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SCIENCE, 


Philosophy  and  Religion. 


LECTURES 


DELIVERED    EEFORE    THE 


LOWELL  INSTITUTE,  BOSTON. 


JOHN  BASCOM, 

Prof,  in  Williams  College,  Author  of  the  "Principles  of  Psychology 

".^Esthetics,"  etc. 


NEW  YORK 

G.  P.  PUTNAM  &  SONS,  PUBLISHERS, 

association  buildings,  twenty-third  street. 

IS72. 


/9  L*~  (> 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1871,  by 

JOHN   BASCOM, 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington. 


stereotyped  bv 
Dennis  Bro's  &  Thorne, 

AUBURN,   N.  ^ 


PREFACE, 


These  lectures,  though  in  part  an  extension  of 
principles  already  presented  by  us  to  the  public,  we 
have  thought  it  well  to  publish,  both  as  developing 
the  central  doctrines  of  our  intellectual  constitution  in 
new  directions,  and  as  more  firmly  establishing  them 
in  old  ones.  It  may  not  be  unserviceable  to  the  hasty 
critic,  nor  unwelcome  to  the  patient  reader,  to  indi- 
cate at  once  the  points  in  this  discussion  most  im- 
portant. We  start  with  philosophy,  seeking  in  the 
mind  itself  those  ideas  by  means  of  which  it  groups 
and  explains  the  facts  of  the  physical  and  the  spiritual 
world.  The  close  of  the  second  lecture  presents  a 
tabular  arrangement  of  primitive  notions,  which  con- 
tains the  key  of  the  method  adopted.  This  presenta- 
tion contains  new  features ;  and,  if  at  the  same  time  it 
be  just,  the  fields  of  science,  philosophy  and  religion 
are  at  once  defined  by  it,  and  the  grounds  of  contro- 
versy greatly  narrowed.  Science  and  philosophy, 
starting  with  certain  common  ideas,  take  up  each  of 


iV  PREFACE. 

them  distinguishing  notions,  and,  moving  along  inde- 
pendent lines  of  inquiry,  meet  again  in  religion. 

The  plan  of  the  lectures  and  their  merit,  whatever 
this  may  be,  centre  here,  and  are  commended  to  un- 
sparing, yet  fair  and  searching,  criticism.  If  these 
lectures  shall  serve,  even  by  a  little,  to  deepen  our 
impression  of  our  powers,  and  our  sense  of  hope  in 
their  handling,  a  chief  object  will  be  reached.  We 
believe  in  the  unspeakable  elevation  of  our  spiritual 
nature,  and  are  willing  often  to  shift  the  view,  if  so  be, 
through  clouds  and  mists,  we  may  catch  some  more 
distinct  prospect  of  those  heights  on  which  it  is  our 
earliest  and  latest  effort  to  plant  the  feet  of  men. 


CONTENTS, 


LECTURE  I. 

MIND,    THE   SEAT   AND   SOURCE   OF    KNOWLEDGE. 

The  mind  first  in  value ;  all  power  flows  from  it. — Some  form  of  Philosophy 
and  Religion  inevitable  ;  Comte. — An  unsound  Faith  can  be  excluded 
only  by  a  sound  one  ;  Huxley  ;  Hume. — We  are  put  by  Philosophy  in  the 
true  line  of  progress. — Dependence  of  the  Present  on  the  Past ;  if  we  reject 
the  last  we  lose  the  first. — The  exclusively  scientific  spirit  restricts  and 
thus  debases  Thought. — Mark  out  the  directions  of  Inquiry. — The  Mind 
central  between  the  Physical  and  Spiritual  realms ;  study  each  from  this 
point ;  thus  reach  Science,  Philosophy,  and  Religion 5 

LECTURE  II. 

PRIMITIVE   IDEAS. 

Conflicts  of  Philosophy  concerning  Intuitive  Ideas.—  Why?— What  meant  by 
them. — An  issue  found  in  them  with  Materialism. — A  supposition. — Offices 
performed  by  these  Ideas  ;  preliminary  to  Classification. — No  antecedent 
improbability  against  them. — Physical  Inquirers  use  them. — Cause  and 
Effect. — Force;  the  part  it  plays  in  Science. — Suicidal  for  Materialism  to 
deny  the  notion  of  Cause  ;  yet  cannot  reach  it  by  Generalization. — Gener- 
alization must  rest  on  direct  Knowledge.— First,  these  ideas  yielded  by 
careful  Analysis  ;  Second,  the  Mind  begins  its  action  by  means  of  them ; 
Third,  proof  found  in  the  conclusions  yielded  by  them ;  Fourth,  in  the 
light  and  order  they  bring.  —Enumeration 27 


LECTURE  III. 

THE   FIELD   OF   PHYSICAL   FACTS. 

Space  the  field,  Causation  the  law  of  Physical  Facts ;  Existence ;  Number ; 
Resemblance. — Space,  the  condition  of  Physical  Events  ;  distinction  be- 
tween these  and  Spiritual  Events. — Space,  its  connection  with  Mathematics. 
— Primitive  powers  of  the  mind  here  shown..  —  Causation  ;  Character  ; 
Fundamental  axiom. — Applicable  to  Physical  Facts  alone.— Knowledge 
dependent  on  it. — Of  Existence. — Of  Comprehension. — Of  Perpetuity. — Its 
Proof;  Hume;  Mill. — Philosophy  errs  how;  Dependence  of  Science  on 
Philosophy.— Materialism.— Powers  of  the  Mind 55 


2  CONTENTS. 

LECTURE  IV. 

RESEMBLANCE  NOT   THE  SOLE  CONNECTION   Cw   THOUGHT. 

Resemblance  substituted  for  Causation. — Antecedent  difficulties :  First,  this 
notion  also  Primitive  ;  Second,  does  not  give  Explanation. — This  res- 
olution of  all  Judgments  into  Resemblance  maintained  by  Hamilton  ;  by 
Spencer. — The  significance  of  this  view. — Ethics. — Religion. — How  this 
resolution  possible. — More  exact  Analysis. — Idea  of  time  as  an  illustration. 
Each  idea  gives  original  Judgments. — Resemblance  to  displace  Causation  ; 
this  impossible.  —  Why  ? —  Botany.  —  Zoology. —  Physics.  —  Chemistry.  — 
The  Mind  takes  no  pleasure  in  Resemblances  except  as  they  point  to  Causes. 
— All  knowledge  of  Physical  Events  implies  Causes. — Nature,  middle  ground 
between  us  and  God. —  Gives  conditions  of  action. —  A  middle  term  of 
Thought. — Final  Causes. — Miracles. — Liberty. — Causation  must  be  granted 
by  the  Materialist  as  a  ground  of  attack  on  Freedom. — Summation 79 

LECTURE  V. 

MATTER  ;    ITS   EXISTENCE   AND    NATURE. 

Matter  is  the  seat  of  forces. — Dependent  for  a  belief  in  its  existence  on  the  Idea 
of  Cause. — How  reached  in  Perception. — Hamilton. — Examination  of  the 
several  Senses. — Anomalies  of  Vision. — Movement  in  the  organs  of  Sense. 
— Substitution  of  Senses. — Delirium. — The  character  of  Consciousness. — 
Idealism  the  logical  issue  of  the  doctrine  of  direct  perception. — What  is 
Matter? — Force. —  The  imagination;  its  embarrassments. —  What  do  we 
know  of  Matter  ? — Effects  :  these  precisely  express  Causes  ;  are  their  final 
definition. — We  must  admit  the  being  of  those  Forces  or  Causes. — Many 
Forces,  not  one  Force. — Correllation  of  Forces. — No  absolute  oneness  of 
Causes. — Force  of  gravity. — Relation  of  this  view  of  Matter  to  the  being  of 
God. — Force  suggests  a  personal  Agent. — Two  theories. — Second  Causes. 
— Direct  agency. — Advantages  of  the  last 104 

LECTURE  VI. 

CONSCIOUSNESS,    THE   FIELD   OF  MENTAL   FACTS. 

Where  are  the  facts  of  Mind  to  be  found  ? — Various  answers  ;  Mill ;  Maudsley ; 
True  answer ;  ends  of  inquiry. — Impossible  to  reach  facts  of  Mind  other- 
wise than  through  Consciousness. — Phrenologists. — These  facts  separate 
from  all  others. — Lewes,  What  is  in  Consciousness  ? — Hamilton,  What  are 
Mental  Phenomena  ? — No  fact  to  be  understood  in  its  mental  bearings  save 
in  the  Mind. — The  two  kinds  of  facts  perfectly  distinct;  Reason  of  this. — 
Space  and  Consciousness,  two  ideas  each  with  its  own  facts  ;  time  covers 
both. — What  is  Consciousness  ? — Prof.  Porter. — Consequences  of  regarding 
it  as  a  regulative  Idea. — What  the  test  of  the  validity  of  mental  facts? — 
Spencer. — A  mental  power  shown  by  a  fixed  result. — Such  powers  of  equal 
authority. — Mind  reposes  on  itself. 130 


CONTENTS.  3 

LECTURE  VII. 

RIGHT,    THE   LAW  OF  INTELLECTUAL   LIFE. 

What  the  law  of  Mental  Facts. — On  the  perceptive,  on  the  executive  side. — 
Right,  Liberty. — The  first,  the  Facts  to  be  explained. — Central  Fact  of 
Moral  Nature  is  perception  of  Right. — Two  sides,  perceptive,  emotional, 
indissoluble. — Utilitarianism  fails  partially  on  the  perceptive  side,  wholly 
on  the  emotional  side. — Vacillation  by  Utilitarians. — (i)  Obligation  due  to 
Happiness  ;  (2)  to  Society  ;  (3)  to  Blessedness. — The  intuitive  view,  (1)  Ob- 
jection, favors  Dogmatism  ;  Bentham. — Grounds  of  Tightness  in  action. — (2) 
Objection,  Hopeless  variety  of  opinions,  allows  no  growth ;  Martineau. 
— (3  )  Objection,  An  ultimate  good  not  rational ;  Dr.  Hopkins;  Bentham. — 
To  perform  an  act  as  right  merely,  not  rational ;  Answer. — The  action  is 
right  because  of  its  consequences  ;  Answer. — Relations  of  an  intuitive  right 
(1)  ot  Happiness. — Why  reached  by  the  right. — A  test  of  the  right, — (2)  to 
Daily  Conduct. — A  Supreme  good,  is  there  any? — This  view  comes  back  to 
a  law.— Why  not  practically  safe  in  pursuing  highest  happiness, — (3)  to  the 
Intellect, — (4)  to  God, — Dr.  Hopkins, — (5)  to  Immortality 153 

LECTURE  VIII. 

LIEERTY. 

Resume. — Notion  of  Cause  contrasted  with  Liberty. — Mind  spontaneous. — 
Sensations,  Thoughts  ;  dependence  on  each  other  of  mental  acts. — A  force 
variable  within  itself  a  spontaneous  one. — Liberty  more  than  spontaneity. — 
Liberty,  what. — Proof,  not  in  Consciousness. — Mind  offers  the  Idea  in 
explanation  of  certain  facts. — (1)  General  conviction. — (2)  Responsibility; 
Guilt ;  If  the  doctrine  of  the  necessitarian  were  true  it  would  prevail  at  once. 
— (3)  Nature  of  motives  ;  Connection  between  objects  and  the  desires  awa- 
kened ;  Between  these  and  volition ;  Need  of  an  alternative  ;  If  none, 
then  no  liberty ;  Our  moral  nature  furnishes  it. — (4)  Inadequacy  of  other 
theories;  Bain,  Mill,  make  responsibility  equal  punishability. — (1)  Objection 
to  the  theory  now  presented,  Liberty  equals  Fortuity ;  Answer. — The 
spontaneity  denied  to  Mind  granted  to  Matter. — (2)  Objection,  Liberty  gives 
no  weight  to  Motives. — In  what  sense  true  ;  Mill. — (3)  Objection,  Interferes 
with  foreknowledge. — God  equal  to  his  work 185 

LECTURE  IX. 

life;  nature  and  origin. — the  mind. 
The  True,  the  Beautiful  and  the  Good,  rest  on  spontaneity. — Nature  and  source 
of  Mental  Life. — Life  ;  Spencer's  definition  ;  Its  difficulties  ;  Definition. 
— Man  ;  Amoeba. — Three  questions,  Why  a  life-power?  Whence  the  life  of 
the  globe  ?  If  a  life-power,  its  Nature  ? — The  first  question,  Spontaneous 
generation  ;  Huxley. — Protoplasm. — What  the  life-power  introduced  to  ex- 
plain ;  its  use  of  molecular  forces. — Life  is  the  architect;  Odling ;  Bush- 
nell. — Second  question:  Darwin's  line  of  argument;  its  difficulties;  if 
accepted,  how  stands  the  question. — Natural  selection. — Variation. — Vital 
force  conditioned  to  orderly  change. — Small  increments  mark  new  forces 
— Theory  of  development ;  Spencer. — Third  question  :  Life  a  super-phys- 
ical power  ;  Reasons. — Mind  super-added  to  life,  belongs  to  man  alone  as  a 
thinking  power  ;  Proof. — Life  and  Mind  in  interaction 209 


4  CONTENTS. 

LECTURE  X. 

INTERACTION   OF   PHYSICAL  FORCES   AND  SPIRITUAL    FORCES. 

Resume. — Force  easily  referable  to  God. — Life  more  so. — (i)  Two  forms  of 
Phenomena,  each  to  be  inquired  into  under  its  own  Ideas  ;  Fortuity ; 
Fatality  ;  Conflict  of  tendencies.—  Miracles  ;  Antipathy  to.  —Science  ; 
Evasion  of  the  point.— Their  harmony  with  Mental  Facts. — How  find  en- 
trance.—Office  ;  Dangers  of.—  Prayer  ;  Unbelief  in  ;  Evasion  ;  How  an- 
swered ;  Rationality  of ;  What  may  be  asked  for ;  Addressed  to  Faith ; 
Derision  of.— Influences  of  the  Spirit— The  position  taken  decidedly  right  or 
decidedly  wrong  ;  Appeal  whither ;  Reason  of. — The  attitude  of  the  Sciolist. 
—Metaphysics.— Here  lies  the  last  Appeal.— If  not  able  to  follow  it  here, 
we  are  to  wait  on  general  conviction 238 

LECTURE  XI. 

PRIMITIVE   RELIGIOUS   CONCEPTIONS. 

God  at  first  thought  to  start  with  matter;  Later,  the  nature  of  matter  better 
understood;  Seat  of  thought ;  involves  of  all.— Old  ground  lost  of  belief ; 
Infidelity. — Life,  a  point  of  new  interest ;  True  defence ;  the  conditioned 
involves  the  Unconditioned. — First  Cause  ;  why  faulty  in  language  and  in 
thought. — An  Infinite  Person  demanded  as  source  of  all. — Notion  of  the  In- 
finite; Mansel;  Spencer;  Inconceivable. — Infinite  in  connection  with  space  ; 
Infinite  and  indefinite  ;  Definiteness  of  the  conception  as  regards  space, 
as  regards  time  ;  Application  to  power,  to  knowledge.— Notion  not  illusory. 
— Two  fields  of  knowledge. — Conceive  God  most  correctly  when. — Omni- 
presence.—Mind  related  to  space  by  the  body.— Space,  what.— Time,  what. 
— Worth  of  the  conceptions  offered  ;  Martineau  ;  Max  Miiller 262 

LECTURE  XII. 

CLASSIFICATION   OF  KNOWLEDGE  ;    FORM  OF   DEVELOPMENT. 

Philosophy  central ;  Gives  the  limits  of  science  ;  Defines  its  own  limits.— Depart- 
ment of  pure  ideas. — Science,  what ;  Tabular  view  of  sciences. — Relation  of 
Philosophy  to  religion ;  Religion  rests  on  reason,  on  the  moral  sense. — 
Order  of  intellectual  growth,  reason ;  the  individual,  the  nation,  nations. 
Early  predominance  of  the  personal  element ;  Later,  influence  of  material 
forces. — The  order  enforced  by  Positive  Philosophy ;  Spencer,  Buckle. — 
All  connections  those  of  the  mind. — Appeal  always  lies  to  Philosophy. — 
Two  protections  against  the  error  of  a  wrong  theory. — Men  illogical  in 
deduction,  fail  to  understand  what  they  believe ;  Time  develops  the  good 
and  the  evil  of  a  system. — Spencer's  Principles  of  Psychology. — Hume  and 
miracles. — Mind  misled  by  familiarity,  by  concentration  on  particular  topics ; 
its  desire  for  unity  ;  the  most  rigid  system  least  likely  to  be  correct 288 


SCIENCE,   PHILOSOPHY 


AND 


RELIGION. 


LECTURE  I. 

DEFENCE    OF    PHILOSOPHY. 

The  theme  which  is  to  occupy  us  in  the  lectures 
before  us,  is — "  Mental  Philosophy  ;  its  Bearings  on 
Science  and  Religion."  We  thus  have  occasion  to 
direct  our  attention  to  ourselves,  the  nature,  form 
and  validity  of  our  knowledge  ;  what  hold  we  have 
on  the  invisible  world  within  us  ;  what  hold,  through 
this,  we  have  on  the  visible  world  about  us,  and  what, 
through  these  both,  on  the  future,  visible  and  invisi- 
ble, which  lies  before  us — that  future  without  which 
the  present  perishes,  as  the  flower  plucked  from  the 
stem,  leaving  no  seed  behind  it. 

This  theme  it  is  a  pleasure  to  meditate  upon,  and  a 
pleasure  to  present,  and,  though  I  know  how  strongly 
the  current  of  intellectual  life  is  setting  elsewhere, 
how  rapidly  and  gayly  the  shallops  that  float  on  other 
streams  speed  onward,  I  cannot  but  hope  that  it  shall 
not  be  barren  to  the  attentive  mind. 

Would  we  not  do  well  to  confess  to  a  certain  shame 
at  the  steadiness  with  which  every  one  peers  outward, 
as  if  the  pageant  of  the  exterior  world  had  dazed  us  ; 
as  if  the  long  and  gala  procession  of  nature  opened 


6  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

and  occupied  all  our  senses  in  dumb  astonishment, 
and  left  us,  like  some  country  rustic,  with  parted 
lips  and  bewildered  thought,  to  be  knocked  down  and 
run  over  by  some  cavalier  in  the  ongoing  throng  ? 
So  has  it  happened  to  many.  Philosophy,  the  self- 
respect,  composure  and  assurance  of  philosophy  have  t 
forsaken  them,  and,  venturing  into  the  throng,  some 
bullying  law  of  development,  some  sanguine,  sanguin- 
ary theory  of  physics  has  tripped  them,  and  quickly 
they  have  found  themselves  regarded  as  little  higher 
than  monkeys,  and  treated  no  better.  We  believe 
in  the  principle  that  life  is  more  than  meat,  the  mind 
more,  at  least  to  itself,  than  all  that  the  mind  contem- 
plates, and  offer  it  as  a  first  reason  why  we  should 
pursue  with  patience  the  line  of  thought  before  us. 
Stars  and  nebulae,  atoms  and  molecules,  are  good 
things  not  to  be  objected  to,  but  they  are  so,  chiefly 
because  they  interest  the  mind,  provoke  and  reward 
its  inquiries,  and  are  thus  to  it  means  of  strength. 
Food  is  nothing  save  through  the  palate  which  ap- 
preciates it  ;  knowledge  is  nothing  save  through  the 
appetite  of  the  mind  that  knows  it,  and  the  knowing 
power  is  thus  the  centre  at  which  converge  all  lines 
of  thought.  It  is  worth  our  while  to  pursue  butter- 
flies, entrap  moths,  pin  beetles,  but  chiefly  worth  our 
while  because  each  and  all  of  them  are  fragments 
of  the  divine  thought  wherewith  we  feed  our  own 
thought,  and  ourselves  grow  in  the  divine  image  of 
knowledge  and  strength.  Nor  is  this  mental  feeding 
like  the  physical  feeding  of  the  brute,  that,  under  a 
few  instincts,  with  a  few  feelers,  goes  on  safely  by 
day  and  by  night,  finding  a  perfect  fulfillment  of 


DEFENCE    OF    PHILOSOPHY.  J 

every  end  in  its  own  blind  action.  Mental  life  is 
crystalline  and  transparent,  not  adhesive  and  opaque. 
There  is  in  it  an  interior  plan  known  to  itself,  an 
eye  that  ranges  through  its  own  products,  not  merely 
to  discover  their  order,  but  to  aid  in  its  establishment. 
If  any  deny  this,  they  equally  with  us  must  take  their 
appeal  to  the  mind  itself,  and  in  the  study  we  propose 
decide  the  points  of  difference.  Indeed,  we  are  will- 
ing, by  the  amplitude  of  what  we  claim,  to  provoke 
denial,  and  thus  initiate  inquiry  on  the  grounds  of 
philosophy.  Better  is  it  to  do  this  than  quietly  to 
build  the  defences  of  thought  on  headlands  deserted 
and  without  assailants,  all  the  world  beside  voyaging 
to  some  polar  sea  in  patient  pursuit  of  another  phys- 
ical fact.  Truly  it  is  not  to  our  credit,  it  cannot 
remain  to  our  credit,  that  we  should  wish  less  to 
know  what  we  ourselves  are,  and  what  are  the 
sources,  conditions,  issues  of  our  lives,  than  to  know 
how  the  world  was  rolled  up  into  an  opaque  ball  out 
of  the  undefined  nebulae,  covering,  in  the  dawn  of 
time,  the  unenclosed  fields  of  space  ;  or  how  life  ap- 
peared on,  and  spread  over  the  world,  how  it  strug- 
gled for  possession,  multiplied  similar  types,  shot  up 
into  higher  types,  and  became  like  a  forest,  pursuing 
the  light  with  its  growing  summits,  yet  hiding,  in 
every  inch  of  soil  below,  many  living  centres.  Why 
this  interest  in  the  way  out  of  myth  and  chaos,  if  we 
have  no  corresponding  interest  in  man  ;  in  every 
view  of  the  subject,  the  end  and  goal  of  progress  ? 
Why  not  stand  on  the  summit  and  look  down  from 
the  tower  of  our  spiritual  strength,  as  well  as  climb 
up  to  it  ?     It  is  thought,  mind,  reason,  is  it  not,  that 


8  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

lights  us  at  every  step  of  the  ascent,  and  may  it  not 
be  possible  that  the  mind  itself  may  be,  like  the  lan- 
tern of  curious  construction,  manifold  reflection  and 
changeable  light,  more  worthy  of  study  even  than  the 
structure  which  lifts  it — a  sentinel  of  unsafe  and  dreary 
seas  ?  If  it  is  a  pleasure  to  know,  is  not  that  pleasure 
most  complete  when  we  ourselves  are  the  objects 
of  knowledge  ?  If  knowledge  is  power,  is  not  that 
power  greatest  when  it  pertains  to  mind  ?  If  truth 
fills  the  soul  with  its  own  satisfaction,  is  not  that  sat- 
isfaction most  perfect  when  the  truths  that  confer  it 
pertain  to  the  highest  subjects  of  thought  ?  What- 
ever the  excellence  of  knowledge,  that  excellence 
cannot  fail  to  be  enhanced  by  being  attached  to  that 
central,  luminous  and  self-luminous,  conscious  and 
self-conscious  thing — the  human  soul. 

But  from  this  first  ground  of  interest — that  all  lines 
of  thought  converge  in  the  mind,  there  follows  a 
second — that  power  and  control,  flow  forth  from  it 
Even  when  it  suffers,  it  is  not  a  passive  recipient,  and 
when  it  acts,  it  is  the  image  and  the  sole  image  of  all 
spontaneous  and  free  movement.  You  are  pleased 
to  deny  this  spontaneity.  We  can  only  say,  let  us 
discuss  it,  and  see.  It  is  a  poor  thing  to  contemplate 
the  forces  that  flow  in  on  the  mind,  bowing  it  to  the 
physical  constitution  of  the  world,  to  the  influences 
that  find  expression  in  soil,  climate,  race  and  civiliza- 
tion, unless  we  also  consider  that  personal  power 
which  meets  them,  rises  above  them,  shapes  them, 
uses  them,  and,  by  slow  digestion,  incorporates  them 
into  its  own  structure.  Some  dark  paint  may  be 
dashed  at  once  in  quantity  upon  the  color  we  are 


DEFENCE    OF    PHILOSOPHY.  9 

mingling ;  all  seems  hopelessly  blackened  ;  yet  as 
we  proceed,  the  light  strikes  up  from  beneath,  in  the 
end  gets  the  mastery,  and  puts  its  own  cheerful  face 
upon  the  whole  affair.  So  physical  facts  rush  in  and 
spread  over  the  face  of  society  a  deluge  of  barbarism. 
Anon,  in  the  slow  mingling  of  centuries,  there  come 
up  from  beneath  the  germs  of  past  mental  power, 
and  a  new  civilization  is  the  product.  It  is  in  this 
out-going  power  of  mind  that  we  find  liberty,  duty, 
and  the  mastery  of  the  individual  and  the  race.  In 
these  we  all  practically  believe,  and  many  of  us  theo- 
retically. If  the  foundations  of  duty  are  here  ;  if 
what  we  may  do  and  what  we  ought  to  do  are  found 
here ;  if  the  questions,  what  we  are  to  require  of 
others,  and  the  fitness  of  what  we  suffer  in  ourselves, 
are  here  tested ;  if  hence  are  the  sources  and  laws 
of  the  practical  power  we  are  to  exercise  ;  if  the  lines 
of  rational  action,  which  are  momentarily  initiated, 
and  become  momentarily  more  and  more  unmanage- 
able in  the  good  and  evil  that  flow  from  them,  here 
originate,  then  truly  all  the  obligations  to  know,  that 
life  can  lay  upon  us  rest  primarily  here.  If  duties 
there  are  for  me  or  another,  then  it  becomes  a  duty 
to  know  these  duties.  If  power  there  is  for  evil  or 
good,  then  should  there  be  a  knowledge  of  this  power, 
that  it  may  be  used.  Since  our  activities,  more  to  us 
than  all  activities  beside,  go  forth  from  ourselves, 
their  limits  and  laws  should  be  sought  in  ourselves. 
But  activity  is  not  duty  alone  ;  it  is  joy  and  hope 
as  well.  Among  the  preeminent  characteristics  of 
man  is  this — that  the  future  is  as  much  and  even 
more  to  him  than  the  present.     It  is  only  the  spend- 


10  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

thrift  and  profligate,  that  mortgage  the  future  to  the 
present ;  the  philosopher  and  Christian  make  the  one 
the  seed-time  of  the  other,  and  accept  much  hard 
labor  now,  in  view  of  a  proportionate  harvest  here- 
after.    These  hopes,  this  gathering  up  of  the  aims  of 
life,  and  casting  them  far  ahead,  as  a  gauntlet  into 
the  midst  of  the  enemy,  are  a  further  and  urgent  rea- 
son for  the  inquiry  proposed.     No  mind,  earnest  and 
broad,  will  abide  in  the  momentary  joy  of  the  present. 
The  life  that  is  in  it  must  become  to  it  a  light  where- 
with to  forecast  the  road  to  be  travelled,  and  whether 
it  shall  be  a  faint,  nickering  flame,  crowding  back  by 
a  little  the  heavy  darkness,  casting  portentous  shad- 
ows, giving  a  weird,  uncertain  aspect  to  surrounding 
objects,  suggesting  rather  than  revealing  danger  ;   or 
a  searching  head-light,  gleaming  far  along  the  safe 
way,  must  depend  upon  the  nature  of  that  truth  that 
is  caught  up  in  reflection  by  the  soul,  and  thrown 
forward  on  its  path  to  immortality.     Who  can  be 
robbed  of  his  hopes,  and  who  can  define  them  and 
make  them  certain,  save  in  a  mastery  of  the  nature 
and  conditions  of  his  own  life  ?     And  who  can  find 
the  foundations  of  this  knowledge,  save  in  philosophy 
and  religion — religion  as  it  rests  back  on  philosophy, 
philosophy  as  it  opens  the  way  to  religion  ?     If  we 
are  to  enlarge  our  vision  at  all,  if  there  is  to  be  any 
daylight,  any  inheritance  for  us  in  the  years  to  come, 
the  grounds  of  our  convictions  are  to   be  found  in 
the  structure  of  the  soul,  and  God's  providential  min- 
istration to  it.     In  whatever  field  we  glean  knowl- 
edge, the  best  ministration  of  that  knowledge  must 
be  to  ourselves,  to  that  hidden  life  which  is  the  dis- 


DEFENCE    OF    PHILOSOPHY.  II 

tinctive  feature  of  man,  and  increasingly  so  as  he 
becomes  intelligent.  Indeed,  what  is  intelligence  but 
the  enlargement  of  the  life  within  us — an  imparting 
of  penetration  to  its  thoughts,  and  power  to  its  emo- 
tions. The  character  of  this  life,  the  home  of  the 
soul,  the  domestic  companionship  to  which  it  is  ever- 
retiring,  the  seat  of  true  spiritual  consumption,  at 
which  the  crude  material  of  good  the  external  world 
affords  is  turned  into  food  and  pleasure,  must  depend 
on  our  method  of  transmuting  knowledge  into  emo- 
tion, wisdom  into  serene  satisfaction  and  assured 
hope  ;  and  in  this  transformation  all  knowledge  be- 
comes philosophy  and  religion.  How  slight  a  thing 
is  it  to  know,  unless  we  know  also  the  transmutation 
of  knowledge  into  peace  and  joy  ;  unless  truth  is  to 
us  that  light  which  suffuses  the  clouds,  wooes  them 
out  of  the  region  of  night,  and  makes  them  the  beauty 
and  glory  of  the  day. 

We  are  here  introduced  to  another  class  of  reasons 
why  we  should  have  a  sound  philosophy — I  use  the 
word  as  equivalent  to  mental  philosophy — and  a 
sound  religion.  So  certain  are  men  ultimately  to 
come  home — home  to  themselves,  that  it  is  impossi- 
ble for  them  in  any  numbers  or  for  any  length  of 
time  to  be  destitute  of  these  estimates  of  the  mind 
itself,  and  of  its  relations  to  seen  and  unseen  things. 
I  care  not  how  vigorously  men  scoff  at  philosophy,  it 
is  only  to  make  way  for  some  form  of  philosophy. 
To  discard  metaphysics  is  the  child's  sport  of  whip- 
ping round  the  ring.  What  we  pursue  in  front,  pur- 
sues us  in  turn  in  the  rear.  Some  notion  of  what 
liberty  and  thought  are,  drives  the  physicist  on  as  he 


12  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

strives  to  overthrow  the  general  belief  concerning 
them.  No  intelligent  man  is  ever  without  at  least 
the  adumbration  of  a  system  of  metaphysics  and  on- 
tology with  their  religious  corollaries  ;  and  the  vigor 
with  which  he  rejects  ordinary  beliefs,  held  and  en- 
forced under  these  names,  only  shows  the  nature  of 
his  own  convictions,  and  how  much  in  earnest  he  is 
about  them.  If  not  Trinitarian,  then  Unitarian  ;  if 
not  Unitarian,  then  Deist ;  if  not  Deist,  then  Atheist 
or  Pantheist  ;  or  if  not  Christian,  then  Spiritualist  or 
Buddhist,  or  one  of  the  isms  that  come  in  to  occupy 
the  soul,  swept  of  its  first  faith.  Such  is  the  univer- 
sal law  of  thought — if  not  realism,  then  idealism  ;  if 
not  idealism,  then  materialism.  No  more  striking 
illustration  of  this  can  be  offered  than  that  furnished 
by  Comte,  the  founder  of  positive  philosophy.  He 
started  with  discarding  theology  and  metaphysics  as 
at  once  impracticable  and  effete.  He  put  in  their 
place  positive  knowledge — the  knowledge  of  observa- 
tion and  induction.  Could  he,  the  leader  of  a  school, 
drawing  many  eyes,  a  bold  pioneer  in  independent 
thought,  pledged  to  consistency  and  tenacity,  hold 
himself  firm  on  simple  denial,  stand  poised  on  nega- 
tions, falling  on  neither  hand  into  affirmative,  dog- 
matic belief  ?  When  the  momentum  of  pure  thought 
had  expended  itself,  and  the  soul  began  to  look  around 
for  something  to  embrace,  something  to  console  itself 
with,  that  great  intellect  was  put  to  the  strange,  the 
surprising  task  of  the  invention  of  a  religion.  Says 
Martineau :  "  Since  the  publication  of  the  books  of 
Exodus  and  Leviticus,  no  more  elaborate  system  of 
'religion'  has  appeared  than  M.  Comte's.     It  has  its 


DEFENCE    OF    PHILOSOPHY.  1 3 

cultus,  private  and  public  ;  its  organization  of  dogma  ; 
its  discipline,  penetrating  to  the  whole  of  life  ;  its 
altars,  its  temples,  its  symbolism,  its  prescribed  ges- 
tures and  times  ;  its  ratios  and  length  of  the  different 
parts  and  sorts  of  prayer  ;  its  rules  for  opening  or 
shutting  the  eyes  ;  its  ecclesiastical  courts  and  rules 
of  canonization ;  its  orders  of  priesthood  and  scale  of 
benefices  ;  its  adjustment  of  the  temporal  to  the  spir- 
itual power  ;  its  novitiate  and  consecration  ;  its  nine 
sacraments ;  its  angels,  its  last  judgment,  its  para- 
dise :  in  short,  all  imaginable  requisites  of  a  religion 
— except  a  God." 

