It is true that the materialist, by silently presupposing a num-
ber of Egos — for otherwise he cannot arrive at them — can explain
the harmony in their representations of the sensuous world by
basing himself on the thing in itself and the impressions which it
makes in accordance with its being. But — apart from his in-
ability to explain himself as a representing being — he can never
explain the representation — his own, for instance — of other rational
creatures outside of himself. For I should like to know what sort
of an impression of a sensuous object that would be by means of
which the image of an altogether supersensuous Ego would arise,
and what sort of an activity that would be through which the
image of an inactive and altogether in itself locked-up and sepa-
rated principle would be produced.

Idealistic individualism, indeed, loses its deduction at the very
first point. Space is the form of my contemplation ; hence, what-
ever is in space will easily follow as being also my contemplation.
But who, then, is this Ego ? I do not desire the answer, which
you would like to give me, impelled thereto by a dim feeling, but
I want the answer, which you must give me logically. How do
you know, then, that space is the form of contemplation ? Surely,
only through immediate inner self-contemplation, which is indi-
vidual. Now, unless you have higher principles in your Specula-
tion, this self-contemplation can have validity only for itself, for
the individual. Space is form of your individual contemplation ;
this is what your self-contemplation states. But how are you now
going to draw the consequence, in violation of all rules of reason-
ing, that space is also the form of contemplation of other indi-

Facts of Consciousness. 189

viduals (if you, indeed, are able to posit them), since you ought
rather to conclude the opposite ?

Remark. — Kant, it is true, answers the problem just proposed
in a different manner. He sajs : For us men., space is the form of
contemplation. But let us ask, first, what is the word men to
signify here, and what can it signify at all? If it signifies the
opposite to irrationality, then it is equivalent to rational beings,
and the expression ought always to have been so understood.
But if it is intended to signify more, then an opposition between
rational beings themselves ought to have been indicated ; a clasei-
fication in their general sphere between rational and irrational men.
In which case I ask : So far as thinking is concerned, can you
think other rational beings than those that are contained in the
general form of reason of the Ego ? The question is not merely
whether you can think otherwise, but whether such another think-
ing would not be an absolute contradiction, and whether that
form of reason is not the only possible one. Hence, on the field
of thinking, no such opposition is possible. Or do you, perhaps,
behold such other rational beings, in which case the opposition
would be transferred to the sphere of contemplation ? You will
not be able to prove such contemplation, however much you may
imagine other bodily forms of rational beings. But, on the field
of contemplation, you are limited to the reality of contemplation,
and your imaginations are phantasms which you would do wisely
to avoid. I should like to know whether Kant would seriously
state that any kind of rational beings might not have the contem-
plation of space, but something else in its place.

Kant, therefore, ought to have said, and intended to say, that
Space is the form of contemplation for all rational beings. But
where is there any trace of a proof of this in his system ? He has
not demonstrated that the evidence, which, in point of fact, ema-
nates evidently from his own individuality, has universal vah'dity
for all subjects, although, in point of fact, he applies it, and doea
not even mention that he does so. But does he not speak of the
validity of the categorical imperative for all men ? True, but not
otherwise than he has spoken already in the Introduction to the
" Critic of Pure Reason" of Extension as the form of coutemi)lu-
tion for us men. If it were his speculative system which spoke
thus, he would have to show up this categorical imperative as the

140 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

determining ground of some particular consciousness (as we have
pointed out, the power of life as the determining ground of the In-
ternal of nature), and, moreover, of that consciousness through
which many and all are posited. He would have to show up the
many and the all as the form of contemplation of a categorical
imperative, precisely as we have represented the sensuous world
as the form of contemplation of the development of the living
power, and as will probably, indeed, appear to be the fact. Hence,
he lias neither deduced that consciousness of the unity of life in
the many — though we have, also, not done this as yet — nor has he
expressly stated it to be a fact of consciousness — which we have
done in the preceding — but he has simply presupposed it, quietly,
driven thereto by common sense. Hence, if the tendency of his
mind, his common sense, was not individualistic, his system was
at any rate ; but then common sense, from time to time, corrected
his system.

4. This insight into the self-representation of the unity is also
the only means by which to explain the validity of everything
a priori for every rational subject, as well as the claim of each
such being to this validity. The universal validity for the whole
sphere of objects, of which we have spoken just now, and which
must carefully be distinguished from the former, has already been
explained. If I see that the object is produced through me, as the
principle, and that I am limited by my faculty to produce it only
in this particular manner, then I comprehend clearly that the
object cannot be produced by me differently in all eternity, and
that, hence, it also cannot be differently for me. The question is
now, what this principle is. For if it is my Ego as individual,
then that objective validity holds good only for me the individual,
and we cannot understand how any one else can be presumed to
acknowledge it. But if that principle is absolutely the one and
universal life of reason, and if it is immediately posited as such
unmistakable, then it becomes evident that the universal validity
must hold good for this life of reason, and for every one in whom
it manifests itself, and that each one who comprehends this is
entitled to presume that every one else will admit it.

Remarh. — But, in order that such a universally valid somewhat
should be actually valid for a given individual, it is necessary,
firstly, that the individual should give attention. This attention

On the Nature of Property and its Devolution. 141

is an act by wliicli the individual makes itself the One Life, with
abstraction from its own inner imaging and contemplating.

Now, since that universally valid somewhat is valid for the
One Life, it is evident that every individual for whom it is to be
valid must make himself that One Life. But this attention pre-
supposes, secondly, that it should be possible in the way required
by the character of that valid somewhat. For instance, to see a
visible somewhat we must look — that is, attend ; but this can be
required only from those who have eyes. It is the same with the
inner insight. For although we cannot presuppose absolute blind-
ness on this field, the faculty of thinking, after all, develops itself
only gradually and by exercise to its higher degrees, and thus it
may well happen that a universally valid truthinay not be valid
for somebody, in spite of all his attempted attention and good-
will to comprehend it, simply because his faculty of thinking has
not yet been developed in the region wherein that truth lies.

ON THE NATURE OF PROPERTY AND ITS

DEVOLUTION.'

BY J. G. WOERNER.

Analysis.— I. Of the nature of property ; its acquisition, use,
and alienation. §§ 1-3.

IL Devolution of property on the death of its owner ; rights
of the family. §§ 4r-8.

III. Administration ; officers and courts having charge of the

same. §§ 9-11.

§ 1. The Acquisition of Property.''
My property is that which is mine. That only is mine which
I acquire, hold, and dispose of by my will. It is my toill which de-

1 [This article forms the introductory chapter to a forthcoming work on Probate Law,

by Judge Woerner. — Ed.] . a > i

« The definition of property has been attempted upon various theories. An able
writer, Mr. U. M. Rose, has publUhed, in the "Southern Law Review" (vol. », N. b.,

142 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

termines the acquisition of a thing by me, wliether originally, by
reducing to possession, and thus making my property that which

p. 1 et seq.), a series of articles, entitled " Controversies of Modern Continental Jurists,"
in which he comments upon the most celebrated theories concerning the derivation of
rights, and dwells with approbation upon Kant's System, which he styles the Possi-
bility of Coexistence (as to Kant's definition of property, see his Rechtslehre, pub-
lished in the Philosophische Bibliolhek, voL xxix, Berlin, 1870), and Rosmini's theory,
from whose work {Delia Natura del Diritto, Naples, 1837) he quotes to some extent,
and, accepting him as a guide to Kant's profound study, condenses his theory as fol-
lows : " The sum of the property of a person may be regarded as a sphere, of which
that person is the centre. Within this sphere the action of a person is free and inde-
pendent, and is protected by the moral law against all aggression or restrictions. The
person has the moral right to oppose force against any attempt to intrude into this
sphere, or to usurp any part of it. The spheres of difierent personalities exclude each
•other reciprocally, and serve as mutual limitations to each other. For whatever
remains outside of these spheres, each person preserves a complete liberty of action,
and no one has a right to arrest its action and expansion within this free and unoccu-
pied space ; and in this free space there is a large room for rivalry and competition.
Every one has the right of pursuit, but no one can have a right to any object until he
has apprehended it, and has annexed it, as it were, to his person, in the manner already
stated. A transfer or conveyance of property is an abandonment of it in favor
of another determinate person, or a number of such. If the person to whom the
transfer is made neglects or refuses to accept the property, it does not fall to the
first occupant, as it would do if the abandonment were general ; because the owner,
having a right of complete disposal of it, may dispose of it conditionally if he sees fit ;
and in such case, on a failure of the condition of acceptance on which the right should
be transmitted to another, the property will revert to him who had conditionally aban-
doned it. A contract which produces an obligation is only an abandonment in favor
of another of a portion of one's personal activities. A man may barter his personal
services, his skill, his future ability to control and dispose of a sum of money, and the
manner of its disposal, just as he may sell and deliver — that is, abandon to another — a
chattel, the only diSierence being that in the former case his obligation is active, while
in the latter it is, or may be, only passive, the duty in the one case relating to acta,
and in the other to forbearances. Rights may also be transmitted by general abandon-
ment. Where property is unconditionally abandoned, it devolves on the first taker or
occupant, who apprehends it physically, intending to make it his own, doing thereby
no undeserved injury to any human being. Abandonment of whatever kind extin-
guishes, either conditionally or absolutely, the right of the owner or proprietor to the
subject of the right, by causing the intellectual bond which binds it to him to disap-
pear. Words are merely one class of symbols from which the intentions of men are
inferred. In large cities people are to be found who earn a livelihood by collecting
articles of small value, which are thrown in the streets. In such cases the abandon-
ment is implied and not expressed, '^n the same way come titles by prescription or
limitation. From long non-user an abandonment of a right is presumed ; the intel-
lectual bond is supposed to have been withdrawn ; and therefore the right passes to
>the first taker. In the case of a contract importing an obligation, the abandonment

On the Nature of Property and its Devolution. 143

was no one's property before ; or by contract, by which a thing
becomes mine through the concurrence of my will with that of its
former owner. Since I cannot rightfully acquire the property of
another without his consent— that is, without his free will— it is
obvious that the will of the original owner is a necessary element
in my ownership, and in the ownership of any one who may law-
fully acquire it after me, and remains operative until the property
has lost its character as such by voluntary abandoimient. By my
own free will I may abandon my property, whereupon it ceases
to be such, and relapses into the condition of res nullius — subject
to become,' property by the sole will of any person who acquires it.

§ 2. Tenure and Use of Property lost hy Non-User.

I hold or use a thing which is mine, at will. Matter is unfree —
i. «., it has no will, it does not belong to itself. Neither right nor
duty can be predicated of a mere thing; its quality is to offer
resistance; it is, therefore, negative to my will: my will, in real-
izing itself, overcomes this resistance and subjects the thing to its
purposes — changing its form, destroying, consuming it. That
which is mine is thus a part of my personality, of me, in so far as
its end and purpose of existence is the satisfaction, the realization
of my will, and to serve it for its purposes as my bodily limbs serve
me. "Will, then, is the essence of property ; without it there is
none. Hence, that from which I have withdrawn ray will, which
I have abandoned, ceases to be my property, and becomes, as we
have seen, res nullius, the appropriation of which by another is
no violation of my right, because it is no collision with my will.
K, then, I wish to preserve my property, or, which is the same in
effect, ray right to it, I must indicate, in some way perceptible to

necessarily inures to the benefit of the person on whom the obligation rested, and
therefore amounts to a voluntary discharge of the obligation." — Southern L. R., vol. i,
N. S., p. \1 et seq.

The reader will notice how near these views approach those given in the text, which
follow the exposition of Hegel in his Philosophic dcs Bechts, §§ 40-70. No trans-
lation into the English tongue of this truly exhaustive and masterly treatise on the law
has, as yet, it is beUeved, appeared ; but in The Journal of Speculative Philosophy
(vol iv, p. 155) was published the " Outlines of the Science of Rights, Morals, and
Religion," which is a translation cf Hcgers Philo.iophisehe Propaedculik; cnriclied by
explanatory notes elucidating Hegel's terminology and abstruse reasoning, and which
contains a full synopsis of his greater work.

144 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

others, that it is still subject to ray will ; otherwise I may be un-
derstood as having abandoned it. To avoid collisions arising out
of a misinterpretation of my relation to a thing, a definite period
is fixed by custom or law, within which my will is presumed to
attach to it ; if I permit this period to expire without using the
thing, or indicating in some tangible way that it continues to be
mine (keeping it in possession, laying it up, or in some way exer-
cising ownership over it), its abandonment is presumed and my
right to it is lost hy prescription, my ownership barred by limita-
tion.

§ 3. Aliendbility of Property.

In like manner I may relinquish my property to another, either
by freely giving it, or exchanging it for other property. We have
already seen that property acquired from another can become
such only by the will of the former owner. My donee as well as
my vendee holds the property given or sold by the concurrence of
my will with his own ; it must be my will that the donee shall
take, and his that he will receive, the thing which he acquires
from me by gift ; and my will to relinquish and that the vendee
shall hold the property I sell or barter, and his to relinquish and
that I shall hold the property I get in exchange therefor. Prop-
erty so relinquished does not cease to be property when it ceases
to be mine, lor it is my will that my donee or vendee shall hold
it. The alienation of property constitutes one of the forms in
which I use it, in which it serves my purposes, and in which I
realize my will. This phase or quality of property constitutes the
sphere of contract. Alienability is of the essence of property ; an
infringement of my right or power to alienate my property is
therefore a limitation upon my free will, and to that extent a vio-
lation of my personal liberty, because my free will finds realiza-
tion in property. The infraction of my personal freedom is pre-
cisely the same if a limitation is put upon my power to alienate
property as if I were prevented from acquiring, or from holding
or using it. The limitation would in either case deprive me of
my power to contract, and thus destroy my liberty.'

* Intellectual or manual skill, sciences, arts, even religious functions (sermons, masses,
prayers, etc.), as well as services to be rendered for another at or for a given period, are
all included in the sphere of contract. It might appear, on a superficial view, that such

On the Nature of Property a/nd its Devolution. 145
§ 4. Will of Owner operative in Property after his Death.

Property, then, is the realization of the free will of a person,
the external sphere of his freedom. As such, it partakes of, and
is clothed with, the dignity and inviolability of the psreon. The
thinpjs which constitute property can have no rights, for they have
no will ; and will alone, or the person in which it has its abode and
vehicle, can be the subject of right aiid of its correlative, duty.
The law recognizes and deals with property only in so far as it
recognizes and deals with the will of the owner, realized or exter-
nalized therein. For the sphere of the law is the Spiritual ; it
operates upon and through the will alone." Thus the law recoo--
nizes in the property of a deceased person his free will ; that is,
his rational will, and enforces it. The faihire of such recognition
would destroy the property, which can be such only throngji the
will of its owner. If this has been adequately expressed, the dis-
position of the property is enforced accordingly; if not, the law
itself supplies the omission by imparting to the property the uni-
versal will, which is the free will of rational persons.

§ 5. Free and Capricious Will. Caprice ignored hy the Law.

The distinction between truly free or rational will and ca-
price, unfree or irrational will, lies in the content which the will
gives itself, or the object which it pursuco. Universal will (as
distinguished from personal, individual, or subjective will) is the

skill, or functions, or services cannot be classed as tJdngs, and do not, therefore, con-
stitute property, being themselves emanations of free will, and qualities or attributes of
the mind. But it is within the province of my mind or will to externalize a limited share
of my activity, to give to another an interest in it, and thus to reduce it to the condition
of an external thing, which I may alienate for his use — not the whole of my labor, skill,
or services — the totality of my activity or productions — for that would be to alivnate my
own personality, to destroy my free will, which are inalit lablc. The servant or l.i borer
for hire realizes his will by exchanging his services or productions for his wajres, and
thus enters into a lawful contract ; but the slave gives up or is deprived of his free will,
to the destruction of his pei-sonality, which can neither be relinquished nor ac(iuired as
property by another.— Hkgel, Fhil d. if., §^ 43, 66, 6Y, and culdanla.