Having  banished  the  Omnipotent  One  from  his  phil- 
osophy, he  proceeds  to  occupy  the  vacant  place  with 
an  invention  of  his  own.  This  new  being,  this  Grand- 
Eire,  born  of  Comte  in  definite  time  and  with  specific 
circumstances,  receives  from  him  this  philosophical 
description,  table  of  contents,  schedule  of  value — "  the 
'aggregate  of  co-operative  beings  endowed  with  ner- 
vous systems  of  three  centres  " — and  is  handed  over 
to  the  world  of  art  under  the  symbol  of  "  a  woman  of 
thirty  with  a  child  in  her  arms."  The  worship  has 
the  merit  of  being  in  harmony  with  its  object.  "  At 
your  altar  in  the  morning,  for  instance,  you  are  to 
adore  your  mother,  become  subjective  to  you,  and 
requiring  to  be  brought  before  your  secret  vision. 
To  help  the  effort  and  express  the  inwardness  of  the 
object,  you  must  shut  your  eyes.  This  done,  you 
first  set  up  the  place  on  which  the  figure  is  to  enter  ; 
next,  fix  her  intended  attitude  ;  thirdly,  choose  her 
dress  ;  and  then,  at  length,  permit  herself  to  glide  into 
view  ;  taking  care  to  idealize  by  subtraction  only,  not 


14  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

by  addition.  In  due  order  the  prayer  to  her  ensues, 
consisting  for  the  first  half  of  the  hour  in  '  commem- 
oration' of  her  goodness  ;  then  for  the  rest,  in  '  effu- 
sion '  of  the  feelings  thus  awakened."  This  "  effu- 
sion," in  most  cases,  would  probably  take  somewhat 
less  than  the  remaining  half  hour.  It  was  rather  of  - 
an  heroic  worship,  however,  as  this  morning  service 
was  to  be  followed  by  a  mid-day  devotion,  and  this  by 
an  evening  prayer.  Yet,  as  this  last  was  to  be  said 
in  bed,  it  would,  doubtless,  in  practice,  exhibit  great 
elasticity,  and  fit  in  between  sleeping  and  waking 
with  much  snugness  and  comfort.  "  The  public 
worship  only  applies  the  same  principle  to  a  wider 
circle  of  relations,  running  through  and  celebrating 
all  the  great  social  ties,  the  several  stages  of  human 
progress,  the  natural  classes  of  the  body-politic : 
and  forming  an  ecclesiastical  calendar,  with  special 
services  all  through  the  year.  The  temples  are  all  to. 
face  towards  the  metropolis  of  humanity — Paris,  of 
course ;  but  meanwhile  the  positivists  will  not  object 
to  use  the  churches  and  cathedrals  as  they  are,  and 
occupy  them  as  they  fall  into  disuse.  Even  the 
Madonnas  may  pass  well  enough,  with  altered  name, 
for  the  Goddess  of  Humanity.  But  instead  of  the 
cross  (or  of  the  crescent)  must  be  substituted,  as  sign 
of  the  faith,  the  curve  described  by  the  hand  in  touch- 
ing the  three  chief  cerebral  organs.  There  are  no 
elements  too  incongruous  to  blend  in  this  strange 
1  religion.'  The  dissecting-room,  the  high  altar,  the 
lover's  bower,  all  subscribe  their  proportion  to  its 
ceremonial  and  sentiment ;  not  without  an  ever-recur- 
ring preponderance  of  the  last,  significantly  expressed 


DEFENCE    OF    PHILOSOPHY.  1 5 

in  the  saying,  that  '  soon  the  knee  of  man  will  never 
bend  except  to  woman.' " 

If  anything   is    at    once   absurd,  pitiful,    strange, 
instructive,  it  is  this  prince  in  the  school  of  modern, 
materialistic  thought,  whose  intellectual  radiance  is 
spread  through  a  larger  circle  by  Englishmen — men 
and  women,  first  commanding  attention,  astonishment 
and  admiration  by  the  peremptory,  positive  way  in 
which  he  turns  his  back  on  the  Christian  system,  and 
then  providing  for  his  bewildered  disciples,  the  above 
private  theatricals,  in  which  the  farce  so  outweighs 
the   tragedy  as  to  make   gravity  impossible.      Yet 
here  is  instruction.     Who  will  say  what  tricks  and 
fooleries  are  not  possible  to  man  in  the  night-time. 
Forsaking  the  sober  light  of  day,  a  weird,  fantastic, 
extravagant  spirit  takes  possession  of  him,  and  the 
sense  of  liberty  passes  into  the  intoxication  of  revelry. 
A  wonderful  Nemesis  overtakes  the  irreverent,  pro- 
fane mind  ;  it  plays  loosely  and  wildly,  and  at  length, 
like  one  who,  on  the  face  of  a  precipice,  has  exhausted 
his  strength  in  climbing  and  failed  of  the  top,  it  falls 
forever,  overpowered  and  spent  by  its  own  activities. 
The  inquiry  of  Eliphaz  becomes  pertinent :  "  Should 
a  wise  man  utter  vain  knowledge,  and  fill  his  belly 
with  the  east  wind  ? "     Thus  also  Buddha,  rejecting 
the  conception  of  God,  was  himself  exalted  to  the 
vacant  throne  by  his  later  disciples. 

A  plain  and  pressing  reason  for  a  sound  philosophy 
is  found  in  the  fact  that  we  can  only  thus  exclude  an 
unsound  one.  Scepticism  itself  is  a  philosophy,  and 
if  not  a  religion,  at  least  a  solution  of  religious  ques- 
tions, a  prolific  scource  of  belief  and  conduct.     There 


1 6  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

is  no  escape  from  opinions,  inferences,  actions,  save 
in  sterility.  Deserts  alone  are  free  from  vegetation. 
The  fertile  field  is  occupied  ;  if  not  by  this,  then  by 
that ;  if  not  by  seemly,  then  by  unseemly  growth. 
We  can  hide  ourselves  from  the  search  of  thought  in 
bestiality  alone ;  nor  here  completely,  for  man  has 
never  yet  sunk  so  low  but  that  religion  has  perco- 
lated down  to  him,  petrified  upon  him  ;  has  never 
hidden  himself  so  close  in  animalities  but  that  some 
pinching  witchcraft,  some  biting  superstition,  some 
stinging  fear  has  found  him  out,  and  robbed  him  of 
repose.  As,  then,  there  is  no  alternative,  and  philos- 
ophy we  must  have,  let  us  have  a  sober  and  sound 
one ;  let  us  face  questions  we  cannot  escape,  and 
struggle  at  the  solution  of  problems  that  inlock  our 
own  lives.  The  confession  of  Huxley,  in  his  lecture, 
"  On  the  Basis  of  Physical  Life,"  that  he  escapes  the 
materialism  of  his  own  views  only  through  the  scep- 
ticism, the  nihilism  of  Hume,  is  sad  and  pitiful. 
Having  built  up  with  much  pleasure,  patience  and 
ingenuity  his  system,  and  retiring  a  little  to  look  at 
it,  it  assumes,  like  some  demoniac  deity,  such  a  dire 
and  threatening  aspect  toward  man  and  mankind 
that  the  philosopher  is  compelled  to  say,  and  to  find 
relief  in  saying  :  "  After  all,  what  do  we  know  of  this 
terrible  '  matter,'  except  as  a  name  for  the  unknown 
and  hypothetical  cause  of  states  of  our  own  conscious- 
ness ?  And  what  do  we  know  of  that  '  spirit '  over 
whose  threatened  extinction  by  matter  a  great  lamen- 
tation is  arising,  like  that  which  was  heard  at  the 
death  of  Pan,  except  that  it  is  also  a  name  for  an  un- 
known and  hypothetical  cause,  or  condition,  of  states 


DEFENCE   OF    PHILOSOPHY.  \J 

of  consciousness  ?  In  other  words,  matter  and  spirit 
are  but  names  for  the  imaginary  substrata  of  groups 
of  natural  phenomena.  And  what  is  the  dire  neces- 
sity and  '  iron  '  law  under  which  men  groan  ?  Truly, 
most  gratuitously  invented  bugbears."  Thus  he 
builds  his  image,  trembles  before  it,  and  strikes  it  to 
the  dust  again  that  he  may  fear  it  no  longer.  What 
we  seem  to  know  has  so  bad  a  look  that  he  makes 
haste  to  remind  us  that  after  all  we  know  nothing 
certainly.  Like  his  master  in  philosophy,  he  seems 
to  care  little  what  becomes  of  his  own  work,  if  he  can 
escape  by  its  demolition  the  entire  truth  that  called 
it  into  existence.  He  gives  echo  to  these  words  of 
Hume  :  "  If  we  take  in  hand  any  volume  of  Divinity, 
or  school  metaphysics,  for  instance,  let  us  ask,  Does 
it  contain  any  abstract  reasoning  concerning  quantity 
or  number  ?  No.  Does  it  contain  any  experimental 
reasoning  concerning  matter-of-fact  and  existence  ? 
No.  Commit  it  then  to  the  flames  ;  for  it  can  con- 
tain nothing  but  sophistry  and  illusion."  How  large 
a  portion  of  Hume's  own  labors  would  be  swept,  under 
this  rule,  into  the  flames  !  Those  certainly  on  which 
the  larger  share  of  his  fame  rests.  We  have  often 
taken  pleasure  in  acknowledging  the  great  sharpness 
and  logical  force  of  Hume  as  a  metaphysician,  but  in 
this  instance  he  seems  to  have  felt  the  blind  heat  of 
that  second  Erigena  who,  in  his  eagerness  to  strike 
a  toad  with  the  snath  of  his  scythe,  forgot  that  the 
blade  encircled  his  own  neck,  and,  with  one  concen- 
trate, irate,  successful  blow,  made  an  end  of  his  ad- 
versary, and  sent  his  own  head  rolling  in  the  dust. 
How  much  of  the  liberty,  the  courage,  the  physical 


1 8  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

good  even,  of  the  race  has  been  due  to  this  discarded 
line  of  thought,  this  philosophic  and  religious  thought, 
which  braces  the  mind  to  faith  and  heroism ! 

A  second  like  reason  for  metaphysical  inquiry  is, 
that  we  thus  put  ourselves  in  the  true  line  of  progress. 
We  unite  the  past  to  the  present,  and  without  retain- 
ing all,  or  rejecting  all  of  its  inquiries,  complement 
and  complete  them  by  our  own.  There  is  an  assump- 
tion in  the  physicists  of  the  present  day  truly  as- 
tonishing ;  or  rather,  in  that  portion  of  them  who 
represent  the  extreme  tendencies  of  physical  inquiry. 
They  are  disposed  to  set  aside,  in  the  most  unhesita- 
ting and  contemptuous  way,  all  methods  not  identical 
with  their  own  ;  all  conclusions  whose  premises  and 
proofs  lie  out  of  their  own  field.  Of  this  class,  in  dif- 
ferent degrees,  are  Draper,  Maudsley,  Huxley,  Buckle, 
Spencer,  Biichner.  The  temper  of  this  school  of 
physical  investigation  is  not  so  much  that  wisdom  is 
to  die  with  them,  as  that  wisdom  has  been  born  with 
them  ;  that  inquiry  hitherto  has  come  to  nothing ; 
that  the  roots  of  true  knowledge  strike  into  the  past 
but  one,  two,  or  at  the  most  three  centuries  deep ; 
that  science  is  new — new  in  direction,  new  in  method 
and  in  spirit ;  antagonistic  to  the  past,  aggressive  in 
the  present,  and  ready  to  clutch,  with  a  conquering 
hand,  the  future.  Now  what  are  the  antecedent 
probabilities  of  the  correctness  of  such  an  attitude  ? 
if  these  so  self-assured  spirits  will  allow  us  even  to 
inquire  into  the  general  bearings  of  their  claims 
before  we  make  an  unconditional  surrender.  If  the 
mind  of  man  has  been  absolutely  and  totally  wrong 
up  to  a  given  moment,  mistaking  the  proper  subjects, 


DEFENCE    OF    PHILOSOPHY.  IO, 

the  proper  methods,  the  proper  points  of  inquiry ;  if 
it  has  congratulated  itself  on  absurd  conclusions,  and 
delighted  itself  with  pure  chimeras  ;  if  it  has  been  in 
a  dream,  and  seen  things  without  substantial  form  or 
dependence  ;  if  it  has  tickled  its  thoughts  with  con- 
jectures, and  built  its  faith  on  figments  ;  what  is  the 
prospect  that  this  same  mind,  so  surprisingly  acute 
and  subtle,  yet  so  perfectly  self-deceived,  has  now,  at 
once,  as  it  were,  waked  up,  hit  on  exactly  the  right 
theory,  and  caught  truth  in  a  trice,  before  she  had 
time  to  say,  With  my  permission  ?  If  a  man  never 
has  told  the  truth,  the  fact  is  a  narrow  ground  of 
faith  that  he  is  now  speaking  it.  If  the  world  has 
been  all  wrong  and  everywhere  wrong,  it  would  seem 
at  least  very  problematical  whether,  in  its  latest  ten- 
dency, it  is  perfectly  right.  It  is  a  poor  preparation 
for  the  growth  of  a  tree  to  cut  its  roots  just  below  the 
soil.  If  the  milleniums  past  have  done  nothing  for 
the  world,  it  is  probable  that  the  years  now  passing 
are  but  another  state  and  stage  of  dreaming,  and  that 
the  vision  before  us  has  no  other,  no  superior  ground 
of  belief,  but  rests  on  the  mere  fact  that  it  is  the  last 
image  on  the  screen  of  fancy.  If  it  is  not  safe  to 
suppose  the  great  minds  of  the  past  all  right,  it  is 
not  more  so  to  think  them  all  wrong,  hopelessly  and 
extravagantly  wrong.  Such  a  supposition  cuts  the 
rational  life  of  the  race  midway,  and  leaves  each  moi- 
ety to  wriggle  in  imbecility.  We  are,  because  they 
were,  and  what  we  are  we  owe,  no  less  in  spiritual 
and  intellectual  than  in  physical  descent,  to  them. 
That  view  has,  beyond  all  doubt,  probability  with  it, 
which  gathers  the  past  into  the  present  by  sequence 


20  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

and  growth,  not  by  rejection  simply ;  that  contem- 
plates with  as  much  certainty  and  pleasure  the 
strengthening  cords  of  truth,  gathering  fibre  after 
fibre  of  thought,  and  incorporating  into  themselves 
all  historic,  vigorous  movements,  as  those  with  which 
it  beholds  the  life  of  the  world  and  its  physical  events, 
pouring  down  upqn^us  from  years  beyond  our  human 
horizon.  This  obliteration  of  the  past  in  human 
history ;  this  beginning  with  1900,  or  1600  even, 
this  contemptuous  arrogance  begotten  of  new  ideas, 
simply  shows  that  the  mind  is  not  yet  familiar  with 
its  acquisitions,  and  that  these,  like  new  garments, 
cannot  quietly  subserve  the  purposes  of  service  till 
they  have  met  those- of  display.  Philosophy  and  re- 
ligion are  as  old  as  the  world,  and  we  do  not  believe 
that  science,  the  last  born  and  petted  progeny  of  time, 
will  displace  them.  It  is  rather  our  problem  to  see 
how  these  great  forces,  these  distinct  lines  of  convic- 
tion, are  to  include  the  later  agency,  accepting  its 
position  under  the  elder  agencies,  and  the  three  unite 
at  once  to  restrict  and  enlarge  each  other — to  define 
the  fields  of  spiritual  and  physical  forces,  and  to  dis- 
cover the  conditions  of  their  interaction. 

A  last  reason  to  be  urged,  not  against  the  scientific, 
but  the  exclusively  scientific,  spirit,  is,  that  being  a 
reactionary  one,  and  that,  too,  against  the  knowledge 
most  native  to  man  himself,  it  first  restricts  and  then 
debases  thought,  and,  through  it,  character.  This  is 
no  personal  accusation  against  the  materialist  of  to- 
day. A  belief  rarely  reveals  at  once,  in  those  who 
first  present  it,  its  mischievous  relations  to  conduct. 
Philosophers   use  doctrines  primarily  as   fruits  and 


DEFENCE    OF    PHILOSOPHY.  21 

conditions  of  intellectual  activity,  and  find  strength 
and  elasticity  in  them  as  a  gymnast  in  his  bars  and 
rings,  without  much  reference  to  their  exact  form  or 
practical  value.  Not  thus  those  who  stand  removed, 
by  one  or  two  circles,  from  the  real  centre  of  intel- 
lectual activity.  They  are  chiefly  affected  by  doc- 
trines in  their  relations  to  action,  in  the  practical 
conclusions  which  flow  from  them.  Much  that  is  stim- 
ulating in  the  first  instance  is  very  stale  at  second- 
hand. The  feast,  as  it  progresses,  has  its  redemptive 
features,  but  life  has  wholly  passed  from  its  next-day 
odors.  The  real  value  of  a  philosophy  is  best  tested 
by  the  popular  estimate  of  it,  by  the  class  that  re- 
motely clutch  at  it,  and  do  not  so  much  rally  under  it 
as  unfurl  it  on  the  march  they  are  already  making. 

In  this  more  remote  and  broader  view,  we  see,  that 
that  physical  bias  of  inquiry  which  rejects  metaphys- 
ics or  wholly  perverts  them,  cannot  but  be  unfavor- 
able to  character.  Liberty  and  right,  freedom  and 
obligation,  and  hence  the  sense  of  power,  opportunity, 
responsibility,  which  springs  from  these,  are  wholly 
overlooked  or  greatly  modified  by  the  materialistic  ten- 
dency ;  and  thus  man  falls  away  from  himself  not  less 
on  the  practical  than  the  theoretical  side.  He  accepts, 
as  inevitable,  the  laws  of  physical  evolution  which 
are  said  to  enfold  him,  and  floats  on — save  as  appetite, 
desire  and  passion  give  the  lie  to  his  faith,  and  impel 
him  in  the  wrong  direction.  We  shall  never,  on  ac- 
count of  our  philosophies,  require  much  less  of  our 
fellows  than  we  do  now — no  false  theory  is  able  to 
baffle  or  turn  aside  the  claims  of  self-interest ;  but  it 
may  furnish  an  apology  to  the  mind  for  not  doing 


22  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

itself  what  it  is  indisposed  to  do.  We  shall  excuse 
ourselves  on  grounds  of  philosophy  which  would  not 
avail  for  others.  Deny  liberty,  and  resolve  obligation 
into  interest,  and  you  have  houghed  the  spiritual 
steeds,  and  left  us  to  make  a  lame  and  foot-sore  jour- 
ney in  the  paths  of  virtue.  A  man,  in  the  growth 
of  character,  scarcely  does  more  than  he  feels  he  can 
do  and  ought  to  do,  and  the  power  and  the  obligation 
issue  out  of  our  spiritual,  not  our  physical,  life — out 
of  that  which  is  higher,  downward  ;  not  out  of  that 
which  is  lower,  upward.  If  one  feel  creeping  all  over 
and  through  him  the  close-knit  connections  of  causa- 
tion, he  must  submit,  or  strike  at  once  for  manhood ; 
and  the  liberating  blow  of  thought  must  spring  from 
the  thoughts  themselves  ;  from  the  mind's  belief  in, 
and  exercise  of,  its  own  strength.  All  in  philoso- 
phy that  removes,  reduces,  or  disguises  that  in  man 
which  is  most  peculiar  to  him — all  that  submits  him 
to  the  forces  below  him,  necessarily  lowers  his  esti- 
mate of  himself,  alters  his  entire  relation  to  the  world 
about  him,  and  thus  humbles  character,  whose  emin- 
ence is  found  in  freedom  of  conception  and  boldness 
of  execution.  If  the  sources  and  resources  of  our  life 
are  all  below  us,  the  sweep  of  our  vision  will  be  quite 
different  from  that  which  belongs  to  us,  if  these  are 
chiefly  above  us.  One's  absolute  position  may  seem 
much  the  same  if  he  stands  on  the  last  round  of  a 
ladder  that  stretches  below  him,  or  the  first  round  of 
one  that  rises  above  him,  but  tendencies  and  incen- 
tives are  every  way  different.  On  both  sides,  then, 
are  we  urged  to  patient,  sound  philosophy  ;  by  what 
it  gives  us,  and  by  what  we  lose  without  it. 


DEFENCE    OF    PHILOSOPHY.  23 

It  remains  only  in  the  present  lecture  to  mark  out 
the  direction  of  our  inquiry.  We  are  to  speak  of 
philosophy  in  its  relations  to  science  and  religion. 
The  point  of  departure  is  the  mind  ;  but  it  is  not  our 
object  to  give  a  systematic  statement  of  its  powers, 
but  only  that  limited  presentation  necessary  to  the 
general  apprehension  of  its  own  phenomena,  and 
their  bearing  on  science  and  religion.  As  the  mind  is 
the  instrument  of  all  knowledge,  and  must,  therefore, 
by  the  form  and  certainty  of  its  own  action,  determine 
the  nature  and  validity  of  that  which  is  known,  it 
is  especially  fit  to  commence  our  inquiries  with  the 
instrument  itself  of  inquiry,  and  to  be  first  sure  of  the 
faculties  at  our  disposal,  the  ground  of  our  faith  in 
them,  and  the  fields  which  they  cover.  Moreover, 
nothing  can  be  more  certainly  known  to  the  mind 
than  the  mind  itself,  since  whatever  else  is  revealed 
by  any  perception,  reflection,  intuition,  the  act  of 
knowledge  is  also  disclosed  by  which  this  outside 
matter  finds  admission.  The  knowing  stands  an 
omnipresent  condition  of  the  thing  known,  and  it  is 
well,  therefore,  to  start,  if  possible,  with  this  perpetual 
ground,  these  sources  of  knowledge,  rather  than  lose 
ourselves  at  once  in  the  outside,  objective  inquiries 
which  are  offered  to  us. 

Again,  the  mind  lies  central  between  the  physical 
and  the  spiritual  realms  :  it  is  allied  to  both,  and  is 
the  only  common  term  between  them.  A  knowl- 
edge of  our  powers,  therefore,  is  a  preparation  for 
an  outward  movement  toward  the  visible  things  of 
science,  and  an  inward  movement  toward  the  invis- 
ible things  of  religion.     Nor  shall  we  find  these  so 


24  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

far  apart  as  many  are  willing  to  regard  them. 
Science  by  no  means  deals  with  the  visible,  the  tan- 
gible, alone ;  it  is  rather  constantly  hovering  over 
these  with  conceptions  as  invisible,  intangible,  as 
much  beyond  the  verification  of  the  senses  as  any 
which  belong  to  the  realm  of  religious  faith  ;  while, 
on  the  other  hand,  those  doctrines  which  pertain  to 
the  soul,  its  constitution,  immortality,  and  spiritual 
dependencies,  are  constantly  descending  into  the 
world  of  facts,  with  phenomena  as  coarse,  palpable, 
cognizable,  as  any  presented  in  the  laboratory.  Now 
the  rationalizing  of  facts,  the  taking  of  them  up  into 
the  region  of  abstract  thought,  into  the  systems  of 
science,  is  a  process  as  purely  intellectual,  as  strictly 
dependent,  for  its  apprehension  and  validity,  on  the 
laws  of  mind,  as  is  the  formation  of  any  ethical  doc- 
trine whatever,  and  its  application  to  the  conduct  of 
daily  life.  We  are,  therefore,  to  inquire,  first,  into 
the  powers  of  mind  so  far  as  to  see  what  it  is  capable 
of  doing,  of  knowing.  Then,  with  the  fields  made 
accessible  to  us  by  its  own  activities  before  us,  we 
are  to  consider  the  form  and  validity  of  its  action 
in  the  physical  sciences  ;  also  the  certainty  and  limits 
of  its  knowledge  in  these  directions.  There  will  thus 
arise  those  questions  which  pertain  to  the  existence 
and  nature  of  matter. 

The  chief  force  of  our  critical  argument  will  through- 
out be  directed  against  materialism,  because  this  is 
the  fruit  of  the  scientific  tendency,  and  because  it  is 
especially  congenial  to  the  English  and  American 
mind.  Idealism  has  hardly  found  a  footing  in  any 
nation  except  the  German,  and   is   rapidly  loosing 


DEFENCE    OF    PHILOSOPHY.  25 

hold  there.  English  thought  is  far  too  gross,  slug- 
gish, practical,  to  ascend  into  this  thin  region  of  pure 
speculation  so  long  as  it  can  graze  in  the  spiritually 
quiet  and  physically  rich  fields  of  materialism.  It 
would  be  contending  with  an  almost  imaginary  evil 
for  us  to  throw  up  defences  against  idealism.  Only' 
a  few  erratic,  nimble  dilletanti  of  the  philosophic 
world  ever  traverse  these  regions  ;  and  these,  like 
antlered  deer,  would  readily  overleap  the  barriers,  no 
matter  how  high  we  might  raise  them.  Materialism, 
on  the  other  hand,  marshals,  in  its  rear,  the  unlet- 
tered masses,  and  is  formidable  as  much  by  the 
blindness  as  by  the  sight  that  is  in  it. 

Having  contemplated  the  laws  of  the  mind's  action 
in  the  physical  world,  we  shall  do  the  same  in  the  in- 
tellectual world  in  the  study  of  its  own  phenomena 
and  activities.  We  shall  dwell  on  the  new  laws  of 
thought  here  present,  and  new  limits  here  disclosed. 
We  shall  then  consider  the  two  fields  in  their  rela- 
tions to  each  other — the  nature  of  life  and  of  mind, 
and  the  scope  and  character  of  our  knowledge  con- 
cerning them.  We  shall  thus  be  prepared  to  con- 
template the  mind's  activity  in  that  central,  religious 
conception — the  conception  of  a  God  ;  the  forms  of 
this  activity,  their  relations  to  us,  and  our  knowledge 
of  them  ;  and,  in  conclusion,  to  discover  the  connec- 
tions of  science,  philosophy  and  religion  ;  the  nature 
of  the  mind's  activity  in  each  ;  the  order  and  the  dan- 
gers incident  to  the  growth  of  knowledge.  If  we 
shall  thus  do  even  a  little  to  lessen  the  colliding  of 
knowledge  with  knowledge  ;  of  investigation  with  in- 
vestigation ;  and,  above  all,  if  we  shall  save  our  faith 


26  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

from  that  jostle  and  strain  which  loosen  its  hold  on  so 
many  minds,  we  shall  think  our  labors  well  bestowed. 
The  necessary  breaking  up  and  modification  of  belief 
in  the  progress  of  truth  are  often  destructive  when 
they  should  be  rather  reconstructive.  The  resistance 
which  makes  of  progress  an  earthquake,  as  notable 
for  the  ruin  it  occasions  as  for  the  new  conditions 
of  life  it  furnishes,  should  be  laid  aside ;  and  free 
inquiry  provoked,  sought  for,  disarmed  by  the  easy 
admission  of  its  truths.  When  every  honest,  earnest 
mind  presents  a  point  for  the  discharge  of  the  electric 
fire  of  every  new  theory,  it  will  no  longer  generate 
thunder-bolts,  and  will  cease  to  shatter,  with  sudden 
shock,  the  belief  of  the  unwary.  The  skill  of  an  in- 
tellectual life  is  found  in  getting  from  the  old  to  the 
new  without  the  loss  of  either :  from  the  old  to  the 
new  in  government  without  the  waste  and  overthrow 
of  revolution  ;  from  the  old  to  the  new  in  social  cus- 
toms and  order  without  the  shock  of  aroused  preju- 
dices, the  bitterness  of  scarcasm,  the  irritation  of 
unwelcome  truth ;  from  the  old  to  the  new  in  faith, 
without  schism,  the  falling  back  of  this  branch  into 
rapid  decay,  the  putting  forward  of  that  into  precipi- 
tate progress  ;  from  the  old  to  the  new  in  philoso- 
phy without  the  irreparable  loss  of  complete  rejection, 
or  the  irreparable  loss  of  unlimited  acceptance,  with- 
out leaping  wholly  off  from  the  sure  foundations  of 
*the  past  on  to  other  foundations  of  merely  fanciful 
strength,  that  have  not  been  tested  by  the  storms  of 
many  centuries. 


LECTURE  II. 

PRIMITIVE    IDEAS  J    THEIR  RELATION    TO  KNOWLEDGE. 

The  point  about  which  the  conflicts  in  philosophy, 
and  more  especially  between  the  philosophical  and 
scientific  tendencies,  the  metaphysical  and  the  physi- 
cal methods,  are  becoming  increasingly  warm,  is  that 
of  intuitive  ideas.  Does  the  mind,  as  mind,  inde- 
pendently bring  anything  to  the  explanation  of  the 
world  about  it ;  or,  are  the  initiations  of  thought  and 
the  forms  of  thought  alike  from  without  ?  This  is  the 
pregnant  question,  which,  put  in  a  great  variety  of 
ways,  is  seeking  an  answer.  Spencer  laboriously  han- 
dles it  through  many  pages.  Mill  returns  to  it  again 
and  again.  It  is  the  germinant  point  of  the  philosophy 
of  the  unconditioned,  as  urged  by  Hamilton  and  Man- 
sell.  It  reappears  in  every  treatise  on  ethics,  and  a 
negative  answer  is  assumed  by  every  disciple  of  Pos- 
itive Philosophy,  and  every  physicist  who  fancies 
himself  solving  problems  of  mind  as  well  as  of  mat- 
ter. Nor  is  this  discussion  unworthy  of  the  attention 
that  is  bestowed  upon  it.  The  bias  of  our  philosophy, 
of  our  thinking,  must  be  received  at  this  point ;  and 
the  answer  given  by  us  to  this  question  will  discover 
at  once  our  lines  and  our  methods  of  investigation, 
and  settle  the  general  character  of  the  results  to  be 
attained  by  us.  To  broach  this  inquiry  clearly,  in  the 
outset,  therefore,  and  answer  it  squarely,  is  necessary 
to  perspicuity  and  soundness  of  method  ;  since  some 


28  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

answer  to  it,  explicit  or  implicit,  will  be  lurking  in 
our  entire  discussion.  No  man  ever  ridiculed  meta- 
physics, and  then  proceeded  to  handle  any  system  of 
thought,  to  present  any  conceptions  whatever  with 
breadth,  who  did  not  plainly  involve  in  the  treatment 
this  very  point— the  source  and  authority  of  our" 
general  ideas.  Those  ideas  have  been  variously 
designated,  each  name  striving  to  seize  upon  some- 
thing in  their  connection  with  the  mind,  or  with 
other  ideas,  peculiar  to  them  and  fitted  to  define 
them.  They  have  been  called  intuitive  ideas — that 
is,  ideas  directly  seen  by  the  mind ;  ideas  furnished 
neither  by  the  senses  nor  by  reflection.  They  have 
been  termed  innate  ideas,  thereby  expressing  their 
independence  of  experience  and  priority  to  it ;  hav- 
ing the  same  end  in  view,  they  been  spoken  of  as  a 
priori  ideas  ;  and,  in  reference  to  their  power  to  bring 
order,  cast  light,  into  all  our  conceptions,  they  have 
been  designated  as  formative,  regulative,  rational,  gen- 
eral ideas.  We  need  merely  to  understand  exactly 
what  we  are  seeking  for,  under  these  various  appel- 
lations, to  wit :  notions,  which  owe  their  origin — fit- 
ting occasions  being  given  in  experience — exclusively 
to  the  mind,  to  its  penetrative,  explanatory,  power ; 
its  intuitive,  rational,  comprehensive  grasp.  The  one 
philosophy  claims,  that,  in  the  last  analysis,  the  mind 
furnishes  the  notions  in  the  light  of  which  it  sees 
and  understands  the  external  world  ;  brings  with  it  its 
own  intellectual  solvents,  reducing  matter,  otherwise 
opaque,  to  a  transparent  and  penetrable  form.  The 
other  philosophy  asserts,  that  all  thought,  knowledge, 
are  exclusively  the  product  of  matter  in  its  action 


PRIMITIVE    IDEAS,    ETC.  29 

upon  mind — the  ripple  marks  left  by  the  restless 
waves  of  physical  forces  ;  that  our  settled  convictions 
are  but  the  worn  path-ways  in  which  repeated  per- 
ceptions and  sensations  have  passed  along,  lining  out 
for  us  the  roads  of  intellectual  travel.  Here  we  take 
issue,  and  affirm  unhesitatingly,  the  mind  does  furnish 
ideas,  and  those,  too,  the  essential  ones  which  give 
order,  system,  reason,  to  all  its  actions. 

Before  passing  to  the  proof,  let  us  see  something 
of  the  relations  of  this  assertion.  It  raises  a  conclu- 
sive issue  against  materialism.  If  the  mind  originates 
any  portion  of  its  own  ideas  ;  if  it  originates  the 
most  necessary  and  characteristic  portion  of  them, 
there  is  in  it  an  independent  source  of  power.  It  is 
not  a  harp  cunningly  played  on  by  winds  that  know 
not  the  skill  that  is  in  them.  We  do  not  say  that 
there  are  no  other  satisfactory  proofs  against  materi- 
alism, but  that  these  intuitions,  if  established,  must 
afford  a  final  and  complete  refutation.  Thus  all  mate- 
rialists signal  the  character  of  their  philosophy  by 
firing  a  gun  at  this  citadel  of  thought  ;  or,  if  unable 
to  see  the  exact  locality  of  its  bristling  works,  into 
the  mist  supposed  to  contain  it.  All  other  activities 
of  mind,  aside  from  the  intuitions,  are  so  immedi- 
ately consequent  on  perception  as  to  give  color  to  ma- 
terialism. Without  the  recognition  of  these  notions, 
the  problem  would  stand  somewhat  thus  :  Certain 
physical  facts  are  invariably  connected  with  certain 
mental  facts  ;  the  last  have  no  known  existence  aside 
from  the  first,  or  otherwise  than  as  shaped  by  them. 
How  the  one  springs  from  the  other  we  know  not, 
but  our  universal  experience  teaches  us  that  they  are 


30  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

inseparable.  An  open  eye,  an  aroused  optic  nerve, 
bring  perception ;  the  play  of  nervous  influence  or 
energy  in  the  brain  is  an  occasion  or  ground  of 
thought.  On  these  and  like  conditions  exclusively 
are  intellectual  phenomena  present  to  us.  The  as- 
sertion thus  becomes  easy,  natural  and  plausible,  that  J 
the  two  are  so  far  identical  that  they  may  be  regarded 
as  opposite  sides  of  the  same  thing,  and  that  we  are 
at  least  justified,  practically,  in  identifying  the  facts  of 
mind  with  what  all  must  admit  to  be  their  inseparable 
conditions,  and  with  what  may  be  their  exact  equiv- 
alents. Nor  does  the  fact,  that  the  inside  look  of 
thought  is  so  distinct  from  its  outside,  physical,  ac- 
companiments— the  sensation  so  different  from  the 
nervous  modifications  in  the  organ  which  produce  it, 
present  so  formidable  an  obstacle  to  materialism  as  at 
first  sight  it  seems  to,  since  this  is  a  difficulty  which 
presses  with  more  or  less  weight  on  all  theories. 
The  idealist,  to  escape  it,  makes  a  stroke  in  the  op- 
posite direction  as  bold  and  destructive  as  that  of 
the  materialist,  and  affirms  that  exterior  facts  are  il- 
lusory— mere  facts  of  mind  projected  outward  ;  their 
true  nature  disguised  by  the  ease  and  rapidity  with 
which  the  mind  evokes  and  unfolds  them.  Nor  is 
the  realist,  accepting  both  mind  and  matter,  much 
better  off,  theoretically,  in  his  handling  of  the  two 
classes  of  facts,  physical  and  intellectual.  He  has 
simply,  in  confessed  ignorance  of  their  real  depend- 
ence, to  hold  them  apart,  to  cage  them  separately,  lest 
the  one  shall  devour  the  other.  Fancy  two  rooms, 
wholly  unlike,  apparently  remote  from  each  other, 
and  whose  relation  in  space  to  each  other  we  cannot 


PRIMITIVE    IDEAS,    ETC.  3 1 

discover :  the  one  dark,  subterranean ;  the  other  light, 
aerial.  The  transpiring  of  certain  events,  known  by- 
touch  alone  in  the  one,  keep  exact  pace  and  time 
with  striking  appearances  in  the  other,  kriown  by 
sight  only.  We  transfer  ourselves  from  one  to  the 
other,  we  know  not  how,  and  find  this  dependence 
fixed,  uniform,  unchangeable.  What  conjectures 
should  we  bring  to  the  solution  of  this  relation  of  de- 
pendence ?  How  should  we  be  baffled  and  perplexed 
by  the  problem,  each  more  strong  to  overthrow  the 
•conclusions  of  his  neighbor  than  to  maintain  his  own  ! 
Such  distinct  chambers  are  the  body  and  the  mind— 
the  opaque  casement  of  the  brain,  and  the  wide,  light, 
expansive  realm  of  consciousness  ;  such  diverse  facts 
are  those  that  transpire  unheeded  under  flesh  and  bone 
in  the  eye  and  ear  and  skull,  and  those  which  flash 
vividly  and  spontaneously  out  in  the  mind  itself,  alive 
either  to  truth  or  to  the  cheerful  visions  of  fancy. 