' The will is free; freedom is its substance and essential quality in like manner as
the substance and essential quality of matter is gravity. Gravity is not an accidental
predicate of matter, but matter itself; so with freedom and will: freedom is will. Will
without freedom is a word void of meaning ; freedom exists only aa will.— Ukou-'b
Philosophic des Rechts, § 4, and addendum.

xvn— 10

146 The Journal of Speculative Philosojphy.

will as embodied in the law, in morality, ethics, religion. "With-
out universal will there could be no laws, nor anything obligatory
upon us all. Each one would act according to his own caprice or
pleasure, without respecting the caprice or pleasure of others. In
so far, then, as the will of the individual has for its content or
object the universal will, it is rational and free.' Caprice, arbi-
trary or limited will, has for its object or content the gratification
of some impulse or appetite, which may or may not be rational,
i. e., in consonance with the universal or absolute will.* It follows
that the law can recognize and enforce only true or rational will,
and must ignore and cancel that which is capricious and arbi-
trary.

§ 6. Property in Relation to the Family.

The ethical relation between the sexes demands their union in
matrimony, from which the family results as a spontaneous natu-
ral (social union) society, whose members are united by the bonds
of mutual affection, implicit trust, and voluntary obedience {pie-
tas). The family is an organic totality, whose constituent ele-
ments have their true existence not in their individuality, but in
their relation to each other through the totality, lacking indepen-
dence when separated from it ; they have no separate interests to
seek, but only one common interest for the whole. Hence, there
dwells in the family but one will — namely, that of the head of the
family, who represents it in its legal relations to others.^ In

' " The absolute will has only itself for object, while the relative will has something
limited." — Hegel, Propaedeutic^ § 20 ; Jour. Sp. Ph., vol. iv, p. 57. See also Hegel,
Encyclopaedie, §§ 483-486.

" Caprice (arbitrariness) is formal, but not true freedom. Since I may elect to de-
termine, or not to determine, this or that, I possess what is ordinarily called freedom.
My choice consists in the faculty of the will to make this or the other thing mine. Be-
ing a particular content, this thing is not adequate to me — I am not identical with it ; I
am simply the potentiality to make it mine. Hence, the choice lies in the indetermi-
nateness of the Ego and the determinateness of the content; being determined (limited)
by this content, the will is not free — i. e., has not itself (universal will) for its content.
Whether the content (object) of the capricious will be rational (conforming to the uni-
versal will) or not, depends upon accident : my dependence upon the content constitutes
the inconsistency of caprice. Men usually believe themselves free when allowed to
act arbitrarily, but true freedom has no contingent content ; it alone is not contingent.
— Hegel, PJdl. d. R, § 15 ; Jour. Sp. Ph., iv., pp. 56-58.

s Jour. Sp. Ph., p. 167, § 23.

On the Nature of Property and its Devolution. J 47

j-ecognizing the trne nature and validity of the family, the law
accords to it and secures it in the enioynieut of the necessary
means to its existence — property; and this in a higher sense and
in a more efficient degree than it secures the property of indi-
viduals. The existence of the family as an aggregate person re-
quires a permanent estate, adequate not only to the capricious
purposes and desires of an individual, but to the common collec-
tive wants of all its members.' In this estate or property no one
member of the family has an exclusive interest or right of posses-
sion, but each his undivided interest in the common fund.'
Nevertheless, the property is usually held by the head of the
family, and in his name. It devolves chiefly upon him to pro-
vide for it the means of subsistence and of satisfying their various
wants. He controls, manages, and disposes of the property or
estate, limited in his absolute dominion over it, aside from his
moral obligations, only by the affirmative provisions of the law.
Upon the dissolution of the family, through the development of
its ethical purpose — i. e., upon the attainment of majority of the
children — who then separate from it as persons sui Juris, capable
of holding property of their own and becoming founders of new
families, their interest in the familv estate is modified accord-
ingly ; the authority of the father, as well as his liability to sup-
port such children, is no longer recognized in law, but becomes
of ethical or moral force only.'

§ 7. Testamentary Disposition of Property.
From the nature of property, in its relation to the individual as
well as to the family, springs the principle of its devolution upon
the death of the owner. The power to dispose of property by last
ivill or testament results strictly from its essential quality of alien-
ability by the owner,* and is, like gifts or contracts inter vivos,
limited only by the policy of the law.' The restraint placed upon

> Hence the provisions in the statutes of the severa. States securing to the widow
■and orphans of a deceased person the homestead, year's support, etc., as aguinst credit-
ors ; the homestead acts, liability of a father for the support and education of his
minor children, the wife's right to dower, etc.

« Hegel, Phil. d. R., %% 168, 170; Encycl, § 520.

3 Hegel, Phil. d. P., § 177. * See ante, % 3.

s But, from the stand-point of ethics and morality, the unlimited tcatatory power is
not justifiable. If the testator die after his children have reached majority, there may

148 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

a testator is no greater than that which exists in cases of aliena-
tion of property inter vivos i the wife's dower, the provisions,,
clothing, year's support, household furniture, etc., of which a testa-
tor cannot deprive his family, are similarly protected against
creditors, and, in many cases, against improvident alienation by
the living head of the family. A fruitful source of litigation is
found in the capricious and arbitrary dispositions often made in
wills to the grievance and unjust deprivation of heirs-at-law ; and
the readiness with which juries seize upon slight pretexts, ilimsy
proof of' undue influence," etc., to set aside such unjust wills, is
indicative of a deep-seated ethical aversion to the power of arbi-
trarily diverting the natural channel of the devolution of property..

§ 8. Course of Descent at Law.

Upon the natural dissolution of the family by the death of tho
parents, or more particularly of the husband or father, the prop-
erty of the family descends to the heirs. It is quite apparent that,
in the case of ^a family in the most restricted, natural sense (con-
sisting of parents and childrtin), there is in this process no sub-
stantial, but only a formal change of ownership : the property

be some ground for voluntary discrimination between his natural heirs. Unless, how-
ever, this is resorted to in a very limited measure, and for valid reasons, it will be in
violation of the logical and ethical basis of the family. Nor can the testatory power be
deduced from the arbitrary will of the testator against the substantial rights of the
family unless the kinship be remote. The arbitrary power of the father to disinherit
his children is one of the immoral provisions of the Roman laws, according to which he
might also kill or sell his son ; and the wife (even if not in the relation of a slave to
her husband, in manum comeniret, in mancipio csset, but as a matron) was a member,
not of the family of which she was the mother, but of that of which she was a descend-
ant, inheriting from the latter, and the latter inheriting from her. — Hegel, Fhil. d. R.y
§§ 179, 180.

The power of testamentary disposition of property is nowhere so unlimited as under
the modern statutes of England and the American States. The common law of Eng-
land, at least the custom in particular places, did not allow a man to dispose of the
whole of bis personal estate by will unless he died without either wife or issue, but re-
quired him to leave one third to his wife and one third to his children, if he lelt both
wife and children ; or one half to his wife or children, if he left either (see 1 Perk.
Williams on Exec, 1 et scq.). Under the codes of most of the continental countries of
Europe the riglit to disinherit one's own children is allowed only for certain causes
pointed out by the law, which are required to be recited in the instrument, the truth
of which may be traversed and the will_6et aside if not sustained at the trial.

On the Nature of Property and its Devolution. 149

held by them in common, or by the head of the family for them,'
now passes to them directly. In the absence of a testamentary
division, the property vests by the law of descent, paseinj^ from
the husband and father to the wife and children, that being the
natural, substantial, and rational course; such, in the absence of
a contrary disposition, is the rational, substantial will of the
•deceased to which the law gives eifect. In default of wife and
children, the parents, brothers, and sisters, or other more distant
relatives, constitute the heirs; the family bond is looser as the
kinship is more remote and the relatives belong to other families
of their own. In the same ratio in which the reason demandintr
the heirship between members of the same family loses force with
the remoteness of kinship, the propriety and justice of testament-
■ ary disposition of property becomes more apparent.' The disposi-
tion of property in anticipation of death {donatio causa mortis) is
properly subsumable under the law of contracts.

-§ 9. The Law supplies the Will Element in the Property of

Deceased Persons.

It is self-evident that the claims of creditors of a deceased per-
son constitute a title to the property left by him superior to that
of heirs, whether testamentary or at law. A debt constitutes
property of the creditor remaining in the possession of the debtor,
which, by the concurrent will of both, is, at some period subse-
•quent to the creation of the debt (arising out of an express or im-
plied contract), to pass into the possession of the creditor. The
debtor, then, has only a qualified property in the thing (usually
the price for goods sold or services rendered) which constitutes

' See anle, § 6.

* The institution of primogeniture is deducible from tlie political necessity of the
State, which seeks to increase its stability by creating a -lass of persons independent

: alike of the favor of the government and of the public at large, and protected even
against their own imprudence and caprice by the entail of their estates, relieving them
from the distracting cares of obtaining the means of support and the vicissitudes of
fortune, thus enabling them to devote their undivided energies to the service of the

: State. Primogeniture and entail are violative of the true principle of property, destroy-
ing both its alienability and natural course of descent ; hence, they are utterly inde-
fensible and immoral where no political necessity exists for them (Hegel, Phil. d. R.,

-^% 306, 180). In America they are generally inhibited by the constitutions or
statutes of the several States.

150 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

the debt — namely, the right of possession for a period of time
which may be definite, or depend upon the forbearance of the
creditor. The substantial property — the right to the thing — with
a present or future right to the possession also, is already in the
creditor; for this reason it cannot go to the debtor's heirs, or it
goes to them to the extent only in which he had an interest there-
in. To secure the rights of creditors in the estates of deceased
persons against the heirs as well as against strangers, and to secure
justice to and between the heirs themselves — in other words, to
enforce the rational will of the decedent, which can be no other
than that upon his death his property shall pass to his creditors
and testamentary or legal heirs — the law itself performs the office
of the deceased owner, substituting for, or supplying as, his will
its own universal will.'

From this theory, it is apparent that the true reason of the law
of descent, of the recognition of the validity of testaments, and of
the authority assumed by the law over the estates of deceased per-
sons, is to be found in tlie necessity of restoring the essential
quality of property which has lost the will-element by the death
of the owner. Some text-writers look upon the property left by
deceased persons as res nullius, which might be seized and appro-
priated by the first comer or bystander, and hold that the laws of
descent and of distribution are simply wise and necessary precau-
tionary measures to prevent strife and violence at the death-bed.
That such is the efiect of these laws is evident enough, as also

^ " The character of this estate, together with the variety of individuals who may be
interested in it, as creditors, legatees, or distributees, seems to demand that it also
should be vested by law in some common agent, who shall preserve it from waste and
dispose of it to those entitled to receive it, according to the provisions of that la;w
which has undertaken to provide for the discharge of the duties omitted by the intes-
tate. The creation of this agent the law wisely leaves to the discretion of the ancestor^
if he chooses to exercise it; he may make his own will instead of leaving it to the law
to make one for him, and he may appoint his own agent or executor instead of confid-
ing this duty to the probate court under the authority of the law. If the ancestor, by
will, appoint his own agent or executor, he thereby becomes vested with the title to
the property in a fiduciary charactci-. But, if, either designedly or otherwise, the an-
cestor die without executing his power of testamentary disposition, the law, as in case
of real estate, assumes itself the duty of appointment, and vests this title and author-
ity over the personal estate in a common agent for the parties in interest, who is culled
an administrator." — Harris, J., delivering the dissenting opinion in Evans vs. Fisher,,
40 Miss., 643, 679 et seq., citing from 1 TncK. Lect., pt. 2, pp. 397, 398.

On the Nature of Property and its Devolution. 151

their wisdom and validity; but to place the reason of their enact-
ment on this ground is to ignore the true nature of the family as
well as the trne nature of property."

§10. Administration; Functions of Executors and Admhds-

trators.

The purpose of the law in this respect is accomjilished in a
simple and efficient manner by its officers or ministers, vested with
powers and duties commensurate .with the exigencies requiring
their intervention. The sum of their activity is called admlnis-
tration, which, in its narrowest legal sense, is the collection,
management, and distribution, under legal authority, of the estate
ot an intestate by an officer known && administrator ; or of the
estate of a testator having no competent execn.tor, by an adminis-
trator with the will annexed. The person charged with the man-
agement and disposition of the estate of a testator is an executor,
and his office is called executorship., because he executes the testa-
tor's will, but his official acts are also called administration.''
The functions of these officers are in many respects similar to those
of trustees as known in chancery. Text-writers iind it convenient
to subsume them under the same class when discussing the powers,
rights, duties, and liabilities of trustees. But there is an obvious
and essential distinction between administrators and ordinary
trustees: while the latter derive their powers from the voluntary
creators of the trust, the authority of the former tluws directly
from the law itself. Their functions constitute an essential ele-
ment of the law, and are exercised M'ith entire independence of
the personal views, desires, and intentions of the parties concerneil.
They are in the full sense officers of the law and of courts organ-
ized and having jurisdiction for the especial purpose of aiding and

' Hegel, Phil. d. R., § 178.

' The term adminislraiion, in its primary signification and general sense equivalent to
conduct, manaffement, distribution, etc. (Webster), is also applicable to the management
of the estates of minors, persons of unsound mind, drunkards, spendthrifts, etc., by
officers known as guardians, curators, tutors, committees, etc. Persons who are incom-
petent to manage their affairs have not free will, without which, as previously set forih
in the text, there can be no property ; hence, as in the case of deceased persond, the
law vindicates its character as such by supplying it with the content of ita own unirer-
sal will, through the intervention'of guardians, etc.

162 The Journal of Speculative Philosopky.

controlling them. They are clothed with authority to act in all
matters connected with the disposition of the decedent's estate
precisely as he himself would rationally have done, and it is the
office of these courts to compel such action and to cancel all capri-
cious, wilful acts inconsistent with justice and the legal rights of
creditors and distributees.

§ 11. Elements and Nature of Probate Courts.

The organization of courts having exclusive jurisdiction over
matters pertaining to the administration of the estates of deceased
persons and of minors, and persons incapable of managing their
affairs, has undoubtedly proved exceedingly useful and convenient
to the public. But while to this circumstance may be ascribed
their historical development and the modern growth and increased
extent of their jurisdiction, yet the true distinction between thera
and the courts of ordinary plenary jurisdiction is not found in
their usefulness or convenience, but is based upon the more pro-
found principle underlying their origin, the logical diremption ot
the functions peculiar to the two classes of courts, which a briet
examination of these functions will readily disclose.

The division of the powers of government into their constituent
elements results, in all modern free states, in the three co-ordinate
departments, confided to separate magistracies, known as the legis-
lative, judicial, and executive. It is sulficient for the present pur-
pose to bear in mind that it is the office of the judiciary to
interpret and apply the law established by the legislative branch
to cases arising out of collision, whether actual or imaginary, with
the law, leaving it to the executive branch to carry out the judg-
ments of the courts. Thus the judge is seen to act as the organ or
mouth-piece of the law, announcing, in each case brought to his
oflScial knowledge, whether the alleged collision between the will
of an individual, as objectified in an outward act (for will which
is undetermined, not become external by accomplishment of its
purpose, is beyond the realm of the law, which deals only with
the actual '), is real or imaginary. In the exercise of this function,
the judge, with a directness peculiar to this branch of sovereign
power, accomplishes the great office and end of the state and of

' Hegel, Phil. d. /?.,§§ 113, 13.

On the Nature of Property and its Devolution. 153

all government, the accomplishment of justice, the realization of
will ; securing to the rational will of the individual its legitimate
fruition, and holding the irrational, capricious, or negative will
to its own logical result (reparation and punishment for wrong and
crime).

But we have seen that all property subject to administration is
deficient in that element which alone can be the basis of a colli-
sion between the individual will and the law ; it is the province
of the court having jurisdiction over executors and administrators
to supply the individual will lacking in property, to fill the
vacuum created by the death of the owner with the content of the
universal will — that is, to secure the disposition of property under
administration as the owner, acting rationally, would have dis-
posed of it if living. The functions involved in this office' have a
ministerial element superadded to their judicial quality, which, if
they occurred in ordinary courts of law or equity, would require
the intervention of adjuncts — commissioners, auditors, referees,
etc. — involving, aside from the question of inconvenience, delay,
and cost, an incongruity in the duties of the office.'

Such being the logical basis and scope of courts having control
of executors and administrators, their historical development in
England, but more particularly in the United States, has been a
gradual but steady separation from the common law and chancery
courts, and has resulted in a practical recognition of probate juris-
diction as a distinct and independent branch of the law, destined
to achieve for itself a sphere sid generis^ based upon and deter-
mined by its own inherent principles.

' Such as the appointment of administrators, granting probate of wills in non-con-
tentious cases, qualifying executors, fixing the amount and passing upon the sufficicncT
of bonds and sureties, receiving inventories, settlements, reports, etc., fixing the diri-
^ends to be paid to creditors, etc.

' Jurisdiction of Probate Courts : South. L. R., vol. iii, pp. 264-267.

154 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

THE IMMORTALITY OF THE SOUL.

TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF CARL FRIEDRICH GOESCHEL BY SUSAN E. BLOW.

Chapter II.'

Personality., or the Immanent Development of the Soul and its

lonmortality .

As the crowning result of the labor of all previous periods,
philosophy has at last discovered its true method, and therein
attained the one form adequate to its content. It is true that the
critical philosopliy arraigned the dogmatic procedure, and exposed
its inadequacy, yet this same critical philosophy fell into the
dogmatism it denounced, and the doofmatic method of demonstra-
tion (in part under the altered name of construction) prevailed
until philosophy attained insight into the genetic development of
the idea. Even now the speculative method is grossly misunder-
stood ; it is still to many an insoluble enigma that the content
should be developed from the concept — " from the concept " mean-
ing to them just as much as^ and not one whit more than, the old
a priori. In the worst case of all, however, are those who, under-
standing the open secret quite as little as others, yet insist upon
their own comprehension. The philosophy which has not only
recognized the inadequacy of a method based upon the dualism
between Being and Thought, but has also substituted for it the
progressive development of the concept or notion growing out of
and moving towards the identit}^ of subject and object, is, by
such as these, harangued and tutored, and condescendingly urged
to consider the wonderful fact that a formal or subjective logic is
not adequate to objective reality and true conviction, and that
this subjective logic must, therefore, be supplemented by objec-
tive experience. Thereupon this experience is interpolated ex-
tempore instead of being included as method in the identity of
Being and Thought, and developed and mediated in the develop-
ment of the concept or notion. The object is not something

' [The introduction and first chapter of this work were translated by Mr. T. R. Vick-
roy, and published in volume xi (pages 66, 177, 372) of this journal. — En.]

The Immortality of the Soul. 155

diflPerent from its concept or notion, but one with it ; hence, the
object develops in and throui^h itself, and through tiiis devel-
opment comes to its experience. Methodically i)ursuin<r and
following the object, we experience it in ourselves. II. )w this
may be more detinitelj understood— how the self-developing, pro-
gressive movement from the concept identical with its object, or
from the object identical with its concept, whicli the subject looks
upon and follows, reveals itself as the most vital experience — we
shall learn in the progress of the t^sk which we have set our^elves,
and we shall also see clearly how this movement differs in the
sharpest manner from the dogmatic method of proof of which
dualism is the root, and which (whether interposed a priori or a
posteriori), being transcendental, is necessarily external.

Critical philosophy reproached dogmatism for ])resupposing
without proof the agreement of thought and its object, and this
reproach was deserved. It then sought to show that this agree-
ment could not be proved ; the attempt was, however, an utter
failure, and the proposition that the unity of Thought and Being
could not be demonstrated proved to be itself undemonstrable.
It is most remarkable that this critical philosophy, while challeng-
ing and censuring the presupposition of the as yet unproved iden-
tity of Being and Thought, itself presupposes, without demonstra-
ting, the duality of subject and object. With the recognition of
this defect, progressive philosophy learns to presuppose nothing,
neither to assume anything nor to accept anything as already
settled, but to investigate and discover how everything given
immediately develops and mediates itself. In this manner we see
Being develop itself logically out of Nothing, through Becoming,
to the Notion or Comprehension and the Absolute Idea, and
then conversely find these several steps, moments, or categoriea
outside of and beside each other in whatever is immediately
given. This done, we are at home everywhere in general, for we
have learned to complete the circle from any given point of its
circumference. It may be objected that, in the Logic, Thought
immediately presupposes and postulates itself; we answer that
thought is immediate only in so far as it is its own mediation.
Therefore, it is the beginning which realizes and confirms itself
in its development, and in itself it both finds and surmounts
being. That thought is its own mediation is no ground for rec-

156 TJie Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

ognizing something diiferent from thought as prior to thought,
hut, on the contrary, this self-mediation forces us to recognize
thought as the true beginning from which Being develops itself
into Comprehension — herewith proving, also, that being pertains
to Comprehension.

This general course of development once mastered, any special
experience in any sphere of the real world will reveal itself as a
necessary internal development of the thought of the given object,
and with ever new astonishment we shall be confirmed in the
recognition that in whatever is immediate may be found, though
in manifold and varied forms, the same moments or categories
which revealed themselves on the plane of pure thought.

The given object in our present investigation is the human soul.
It is given as Thought, and can, therefore, still less than other given
objects, withdraw itself from tlie categories of Thought. We shall,
however, not make even this presupposition, but shall simpl}' ob-
serve how the soul develops in itself. We shall take the soul as it
is — abstracting nothing from it — imputing to it no foreign or exter-
nal element. The command laid upon Philosophy, says a great
master, is like the Saviour's command to the rich youth, who, hear-
ing it, went away sorrowful. Pure philosophy thrives only under
poverty and restraint ; like the nun, it is bound by the three mo-
nastic vows.

If, then, the soul develops according to its own essential nature,
and, in obedience to its own laws, moves forward to its immortality,
it cannot be reproached with having borrowed help from something
external whose accord with its nature must be demonstrated. The
critical consideration whether the categories, as subjective forms,
can be held valid in the object has certainly no validity in the
psychological sphere, because here the subject is unquestionably
its own object. The more rigorously, therefore, in this sphere
must the demand be insisted upon that there shall be no transition
as in a demonstration from one to the other in order to bind to-
gether in thought things which exist as separate ; but that, on the
contrary, the one shall produce in and out of itself its own deter-
minations.

The question whether the soul persists presupposes the progres-
sive development of the soul. For, if the soul does not progress
neither can it perish; it remains as it is and what it is: having

The Immortality of the Soul. 157

permanence, can it lack continuance? If, on the contrary, tl)e
soul progresses, it does not remain as it is, and, tlierefbre,'it be-
hooves us to see if it remains what it is— that is to say, whether,
under changes in its modes of manifestation, its essence remains
unchano-ed.

Evidently all turns upon the mediatorial question of how the
soul develops or progresses. In the answer to tliis, the immediate
questions of whether or not the soul progresses, and whether or
not it persists, are also answered. Just on this account we must
postpone these immediate questions which insist on fixing, in
advance, the end of an untravelled road, and confine ourselves to
the concrete question of how the soul develops and unfolds. We
shall follow the soul in its own path ; thus^ following, we shall
learn whither the path tends.

Herewith we are directed into the path of experience. As we
know the soul first under the form of its immediate existence, so
we can follow its progressive development and note the various
phases of its manifestation. There is no ground for presupposing
a difference between Being and its experience ; rather the experi-
ence develops itself out of I3eing as Being develops itself out of
thought. We might, however, move from Thought as our stait-
ing-point, in order therein to recognize the same categories. No
matter how we begin, whether we move from the accidental and
immediate — i. e., from a given object — or whether we start with
the Universal — i.e., with Thought — everywhere, in the must dis-
tinct and varied spheres, we shall find the same progressive move-
ment. The universal particularizes itself in differences which
then again mediate themselves in wmiy. The comprehension or
concept dirempts itself in itself into subject and object in order to
annul this separation in their identification. The subjective con-
cept divides itself in judgments that it may reunite with itstlt in
the syllogism. The first phase is the immediate unity and total-
ity ; the second, the self-diremption of this totaliiy into being and
essence, outward and inward ; the third is the transfiguration of
the difference into unity. Thus man, too, is first a single and
undivided essence ; but he dirempts himself into outward and in-
ward, body and soul, and this diremption occurs not only in thought
through reflection, but also in fact through death. The final phase
would be tiie transfigured unity of soul and body ; this is the res-

158 The Journal of 8j)eculative Philosojphy.

urrection in the Spirit. Upon this insight rests the trichotomy
of the JSTew Testament, which ascribes to man body, soul, and
spirit, and to the Godhead ascribes three persons.

In our present inquiry, liowever, the starting-point is not man ;
he has served us only as the example of a universal law of de-
velopment. Not man in his totality is our starting-point, but a
part of man, itself first abstracted through reflection — namely, the
soul of man — but the entire soul. Neither is resurrection our
goal, for we must seek our goal, not assume it. Nevertheless, as
resurrection is the ultimate truth and goal of the soul, it is obvi-
ous that from the beginning of our inquiry some kind of persist-
ency conformable to the essence of the soul must be presupposed.
It is obvious, also, that in the idea of resuiTection there is im-
plied, as a necessary condition, the perpetuity of the body in a
manner corresponding to its conception or notion, which is that
of externality or otherness. Thus much, therefore, may be pre-
supposed; namely, tliat the immortality of the human soul has
for its starting-point the soul itself, while the resurrection of the
body, as well as its reunion with the soul, has for its starting-point
the total man.

The human soul, then, is our initial point. Let us ask, first,
whether in the soul, considered as a totality, may be discerned
progress through the ever-recurring moments of unity, self-separa-
tion, and self-identification. As a totality, the soul, in its imme-
diacy, is homogeneous and undivided, but just from this it follows
that the soul sunders, distinguishes, separates itself from itself, in
■ order to realize its unity. As Thought, the soul, in its immediacy,
is blank, potential thought — thought without distinction and with-
out reflection. In the second stage or moment, thought distin-
guishes itself from being ; thought and being are opposed to each
other until thought becomes conscious of being. As Being, the
soul, in its immediacy, is Thought sunk in the Material, and the
Material is Being in which thought lies concealed and undeveloped.
In this immediacy, the soul has unity only because it is unconscious
and undeveloped, and, in this indifference and unconsciousness, it
contradicts its own essential nature. In the second phase, this
unconscious heing of the soul having, as individual, completed the
spheres of being, develops itself into consciousness in that Being :
since as individual it reflects itself after its self-separatioii both in

The Immortality of the Soul. 159

itself and in its other it falls into self- difference ; Consciousness is
this difference itself, for self-consciousness necessarily implies con-
sciousness of all that through self-separation is made other than
self. The third phase demands that this divided consciousness
annul its tension, therein realizing a mediated unit3' ; in so far as it
recognizes itself not only in itself, but in its other, it attains unity
with its other, and therein realizes itself as Spirit.

The progressive movement of the soul can, accordingly, he indi-
cated in three vfords — Soul, Consciousness, and Sp'irit or Indi-
vidual — Subject and Identity of the Subject with the Object.
But the question arises. What have we thereby gained ? Can we
abstract the meaning of our formulated statement ? Are we able
to show how the content of these several moments is self-unlold-
ing and self-revealing ?

Primarily, it may be mentioned that in this division the Aristo-
telian doctrine of three souls seems to be realized in its underlving
truth. The lirst is the nutritive Soul {r} dpeirrtKr) yfrvxh)-, found in
and identical with the life of the plant. The second is the life of
the animal or the sensitive Soul {rj aladriTiKr] "^v^v) 5 this sen-
sitive Soul in human life comes to consciousness through reflect-
ing itself in itself, and thus finding the internal in itself. The
third is the rational Soul {rj vorjTtKr) yfruxh), which rises out of
human consciousness, and, identifying itself with its object realizes
itself as Spirit. (Aristot., " De Anima," ii, 2, 3, 4; iii, 12, 13.)

As man develops himself in body, soul, and spirit, so the soul,
abstracted from its sensible, tangible body, passes through ])hases
of development corresponding to body, soul, and spirit. That is
to say, the soul in its first phase is an immediate totality; in its
second phase it estranges itself from itself, making itself its own
object ; in its third phase it penetrates to the identity of sub-
ject and object. Thus the soul is first its own body or its own
foundation ; it serves itself without distinguishing itself from the
body. With the act of distinguishing comes also synthesis ; this
is the soul which, distinguishing and uniting, holds sway over
body and spirit. The third is the actually mediated unity, which,
rising above body and soul, includes and transfigures both.

To this trichotomy is related that into which Plato analyzed
both the individual Soul and the State. First is the body— that
which obeys and serves— the basis of all further development, to

160 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

eTrLOvixrjTLKov rj ;)^p77/iaTtcrTtAcoi' ; the second, or the mean between the
first and last, is the Soul, or that which simultaneously sunders and
reunites, called to 6v/jlikov r) Ovfxo-ethh and iiriKovpiKov ; the third
is the spirit, or the mean above the first and second, the unity of
both, or Reason, to XoyiariKov, 6 Nov^. In so far as the soul is
thought as abstracted from its external body, its body subsists
through its (soul's) individuality ; its soul is its self-consciousness,
with which are necessarily bound up the consciousness of its ob-
ject and its owm distinction, therefrom ; the third is Reason, or
the Spirit which takes up into itself and mediates both the pre-
ceding phases of development. The first is Hypothesis, the sec-
ond Antithesis and Synthesis, the third Thesis: or, 1, Soul; 2,
Consciousness as distinguishing and uniting; B, Spirit or Reason.

The development of the soul into consciousness, and of conscious-
ness into spirit, is experimentally confirmed : it is in general rep-
resented as an awakening. Even the rudest empirical theories
of the soul teach something of this awakening ; but the truth of
this phenomenon, the content of this observation, is not brought
to light. To us, however, this progress of the soul, through its own
self-diremption into inner and outer and conscious mediation, has
revealed and vindicated itself as the universal dialectic of imme-
diacy.

That the soul in its progressive movement develops from itself,
receiving into itself nothing foreign and external, is proved in the
end by the f^ict that the soul, in its highest perfection as spirit,
has no other content than before. The nature of the soul, after
as before its development, consists in the identity of thought
and the object of thought. The perfection of the soul is simply
the mediation of this unity and its elevation into consciousness.
The child longs for and tries to grasp tl\e moon, because he feels
it as his object, and dependent on himself; this is the soul's im-
mediate unity with its other. The youth recognizes the differ-
ence from and the elevation above himself of what seemed before
one with him and subject to him ; finally, the man comprehends
that the star which the child tried to seize with his hands is but a
single moment in the totality of spirit.