Suppose  the  controversy  thus  standing  between  the 
idealist,  who  uncovers  his  high  attic  toward  heaven 
and  watches  the  meteors  of  thought ;  the  materialist, 
who  retreats  to  his  earth-enclosed  chamber,  and  makes 
what  cheer  he  can  with  furnace-light,  glowing  cruci- 
ble, and  sulphurous  fumes  ;  and  the  realist,  who  visits 
both  apartments  and  is  not  altogether  at  home  in 
either  :  suppose  it  now  to  be  discovered  that  what 
transpires  in  the  mind  is  not  throughout  in  perfect 
dependence  on  matter,  on  sensations,  single  or  reit- 
erated, but  that  the  initiatory  movement  of  knowl- 
edge is  from  above,  while  that  given  from  beneath 
only  serves  as  raw  material :  suppose  that  actions 
that  were  thought  to  be  synchronous,  and  thus  pro- 


32  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

nounced  identical — identical  as  read  from  their  phys- 
ical side  by  the  materialist,  identical  as  read  from 
their  intellectual  side  by  the  idealist,  are  discovered 
to  be  reciprocal  ;  the  initiative  passing  now  to  this 
extreme,  now  to  that,  according  to  the  phenomena  be- 
fore us  ;  in  sensation,  the  line  of  force  setting  inward 
toward  the  mind  ;  in  comprehension,  outward  from  the 
mind ;  and  do  we  not  see,  at  once,  that  a  new  aspect 
is  given  to  the  whole  problem  ?  Establish  here,  in 
this  line  of  action,  the  initiation  of  mind  from  above, 
and  is  not  the  materialist  put  to  rout  ? — establish  there 
the  initiation  of  matter  from  below,  and  is  not  the 
idealist  silenced  ?  In  each  field,  still  clinging  to  the 
figure,  in  each  compartment,  must  be  discovered  an 
alien  force  entering  from  the  other,  or  the  thinker  will 
inevitably  make  those  forces  which  are  most  familiar  to 
him,  which  are  for  him  always  initiative,  the  efficient, 
primary,  sole  forces,  first  to  the  oversight,  and,  at 
length,  to  the  loss  of  all  other.  In  the  intuitions, 
then,  we  trust  to  establish,  as  against  materialism,  a 
clear,  undeniable  commencement  of  action  by  the 
mind  itself — of  action  which  makes  knowledge  to  be 
what  it  is. 

But  not  only  is  the  independence  of  the  mind 
vindicated  by  these  ideas,  its  nature  and  office  are 
disclosed.  Mind  alone  is  a  rationalizing  agent  ;  that 
is,  one  which  discerns  reasons,  relations,  inherent 
'  dependencies,  in  the  facts  before  it,  and  which  con- 
sciously constructs  its  own  actions  on  like  intellectual 
connections.  It  is  the  very  nature,  the  exclusive 
nature  and  office  of  reason,  to  see  and  employ  the 
principles  of  law  and  order  which  bring  phenomena 


PRIMITIVE    IDEAS,    ETC.  33 

out  of  chaos,  out  of  irrationality,  unintelligibility,  and 
make  of  them  things  to  be  understood,  thought  about, 
explained,  logically,  intellectually  digested.  Organic 
products  are  food  to  the  physical  man,  come  under 
its  powers  of  separation  and  appropriation.  Things 
viewed  in  the  light  of  ideas,  into  which  the  order  and 
relations  of  ideas  have  been  suffused,  are  food  to  the 
mind ;  and  these  first  conceptions,  which  are  not 
things,  but  the  conditions  of  things — the  conditions 
of  their  existence  and  intelligible  form,  it  is  the  office 
of  the  mind  to  furnish.  If  the  place,  time,  casual 
connections  of  events  could  be  assigned  them  by 
themselves,  could  be  directly  found  in  them  and 
learned  from  them,  then,  indeed,  would  mind  and 
matter  be  identical,  and  this  deepest  distinction  of 
the  universe  be  obliterated.  If  the  physical  world 
puts  reason — for  it  is  full  of  reason,  a  product  of 
rationality — into  itself,  its  events,  then  is  it  mind,  for 
this  is  the  distinctive  feature  of  mind  ;  and  the  first 
step  of  our  philosophy  leads  us  to  the  obliteration  of 
the  lines  of  division  between  agents  and  the  things 
acted  upon,  between  comprehension  and  the  thing 
comprehended,  between  mind  and  matter :  that  is,  to 
a  confusion  than  which  none  could  be  greater  to  our 
present  modes  of  thought.  If,  then,  such  primitive 
notions  as  we  maintain  are  established,  it  will  doubt- 
less, at  once,  be  admitted  by  you,  that  they  spring 
from  that  peculiar  power  of  the  mind  by  which  it  is 
mind,  the  power  of  using  in  a  rational  way,  handling 
intelligently  the  facts  before  it ;  the  power  of  organ- 
izing the  intellectual  world,  and  making  it  distinct 
from  every  other.     It  will  also  be  seen — and  more 


34  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

quickly  and  easily  seen  by  hastening  on,  than  by 
pausing  at  this  stage  of  our  inquiry  fully  to  establish 
it — that  these  ideas  define  our  knowledge,  its  general 
directions  and  limits,  and  thus  are  preliminary  to  a 
separation  and  classification  of  the  provinces  of 
thought,  the  several  forms  of  inquiry.  An  initiatory 
idea  or  ideas  afford  the  frame-work,  the  general  lines 
and  grounds  of  every  investigation.  Thus  the  char- 
acter and  validity  of  our  knowledge  are  seen  in  the 
nature  and  certainty  of  the  notions  which  have  guided 
us  in  its  pursuit.  It  is,  then,  to  our  purpose,  in  map- 
ping out  knowledge,  lining  off  its  scientific,  philoso- 
phic and  religious  territory,  to  start  with  those  intui- 
tions which  are  respectively  the  land-marks  of  each. 
The  proof  for  the  presence  in  the  mind  of  these  reg- 
ulative conceptions  we  shall  pass  rapidly,  striving 
rather  to  present,  than  impregnably  to  establish,  our 
premises,  believing  that  the  later  proof  of  their 
fruitful  character,  of  the  light  they  bring,  the  expla- 
nation they  afford,  is  at  once  the  most  pleasing  and 
powerful.  Let  the  seed  grow,  and  we  shall  see  its 
character  without  minute  dissection  ;  radical  and 
plumule  will  separate  and  disclose  themselves  as  the 
living  impulse  reaches  them. 

It  would  seem  natural  to  enumerate,  to  exhaust- 
ively state,  these  intuitions  of  time,  space,  existence, 
cause,  before  we  urge,  even  briefly,  the  proof  on  which 
they  rest.  As  we  shall  have  occasion  to  do  this  later, 
preparatory  to  indicating  the  leading  divisions  of 
thought,  we  will  not  anticipate  the  effort  at  this 
point.  Any  of  them,  as  those  mentioned  above,  may 
be  brought  to  mind  in  giving  distinctness  to  the  ar- 


PRIMITIVE    IDEAS,    ETC.  35 

gument  on  which  all  rest.  First,  we  say,  no  antece- 
dent improbability  attaches  to  the  assertion  of  their 
existence.  It  is  a  fundamental  principle  of  the  in- 
ductive, the  truly  scientific  method,  that  we  are  to 
come  to  no  department  with  anticipations,  preposses- 
sions, disinclinations  ;  that  we  are  simply  to  inquire 
what  is,  seeking  for  it  where  it  is,  and  rejecting 
nothing  which  seems  to  be,  on  the  ground  of  unlike- 
ness  to  previous  experience.  In  no  direction  are 
this  simplicity  and  fairness  of  observation  and  inter- 
pretation more  called  for  than  in  mental  science. 
Invincible  opinion,  inveterate  prejudice,  I  may  say, 
is  often  brought  to  questions,  which,  as  lying  in  to- 
tally new  directions,  should  be  opened  and  pursued 
with  a  readiness  to  reach  very  unexpected  results. 
Our  antecedent  power  to  decide  what  is  to  be  expected 
in  a  department  is  so  very  small,  that  any  use  of  it  is 
much  more  likely  to  mislead  and  embarrass  us  than 
to  furnish  us  valuable  hints.  We  say,  then,  that 
there  are  no  antecedent  grounds  of  conviction  against 
the  presence  of  intuitive  ideas  worthy  of  a  moment's 
consideration.  No  field  is  more  novel,  more  unlike 
all  others,  than  this  of  Mental  Philosophy  ;  and  we 
should  wait  till  we  are  fairly  in  it  before  we  conject- 
ure what  we  are  to  find  there.  Is  this  the  method  of 
physicists  ?  Quite  the  reverse.  They  insist  on  in- 
duction, yet  often  come  to  philosophy,  with  no  inten- 
tion of  starting  their  inquiries  within  its  own  field, 
and  there  slowly  building  up  and  establishing  their 
conclusions.  They  are  not  philosophers,  when  they 
philosophise,  but  physicists  still :  their  entire  think- 
ing remains  saturated  with  physical  conceptions  which 


36  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

they  are,  unconsciously  to  themselves,  determined  to 
foist  upon  the  new  facts  before  them.     Fixed,  phys- 
ical connections  are  all  they  are  familiar  with,  and 
all  they  are  disposed  to  allow  of ;  and  with  one  of 
the  most  settled  a-priori  looks  that  ever  haunted  a 
scientific  or  philosophic  visage,  they  confront  the  task 
they  have  assigned   themselves,  of  subduing  under 
material  laws — conquering  for  physical  science,  the 
phenomena  of  mind.     To  this  effort,  the  spontaneous, 
original  powers  of  mind,  finding  chief  expression  in 
intuitive  ideas,  are  the  great  obstacle,  and  hence  to 
these,  there  is  an  antecedent,  deep-rooted  repugnance. 
The  physicist,  distinctively  so,  so  by  preeminence, 
attacks  inevitably,  by  instinct  and  unconscious  pre- 
dilection, every  claim  of  original,  spontaneous  power 
in  mind.      Now,  we  say,   that   this  whole   crusade 
against  a-priori  ideas  rests  itself  on  an  a-priori  ground 
of  the  most  untenable,  possible  kind.     Honest  induc- 
tion cannot  recognize  the  fitness  of  those  pre-judg- 
ments ;    it  rather  declares,  that  in  passing   such  a 
border  as  that  which  separates  matter  from  mind, 
every  pre-judgment   should  be  laid  aside,  and  very 
new  and  diverse  facts  anticipated.     That  is  a  perverse 
a-priori  use  of  thought,   to  say  beforehand,  that  no 
intuitive  ideas  are  to  be  found  in  the  mind.     One  of 
the  surest  ways  of  evincing  a  distorted  a-priori  bias 
is  this  of  attacking,  in  an  unqualified,  general  way, 
a-priori  conceptions  and  arguments.     These  assaults 
are  themselves  inevitably  of  an  a-priori  character,  and 
that,  too,  in  an  insufficient  and  false  way.     We  say, 
then,  to  the  extreme  physicist — and  we  are  speaking 
of  no  others— give  us  induction,  but  give   us   real, 


PRIMITIVE    IDEAS,    ETC.  37 

honest  induction,  that  which  is  made  on  the  ground 
gone  over,  and  reaches  its  results  from  what  is  there 
found.  Slip  the  sandals  from  your  feet  as  you  enter 
philosophy,  for  this  is  holy  ground — that  is,  ground 
not  to  be  travelled  over  in  exactly  the  same  coarse 
way  as  that  already  traversed :  the  mind  is  not  to  be 
reduced  in  crucibles,  nor  snipped  up  with  the  nippers 
of  the  anatomist.  Absolve  your  thoughts  from  old 
associations,  turn  inward  your  vision,  and,  believe  us, 
there  are  other  learners  than  those  whose  eyes  feast 
on  rocks,  and  linger  lovingly  on  skeletons. 

We  invoke  a  fair  field,  an  open  way  for  philosophy, 
and  fling  back  the  denial  of  a-priori  ideas  as  itself 
hasty,  unfounded,  a-priori.  But,  it  may  be  asked,  if 
these  intuitions  are  so  fundamental  in  mind,  how  does 
the  physicist  himself  proceed  without  them  ?  He 
does  not  proceed  without  them.  Some  of  them  he 
theoretically  rejects,  and  practically  employs  ;  some 
steal  into  his  service  unbeknown  to  him  ;  and  some 
he  knowingly  uses  and  fallaciously  explains.  This  is 
our  second  consideration  in  making  way  for  proof; 
the  untenable  attitude  of  the  materialist  in  his  denial 
of  original  intuitions  in  the  mind.  As  an  example  of 
these  regulative  notions,  momentarily  employed,  and, 
at  long  intervals,  formally  rejected,  we  instance  cause 
and  effect.  Materialism  can  do  nothing  with  this 
notion,  can  make  nothing  of  it ;  and  the  physicist, 
therefore,  when  he  so  far  becomes  the  philosopher  as 
to  discuss  the  question  at  all,  resolves  cause  and 
effect  into  simple  antecedence.  This  is  the  conclu- 
sion of  Mill,  of  Spencer,  of  all  who  break  ground 
in  philosophy  in  behalf  of  simple  physics.     Indeed, 


38  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

what  other  position  is  possible  to  mere  science  ?  The 
causes  that  underlie  phenomena  are  never  seen, 
heard,  felt :  it  is  to  account  for  what  is  seen,  heard, 
felt,  that  they  are  invoked — invoked  by  the  mind 
alone.  Causes  are  always  and  forever  below  the 
surface,  out  of  sight,  beyond  the  touch,  and  are- 
brought  forward  to  account  for,  to  explain,  to  enable 
us  to  understand  what  is  above  the  surface,  in  the 
eye,  or  under  the  hand.  I  hear  a  sound :  my  thought 
explains  it,  not  by  the  mere  fact  that  a  steam-valve 
has  been  opened  in  the  distance,  but  by  the  further 
belief  that  there  has  been  a  transfer  of  force  by  wave- 
motion  through  the  air  to  my  ear.  Now  this  force 
no  man  has  ever  heard,  handled,  in  any  way  directly 
reached  by  the  senses.  It  is  of  hypothetical,  mental 
origin,  brought  in  to  explain  what  is  seen,  felt  or 
heard.  Materialism,  therefore,  denying  that  the  mind 
furnishes  anything  in  the  apprehending  process,  knows 
not  what  to  make  of  this  notion  of  a  force,  of  a  cause 
actively  present  in  phenomena,  and  momentarily  giv- 
ing rise  to  them.  Its  only  resource  is  to  deny  the 
validity  of  the  idea,  and  reduce  causation  to  simple 
antecedence.  The  valve  opens,  the  air  moves,  the 
ear  hears  ;  but  there  is  no  common  term  of  force 
which  unites  the  three. 

Nothing  could  be  more  at  war  with  the  practical 
attitude,  the  working  conceptions  of  science,  than 
this,  its  theoretical  conclusions.  Science  is  full  of 
the  notion  of  force,  of  causation,  from  top  to  bottom, 
and  its  investigations  cannot  proceed  without  it. 
Make  of  its  connections,  mere  connections  in  time, 
and  there  is  not  more  difference  between  the  close- 


PRIMITIVE    IDEAS,    ETC.  39 

wrought  cable  and  its  impression  in  the  sand  than 
between  scientific  results  as  they  now  are,  and  as 
they  would  be  under  this  view.  Attraction,  cohe- 
sion, what  are  they  to  the  mind  but  forces  that  per- 
vade space  and  matter,  and  by  instantaneous  effi- 
ciency handle  the  orbs  of  a  solar  system,  or  the  motes 
in  the  summer  air  ?  Are  these  figments  ?  Then  is 
science  a  figment,  a  cunning  texture  of  conceits,  a 
waking  dream.  Force  is  nothing,  unless  the  notion 
of  causation  is  valid  ;  since  this  necessity  of  the  mind 
to  refer  appearances  to  efficient  agencies  back  of 
them,  gives  rise  to  the  conception  of  force — force 
everywhere  at  work  to  occasion,  account  for,  and 
order  phenomena.  Science  is  full  of  this  notion  of 
force,  mechanical,  crystalline  force,  electric  force, 
chemical  force,  heat  force,  and,  latest  of  all,  thought 
force,  and  the  correlation  and  equivalence  of  forces. 
Yet,  if  the  intuitive  notion  of  cause  and  effect  cannot 
stand,  neither  can  this  ingenious  scientific  structure 
which  rests  upon  it.  If  there  are  no  causes,  then 
there  are  no  forces.  If  there  is  no  soundness  in  this 
first  inference  of  the  mind  by  which  it  puts  force, 
super-sensual,  intangible  force  under  phenomena, 
then  there  is  no  substance  in  those  elaborate  con- 
ceptions by  which  it  expounds  the  mechanical,  chem- 
ical, vital  facts  of  the  world. 

Moreover,  this  denial  of  the  notion  of  causation  is 
suicidal  to  materialism.  If  phenomena  have  no  other 
connection  than  one  in  time,  the  facts  of  mind  cannot 
be  otherwise  dependent  on  those  of  matter  than  chron- 
ologically. Hence,  thought  and  feeling,  diverse  in 
form  from  brain  action,  and  in  no  way  the  fruit  of  it, 


40  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

cannot  be  equivalent  to  it,  however  constantly  they 
may  accompany  each  other.  Materialism  destroys 
itself,  if  it  admits  causation  as  an  intuitive  notion, 
since  the  mind  then  becomes  the  seat  of  indepen- 
dent, authoritative  interpretation.  It  destroys  itself 
if  it  denies  causation,  since  all  things  then  fall  apart. 
All  things  have  necessarily  an  independent,  and  an 
equally  independent,  existence  ;  mental  and  physical 
facts  in  regard  to  each  other,  not  less  than  physical 
facts  among  themselves. 

While  some  regulative  ideas,  like  this  of  cause  and 
effect,  are  theoretically  denied,  and  practically  em- 
ployed by  materialism,  others  are  tacitly  assumed, 
quietly  taken  by  physicists,  and  used  unbeknown  to 
themselves  and  others.  Of  this  class  is  the  notion 
of  resemblance.  We  do  not  open  the  discussion 
here,  whether  this  is  or  is  not  an  intuitive  notion. 
We  so  claim  it.  It  is  by  comparing  one  series  of 
sensations  with  another,  that  Spencer,  the  latest  and 
most  generally  accepted  philosopher  of  materialism, 
reaches  the  notions  of  space  and  time.  He  furtively 
seizes  upon  this  notion,  gives  it  no  explanation,  does 
not  even  think  that  it  needs  an  explanation,  and  by 
means  of  it  arrives  at  other  intuitions  which  he  uses 
as  further  relays  to  bear  him  on  his  way.  If,  however, 
the  idea  of  resemblance  is  denied  him,  under  which 
these  comparisons  take  place,  and  these  alleged  gen- 
eralizations are  reached,  he  is  at  least  thrown  back 
another  step,  which  must  be  first  established  before 
his  reasonings  can  be  brought  to  bear.  Surrepti- 
tiously availing  himself  of  one  notion,  he  is  able  to 
initiate  his  intellectual  activity — to  get  his  thought- 


PRIMITIVE    IDEAS,    ETC.  4 1 

process  in  motion ;  and,  by  a  little  confusion  of  analy- 
sis, to  bring  forth,  as  the  boasted  product  of  his  mental 
jugglery,  those  few  notions  whose  presence  he  is  wil- 
ling to  admit.  This  is  the  third  method  belonging 
to  the  physicist  in  his  treatment  of  regulative  ideas. 
Some  he  denies  ;  some  he  overlooks,  and  yet  uses  in 
reaching  others  ;  and  some,  as  those  of  space  and 
time,  he  feels  the  necessity  of  allowing,  but  presents 
them  as  the  fruit  of  generalizations.  Now  what  is 
generalization  ?  It  is  an  act  of  abstraction,  by  which 
we  consider  a  quality  or  relation  belonging  to  many 
things  without  considering  any  one  of  the  things  to 
which  it  attaches.  Thus  the  flavor,  known  as  sweet, 
found  to  exist  in  many  things,  is  at  length  designated 
under  a  word  which  covers  the  quality  with  no  refer- 
ence to  anything  which  possesses  it.  Spencer  claims 
that  the  notions  of  space  and  time  only  express  certain 
relations  which  are  found  to  belong  to  many  things  in 
common.  I  can  move  my  hand,  backward  and  for- 
ward, over  the  desk  before  me,  and  thus  secure  a 
series  of  sensations  which  I  can  repeat  and  reverse 
at  pleasure.  I  find  the  same  true  of  many  other 
series  of  perceptions  :  as  when  I  slide  this  index 
across  my  finger,  or  when  I  slowly  turn  my  eyes  from 
one  part  of  the  room  to  another,  and  then  restore 
them  to  their  first  position.  This  relation  of  indiffer- 
ent, permanent  succession,  by  which  sensations  can 
be  repeated  at  pleasure  in  a  given  order,  or  reversed 
in  their  order,  attaching  as  it  does  to  many  things, 
gives  rise,  says  Spencer,  to  the  word  space,  by  which 
we  designate  this  fact,  common  to  much  of  our  expe- 
rience.    On  the  other  hand,  some  sensations  have  a 


42  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND   RELIGION. 

fixed  order  which  cannot  be  retraced.  The  day  ad- 
vances, and  we  may  follow  its  various  grades  of  light, 
its  series  of  events,  but  cannot  reverse  them,  or  renew 
them  at  pleasure.  Our  thoughts,  in  conversation  and 
in  speech,  move  onward,  but  do  not  remain  to  be  gone 
over  a  second  time,  or  to  be  followed  back  to  their 
commencement.  Here  is  a  second,  fixed  relation, 
which  a  share  of  our  experiences  have  to  each  other, 
and  this  is  designated  as  time. 

This  account,  now  compactly  given,  when  fully 
presented,  and  skilfully  enforced,  seems  very  plaus- 
ible. Indeed,  it  so  closely  approaches  the  truth  as 
not  to  be  easily  distinguished  from  it.  Yet,  the  error 
is  the  old  one  of  antecedence,  so  often  expressed 
under  the  image  of  the  cart  and  the  horse.  Which 
of  two  ideas  contains  the  other,  draws  after  it  the 
other,  is,  again  and  again,  the  grand  question  of 
philosophy.  In  the  case  before  us,  does  the  notion 
of  relation  go  before  and  give  rise  to  that  of  time  ? — 
or,  does  the  notion  of  time  give  rise  to  that  of  rela- 
tion ?  Says  materialism,  the  first  is  true  ;  says  intui- 
tive philosophy,  the  second  is  true.  Which  is  most 
specific  ;  time,  space,  or  the  idea  of  relation  ?  Evi- 
dently time  and  space,  since  both  of  these,  together 
with  many  other  connections,  are  included  under  the 
idea  of  relation.  Now  which  is,  by  generalization, 
taken  from  the  other  :  the  more  general  from  the 
less  general — that  is,  relation  from  time  ;  or  the  less 
general  from  the  more  general — that  is,  time  from 
relation  ?  Plainly,  the  first.  We  do  not  arrive  at 
the  specific  sweet  of  honey  from  the  general  notion 
of  sweetness,  but  reach  the  general  notion  of  sweet- 


PRIMITIVE    IDEAS,    ETC.  43 

ness  from  this  and  many  other  specific  examples  of 
it.  Thus,  we  do  not  derive  time,  a  specific  relation, 
from  the  general  idea  of  relation  ;  but  relation  in  gen- 
eral from  time,  space,  casual  connection,  each  and  all 
specific  cases  under  it  We  must,  therefore,  know 
time,  space,  cause  and  effect,  antecedently  as  kinds 
of  relation,  before  we  can  reach  the  yet  more  general 
idea  of  relation  ;  that  is  to  say,  we  must  know  time, 
as  we  know  sweetness,  in  a  direct,  concrete  way,  before 
we  can  make  it  the  product  of  a  generalization  :  that 
is  to  say  again,  all  our  knowledge  must  be  specific, 
separate,  intuitive,  before  it  can  become  generic,  gen- 
eral. Time  and  space  must,  therefore,  be  either  sen- 
sations like  hardness  or  softness,  or  mental  intuitions, 
present  in  each  case,  before  a  process  of  generaliza- 
tion, which  is  one  merely  of  separation  and  distinc- 
tion, can  reach  them.  We  cannot  analyze  gold  out 
of  a  mineral  that  does  not  contain  gold.  No  more 
can  we  generalize  time  out  of  a  mental  content  that 
is  not  seen  to  involve  it. 

This  brings  us  to  the  very  pith  of  the  discussion. 
If  the  product  we  are  to  deal  with  is  wholly  one  of 
sensation,  if  the  mind  is  to  add  nothing  to  it,  cast  no 
new  light  upon  it  from  another  source,  then  a  process 
of  generalization,  that  is,  of  analysis  and  separation, 
can  furnish  nothing  but  distinct,  sensational  qualities, 
as  hard,  soft ;  bright,  dim  ;  sweet,  sour ;  since  these 
alone  are  our  coarse  staple  to  be  reflectively  worked 
up.  Time,  then,  is  a  sensation,  or  it  cannot  be 
evolved  from  sensations.  Relations,  conditions,  one 
and  all,  imply  some  definite  method  of  viewing  the 
subject ;  and  this  definite  method  or  form,  this  con- 


44  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

trolling,  regulative  idea,  is  not  a  matter  of  sensation, 
but  something  furnished  by  the  mind  in  view  of  its 
own  ends.  Suppose,  for  instance,  with  Spencer,  that 
we  could  have  gone  through  with  the  successive 
events  of  an  hour,  and  have  had  no  idea  of  time,  we 
should  then  have  taken  no  step  towards  such  an  idea  ; 
we  should  have  been  no  better  off  at  the  close  than 
at  the  commencement  of  our  experience.  A  second, 
a  third,  a  fourth  hour,  used  in  exactly  the  same  way, 
would  carry  us  no  further.  Either  at  the  close  of  the 
first  hour,  we  must  have  observed  this  relation  of 
succession  and  grasped  it,  at  least  incipiently,  con- 
cretely as  one  of  time,  or  we  would  be  no  nearer  to  it 
than  at  the  outset.  And  who  does  not  see  that  it  is 
by  rising  out  of  the  sensations  as  sensations,  and  tak- 
ing a  synthetic,  intellectual  attitude  toward  them, 
that  we  get  the  conditions  under  which  the  mind 
flashes  on  them  this  conception  of  time.  Moreover, 
this  conception,  come  when  it  may,  comes  instanta- 
neous and  complete.  It  is  not  made  up  of  parts, 
compounded  of  ingredients,  fabricated  of  odds  and 
ends  of  thought.  It  has  a  most  specific,  simple,  pri- 
mary character,  and  thus,  like  all  such  ideas,  must 
come  at  once,  come  directly,  find  admission  through 
some  open,  spiritual  sense,  as  color,  or  taste,  or  sound 
enter  the  precincts  of  the  mind  through  a  physical 
sense.  .  A  thing  is  ultimate,  single,  simple,  on  this 
ground  alone,  that  a  direct,  final  faculty  discloses  it, 
and  time  and  space,  as  primary  relations,  must  be 
referred  to  a  specific  cognition  of  reason,  or  of  the 
senses.  As  time  and  space,  ultimate  conceptions, 
are  not  sensations,  they  must  be  intuitions  :  as  we  do 


PRIMITIVE    IDEAS,    ETC.  45 

not  see  them,  or  taste  them,  or  touch  them,  we  must, 
by  the  insight  of  a  spiritual  eye,  discern  them.  We 
must,  with  the  subtlety  of  a  rational  sense,  grasp  their 
imponderable  forms,  and  furnish  them,  the  moulds  of 
thought :  time,  under  whose  silent,  eternal  arches, 
measuring  their  progress,  flow  all  events ;  space,  • 
beneath  whose  open  concave  all  the  creations  of 
time  are  poured  out  in  palpable,  visible  form,  as 
waters,  escaping  their  cavernous  bed,  glance  for  a 
little  in  the  light,  and  are  gone  again.  Thus  by 
denial  and  refutation  do  we  prepare  the  way  for  the 
positive  argument,  establishing  the  mind's  independ- 
ent, penetrative  action  in  handling  the  material  of 
thought  presented  by  the  world  about  us. 

A  first  direct  reason  we  offer  for  an  acceptance  of  an 
intuitive  element  in  our  intellectual  processes,  is,  that 
all  careful  and  discriminating  analysis  yields  it.  So 
evidently  is  this  true,  that  the  notion  of  cause  and 
effect,  persistent  and  omnipresent  as  it  is,  is  theoreti- 
cally rejected,  simply  because  its  presence  cannot 
otherwise  be  accounted  for  than  by  recognizing  the 
existence  and  validity  of  an  intuitive  faculty.  To 
escape  the  product,  physical  philosophy  rejects  the 
power,  not  considering  that  the  only  proof  we  have  of 
any  mental  faculty  is  the  results  it  yields.  Liberty, 
right,  the  infinite,  are  treated  in  a  like  way.  That 
is  to  say,  these  ideas  are  confessedly  present,  the 
phenomena  of  mind  evidently  yield  them,  analysis 
discloses  them,  yet  they  are  termed  fallacious,  sym- 
bolical, pseudo- ideas.  Now  we  know  no  other  safe 
philosophy  than  that  which  accepts  the  uniform  as- 
sertions of  the  mind  simply  because  it  makes  them. 


46  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

We  might  as  well  reject  color,  though  the  eye  sees 
it,  as  to  reject  causation,  when  the  mind  steadily, 
inevitably,  affirms  it.  Many  of  those  ideas  called 
intuitive  are  even  by  the  materialist  allowed  to  be 
present,  and  then  characterized  as  fanciful  and  ficti- 
tious, for  no  other  reason  than  because  they  do  not 
enter  by  avenues  whose  existence  he  has  recognized. 
Of  course,  if  there  cannot  be  an  intuitive  faculty, 
then  there  cannot  be  intuitions.  It  would  seem, 
however,  to  be  novel  proof,  as  directed  against  the 
existence  of  such  a  faculty,  to  assert,  that  seeming 
intuitions  are  illusory  ;  and  illusory,  not  because  they 
deceive  us,  but  because  we  started  our  philosophy 
with  the  conviction  that  the  power  to  which  they  are 
referred  is  no  power.  We  are  thus  entitled  to  the 
full  force  of  the  admission,  that  materialism  so  far 
recognizes  the  correctness  of  that  analysis  which 
yields  regulative  ideas  as  to.  be  ever  striking  at,  and 
hunting  down,  these  ghosts  of  thought,  whose  valid 
existence  is  nevertheless  denied.  The  man  cannot 
sleep,  a  fever  is  on  him,  his  flesh  creeps,  but  he 
believes  in  no  spirit ;  no,  not  he.  But,  it  will  be  said, 
the  physicist  denies  the  correctness  of  this  analysis, 
even  when  such  notions  as  that  of  space,  admitted  by 
him  to  be  real,  are  concerned.  Here  is  the  chosen 
ground  of  the  physical  school,  and  we  are  willing  to 
meet  them  on  it ;  to  put  the  question  distinctly. 
Does  the  eye,  for  instance,  yield  extension  as  a  sen- 
sation, or  is  there,  in  every  special  judgment,  a  rous- 
ing of  the  mind  to  furnish  and  apply  an  element  of 
its  own,  that  of  space  ?  Suppose  a  board,  one  foot 
square,  to  be  placed  before  the  eye  two  feet  from  it, 


PRIMITIVE    IDEAS,    ETC.  47 

is  its  extension  determined  by  the  eye  as  a  sense- 
organ  simply  ?  We  say,  No.  Yet,  this  is  a  case  as 
favorable  to  materialism  as  any  that  can  be  put.  Sup- 
pose a  second  board,  two  feet  square,  to  be  placed 
two  feet  behind  the  first,  and  in  exact  line  with  it : 
the  first  will  completely  hide  it.  Withdraw  the  first, 
and  the  second  will  occupy  precisely  the  same  space 
on  the  retina  as  that  covered  by  the  first.  There  are 
here  two  extensions — the  extension  of  the  board  for 
the  time  being  looked  at,  and  the  extension  of  its 
image  on  the  retina.  Which  of  these  is  it  that  the 
materialist  will  affirm  is  directly  known  as  a  sensa- 
tion ?  If  he  says  the  extension  of  the  image  on  the 
retina,  we  make  a  double  answer.  In  the  first  place, 
we,  by  mere  outward  sight,  by  direct  sensation,  know 
nothing  whatever  about  the  retina,  not  even  its  ex- 
istence, much  less  the  size  of  the  image  upon  it.  In 
the  second  place,  the  two  boards1— and  a  thousand 
others  might  be  so  arranged  that  the  same  would  be 
true  of  them — occupy  exactly  the  same  area  on  the 
retina,  and,  therefore,  should  appear  of  the  same  size, 
yet  they  do  not.  If  it  now  be  said  that  the  extension 
directly  discerned  is  that  of  the  board  looked  at,  then 
we  say,  that  this  should  be  exactly  known,  whereas, 
in  many  cases,  it  is  not,  and  cannot  be.  Let  a  series 
of  boards  be  arranged,  as  we  have  intimated,  under 
the  open  sky,  in  the  space  directly  above  the  specta- 
tor, with  long  distances  between  them,  and  he  will 
find  himself  utterly  at  fault  in  deciding  on  their  di- 
mensions. The  reason  is  obvious  :  sensation,  as 
pure  sensation,  is  thus  separated  from  the  conditions 
which   ordinarily  accompany  it  in  forming  a   judg- 


48  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

ment,  and  it  finds  itself  embarrassed  in  deciding  on 
the  dimensions  of  objects  so  located.  Thus  we  ask 
each  other,  How  large  does  the  moon  seem  to  you  to 
be  ? — and  receive  every  variety  of  answer.  If  dimen- 
sions were  a  direct,  complete  product  of  sensation,  as 
is  color,  then,  like  a  given  color,  they  should  remain 
constant,  distinct,  uniform  :  their  variable,  indetermin- 
ate character  show  the  presence  of  another  element 
— that  of  constructive  judgments.  Moreover,  if  the 
size  of  an  object  is  directly  seen,  how  happens  it 
that  a  convex  mirror  magnifies  or  distorts  to  the  eye 
an  object  without  affecting  that  object  ? 

The  true  explanation  is  this  :  the  mind,  with  the 
antecedent  idea  of  space,  is  able  to  interpret  varying 
sensations,  which  in  themselves  disclose  nothing  di- 
rectly of  extension,  so  as  to  judge  of  the  dimensions 
of  bodies,  and  these  judgments  are  all  open  to  the 
errors  and  deceptions  of  peculiar  circumstances,  not 
included  in  our  previous  experience.  Thus,  with  its 
notion  of  space,  it  can  look  at  a  painting  as  a  perfectly 
plane  surface,  or,  by  a  flash  of  insight  as  it  were,  open 
it  up  instantly  into  a  landscape  of  great  distances 
and  innumerable  objects.  Everywhere  will  analysis 
yield  something  more  than  mere  sensation. 