Through this same organic process of estrangement, and its re-
moval, the immediate unity of love comes to its rational media-
tion or idea. The realized idea of love is marriage. Parallels

The Immortality of tJie /Soul. 161

and symbols of marriage are found tbrougliout the splieres of
spirit. Unity is followed by separation, separation by reunion,
betrothal, marriage. We discern these organic moments in the
tender and significant myth which closes the old world and opens
the new ; this myth belongs essentially to the history of the doc-
trine of immortality. In it we see how Psyche, the king's dauirh-
ter, outgrows her origin and breaks loose from it ; how, like Iphi-
genia, she is exposed by her own parents ; how she is rescued and
borne away by Ze))hyr, and transplanted immediately into imme-
diate relation or spontaneous union with the all-unifying Spirit of
love. She rests in love, in inmost oneness with the unseen and
invisible God. But there comes a moment of temptation— temp-
tation which she does not resist. She is enticed by the longing to
know. She steps out of innocence and unconsciousness not only
into knowledge, but into alienation. She feels the misery and
degradation of estrangement ; she knows the bitterness of slavery,
and in the sweat of her face performs her cruel tasks. But she
has also the hope of deliverance; she struggles to cancel differ-
ence and annul separation, thus reuniting herself with the alien-
ated Spirit of love. He, in the distance, is still near her; in the
supreme moments of trial, he sustains her. At last she is con-
scious of reconciliation and deliverance ; the bridegroom comes ;
love realizes itself in marriage; the marriage is ratified in heaven,
and the bride receives immortality, for immortality consists in
this marriao-e of the mortal and the divine.

In this ancient myth, the development of the soul through its
successive grades is embodied and illustrated: but the content of
the soul is not disclosed ; the determinations remain abstract ; the
result unmediated. For logical development, we have compounded
•with a poetic myth ; immortality does not seem to develoj) itself,
but to be bestowed from without. We have followed the course
of development in time, and seen it attain its crowning result.
The soul is at the goal of the race; and tnis may involve the de-
struction of the soul. As the soul has risen out of immediate
unconscious unity, shall it not complete the circle of its life by
return into the same? Is this final rest the reconciliation which
follows the long and weary struggle?

So it appears: the soul's movement, which we have traced
empiricallv, does not necessitate the iimnortality of the soul.
XVII— 11

162 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

Completing itself in time, it needs no eternal continuance. This
appearance will, however, at once negate itself, for it is based upon
the outward course of development, and has taken no cognizance
of the content of this development. The next step, therefore, is
to consider the various stages of the soul's movement with refer-
ence to their content, and its unfolding, in order to determine if
anything further follows from it.

To exhibit the nature of the soul involves, according to Plato,
a long and divine investigation. This investigation is, however,
nothing external, but consists in the immanent self- development
of the soul into Spirit, which is the realized idea of the soul. The
investigation is a long one, because it implies this internal realiza-
tion; and, if the soul is immortal, its immortality consists in its
development into spirit, in its exhibition of the idea of the soul
through making explicit all that this idea implies. This develop-
ment can only be called " divine " in so far as the Godhead is its
beginning and its end. To experience its length, we must travel
again, with slow and carefully considered steps, the road over
which we have already rapidly passed. We often gain more by
repeating a journey than in making it for the first time. With
reference to our beginning, m'c must at first place it in the soul,
for it belongs to the thought of immanent development that noth-
ing shall be given from without ; the initial question must, there-
fore, be what the soul can find in itself. The end of the course in
which the soul moves we may name, in advance, the Spirit ; but
we must inquire, definitely what is the Spirit, and how, follow-
ing the movement of the soul, we can find its beginning and its
end in God.

The Sources and Faculties of Cognitim. 103

THE SOURCES AND FACULTIES OF COGNITION.

TRANSLATED PROM THB POLISH OF E. TBENTOWSKI > (FROM THE FIRST VOLUME OF H18 " LOOIC")

BY I. rODBIELBKI.

{Continued from the October Number.)

We pass now to the regions of the complete selfhood, the verj
soul, that is, to the cognition, in wliich our selfliood measures
itself with the core of all existence, with God's Word (Logos), in
the creation with God himself, and' also perceives itself, with its
great and holy object, in the philosophical difference in itiditier-
ence or in the union of harmonious compromise.'

Attention {attentio, die Aufmerksamkeit) is the iirst power of
our complete selfhood, of the very selfhood, of the true selfhood,
or the soul. There is a correspondence between man's divine
nature and the senses in the external man, or the iujagiiiation in
man's internality ; it corresponds also with the senses and imagi-
nation. Within it the senses and imagination come to tiieir piiilo-
sophical difference in indifference, or unity in compromise. And
truly without the senses and imagination, attention is an utter
impossibility. Concentrating our attention upon something, we
concentrate also our senses, together with their comnion percep.
tion ; besides, we let loose the reins of our imagination, that it
may seize upon the object and change its multiplicity into a unity.

We can turn our attention towards the objects of the material

' "Next to Cieszkowski is Stanislaus Ferdinand Trentowski, who lived at Freiburg »
long time in exile [banished in 1830, on occasion of revolution in Poland — he was born
in 1808], and gave lectures there. His ' Grundlage der Universellen Philosophie '
(Carlsr., 1837) and ' Wissenschaft der Natur' (1840) attempt to proceed beyond llegel.
He combines the Cartesian principle, ' cogito ergo sum,' with the sensualistic ' scntio
ergo res est ' — just as had been done before by all true and whole philosophers, although
only in individual insights, and he crowns tliis work c*" combination with the prin-
ciple, 'Therefore I perceive God is.* This concrete philosophy he divides into essen-
tial, formal, and essential-formal philosophy, and each of these again into three disci-
plines. The first contains the three disciplines : (a) Philosophy of Nature ; (6) of
Spirit; (c) of God manifesting Himself. The second includes (a) Grammar; (6) Logic
and Mathesis ; (c) .(Esthetic. The third includes (a) Criticism of Experience ; (6) Rea-
son ; (c) Perception. The pedagogical writings of Trentowski, written in the Polish
language, are very much prized by his countrymen." — [J'raii.'ilutrd from Erdmann'*
*' Grundriss der Gcschichte der Phil.,'' % 346, 15.]

164 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

world as well as towards those of the immaterial world. All this-
proves that attention is quite as much of an empirical as of a-
speculative nature, or of a philosophical nature; therefore it is
not the power of our body nor of our spirit, but of our very self-
hood, our very soul.

Attention is the mother of scientific observation {ohservationes i
die Beobachtungen). The child has the qualities of its mother..
Because observations can be both physical and psychical, they be-
long especially to the objects of life; in this realm they are the
creation of our complete selfhood. Although attention is already
the power of the complete selfhood or the soul, still it is only the
first degree and the lowest one. It seizes upon the essence of
things, but in an external manner, only like a little child. It is
the philosophical mind in its infancy.

Reflection {deUheratio^ animadversio intuitus, comMnatio, etc.,
Anschauen, Schauen, Ueherlegen, etc.) is the second power of
our proper selfhood. It is the mature and cultivated attention,
or it is the youthful stage of the comprehending mind. Reflection
obtains mastery over the complete truth, but as yet only with re-
gard to the form, and therefore it constitutes the source of mathe-
matics. Its nature is to deliberate between the substance and the
form, but to seize upon the form and to reject the substance.
Yet the form which it gives us is quite as much of empirical as
of speculative nature. And so, for instance, geometry proves its
theorems a priori^ but, drawing its figures on the blackboard, it can
represent its thoughts a posteriori. Arithmetic also is a product
of spirit, but the writing of numbers makes it visible. It is a
proof that reflection unites sensuousness and rationality, and that
it is of a philosophical nature. Taking the thing accurately, the
memory and judgment find their philosophical difference in in-
difference, or their union in harmonious compromise, in the reflec-
tion. If you deliberate upon something, you must have in your
memory all that preceded, and you must discern whether that
which follows has any connection with the premises. It is the
mathematical thinking. Therefore memory is a body, and judg-
ment is a spirit ; but reflection is the selfhood and soul of these
two beings. Reflection, as the faculty of seizing the form, gives
us axioms. The geometrical elements, for instance, are these
axioms, or self-evident truths. The material and intellectual evi-

The Sources and Faculties of Cognition. 105

dence is their attribute. But reflection, as well as attention, is
not yet the source of philosophical cognition, for while the latter
touches its object externally, reflection seizes upon it only by the
formal side. Neither of them penetrates into the very essence.

The comprehensive Mind (Myst, in Polish, having no corre-
sponding word in any other language— not even in Greek, and
in German only the approximate expression, wahrnehmendex
Gemilth—h the foundation of the Polish-Slavonian philosophy)
is the third and the last faculty of the recognizing selfhood, the
Soul itself It is reflection in its second potence, and attention in
its third potence. The comprehensive inind does not touch truth
and knowledge externally, like attention ; nor does it seize upon
them by the formal side, neglecting the substance, like reflection ;
but it forces itself into the depth of their essence. The under-
standing and reason attain in the comprehensive mind to their
philosophical difference in indifference, or their eternal imion, in
the complete reconciliation and harmony. As the understandino-
IS the highest empirical, and reason the highest metaphysical, so
the comprehensive mind is the highest philosophical power of
cognition. Since the comprehensive mind forces itself into the
essence of truth and knowledge, it is the most certain source of
cognition.

On this account it deserves our fuller consideration. The com-
prehensive mind is the father, principle, and source of the senses,
as well as of reason. Sense is what is outside of our comprehen-
sive mind, or what is found by our mind — its externality, its body ;
but reason is what is through mind, or what is in mind — the inter-
nality of mind, its spirit. Properly speaking, there are neither
senses nor reason, but mind only, under one of its aspects external,
under another internal, and under a third essential or proper.
This constitution of the comprehensive mind makes it the chief
source of cognition, which has the two tirst sources — to wit : the
■senses and reason — for its factors. The comprehensive mind, then,
is our total selfhood in its philosophical fulness, and, opening itself
towards the fulness of all existence, it is the fundamental truth
and knowledge in us, or it is God's breath within us {notio) look-
ing up to deity and God ; it is the eye of our actuality, seeing
around itself actuality. The comprehensive mind, as the senses
and reason, and, secondly, as our passivity and activity, fused into

166 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

one, is energy ; and, if developed sufficiently in its divine nature^
it is spontaneity. Hence, it has all theoretical categories that be-
long to energy and spontaneity for its predicates, and it consti-
tntes within us, and also perceives without us, these things, namely :
totality, omnipresence, singleness, liberty, actuality, limitation,,
congruity, essence, majesty, independence, selfhood, and dignity.
As living spontaneity, and possessed of the feeling of self and self-
hood, it is the temporary focus of all spontaneity, of all feeling of
self and selfhood in the creation. But as God alone is sponta-
neity, feeling of self and selfhood in the creation, therefore the
comprehensive mind is the mirror in which God perceives Him-
self, and comes to his Word in time. Our full selfhood or the
soul is on the one side, God on the other, the comprehensive mind
constituting the nodus or bond of difference in indifference be-
tween these two polar axes. It is, if I may say so, the conductor
between our selfhood and God. Over this conductor God flows
into our breast, and our selfhood or the Soul to God. Without
the comprehensive mind, we could not even meet with the thought
that God exists ; without it we should not be acquainted with our
Father and Lord ; without it we should not have self-respect, feel-
ing of self; we should not believe in truth, beauty, and virtue ;
without it conscience would be impossibility, and godliness a
chimera! It is the power of living deity within us ; it assures us
that liberty and immortality are qualities of our being; that even
in prison we can deserve honors, because we have not succumbed
to the evil around us, and have not stained our pure selfhood or
the Soul. It breatlies into us the omnipotence of God, which
nothing can resist, and it clothes us with the purple robes of char-
acter. As the senses have sensuonsness, and reason has rational
things or ideas, so the comprehensive mind has the things of mind
for its object. The comprehensive mind sees truly matter andi
spirit ; the divine, however, is everywhere, the end of its search.
As the expression of the self-conscious selfhood, it conquers self-
consciousness. Its cognition lies within the difference in indiffer-
ence expressed by self-consciousness = self-consciousness. Because
the self-conscious is everywhere the object and subject in one
fusion, the difference in indifference of mind's cognition may be
expressed as follows : the object-subjectivity in us is equal to the
object-subjectivity out of us. It is the true object-subjectivity

The Sources and Faculties of Cognition. 167

wliich is the foundation of the Polish-Slavonian philosophy. The
Germans have sought for this a lono; time, but hitherto in vain.

The comprehensive mind, being the nnity of the understanding
and reason, compreliends all that belongs to these two faculties; it
is, therefore, sense-perception, memory and understanding, iniagi-
nation, judgment, and reason ; besides, it is attention and reflec-
tion, for these are mind itself, but on a lower degree of develop-
ment.

By this, all faculties of our full selfhood fuse together and
make it the chief monarch in the region of cognition. It may be
said that it is only one faculty of our selfhood, but assuming more
and more a special form, because the senses — perception, memory,
imagination, and attention— are only the expression of the com-
prehensive mind.

As the senses produce empiricism, and reason speculation, so
the comprehensive mind produces philosophy. As mind is the
common focus of the senses and reason, so philosophy is the com-
mon focus of empiricism and speculation, l^ot only God Himself,
but every word of God, penetrates through our mind into our self-
hood or the soul, and changes there into man's word. Therefore,
man's word is the true word of divine wisdom, though this word
expresses eternity in time only, and therefore is transient. The
comprehensive mind, being the unity of the senses and reason, or
that of the faculty of our existence and of our nothingness, is the
faculty of our living in time and of our divine state, or of our bio-
sophism and our theosophism. Hence, it is twofold — the temporal
and the eternal. The temporal mind has for its object the temporal
divine life, and prevails in the fields of political life ; but the eter-
nal mind is occupied with the eternal truth, and stands forth in
philosophy. Mind creates comprehensions {acroamata).

As the comprehensive mind is the focus of all faculties of our
selfhood, so within acroamata or comprehensions melt impres-
sions, representations, recollections, conceptions ; ideals, judg-
ments, ideas ; observations, and axioms or mathematical truths.
Comprehension is the dome of the sky set around \vith all these
stars. For the examples of comprehension provide for all total,
perfect actualities which our logic has introduced, to wit:
essence, existence, essence in existence ; biosophism, theosophism,
congruity, self - consciousness, being, God, selfhood, miud, etc.

168 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy,

The comprehensive mind is the last and highest power of our self-
hood ; hence, this analysis of the sources and faculties of cognition
finishes with it.

Remark I.

The human soul, as selfhood, the true image of God, may be
compared to the mathematical point, which expands into a globe;
or it is a totality within the totality ; if. is the centrum of man and
man himself. It is the perfect organism, from which no one link
can be removed without a general injury. The same thing is true
in regard to the faculties of cognition, being the qualities of our
selfhood. On this account, the senses — perception, memory, and
the understanding; imagination, judgment, and reason ; attention,
reflection, and the comprehensive mind — every faculty taken sepa-
rately, is an empty abstraction ; and it is the true actuality only
when it embraces in itself the full mind and the total selfhood.

On this account, pure sense-perception, pure reason, pure reflec-
tion, and even pure mind, are absurd impossibilities. As in the
selfhood, so in the cognition ; totality lives in every point; there-
fore, the entire man lives in the senses, in the reason, and in the
mind. What is true of the sources of cognition, the same is true
of the streams that flow therefrom. There is, accordingly, no
pure empiricism, no pure speculation ; but in both is to be found
the philosophy in which either reality or ideality prevails.