A  second  reason  to  be  urged  in  behalf  of  these 
original  strokes  of  power  in  the  mind,  is  the  fact,  that 
it  can  thus  begin  to  think  in  many  directions.  Sen- 
sations as  sensations  are  complete  ;  reflection  can 
add  nothing  to  them.  Bitter  is  bitter,  and  if  one 
wishes  to  increase  his  knowledge,  he  has  only  to 
taste  again :  reflection  will  not  help  him.  Thought 
cannot  grapple  these  complete,  spherical  sensations 


PRIMITIVE    IDEAS,    ETC.  49 

except  by  virtue  of  some  relation  to  be  established 
between  them,  such  as  one  or  many,  here  or  there, 
now  or  hereafter,  like  or  unlike.  But  each  of  these 
relations  is  specific  under  a  distinct  idea,  and  this  idea 
must  be  forthcoming.  We  cannot  say  that  things  are 
like  or  unlike,  till  we  have  compared  them  ;  and  we 
cannot  compare  them,  till  we  have  the  notion  of  resem- 
blance. The  mind  might  as  well  be  a  mirror,  holding 
now  one  object,  now  another,  as  to  be  a  mind,  if  it  can 
do  nothing  more  than  hold  phenomena,  if  it  cannot, 
asking  itself  whether  things  are  like  or  unlike,  pro- 
ceed to  see.  Here,  exactly,  is  our  affirmation.  The 
eye  does  not  see  things  to  be  like  or  unlike,  but  pro- 
ceeds to  see  them  ;  that  is,  when  the  mind  has  sug- 
gested this  direction  to  attention,  the  sight  is  so  or- 
dered. We  are  asked,  Were  the  two  horses  alike  ? 
and  make  answer,  We  did  not  observe.  We  saw,  but 
did  not  see,  because  the  antecedent  idea  of  resem- 
blance was  not  then  present  to  us.  Now,  as  men  are 
thinking  in  all  directions — that  is,  combining  sensa- 
tions, this  fact  shows  the  universal  presence  of  spe- 
cific ideas  or  relations  under  which  thought  takes 
place.  No  other  union  by  virtue  of  thought  merely 
is  possible. 

A  third  proof  of  the  nature  of  this  intuitive  action 
is  found  in  the  character  of  the  conclusions  which 
rest  exclusively  upon  it,  when  compared  with  those 
which  arise  from  sensation.  Mathematical  lines  and 
surfaces  are  secondary  conceptions  under  the  general 
idea  of  space.  Hence  the  mind  affirms  some  truths 
concerning  them  by  direct  insight.  Of  this  nature  is 
the  following :  Two  straight  lines  parallel  through 
3 


50  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

a  portion  of  their  extent,  are  parallel  through  their 
entire  extent  That  the  two  bars  on  a  railroad  track 
can  never  meet  if  parallel  and  straight,  is  a  fact 
which  every  rational  mind  sees  to  be  necessarily 
true.  Contrast  it,  for  instance,  with  the  strongest 
possible  assertion  resting  on  mere  experience,  and 
observe  the  difference.  All  crows  are  black.  Put 
yourself  on  an  unknown  continent,  would  you  direct 
a  moment's  attention  to  the  question  whether  paral- 
lel lines  should  be  found  to  meet  ?  Would  you  be 
any  more  than  surprised  at  a  flock  of  crows,  a  por- 
tion of  which  were  brown,  or  gray,  or  white  ?  Yet 
Mill  is  compelled  to  put  both  of  these  conclusions  on 
the  same  ground  of  authority,  and  therein  signally 
refutes  his  philosophy.  Geometry  and  Botany  do 
not  rest  on  the  same  basis  of  proof,  and  a  theory  that 
affirms  that  they  do,  is  remarkable  for  audacity,  if  not 
for  penetration.  There  is  in  the  one,  instantaneous 
insight;  in  the  other,  slow  perception:  in  the  one, 
demonstrative  conclusions  rest  on  a  single  example ; 
in  the  other,  a  probable  conclusion  follows  many 
examples. 

These  necessary  convictions  are  scattered  every- 
where, and  can  be  accounted  for  only  on  the  ground 
of  an  intuitive  grasp  of  their  unchangeable  conditions. 
It  is  easy  to  conceive  of  causes  that  might  break  in 
on  the  order  of  nature  in  any  direction.  Immutable 
laws,  so  called  by  physicists,  are  no  further  immuta- 
ble than  are  the  forces  that  give  rise  to  them.  Vary 
these,  and  change  in  those  must  follow.  But  the 
logical  laws  of  thought,  the  geometric  laws  of  space, 
are  immutable  in  a  far  deeper  sense.     We  can  un- 


PRIMITIVE    IDEAS,    ETC.  5  I 

derstand  no  forces  or  causes  that  could  modify  them. 
They  are  the  very  frame-work  of  thought :  break 
them  up,  and  coherent  thinking  is  gone  ;  while  no 
change  in  the  order  and  character  of  mere  events 
disturbs  our  contemplation  of  them.  The  mind  as- 
serts itself,  its  own  line  and  order  of  movement,  in 
these  necessary  truths,  and  the  blow  which  strikes 
them  away  falls  on  the  intellectual  life  as  one  of 
syncope  and  dissolution. 

Further,  these  regulative  ideas  maintain  their 
grounds,  as  do  all  theories,  by  the  light  and  order 
they  bring  into  our  thinking — by  the  harmony  and 
coalescence  of  facts  under  them.  Nothing  is  lost. 
One  half  of  the  world  of  knowledge  is  not  sacrificed 
to  the  other.  We  have  science,  and  we  have  philos- 
ophy. On  these,  as  joint  foundations,  religion  is  able 
to  rest.  But  this  best  and  most  complete  proof  can 
only  appear  in  its  full  force  as  we  proceed. 

We  close  the  lecture  with  a  brief  enumeration  of 
these  regulative  ideas,  not  being  able  to  pause  to 
justify  each  separately.  The  first  of  these  is  exist- 
ence. Existence  and  the  idea,  the  thought  of  it,  are 
quite  distinct.  This  is  not  a  sensation,  but  the 
mind's  simplest  act  of  explanation  in  reference  to  a 
sensation.  But  things  are  finite,  divisible,  and  a 
second  act  of  thought  resolves  them,  under  the  no- 
tion of  number,  into  one  or  more,  according  to  the 
purpose  and  method  of  contemplation.  We  have 
twenty  cattle,  or  one  drove  ;  fifty  sheep,  or  one  flock  ; 
as  the  mind  chooses  to  regard  them.  Separate 
things  are  compared  under  the  notion  of  resem- 
blance, as  like   or   unlike,  and   thus    they  coalesce 


52  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

again  in  groups  of  the  mind's  own  establishment — 
groups  which  depend  wholly  on  the  phase  of  resem- 
blance present  to  the  thoughts.  Marbles,  granites, 
ores,  may  all  be  heaped  together  as  minerals  over 
against  a  pile  of  organic  substances  ;  or  may  be 
parted  in  divisions  among  themselves  as  marbles, 
granites,  ores.  Thus  innumerable  lines  of  order,  of 
synthetic  thought,  are  shot  through  the  chaos  of 
many  and  diverse  things.  So  far,  in  these  three 
intuitions,  we  have  the  common  ground  of  all  being. 
Now  comes  a  deep  division :  the  stream  parts,  and 
the  notion  of  space  gives  us  one  territory — that  of 
physical  facts,  swept  through  by  the  one  current ; 
and  consciousness  a  second  territory,  occupied  by  the 
second  current — that  of  intellectual  facts.  These  two 
proceed  in  diverse  form  and  method.  The  first  has 
a  second  regulative  idea — that  of  cause  and  effect. 
Under  efficient,  measured,  unchangeable  forces,  pre- 
sent in  the  material  world,  its  events  progress  with 
a  strict,  causal  connection  everywhere.  In  the  sec- 
ond field  of  activity — the  spiritual — we  have  the  no- 
tion of  liberty,  the  counterpart  of  causation,  and  of 
right  and  of  beauty,  which  furnish  the  conditions  and 
ground  of  liberty.  Between  these  two  forms  of  being, 
and  common  to  them  both,  lies  the  intuitive  idea  of 
time.  The  same  time — identically  the  same  time — 
overlies  physical  and  spiritual  events.  Finally,  these 
finite  events,  flowing  on  in  a  double  channel,  lie  over 
against  the  infinite,  come  from  it,  and  are  gathered 
into  it,  under  it — are  poised  with  it ;  the  infinite,  the 
source  and  end  of  the  finite,  the  finite  the  revelation 
of  the  infinite. 


PRIMITIVE    IDEAS,    ETC.  S3 

These  ideas  admit  of  the  following  presentation  : 
Existence, 
Number, 
Resemblance, 

r  Consciousness, 

J  Liberty, 

Time,  \  t>-  u . 
'      Right, 

v  Beauty, 
The  Infinite. 
Thus  starting  with  existence  in  its  feeblest,  finite 
form,  we  return  to  existence  in  its  fullest  infinite 
form.  As  ocean  currents  are  sundered  on  the  head- 
land of  a  continent,  and  skirt  its  divergent  coasts — 
or  as  they  overlie  and  underlie  each  other  in  the 
same  seas,  with  diverse  directions  and  diverse  tem- 
peratures, yet  all  spring  from  the  same  great  sources, 
and  feel  the  same  general  momentum,  so  material 
facts  and  spiritual  facts  part  to  the  right  and  the  left, 
or  above  and  below,  in  the  fulfillment  of  one  end, 
under  the  propulsion  of  one  purpose,  together  ex- 
pressing and  fulfilling  the  plan  of  God. 

The  above  division  of  regulative  ideas  goes  far 
to  answer  the  inquiry,  Why  these  and  no  others  ? 
They  cover,  and  completely  cover,  the  entire  field 
of  phenomena,  and,  as  broad  as  the  knowledge  of  the 
mind,  show  themselves  to  be  its  frame-work.  No 
department  of  thought  being  omitted,  these  ideas, 
with  those  secondary  ones  involved  in  them,  are  suf- 
ficient for  all  the  purposes  of  the  mind,  unless  it  can 
be  shown,  that  within  these  bounds  some  irresolvable 
link  of  judgments  has  been  overlooked.  We  have  not 
the  ambition  to  try  to  establish,  that  there  can  be  no 


54  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

other  regulative  notions,  but  only  that  these  notions 
are  actual  and  sufficient  for  all  the  objects  of  thought. 
Grant  us  these,  and  the  map  of  the  mind  is  before 
us.  We  see  at  once  the  themes  which  can  occupy  it, 
the  ideas  under  which  all  its  judgments  are  con- 
structed. It  is  something  for  reason  to  thus  mark  t 
out  its  own  bounds ;  and  it  ought  not  to  be  urged 
against  these  results  that  they  do  not  explain  to  us 
why  these  limits,  and  no  others,  are  set  to  the  mind. 


LECTURE  III. 

SPACE   THE    FIELD,    CAUSATION   THE    LAW,    OF    PHYS- 
ICAL  FACTS. 

We  closed  our  last  lecture  with  an  enumeration  of 
the  fixed  or  regulative  ideas  of  the  mind.  As  much 
that  we  are  yet  to  say  will  depend  for  its  correctness 
on  the  correctness  and  completeness  of  this  list,  it 
would  seem  in  order,  to  take  up,  one  by  one,  these 
ideas,  and  to  establish  their  independent,  primitive 
character,  that  the  mind  brings  them  to  its  experi- 
ence for  its  apprehension,  and  does  not  evolve  them 
from  that  experience ;  in  other  words,  that  they  are 
not  to  be  regarded  as  products  in  the  mind  of  outside 
influences,  but  as  original  perceptions  of  the  mind, 
by  which  it  becomes  mind,  a  thinking,  comprehend- 
ing power.  As,  however,  this  separate  consideration 
and  defence  of  these  ideas  have  been  entered  on  by 
us  elsewhere,  and  would  now  greatly  delay  us,  we 
shall  assume  the  correctness  of  the  enumeration,  and 
proceed  to  consider  the  field  of  human  thought  in 
Science,  Philosophy  and  Religion,  as  mapped  out  by 
it. 

Evidently,  if  the  mind  brings  to  its  thinking  these 
primary  conditions,  then  the  entire  form  of  thought, 
the  relations  of  all  the  things  considered  by  us,  will 
be  fixed  by  them,  determined  in  character  by  the 
particular  idea  under  which  they  arise.  These  laws, 
these  organizing  forces  of  the  mind,  will  be  to  the 


$6  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

subjects  considered  by  it,  what  the  cross-lines  of  a 
telescope  are  to  the  objects  that  come  within  its  field ; 
their  position,  motion,  measurement,  in  an  otherwise 
vague  and  indeterminate  space,  are  thereby  estab- 
lished. Observation  thus  assumes  a  precise  form, 
and  produces  exact,  mathematical  results.  As  math- 
ematics enter  the  instrument  with  the  lines,  project- 
ing their  rectitude  into  the  outside  world,  so  appre- 
hension, reason,  enters  the  mind  with  regulative  ideas, 
lining  before  it  the  universe  of  thought.  No  inquiry 
can  be  put  which  does  not  involve  one  or  more  of 
these  notions,  as  the  form  of  the  judgment  which  it 
calls  up.  Where  a  thing  is ;  when  it  is ;  under  what 
form — that  is,  resemblances — it  appears  ;  by  what 
causes  it  is  occasioned,  are  examples  of  leading  aims 
of  investigation. 

The  first  of  these  intuitive  ideas  is  existence.  This 
notion  is  tacitly  present  in  all  thinking,  ready  to  be 
evoked  as  a  direct  object  of  thought  at  any  moment. 
Indeed,  so  instantly  does  the  mind  yield  this  idea  of 
existence,  of  reality,  that  in  reference  to  all  the  things 
actually  present  to  its  senses,  or  its  consciousness,  it 
rarely  puts  it  in  the  form  of  a  judgment.  Does  the 
light  exist  ?  is  a  question  only  made  possible  and 
intelligible  by  its  very  being,  and  the  notion  of  being 
is  inseparable  from  that  which  provokes  the  inquiry. 
When  existence,  however,  is  not  purely  phenomenal 
in  the  world  of  appearances,  but  is  sub-phenomenal 
in  the  world  of  abiding  realities,  the  question  of  being 
assumes  a  different  and  more  difficult  form,  and  we 
have  the  science  of  ontology,  which  inquires  into  the 
reality  of  matter,  of  mind  and  of  God ;  into  the  proof 


SPACE  THE  FIELD,  CAUSATION  THE  LAW,  ETC.       57 

of  their  independent  existence.  Thus  one  of  the 
latest  and  most  perplexing  of  questions  springs  up 
in  connection  with  an  idea,  omnipresent,  and,  in  its 
earlier  forms,  so  simple  as  often  to  involve  its  ac- 
ceptance in  the  mere  direction  of  the  attention  to  it. 

Next  comes  number,  the  root  of  mathematics.  If 
the  notion  of  being  is  primary,  that  of  number  follows 
instantly  upon  it.  Indeed,  only  as  we  pass  out  of  one 
sensation  into  a  second,  from  a  first  attitude  of  mind 
into  a  succeeding  one,  and  are  thus  ready  to  separate 
them  as  numerically  different,  do  we  get  motion, 
thought,  a  play  of  mental  powers.  Moreover,  the 
primitive  character  of  this  idea  of  number  is  seen  in 
the  fact  that  we  so  early  handle  it,  abstractly  from 
all  objects,  all  concrete  relations  ;  and  that  the  cal- 
culations of  the  several  branches  of  pure  mathematics 
are  of  an  exact  character,  which  does  not  and  cannot 
belong  to  them  in  their  practical  or  applied  forms. 
The  units  which  I  add,  subtract,  and  divide,  three 
and  three  of  which  make  six,  and  six  and  six  of  which 
are  equal  to  one  another,  are  units  of  the  mind,  not 
things.  Six  stones  are  not  equal  to  six  other  stones 
in  any  sensible  properties,  nor  are  six  bushels  to  six 
other  bushels.  Indeed,  a  bushel,  meaning  thereby  a 
precise  amount,  never  actually  did  exist  or  will  exist, 
and  will  only  find  an  approximate  existence  according 
to  the  nature  of  the  commodity  and  the  means  of 
measurement.  No  process  in  arithmetic  or  algebra 
applies  exactly  to  any  actual  things  or  transaction. 
A  given  field  does  not  contain  precisely  the  acres 
and  parts  of  an  acre  specified ;  or  the  money  paid  for 
them,  precisely  the  value  indicated.     The  problems  of 


58  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

arithmetic  may  be  shifted,  again  and  again,  in  the  com- 
modities named,  and  yet  the  problem  remain  numer- 
ically the  same.  It  may  be  six  cords  of  wood,  or  six 
yards  of  cloth,  or  six  bushels  of  grain,  that  bring  the 
two  dollars  and  half  per  cord,  or  yard,  or  bushel,  and 
the  calculation  is  unaltered.  The  players  change,  but 
the  play  is  the  same :  nay,  no  set  of  players  exactly 
represent  the  play,  meet  everywhere  its  conditions  ; 
and  this  because  it  comes  to  them  from  abroad — from 
the  creative  realm  of  genius,  and  can  only  find  par-  » 
tial  reproduction  in  those  in  a  measure  ignorant  of  it. 
Thus  all  numerical  processes  have  an  exact,  ideal 
form — a  pure  thought-form,  springing  up  precise  and 
complete  under  the  penetrative,  mathematical  eye, 
while  the  bushels  and  the  barrels,  the  pounds  and 
the  ounces,  the  dollars  and  the  cents,  actually  current 
in  the  inexact,  physical  world,  over-reach  and  fall 
short  of  those  perfect  estimates  of  the  mind.  In- 
deed, to  suit  the  fact,  by  increasing  exactness  of 
measurement,  to  the  garment  of  thought — the  math- 
ematical estimates  under  which  the  mind  would  pre- 
sent it — is  the  ever-returning  labor  of  the  arts.  This 
absolute  identity  between  the  mathematical  units, 
whose  equality  and  relations  are  asserted — this  ac- 
cepting as  units  things  utterly  unlike  and  unequiva- 
lent  to  each  other,  and  by  no  means  one  to  the  senses, 
marks  the  antecedent,  constructive  force  of  the  mind, 
the  power  by  which  it  brings  order,  arrangement, 
relation,  to  its  material,  as  frost  shoots  bars  of  crys- 
tal through  the  congealing  water,  crosses,  unites  and 
compacts  them,  till  the  whole  assumes  definite  and 
beautiful  form. 


SPACE  THE  FIELD,  CAUSATION  THE  LAW,  ETC.       59 

The  third  regulative  idea,  in  our  list,  is  resem- 
blance. First  is  being,  then  multiplicity  of  being, 
then  diversity  of  being.  The  single  does  not  pass 
into  the  plural,  save  through  variety,  agreement  and 
disagreement.  We  have  more  than  one,  and  the 
units  part  from  each  other  in  diverse  positions  and 
qualities.  These  three  are  the  conditions  of  all  forms 
of  existence  ;  but  at  this  point,  there  is  a  division  in 
the  processes  of  mind ;  its  ideas  lose  their  generality, 
and  we  have,  on  the  one  hand,  those  which  group 
and  arrange  external,  physical  existence  ;  and  on  the 
other,  those  which  give  the  conditions  of  being,  and 
the  principles  of  arrangement,  to  internal,  mental 
phenomena. 

Space,  a  position  in  space,  is  the  essential  condi- 
tion and  distinction  of  all  physical  things.  Nothing 
is  in  space,  occupying  it,  conditioned  to  it,  and  de- 
fined within  it,  which  is  not  physical.  A  force  which 
finds  locality  and  expression  in  space,  is  what  is 
meant  by  a  physical  force,  as  distinguished  from  a 
spiritual  one.  Intellectual  force,  thought-force,  on 
the  other  hand,  appears  in  consciousness,  and  there 
only  in  its  strict,  primary  character.  These  two 
forms  of  being,  apprehended  each  under  its  own  idea, 
fall  so  utterly  apart,  are  so  foreign  to  each  other,  that 
we  can  run  no  lines  from  one  to  the  other,  can  place 
the  one  neither  above  nor  below  the  other,  within  or 
without  it.  Each  is  reached  separately,  each  main- 
tains its  integrity,  each  gives  its  own  irresolvable 
phenomena.  A  thing  is  no  more  a  thought  than  a 
thought  is  a  thing.  A  physical  process  and  an  intel- 
lectual product  remain  forever  distinct ;  and  to  iden- 


60  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

tify  one  with  the  other  is  the  loss  of  half  of  the  facts 
of  the  world,  an  oversight  of  the  deepest  and  most 
unchangeable  of  differences,  a  return  to  the  unity  of 
chaos  and  confusion,  not  an  advance  to  that  of  clas- 
sification and  resolution. 

Standing  at  this  dividing  point  of  knowledge,  at 
which  a  true  philosophy  places  us,  we  see  how  the 
inquiries  of  natural  science  and  mental  philosophy 
must  part,  the  one  to  the  right  and  the  other  to  the 
left,  and  remain  forever  occupied  in  distinct  realms, 
and,  as  we  shall  later  see,  with  diverse  and  opposed 
conceptions.  To  clearly  apprehend  this  diversity  of 
directions,  objects  and  methods,  is  a  first  condition 
of  entire  success  in  either  department,  and  in  both 
departments.  Men  first  sought  to  expound  facts, 
facts  of  the  exterior  world,  from  within,  by  a  fanciful 
application  of  the  laws  of  thought,  by  theories  alto- 
gether conjectural,  and  failed.  Later,  delighted  with 
the  results  of  physical  inquiry,  they  have  striven, 
reversing  the  process,  to  carry  the  laws  and  forces  of 
matter  into  mind,  and  are  as  signally  failing.  The 
philosopher  and  physicist  must  part  company,  each 
to  his  respective  field,  waiting  to  meet  again  and 
gather  up  their  completed  inquiries  under  that  final 
and  inclusive  idea — the  infinite,  the  Infinite  One,  from 
whom  both  classes  of  facts  proceed,  and  to  whom 
they  return.  To  this  assertion  there  is  one  most 
essential  qualification.  These  two  lines  of  investiga- 
tion are  parallel ;  these  series  of  events  transpire  in 
one  time,  and  are  in  constant  action  and  reaction. 
Though  we  know  not  how  the  contact  takes  place, 
how  the  transition  is  effected,  yet,  like  two  opposed 


SPACE  THE  FIELD,  CAUSATION  THE  LAW,  ETC.      6 1 

electricities,  they  do  mutually  reach  and  momentarily 
modify  each  other. 

We  now  turn  first  to  those  ideas  which  control  the 
conceptions  of  science.  The  central  one  of  these  is 
space.  Its  primitive  character  is  disclosed  in  the 
way  in  which  the  mind  furnishes  it  forth  according 
to  the  circumstances  and  estimates  present  to  it.  It 
fills  the  recesses  of  the  mirror  with  it  as  if  it  were  a 
window  opening  into  another  world.  It  hangs  in 
the  shallow  stream  a  reversed  concave  with  its  in- 
verted trees,  pendant  mountains,  and  distinct  clouds  ; 
it  enlarges  the  elastic  painting  into  a  landscape,  and 
pushes  it  back  in  remote  vistas  and  dim  perspective ; 
it  furnishes  airy  stretches  as  the  field  of  visions,  and 
the  arena  of  dreams  ;  and  in  this  actual  world  of  ours, 
of  fixed  bounds  and  immutable  measurements,  will 
extinguish  one  conception,  and  flash  in  another,  on 
some  change  in  the  conditions  of  judgment,  with  as 
much  ease  and  rapidity  as  additional  gas  is  inflamed 
in  the  burners.  Space,  combined  with  number,  opens 
up  new  branches  of  mathematics.  Geometry  is  an 
a-priori  science.  Though  mathematics  take  their 
rise  in  number,  which  is  an  idea  common  to  mental 
phenomena,  it  receives  such  enlargement  in  connec- 
tion with  space  as  to  turn  its  almost  entire  power,  as 
a  means  of  inquiry  and  progress,  in  the  direction  of 
physical  science,  rather  than  of  philosophy.  The 
units  of  space  are  so  perfect  and  so  varied,  and  so 
important  in  their  practical  connections,  that  mathe- 
matics at  once  lay  hold  of  them  with  great  power  and 
scope.  Not  only  have  we  the  direct  measurements 
of  space,  but  many  indirect  applications.     Thus  the 


62  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

intensity  of  heat  is  shown  by  the  vertical  range  of 
the  thermometer  ;  the  weight  of  the  air  by  that  of 
the  barometer ;  the  presence  of  heat  or  electricity 
by  the  play  of  an  index  along  a  graded  circle  :  in  a 
multitude  of  ways  the  nature  of  forces  and  their  de- 
grees are  resolved  for  the  eye  into  a  movement  in* 
space. 

The  primitive  power  of  the  mind,  its  action,  inde- 
pendent of  experience,  is  abundantly  shown  in  Geom- 
etry. First,  there  are  axioms,  self-evident  truths. 
Now  no  truth  can  be  self-evident  that  is  derived 
from  experience  through  sensation.  It  is  not  self- 
evident  that  an  ox-eyed  daisy  is  white  ;  that  a  butter- 
cup is  yellow ;  or  that  a  stone  falls  to  the  ground. 
Again,  the  proofs  of  geometry  are  single,  yet  absolute. 
A  proposition  enunciated  for  the  first  time,  and  es- 
tablished by  a  single  line  of  argument,  is  yet  demon- 
strative. No  proof  resting  on  one  instance  in  expe- 
rience approaches  demonstration.  Plainly,  the  mind 
relies  on  its  own  insight  in  the  one  case,  as  it  does 
not  in  the  other.  Again,  the  conceptions  of  geom- 
etry are  not  those  of  the  senses.  Its  lines  have  no 
breadth ;  its  planes,  no  thickness  ;  its  circles,  no 
defects  ;  its  centres,  nothing  save  position.  These 
are  all  super-sensual  conceptions,  wholly  alien  to  ex- 
perience. Once  more,  it  makes  assertions  that  no 
experience  can  verify — as  that  an  hyperbola  will 
never  meet  its  asymptote,  or  a  parallel  line  its  fellow  ; 
and  it  conceives  and  discusses  curves  with  fulness 
and  exactness  wholly,  or  almost  wholly,  unknown 
to  observation.  This  primitive,  organic  power  of  the 
mind — a  fact  to  which  we  are  willing  often  to  return, 


SPACE  THE  FIELD,  CAUSATION  THE  LAW,  ETC.       63 

as  it  is  so  important  in  itself,  and  so  constantly  de- 
nied— is  wonderfully  disclosed  in  mathematics.  The 
great  geometrician  is  so  almost  wholly  by  the  force 
of  his  own  conceptions,  unaided  by  external  objects. 
Mathematics  might  take  their  birth,  and  reach  well 
nigh  their  completion,  in  the  solitude  and  darkness 
of  a  cell,  were  it  not  that  the  mind  will  not  accept 
excessive  development  in  one  direction  unsustained 
by  kindred  growth  in  others.  In  the  fact,  that  math- 
ematics are  thus  rooted  in  the  intuitive  ideas  of  the 
mind,  we  see  an  explanation  of  the  fact,  that  this 
branch  is  so  frequently  pursued  to  advantage  early 
in  life,  and  a  justification  in  education  of  that  scheme 
of  studies  which  assigns  them  a  prominent  position. 
Mathematics  do  easily,  naturally,  come  before  much 
observation,  much  science ;  and  this  fact  reveals 
their  independence  of  experience,  and  their  necessity 
for  its  interpretation.  The  conclusion  we  have  now 
theoretically  reached  from  a  study  of  the  powers  of 
the  mind,  conforms  to  that  disclosed  by  our  familiar 
experience  in  the  growth  of  knowledge. 

But  space  also  furnishes  the  field  in  which  physi- 
cal facts  appear.  We  now  pass  to  causation,  which 
chiefly  determines  their  character.  The  notion  of 
cause  and  effect,  or  the  conviction  of  the  mind  that 
every  effect  has,  must  have,  a  cause,  requires  thorough 
and  careful  discussion,  since  on  a  right  apprehension 
of  its  nature  and  validity  will  depend  the  correctness 
of  much  of  our  philosophy  ;  the  strength  and  fitness 
of  that  net-work  of  connections  wherewith  the  mind 
unites  and  explains  the  things  about  it.  There  is 
always  some  spider-web  of  thought,  spun  from  within, 


64  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

that  beads  together  in  beautiful  array  those  dew- 
drops,  those  separate  facts,  that  the  scientific  inquiry 
of  the  time  has  condensed  and  ensphered  in  the 
otherwise  indeterminate  realm  of  thought.  We  first 
inquire,  What  is  this  notion  ?  It  is  not  one  of  ante- 
cedence. The  visible  antecedent  is  not  the  cause  of 
the  effect  which  follows  it,  but  one  in  a  chain  of 
effects.  A  strict  cause  is  always  cotemporaneous 
with  the  effect.  The  effect  is  its  immediate,  mani- 
fest expression.  That  is  to  say,  the  mind  puts  back 
of  every  phenomena,  everything  that  appears,  every 
event  that  transpires,  something,  some  force,  which 
causes  it  to  appear  and  transpire.  Fragments  of 
rock  are  flying  in  the  air  in  consequence  of  the  ex- 
plosion of  a  blast.  The  immediate  cause  of  this 
momentary  effect  is  the  propelling  force  conceived 
of  as  lodged  in  each  of  the  pieces,  and  ready  to  be 
delivered  by  it  to  any  object  which  it  may  hit. 
When  oxygen  and  hydrogen  unite  to  form  water, 
the  cause  of  the  water  is  the  constant  and  sustained 
action  of  the  two  gases  in  union.  Each  gas,  so  far 
as  it  presents  itself  to  the  senses,  or  responds  to 
chemical  tests,  is  an  effect,  an  appearance,  a  phe- 
nomenon, whose  cause  is  found  in  the  very  nature, 
that  is  the  invisible  force  or  power,  of  the  gas.  The 
mind  compels  us  to  go  back  of  these  permanent  man- 
ifestations, to  some  permanent  existence  which  is 
their  occasion  or  cause  ;  and  of  transient  appear- 
ances to  transient  forces  whose  momentary  action 
has  produced  them.  Popular  language,  while  includ- 
ing this  exact  notion  of  a  cause,  finds  it  convenient 
to  extend  very  much  the  use  of  the  word ;  and  hence 


SPACE  THE  FIELD,  CAUSATION  THE  LAW,  ETC.       65 

arises  some  confusion,  and  the  need  of  re-directing 
our  attention  to  the  precise,  philosophical  meaning 
of  language.  An  antecedent  effect  is  very  frequently 
spoken  of  as  a  cause.  Thus,  the  explosion  of  the 
gunpowder  is  said  to  be  the  cause  of  the  shattered 
and  scattered  rocks,  because  this  explosion  was  one 
of  the  striking  antecedent  effects,  which  serves  cor- 
rectly to  direct  the  mind  to  the  entire  nature  of  the 
process.  With  a  little  more  liberty  of  speech,  the 
drilling  of  the  stone  and  the  tamping  of  the  powder, 
are  said  to  be  the  causes,  since  they  also  lie  in  the 
line  of  previous  effects.  Proceeding  in  the  same 
loose  way,  the  person  who  hired  and  directed  the 
workmen,  is  said  to  be  the  cause  of  the  result.  In- 
deed, anything  which  immediately  or  more  remotely 
constituted  a  portion  of  the  previous  effects,  may  be 
said  to  be  a  cause  of  those  effects.  Even  further,  the 
motive  which  one  has  in  view  in  performing  an  ac- 
tion is  sometimes  mentioned  as  its  cause.  Thus  the 
cause  of  removing  or  blasting  the  rocks,  is  said  to  be, 
that  the  line  of  a  railroad  might  be  established.  Yet 
even  popular  speech  has  here  a  preference  for  the 
word  reason,  and  feels  the  strain  put  upon  the  notion 
of  a  cause.  The  last  word  ranges  rather  along  the 
line  of  previous  effects,  and  has  there  always  a  tacit 
reference  to  the  forces  which  underlie  them,  and 
which  they  conveniently  serve  to  designate.  The 
true  cause,  then,  is  always  unseen,  unfelt,  beyond  the 
range  of  the  senses,  and  is  uniformly  evoked  to  ex- 
plain that  within  the  senses.  It  stands  to  phenom- 
ena as  the  interior  of  a  globe  to  its  superfices  ;  as 
the  river  to  the  ice  which  conceals  it.     The  inside  is 


66  SCIENCE,   PHILOSOPHY  AND   RELIGION. 

always  inferred  from  the  outside  ;  the  bed  of  the  river 
from  its  upper  layer ;  the  depths  of  the  ocean  from 
its  surface  ;  and  the  consecutive  flow  of  causes  from 
their  coherent,  visible  effects.  Causes  are  thus  solely 
reached  through  the  mind,  and  not  through  the  sen- 
ses ;  are  the  result  of  the  mind's  action  in  supplying 
an  explanation  of  that  which  arises  in  the  senses. 
If  it  were  said  that  solids  are  made  up  only  of  sur- 
faces, the  senses  merely  could  not  contradict  the  as- 
sertion, since  it  is  only  the  outside  that  is  ever  seen, 
felt,  tasted.  What  is  interior,  while  it  remains  in- 
terior, is  forever  beyond  them,  and  is  only  a  matter 
of  inference,  and  that,  too,  as  we  shall  readily  see, 
under  this  very  notion  of  cause  and  effect.  We 
believe  the  body  to  be  solid,  because  its  weight  is 
thus  explained.  Again,  the  cause  and  effect  mutually 
measure  and  define  each  other.  The  effect  expresses 
the  cause,  the  whole  of  it,  and  no  more  ;  and  identity 
of  effects,  proves  identity  of  causes,  and  identity  of 
causes  necessitates  identity  of  effects.  All  our  rea- 
sonings in  mechanics,  chemistry,  physics,  imply  this, 
rest  upon  "it.  If  the  same  causes  could  issue  in  new 
effects,  or  the  same  effects  be  referred  to  different 
causes,  there  would  be  an  end  to  safe  reasoning  in 
these  provinces.  The  word  cause,  however,  must 
now  be  carefully  used  in  its  exact  meaning,  and  not 
in  its  popular  sense.  This  measurement  of  the  one 
by  the  other  is  involved  in  the  general  axiom  of  this 
notion,  to  wit :  that  every  effect  must  have  a  cause. 
If  there  is  a  change  in  the  effect,  that  change  is  itself 
an  effect,  and  must  have  a  cause,  that  is,  another,  or 
new,  or  modified  cause  :  hence,  with  a  changed  effect, 


SPACE  THE  FIELD,  CAUSATION  THE  LAW,  ETC.      67 

the  cause  cannot  remain  unchanged.  On  the  other 
hand,  if  the  effect  remains  the  same,  the  cause  cannot 
be  increased,  diminished  or  modified,  since  this  change 
can  only  be  shown,  proved  in  the  effect,  and  this,  by 
the  supposition,  presents  no  change.  Such  is  the 
nature  of  a  cause.  Its  chief  features  are,  that  it  co- 
exists with  the  effect,  is  invisible,  insensible,  and  is 
exactly  equivalent  to  it,  expressed  in  it  in  kind  and 
degree. 