In the three sources of cognition we have the entire analysis of
truth and knowledge. Sense is: existence, wholeness, substance,
simultaneity, necessity, usefulness, etc. Reason, again, is : noth-
ingness, negation, unity, causality, sequence, legality, nobleness,
etc. Mind is : biosophism, theosophism, totality, harmony, liberty,
goodness, etc. The sensuous cognition is called a posteriori ^ the
rational, a priori ^ but that of the comprehensive mind is called
a posteriori and a priori; together, that is a totali. The first
cognition is practical, the second is theoretical ; the third is practi-
cal and theoretical together — that is, synthetical. Analyzing
truth, knowledge, and cognition according to our three different
faculties, we could find more than two hundred thousand cate-
gorical principles of philosophy lying in the things and in our
selfhood, and hence as many philosophical systems. We mention
this in order to call attention to the fact that one general philoso-
phy is an impossibility on the earth, and equally impossible is one

Ohjeots and their Interaction. K)!)

creed ; and that it is the duty of every man to develop, by his own
thinking, his individual conviction. This he will do if he knows
how to appreciate sntticiently the deity within his breast.

One God, one philosophy, or one creed is to be found only in
heaven; on the earth are millions of Selfhoods or Souls, and,
hence, millions of spontaneous convictions. Some great aim —
for example, the fighting for native land, or for virtue, liberty,
light, and progress — happens to be, in this world, the common tie
among them. In such cases, all men, truly cultivated and free,
become as one man.

(To be concluded in tJie next number.)

OBJECTS AND THEIR INTERACTION.

BY JAMES WARD.

We may come eventually to doubt the possibility of isolated
simple objects as the psychical atoms, so to put it, of which our
mature perceptions and intuitions are built up ; still it will be best
to let this conception pass unchallenged for the present. But in
any case we can have no direct acquaintance with them. For the
simple object is to be conceived without relations to other objects,
either temporal, spatial, substantial or causal : it is presented to a
subject and has Position in this sense, and that is all. Those defi-
nitions of it, therefore, which involve a reference to the body are
psychologically manifestly faulty. And even when brought into
relation with other objects, it does not admit of classification, for
it has not qualities, but only a quality, whereas classification is only
possible where there is both agreement and difference, or, in logical
language, both genus and difl'erentia. Thus, since quality implies
classification, we ought, perhaps, when exact, to speak of the con-
tent rather than of the quality of a simple object. The concep-
tion of an object or sensation pure and simple is, in fact, a limit

• [Discussed at the Moral Science Club, at the rooms of Mr. James Ward, M. A., Fel-
low of Trinity College, Cambridge University, England. Printed in this journal by per-
mission of the author. — Ed.]

170 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

we never reach, and never can reach, bj real analysis. But we-
know directly — i. e., by actual decomposition — that many, nay
most, of the objects we ordinarily take to be homogeneous and sin-
gle are really heterogeneous and compound ;' and we have indirect
evidence that such complexity exists even further than we can
directly trace it." Hence, though we cannot reach a demonstrably
simple object, it is often assumed that there are sucli, and, in
attempting to give a constructive or synthetic account of mind^
psychologists, such as Spencer, Lewes, and others, start from this
ideal limit.' And it is evident that in such a conception we have
reached in one direction the " utmost verge " of psychology, if we
have not even gone beyond it.

But whatever grounds we may have for regarding our ordinary
sensations as complex, we are certainly not warranted in attribut-
ing this complexity to association as we know it. Between the
complexity of the sensation of purple, and the complexity of the
perception of an orange, there is a twofold difference : (1) the
elements of the former, when separately presented, do not revive
each other, whereas the sensations associated in the latter do ; and
(2) the complex in the latter case is, but in the former is not, the
sum of its constituents and directly analyzable. It is quite possi-
ble both modes of composition have something in common at bot-
tom ; but however this may be, distinct terms are necessary to
prevent them from being confused. Without attaching any im-
portance to Mill's conception of mental chemistry, we shall, I
think, do well to speak of the complexity of our ordinary sensa-
tions as due to combination.

There is one fact about the relation of these ordinary sensations
to each other which, though well known to physicists, is scarcely
recognized by psychologists ; ^ and that is that in several cases,

' The clearest case is Helmholtz's discovery of the composite character of musical
notes, vowel sounds, etc. ; next come mixed colors, the combination of taste and aroma,
taste or smell, and pungency ; the touch of a wet surface, etc., etc. Cf . on this point
Helmholtz, " Lshre von den Tonempfindungen," Abt. i, § 4 fin.

' In the case, e. g., of musical tones ; in the variations of quality in colors, and even
in sounds, as the intensity is varied ; in similar variations depending upon the extent
of surface stimulated, etc.

3 Cf. esp. Spencer's chapter on the Substance of Mind, " Psychology," vol. i.

* Wundt is the one conspicuous exception, and he apparently only because he treats
of physiological optics, acoustics, etc.

Objects and their Interaction. 171

perhaps in all, they constitute groups of continua. A musical
tone or the color of the sky does not admit of classification any
more than the position of London does ; but as this belongs to tliat
continuum we call the surface of the globe, so do they to a con-
tinuum of tones and colors respectively. But by a continuum
here I mean a series of objects such that between any two a series
of others may be, or may be conceived to be, interposed so as to
differ the less the more they approximate in the series. We may
represent the form of a continuum spatially so long as the kinds
of difference do not exceed three. When one of these differences
is intensity, we find very strikingly in some cases, but more or less
in all, that continuous change of intensity involves continuous
change of quality too.' Among motor objects we find groups of
continua of two kinds — (1) what 1 have called motor objects
proper, the feelings of innervation, effort or resistance of psycholo-
gists, and (2) auxilio-motor objects, i. e., those muscular sensations
by which we come, to know the position of our limbs. Of the last
there are, of course, several groups,'and the constituent objects are
manifestly complex. Under normal circumstances motor objects
are always accompanied by auxilio-motor, but in disease or passive
movements they are separated, and their distinctness thus made
manifest. In motor objects, qualitative differences are at a mini-
mum, the continuum consisting almost wholly of gradations of in-
tensity. We shall have to return to these in analyzing our space
perception ; at present I want to bring into one view still more
elementary facts.

The first of these is as important as it is obvious : the fact, viz.,
that there are some objects the presentation of which is an abso-
Inte bar to the simultaneous presentation of others. Now, we shall
find that such incopresentable objects are those which are members
of the same class, or rather continuum. Any color may be pre-
sented with any sound, or taste, or temperature. But one color
inhibits another: and one taste or touch another in like manner.
Still, many things are parti-colored, and we may feel hot on one

' The most striking case being that of color, all colors alike approximating to white
or black as the illumination increases or decreases. Musical notes become harsh when
too loud, though pure tones, I believe, do not. In these facts we have, as already men-
tioned, evidence of the complexity of color and notes. In temperature the chief varia-
lion is iu intensity, the qualitative variation being small.

172 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

side and cold on the other. Thus, we have here a new complication,
and jone which it may be thought can only be explained by the
help of space. But space is not the only j9rmc«ji?m^ individua-
tionis, fur several tones may be presented simultaneously, between
which there is no spatial relation. But then they must all be dif-
ferent, whereas several colors or touches, apparently identical, can
be presented together. We are thus brought to recognize a fact
commonly overlooked — what Mr. Bain calls the mass or volume
of a sensation. It is, however, worth while trying to give a more
precise account of it than Mr. Bain does. The Held of sight or
the irritation of a mustard plaster are instances of a mass of sensa-
tion. Of such we cannot, I think, say that they consist of a num-
ber of objects identical in quality and intensity, but distinguished
by difference of place. For, although this fact of massiveness as
distinct from intensity is an essential element in our perception of
space, it is evidently not the whole of it. In this experience of
massive sensation alone it is impossible to find other elements
which an analysis of spatial intuition yields. But we may say
that the constituent objects in question are not really identical
in quality, but that each is a combination of one of a number of
qualitatively identical objects with one of a continuum. To such
continuum we may, if we choose, give the name of " spatial qua-
lia" or "local signs,"' provided we regard it as merely a con-
tinuum of objects, and not as a space. The simultaneous pre-
sentation of two different objects is a fact for which we do not
feel bound to seek a reason, but for the simultaneous presentation
of two apparently identical objects we do.

If we can justify this hypothesis of continua of local signs, we
can give a more exact expression to the incopresentability of cer-
tain objects. Thus, in any given continuum, we should say that
the same local sign cannot at the same time be united with more
than one object out of a series, all of which may be successively
united with it, and any of which may be simultaneously united
with other local signs in the same continuum. We may represent
this symbolically. Thus, M A . . . B . . . C . . . D be the continuum
of colors, r, r, ^3 r^. . . the continuum of local signs with which

' For an exposition of this brilliant speculation of Lotze's, see his " Metaphysik," B.
iii, ch. iv.

OhjecU and their Interaction. 173

color is combined, then Ar^ Ar, Ar, or Ar, Rr^ Cr^ is possible
simultaneously, but not ABr^ BCr^, though Ar^ Br^ may be fol-
lowed by Br^ Cr^, and so on.' But even this statement that Ar^
may be followed by Br, is too general. That there is some law,
even in the succession of sensations, is shown by the existence of
complementary after-sensations, or after-images, as they are less
exactly called."

The intensity and extensity {sit venia verho) of compound pre-
sentations of tlie same group are not independent. An increase
of intensity in any given object involves the simultaneous presenta-
tion of others in the same continuum. To this corresponds
Lewes's Law of Irradiation, though I fear there are no f}\cts to
justify the wide range he gives it. The conditions of irradiation
are, however, very different in diflPerent senses, irradiation being
least in the highest senses, ?'.«?., where voluntary attention is most
excited. Again, an increase in the volume of a sensation is so far
equivalent to an increase in intensity that objects which do not
otherwise rise above " the threshold of consciousness " secure
attention by such increased extensity. Thus, in determining the
minimum sensibile, both quantities have to be taken into account.

The above are some out of a number of facts which have been
supposed to lie outside the pale of psychology. Let us now pass
to those interactions of objects commonly allowed to be psycho-
logical, where tliese discarded facts may be found to help us. A
preliminary question meets us here, viz., as it is ordinarily
worded, whether we can be conscious of, or attend to, more than
one thing at a time. Unless an affirmative answer can be given
to this question, psychologists who discuss the interaction of
objects must be much deluded men. But, in fact, the whole

' The sense of hearing, however— so far, at least, as tones go— seems an exception,
or rather a special case. For it is doubtful, I think, whether volume of sound, as dis-
tinct from intensity, is possible. If so, we cannot have Jr, Aft Arj.. ., hut only
Ari Bvi Ci'a

* Of these, the most striking instances are furnished by sight. If we stare at a
bright spot on a dark ground, and then look away, we see a dark spot on bright
ground. If we dip a hand into warm quicksilver, the hand feels cold on withdrawing
it; if into cold, it feels warm on being withdrawn. After carrying a weight, and ex-
periencing the effect of gravitation, we come for a while to believe in " levitation."
There exists at present no general investigation of this subject, though Bering's specu-
lations make it one of great interest.

174 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

question is due to a confusion between voluntary concentration of
attention and that non-voluntary attention which mere presenta-
tion determines. It is true that attention cannot have two foci,
but it is not all focus. As in tbe special case of sight, we see
much more than we look at, so we must admit, in the general
case, a field as well as a focus of attention.' Subject then only
to the law of incopresentability objects of every sort and kind
may be presented together, and, being so presented, become
" associated." Of this association we have not, I think, any evi-
dence at the time it may be supposed to have taken place : it is
not till some one or more of the objects is presented again that
the association becomes manifest. We tind that the association is
more complete the more intense and the more frequent the pre-
sentation. But what is the fact itself, our ignorance of which we
cover by this simile of association ? Do objects really stick or
fuse together when they are simultaneously presented often
enough and at the requisite intensity, as Mr. Bain's " adhesion by
contiguity " might seem to imply ? Or are they bound by hidden
links, by which they drag each other on and off the stage of con-
sciousness in accordance with Herbart's psycho-dynamics ? Lotze
is of opinion that any investigation into the nature of association
must be fruitless.' But, if so, association should be a hrst prin-
ciple, and ought to admit of such a statement as shall remove the
need for inquiry. So long, however, as we are asked to conceive
presentations, originally distinct and isolated, becoming eventually
linked together, we shall, I think, feel the need of some explana-
tion of the process. For neither the isolation nor the links are
clear. Not the isolation, for we can only conceive two presenta-
tions separated by other presentations intervening in a continuum
or a series of presentations; nor the links, unless these also are
objects, and then the difficulty recurs. But if for contiguity we
substitute continuity, and suppose the " associated " objects to be
parts, not isolated wholes, we shall have to ask first, not how the
distinct and originally disconnected objects, ABC, are converted
into a unity, A B 6", but how an originally undifi^erentiated
presentation, or mass of presentations {ABC\ ditotum ohjectivum^

' Wuiidt's " Blickfeld und Blickpunkt des Bewusstseins."
' " Metaphyaik," s. 526.

Objects and their Interaction. ITS

as it were, becomes separated into partially distinct o]>jects.
Against this view it cannot be urged that such differentiation
involves, at bottom, the same inconceivability as the commonly
assumed process of integration. We cannot conceive the homo-
geneous becoming heterogeneous, it is true, but we can suppose
differences, which were obscure before, to become distinct throunrh
changes in the intensity of presentation or attention. And we are
by no means without evidence in support of this supposition. The
question has been canvassed in part already in discussions concern-
ing the primum, cognitum: ' that attention proceeds in the main
analytically, is first extensive and -general, then concentrated and
intensive, there can be no doubt. The increased sensibility of
sight, touch, hearing, and even of taste and smell, consequent on
practice, can be represented as due to a restriction of intensity to
a particular object in a continuum over which the intensity was
irradiated before. It is quite impossible now to imagine the effects
of years of experience removed, and to picture the character of our
infantile presentations before our own movements had enabled us
to localize or project them, and before our interest had led us,
habitually, to concentrate attention on some and to ignore others,
whose intensity thus diminished as that of the former increased.
In place of the many things we can now see and hear there would
then be not merely a confused presentation of the whole field of
vision and of a mass of indistinguishable sounds, but even the
continua of sounds and sights themselves would be without their
present distinctness. Thus, the farther we go back the nearer we
approach to a total presentation which had the character of one
general continuum in which differences were latent. Even if
there were no other grounds for assuming the existence of such a
continuum, the facts of association would almost justify it; for in
what other way can we represent to ourselves the connection
between one presentation and another? And, after all, what else
do psychologists mean by the unity of consciousness at any mo-
ment ?

But, even if we see grounds for rejecting the current conception
of isolated objects, we shall find, I think, yet other difficulties in
the conceptions of Ke-Presentation commonly received. We shall,

' Cf. HamUton, " Metaphysics," ii, pp. 327 AT.

176 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

I -presume, agree at once to reject as extra-psychological everj
attempt to explain this fact by the properties of nerve-substance.
From the days of Descartes onwards such explanations have been
in vogue, and yet it is evident at once that they involve terms
that are psychologically^ unmeaning. It may be that re-presenta-
tion is psychologically inexplicable, although its physiological
counterpart is known and admits of explanation ; but we cannot
make this explanation do duty for a psychological one any more
than we can tie a knot in a ring with our fingers, because the-
problem is analytically feasible in space of higher dimensions.
But what do we mean by Re-presentation ? Postponing for a
while the inquiry into the differences between presentations and
re-presentations in the sense of impressions and images, let us con-
sider simply what we understand by the re-presentation after an
interval of some particular image. To this end, we must take a
case in which there is not merely re presentation, but memory.
A certain idea (m,) occurs to us, and we say we recognize it as
identical with (m,), which occurred some time ago. But now
there cannot be two images here, or we could not, with any exact-
ness, speak of identity or re presentation, and yet there must be
somethino; to iustifv the distinction of "now" and "then." In
other words, there can be no classification of m^ and m, as two
images identical in kind; there can only be a single presentation
(w) complicated ' with certain other presentations, making the total
to be 7?i,,2. Actual observation will, I feel confident, show this to
be in fact the case. What, then, is true, when only we can Tcnow
that we are dealing with i-e-presentation, forms, or ought to form^
part of our conception of re-presentation. Wherever we talk of
re-presentation there is so far one identical image as the kernel
complicated with certain others; and these may, on occasion, con^
stitute the whole into a memory-image. If so, there is something
distinctly misleading in Mr. Spencer's exposition of what he calls
" the Associability of Feelings." The following is what he gives
as the " most general statement " of it : " Be there, or be there
not, any other kind of association, the primary and essential asso-
ciation is between each ieeling and the class, order, genus, species,.