We  next  inquire,  Where  is  this  notion  of  the  mind 
applicable  ?  Does  it  cover  all  phenomena,  or  only 
physical  phenomena  ?  This  is  a  most  important 
question,  and  a  wrong  answer,  practically,  if  not  the- 
oretically, given,  has  involved  endless  mischief,  and 
led  to  the  loss  of  fundamental  truths  in  philosophy. 
If  it  is  universally  applicable,  a  law  of  mind  every- 
where, then  it  necessarily  excludes  liberty ;  since 
this  involves  a  totally  different  principle.  It  equally 
excludes  the  existence  of  an  Omnipotent  Being,  since 
no  amount  of  finite  effects  can  otherwise  than  estab- 
lish a  finite  cause,  and  moreover  a  cause  of  the  same 
nature  with  the  effects,  to  wit  :  a  physical  and  im- 
personal one.  The  universe  exactly  expresses  God, 
under  this  notion  or  principle  of  the  mind,  and  hence 
God  has  no  being  beyond,  or  more  than,  that  which 
is  found  as  present  force  in  the  universe.  We  be- 
lieve more  careful  consideration  will  show  that  this 
law  of  the  mind  has  sway  only  among  physical  things, 
in  space,  and  is  not  a  law  of  pure,  spiritual  phenom- 
ena, of  consciousness.  Our  conception  of  matter, 
material  force,  as  opposed  to  mind,  spiritual  force, 
is,  that  it  has  a  fixed,  determinate  existence,  without 


68  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

spontaneity  or  resources.  Matter  is  an  uttered  force, 
one  realized,  and  in  its  very  realization  has  been 
defined  and  fixed  forever.  It  has  gone  forth  from 
the  region  of  spontaneity,  and,  like  the  weight,  the 
hand  of  man  has  attached  to  a  machine,  presses  with 
a  settled  amount.  It  is  between  physical  effects  and 
physical  forces  that  the  mind  affirms  this  perfect  co- 
existence, and  absolute  equivalence,  and  not  of  its 
own  acts  ;  except  so  far  as  they  have  touched  the 
physical  world,  appeared  as  force  in  it.  The  gauge 
of  a  steam-engine  measures  the  exact  pressure  pres- 
ent, and  there  is  then  and  there  no  spontaneity,  no 
potential  pressure  possible :  the  thoughts  and  voli- 
tion of  the  mind  express  a  state  or  condition  of  it, 
but  do  not  wholly  contain  or  exhaust  the  being  of  the 
soul.  Our  practical  judgments  are  in  entire  consist- 
ency with  this  view.  We  trace  physical  forces  from 
one  stage  to  another,  and,  when  we  stop,  stop  with  a 
still  further  inquiry  on  our  lips.  We  feel  that  every 
stage  of  the  force  is  only  a  stage,  and  not  a  start,  and 
we  wait  a  convenient  opportunity  to  pursue  the 
thread  of  connection  further.  On  the  other  hand, 
when  a  force  has  been  referred  to  a  free  agent,  we 
feel  that  it  has  found  arrest,  and  the  most  stubborn 
necessitarian,  even,  practically  suffers  the  inquiry 
there  to  repose.  If  a  building  has  been  fired  by 
physical  forces,  we  investigate  these,  pushing  back- 
ward, step  by  step ;  if  by  an  incendiary,  we  check 
the  inquiry  with  this  discovery ;  or  throw  it  forward, 
not  backward,  in  a  search  for  his  motives.  The 
principle  of  causation,  then,  as  a  fixed  law,  is  as- 
signed by  the  mind  to  the  fixed  realm  of  physical 


SPACE  THE  FIELD,  CAUSATION  THE  LAW,  ETC.      69 

facts,  and  not  to  what  it  itself  recognizes  as  the 
creative,  spontaneous  realm  of  spirit.  No  notion  is 
of  universal  application,  but  each  has  its  province. 
Causation  attaches  to  forces,  and  force  belongs — it 
is  only  by  figure  of  speech  that  we  speak  of  thought- 
force — to  space,  the  realm  of  physical  events. 

We  next  seek  for  that  in  the  physical  world  which 
rests  upon  this  notion  of  causation.  All  our  knowl- 
edge of  the  world  about  us,  as  a  visible,  extended,  out- 
side world,  is  to  be  referred  to  it.  The  world  without 
distances  is  like  a  wrapped  up  tent,  comes  collapsing 
in  on  our  senses,  yet  distance  is  a  matter  of  inference 
from  observation.  By  experience,  we  learn  that  cer- 
tain impressions  are  due  to  near,  and  others  to  re- 
mote, objects,  and  from  these  effects  we  infer  the 
nature  of  the  causes  which  produces  them,  the 
dimensions  and  relations  of  the  objects  before  us. 
Familiarity  and  rapidity  hide  these  judgments  from 
us — this  approach  to  facts,  to  causes,  through  their 
variable  effects,  but  perception  does  not  thereby  lose 
its  character,  as  tacitly  involving  a  large  amount  of 
inference ;  all  that  inference  by  which  the  earth  is 
spread  out  in  a  vast  plain  under  our  feet,  and  the 
heavens  pitched  in  incredible  and  immeasurable 
depths  above  us.  Many  things  illustrate  this  com- 
plex, inferential  action  of  the  mind  in  sensation.  A 
portrait  does  not  present  its  object  to  us  as  large 
or  small  according  to  its  own  actual  size.  In  a 
stereoscopic  picture  a  slight  deception  is  so  prac- 
tised upon  the  eyes,  that  we  seem  to  see  massive, 
public  buildings,  broad  streets,  and  the  dimensions 
of  great  cities.     The  spaces  then  of  the  visible  uni- 


JO  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

verse  arise  under  an  instantaneous  interpretation  of 
effects,  through  a  protracted  and  growing  knowledge 
of  causes.  But  not  only  are  the  scope  and  majesty 
of  the  visible  world  due  to  this  idea,  our  entire  belief 
in  the  invisible  world  rests  upon  it.  Phenomena, 
sights,  sounds,  sensations,  are  underlaid  with  real, 
permanent  existences  ;  settled,  established,  consecu- 
tive forces,  by  this  notion  of  causation.  Without 
this,  our  life  would  be  a  waking  dream,  distinguish- 
able only  from  other  dreams  by  distinctness  of  im- 
pression. All  sense  of  reality,  of  valid  being,  per- 
manent powers,  and  immutable  conditions,  all  that  in 
its  extreme  form  passes  over  into  the  notion  of  fixed 
fate,  an  existence  not  to  be  escaped  in  itself  or  its 
circumstances,  springs  from  causation.  Those  events, 
which  toss  us  constantly  from  one  to  another,  those 
fickle,  flexible  waves,  dallying  with  every  wind,  and 
sporting  with  the  shallop  of  our  life — perfect  images 
of  mutability,  are  nevertheless  sustained  in  thought, 
by  the  deep,  silent,  unchangeable  recesses  of  being, 
as  fixed  in  their  quiet  repose  and  equipoise  as  the 
mountain  centres.  We  are  anchored  and  held  firm 
in  the  universe  of  God  by  this  notion  of  causation. 

Again,  all  reasoning  concerning  nature,  all  rational 
knowledge  of  nature,  rests  on  the  idea  of  cause  and 
effect.  If  there  are  no  causes,  no  effects,  then  each 
thing  and  event  is  a  grain  of  sand,  unapproachable 
through  any  other,  unaffected  by  any  other.  No 
explanation  can  be  offered  of  the  existence  and  form 
of  any  facts,  since  these  are  perfectly  independent  of 
everything  else.  Nothing  has  affected  them,  they 
affect  nothing,  and  the  mind  can  branch  out  from  no 


SPACE  THE  FIELD,  CAUSATION  THE  LAW,  ETC.      7 1 

one  of  them  in  lines  of  connection  or  government 
The  universe  becomes  a  mass  of  disconnected  facts, 
mere  thrums  cut  short  in  all  directions,  its  dependen- 
cies, figments  of  the  head.  It  is  of  no  avail  to  say, 
that  stated  antecedents  can  take  the  place  of  causes. 
They  cannot  do  so,  and  give  the  mind  any  reason  or 
explanation  of  their  presence.  The  antecedent  is 
unaffected  by  the  consequent ;  the  consequent  has 
no  dependence  on  the  antecedent,  and  the  conjunc- 
tion, if  apt,  is  a  new  ground  of  difficulty  and  surprise. 
Neither  can  the  materialist,  rejecting  this  idea  of 
causation,  explain  from  fixed  sequences  merely,  any 
anticipation  he  may  have  of  the  future.  That  things 
have  been  together  without  ground  and  dependence, 
is  no  reason  from  which  to  infer  that  they  will  be 
together  in  like  manner  again  ;  but  rather  the  reverse, 
since  accidental  conjunctions  are  conceived  of  by  us 
as  changeable.  Nor  is  the  mere  fact  of  a  repeated 
concurrence  of  phenomena,  as  heat  and  light,  a 
ground  of  expecting  their  continued  occurrence  be- 
cause of  the  effect  of  this  repetition  on  the  mind. 
What  right  has  the  materialist  to  talk  of  an  effect 
on  the  mind  of  ever-returning  facts,  if  he  admits  no 
effects  and  no  causes  ?  No,  all  the  connections  of 
events,  and  hence  reasoning  concerning  events,  are 
sundered  by  the  rejection  of  this  idea  ;  and  we  might 
as  well  expect  a  man  to  walk  with  every  muscle  di- 
vided, as  the  mind  to  think  about  physical  events, 
explain  and  anticipate  them,  with  the  conviction  that 
there  is  no  causal  dependence  between  them.  Not 
only  can  nothing  be  understood  which  happens  in 
nature  on  the  materialistic  view,  no  explanation  can 


72  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

be  offered  of  any  of  the  actions  of  men  in  connection 
with  it.  Motives,  ends  in  view,  cannot  be  assigned 
as  reasons  for  any  undertaking :  for  an  undertaking 
implies  a  dependence  of  results  on  the  means  to  be 
employed,  a  pursuit  of  objects  through  appropriate 
efforts,  and  these  involve  causation.  Reason,  there- 
fore, falls  away  from  human  conduct,  just  in  the  de- 
gree in  which  causation  disappears  from  nature,  and 
the  rationality  of  our  lives  is  lost,  withers  under  this 
one  central  stroke  of  severance  and  division  of  the 
universe  of  God  from  the  root  of  force  and  purpose 
whence  it  springs.  When  forces  fail  to  execute  pur- 
poses, purposes  must  fail  of  conception  or  be  born  to 
imbecility. 

Once  more ;  our  sense  of  the  perpetuity  of  nature 
rests  chiefly  on  causation.  A  certain  quota,  comple- 
ment of  forces,  causes,  combined  in  a  definite  method, 
are  found  in  the  world  about  us.  These  remaining, 
nature,  in  her  present  results  and  laws,  will  remain. 
We  have,  therefore,  an  expectation  of  the  permanence 
of  these,  so  long  as  the  plan  which  includes  them 
shall  require  them.  There  is  a  fixed,  expressed  pur- 
pose in  nature,  and  we  anticipate  its  accomplishment ; 
a  method,  and  we  wait  for  its  uniform  development. 
What  is  this  instant  in  the  universe  is  fitted  to  carry 
it  forward  for  an  indefinite  period,  and  those,  there- 
fore, who  predicate  a  change,  have  the  burden  of  proof 
resting  on  them  to  show  the  grounds  and  reasons  of 
it.  These  are  to  be  found,  if  found  at  all,  not  in 
causes  themselves,  not  in  the  world  itself,  but  in  the 
purposes  of  God. 

Such  is  the  nature  and  application  of  the  notion  of 


SPACE  THE  FIELD,  CAUSATION  THE  LAW,  ETC.       73 

causation,  and  such  a  portion  of  the  purposes  sub- 
served by  it.  What,  then,  is  its  proof?  How  do  we 
know  the  action  of  the  mind  to  be  valid  in  affirming 
causes,  in  habitually  uniting  events  by  underlying 
forces  ?  We  answer,  as  this  is  a  necessary  and  con- 
stant action  of  the  mind,  it  is  of  the  nature  known  as 
ultimate,  or  axiomatic.  It  is  as  much  an  axiom,  that 
there  is  a  reason  or  cause  for  the  fall  of  a  meteor  to 
the  ground,  as  it  is  that  a  straight  line  is  the  shortest 
path  between  two  points.  Neither  of  these  state- 
ments call  for  any  further  proof,  and  for  precisely  the 
same  reason ;  the  mind  is  adequate  to  this  knowl- 
edge, and  this  knowledge  is  ultimate  with  it.  If  a 
man  requires  proof  that  he  sees,  we  can  give  him  no 
other  proof  than  to  let  him  see  again.  If  he  denies 
pain  to  be  painful,  we  have  only  to  repeat  the  pain 
till  he  thinks  differently  of  it.  If  equals  added  to 
equals  do  not  make  equals,  there  must  be  added  till 
they  do,  or  nothing  can  be  done  for  a  mind  so  awry. 
Accepting  axioms  is  like  adjusting  a  field-glass  to  its 
focus.  Our  labor  cannot  proceed  till  this  is  accom- 
plished. If  events  can  be  accepted  without  causes, 
then  the  mind  so  regarding  them  is  incapacitated  to 
reason  concerning  them  ;  since,  as  already  shown, 
reasoning,  conclusions,  rest  on  valid  connections, 
efficient  forces,  determining  events  to  be  thus  and 
not  otherwise.  The  ultimate,  axiomatic  action  of  the 
mind  in  assigning  causes,  is  evinced  by  its  constancy 
and  universality.  Neither  Mill  nor  Spencer,  nor  any 
philosopher,  through  mere  philosophy,  has  ever  been 
able  to  force  his  thinking  into  any  other  channel. 
Their  works  are  saturated  with  causation.  Their 
4 


74  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

explanations  everywhere  involve  it.  They  would  not 
be  content  to  say,  the  night  and  the  day,  the  light 
and  the  heat,  are  as  they  are,  because  of  a  stated 
antecedence.  Indeed,  what  is  this  very  word,  be- 
cause, by  a  cause,  in  such  a  connection,  but  a  sub- 
orned witness.  Says  Hume — an  early  advocate  of 
stated  antecedence,  one  of  the  most  penetrating 
minds  that  ever  employed  the  materialistic  doc- 
trines, and  who  uniformly  used  them  merely  as  the 
weapons  of  an  iconoclast,  striking  down  the  beliefs 
of  men,  while  confessing  a  philosophical  inability  to 
supply  their  place — "  Allow  me  to  tell  you,  that  I 
never  asserted  so  absurd  a  proposition  as  that  any 
thing  might  arise  without  a  cause."  He  then  pro- 
ceeds to  say  that  his  real  difficulty  lies  with  the  proof 
of  causation.  Is  there  not  here  a  plain  missing  of 
the  point,  a  falling  off  from  true  philosophy,  when 
one  can  regard  the  assertion  as  absurd,  that  anything 
arises  without  a  cause,  and  still  call  for  the  proof  of 
causation  ?  What  is  an  absurdity  but  something- 
contrary  to  a  primitive,  necessary  conviction  ?  And 
what  constitutes  our  strongest  and  best  proofs,  but 
primitive,  necessary  convictions  ?  Why  are  the  con- 
clusions of  mathematics  demonstrative,  save  because 
they  rest  wholly  on  these  convictions  ?  Mill's  defin- 
ition of  matter,  carefully  worded,  so  as  to  avoid  the 
implication  of  underlying  forces,  of  causes,  neverthe- 
'  less  involves  them.  It  is  this — "  A  permanent  pos- 
sibility of  sensations." 

Now,  what  is  a  possibility,  but  something  which 
will  happen  on  the  meeting  of  certain  conditions  ? 
And  how  can  we  conceive  conditions  to  be  condi- 


SPACE  THE  FIELD,  CAUSATION  THE  LAW,  ETC.       75 

tions,  except  as  they  determine  the  action  of  forces  ? 
As  far  as  any  apprehension  or  rational  explanation 
of  the  mind  is  concerned,  the  hand  might  as  well  be 
stretched  in  one  direction  as  in  another,  if  in  neither 
direction  there  is  any  agent  or  force  whose  effects  it 
is  to  feel.  Say  to  a  blind  man,  there  is  a  permanent 
possibility  of  your  being  burnt  if  you  put  your  hand 
down,  and  he  will  ask  you,  why.  If  you  cannot  re- 
spond there  is  hot  iron  in  this  direction  and  not  in 
that,  a  fire  here,  there  is  not  yonder,  reason  is  con- 
founded, and  apprehension  at  an  end.  Men  have 
wandered  so  far  from  the  truth,  because  it  is  so 
simple  and  so  near  them.  They  have  only  to  see, 
only  to  think,  and  they  prefer  to  philosophise,  till 
philosophy  swallows  up  simple  sight  and  the  primi- 
tive conditions  of  thought.  Philosophy  has  more 
often  swept  away  the  facts  it  has  been  brought  for- 
ward to  expound,  than  presented  them  in  their  first 
force  and  authority.  Yet  philosophy,  false  and  in- 
sufficient, is  the  road  to  philosophy,  just  and  com- 
plete, and  this  philosophy  it  is  that  lays  bare  the 
foundations  of  knowledge,  and  gives  to  the  eye  and 
the  mind  what  before  was  assured  to  the  foot  and 
hand.  There  is  in  the  part,  which  this  notion  of 
cause  and  effect  plays  in  knowledge,  a  signal  illus- 
tration of  the  dependence  of  physical  science  on  a 
sound  philosophy.  The  fundamental  link  between 
all  facts,  the  connection  of  thought  which  every  sci- 
entific theory  from  least  to  greatest  is  employing,  has 
been  denied  to  physical  inquiries,  as  invalid,  fanciful 
and  metaphysical ;  yet  physicists  have  adopted  and 
urged  forward  that   materialism,  one  of  whose  first 


J6  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

achievements  is  to  dissolve  into  independent,  unco- 
hesive  points  of  vapor,  this  compacted  and  consoli- 
dated universe,  woven  and  knit  together  from  side 
to  side,  welded  and  riveted  together  from  end  to  end 
with  cords  and  bars  of  force.  To  be  sure,  they  have 
matched  their  blindness  on  one  side  by  a  more  for- 
tunate blindness  on  the  other  ;  and  having  accepted 
materialism,  they  have  forthwith  forgotten  their  al- 
legiance to  it,  in  a  fresh  enthusiasm  for  physical  pur- 
suits, as  earnestly  tracing  causes  and  delighting  in 
them,  as  if  these  had  not  just  been  pronounced,  by 
those  who  lay  down  for  them  the  laws  of  thought, 
mere  illusions,  Will-o'-the-wisps.  Thus  the  physicist, 
again  and  again,  strikes  the  foundation  from  beneath 
his  own  labors,  yet  goes  on  to  build,  employing  any 
leisure  moment  that  may  fall  to  him  in  deriding 
metaphysics,  of  whose  most  unfortunate  and  gro- 
tesque results  he  presents  the  most  unfortunate  and 
grotesque  example. 

Again,  we  see  in  this  notion  one  of  the  clearest 
illustrations  of  the  weakness  of  materialism  in  deriv- 
ing all  knowledge  from  experience,  in  regarding  the 
powers  of  mind  as  simply  the  reflex  product  of  mate- 
rial forces.  Are  we  to  expect  putty  to  become  lucid, 
pearly,  opalescent,  by  the  protracted  shining  of  the 
sun  upon  it  ?  Brilliants  catch  the  light  in  their  first 
making  up,  or  fail  of  it  forever.  Crystalline  struct- 
ure implies  primitive,  crystalline  power.  The  mind, 
by  its  own  native  penetration,  with  powers  that  make 
it  to  be  mind,  threads  the  phenomenal  universe  to- 
gether by  forces  and  agencies  that  never  reveal  them- 
selves in  the  senses  ;  but,  waiting  spirits  of  thought, 


SPACE  THE  FIELD,  CAUSATION  THE  LAW,  ETC.       *]*] 

stand  ready,  by  explanation,  revelation,  illumination, 
to  do  service  amid  things  otherwise  dark,  opaque, 
intractable,  dead.  The  real  majesty  of  the  mind  is 
only  apprehensible  as  we  see  it  thus  reach,  build  up, 
and  expound  this  substantial  world  of  existences 
about  us  out  of  the  slight  suggestions  of  the  senses, 
that,  like  a  torch  in  the  night,  cast  a  few  gleams  of 
flickering,  ghostly  light  on  the  things  nearest  them. 
The  animal  that  lives  in  the  centre  of  a  circle  of  sen- 
suous impressions — a  circle,  a  few  inches,  or  feet,  or 
miles,  in  diameter — stands  in  what  contrast  with  man, 
to  whom  the  visible  is  but  the  symbol  and  suggestion 
of  that  vast,  invisible  procession  that  hourly  troops 
before  his  inner  vision,  and  makes  him  the  companion 
of  unseen  forces,  dealing  ever  with  unknown  agents, 
lodged  in  the  matter  about  him,  as  ideas  are  con- 
tained in  words !  He  puts  his  hand  to  the  lever, 
that  he  may  impart  force ;  he  draws  near  the  fire, 
that  he  may  receive  heat ;  he  opens  his  eyes,  that 
he  may  catch  light  from  out-lying  stars  ;  he  lets  go 
the  magnetic  needle,  that  it  may  feel  attractions  that 
run  from  pole  to  pole  ;  he  touches  the  telegraph,  that 
he  may  send  thought ;  he  administers  a  remedy,  that 
he  may  quicken  life.  Everywhere  he  is  in  fellowship 
with  the  subtle  spirits  that  do  the  bidding  of  his 
Heavenly  Father.  Such  is  man,  because  such  is 
mind  in  its  primitive  powers,  in  the  image  wherein 
it  was  at  the  first  fashioned  ;  because  it  pauses  not  a 
moment  on  the  film  of  being,  but  presses  inward  in 
belief  of  its  realities,  and  in  fellowship  with  them,  as 
substantial  as  they,  as  substantial  as  their  common 
Author.     The  bit  of  mirrors  that  gives  back  the  sky 


yS  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

to  the  sky  were  as  marvellous  as  man,  if  man  stood 
only  in  passive,  dumb  reflection  of  the  world  about 
him  ;  if  thought  and  truth  crept  into  him  as  light 
into  a  crsytal.  It  is  because  light,  comprehension, 
construction  go  forth  from  him  ;  because  by  the  touch  - 
of  his  commanding  thought  he  builds  up  this  valid  k 
universe,  not  too  large  for  his  intellect,  not  too  grand 
for  his  emotions,  from  the  ephemeral  appearances 
that  come  and  go  around  him  ;  because  he  penetrates 
beneath  the  transient  states  of  his  constantly  flowing, 
his  infinitely  flexible,  experiences,  and  predicates  of 
himself  permanent  being,  immortality,  that  he  stands 
revealed  the  heir  of  all  truth,  of  the  spaces  and 
years  in  which  his  thoughts  so  freely,  with  such 
primitive  ownership,  rove  ;  because,  reading  the  pur- 
poses of  Heaven  in  their  execution,  rising  on  the 
present  hour,  the  bower  of  the  senses,  as  a  little 
island  in  the  great  sea,  he  proceeds  to  overlook  the 
undisclosed  eternity,  to  declare  where  land  is  to  be 
found,  where  lie  elysian  fields,  the  wealth  of  new  con- 
tinents ;  to  clothe  himself  with  the  faith  and  courage 
of  a  voyager,  and,  in  obedience  to  the  law  and  the 
hope  within  him,  to  launch  forth,  not  to  ground  his 
keel  again,  save  on  the  shores  of  the  now  invisible 
world. 


LECTURE  IV. 

RESEMBLANCE   NOT   THE    SOLE    LAW    OF   THOUGHT. 

In  our  last  lecture,  we  spoke  chiefly  of  causation, 
The  discussion  is  not  yet  complete.  Materialism 
has  not  brushed  aside  this  notion  without  a  vigorous 
effort  to  supply  its  place.  It  has  been  a  great  gain 
to  sound  philosophy,  that  the  idea  of  cause  and  effect 
is  so  obviously  beyond  all  observation  that  few  mate- 
rialists have  even  attempted  to  derive  it  from  experi- 
ence, but  have  been  compelled  to  reject  it  as  plainly 
not  so  to  be  reached.  The  great  void  in  thought 
thus  made  has  been  left  vacant,  or  filled  up  with 
stated  antecedents,  according  as  the  parties  who  have 
occasioned  it  have  been  destructive  or  constructive 
in  their  tendencies — simply  sceptical,  or  ambitious 
of  a  new  philosophy.  The  constructive,  creative 
spirit  has  decidedly  predominated  in  the  later  phases 
of  materialism,  and  such  men  as  Mill,  Spencer  and 
Bain,  have  striven  to  give  a  consistent  substratum,  a 
sufficient  connection,  to  thought  without  the  idea  of 
causation.  This  effort  is  deliberately,  patiently,  and 
powerfully  made  in  Spencer's  Principles  of  Psychol- 
ogy. It  rests  on  the  notion  of  resemblance,  which  is 
contained  in,  which  necessarily  underlies,  that  of 
stated  antecedents.  Like  antecedents  imply  or  give 
promise  of  like  consequents,  and  hence  the  whole 
attention  of  science,  of  thought,  is  to  be  directed  to 
likeness,  to  resemblances,  as  the  real  thread  of  order 
and  coherence  in  the  universe. 


80  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

Now,  there  are  two  sufficient  reasons  against  this 
jDhase  of  materialism  which  may  be  urged  before 
considering  it  in  detail.  The  first  of  these  is,  that 
the  notion  of  resemblance  has  itself  been  pilfered, 
and  is  an  original  solvent  furnished  by  the  mind,  not 
given  to  it.  We  do  not  see  things  to  be  like  ;  if  so, 
every  eye  must  pronounce  at  once,  and  always,  on  all 
shades  and  forms  of  likeness  and  unlikeness,  as  upon 
all  colors.  We  do  not  see  things,  we  judge  them  ;  we 
think  them  to  be  like  or  unlike.  The  notion  of  like- 
ness comes  in,  is  brought  in  by  the  mind,  to  explain 
the  things  to  which  we  apply  it.  A  great  difference 
between  brute  perception  and  rational  perception 
will  be  found  just  here.  Things  are  simply  seen 
by  the  animal  ;  they  are  compared  by  the  man,  and 
their  agreements  as  agreements  observed.  It  is  one 
thing  to  have  a  sensation  twice,  another  thing  to 
observe  the  fact,  and  affirm  the  identity  of  the  two 
states.  The  first  may  occur  many  times  before  we 
make  this  last  assertion  of  agreement.  If,  there- 
fore, Spencer  and  others  should  succeed  in  resolv- 
ing all  judgments  into  one  category,  that  of  re- 
semblance, they  would  still  be  called  on  to  explain 
the  origin  of  this  idea,  and  should  not  be  allowed 
to  assume  it  as  an  obvious  product  of  mere  expe- 
rience, of  simple  sensation.  The  mind  cannot  get 
to  work,  cannot  begin  to  manipulate  its  sensations, 
and  manufacture  them  into  thought,  without  concep- 
tions, ideas,  under  which  it  proceeds.  If  it  starts 
with  comparing  its  impressions,  it  must  first  be 
aware  that  this  is  what  it  is  to  do,  and  open  the 
labor   under   the    idea   of   resemblance.      No    mere 


RESEMBLANCE  NOT  THE  SOLE  LAW  OF  THOUGHT.       8  I 

physical  facts  arrange  themselves,  unite  themselves 
in  classes.  , 

The  second  objection,  before  inquiry,  is,  that  stated 
antecedents  constitute  no  explanation  of  facts,  but  are 
rather  the  statement  of  the  facts  without  explanation. 
An  apple,  unsupported,  falls  to  the  ground  is  a  fixed 
sequence,  but  this  is  not  the  ultimate  statement,  the 
observed  and  expounded  fact  to  the  true  philosopher, 
but  that  rather  which  calls  for  and  suggests  explanation. 
Why,  by  what  force,  does  the  fall  follow  the  detach- 
ment of  the  apple  ?  How  is  the  consequent  locked  in 
with  its  antecedent ;  directly  as  the  expansion  of  iron 
under  heat,  or  indirectly  as  the  increased  current  in 
the  galvanic  battery  on  the  addition  of  fresh  acid  ? 

These  are  the  questions  which  science  is  really 
putting,  and  it  seeks  to  settle  antecedents  only  that 
it  may  penetrate  their  nature  and  relations,  and  thus 
answer  these  inquiries.  So  radical,  however,  would 
be  the  effect  on  philosophy  and  science  of  this  analy- 
sis of  all  judgments  and  resemblance,  that  it  deserves 
further  attention,  especially  as  metaphysicians,  so  far 
removed  from  materialism  as  Hamilton,  seem  ready, 
incautiously,  to  admit  it. 

"  In  opposition  to  the  views  hitherto  promulgated 
in  regard  to  Comparison,  I  will  show  that  this  faculty 
is  at  work  in  every,  the  simplest,  act  of  mind  ;  and  that, 
from  the  primary  affirmation  of  existence  in  an  orig- 
inal act  of  consciousness  to  the  judgment  contained 
in  the  conclusion  of  an  act  of  reasoning,  every  opera- 
tion is  only  an  evolution  of  the  same  elementary  pro- 
cess— that  there  is  a  difference  in  the  complexity, 
none  in  the  nature  of  the  act ;  in  short,  that  the 
4* 


82  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

various  products  of  Analysis  and  Synthesis,,  of  Ab- 
straction and  Generalization,  are  all  merely  the  results 
of  Comparison,  and  that  the  operations  of  Conception 
or  simple  Apprehension,  of  Judgment,  and  of  Rea- 
soning, are  only  acts  of  Comparison,  in  various  appli- 
cations and  degrees.  What  I  have,  therefore,  to 
prove,  is,  in  the  first  place,  that  Comparison  is  sup- 
posed in  every,  the  simplest  act  of  knowledge  ;  in 
the  second,  that  our  factitiously  simple,  our  factitiously 
complex,  our  abstract,  and  our  generalized  notions, 
are  all  merely  so  many  products  of  Comparison  ;  in 
the  third,  that  Judgment,  and,  in  the  fourth,  that 
Reasoning,  is  identical  with  Comparison." 

Now,  as  comparison  goes  on  under  resemblance,  it 
is  evident  that  Hamilton  looked  upon  this  as  the  all- 
inclusive  idea  under  which  the  mind's  activity  pro- 
ceeds, and  thus  virtually  leaves  no  room  for  coupling 
our  thoughts  by  cause  and  effect,  or,  indeed,  by  any 
other  intuitive  idea.  The  reason  of  this  is  found  in 
his  logic,  and  I  need  not  pause  to  give  it.  Its  plausi- 
bility will  be  more  apparent  later.  We  turn  now  to 
Spencer,  with  whom  a  kindred  belief  is  the  founda- 
tion of  a  more  consistent  philosophy.  It  is  impossi- 
ble to  give  anything  more  than  the  concise  statement 
of  the  result  at  which  Spencer  arrives,  as  the  discus- 
sion, with  steadily  growing  and  closely  welded  con- 
clusions, approaches  the  end,  through  hundreds  of 
compact  pages.  Says  he,  as  he  nears  the  goal ;  "  At 
length,  continued  analysis  has  brought  us  down  to 
the  relations  underlying,  not  only  all  preceding  rela- 
tions, but  all  processes  of  thought  whatever.  From 
the  most  complex  and  abstract  inferences  of  the  de- 


RESEMBLANCE  NOT  THE  SOLE  LAW  OF  THOUGHT.       83 

veloped  man,  down  to  the  most  rudimentary  intui- 
tions of  the  infant ;  all  intelligence  proceeds  by  the 
establishment  of  relations  of  likeness  and  unlikeness." 
This  conclusion  has  been  reached  by  an  examina- 
tion of  mathematics,  whose  reasonings  all  proceed  on 
perfect  agreement,  complete  equality  of  units  ;  by  a 
consideration  of  the  classifications  of  science,  obviously 
resting  on  resemblance ;  and  of  its  laws,  the  expression 
of  like  results  as  the  fruits  of  like  conditions  ;  and  bv 
the  further  and  more  difficult  labor  of  resolving  a  por- 
tion of  the  intuitive  ideas  offered  by  us — that  portion 
more  commonly  accepted,  such  as  space  and  time 
— into  the  results  of  a  comparison  of  like  series  and 
contrasted  series  of  sensations.  What,  then,  is  the 
significance  of  this  conclusion,  for  the  red  heat  and 
forging  of  which,  a  fierce  furnace  of  logic  has  been 
maintained,  and  trip-hammer  blows  of  thought  have 
been  bestowed,  through  a  whole  volume  of  philoso- 
phy. What  matters  it,  if  it  be  true  as  Spencer 
affirms,  that  all,  "  the  most  complex  processes  of 
reasoning  are  resolvable  into  intuitions — that  is,  ob- 
servations— of  likeness  and  unlikeness  between  terms 
more  or  less  involved  ? "  In  it,  Spencer  is  well 
aware  that  there  is  found  the  germinant  seed  of  ma- 
terialism. If  the  one  assumption  of  resemblance, 
as  a  product  of  experience,  can  pass  unchallenged,  and 
all  judgments  can  be  resolved  into  it,  as  their  very 
substance,  the  work  is  done.  Evidently,  if  we  have 
no  other  sources  of  the  material  of  knowledge  than 
sensation,  the  mind  can  alone  busy  itself  in  compar- 
ing these  sensations  ;  the  likeness  and  unlikeness  be- 
tween them  will  be  its  sole  resource  of  thought.     If, 


84  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

then,  it  can  be  shown  by  exhaustive  analysis,  that  all 
judgments  are  of  this  character,  as  Spencer  asserts, 
the  clearest  color  of  probability  is  at  once  reflected 
on  the  correlative  doctrine,  and  it  becomes  certain 
that  the  mind  has  no  other  inlet  of  knowledge  than 
observation,  and  no  other  office  than  the  classification 
of  the  matter  so  obtained.  The  exhaustive  and  la- 
borious discussion  of  Spencer  is  an  effort  to  establish 
that  which  would  admittedly  be  true  on  the  ground 
of  materialism,  and  thus,  by  an  independent  confir- 
mation of  its  conclusions,  to  shore  up  the  premises  on 
which  they  rest.  Here,  then,  is  the  source  of  the 
interest  Spencer  feels  in  the  subject,  and  the  reason 
of  the  labor  he  has  expended  upon  it.  The  wedge 
of  materialism  finds  entrance  in  this  assertion  of  the 
one  unmistakable  character  of  all  judgments.  The 
scope  of  our  faculties  is  thereby  defined.  Thus  much 
we  may  do,  and  not  more.  So  far  our  powers  are  re- 
liable, and  not  further.  We  can  deal  with  sensations, 
but  we  cannot  transcend  them.  We  can  discover  the 
order  that  is  in  them,  but  we  can  bring  no  order  to 
them.  The  action  of  the  mind  on  the  material  world 
about  it  is  from  beneath,  upward,  as  wild  vines  climb 
on  to  and  over  shrubs  in  a  hedge-row  ;  not  from  above, 
downward,  as  the  hawk  perches  upon  an  oak.  If  we 
add  to  this  doctrine  the  sorting  power  of  our  physical 
constitution  as  Bain  presents  it ;  our  nerves  denning, 
connecting,  and  perpetuating  the  several  classes  of 
impressions  that  run  along  them,  we  see  the  alleged 
mechanical  and  physical  features  of  the  mind  brought 
into  bold  relief.  What  a  fanning-mill  is  to  mixed 
grains,  foul-seed  and  chaff,  separating  them  and  re- 


RESEMBLANCE  NOT  THE  SOLE  LAW  OF  THOUGHT.       85 

turning  each  to  its  own  drawer,  or  repository,  our 
nervous  organization  is  to  the  mingled  impressions 
of  the  outside  world,  resolving  them  into  feelings  of 
various  kinds,  into  ideas  and  memories  according  as 
they  enter  along  this  or  that  channel,  tarry  longer, 
or  are  expelled  quicker.  The  drift  of  a  swollen  stream 
is  no  more  certainly  divided,  the  fine  sand  yonder, 
the  gravel  here  beneath  our  feet,  and  the  coarse  cob- 
bles behind  us,  than,  under  this  general  view  of  the 
mind,  do  the  several  products  of  sensation,  floating 
in  the  nervous  system,  at  length  gravitate  each  to  its 
own  place.  So  important  are  the  conclusions  as  re- 
gards the  origin  and  character  of  our  powers  contained 
in  this  simple  assertion,  that  "  the  most  complex 
processes  of  reasoning  are  resolvable  into  intuitions 
of  likeness  and  unlikeness,  between  terms  more  or 
less  involved."  The  scope  of  our  powers  is  of  course 
correspondingly  restricted.  We  can  make  nothing 
more  out  of  morality  than  can  be  found  in  sensations  ; 
these  are  the  cucumbers  from  which  we  are  to  extract 
our  spiritual  sunshine,  more  or  less,  or  go  without  it. 
We  are  limited  to  a  comparison  of  pleasures,  and, 
therefore,  our  inquiries  can  issue  in  nothing  but  util- 
itarianism. If  we  attempt,  in  religion,  to  set  up  this 
ladder  of  like  and  unlike,  and  climb  into  the  heavens 
by  it,  we  find  it  lamentably  short.  Indeed,  how  can 
God,  standing  off  in  the  separation  of  his  infinite  at- 
tributes, be  reached  by  resemblances,  whose  limited 
range  is  that  of  observation  ?  Hence,  Spencer  gives 
this  notion  of  the  infinite  place  among  those  pseudo- 
ideas  that  haunt  the  thoughts,  but  are  never  reached 
by  them.     Or  how  can  any  invisible  world  whatever, 


86  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

of  forces,  or  powers,  or  spirits,  be  reached  by  a  phil- 
osophy whose  sole  occupation  is  comparison,  and 
whose  only  material  in  hand,  on  which  to  base  its 
resemblances,  are  earthly,  visible,  sensible  appear- 
ances ?  The  mind  is  thus  imprisoned  within  the 
horizon  of  the  eye  ;  tethered  down  to  the  range  of  ■ 
the  nostril,  the  touch  of  the  finger ;  and  though  sharp 
and  cunning  enough  here,  so  far  fails  of  immortality 
and  another  life  that  it  knows  not  well  what  these 
mean.  "  Dust  to  dust,"  becomes  the  one  law  of  its 
being. 

How,  then,  it  is  asked,  is  this  resolution,  so  fatal 
in  its  consequences,  of  all  thought  into  the  tracing 
of  resemblances,  even  apparently  possible  ?  Because, 
we  answer,  there  is  in  it  a  very  broad  substratum  of 
truth,  and  when  it  is  not  true,  it  is  closely  allied  to 
the  truth.  Utility,  a  comparison  of  enjoyments,  is 
intimately  connected  with  morality,  though  it  is  not 
morality :  and  the  identity  and  likeness  of  causes  are 
determined  only  by  likeness  and  identity  of  effects, 
of  visible  things.  If  we  refer  for  a  moment  to  the 
scheme  already  given  of  regulative  ideas,  we  shall  see 
how  this  one  of  resemblance  casts  its  shadow  over  all 
others,  and  thus,  in  constant  contact  with  them  all, 
may,  by  adroit  analysis,  be  furnished  as  their  very 
substance.  We  start  with  existence,  but  this  notion 
cannot  find  bold  relief  till  we  affirm  it  of  several 
things  ;  till  we  have  contrasted  existence  with  non- 
existence, the  presence  of  an  object  with  its  absence  ; 
and  thus,  by  comparison,  given  clearness  to  the  condi- 
tions of  the  conception.  When  we  come  to  number,  it 
involves  at  once  unity  and  plurality,  and  a  recognition 


RESEMBLANCE  NOT  THE  SOLE  LAW  OF  THOUGHT.       87 

of  the  perfect  identity  or  equality,  or  likeness  of  each 
unit,  as  a  unit,  in  the  numbers  to  be  manipulated. 
Two  and  two  make  four  only  on  condition  that  two 
is  equal  to  two,  one  to  one. 

Again,  when  we  pass  to  space  in  its  practical  ap- 
plications, positions,  locations,  are  utterly  undefined, 
till  we  have  taken  two  or  more  positions  and  "insti- 
tuted relations  between  them,  compared  them  as  on 
this  side,  or  that ;  as  above,  or  below.  The  words 
above,  below,  simply  mark  the  way  in  which  we  des- 
ignate objects  that  stand  in  certain  like  relations  to 
other  objects.  When  we  pass  on  to  causation,  this 
is  only  approachable  through  resemblances — resem- 
blances carefully,  methodically  traced  among  the 
things  with  which  we  have  to  deal.  That  like 
causes  will  produce  like  effects  is  the  working  axiom 
of  this  department :  and  the  likeness  of  the  causes 
can  only  be  established  by  the  likeness  of  those  visi- 
ble marks  or  signs  which  accompany  them.  How 
easy  is  it,  then,  dropping  the  notion  of  cause,  to  sub- 
stitute for  the  more  cumbersome  expression,  the 
simpler  one,  like  follows  like  ;  and  thus  to  resolve 
every  inquiry  of  science  into  one  purely  of  resem- 
blances. This  it  already  is  in  form,  and  therein  seems 
to  provoke  this  oversight  of  its  secret  nature.  We 
could  thus,  with  Spencer,  trace  throughout  the  pro- 
cesses of  thought,  and,  by  skimming  a  little  lightly  a 
few  fields,  reach  the  same  conclusions  with  him.  The 
error  of  this  analysis  will  be  seen,  however,  when  we 
scrutinize  more  carefully  our  judgments,  and  strive  to 
render  all  the  elements  they  contain.  Resemblance, 
as  compared  with  our  other  intuitive  ideas,  has  beer. 


88  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

like  more  gross,  when  connected  with  more  volatile, 
elements  in  chemical  composition.  Inaccurate  an- 
alysis always  renders  those,  while,  more  frequently 
than  otherwise,  these,  their  subtle  companions  escape, 
leaving  them  the  field.  Take,  as  an  example,  the  no- 
tion of  time.  Let  this  be  involved  in  a  judgment,  and 
there  will  always  be  a  residuum  of  thought  which  re- 
semblance alone  does  not  cover.  Says  Spencer,  in 
substance,  if  we  compare  several  distinct  series  of 
events  which  follow  in  a  fixed  order,  and  cannot  be 
repeated,  the  mind  is  struck  with  this  agreeing  fact 
in  them.  This  sequential  relation  under  which  they 
transpire,  in  an  irreversible  way,  we  call  time.  In 
his  own  words,  "  It  is  impossible  to  think  of  time, 
without  thinking  of  some  succession  ;  and  it  is  equally 
impossible  to  think  of  any  succession  without  think- 
ing of  time.  Time,  as  known  to  us,  is  relativity  of 
position  among  the  states  of  'consciousness ■."  That  is,  the 
agreeing  relation  between  two  series  of  a  fixed,  irre- 
versiable  order,  is  time.  Is  this  analysis  complete  ? 
Far  from  it.  Stop  here,  and  we  have  resemblance 
alone,  a  likeness  of  relation.  Push  it  one  step  fur- 
ther, and  we  shall  reach  the  missing  ingredient.  Let 
several  things  be  given  us  to  compare.  We  must  be 
told  in  what  respect  we  are  to  compare  them  ;  in  size, 
in  color,  in  form,  or  in  flavor  ?  That  is  to  say,  the 
comparison  cannot  be  instituted  or  proceed,  except 
under  a  specific  idea.  The  injunction,  Compare, 
Compare,  is  vague  and  bewildering  till  we  are  told 
in  what  respect  to  compare  the  things  before  us. 
Take  now  a  series  of  sensations  which  are  to  be 
made  the  subject  of  our  thoughts.     We  may  be  called 


RESEMBLANCE  NOT  THE  SOLE  LAW  OF  THOUGHT.       89 

on  to  classify  them  as  agreeable  or  disagreeable  ;  or 
the  objects  which  occasioned  them,  as  red  or  yellow, 
as  hard  or  soft,  for  these  impressions  are  all  products 
of  our  sensitive  organs,  and  may,  therefore,  guide  the 
inquiry.  In  each  case,  however,  the  guiding  point  or 
consideration  in  the  comparison  precedes  the  com- 
parison, has  already  been  given  in  an  organ  of  sense, 
and  is  the  light  under  which  the  process  goes  on. 
Now  suppose  we  are  to  institute  a  comparison  be- 
tween sensations  in  reference  to  their  sequence — a 
relation,  according  to  Spencer,  involving  that  of  time, 
equivalent  to  it.  This  notion  also  must  first  be  given 
to  the  mind,  be  made  present  to  it,  before  it  can  push 
forward  a  comparison  under  it.  If  the  mind  has  not 
known  a  sequence  as  a  sequence,  it  cannot  consider 
separate  series  in  this  respect.  The  notion  of  time, 
then,  precedes  the  comparison,  and  does  not  follow  it 
as  its  fruits.  As  it  is  not  a  sensation,  like  white  and 
black,  it  must  be  an  intuition,  an  idea  furnished  by 
the  mind  under  which  it  itstitutes  and  maintains  the 
the  comparison  in  the  several  series  of  events  before 
it.  Thus  our  judgment  is  found  to  involve  another 
antecedent  element  beside  that  of  resemblance,  to 
wit,  that  of  time ;  and  this  element  can  itself  be 
made  the  predicate  of  an  independent  proposition. 
Every  event  happens  in  time,  is  a  judgment  turning 
on  a  distinct  intuition,  and  is  not  analyzable  into  re- 
semblance. The  same  could  easily  be  shown  to  be 
true  of  the  other  intuitions,  as  space,  consciousness, 
right.  The  fact,  then,  is,  that  every  intuition  is 
present  in  the  propositions  to  which  it  pertains  as 
an  irreducible  element,  and  that  every  judgment  so 


90  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

framed  as  to  contain  one  of  these  as  its  predicate, 
does  not  suffer  resolution.  Other  judgments,  exceed- 
ingly like  these,  may  be  made  to  render  up  the  idea 
of  resemblance  ;  but  the  simple,  primitive  judgments 
which  apply  our  intuitions,  have  each  a  primitive 
character  of  its  own.  This  event  has  a  cause,  this 
action  is  right,  are  assertions  of  first  truths,  not  of 
a  likeness  between  one  event  and  another,  one  action 
and  another.  If  we  so  strive  to  explain  them,  we  shall 
be  obliged  at  length  to  go  further,  and  account  for  this 
likeness  between  the  two  events  on  the  ground  of  the 
primitive  conceptions  of  causation  and  of  right. 

But  the  notion  of  resemblance  has  been  especially 
brought  forward  to  displace  that  of  causation,  in  con- 
nection with  which  it  finds  its  chief  significance.  The 
relation  of  the  two,  therefore,  in  physical  inquiries,  in 
science,  calls  for  a  brief  elucidation.  The  processes 
of  science  all  proceed  visibly,  ostensibly,  under  the 
idea  of  resemblance.  The  classifying  of  objects  in 
families,  in  genera  and  species,  as  of  plants  in  Botany, 
or  animals  in  Zoology,  is  the  first  difficult,  and  ever- 
returning  labor  of  the  inquirer.  Here  a  thorough 
penetration  into  agreements  and  disagreements, 
points  of  resemblance  and  of  difference,  is  a  chief 
requisite,  and  may  seem  to  exhaust  the  mind's  action. 
But  even  in  these  sciences,  which  are  chiefly  sciences 
of  classification,  this  search  after  the  likeness  and 
unlikeness  of  things  has  tacit  reference  to  funda- 
mental qualities  or  properties  which  belong  to  them, 
which  make  them  what  they  are  ;  or  to  their  descent 
from  common  parentage,  impressing  upon  them  their 
agreements. 


RESEMBLANCE  NOT  THE  SOLE  LAW  OF  THOUGHT.      9 1 

In  botany,  plants  were  for  a  time  united  by  one  class 
of  resemblances,  and  later,  re-arranged  under  another. 
Why  this  change  ?  Because  the  one  set  of  agree- 
ments were  believed  to  be  more  closely  united  to  in- 
terior nature  and  character  than  the  other ;  to  better 
express  the  descent  and  general  properties  of  plants, 
the  forces  in  the  past  which  have  made  them  what 
they  are,  and  the  forces  in  the  present  which  ex- 
press their  innermost  being  and  affinities.  What 
is  it  that  marks  the  superiority  of  one  system  of  clas- 
sification over  another  but  its  more  intimate  relations 
to  inherent,  essential,  efficient  forces,  and  its  greater 
power  to  express,  therefore,  the  real  position  of  a 
plant  or  an  animal  in  the  general  plan  of  life,  its  kin- 
ship of  characteristics  and  descent  ?  And  what  is 
this  but  getting  a  little  closer  to  the  causal  relations 
at  work  ?  No  single  outside  agreements,  however 
striking,  are  of  much  interest,  provided,  on  the  whole, 
they  appear  to  have  been  accidental — not  the  indices 
of  agreeing  causes,  not  the  marks  of  like  relations  in 
the  plan  of  properties  and  powers.  The  mints  have 
a  certain  kind  of  odors  :  this  constitutes  a  strong  fea- 
ture of  the  class.  But  a  like  odor  elsewhere,  as  in  a 
geranium,  is  not  particularly  significant.  It  is,  then, 
agreements  which  go  beyond  the  senses,  which  have 
interpretation  in  them,  which  put  us  in  connection 
with  the  secrets  of  vital  and  physical  forces,  that 
have  interest  for  us,  and  make  classification  a  scien- 
tific process,  a  means  of  knowing,  of  reaching  and 
using,  causes.  The  child  may  classify  his  broken 
bits  of  crockery  by  their  shape,  or  the  coloring  upon 
them,  and,  as  dealing  with  mere  resemblances,  the 


92  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

relation  is  accidental,  one  of  no  interest.  He  may 
classify  them  according  to  the  material  of  which  they 
respectively  have  been  made,  and  immediately  they 
are  attached  to  different  portions  of  the  earth,  different 
nations,  and  very  distinct  stages  of  art.  No  depart- 
ment can  establish  its  claims  to  be  a  science  till  its 
classifications  begin  to  assume  something  of  this 
pregnant  form,  to  contain  the  underlying  history  of 
forces,  and  to  strike  out,  here  and  there,  into  flashes 
of  causation.  When  we  get  hold  of  the  secret  of  a 
force,  discover  how  to  breed  an  animal,  how  to  modify 
a  type,  how  to  mingle  colors  in  a  new  flower,  or  fla- 
vors in  a  new  apple,  we  feel  that  observation  is 
passing  into  science  ;  that  we  begin  to  know,  since 
we  have  penetrated  appearances,  resemblances,  and 
touched  with  authority  the  forces  that  underlie  them. 
Whatever  defects  the  Darwinian  theory  may  have, 
its  chief  merit,  that  which  has  given  it  hold  on  so 
many  minds,  has  been  this  :  that  its  classifications 
are  thought  to  put  us  on  the  actual  lines  of  develop- 
ment, to  mark  the  directions  of  embryonic  and  of 
progressive  growth.  This  theory,  which  is  pressed 
by  Spencer,  and  is  chiefly  used  in  the  interest  of 
materialism,  nevertheless,  owes  its  principal  interest 
to  the  antagonistic  principle  involved  in  causation. 

Another  and  stricter  class  of  sciences  direct  their 
attention  more  undividedly  to  causes,  forces.  Of 
*  this  nature,  are  natural  philosophy,  chemistry,  mete- 
orology. In  mechanics,  we  are  tracing  forces  exclu- 
sively, and  agreeing  appearances  are  only  thought  of 
as  the  expression,  the  language  of  agreeing  causes. 
Not  able  to  penetrate  to  causes,  we  treat  them  wholly 


RESEMBLANCE  NOT  THE  SOLE  LAW  OF  THOUGHT.       93 

through  their  effects,  through  the  appearances  that 
accompany  them  ;  but  the  mind,  the  thought,  is  al- 
ways truly  dealing  with  the  forces  conceived  by  it  to 
be  present.  A  set  of  pullies,  under  certain  conditions, 
raises  a  weight ;  a  lever,  under  other  conditions,  per- 
forms the  same  labor.  The  mind  has  no  explanation 
for  these  results,  except  that  of  equal  force  in  the  two 
cases.  The  likeness  of  the  effects  has  its  significance 
in  enabling  us  to  attribute,  to  unlike  antecedents,  a 
like  secret  efficiency  or  force.  This  word,  force,  fol- 
lowing us  everywhere  in  physical  inquiry,  is  a  con- 
stant witness  to  the  nature  of  mental  processes  ;  a 
constant  reminder  of  the  mind's  interpretation  of 
resemblances.  In  physics,  chemistry,  meteorology, 
physiology,  we  are  satisfied  only  as  we  seem  to  touch 
and  define  the  forces  at  work ;  and  it  is  our  greater 
success  in  this  respect,  in  one  department  than  in 
another,  in  dealing  with  physical  and  chemical  forces 
than  with  vital  forces,  that  makes  of  the  first  a 
more  complete  science  than  of  the  last.  It  is  a  mat- 
ter of  choice  in  geometry  whether  or  not  we  formally 
state  our  axioms.  They  just  as  certainly  underlie 
the  proofs  in  the  one  case  as  the  other.  The  mind 
requires  no  reminder  of  axioms  ;  thus  is  it  with  this 
idea  of  causation.  Phenomena  run  along  on  the  sur- 
face, under  the  form  of  resemblance,  and  language 
often  takes  them  up  in  this  shape  ;  but  the  mind 
does  not  the  less  interpret  them  through  the  ever- 
present  axiom  of  causation.  A  boy  shapes  the  clay 
in  his  hand  into  a  marble,  and  the  bullet  comes  forth 
from  the  mould,  round.  The  two  balls,  as  balls,  have 
no  interest  to  observers.     They  are  like  in  form  from 


94  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

totally  different  causes.  The  dew-drop  enspheres 
itself  at  the  end  of  a  grass  blade  ;  the  shot  falls  from 
the  tower,  and  reaches  the  water  a  solid  sphere ;  the 
earth,  a  mammoth  globe,  has  felt  its  central  force 
shaping  it  through  every  solid  inch  of  its  contents. 
Here,  a  resemblance  opens  a  vista  into  forces,  and  the 
mind  is  all  attention.  The  rounded  pebbles  of  con- 
glomerate rock,  the  abraded  stones  of  a  mass  of  drift, 
have  meaning  in  their  forms,  because  they  indicate 
the  previous  action  of  forces  like  those  which  now 
chafe  the  shale  on  the  beach.  Resemblances,  then, 
are  the  visible  signs  of  an  invisible  thought,  and  it 
would  be  as  possible  and  as  philosophical  to  say,  that 
in  language  we  are  dealing,  not  with  ideas  but  with 
like  characters  and  sounds  only,  because  these  are 
always  present,  and  all  that  is  present  to  the  senses, 
as  to  say,  that  we  are  dealing  in  science  only  with 
the  likeness  of  phenomena,  because  this  likeness  is 
the  inseparable  expression  of  the  included  causes. 
Scientific  inquiry  progresses  under  one  idea,  and 
through  and  by  it  reaches  another,  as  the  eye  fol- 
lows the  printed  page,  while  the  imagination  revels 
in  the  imagery  of  poetry,  and  the  thought  strikes 
deep  into  its  sentiments.  Indeed,  there  could  be  no 
depths  in  poetry,  were  there  no  hidden  truths  in 
philosophy  :  were  all  phenomena  a  spectral  surface 
play,  a  filmy  effervescence,  an  illusion  of  the  senses, 
without  source  or  issue,  permanent  being  or  efficient 
force. 

This  axiom  of  causation,  this  regulative  idea  of 
force,  which  we  have  now  taken  so  much  pains  to 
define  and  establish,  is  the  essential  frame-work  of 


RESEMBLANCE  NOT  THE  SOLE  LAW  OF  THOUGHT.      95 

the  physical  universe.  It  is  the  limit  and  law  of  all 
its  connections.  It  excludes  fortuity,  shuts  out  the 
chaos  of  cha«ce,  and  limits  accident  to  unperceived, 
unanticipated  causes.  Creation  is  order,  is  the  set- 
tling and  defining  of  forces ;  is  the  putting  of  given 
things  in  given  places  ;  is  the  shaping  of  results  ac- 
cording to  a  fixed  method  :  and  this  labor  throughout 
is  but  the  systematized  action  of  causes.  Creation 
is  the  wedding  of  defined  action  to  a  defined  element 
for  a  defined  end,  and  this  is  the  law  of  causes.  But 
that  which  conditions  the  presence  of  order  in  the 
universe,  conditions  the  mind's  apprehension  of  that 
order.  All  thought,  all  inquiry,  all  movement  back- 
ward or  forward  for  the  apprehension  of  that  which 
has  been,  or  anticipation  of  that  which  is  to  be,  must 
proceed  along  the  connection  of  fixed  causes.  By  as 
much  as  the  effect  should  be  found  to  differ  from,  or 
transcend,  the  cause,  by  so  much  would  there  be  a 
loss  of  all  connection,  all  dependence,  a  cutting  of 
the  thread  of  force  and  thought,  which  had  entered 
the  fabric  of  events.  The  mind,  when  dealing  with 
things — observe  the  limitation — can  only  unite  them 
by  this  notion,  and,  therefore,  all  forethought  and 
afterthought,  all  passage  of  the  perceptive  faculties 
into  and  through  the  objects  about  them,  must  rest 
on  this  idea,  must  arise  under  this  law  of  the  phys- 
ical universe. 

What  is  true  of  thought,  is  true  of  our  active  pow- 
ers. There  is  one  and  the  same  condition  of  their 
exercise.  We  learn  to  control  events,  because  we 
learn  the  forces  which  are  efficient  in  them  ;  can  our- 
selves add  to  their  efficiency  or  withdraw  a  portion 


g6  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

of  it  from  them.  The  physical  universe  is  a  middle 
term  between  us  and  God.  It  is  an  express  declar- 
ation, on  his  part,  of  what  he  has  done,  and  what  he 
will  do  :  what  forces  he  will  loan  us,  and  on  what  con- 
ditions. We,  therefore,  enter  the  field  of  exertion 
under  a  settled  contract.  We  can  make  no  sudden 
appeal  for  favor ;  we  can  find  no  extenuation  for  ig- 
norance, nor  oversight  for  indolence.  We  are  put  at 
once  to  inquiry  and  faithfulness,  and  the  least  failure 
in  either  is  liable  to  a  severe  punishment.  Now, 
under  such  conditions  only,  could  we  work  with  God, 
or  find  a  motive  even  for  exertion.  If  physical  forces 
were  not  fixed  in  measure  and  law ;  if  they  were  lia- 
ble to  be  suddenly  withdrawn  and  re-issued  under 
new  conditions  ;  if  they  were  occasionally  comple- 
mented by  supernatural  intervention,  so  far  forth  ele- 
ments of  uncertainty  would  enter,  inducing  idleness, 
an  ill-grounded  faith  in  our  own  good  fortune  and 
God's  grace  to  us.  Indeed,  a  belief  in  the  power  of 
prayer  even,  is  sometimes  so  held  as  to  lead  to  an 
oversight  of  duties,  of  natural  laws,  whose  injunctions 
are  in  the  imperative  form.  Nothing  is  more  natural 
and  inevitable  than  for  men,  with  many  wayward 
desires  and  indolent  tendencies,  to  excuse  them- 
selves from  foresight  and  energy  by  some  ungrounded 
trust  in  God.  With  the  present  stern  and  unyielding 
administration  of  natural  law,  there  is  yet  much  re- 
liance on  good  luck,  good  fortune,  and  providential  in- 
tervention. The  power  and  office  of  prayer  we  shall 
discuss  later,  we  only  now  remark  that  this  stern 
force  of  causal  connections,  this  frown  of  law,  are 
needed  to  prevent  prayer's  becoming  the  pack-horse 


RESEMBLANCE  NOT  THE  SOLE  LAW  OF  THOUGHT.       Q)J 

of  the  lazy  and  imbecile.  The  possibility  of  work, 
the  necessity  of  work,  and  the  reward  of  work,  are 
found  in  the  stated  connection  of  cause  and  effect. 
Through  it,  we  know  what  we  may  do,  under  what 
conditions,  and  how  far  our  doing  will  be  effective. 
We  know  what  we  must  do,  or  suffer  the  punishment' 
of  vagabond  powers.  We  know  what  rewards  are 
ready  to  crown  our  labor,  and  to  unite  the  irksome 
entrance  of  toil  to  the  glad  exit  of  success.  The 
cogency  of  this  discipline  cannot  be  abated  one  iota 
without  immediate  degeneracy  ;  without  loss  to  that 
strength  of  will,  that  keenness  of  thought,  that  sobri- 
ety of  feeling,  which  are  now  the  means  of  success. 

Not  only  is  the  universe  a  middle  ground  of  labor 
between  man  and  God,  it  is  a  middle  term  of  thought. 
Revelation  does  do  nothing,  and  could  do  but  little, 
to  contradict  the  lessons  of  the  divine  character  and 
government  given  under  the  creative  hand  and  seal 
of  God.  If  there  are  unchangeable  purposes  in  God  ; 
if  there  are  straight  lines  of  law ;  if  his  moral  gov- 
ernment involves  grave  responsibilities,  and  strange, 
momentous  liabilities  ;  if  indolence  and  ignorance  are 
not  to  be  screened  from  both  rebuke  and  punishment, 
a  foreshadowing  of  these  truths  must  be  found  in  the 
physical  world.  The  fixedness  and  stability  of  cau- 
sation, therefore,  undergird  the  material  world  as  by 
a  divine  foreordination,  for  a  purpose  wise  in  its  con- 
ception and  faithful  in  its  execution.  If  coherence, 
consistency,  progress  have  been  thus  secured  in  the 
outside  world,  coming  up  from  the  dawn  of  geologic 
time  to  the  present,  varied  development  and  comple- 
tion of  his  labor,  a  like  coherence,  consistency,  pro- 


98  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

gress  are  reflected  on  the  moral  purposes  of  God,  and 
transferred  from  his  lower  to  his  higher  Kingdom 
of  Grace.  If  he  was  not  stinted  in  time,  or  limited 
in  resources  under  the  one  fixed  law  of  causes,  but 
brought  forth  from  the  merest  germ  of  nebulous, 
chaotic  force,  this  present  world,  no  more,  we  are 
taught,  will  he  be  embarrassed  and  baffled  by  the 
law  of  liberty  in  man,  in  bringing  forward  his  second, 
his  spiritual  work  of  creation.  If  there  were  fluctu- 
ation, change,  uncertainty  in  the  work  already  done, 
then  might  we  anticipate  like  fickleness  and  feeble- 
ness in  the  future  ;  but  now  the  outside  world,  in  its 
unyielding  laws  and  steady  growth,  is  a  purpose  of 
adamant,  an  unchangeable  truth  between  us  and  God, 
a  key  of  iron,  working  between  guards  of  iron,  open- 
ing the  door  upon  his  foreordained  purposes,  his  im- 
perishable undertakings.  Moreover,  only  thus  could 
any  final  causes,  any  ends  enter  into  the  conception 
of  the  universe.  Motives,  objects  proposed,  are  de- 
pendent on  sufficient  means  for  their  execution,  and 
are  rendered  rational,  intelligible  by  the  presence  of 
such  means.  The  plans  of  God  give  rise  to  a  settled 
relation  of  means  to  ends,  and,  in  turn,  are  expressed, 
revealed  to  us  by  this  relation.  What  is  done,  stead- 
ily done  by  natural  law,  thus  expounds  the  divine 
purpose,  and  gives  us  the  design  of  our  Heavenly 
Father. 

It  is  not  strange,  that  a  positive  philosophy  that 
struggles  against  causes  should  still  more  resist  final 
causes,  and  stigmatize  those  inquiries  by  which  we 
forecast  the  drift  of  things,  discern  the  ends  around 
which  they  seem  to  rally,  as  futile,  abortive,  fanci- 


RESEMBLANCE  NOT  THE  SOLE  LAW  OF  THOUGHT.   99 

ful.  The  mind  naturally  pushes  its  questions  of 
explanation  in  two  directions,  backward  and  forward. 
It  asks,  whence  a  thing  comes,  when,  where  and 
how  it  was  made  ;  and  also  whither  it  goes,  for  what 
purpose  it  was  so  made.  These  inquiries  are  mutu- 
ally dependent.  If  the  one  is  legitimate,  then  is  the 
other.  If  we  may  ask  how  a  thing  is  made,  we  may 
also  ask  why  it  was  made  ;  if  we  may  inquire  whence 
it  comes,  we  may  also  seek  whither  it  goes :  if  we 
may  search  for  causes,  we  may  also  for  final  causes. 
The  rationality  in  its  conception,  in  the  making  of 
a  thing,  implies  a  like  rationality  in  its  destination. 
Indeed,  its  purpose  is  locked  up  in  its  construction, 
and  may  be  sought  for  there.  The  plans  of  God 
come  forth  to  us  in  their  settled  methods  of  execu- 
tion ;  and  in  inquiring  into  causes  we  unconsciously 
see  their  drift,  that  which  they  accomplish  and  were 
intended  to  accomplish. 

This  law  of  causation,  now  seen  to  be  so  funda- 
mental in  the  universe,  so  of  the  very  essence  of 
things,  has  given  rise  easily  to  two  errors.  It  has 
been  thought  to  exclude  miracles.  It  rather  makes 
way  for  miracles.  How  can  there  be  a  miracle,  ex- 
cept there  is  a  law  to  set  aside,  a  rule  to  overrule  ? 
If  there  is  no  firmness  in  the  law,  then  there  is  no 
glory  in  the  miracle.  Indeed,  coherence,  cogency, 
are  the  conditions  of  the  magnificent,  sovereign  ex- 
ception ;  just  as  critical  laws  and  established  tactics, 
in  their  general  sufficiency  and  soundness,  cast  lustre 
on  the  solitary  exceptions  which  genius  discovers  to 
them.  Both  the  condition  and  the  reason  of  miracles 
are  found  in  the  rigidity  of  the  law.     The  natural  law 


100  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

is  rigid  for  the  reasons  dwelt  upon,  but  being  rigid, 
it  is  liable  to  disguise  freedom,  and  strangle  personal- 
ity. Hence,  there  come  at  once  an  opportunity  and 
a  reason  for  breaking  through  this  web  of  law,  when 
it  threatens  to  become  a  veil  between  God  and  his 
children,  for  parting  it,  not  rending  it  asunder,  that' 
it  may  be  seen  to  be  but  a  veil,  on  whose  historic 
folds  the  divine,  creative  achievements  are  slowly 
wrought  by  the  hidden  hand  of  God. 

Another  like  and  more  inclusive  danger  to  phil- 
osophy has  appeared  in  connection  with  causation. 
The  mind,  so  constantly,  so  protractedly,  so  pleas- 
urably  occupied  in  tracing  forces,  and  in  the  expla- 
nations which  these  afford,  has  been  liable  to  deem 
this  the  true  type  of  all  thought,  and  to  regard  no 
solutions  as  satisfactory  which  do  not  eventuate  in 
this  connection.  Hence,  liberty,  the  freedom  of  the 
will,  has  come  to  be  looked  on  as  a  species  of  fortuity, 
hardly  to  be  recognized  in  sound  thought.  Physicists 
have  established  their  methods  and  conceptions  in 
the  region  of  physical  facts,  and  have  not  been  able 
even  to  understand  anything  which  transcends  them. 
Hence  philosophy,  metaphysics,  have  been  compelled 
to  accept,  in  detraction,  the  appellative,  transcend- 
ental ;  as  if  all  that  lies  beyond  physics  were  a  region 
of  moonshine.  This  view  we  hope  later  to  do  some- 
thing to  correct,  and,  while  we  accept  causation  as  a 
corner-stone  of  the  structure,  to  excuse  ourselves 
from  regarding  it  as  the  very  temple  itself,  its  pene- 
tralia and  worship. 

We  will  conclude  this  lecture  by  pointing  out  the 
necessity  of  a  correct,  thoroughly  causal  notion  of 


RESEMBLANCE  NOT  THE  SOLE  LAW  OF  THOUGHT.     10 1 

causation  itself,  in  order  to  the  plausibility  even  of 
this  attack  on  liberty.  Those  who  deny  the  validity 
of  the  idea  of  cause  and  effect,  probably  all  of  them, 
reject  liberty,  and  unite  the  two  classes  of  phenomena 
under  the  explanation  of  fixed  antecedents.  Yet 
what  is  more  obvious  than  that  inductively,  by  ob- 
servation, no  settled,  unvarying  sequences  can  be  es- 
tablished as  a  clearly  recognized  fact  between  motives 
and  actions  ;  between  circumstances  and  the  fruits 
of  them  in  conduct.  Every  one  sometimes  disap- 
points us,  and  few  indeed  expect  men  to  respond  to 
every  change  of  external  conditions  with  the  exact- 
itude of  a  steam-engine,  or  an  electric  battery.  The 
argument  against  liberty  has  always  tacitly  proceeded 
on  an  assumption  of  a  certain  force  in  motives,  of 
their  causal  connection  with  the  effects  suitable  to 
them ;  and  been  attended  with  the  further  assump- 
tion, that,  on  any  unusual  change  of  conduct,  there 
has  been  a  corresponding  change  in  the  inner  hold 
of  the  motives  on  the  feelings.  Now,  if  it  turn  out 
that  there  is  no  such  causal  relation,  no  grapple  of 
actions  by  persuasives,  the  opponent  of  liberty  is 
thrown  back  upon  the  much  more  difficult  proof  of 
fixed  antecedents,  to  wit :  that  given  circumstances 
are  always  followed  by  given  actions.  As  the  com- 
plete presentation  of  all  that  makes  up  circumstances, 
when  the  word  is  used  in  connection  with  choice,  is 
impossible,  and  as  the  partial  surveys  of  the  condi- 
tions of  human  actions  which  are  open  to  us,  exhibit 
great  variety  and  changeableness  of  results,  very 
diverse  actions  following  from  circumstances  closely 
allied,  a  plausible  proof  even  against  human  freedom, 


102  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGJON. 

on  this  ground  becomes  impracticable ;  while  a  cur- 
sory inquiry  seems  to  indicate  that  the  relation  be- 
tween antecedents  and  consequents,  when  conduct  is 
concerned,  is  by  no  means  so  invariable  as  it  is  when 
we  are  dealing  with  purely  physical  forces,  and  thus 
to  show  that  the  connections  are  not  of  the  same,  k 
settled  nature  in  the  two  cases.  It  is  the  secret 
force  of  the  idea  of  causation,  its  tending  to  go  be- 
yond its  own  field,  and  insinuate  itself  as  the  law  of 
relation,  of  dependence,  everywhere,  that  has  wrought 
against  human  liberty ;  and  while,  therefore,  we  reject 
the  proofs  of  the  necessitarian,  we  draw  from  his 
own  doctrine  this  conclusion :  that  he  at  least  should 
maintain  a  firm  hold  on  causes,  since  it  is  on  this 
ground  that  he  accepts  as  certain  a  change  in  the 
force  of  motives,  when  no  visible  occasion  for  it,  or 
trace  of  it,  is  seen.  If  the  causal  idea,  by  its  own 
force,  is  so  to  wed  the  motive  to  the  action  as  to 
imply  a  change  of  the  one  on  every  change  of  the 
other,  and  to  make  us  willing  to  believe  in  an  altered 
efficiency  in  inducements  which  remain  externally  the 
same,  then  must  the  notion  be  held  in  its  integrity, 
not  refined  away  into  simple  antecedence.  Thus 
do  we  bear  with  us  everywhere  the  secret  laws  of 
thought,  seizing  the  explanations  they  offer.  When 
causation  has  been  theoretically  rejected  for  matter, 
it  is  often  restored  for  mind,  and  rooted  up  in  its  true 
field,  is  surreptitiously  planted  in  another.  We  are 
constantly  reminded  that  it  is  the  first  labor  of  thought, 
the  true  province  of  philosophy,  to  assign  to  their  own 
field  and  phenomena  the  regulative  ideas  of  the  mind, 
and  to  maintain  their  primitive  authority  there :  to 


RESEMBLANCE  NOT  THE  SOLE  LAW  OF  THOUGHT.     103 

set  up  each  faculty,  an  autocrat  in  its  own  realms  ; 
the  nose  for  odors,  the  eye  for  sights,  the  memory  for 
recollections,  the  intuitive  reason,  in  its  diverse  func- 
tions, for  furnishing  the  just  connections  of  thought. 
We  thus  stand  where  the  hand  of  God  has  put  us, 
where  it  has  lifted  us,  that  we  may  overlook  his 
works,  physical  and  spiritual ;  that  we  may  see  the 
things  beneath  our  feet,  about  and  above  us,  the  ex- 
cellent things  into  which  we  have  been  born,  the 
heavenly  things  into  which  we  are  to  be  born,  as  the 
soul,  breaking  its  chrysalis,  shall  come  to  the  full  in- 
heritance of  its  enlarged  powers.  There  is  nothing 
so  damaging  to  God's  grace  and  our  immortality  as 
not  to  use  the  eyes  he  gives  us,  as  not  to  climb, 
with  mingled  faith  and  vision,  the  slant  sunbeams 
of  truth. 