' This is a term that calls for explanation, which,^ I trust, will be forthcoming
by and by.

Objects and their Interaction. 177

and variety of preceding feelings like itself." ' Not to quarrel
just now with this unusual use of the term Association— though
it is singular that a form of association to which Mr. Spencer de-
votes two long chapters, recognizing no other, is set aside by Pro-
fessor Bain, in a single sentence, as unimportant' — M'hat I wish to
call in question at this point is simply the idea of a series of
images, ^j, »„ a^ . . . which sort themselves, and are ever accu-
mulating, like spirits on the banks of the Styx. If I see a certain
color or a certain thing a hundred times, I have not a hundred
images, but one image : each succeeding presentation adds certain
environing complications, some of which may be more intensified
at one time, some at another.

What, now, do we know concerning this central image in the
intervals when it is not consciously presented ? Manifestly our
knowledge in this case can only be inferential at the best. But
there are two facts, the importance of which Herbart was the first
to see, from which we may learn something : I refer to what he
calls the rising and falling of presentations. All presentations
having more than a liminal intensity rise gradually to a maximum
and gradually decline ; and when they have fallen below the
threshold of consciousness altogether, the process seems to con-
tinue, for the longer the time that elapses before their " revival,"
the fainter they appear when revived, and the more slowly they
rise. This evanescence is most rapid at first, becoming lefes as the
intensity of the presentation diminishes. It is too much to say
that this holds with mathematical accuracy, although Ilerbart has
gone this length. Still, it is true enough to suggest the notion
that an object, even when it is no longer able to influence attention,
continues to be presented, though with ever less and less absolute
intensity, till at length its intensity declines to an almost dead level
just above zero. So far as the rising or sinking of an object is due
to attention or to the interaction of other objects, we may attempt
a psychological explanation of it; but where it is due directly to
the object itself, no psychological account of the fact seems possi-
ble.^

1 "Psychology," i, § 115, p. 256.
" Mental Science," II, ii, 2, p. 128.

* So far from agreeing with Hamilton and his obscure German, Schmid (Hamilton,
"Lectures," ii, pp. 211-216), that this fact is incapable of physiological interpretation, I

XYII— 12

178 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

To sura up, then, as to Re-presentation : the account I would
give of this conception is as follows : In the first place, regarding
only the single object — such an object is presented. This primary
presentation (or impression) is psychologically an ultimate fact, if
it is not indeed an hypothesis to which our facts drive us. We
have no experience of such a beginning, and yet must postulate
one somewhere. Such presentation, once begun, continues indefi-
nitely long. It may have an end as it had a beginning : oblivion
is possible, but obliviscence seems the rule. What we call re-pre-
sentation is due to an increase in the intensity of such a persisting
object, whereby it is sufiiciently raised above the level of the gen-
eral obscurity to form part of " the field of consciousness." But
then, secondly, such object is only partially single ; at the first it
is actually part of a continuum of objects in such way connected
with it that its further rise above the threshold of consciousness
entails the rise of the adjacent parts of the continuum. When
represented, however, it is found to be thus complicated with parts
of other elementary con tin ua to form a new continuum. We must
be able to give some account of this new continuum if we are to
explain the Association of Ideas.

The only association that can properly be called such is, so far
as I can see, the so-called Association by Contiguity. At all events,
it is with this only that I propose to deal now. Under contiguous
association are included both the association of objects simulta-
neously presented, and that of objects presented in immediate
succession. The last is, I think, the simpler ; let us take it first.
And here again the facts are clearest in the case of those objects
over whose intensity the subject has most complete control — i. «.,
in the case of movements. In such a series of associated objects,
ABODE, etc., we find that each member recalls its successor,
but not its predecessor. Familiar as this fact is, it is not very easy
to see any reason for it. Since C is associated both with B and

would rather say that it is incapable of any other. These writers first regard the image
as " an energy of the self-active power of a subject, one and indivisible," and then
maintain that it cannot " be abolished without a laceration of the vital unity of the
mind as a subject one and indivisible." The evanescence they explain by the finitenesa
of attention. But if this were the sole cause, why in reminiscence do we not find the
object resume its former vividness ? I know nothing more transparently feeble than
this metaphysical psychology which Hamilton has contrived to appropriate.

Objects and their Interaction. 179

D, and apparently as intimately associated with the one as with
the other, why does it revive the latter only and not the former?
B recalls C, why does not C recall B ? If we consider the intensi-
ties of B C and D at the moment when attention is abont to be
fixed upon D, it is evident that the intensity of B will be less than
that of C, and waning, while the intensity of D will be as great or
greater, and waxing. Thus, association in this case appears to de-
pend upon comparative intensity. The same will, I think, be
found true of sensory objects, though here the complication is
much greater. Interest apart, attention — ^. e., to say non-voluntary
attention — passes from the less to"the more intense objects. And
where interest or expectation is great, objects presented in one
order are often attended to in another. In both cases, I think, it
will be found that the order of representation is the order of atten-
tion — the order, i. e., in which the objects occupied " the focus of
consciousness."

The next question is whether the association of objects simulta-
neously presented can be resolved into an association of objects
successively attended to. When we try to recall a room we saw
but for a moment, there are always a few things that recur dis-
tinctly, the rest being blurred and vague, instead of the whole
being revived in equal distinctness or indistinctness. In a second
presentation, our attention is apt to be secured primarily by the
things unnoticed before, as these have the advantage of novelty,
and so on till we have " lived ourselves into " the wiiole, when the
whole admits of simultaneous recall. In such a case we have sub-
stantially what Herbart would have called eitie Ve7'wehung von
Eeihen. Professor Bain takes the trouble to admit something
very like this in a single sentence, but not the least trouble to
square his exposition with it.*

1 "Mental Science " (on Successions), p. 112.

180 The Journal of Speculatwe Philosophy.

HOMEK'S "ILIAD."

BY D. J. SNIDER.

It will be denied by few that the first great literary product of
the world is the poems of Homer. They are the beginning of
what we call Letters: a fact of the very highest import to those
who look to that branch of hnman endeavor, not for entertain-
ment merely, but for a guiding light of life. Homer is the cre-
ative book of Literature ; all books of that sort look back to him
as parent, particnlnrly the poetical books, which are the best. It
may be said that every age, as its literary effect deepens, will find
a deeper signiticance in him, and must have a new comment upon
his works. So it is and must continue to be not only with Homer
but with everv srreat book ; the new time will reveal in it the
new Tueaning; it unfolds with the ages.

The important question, therefore, must come up to the earnest
student. What is it to know truly the Homeric Poems ? Their
variety of suggestion is great and fascinating, and has called forth
many special departments of learning ; erudition has burrowed
into them, and constructed vast underground labyrinths, in whichi
one is always in danger of getting lost. These labyrinthine pas-
sages have, in the first place, no end : a lifetime will not suffice to
explore them ; in the next place, they have no light, being always
in caverns out of the path of the sun. Every new spiritual time
must avoid them and reveal the old poems afresh for its own be-
hoof; not in the darkness of erudition, but in the sunlight of the
poet must the true seeker take up his abode.

Assuredly the matter of first import is comprehension of the
thing in hand ; one most penetrate to the spiritual principle of
the work, reach down into the very soid of its maker and com-
mune with the same. We have not grasped any product till we
become a sharer in the creative activity which made it, and so
pass with it into its being. This deep intimacy with the Poet is
his revelation to us ; before our eyes we must behold his world
rise up from the deep and take on form. Let us enter his work-
shop and follow the generative thought as it bursts into reality,
and thrills and throbs into harmonious utterance. In such man-

Homer's '•'' Iliad P 181

ner we seek to realize this old song, to make it our own, till it
becomes an instructive part of our nature, singing through us into
our own daily life. Tiien we may be said to recognize the soul
of Homer, being transformed into some image of him ourselves;
we have entered into kinship with him ; we fraternize joyfully with
his strangest shapes, and look through his remotest glimpses.

Doubtless the rarest kind of knowledge always is to know what
true knowledge is. It is so often mistaken for Opinion, Con-
jecture, Information, Learning, and other uncertain and impure
forms of human brain-work, that one is inclined to turn away
from every new word, particularly if it be on an old theme. Only
too frequently is such distrust justified. A mountain of commen-
tary has been heaped around all the great works of Literature,
till their light seems to go out in the darkness of illustration.
"We often know so much about the thing that we do not know the
thing itself, cannot know it ; erudition has svvathed it in such
dense, obscure folds that ignorance seems a blessing — indeed, a
veritable illumination. Around and about the matter, never
directly to the heart of it, do our learned guides keep us straying
so long that we have at last to dismiss them and go on by our-
selves as best we can. Knowledge, if this be such, is certainly
getting into great straits, so encompassed with uncertain phan-
tasms that she scarce knows herself, being in deep doubt whether
she be not a phantasm too.

Thus we often hear men speak in wrath and desperation, thus
we may sometimes speak ourselves ; still, wrath is hasty, and
complaint is weakness. With all his shortcomings, we cannot do
without our Interpreter; he is truly a priest in that mighty Liter-
ary Hierarchy which arose with the first great book of Letters,
this Homer, and has extended its spiritual sway down to our pres-
ent age with an ever-increasing power and blessing. The Inter-
preter has a function, too, in this time of ours, indispensable; it
may be very humble, or very elevated ; he may be erudite merely,
wiiich is something; but his highest destiny is to be a spiritual
guide, leading us back to those perennial well-heads of human
culture called Literary Bibles, and teaching us to be again what
their authors, the best and deepest souls of our race, have been,
and thus to be truly ourselves the heirs of Time. The Interpret-
er, then, has his parish, if not his church; a word, weighty, even

182 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

beautiful, is given him to speak — the word of connection between
what is disconnected ; the word of light where there is darkness ;
the word of harmony where, on the surface at least, are seen only
inconsistency, contradiction, confusion. A golden word, uniting
ever where otherwise is separation, it makes head, heart, and
even voice into an instrument upon which the old Poet seems to
be playing again, yet attuned to a modern key-note.

Such is a hint of the ideal Interpreter, from whom the real
one is likely to be quite different. If we now turn to the Iliad,
we must first seek for its creative thought, and thought can be
attained in one way only, by thinking. We shall have to wrestle
with an idea, and, furthermore, witness that idea unfolding into
the members of the poem. This brings us to the organism, the
work, which is to be carefully analyzed, and then re-combined
into unity. Thus we get its structure, or architectonic relations,
which is the framework upon which its life hangs and moves to
its end. This life of the poem comes through individuals whose
characters are to be penetrated and brought into harmonious
relation with one another, and with the entire work. Thought,
organization, characters, must be first separated by reflection, then
re-united into the Whole, which is thereafter to sink into our
feelings, into our life, and become a part of our instinct. Thus
the Homeric world is ours, not through the head alone, but
through the heart, and we have passed into our complete Greek
inheritance.

I. The Iliad is a series of dualisms, beginning with that deepest
one of all, the dualism between the human and divine. But it is-
also a series of reconciliations : it masters its conflicts, and trans-
forms them to harmony. Mark the Gods ; they are infinite, yet
forever dropping down into the finite, which is the image of the
poem, and of the entire Greek consciousness. But, on the other
hand, through this finite side of the Gods we get a glance into
their infinite nature ; this glance is the all-important gift in the
student which he is to bring with him if he is to look into the
old poet's world. It peeps through the divine limitations into
the illimitable ; it sees beyond the quarrels and struggles of Olym-
pus, and beholds the reconciling element of the divinities; the
poetic glance it is which the Homeric man must have had by
nature as the birthright of his age, but which requires some train-

Homer's "■ Iliads 183

ing to recover on onr part. To it the Gods become transparent ;
their strife, passions, jealousies, shortcomings, are but the outer
shell, through which the divine image must be' seen ; this glance
is the flash which spans with a bridge of light the chasm of
Homer's dualisms.

The first and most important of these dualisms is that between
Men and Gods. There is an Upper World, the realm of divinity ;
there is a. Lower World, the home of human action. Everywhere
in Homer these two worlds are seen moving alongside of each
otlier, intermingling, separating; through every Greek soul a
terrestrial and a heavenly streani is pouring, often in conflict and
rage, but finally in placidity and peace.

The main insight is that both these worlds, though distinct to
the outer eye, are one to true vision, to that poetic glance which
beholds harmonies. The Gods must be seen to be in man, other-
wise he is a mere puppet in the hands of external powers, whereby
he loses his freedom. But the Gods must be seen to be outside
of man just as well, otherwise they lose their divinity, being mere-
ly some thought or caprice of an individual. The poem is a poem
of freedom, such has been the faith of the genuine reader in all
ages ; yet it is also a poem of providence, which providence per-
petually hovers over it, and directs it. But its providence fits
into freedom, such is its deepest harmony ; the Gods are both in
the man and in the world ; they are the true essence of the human
soul on the one hand, and the true reality of existence on the
other. Thus the mighty dualism between Men and Gods van-
ishes ; the two opposing sides of it pass into one supreme harmony
in this grand Homeric Hymn of the Universe.

It may be truly afiirmed that the highest test of the apprecia-
tion of Homer is to see this unity of the Upper and Lowei- Worlds
as they stand in his books. Still further, it is necessary to see
out of the finite manifestations of the Gods, out of their follies
and weaknesses, into their universal significance. Xor must this
be grasped as an esoteric doctrine in Homer, as some learned men
have done ; it is simply the natural meaning which, however, re-
quires the poetic vision in order to be truly beheld. Without the
connecting glimpse, Homer remains a dualism— indeed, a chaos of
Gods and Men capriciously tumbling amid one another.

II. We may now pass to consider this Lower World, in which

184 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

there is transpiriug a conflict of prodigious significance — the con-
flict between the Greeks and Trojans. These two peoples are
much alike, with the same customs mainly, with the same religion
and language ; it is clear that thej belong to the same stock : both
are Hellenic. Yet, in this unity of the two, a decided difierence
has set in ; their tendencies are, in fact, quite opposite ; the
Greeks are Hellenes with face turned towards the West, the Tro-
jans are Hellenes with face turned towards the East. We behold
the primitive differentiation of the Hellenic race, and the struggle
of the two sides ; it is the first record of that struggle which is the
soul of the Greek world : Occident versus Orient. The spiritual
separation of Hellas from the East, passing into complete opposi-
tion, is the key-note which Homer strikes in the Iliad ; it is the
great fountain of Greek legend, and the inspiring principle of
Greek history. Nay, this conflict is, perhaps, the chief epoch of
the World's History, exhibiting the transition out of the East to
the West ; and the old poem is the earliest bugle-call of war to
the peoples of Europe for the preservation of the European heri-
tage.

But what is the principle at stake in this long, desperate con-
test? An adequate answer to this question involves much: in-
deed, a new translation of Homer; not, however, of the Greek
tongue into English, but of the Greek soul into English. The
Poet has often stated the object of the war to be the recovery of
Helen, who was the most beautiful of Greek women, also the wife
of a Greek king, Menelaus. She has been taken from country
and home by a Trojan, who will not give her back to Hellas. The
entire Greek world of the West at once arms itself for her restora-
tion, which, after ten years' struggle, they accomplish. Nor is it
to be forgotten that they were more united upon the Trojan War
than upon the Persian War, or any other deed of their history. ■
In their own judgment, as revealed by this act, their very destiny
depended upon the recovery of Helen.