We  have  now  directed  attention  to  these  points 
in  connection  with  causation ;  first,  its  primitive 
character  ;  second,  its  exclusive  application  to  phys- 
ical events ;  third,  its  absolute  necessity  for  their 
apprehension  ;  fourth,  the  impossibility  of  substitu- 
ting any  other  idea  for  it  ;  and  fifth,  that  by  means 
of  it  a  common  ground  of  activity  between  us  and 
God  is  secured. 


LECTURE  V. 

matter;  its  existence  and  nature. 

Having  finished  the  discussion  of  cause  and  effect 
— the  law  both  of  force  and  thought,  which  applies 
in  the  physical  world — we  wish,  before  passing  to 
the  second  correlative  branch  of  knowledge,  whose 
events  transpire  under  the  light  of  other  ideas,  to  use 
this  notion  in  the  present  lecture  in  an  inquiry  into 
the  existence  and  nature  of  matter. 

Matter  is  the  seat  and  source  of  all  forces.  Forces, 
in  it  and  through  it,  play  on  to  each  other,  and  the 
point  of  departure  and  return  in  their  causal  inter- 
action, is  ever  some  form  of  matter.  The  nature 
and  certainty  of  our  knowledge  of  the  material  world 
have  constituted  one  of  the  most  protracted  and  per- 
plexed of  philosophical  discussions.  Many  have  so 
far  missed  the  proof  as  to  have  lost  hold  of  this  ma- 
terial side  of  our  being,  and  to  have  cast  the  concep- 
tions of  the  ear  and  the  eye  about  the  mind's  own 
activity,  as  clouds  encompass  the  earth,  springing 
from  it  and  returning  to  it,  hovering  in  airy  spaces, 
absorbed  into  invisible  vapor,  condensed  again  into 
visible  form  as  the  forces  from  beneath  and  above 
play  upon  them.  The  great  difficulty  in  explaining 
the  perceptive  processes  of  mind,  as  indeed  every 
other  process,  has  lain  in  an  oversight  of  the  mind's 
original  activity ;  its  unobtrusive  and  constant  con- 
tribution, to  every  act  of  comprehension,  of  the  prin- 


MATTER  ;    ITS    EXISTENCE    AND    NATURE.         105 

ciples,  the  laws  of  that  act.  Sensation,  reflection, 
memory,  are  prominent,  salient  forms  of  activity, 
but  that  mental  rendering  of  the  rational  condftions 
under  which  they  take  place,  which  seem  rather  to  be 
pervasive  qualities  of  each  act  than  any  direct  addi- 
tion thereto — this  has  continually  escaped  attention, 
and  presented  the  processes  of  mind  in  a  confused, 
crippled  and  insufficient  way,  through  the  loss  of 
that  which  is  most  peculiar  to  them.  Thus,  in  the 
act  of  perception,  the  part  which  the  notion  of  causa- 
tion plays  being  wholly  overlooked,  or  inadequately 
apprehended,  has  left  the  proof  of  the  existence  of 
matter  unsatisfactory,  and  has  led  to  very  untenable 
statements  of  what  the  mind  reaches  in  perception. 

The  first  and  spontaneous  impression  in  reference 
to  sensations  and  perceptions  seems  to  have  been, 
that  they  lie,  as  purely  mental  phenomena,  wholly 
within  the  mind  itself,  and  therefore,  do  not  directly, 
of  their  own  sufficiency,  put  us  in  connection  with 
matter,  as  a  physical  existence  forever  outside  con- 
sciousness. An  oversight  of  the  mind's  necessary 
action  under  the  notion  of  cause  and  effect,  thus 
later  led  to  the  conclusion,  that  if  the  mind  does  not 
directly  transcend  itself  in  sensation,  does  not  break 
out  of  the  charmed  circle  of  its  own  states  and  acts, 
does  not  penetrate  to  a  world  beyond  itself,  it  has  all 
the  forms  and  the  conditions  of  its  activity  within 
itself;  and  dealing  with  these,  strictly  its  own  phe- 
nomena, has  the  full  complement  of  existence  without 
any  outside  world  whatsoever.  Admittedly,  all  that 
the  mind  directly  knows,  all  that  is  permeated  by 
its  own  consciousness,  are  its  own  states  and  acts. 
5* 


106  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

These,  therefore,  granted  to  it,  render,  it  is  said,  the 
belief  in  an  outside  world  unnecessary.  Its  sensations, 
in  which,  at  first  sight,  the  mind  seems  to  reach  some- 
thing other  than  itself,  being  nevertheless,  on  further 
thought,  shown  to  be  wholly  within  itself,  give  it  the 
entire  material  of  knowledge,  aside  from  any  agency 
of  matter ;  and  matter,  therefore,  as  superfluous,  drops 
away.  Hamilton,  and  many  others  with  him,  pushed 
by  these  and  like  considerations,  have  affirmed  that 
matter  is  directly  reached  in  perception,  and  that 
therein  is  found  our  proof  of  its  existence.  If  by 
perception  were  meant  the  entire,  complex  act  of  the 
mind  in  connection  therewith,  both  the  effect  in  the 
mind  which  is  due  to  an  external  object,  and  the 
mind's  inferential  grasp  of  this  object,  then  we  should 
heartily  assent  to  the  statement.  We  look  upon  per- 
ception as  a  wonderfully  complicated  and  rapid  pro- 
cess, as  adding  to  a  first  susceptibility  much  acquired 
skill,  and  compacting  many  impressions  and  judg- 
ments into  a  penetrative  and  powerful  act  of  mind, 
in  which  it  especially  displays  its  constructive  and 
independent  strength.  Under  the  notion  of  causa- 
tion, and  by  the  teaching  of  protracted  experience, 
impressions,  impotent  in  themselves,  are  transformed 
into  far-reaching  and  firm  conclusions — conclusions 
so  firm  and  far-reaching,  that  they  seem  to  be  lodged 
in  the  very  organ  of  sense  itself;  and  a  landscape 
which  we  have  constructed  out  of  scarcely  more  ma- 
terial than  Aladdin  found  requisite  for  his  palaces, 
seems  to  be  seen  and  known  and  felt  by  us  through 
all  its  solid  substance.  We  do  not  understand  Ham- 
ilton, however,  in  his  doctrine  of  perception  to  refer 


matter;  its  existence  and  nature.      107 

to  this  inferential,  complex  nature  of  the  act ;  but 
rather  to  conceive  the  pure  perceptive  process  as  a 
direct  and  simple  grasp  of  matter  by  mind,  a  sufficient 
and  ultimate  proof  of  its  existence.  To  this,  we  de- 
cidedly object ;  believing  as  we  do,  that  the  pregnant 
idea  on  which  the  existence  as  well  as  the  nature  of  . 
the  physical  world  rest,  is  that  of  cause  and  effect. 
That  Hamilton  is  to  be  understood  as  affirming  this 
direct  knowledge  of  matter  in  the  perceptive  element 
alone  of  perception,  is  clear  from  the  following  pas- 
sage :  "  Suppose  that  the  total  object  of  consciousness 
in  perception  is  equal  to  1 2  ;  and  suppose  that  the  ex- 
ternal reality  contributes  6,  the  material  sense  3,  and 
the  mind  3  :  this  may  enable  you  to  form  some  rude 
conjecture  of  the  nature  of  the  object  of  perception." 
Plainly,  Hamilton  supposes  that  to  the  extent  of  6, 
one  half  of  the  phenomenon  in  that  state  of  mind 
which  is  the  basis  of  perception,  matter  finds  entrance 
to  consciousness,  and  is  intellectually  permeated  by 
it.  This  is  not  the  doctrine,  but  quite  opposed  to  it, 
that  the  pure  mental  state  and  product  present  "in 
perception  is  made  the  necessary  condition  of  the 
mind's  inferentially  reaching  the  external  world,  is 
the  salient  effect  whence  the  mind  strikes  outward  to 
the  cause,  and,  in  its  further  explanation  and  expan- 
sion, constructs  the  visible  universe. 

Examine  sensation,  perception,  in  each  of  the 
senses,  commencing  with  the  feebler.  What  alliance 
is  there  between  a  given  odor  and  a  rose  or  a  gera- 
nium ?  How  totally  experimental  is  the  reference  of 
the  one  to  the  other !  How  completely  we  fail  to 
reach  any  matter,  even  the  slightest  particle,  through 


108  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

this  sense,  believing  indeed  in  the  presence  of  such 
floating  particles  only  through  our  idea  of  cause. 
Almost  as  manifest  is  the  same  fact  in  the  case  of 
taste.  A  flavor  has  no  likeness  to  any  form  of  mat- 
ter ;  no  power  directly  to  disclose  matter.  We  learn 
to  refer  distinct  flavors  to  their  several  material  sour- 
ces ;  but  we  do  this  only  by  protracted  trial,  and 
then  may  find  a  decided  taste  on  the  tongue  induced 
by  disease,  or  by  an  electric  current,  not  referable 
to  any  object.  So  far  does  this  sense  fail  to  dis- 
close real  outside  existence.  On  sound,  we  need  not 
pause.  Obviously,  the  thing  heard,  the  source  of 
the  sound,  is  remote  and  inferred.  In  the  case  of 
touch,  the  object  lies  wholly  outside  the  organ,  in 
no  way  penetrates  it,  and  can  constitute  no  part, 
much  less  one-half  part,  of  the  sensation,  which  con- 
sciousness permeates,  and,  by  permeation,  reveals. 
Close  all  other  senses  and  deal  with  this  alone,  and 
the  inferential  nature  of  the  results  are  quite  obvious. 
We  cannot  certainly  say  in  every  tactile  sensation,  that 
anything  has  touched  the  organ.  Some  prickling 
of  the  finger-ends  themselves  may  explain  it ;  or,  the 
fact  of  contact  being  settled,  how  explorative  and 
protracted  must  be  the  touch  to  lead  us  to  a  tolerably 
safe  conclusion  as  to  the  real  object  which  has  occa- 
sioned the  impression.  How  many  things  are  smooth, 
how  many  hard,  how  many  tickle  or  burn  the  skin  ! 
'  If,  now,  we  infer  that  the  fabric  in  our  hand  is  velvet, 
because  of  its  softness,  is  it  not  equally  obvious  that 
it  is  to  us  a  fabric,  a  something,  because  it  responds 
to  a  sensation  ?  What  is  the  particular  inference  but 
a  specific   form  of  the   general  inference  ?     If  we 


MATTER  J    ITS    EXISTENCE    AND    NATURE.         IC>9 

reach  the  idea  of  velvet  through  softness,  do  we  not 
the  general  notion  of  matter,  through  the  general 
fact  of  sensation  ?     Most  obviously  we  do. 

Passing  to  sight,  the  most  difficult  to  analyze,  as  it 
is  the  most  complex  of  perceptive  processes,  we  ask, 
What  is  it  that  we  see  ?  As  we  commonly  use  lan- 
guage, undoubtedly,  the  remote  objects,  the  moon 
and  the  stars,  the  fields  and  the  trees,  the  walls  and 
the  windows.  Popular  speech  includes  in  the  word, 
see,  all  that  amplifies  and  completes  vision.  We  say, 
confidently  say,  that  we  have  seen  a  man,  when  the 
eye  has  actually  fallen  on  no  part  of  his  person,  but 
he  has  been  recognized  by  his  garments  and  walk 
simply.  That  portion  of  the  complete  act  of  sight 
to  which  Hamilton  wishes  to  draw  attention,  and  to 
affirm  in  it  a  direct  knowledge  of  matter,  is  the  purely 
organic  part  occasioned  by  the  light.  "  But  in  the 
second  place,  what  is  meant  by  the  external  object 
perceived  ?  Nothing  can  be  conceived  more  ridiculous 
than  the  opinion  of  philosophers  in  regard  to  this. 
For  example',  it  has  been  curiously  held — and  Reid  is 
no  exception — that,  in  looking  at  the  sun,  moon,  or  any 
other  object  of  sight,  we  are,  on  the  one  doctrine,  ac- 
tually conscious  of  these  distant  objects  ;  or,  on  the 
other,  that  these  distant  objects  are  those  really  rep- 
resented in  the  mind.  Nothing  can  be  more  absurd  : 
we  perceive,  through  no  sense,  aught  external  but 
what  is  in  immediate  relation  and  in  immediate  con- 
tact with  its  organ  ;  and  that  is  true  which  Democ- 
ritus  of  old  asserted,  that  all  our  senses  are  only 
modifications  of  touch.  Through  the  eye  we  per- 
ceive nothing  but  the  rays  of  light  in  relation  to,  and 


110  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

in  contact  with,  the  retina  ;  what  we  add  to  this  per- 
ception must  not  be  taken  into  account." 

Do  we  then  directly  know  the  retina,  and  the 
image  on  it  in  vision  ?  Not  at  all.  Our  entire  knowl- 
edge of  the  structure  and  relations  of  the  eye  is  an 
after-knowledge,  picked  up  itself  through  independent 
perception,  not  disclosed  primitively  in  those  very 
perceptions  of  which  this  organ  is,  from  the  outset,  a 
means.  We  know  nothing  of  the  ear,  through  hear- 
ing ;  of  the  eye,  through  seeing ;  of  the  brain,  through 
thinking,  The  brain  must  be  seen  to  understand 
its  structure,  and  the  eye  disclosed  to  a  second  eye 
before  even  the  existence  of  the  retina  and  the  image 
it  holds  can  be  known.  In  all  this  discussion,  the 
body  is  just  as  much  outside  of  the  mind,  its  exist- 
ence, form  and  functions  to  be  learned  by  the  mind, 
our  senses  in  turn  exploring  each  other,  as  any  por- 
tion of  matter  whatever.  We  may  say,  that  the 
likeness  between  the  picture  on  the  retina  and  the 
external  objects  it  presents,  is  philosophically  unfor- 
tunate, as  it  leads  us  to  think  that  the  mind  knows 
this  image  in  some  way,  for  what  it  is  in  itself,  and  is 
thus  easily  united  by  it  to  the  corresponding  external 
fact.  We  suppose  that  the  connection  between  the 
state  of  the  retina  and  what  is  sight  to  the  mind,  is 
just  as  inscrutable,  and,  so  to  speak,  arbitrary,  as  be- 
tween odor  and  the  contact  of  the  floating  effluvia 
with  the  lining  of  the  nostril.  If  it  should  be  shown, 
as  has  been  suggested,  that  the  optic  nerve  is  actually 
affected  in  vision  by  the  different  degrees  of  heat 
which  belong  to  the  different  shades  of  color  and 
light  on  the  retina,  that  the  perceptive  surface  is 


MATTER  ;     ITS    EXISTENCE  AND    NATURE.         1 1  I 

below  the  screen  which  receives  the  images,-  and  not 
identical  with  it,  we  do  not  imagine  that  the  philoso- 
phical bearings  of  the  question  would  be  the  least 
altered ;  though  this  immediate  knowledge  of  the 
image  on  the  retina  would  thereby  become  a  palp- 
able absurdity.  Even  now  it  is  scarcely  less.  Double 
and  inverted  images  render  to  the  mind  a  single  and 
correct  impression  ;  because  these  images  are  not 
the  direct  objects,  but  the  indirect  means,  of  vision. 
Press  aside  the  axis  of  one  eye,  and  without  altering 
the  image,  sight  becomes  double. 

The  extent  to  which  vision  is  made  up  of  judg- 
ments has  become  more  and  more  evident.  The 
form,  distance,  and  size  of  an  object  are  matters  of 
immediate  and  rapid  inference  from  the  data  given 
by  the  eye.  Hence  it  is,  that  the  mind  supplies,  in 
the  recesses  of  a  mirror,  the  exact  position  and  rela- 
tions of  objects  which  do  not  directly  meet  the  eye  ; 
and  it  sometimes  fails,  when  the  reflection  is  very 
perfect,  to  distinguish  the  image  as  an  image,  from 
that  which  it  represents.  If,  then,  the  size  and  forms 
of  things  are  matters  of  judgment  in  this  sense,  how 
plain  is  it,  that  the  objects  themselves,  known  only  un- 
der these  essential  features,  are  also  a  thing  inferred. 
Nor  do  we,  any  the  more,  know  directly  the  light, 
the  intervening  agent  between  us  and  visible  objects. 
Indeed,  that  color  is  due  to  the  light,  and  not  inher- 
ent in  the  flower,  the  cloud,  the  shell  is  a  scientific 
discovery  consequent  upon  the  resolution  of  light 
in  the  prism.  The  method  in  which  the  mind  em- 
ploys the  organs  of  vision  is  evident  from  many  illus- 
trations.     Take,  as  an  example,  the  following :   A 


112  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

portion  of  the  landscape,  somewhat  remote,  is  caught 
sight  of  through  a  seam  or  crevice,  like  that  which 
separates  the  inner  edge  of  a  half-open  door  from  its 
casement.  The  eyes,  at  the  distance  of  a  few  feet 
from  the  opening,  view  each  a  distinct  portion  of  the 
remote  objects.  The  two  parts  of  the  view  are  thus 
separated  by  an  invisible  interval.  If  one  eye  is 
now  closed,  and  the  sight  concentrated  through  the 
other,  this  portion  will  still  remain  distinct  on  the 
re-opening  of  the  eye,  while  the  part  which  this  eye 
is  ready  to  add,  will  scarcely,  if  at  all,  be  discerned. 
By  reversing  the  process,  a  like  prominence  may  be 
given  to  the  objects  seen  through  the  eye,  before 
closed.  If  now  we  strive  to  look  equally  through 
both  eyes  at  once,  we  shall  see  two  crevices  separated 
by  a  narrow  strip  of  wood,  made  up  of  the  opposite 
edges  of  the  door  and  of  the  casement,  meeting  in  the 
middle.  This  and  like  examples  show,  first,  that  the 
mind  uses  the  eyes,  and  is  not  mechanically  subject 
to  their  impressions  ;  since  it  subordinates  one  to 
the  other,  and  unites  visible  objects  as  suits  its  con- 
venience, around  a  centre  of  its  own  selection.  It 
also  shows,  that  when  it  submits  itself  simply  to  the 
impressions  on  the  organs,  these  often  distort  the 
facts,  are  emphatically  fictions,  and  wait  the  correc- 
tion of  varied  conditions  of  judgment.  Not  even 
mere  color  can  be  shown  to  be  exclusively  of  external 
origin.  Before  the  closed  eyes  there  is  oftentimes  a 
play  of  distinct  colors  which  have  no  connection  with 
outside  objects.  The  centre  of  the  now  obscure  field 
of  vision  is  occupied  by  colors  which  come  and  go  in 
distinct  succession. 


MATTER  ;    ITS    EXISTENCE    AND    NATURE.         I  1 3 

This  doctrine  of  direct  perception  seems  also  to  be 
untenable,  when  we  contemplate  the  movement  in 
the  organs  of  sense,  which  is  the  condition  of  the 
mind's  action,  which  calls  it  forth.  This  movement  is 
inward  rather  than  outward,  while  the  activity  of  the 
thoughts  seems  to  be  expended  purely  in  inferences. 
The  sound — that  is  the  motion  which  is  its  condition 
— enters  the  ear,  passes  through  its  various  media  of 
communication,  affects  the  nerve,  and  by  it,  as  a  mod- 
ified impression,  reaches  the  brain,  where  it  seems  to 
find  arrest,  and  to  wait  that  use  and  interpretation 
which  the  mind  makes  of  it.  Thus  is  it  also  with 
the  light.  It  creeps  in  with  modified  movement  to 
this  centre  of  sensibility.  Every  portion  of  the  chain 
is  essential,  and  it  finds  attachment  and  completion 
in  the  cerebrum  alone.  Of  any  outer  movement  of 
comprehension  along  the  organs  of  sense  consequent 
on  this  in-going  impression,  we  have  no  proof  what- 
ever. The  point  of  final  solution  and  transition, 
therefore,  seems  to  be  found  in  the  brain,  and  the 
ultimate  thing  apprehended  and  interpreted  is  a  ner- 
vous affection,  a  modified  state  of  a  nerve  centre. 

Two  things,  then,  are  evident :  first,  from  our  own 
consciousness,  that  the  mind  does  not,  in  sight,  in 
hearing,  directly  know  those  nerve  conditions  which 
are  the  final  occasions  of  perception  :  and,  moreover, 
that  if  it  did,  it  could  not  by  them  directly  discern 
an  external  world.  If  we  affirm  the  whole  nervous 
system  to  be  an  organ  of  perception,  the  argument 
is  not  essentially  altered,  it  is  still  dealing  with  its 
own  subjective  impressions.  The  motion  is  inward, 
becoming  as  its  latest  form,  the  form  in  which  it  is  a 


I  14  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

condition  of  perception,  a  play  of  nerve  matter.  This 
last  step  is  the  connecting  link  with  mind,  and  is  ut- 
terly unlike  the  object  which  occasions  it.  We  reach 
the  same  conclusion  also  from  the  surprising  way  in 
which  the  mind  substitutes,  under  protracted  trial, 
one  sense  for  another.  Ordinarily,  the  eye  is  the 
great  portal  of  knowledge.  Its  double  leaves  stand 
wide  in  all  our  waking  hours,  and  the  pomp  of  earth, 
and  the  glory  of  the  heavens,  find  ample  entrance 
there.  Indeed,  compared  with  it,  any  other  sense  is 
a  bastion  wicket,  turning  reluctlantly  on  rusty  hinges 
to  admit  a  single  messenger  on  some  odd  occasion. 
Let,  however,  these  front  gates  of  the  soul  be  swung 
shut  forever,  and  the  clamorous  thoughts  be  forced 
to  seek  another  exit,  and,  with  strange  skill,  they  ex- 
plore the  forgotten,  over-grown  path  of  touch  ;  soon 
make  of  it  a  highway,  till  half  the  facts  that  had 
trooped  daily  up  to  the  entrance  of  vision  find  easy 
access  here.  Engineering,  generalship,  the  most  dif- 
ficult and  ranging  of  out-door  employments,  have 
been  brought  within  the  scope  of  those  perfectly 
blind.  Now,  this  sudden  elevation  of  a  sense  into  a 
new  position,  shows  at  once  how  much  our  percep- 
tions are  dependent  on  the  mind's  cultivation,  and 
how  feeble  and  barren  they  are  in  themselves.  How 
we  grope  and  sink  into  an  attitude  of  helpless,  almost 
hopeless,  inquiry,  when  suddenly  blinded,  yet,  how 
this  passes  away  under  familiarity,  till  in  rare  instan- 
ces the  unfortunate  one  seems  marvellously  endowed 
again,  penetrating  the  outside  world  with  an  aston- 
ishing keenness  of  perception  ! 

Forms  of  delirium  and  mental   aberration   show 


matter;  its  existence  and  nature.       115 

also  in  a  striking  way  the  method  of  the  mind's 
action.  A  physical  derangement  of  the  nervous 
media  of  thought  and  perception  is  attended,  in 
these  cases,  with  a  firm  belief  in  the  immediate,  vis- 
ible existence  of  objects  wholly  unreal.  This  fact 
shows  that  the  mind  does  not  directly  know  the  char- 
acter of  the  nervous  states  that  condition  its  action, 
and  that  it  projects  and  constructs  the  impressions 
consequent  thereon,  into  a  world  so  real,  that  it  does 
not  for  a  moment  doubt  its  existence.  If,  then,  the 
visionary  conceptions,  evoked  by  abnormal  nervous 
states,  are  apparently  valid  to  the  perceptions,  how 
plain  is  it  that  the  normal,  perceptive  act  turns  equally 
on  physical  conditions  unknown  to  it  as  such,  and 
made  the  grounds  of  a  construction  purely  mental  ? 
Subjective  states,  every  way  unlike  the  material  ob- 
jects and  media  which  occasion  them,  are  used  by 
the  mind  as  the  conditions  of  its  perceptions,  and  it 
is  so  governed  by  these  that  it  cannot  go  back  of 
them,  even  when  they  contradict  its  healthy,  daily 
experience. 

Moreover,  if  we  reflect  on  the  relation  of  mental 
phenomena  to  consciousness,  we  shall  come  to  the 
same  conclusion,  that  perception  is  an  indirect,  not  a 
direct,  process.  From  this  source  has  come  the  bur- 
den of  that  general  conviction  among  philosophers, 
that  the  mind  cannot  directly  know  matter.  All  the 
states  and  activities  of  mind  have  one  invariable  con- 
dition, consciousness.  We  are  alike  conscious  of  an 
inference  and  of  a  sensation.  Therefore,  so  far  as 
direct  knowledge  extends,  consciousness  must  ex- 
tend, since  nothing  can  be  in  the  mind's  states  and 


Il6  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

activities  which  is  not  permeated  by  consciousness ; 
and  nothing  which  is  not  of  its  own  states  and  acts 
can  be  otherwise  than  indirectly,  inferentially  known. 
Indeed,  this  is  precisely  what  is  meant  by  indirect, 
as  contrasted  with  direct,  primitive  knowledge  ;  that 
the  last  lies  wholly  within  the  mind,  while  the  former 
inferentially,  in  thought,  transcends  the  mind  by  virtue 
of  premises  present  to  it.  If  it  be  said,  that  we  are 
simply  begging  the  question,  in  saying  that  percep- 
tion is  not  direct  knowledge,  we  answer,  What  other 
definition  are  you  prepared  to  give  of  direct  and  in- 
direct knowledge  than  that  the  one  does  not  tran- 
scend the  mind,  and  the  other  does  ?  And,  if  you 
affirm  that  in  this  sense,  perception  is  still  direct 
knowledge,  we  ask,  How  can  it  be  unless  the  phenom- 
ena of  matter  as  perceived,  are  then  and  there,  phe- 
nomena of  mind,  permeated  by  consciousness,  taken 
within  the  precincts  of  the  soul  ?  Thus  the  very  de- 
sire to  establish  an  outside  world  in  direct  percep- 
tion, identifies  its  phenomena  with  those  of  the  mind, 
issues  in  idealism,  and  abolishes  matter  altogether. 
Matter  only  remains  matter,  with  which  to  make  an 
outside  world,  on  condition  of  leaving  it,  in  all  its 
forms  and  forces  beyond  the  mind,  beyond  conscious- 
ness, there  to  be  reached  in  a  secondary,  inferential 
way.  When  we  speak  of  perception,  in  popular  lan- 
guage, as  direct  knowledge,  we  do  so  on  the  ground 
of  its  ruling,  initial,  characteristic  element,  not  as 
excluding  from  it  all  inferences. 

Having  now  established,  as  we  believe,  the  proof 
of  the  existence  of  matter  as  resting  on  the  causal 
action  of  the  mind,  leading  it  to  distinguish  its  vari- 


MATTER  J    ITS    EXISTENCE   AND    NATURE.         1 1 7 

ous  states  from  one  another,  and  to  refer  them  tc 
distinct  sources,  we  pass  to  the  second  question, 
What  is  matter  ?  We  answer,  It  is  in  its  distinct 
elements,  permanent  forms  of  force  ;  it  is  force. 
Here  we  shall  fortunately  agree  with  many  physicists, 
whose  society  we  seem  scarcely  to  have  cultivated. 
The  conclusion  that  matter  is  force,  is  pressed  upon 
us,  as  the  simplest  one  open  to  us,  as  the  one  that 
rests  without  redundance  of  supposition  on  the  proof. 
All  that  we  know  of  matter,  is  its  power  to  effect 
changes  ;  are  its  phenomena,  the  appearances  to 
which  it  gives  rise.  These,  therefore,  must  be  re- 
ferred to  a  source  or  cause :  and  as  to  us,  they  only 
evince  force,  force  becomes  their  sufficient  explana- 
tion. We  are  to  bear  in  mind  that  this  force,  the 
constant  source  of  phenomena,  is,  in  itself,  perfectly 
unphenomenal,  and,  therefore,  cannot  be  handled  by 
the  imagination.  We  cannot  conceive  it,  and  stri- 
ving to  conceive  it,  we  immediately  transcend  it  by 
investing  it  with  some  of  those  appearances  to  which 
it  gives  rise,  as  effects,  but  which  are  not  of  its  very 
essence.  When,  therefore,  the  mind  gives  to  each 
molecule  a  material  centre,  it  is  only  a  trick  of  the 
imagination,  striving  to  restore  in  minutiae  what  it 
has  lost  in  mass,  likening  the  infinitesimal  part  to  the 
whole  of  which  it  is  a  portion,  and  presenting  it  under 
the  same  phenomenal  dress.  The  imagination  is  the 
faculty  that  chiefly  embarrasses  us  in  accepting  mat- 
ter as  pure  force,  and  it  is  the  eye  that  principally 
rules  the  imagination  in  its  belief  in  a  stubborn,  ma- 
terial centre,  as  an  ultimate  product  of  analysis. 
The  words,  green,  brown,  black,  have  a  meaning  for 


Il8  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

the  imagination  :  the  words,  pure  force,  that  is,  force 
aside  from  any  visible  appearance,  any  motion  it  is 
occasioning,  any  work  it  is  doing,  have  no  meaning 
to  the  imagination ;  that  is,  can  be  handled  by  it 
under  no  image.  Hence,  it  is  uneasy  and  restless 
under  so  thin,  visionary  a  conception,  and  wishes 
a  world  of  more  palpable  imagery.  This  it  gives 
to  itself  when  it  re-habilitates  molecules  in  sensible 
properties,  and  says  that  the  centres  of  matter,  that 
is  visible,  stubborn  outside  matter,  are  also  material, 
that  is,  visible,  tangible,  unconcessive,  under  the  sen- 
ses. This  they,  doubtless,  would  be  under  organs 
sufficiently  acute  to  reach  them,  since,  to  such  organs, 
they  would  give  rise  to  new  phenomena,  revealing, 
indeed,  their  existence,  but  not  disclosing  their  na- 
ture, as  simple  centres  of  force.  Thus,  exactly,  the 
child's  ball  is  known  to  him  by  hardness  and  color, 
though  the  very  nature  and  force  of  its  being  are 
still  hidden  and  invisible.  What  we  say,  then,  is, 
that  to  the  reason,  which  can  alone  deal  with  the  ul- 
timate nature  of  matter,  and  not  to  the  senses,  or  to 
their  echo  in  the  second  degree,  the  imagination, 
matter  is  force — the  permanent  power  to  do  what  it 
does,  to  make  the  impressions  which  belong  to  it. 
Nothing  can  be  simpler,  or  more  unavoidable,  than 
this  conclusion.  It  is  axiomatic  under  the  notion  of 
causation.  Any  other  conclusion  gives  to  matter 
more  than  the  phenomena  require. 

What,  then,  do  we  know  of  the  nature  of  this  force, 
with  which  the  mind  sustains  as  a  substance,  a  per- 
manent existence,  equally  the  changeable  appearances, 
and  the  more   abiding  forms  of  matter  ?      Plainly, 


MATTER  ;    ITS    EXISTENCE   AND    NATURE.         1 1 9 

nothing,  save  the  naked  fact  that  it  gives  rise  in  each 
case  to  a  given  class  of  phenomena.  Its  effects  pre- 
cisely measure  and  express  it.  They  are  the  form  of 
its  being,  and  the  whole  of  its  phenomenal  being,  at 
least  so  far  as  we  are  concerned.  They  are  as  essential 
to  it  as  it  is  to  them.  To  know  all  that  a  force  can  do, 
is  to  know  the  force,  since  this  is  what  makes  it  to  be 
a  force,  and  defines  it  as  one.  We  may,  indeed,  assert 
the  possibility  of  other  kinds  of  sensations  in  addi- 
tion to  those  known  to  us,  and  imagine  new  impres- 
sions made  by  the  various  forms  of  matter  in  other 
organs  of  perception,  but  we  thereby  get  no  new 
view  of  the  nature  of  force,  since,  if  we  were  pos- 
sessed of  a  half  thousand,  instead  of  a  half  dozen, 
senses,  they  would  all  only  render  phenomena,  and 
leave  the  essential  nature  and  being  of  matter  unap- 
proached.  Indeed,  it  may  be  questioned  whether 
this  asking  after  the  quality  and  essence  of  matter  is 
not  to  us  an  essentially  deceptive  inquiry,  since  the 
only  possible  answer  we  can  conceive  of,  would  be 
the  giving  of  further  phenomena  attendant  upon  it, 
and  these,  however  multiplied,  would  still  leave  the 
very  force  unknown.  Every  form  of  force  is  defined 
to  us  in  the  senses  to  which  it  appeals,  and  the  effects 
wrought  in  them  are  necessarily  its  final  definition. 
To  one  who  should  have  eyes  only,  color  would  be 
the  entire  result  which  force  could  compass  in  making 
itself  known,  in  declaring  the  nature  of  its  being. 
If  one  sense  after  another  were  added,  hearing,  taste, 
touch,  new  circles  of  presentation  would  be  present, 
and  a  given  kind  of  matter  or  force  would  show  itself 
as  that  capable  of  accomplishing  a  certain  aggregate 


120  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

of  results.  That  is  to  say,  the  force  is  in  the  effects, 
and  the  effects  are  so  of,  and  over,  the  force ;  that  we 
know  all  that  is  to  be  known  of  it,  both  in  the  mode 
and  measure  of  its  being,  in  knowing  these.  It  is  an 
impractical,  if  not  an  absurd,  inquiry,  to  ask  for  any- 
thing more.  Our  senses  are  present  for  the  precise 
purpose  of  disclosing  the  material  world  ;  that  is,  the 
effects  of  that  world,  not  its  intrinsic,  unphenomenal 
nature.  We  may  fancy  as  an  illustration  of  the  at- 
titude of  matter  toward  mind,  the  presence  of  a  spirit 
seeking  to  make  itself  known.  It  strives  to  assail 
the  senses,  affect  the  touch,  make  a  noise,  to  startle 
the  eye.  On  no  other  condition  can  it  disclose  itself, 
and  the  phenomena  it  is  thought  to  occasion  become 
immediately  our  notion  of  it — a  sheeted  ghost,  usurp- 
ing the  midnight  hour. 