So different is the Greek view from our way of regarding such
a woman that we are forced to ask, What does it all mean?
What does Helen stand for to the Greeks? That she represents
something deep within them, the very deepest, is indicated by the
great sacrifice which they made for her sake. She must be their
principle, their very heart ; her story is the story, already hinted,

Home's '■''Iliads 185

of the Occident against the Orient. The fight before Troy for
her possession is the fight of the Greeks for the very soul of "their
existence; indeed, the matter goes much deeper, as we here can
see who look back over the tract of Time ; it is the fight for the
future inheritance of the race, the question therein propounded
being, Which of these two contestants, Greek or Asiatic, shall be
the bearer of civilization to that new European world now being
born ? The Greek claimed it, and won it, both in legend and in
history, valiantly defending it both at Troy and at Marathon.

It is true that there is a much easier way of looking at this
afiPair of Helen. We may regard it merely as a story which
Homer employed to amuse his listeners, and to get his bread ; he
intended it as a pretty tale and nothing more, and we must not
go beyond his consciousness. All of which simply destroys the
poet, as the maker of a Literary Bible, who must also be a seer,
and build wiser than he knows. Again, the fact of the abduc-
tion of Helen may be taken as literal ; women were often stolen
in early times, as we gather from other testimony than Homer;
in mythical ages it was a common event, often celebrated in le-
gend and song. But the difficulty remains. How is it that this
stoiy has lived, and still lives, after millions of more entertaining
stories have sunk out of sight ? i^'ay, how is it that this story
still puts forth new flowers and bears new fruit, like the tree of
Time itself? But yesterday a new book, a new poem, came out
upon Helen of Troy ; to-morrow there will be another. There
<3an only be one reason : it has the most permanent, universal
theme ; it has within it not merely the heart of Greece throbbing
itself into deepest seductive harmonies, but of Europe, of the
whole West. This universality of its theme must be grasped if
we are to understand the poem.

Some men of learnino- and insiccht have thought that the storv
of Helen may be confined to the Greek cities of Asia Minor,
which stood, as it were, on the battle-lii^ e, and were always en-
gaged in a struggle with Oriental powers. There was a vast
settlement of Greek colonies along the eastern shore of the Archi-
pelago, which had this question perpetually before them : Shall
we remain Hellenic or become Oriental ? Shall our Helen be
Greek or Trojan ? Throughout the history of Greece this same
problem runs, with deep, heroic heart-beats: How shall we free

186 The Journal of Speoulatwe Philosophy.

Greeks restore to liberty our enslaved brothers in Asia? This
enfranchisement of the Asiatic Greek was the object of the
Athenian League, the ambition of Agesilaus, the pretext of Alex-
ander. Well may it be said that the first thing in Greek legend,
the last thing in Greek history, is this story of Helen.

Much, indeed, she meant to the Greek cities of Asia Minor,
where the Trojan battle was perpetually fought over anew ; still
she has a far wider, in fact, a universal meaning. The great
sacred word connected with her name is restoration ; she must be
restored to country and family — that is, to a true, institutional life
out of that ambiguous Trojan condition. One may well see in
this fact a hint of the redemption of the woman from her Ori-
ental state, and of her elevation into a worthy life in the family,
which belongs to the West. Nor is the hint of morality left out,
which is the subjection of the sensuous nature of man to the
rational ; wherein Helen's career shows both the error and the
correction. Paris must perish, Troy must be destroyed ; both
have violated the great moral injunction. Finally, after the
Trojan struggle, Helen became the image of the new world,
which sprang from it, in which the senses are filled with the
spiritual life of Greece, and represent the same ; it is the realm
of beauty in which Helen is the ideal of Art, which embodies the
preceding principles and conflicts of Greek existence to the vision.
This new European world of Institutions, Morals, and Art is the
deep-hidden foundation of Helen's story, which foundation we
must excavate in thought and bring to sunlight, like the buried
walls of Troy and Mycenae, if we are truly to comprehend the
matter.

Assuredly it would be the greatest absurdity to sacrifice thou-
sands of human beings for one merely, unless that one in some
way represented what was truest and best in the thousands. Many
wives, we may suppose, lost their all for that one wife Helen.
But she is what they all are ; the loss of her is the loss of every
Greek woman, and man too. Her restoration is their restora-
tion : so the Greeks feel throughout this poem ; they must take
Troy and restore Helen, else they are not Greeks. Prosaic mod-
ern peoples fight for their flag ; thus they too have their symbol
for which they die. But the Greek flag was Helen, most beau-
tiful of symbok — indeed, just the symbol of beauty. We also

Homer's ^^ Iliad.'''' 187

stake thousands of lives for the life of one citizen who has been
wronged by a foreign nation. In the one we have to see the
all ; if not see, then feel it in the most practical sort of manner.

Helen, therefore, is the image of Hellenic spirit, of all that
Greece means to mankind and to itself. She is the soul of tlie
Greek world, and the form of it too ; botli in her are blended
into one supreme beautiful vision of the ideal. Her restoration
is, consequently, the most important of terrestrial matters ; it
means civilization, freedom, the home ; it means, too, Art, which
now springs into existence in every direction — in sculpture, paint-
ing, poetry ; springs just out of this Iliad, and the return of
Helen which is the theme of it. But we must turn to the Odijs-
sey for the outcome ; there we see Helen restored ; hence in
this, as well as in many other respects, it is the complemfent of
the Iliad. Most deeply we must make this feeling ours ; if
Helen had not been restored, there could have been no Homer,
no Homeric theme of song, no Homeric soul to sing ; indeed, no
Greek world.

So our Aryan race upon the plain of Troy has split again as
it once split in the highlands of Armenia, long antecedent to
History, upon this same question. Orient or Occident, in its earli-
est germ. Tlie one party stayed behind in the Orient, became
Oriental, and there they are yet ; the other party set tlieir face
toward the West, advanced slowly to the boundary of the seas,
doubtless with many wanderings, dissensions, and separations.
But tliis Western party, or a fragment of it, has a second great
separation, far more important than the first, and far more deci-
sive ; at the crossing into Europe it is our Hellenic branch which
appears and divides within itself; it too has to settle anew that
primeval question. Orient or Occident, right on the line of the
transition into the West. This transition is a physical one, but
also a spiritual one, which is the chief fact of it ; it has, more-
over, got a voice now, most wonderful, melodious, sounding down
to this day. That first struggle in the heart of Asia remained
inarticulate, or at most a wild, confused murmur of dim vocables;
but this second struggle on the borderland bursts into splendid
articulation of heroic song, as the separation is made forever
from the Asiatic world. Listen to the Iliad singing the first
and clearest note of the conflict which lasted wlrile Greece lasted.

188 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

lasts to this day. Paris of legend, Xerxes of history, came
against the West ; Agamemnon of legend, Alexander of history,
went against the East ; it is all one theme, making a world-epos,
one in Universal History, one in the human heart. Here, as
elsewhere, the heart-beat and the world-beat make one music,
heard still in all true poetry, heard most distinctly, if not most
profoundly, in this earliest Book of Literature.

in. Such is the great external conflict, as we may call it, the
parties to which are the Greeks and Trojans. But this outer
struggle strikes into the heart of each contending host, and there
becomes an internal conflict ; each side thus finds within itself a
separation into two parties. In Troy we catch repeated glimpses
of the two sides, in wrangling and bitter opposition ; in the Greek
camp the strife within stands quite on a par with the fighting
without. Both are alike ; in both there is the same source of
trouble ; the grand external conflict is transformed to an internal
one, as is certain to happen in a time of war; passing into each of
the opposing sides, it becomes the moving principle of all their
factions and partisanship. Thus the great struggle, which is the
soul of the war, renews itself in each of the opposing forces, imaging
itself in inner dissension as well as in outer war. This double scis-
sion we may trace a little in detail.

First, let us consider the Trojans. At once we see them to be
divided into two parties, vehement, even rancorous, which may be
called the peace party and the war party. They meet repeatedly
and deliberate; the vital question is: Shall Helen be restored?
The Trojans are by no means a unit upon the matter; the one
side will keep the beautiful woman, will sunder wife from hus-
band, will defy the Greeks and their principle ; this is the war
party, headed by Paris, connived at, if not supported by Priam,
the king; it is clearly the controlling influence in Troy. They
are opposed by the peace party, led by Hector and Antenor, who
favor the surrender of Helen to the Greeks, and thus hope to get
rid of the war. But this party does not, and cannot prevail ; it
is the Greek element in Troy, really maintaining a Greek view
against the oriental tendency of the Trojans. Thus we behold an
inner reflection of the great external conflict within the walls, in
fact, within the hearts of the hostile people ; each Trojan man, to
whichever party he belongs, must have some dim struggle in him-

Homer'' s ^'■Iliad.''^ 189

self, whereof the outer real picture is the combat of heroes before
the gates of the city. The wrong of Helen has gone within, and
there makes a war also — a war in every Trojan heart.

We may next turn to the internal troubles of the Greeks, who
are also divided into two parties. They are all agreed that Helen
must be restored by ten years' war if need be ; but a new differ-
ence has arisen peculiar to the Hellenic character. The Heroic
Individual, Achilles, has been dishonored by the man in power,
the supreme commander, Agamemnon ; heroism is distained by
authority. What can heroism do but retire in anger from all par-
ticipation in combat, and let the Gi'eeks see what they are without
their hero ? This scission gives the theme of the lliad^ which is
the wrath of Achilles ; out of such material the poem can be made,
out of the wrath of the best man, which, indeed, must be overcome
before Troy or any other city can be taken. Tiiat is, the Hero,
the Great Man, must be conciliated and restored to his place of su-
preme honor; he is altogether the stoutest link in the whole chain
of the Greek enterprise ; indeed, his is always the first place in the
World's History. So, in this earliest literary book, there must
spring up the question about the significance of the Hero; with
him dishonored it is not worth while to restore Helen, not worth
while for Greece to be. Such is the decree of Zeus the Highest,
written in red letters of battle: first, give back honor due to the
heroic man, then you can recover tlie beautiful woman through
his heroism ; but what is the value of possessing her with him de-
graded ?

The cause of Achilles is, therefore, at bottom, the cause of
Helen ; he, the first of Greek men, striving to restore the first of
Greek women, is injured in his honor by a wanton act of author-
ity ; the wrong done by the Trojans to the woman now finds its
parallel in the wrong done by the Greeks to the man. Indeed,
this injury goes to the very heart of the conflict ; the special form
of the wrong, the taking of Briseis, is like in character to the
taking of Helen; the Greek commander is thus seen to commit
the very offence for which he and his Greek armament are seek-
ing to punish the Trojans. In his own deed must be read his pen-
alty ; the Greek cause, too, is now at war with itself, which is just
the ground of this internal strife ; the Captain ujakes all the Greeks
sharers to a degree in the wrong which they have come to avenge.

190 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

Such is the inner contradiction which has arisen in the Greek
camp, and which Zeus must eliminate before Helen can be saved,
being at complete variance with her restoration. This dissonance,
which lies deep in the Greek soul, must be brought back to har-
mony ; the instrumentality is the wrath of Achilles, the theme of
the poem ; this wrath, also, is a dissonance which must be got rid
of, when the discordant Greeks, made harmonious once more, will
have victory.

In such manner we behold that first great dualism repeating
itself, perpetuating itself in deeds on both sides, imaging itself in
all hearts, Greek and Trojan. The Rape of Helen was that which
originated the external war between Greeks and Trojans ; it di-
vided the Trojans into two hostile parties; it was the same cause
essentially which produced the quarrel in the Greek camp between
Achilles and Agamemnon. The conflict is, indeed, in every soul
on both sides ; it is the miglity dissonance of the age, which it is
just the duty of these valiant Greek warriors to harmonize, inter-
nally as well as externally. It is the problem of the whole Hel-
lenic people ; the story of Helen is the representation of it ; each
Greek before Troy is, in reality, fighting this dualism in himself,
in his own side, in his race. A double, indeed a triple conflict,
therefore ; all phases of which we see come out with intense glow
in the grand embodiment of the nation, the Hero Achilles.

IV. The inner Greek scission has been mentioned : namely, the
quarrel between the two leading men ; it is this which produces
the Iliad with its special theme and its special line of events as
distinguished from the entire Trojan War, whereof the poem oc-
cupies but a few days. This inner scission must be healed, then
the external conflict will end in the fall of Troy ; the Greek Hero
will lay aside his wrath and be reconciled with his own people ;
then he will slay the Trojan Hero, after which there will follow a
second reconciliation, now with the enemy. But ere all these
things transpire there is to be a grand experience, which the
world may well ponder. The Greek people are to wrestle with
this problem : Can we do without our Hero and take Troy ? No,
we cannot, is the thousandfold answer echoing from many fierce
battles on the Trojan plain ; we cannot do without our Achilles ;
there can be no real conquest of Troy unless he be present and in
honor. Such is the one side of this experience, bitter, sanguinary,

Homer's '•''Iliads 191

spelling out in blood its deep lesson to mortal men. But the
other side is not wanting ; the Hero is to find out somewhat too.
Can he do without his people, without his cause in wliich he can
be heroic ? By no means ; he is Hero only as he takes his place
and fights in the desperate front rank of battle ; out of his place,
sulking in his tent, he is not Hero, in fact is a nobody ; much
less than a mediocre man who still fights, though in mediocre
fashion. Thus even the Hero reduces himself with great celerity
to zero.

But he is the person upon whom the eye rests ; the central fig-
ure of the poem is this Heroic Man, who is to teach so much and
to be taught so much. The problem of Individuality it may be
called ; each human being may see himself in this portraiture ;
he too miist find out that only as he takes his place in the ranks
and fights is he anything in the world ; for, if he persists in get-
ting along without the world, the world will persist in getting
along without him. It is better to be reconciled, far better ; take
the example of Achilles, the toughest, most unyielding granitic
character that was ever portrayed ; still he yielded, yielded twice,
to the astonishment, perhaps, but certainly to the deep edification
of all mankind. This, then, is the theme which calls the Iliad
into being : the Heroic Individual in his double Wrath and double
Reconciliation.

Therewith the entire organism of the poem is suggested, to
which we may now give a little study. The first Wrath and Rec-
onciliation embraces what was above called the internal conflict
of the Greek army, the quarrel between Agamemnon and Achilles,
till the two are reconciled (Books 1-19). The Hero is dishonored
by having his prize in war taken from him, his beloved prize, the
maid Briseis, whom he intended to make his wedded wife, equal
in rank with Helen. In such manner is his heroic personality dis-
graced ; wrath is his response to the insult, and not till he sees
that his wrath destroys his heroship, and ^hat he, the Great Man,
is no longer reflected in the deeds of the Greeks, does he cease
from anger, changing internally, and restoring his broken relations
with his people. Such is the first grand division of the lliad^ of
which we must clearly make two subdivisions if we would see
the whole poem in its organic structure. These subdivisions we
may call Achilles in the Right (Books 1-9) and Achilles in the

190 The Journal of Sjoeoulative Philosophy.

In such manner we behold that first great dualism repeating
itself, perpetuating itself in deeds on both sides, imaging itself in
all hearts, Greek and Trojan. The Rape of Helen was that which
originated the external war between Greeks and Trojans; it di-
vided the Trojans into two hostile parties ; it was the same cause
essentially which produced the quarrel in the Greek camp between
Achilles and Agamemnon. The conflict is, indeed, in every soul
on both sides ; it is the mighty dissonance of the age, which it is
just the duty of these valiant Greek warriors to harmonize, inter-
nally as well as externally. It is the problem of the whole Hel-
lenic people ; the story of Helen is the representation of it ; each
Greek before Troy is, in reality, fighting this dualism in himself,
in his own side, in his race. A double, indeed a triple conflict,
therefore ; all phases of which we see come out with intense glow
in the grand embodiment of the nation, the Hero Achilles.

IV. The inner Greek scission has been mentioned : namely, the
quarrel between the two leading men ; it is this which produces
the Iliad with its special theme and its special line of events as
distinguished from the entire Trojan War, whereof the poem oc-
cupies but a few days. This inner scission must be healed, then
the external conflict will end in the fall of Troy ; the Greek Hero
will lay aside his wrath and be reconciled with his own people ;
then he will slay the Trojan Hero, after which there will follow a
second reconciliation, now with the enemy. But ere all these
things transpire there is to be a grand experience, which the
world may well ponder. The Greek people are to wrestle with
this problem : Can we do without our Hero and take Troy ? JS^o,
we cannot, is the thousandfold answer echoing from many fierce
battles on the Trojan plain ; we cannot do without our Achilles ;
there can be no real conquest of Troy unless he be present and in
honor. Such is the one side of this experience, bitter, sanguinary,

Homer's '•'■lliadP 191

spelling out in blood its deep lesson to mortal men. But the
other side is not wanting ; the Hero is to find out somewliat too.
Can he do without his people, without his cause in which he can
be heroic ? By no means ; he is Hero only as he takes his place
and fights in the desperate front rank of battle ; out of his place,
sulking in his tent, he is not Hero, in fact is a nobody ; much
less than a mediocre man who still fights, though in mediocre
fashion. Thus even the Hero reduces himself with great celerity
to zero.

But he is the person upon whom the eye rests ; the central fig-
ure of the poem is this Heroic Man, who is to teach so much and
to be taught so much. The problem of Individuality it may be
called ; each human being may see himself in this portraiture ;
he too must find out that only as he takes his place in the ranks
and fights is he anything in the world ; for, if he persists in get-
ting along without the world, the world will persist in getting
along without him. It is better to be reconciled, far better; take
the example of Achilles, the toughest, most unyielding granitic
character that was ever portrayed ; still he yielded, yielded twice,
to the astonishment, perhaps, but certainly to the deep edification
of all mankind. This, then, is the theme which calls the Iliad
into being : the Heroic Individual in his double Wrath and double
Reconciliation.

Therewith the entire organism of the poem is suggested, to
which we may now give a little study. The first Wrath and Rec-
onciliation embraces what was above called the internal conflict
of the Greek army, the quarrel between Agamemnon and Achilles,
till the two are reconciled (Books 1-19). The Hero is dishonored
by having his prize in war taken from him, his beloved prize, the
maid Briseis, whom he intended to make his wedded wife, equal
in rank witb Helen. In such manner is his heroic personality dis-
graced ; wrath is his response to the insult, and not till he sees
that his wrath destroys his heroship, and *hat he, the Great Man,
is no longer reflected in the deeds of the Greeks, does he cease
from anger, changing internally, and restoring his broken relations
with his people. Such is the first grand division of the lliad^ of
which we must clearly make two subdivisions if we would see
the whole poem in its organic structure. These subdivisions we
may call Achilles in the Right (Books 1-9) and Achilles in the

192 The Journal of Speculative Philosophy .

Wrong (Books 10-19), designating them from the attitude of the
Hero towards his people.

The first subdivision shows Achilles as the injured one, and the
attempt of the Greeks to get along without him, their best man.
They begin the battle afresh ; they bring forward all the lesser
men, who are the valiant warriors after Achilles ; they speak
boldly and fight bravely. But it is of no avail ; their very soul has
gone out of them in the absence of their Hero ; him they must
bring back at all hazards. Accordingly, the embassy is sent to the
wrathful chieftain, ample restitution is offered, and the grand apol-
ogy ; he is fully acknowledged Hero. Thus honor is satisfied, but,
in spite of everything, there remains the wrath, the heroic wrath,
but now empty, devoid of all just ground. Henceforward he is
the implacable sore-head ; he refuses to fit himself into the order
of the world by being reconciled with authority, for even the
Gods, as Phoenix says, are placable.

Here our second subdivision of this First Part begins, showing
Achilles in the wrong, for his right is now turned to a wrong.
He permits the great Hellenic cause, of which he is the Hero, to
be defeated ; he, the grand protector of his friends, allows those
friends to perish, whereof the culmination is reached in the death
of Patroclus, his dearest friend. It is clear that thus he is no
longer the Hero ; his honor has turned to dishonor ; wrath, seek-
ing to vindicate the worth of the individual, has destroyed it.
Then comes his insight into the bitter truth of his conduct, fol-
lowed by passionate repentance ; he is now ready for reconcilia-
tion with the Greeks and Agamemnon. Such is the mighty
change in the "Hero; an internal change it is, and means a trans-
formation of the man, indicating what true heroism is ; there is an
enemy within more defiant than any enemy without, and there is
here a conquest greater than that of Troy — the conquest of him-
self. Hector was easily vanquished by Achilles, but Achilles van-
quished by Achilles is the grandest spectacle of the Iliad ; it is
the turning-point of the poem ; henceforth we may pronounce him
a new man. Yet not complete ; another Wrath rises within him,
which must also be reconciled ; it now turns against the Trojans,
passing from the internal to the external enemy.

This introduces us to the Second Wrath and Reconciliation of
the Hero, constituting the second grand division of the Iliad. It

Homer^s ''''Iliads I93

is the Trojans who have brought disgrace and sorrow upon him
through the loss of his friends. He used Hector and Troy as tlie
instruments of his First Wrath ; but his new insight is that such
a course ends in undoing himself. Achilles brought calamity
upon the Greeks for the sake of honor, but just this calauiity has
in a deeper sense come home to him also as the chief Greek man,
and has dishonored him with a new dishonor. This second dis-
honor calls forth a second wrath ; not yet has he risen above anger
into the realm of harmony. So he has learned much, but is now to
learn more still ; true to his character, he will march forth against
the foe, as he previously withdrew to his tent. Again, too, he
carries his just wrath against an external enemy into the realms
of wrong; he may kill Hector, but not maltreat his dead body;
thus he violates the ordinance of the Gods, at least of Zeus the
Highest, who is ultimately over both Greeks and Trojans. This
he is to see ; it is his second great insight and conquest of implaca-
ble wrath.

So we have the Second Reconciliation, not with the Greek, but
with the Trojan ; a deeper note seems touched therein than in
the First Reconciliation. Achilles must destroy the destroyer of
his friend and of his people ; then his honor is satisfied, and he is
again the supreme Hero when Hector is slain. He has now
reached the culmination of his fighting; he has brought Hector
to lie in death with Patroclus, the friend. Still he rages; it is,
however, an empty rage, being against a corpse, which can be no
longer a foe; it is a wrath without reason, like that continued
wrath after the Embassy, whereby honor turned to dishonor.
But he changes a second time within, and is placable towards the
foe; it is his highest harmony to place himself in accord with the
Gods, who decree the restoration of Hector's body. It is the last
and supreme deed of the Hero, a new self-conquest, wherewith the
Iliad ends.

But the war is not ended, nor can It end at such a point.
Achilles cannot take Troy ; the principle of the great conflict is
not his so much as his own heroic individuality. He can bring
matters to the highest point of heroism, he can destroy the heroic
man of the enemy, but those walls before him he cannot scale ;
the Trojan War, involving the principle of Orient against Occi-
dent, he cannot end. Such is the limit of the Hero. But that

xvn— 13

196 The Journal of SpeGulative Philosojpky.

Y. The characters of the Iliad constitute a living gallery ot
human beings, whose existence we never question, whose identity
we recognize as distinctly as that of our next neighbor. We may
say that the poem gives the first great lesson in characterization ;
it is not an abstraction, but a living deed — the whole of it, from
beginning to end. To image men afresh, not in outward shape,,
but in their inward soul, is a great idea, the greatest in Literature,
perhaps; it is a new creation of man to a degree, showing him
spiritually transparent to all eyes that can see. Such a feat per-
formed successfully makes the essence of a Literary Book, reveal-
ing the inner springs of human conduct as they break forth into
action. The idea of character in its true development seems to
have been given to us by Homer; from this Iliad we may build
a world, and fill it with typical men, such as must always be in
every phase of society. In this, as in other mentionable cases,
Literature has followed in the ancient Homeric path ; indeed, it
must remain in the same, to be at all.

The Poet has clearly the fundamental distinction into men of
thought and men of action; those best in the council, and those
best in the field. Indeed, according to his conception, the com-
plete man unites the two qualities, wisdom and the deed. lie has
thus seen and drawn that deepest line of the human soul between
Intelligence and Will, on one side or other of which all character
fluctuatcLi. In the Trojan as well as Greek camp we notice both
kinds of men, carefully classified ; the wise man is distinct from
the man of deeds, yet not wholly distinct ; each shares in the gift
of the other, though one trait predominates; Homer produces liv-
ing realities of men, not abstract phantasms.

Onr first question is, Can we find any common principle upon
which to string these characters so that we may behold the spirit-
ual bond which unites them? For some such unity we must
search, as being that which holds Trojans or Greeks together, and
makes a common cause possible. We shall find this fundamental
ground of character in the principle about which the two parties
collide, and for which they offer their lives. The conflict enters
every soul and forms the basis of its action. In each human breast
is a picture of the universal struggle, with fainter or intenser col-
ors ; the relation of the man to that struggle makes him what he
is in such trying periods.

Homer's '■'■IliadP I97

If we first turn to the Trojans we find them dividing upon the
restoration of Helen, the source of the war ; tlieir characters may
be ranged according to the ethical principle involved in that act.
We may select three typical persons. Hector may be called the
Greek in Troy ; he favors the return of Helen, and his character
corresponds to such a view. He is the domestic man first, true to
one wife, with the deepest instinct of the Family ; he appears as
father and husband in the most tender of human relations. Very
beautiful is this phase of Hector, winning for him all hearts; lie
clearly ranges himself on the side of the Greeks in regard to the
justice of their claim ; he is the ethical man in Troy. But his
country is assailed ; he, the Hero, must defend it, though he be-
lieves it to be in the wrong, and has the gloomiest forebodings for
its fate in consequence. Such is the dissonance in Hector ; still
he remains loyal, in every way noble, faithfully subordinating
family to country. Paris, on the other hand, is the Oriental man
in Troy, the favorite of Venus, the abductor of Helen; sensual,
unheroic, the man who cannot sacrifice his passion for the true
life either of the family or the country. He is thus made the con-
trast to his brother Hector. Priam, the ruler, father of the two
differentiated sons, is a sort of compromise between them; he will
not restore Helen, nor does he exactly refuse ; on the whole, his
leaning seems to be to the side of Paris. His domestic relation,
too, is a sort of barbarous compromise between East and West,
between polygamy and monogamy, with a tendency to the former.
He has a family, yet it borders upon a harem ; not based upon
violence, yet consistent with Oriental notions.

Troy has not the internal Greek problem which springs from
the Heroic Individual, nor could it well have, with its face turned
towards the East. In the person of Hector, both hero and au-
thority are combined, which fact gives him his prominence in
the poem, since he does more fighting than Achilles. Still, he is
not its hero by any means, as some have said ; he has not the
grand problem of Acliilles which makes the poem. The Heroic
Individual must be seen wrestling with authority, the outcome
of such a struggle must be shown for both sides, then the poem
means something for the Greek, for the world. Hector has no
such difficulty, because he has no such towering strength in him,
no sucii unbending heart of oak; his pattern is evidently too

198 Tlie Journal of Speculative Philosophy.

small for such a conflict. In comparison, he is a sweet, amiable
man whom we admire, and we regret that inner dissonance
which comes from having to defend a country whose cause he
believes to be wrong.

We may now glance at the Greek characters ; in like manner
we shall find them dividing upon the line of their essential prin-
ciple : heroship in conflict with authority. Such is the internal
problem for all the Greeks, not for the one merely, being ingrown
into their whole spiritual existence. For upon the Trojan prob-
lem, the restoration of Helen, they are a unit; just that is the
object of their expedition against Troy, and is the unquestioned
ground of their character. Hence domestic life does not need to
appear in the Greek camp, being wholly presupposed by the
purpose of the enterprise. Even the captive woman Briseis is to
be elevated into an ethical life in the familj^ by the Greek Hero
who captured her, thus showing the destiny of the captive
woman also is to become the wife. We have already spoken
sufficiently of Achilles, as one side of this inner Greek conflict.
Ajax and Diomed seem to have his possibilities of character;,
they are the heroes next to him, great warriors, men of action,
with strong individualities. They still cling to authority, though
we see that they too might fall off; the germ of tlie same trouble
is in them. On the other hand, the wise men of the Greeks,
Ulysses and Nestor, stand by Agamemnon, the leader, without
faltering, though they reprove his rash act ; he must be sustained
against the Hero, for the sake of the all-governing principle at
stake in the war ; such is the true mark of wisdom : if they must
choose, they prefer the victory of their cause to the honor of the
individual.

Such are the main lines of distinction among the men on both
sides ; but the poem has a very strong feminine element, which
must also be considered. Troy alone can have female characters
of any signiiicance ; in it they can be at home, and in it is their
problem. Troy retains Helen, and thus disrupts domestic life, the
deepest principle of woman ; just this is the conflict, or one phase
of it, between Trojans and Greeks, for the latter are seeking her
restoration, while the former are divided upon the matter. Three
female characters will be found in the city who express the
various shades of the domestic relation of woman as it plays into

Homer's ''Iliad:' I9i)

the great conflict between East and West. Andromache, spouse
of Hector, corresponds to her husband ; she is the Greek wife in
Troy — the faithful, devoted Greek wife ; she is quite absorbed in
her family ties ; country lies beyond her vision, llecuba is the
Oriental wife and mother, or indicates that tendency ; certainly
she seems in no protest with her polygamous household. The
favorite wife of the harem, perhaps the only one in the old age
of Priam, we may see in her a hint of what the Trojan "War
meant for the redemption of woman as well as of man. Thirdly,
there is Helen, the alienated Greek wife, most interesting of all
of her sex; deeply fallen, but now 'repentant, full of self-reproach,
longing to return out of her Trojan condition to her Greek do-
mestic lite. This longrino- of their most beautiful woman the
Greeks must make real, such is their greatest enterprise; indeed,
with a little deeper glance, we can see it to be their wdiole destiny',
the grand sum of their spiritual endeavor. In Troy we behold
her now, in a state of scission, inner and outer ; separated physi-
cally and morally from her own, yet sighing for restoration. It
has been seen how she represents tiie entire struggle ; the grand
external war between Greek and Trojan is a war within her,
burnt into her very soul, tearing her life into bleeding shreds.
Yet her strongest aspiration is, to be redeemed from her fallen
lot, which redemption the Greeks must accomplish, for it is just
that which makes them Greeks.

VI. But there must be not merely the return of the woman, but
also of the man, from Troy and from the Trojan alienation. This
brings us to the last grand scission of our Homeric theme, the scis-
sion into two poems, the Iliad and the Odysseij. There are, then,
two books upon the Trojan occurrence ; this dual fact and its im-
port are to be noted and studied. Troy is not taken at the end
of the Iliad, which sings of the wrath of the Hero ; the wrong
which caused the war remains; Helen is not restored, though her
restoration is everywhere implied. In the second poem, the Odys-
sey, she appears in her old Spartan home, the reinstated wife and
queen. But her life and return cannot be made the theme of this
seco