If  now  the  mind  seems  ready  to  revert  to  the  posi- 
tion of  the  materialist,  and  to  inquire,  Why  have  any 
force  at  all,  any  cause,  if  we  only  know  it  in  and  by 
its  effects,  and  these  are  its  entire  measure  ?  we  can 
only  answer,  Because  the  mind  persists  in  assuming 
it,  and  if  we  check  its  reasoning,  dissolve  into  noth- 
ing its  connections  here,  we  loosen  the  bonds  of  all 
thought,  and  find  ourselves  afloat  on  liquid,  facile, 
fickle  appearances,  with  no  harbor  nor  anchorage. 
If  we  are  to  deny  the  chain  of  connection  at  its  con- 
clusion, deny  it  at  the  outset,  and  ceasing  at  once  to 
seek  for  causes,  cease  to  either  ask  or  to  render  the 
reasons  dependent  on  them.  Forego  all  discussion  on 
physical  things ;  as  a  mere  repetition  of  consecutive 
facts  can  be  no  ground  on  which  to  infer  a  future 
sequence,  unless  one  cause  is  at  least  granted,  to  wit : 


MATTER;     ITS    EXISTENCE    AND    NATURE.         121 

that  the  often-renewed  experiences  of  the  mind  incline 
it  to  the  expectation  of  like  relations.  In  brief,  we  must 
accept  this  intangible  cause,  or  the  locks  of  the  head 
are  shorn,  and  our  rational  strength  departs  from  us. 
If  such  be  the  only  possible  knowledge  of  forces, 
and  yet  such  also  the  absolute  necessity  of  admitting 
them,  it  is  further  plain,  that  the  physicist,  in  gen- 
eralizing all  things  into  force,  has  reached  a  verbal, 
rather  than  an  actual,  unity.  Many  forces,  not  one 
force,  is  the  just  conception  of  matter.  We  have,  so 
far  as  now  appears,  at  least  as  many  distinct,  per- 
manently diverse  forms  of  force  as  we  have  elements, 
or  kinds  of  matter.  Sixty-three  irresolvable  elements 
— elements  that  present  specific  and  unchangeable 
properties,  necessitate  the  belief  in  as  many  forms 
of  force,  of  which  these  are  the  ultimate  expression. 
To  say  that  all  matter  is  force,  therefore,  is  not  to 
say  that  it  is  identical  in  being,  nor  in  the  least  to 
wipe  away  those  distinctions  in  kind,  which  stub- 
bornly linger  in  experience,  no  matter  how  trying 
the  processes  of  dissolution  which  mechanical  force, 
heat,  electricity  and  chemical  affinity  supply.  More- 
over, force  has  other  peculiar  forms  of  existence  more 
detached,  general  and  independent  than  those  which 
pertain  to  the  very  essence  of  matter,  and  give  it  a 
separate,  ultimate,  uniform,  molecular  character  in 
each  of  its  elements.  Mechanical  force,  the  forces 
of  cohesion,  of  attraction,  of  crystallization  and  of 
chemical  affinity,  electric,  thermal  and  vital  forces  are 
of  this  nature.  It  has  been  shown,  under  what  is 
called  the  correlation  of  forces,  that  some  of  these 
are  intimately  united  ;  a  further  correspondence  and 
6 


122  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

equivalence  may  be  revealed,  but  their  entire  identity 
is  far  from  yet  appearing.  A  portion  of  them  at  least 
replace  each  other  in  definite  quantities.  A  given 
amount  of  chemical  affinity  or  force,  disappears  on 
the  production  of  a  given  amount  of  galvanic  force ; 
this,  in  turn,  replaces  a  fixed  equivalent  of  mechan- 
ical force,  itself  capable  of  a  further  exchange  in  heat. 
Reversing  the  process,  heat,  as  in  the  engine,  may 
be  turned  into  power ;  power  by  friction  may  be  re- 
placed with  electricity,  and  electricity  may  break  in 
on  chemical  compounds,  securing  new  adjustments 
of  chemical  force.  Experiments  in  the  correspond- 
ence of  forces,  however  interesting  in  themselves,  by 
no  means  establish  their  identity  of  being.  Differ- 
ences still  remain  ;  for  instance,  between  mechanical 
and  thermal  and  chemical  forces  in  their  manifesta- 
tions ;  and  till  these  are  removed  or  explained,  we 
must  recognize  a  corresponding  difference  in  the 
forces  themselves.  If  mechanical  forces  act  on  mas- 
ses, thermal  forces  on  molecules,  and  chemical  forces 
on  atoms,  this,  nevertheless,  is  a  difference,  and  the 
ground  of  it  must  be  referred  in  each  case  to  the 
force  itself,  till  further  knowledge  gives  us  another 
explanation.  The  fact  that  mechanical  force  calls 
forth  heat  and  disappears  in  doing  it,  no  more  iden- 
tifies the  two,  than  does  the  fact  that  volition  issues, 
first  in  muscular  motion  and  then  in  sound,  establish 
the  oneness  of  the  three.  Indeed,  the  permanent 
fact  of  their  constant,  separable  manifestation,  even 
to  the  senses,  still  remains,  and  is  a  sufficient  ground, 
both  in  language  and  thought,  for  their  distinction. 
Either  in  the  very  forces  themselves,  or  in  some  other 


matter;  its  existence  and  nature.      123 

forces  that  condition  their  action,  there  is  a  reason 
for  this  difference  of  results,  and  therefore  at  some 
point,  somewhere,  diversity  of  agencies  must  be  ac- 
cepted so  long  as  diversity  of  effects  appears.  We 
shall  not  reach  identical,  uniform  force,  till  we  reach 
identical,  uniform  results.  Disagreements  demand 
explanation  as  much  as  agreements,  and  an  absolute 
oneness  of  causes  would  preclude  all  variety  in  the 
products,  would  shut  us  off  from  creation.  Take 
such  a  force  as  that  of  the  attraction  of  gravitation, 
and  how  peculiar  are  its  manifestations.  It  is  omni- 
present, yet  varies  in  intensity  everywhere  according 
to  a  fixed  rule.  It  needs  no  media  apparently  for 
its  diffusion  or  action,  but  seizes  its  object  with  a 
specified  power  everywhere.  It  is  a  vacuum  to  itself, 
sending  cross-lines  of  force  from  planet  to  planet 
which  do  not  in  the  least  collide  with  each  other. 
It  suffers  no  exhaustion  by  exercise.  The  weight 
that  has  plunged  down  in  headlong  descent,  leaves  a 
path  behind  it  unswept  of  power,  capable  instantly, 
along  its  whole  extent,  of  presenting  like  action  on 
every  other  body.  The  momentum,  which  it  itself 
has  acquired,  seems  unsubtracted  from  the  great 
atmosphere  of  force  which  has  closed  up  around  it. 
The  motion  of  masses,  mainly  secured  by  the  attrac- 
tion of  gravitation,  does  not  in  the  least  modify  or 
abate  the  force  which  gives  rise  to  it,  no  matter  how 
much  is  lost  by  friction  or  expended  in  collision.  It 
is  penetrable  in  all  directions,  yet  puts  its  tariff,  its 
additions  and  subtractions,  its  variable  scale  of  condi- 
tions, on  every  force  expended  in  space.  At  least, 
these  are  some  of  the  properties  of  this  attraction,  if 


124  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

we  conceive  it  as  emanating  equally  at  all  times  from 
the  body  which  is  its  centre.  If  we  regard  it  as  called 
forth  only  by  the  actual  presence  of  another  body,  its 
features  are  scarcely  less  striking.  Its  quantity,  on 
this  supposition,  is  variable  every  instant,  and  is  ca- 
pable within  itself  of  indefinite  increase  or  diminution, ' 
according  as  the  objects  which  exert  it  are  near  to, 
or  remote  from,  each  other.  The  approach  of  the 
earth  to  the  sun  would  rapidly  increase  the  absolute 
quantity  of  this  force  ;  its  departure,  correspondingly 
reduce  it.  On  any  supposition,  it  is  sufficiently  plain 
— the  point  we  wish  to  make — that  forces  are  far 
from  identical,  are  the  lodgments  of  diverse  forms  of 
power,  and  that  the  universe  is  no  more  a  unit  to  the 
understanding  than  to  the  senses. 

What  are  the  possibilities,  the  suggestions  of  this 
theory  of  matter  in  its  relations  to  God,  to  a  Creative 
and  Providential  Agent  ?  The  nature  of  these  forces, 
and  their  relations  to  each  other,  by  which  they  unite 
to  make  up  a  harmonious  universe,  would  still  remain 
as  the  first  obvious  proof  of  an  All-wise  and  Efficient 
Disposer  of  them  ;  but  the  inquiry  now  urged  is, 
whether  there  is  anything  in  the  very  idea  of  force  as 
the  substratum  of  matter  which  effects  the  argument 
for  the  being  of  a  God.  If  there  is  anything  in  the 
notion  of  force  that  favors  the  idea  of  self-existence, 
of  the  eternity  of  matter,  so  far  forth,  the  proof  of  the 
existence  of  God  is  weakened  ;  and  the  more  so  as 
these  material  forces  have  their  own  law  in  them,  and 
once  granted  in  kind  and  quantity,  themselves  con- 
struct and  maintain  the  world.  The  notion  of  force, 
physical  force,  is  not  of  passivity,  but  of  activity ;  not 


matter;  its  existence  and  nature.      125 

of  quiet  endurance,  but  of  permanent  power.  So  far 
as  forces  are  interchangeable,  there  is  consumption 
on  the  one  side,  and  increase  on  the  other.  There  is 
change  and  transition  between  them,  according  to  a 
definite  law.  This  fact  is  not  suggestive  of  ex- 
tended, immutable,  indestructible,  physical  being,  per- 
fectly finite  and  perfectly  fixed  ;  tough  and  intracta- 
ble in  its  own  narrow,  stubborn,  independent  powers ; 
but  rather  of  a  free,  facile  agency,  the  force  of  a  spir- 
itual, rational  being,  that  is  put  forth,  indeed,  accord- 
ing to  a  measure,  but  shifts  and  varies  its  applications 
according  to  the  exigency.  In  the  fact  that  force  is 
action,  a  constant  expenditure,  and  not  a  silent  endur- 
ance, we  have  suggestion  of  a  Personal  Source  ;  in 
the  fact,  that  it  is  measured  out  in  fixed  proportions 
for  intelligible  ends,  we  have  a  still  more  certain  in- 
dication of  its  reference ;  and  in  the  shifting,  flexible 
methods  of  its  applications,  a  further  hint  of  its  origin. 
If  constant,  yet  variable,  exertion  toward  intelligible 
ends  does  not  give  the  mind  a  strong  intimation  of  a 
Personal  Being  as  its  source,  it  is  difficult  to  say  what 
would  do  this  ;  yet,  this  is  the  nature  of  the  forces 
which  make  up  the  material  world  about  us.  Fixed 
in  elements,  assuming  new  forms  in  every  compound, 
exchangeable  in  part  for  each  other,  yet,  accepting  a 
new  shape  at  every  transfer,  they  exhibit  the  precise, 
pliant  power  of  a  rational  spirit,  seeking  the  ends 
prescribed  to  itself  in  settled,  yet  flexible,  methods. 
Moreover,  a  further  suggestion  of  a  Personal  Being- 
is  found  in  the  relation  which  force,  in  our  own 
experience,  sustains  to  us.  We  are  constantly  con- 
trolling events,  through  force  due  in  its  form  and  des- 


126  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

tination  to  our  own  will.  Our  relation  to  matter  is, 
indeed,  very  different  from  that  of  the  creative  mind;, 
yet  it  is  such,  nevertheless,  as  to  carry  the  thoughts 
strongly  over,  in  a  reference  of  the  activities  about 
it,  to  God.  Mechanical  force  alone  is  open  to  man. 
This  he  constantly  generates.  To  be  sure,  he  does  l 
it  by  the  consumption  of  other  forces,  but  this  does 
not  alter  the  significance  of  the  fact,  that  he  enters 
himself  the  world  of  force,  and  learns  to  attribute  it 
to  mind.  Mechanical  force  is  conditioned  on  the 
existence  of  the  forces  of  gravitation  and  cohesion. 
Without  these  there  are  no  firm,  stable  bodies  to 
receive  or  impart  force.  Moreover,  mechanical  force 
is  always  the  product  of  some  other  force.  Some 
chemical,  or  thermal,  or  electric,  changes,  as  in  the 
human  body,  or  the  steam-engine,  or  the  telegraph 
have  preceded  it ;  or  the  force  of  gravitation,  as  in 
falling  bodies,  has  called  it  forth.  This  secondary 
force  alone  is  directly  reached  by  human  volition  ; 
but  in  this  fact,  of  the  exertion  by  us  of  force, 
and  in  the  familiar  one,  that  the  mechanical  power 
so  generated  may  be  momentarily  modified,  and 
seems  to  come  forth  in  a  fresh,  creative  way,  we  re- 
ceive from  our  daily  experience  a  new  impulse  in 
ascribing  all  force  to  God.  When  science  discloses 
to  us  the  fact,  that  the  muscular  force  which  we 
put  forth,  is  attended  with  a  consumption  either  in 
the  blood,  or  in  the  muscle  of  other  more  concealed 
forces,  embraced  in  chemical  affinities,  the  strictly 
creative  nature  of  the  force-act  disappears,  and  a 
wide  chasm  is  thus  revealed  between  our  physical 
activities  and  those  of  God.     We,  indeed,  see  that 


matter;   its  existence  and  nature.      127 

the  relation  of  forces  to  the  finite  spirit  is  quite  differ- 
ent from  their  relation  to  the  Infinite  Spirit ;  that 
the  one  only  modifies  what  the  other  originates,  yet 
the  affinity  of  the  two,  spirit  and  force,  remains  un- 
shaken ;  and  the  more  so,  as  the  inscrutable  touch 
of  the  human  will,  by  which  it  does  reach  physical 
forces,  and  does  work  among  them,  by  which  they 
become  to  it  a  perennial  spring  of  potency  in  the 
world,  is  still  ours,  escaping  the  scrutiny  of  the  vexed 
physicist. 

Force,  then,  by  its  own  active,  well-ordered,  pliant 
nature,  and  by  its  close  connection  wi-th  the  human 
will,  bears  with  it  an  immediate  suggestion  of  a  Per- 
sonal Source.  There  have  long  been  two  theories  on 
the  part  of  those  who  refer  matter  to  God  :  one  of 
second  causes,  another  of  immediate,  direct  causa- 
tion. The  one  gives  a  quasi  independence  to  matter  ; 
the  other  refers  it  in  momentary  generation  to  God. 
This  notion  of  force,  on  which  physicists  are  so  hap- 
pily and  generally  uniting,  seems  to  us  quite  to  favor 
the  second  as  contrasted  with  the  first,  and,  if  rightly 
interpreted,  to  bring  God  much  nearer  to  us,  than  some 
have  thought  him  to  be ;  I  may  almost  say,  nearer 
than  some  have  wished  him  to  be.  One  of  the  most 
recently  uttered  creeds  of  an  atheistic  faith  contained 
this  doctrine  of  force,  which,  to  us  at  least,  would 
seem  to  be  the  very  water-gate  whereat  God  pours 
his  being  into  the  universe ;  the  very  method  and  act 
of  the  letting  down  of  his  power  upon  it.  If  the 
swing  of  faith,  in  the  case  referred  to,  had  been  over 
to  pantheism,  it  would  have  had  plausibility,  but  to- 
wards atheism,  it  lacks  even  the  color  of  argument. 


128  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

We  have  in  the  world,  inexhaustible,  variable,  mar- 
vellously combined  forces,  that  thread  their  way  on- 
ward with  infinite  wisdom  and  unerring  adaptations. 
What  is  this  but  the  very  presence  of  a  rational  spirit 
with  us  ?  Matter  as  an  indestructible,  self-sufficient, 
stolid  form  of  being,  disappears,  and  a  living  power 
takes  its  place,  coming  forth  instantly  from  the  source 
of  life ;  momentarily  flexible  to  the  thought  of  the 
Great  Being,  from  whose  purposes  it  springs,  the 
breath  of  whose  volition  it  is  to  us.  This  pulsation 
of  the  life  of  God  through  his  entire  creation,  by 
which  every  force  rests  back  instantly  on  his  volition, 
and  would  vanish,  as  easily  as  thought  when  the 
mind  ceases  to  think,  did  he  but  call  in  again  his 
powers,  is  at  once  the  most  adequate  and  sublime 
conception  of  the  universe,  and  of  its  Infinite  Source. 
Certainly,  the  poet,  science  full  in  view,  can  as  well 
say  to  day  as  in  the  days  that  have  preceded  : 

Some  say  that  in  the  origin  of  things, 

When  all  creation  started  into  birth, 

The  infant  elements  received  a  law, 

From  which  they  swerved  not  since.     That  under  force 

Of  that  controlling  ordinance  they  move, 

And  need  not  his  immediate  hand,  who  first 

Prescribed  their  course,  to  regulate  it  now. 

Thus  dream  they,  and  contrive  to  save  a  God 

Th'  encumbrance  of  his  own  concerns,  and  spare 

The  great  Artificer  of  all  that  moves 

The  stress  of  a  continual  act,  the  pain 

Of  unremitted  vigilance  and  care, 

As  too  laborious  and  severe  a  task. 

So  man,  the  moth,  is  not  afraid,  it  seems, 

To  span  omnipotence,  and  measure  might, 

That  knows  no  measure,  by  the  scanty  rule 

And  standard  of  his  own,  that  is  to-day, 

And  is  not  ere  to-morrow's  sun  go  down. 

But  how  should  matter  occupy  a  charge, 

Dull  as  it  is,  and  satisfy  a  law 

So  vast  in  its  demands,  unless  impelled 


MATTER  ;    ITS    EXISTENCE    AND    NATURE.         1 29 

To  ceaseless  service  by  a  ceaseless  force, 
And  under  pressure  of  some  conscious  cause  ? 
The  Lord  of  all,  himself  through  all  diffused, 
Sustains,  and  is  the  life  of  all  that  lives. 
Nature  is  but  a  name  for  an  effect, 
Whose  cause  is  God.     He  feeds  the  sacred  fire. 
By  which  the  mighty  process  is  maintained  ■ 
Who  sleeps  not,  is  not  weary ;  in  whose  sigh 
Slow  circling  ages  are  as  transient  days  ; 
Whose  work  is  without  labor  ;  whose  designs 
No  flaw  deforms,  no  difficulty  thwarts ; 
And  whose  beneficence  no  change  exhausts. 


LECTURE  VI. 

CONSCIOUSNESS,    THE   FIELD    OF    MENTAL    FACTS. 

Having  traced  in  outline  the  department  of  physi- 
cal inquiry — that  is,  the  general  ideas  under  which 
the  mind  traverses  it,  we  turn  to  the  correlative  and 
independent  branch  of  investigation,  and  the  notions 
which  control  it,  to  wit :  mental  phenomena — con- 
sciousness, right,  liberty.  There  are  two  preliminary 
inquiries  concerning  this  field :  Where  is  it  located 
— where  are  its  facts  to  be  sought  ?  and,  What  is 
the  authority  or  validity  of  these  facts — their  test  of 
certainty  ?  Till  comparatively  recently  there  has  been 
but  one  answer  to  the  first  question.  No  one  thought 
of  looking  elsewhere  for  the  facts  of  mind  than  to 
the  mind  itself,  than  to  consciousness.  Several  causes 
have  concurred  to  give  inquiry,  in  later  years,  in  large 
part,  a  new  direction.  The  dogma  found  entrance  in 
metaphysics  themselves,  that  the  senses  furnish  the 
entire,  original  material  of  thought,  and  thus  the 
weight  and  importance  of  outside  influences  were 
greatly  enhanced.  The  general  success  of  physical 
inquiries,  and  the  striking  discoveries  in  anatomy  and 
physiology,  greatly  aided  this  tendency  ;  till  now  there 
are  many  and  able  thinkers  who  would  give  a  very 
different  answer  to  the  above  inquiry ;  who  would 
turn  the  attention,  some  to  the  brain  and  nervous 
system — some  to  these,  and  the  physical  organization 
generally  ;  some  to  the  cranium — the  outside  look  of 


CONSCIOUSNESS,  THE  FIELD  OF  MENTAL  FACTS.    I3I 

the  head  and  face  ;  some  to  the  historical  development 
of  animal  life,  and,  as  included  therein,  the  intellec- 
tual life  of  the  world.  This  inclination  to  remove  at- 
tention from  the  phenomena  of  mind  as  previously 
understood,  and  direct  it  to  what  had  been  either 
overlooked  altogether,  or  regarded  as  a  very  second- 
ary adjunct,  is  what  may  be  called,  in  a  general 
way,  the  materialistic  tendency.  We  would  not  wish 
to  use,  or  to  seem  to  use,  the  words,  materialism  and 
materialistic,  as  blind,  cant  phraseology  of  reprobation 
and  reproach.  Indeed,  they  are  applicable  to  the 
philosophical  products  of  many  of  the  most  able 
minds  of  the  day,  and  range  with  greater  or  less  fit- 
ness, through  various  and  diverse  classes  of  thinkers, 
who  have  little  in  common,  either  in  method  or  men- 
tal power.  From  Mill  on  the  one  extreme,  to  Mauds- 
ley  on  the  other,  we  speak  of  the  drift  of  the  included 
philosophy  as  being  that  of  materialism  ;  though  the 
movement  is  hardly  discernible  at  one  point,  and  very 
decisive  at  another.  Every  stream  has  its  centre 
where  the  waters  glide  rapidly  to  their  destination. 
When  Mill,  whose  philosophy  makes  no  provision 
even  for  the  valid  being  of  matter,  and  whose  inquir- 
ies are  carried  on  almost  exclusively  within  the  rec- 
ognized field  of  philosophy  under  its  common  and 
familiar  methods,  is  spoken  of  as  a  materialist,  it  is 
because  of  the  under  flow  of  his  belief,  drawing  those 
who  feel  it,  and  who  have  less  power  than  himself  to 
resist  it,  at  once  into  the  vortex  of  material  forces. 
The  cardinal  step  is  taken  by  him,  that  step  in  phil- 
osophy which  leaves  the  mind,  bereft  of  primitive 
data  of  thought,  to  suffer  the  activities  of  matter,  and 


132  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

receive  its  shape  from  them.  Sensations,  percep- 
tions, are  thus  the  seats  of  efficiency,  and  forestall 
every  intellectual  product.  This — though  it  tends  toa 
it — is  indeed  a  very  different  attitude  from  that  of 
Maudsley,  who  seems  to  diffuse  the  mind  evenly 
through  the  body,  to  identify  the  action  of  the  two, 
and  to  be  as  guiltless  of  philosophy  proper  as  it  is 
possible  that  any  one  should  be.  Indeed,  his  intelli- 
gence and  ability  are  a  great  surprise  to  us,  achieved 
under  such  conditions. 

Materialism,  with  a  oneness  of  tendency,  but  with 
this  great  range  and  incongruity  of  results,  shows  its 
character,  especially  in  its  declared  forms,  by  the 
answer  it  gives  to  this  inquiry  after  the  field  of  phil- 
osophy. More  frequently  it  totally  misses  it,  and 
always  gives  foremost  position  to  much  that  is  second- 
ary. Let  us  not  fail  to  say,  however,  that  material- 
ism, amid  all  the  intellectual  and  moral  mischief  it  is 
sure  to  work,  has  brought  compensation  in  the  second- 
ary investigations  it  has  carried  on,  and  in  the  light 
that  these  have  sometimes  cast  on  the  chief  points 
of  discussion.  Thus,  a  right  apprehension  of  voli- 
tion, of  the  relation  of  voluntary  and  involuntary  acts, 
and  of  the  nature  of  the  acquisition  of  skill  by  prac- 
tice, are  greatly  aided  by  a  study  of  the  nervous  and 
muscular  systems.  In  our  response  to  the  first  ques- 
tion, we  adhere  to  the  general  conviction  of  philoso- 
phy, before  it  suffered  the  passing  bias  of  the  pres- 
ent, intense  form  of  physical  pursuits,  and  say,  that 
consciousness  is  the  exclusive  field  of  the  facts  of 
mental  science.  We  may,  however,  often  be  assisted, 
both  in  our  knowledge  of  these,  and  in  our  interpre- 


CONSCIOUSNESS,  THE  FIELD  OF  MENTAL  FACTS.    1 33 

tation  of  them,  by  a  study  of  the  things  directly  as- 
sociated with  them  ;  as  history,  laying  open  the 
human  soul  in  the  activities  of  daily  life  ;  as  language, 
accurately  and  exhaustively  distinguishing  and  desig- 
nating its  states  and  acts  ;  as  physiology,  exposing 
the  mechanism  through  which,  and  restricted  by 
which,  it  reaches  the  physical  world  ;  as  animal  life, 
which  also  includes  a  portion  of  our  powers,  and  ad- 
umbrates those  which  are  higher  than  its  own.  This 
primary  and  inapproachable  nature  of  the  facts  of 
consciousness,  needs  to  be  distinctly  seen  and  ac- 
cepted. Only  thus  can  we  inititate  successfully  and 
safely  that  independent  movement  of  which  true  phil- 
osophy is  the  offspring.  In  the  first  place,  we  affirm, 
that  no  physical  fact,  whatever  its  intellectual  bear- 
ings, can  be  understood  in  them  without  an  explana- 
tion, an  illumination  derived  from  consciousness  itself. 
The  real  key  of  the  connection,  forever  and  exclu- 
sively, comes  therefrom.  The  physicist  who  is  un- 
dertaking to  account  for  a  mental  fact  on  a  physical 
basis,  and  to  identify  the  two  states,  never  found  the 
mental  m  the  physical  phenomena,  but  stole  the  first 
from  consciousness,  and  then  came  and  carefully 
covered  it  up  with  the  second.  The  physical  in- 
quirer, with  his  group  of  admirers,  is  like  one  who 
is  to  show  his  skill  in  putting  together  a  complex 
machine.  He  has  a  key  whose  possession  he  is  un- 
willing to  acknowledge,  but  which  he  is  compelled  to 
consult  from  time  to  time.  This  he  accomplishes  in 
so  furtive  a  way  as  not  to  mar  his  visible  success, 
though  his  independent  skill  is  an  entire  delusion. 
Thus  Maudsley,  when  he  identifies  association  with 


134  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

the  successive  assimilations  of  like  material  by  the 
nerve-cells,  takes  a  knowledge  of  this  fact  of  associa- 
tion out  of  consciousness,  and  in  a  fanciful  way  fastens 
it  upon  another  fact,  obtained  from  a  very  different 
source,  between  which  and  it,  he  imagines  there  is  a 
resemblance.  Had  he  been  shut  out  of  conscious-* 
ness,  that  is,  from  consulting  consciousness  in  the 
ordinary  routine  of  the  metaphysical  method  ;  if  he 
could  not  have  glanced  at  the  key  in  the  crown  of  his 
hat,  he  would  not  have  been  able  so  neatly  to  unite 
these  two  facts.  Cells  and  the  secretions  of  cells, 
might  be  looked  at  a  long  while,  and  very  intently, 
before  there  would  be  seen  in  them,  as  physical  facts, 
the  fact  of  association.  With  another  glance  at  the 
"conveniently  located  hat,  he  begins  to  talk  of  "  ide- 
ational" cells  ;  that  is,  cells  whose  secretions  or 
changes  are  ideas.  Whence  come  these  ideas  ?  Evi- 
dently, they  are  a  second  escape  from  the  mind  itself, 
occasioned  by  a  furtive  opening  of  the  door  of  con- 
sciousness. An  equally  absurd  and  deceptive  work 
does  the  phrenologist  do  in  labeling  the  projections 
of  the  head,  as  if  he  read  language,  benevolence,  ideal- 
ity on  them  from  the  outside,  and  not  from  the  inside  ; 
as  if  he  got  his  theories  by  neglecting  consciousness, 
and  looking  at  craniums.  The  follies  and  errors  of 
them  he,  doubtless,  does  thus  obtain,  but  the  founda- 
tions of  them,  not  at  all.  We  must  know  what  the 
powers  of  the  mind  are,  before  we  can  enter  on  an 
intelligible  discussion  of  their  location.  We  cannot 
locate  powers  we  have  not  got,  nor  those  whose  ex- 
istence we  have  not  recognized.  The  absurd  divis- 
ions of  the  phrenologists — as  benevolence,  combative- 


CONSCIOUSNESS,  THE  FIELD  OF  MENTAL  FACTS.     1 35 

ness,  philoprogenitiveness  arise  from  the  haste  with 
which  this  first  work  has  been  done,  from  the  unan- 
alyzed  and  mixed  way  in  which  they  have  accepted 
the  phenomena  of  consciousness.  Their  method  has 
been  much  as  if  one  should  take  a  dozen  murder- 
ers, search  their  heads  for  a  projection,  and  label  it, 
in  happy  assurance,  the  power  of  homicide,  to  be 
complemented  later  by  the  power  of  infanticide,  the 
power  of  suicide,  the  power  of  regicide.  Combative- 
ness  is  the  fruit  of  a  variety  of  causes  and  tempera- 
ments, as  is  murder  of  a  variety  of  motives  and 
passions.  What  these  first  elements  of  action  are, 
must  be  known,  before  we  can  assign  them  a  position. 
If  we  are  to  give  every  unanalyzed  state  or  condition 
of  the  mind  a  locality,  we  must  either  overlook  many, 
or  soon  find  ourselves  at  fault  for  new  spaces  where- 
on to  map  down  our  growing  powers.  If  the  love 
of  children  is  one  faculty,  the  love  of  parents,  or 
old  people,  should  be  a  second ;  of  one's  wife,  a 
third  ;  of  a  friend,  a  fourth,  and  so  on,  through  horse 
and  dog  and  gun,  till  we  have  reached  the  mar- 
gin of  our  regards.  We  might  much  more  hope- 
fully study  the  saintly  devices  of  a  cathedral  win- 
dow from  the  outside,  than  search  the  human  soul 
by  means  of  any  dim  shadow  it  may  cast  of  its 
spiritual  substance  on  the  external  world.  Nay,  the 
thing  is  absolutely  impossible,  unless  we  bring  to  our 
labor  some  quick,  furtive  glances  upon  the  surface 
play  of  our  own  minds.  We  cannot  even  call  mur- 
der, murder,  unless  we  believe  in  the  malice  of  the 
agent,  and  it  is  a  foolishly  difficult  and  hopeless  un- 
dertaking to  locate  our  powers,  unless  we  bring  to  it, 


I36  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

as  its  first  condition,  a  complete  and  systematic 
survey  of  those  powers  whose  external  signs  and 
forms  of  existence  we  are  to  trace.  If,  then,  all 
knowledge  of  the  mind  by  external,  physical  facts  is 
conditioned  on  a  previous  knowledge  of  internal  states 
or  acts,  and  if  all  thorough  knowledge,  so  aided  in  its 
acquisition,  implies  a  complete,  previous  analysis  of 
our  faculties,  then  it  is  evident,  that  the  field  of  phil- 
osophy is  consciousness,  and  that  all  other  inquiries 
are  secondary  ;  that  this,  at  least,  is  the  source,  the 
centre,  and  origin  of  the  facts  under  discussion. 

A  second  consideration,  showing  consciousness  to 
be  the  field,  in  a  very  important  sense,  the  exclusive 
field  of  mental  science,  is  the  absolute  separation  of 
its  phenomena  from  all  others.  They  do  not,  as  in 
the  natural  sciences,  shade  off,  by  insensible  degrees, 
into  those  of  kindred  departments,  but  are  cut  short 
with  an  astonishingly  abrupt  and  decided  stroke,  by 
a  clean  and  impassible  boundary.  No  acts  can  be 
more  distinct,  can  be  as  distinct,  as  an  act,  or  state 
of  mind,  and  a  physical  act  or  state  :  for  instance,  the 
movement  of  one's  hand  and  the  feeling  which  gives 
rise  to  it.  There  is  no  ground  of  likeness  or  unlike- 
ness  between  them  whatsoever.  They  are  simply, 
totally  diverse,  parted  by  the  entire  diameter  of  being. 
It  would  be  a  hopeless  task  to  explain  the  sensation 
from  the  motion,  or  to  understand  the  motion  through 
the  sensation  simply.  No  points  of  observation, 
therefore,  are  more  perfectly  distinct,  than  that  from 
which  we  overlook,  through  the  senses,  the  external 
world,  and  that  from  which  we  command  the  facts, 
the  states  of  mind.     To  withdraw  into  consciousness, 


CONSCIOUSNESS,  THE  FIELD  OF  MENTAL  FACTS.      1 37 

to  let  drop  the  curtains  of  the  mind  about  us,  puts  us 
in  a  most  peculiar  and  private  attitude  ;  and  we  often 
instinctively  close  the  eyes  as  marking  our  seclusion 
and  retreat  from  all  sensible  things.  So  absolutely 
sacred  are  these  penetralia  of  the  mind,  that  every 
man,  of  necessity,  is  his  own  high-priest,  and  enters 
there  alone  for  its  ordinary  and  sacred  duties  alike. 
The  materialist  who  identifies  any  physical  state  or 
action  whatsoever  with  any  spiritual  state  or  action 
whatsoever — the  one  explained  to  the  senses,  the 
other  found  in  consciousness — confounds  things  be- 
tween which  he  can  show  no  agreement  whatsoever  ; 
and  to  a  knowledge  of  both  of  which,  he  cannot  pos- 
sibly arrive  by  the  same  form  of  inquiry.  No  iden- 
tification, therefore,  can  be  more  ungrounded  than 
this  identification  ;  no  confusion  more  complete  than 
this  confusion.  There  would  seem  to  be,  according 
to  such  a  view,  no  inherent  impossibility  of  a  man's 
seeing  his  own  thinking,  and  making  an  act  of  mind, 
exist  in  the  mind  itself,  whose  it  is  in  a  double  form. 
If  the  brain  were  laid  open,  and  its  states  made  visi- 
ble, these  might  be  returned  by  reflection  into  the 
eye  of  the  still  living  agent,  and  he  might  enjoy  the 
satisfaction,  at  least  for  a  brief  interval,  of  catching 
his  own  soul  at  work.  So  absurd  is  the  conclusion 
which  attaches  to  the  idea,  that  the  physicist  at  all 
penetrates  the  mind  by  a  scrutiny  of  the  cerebrum, 
cerebellum,  and  spinal  cord.  Let  him  be  assured, 
that  even  if  it  were  true  that  a  nervous  state  is  iden- 
tical with  an  idea,  such  a  state  could  not  be  known 
or  seen  as  an  idea  from  without.  The  transparency 
must  be  interpreted,  looking  towards  the  light.     This 


I38  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

is  the  soul's  attitude,  in  catching  thoughts  and  feel- 
ings, as  thoughts  and  feelings.  An  inequality  of 
thickness  may,  in  translucent  material,  occasion, 
when  held  to  the  sun,  a  beautiful  image,  but  allowed 
to  drop  into  the  shadow,  and  regarded  only  as  an 
opaque,  uneven  surface,  it  loses,  at  once,  its  signifi- 
cance. Believe  what  you  will  about  the  brain,  you 
must  go  in  and  look  out  through  it,  if  you  wish  to 
see  "  those  nimble  fiery,  and  delectable  shapes  "  with 
which  the  mind  amuses  and  engages  itself.  You  may 
study  a  telescope,  by  taking  apart  its  lenses,  and 
inquiring  into  their  focal  distances,  but  if  you  wish  to 
study  astronomy,  put  them  together  again  in  the  best 
possible  order,  and  look  through  them  at  the  heavens. 
If  you  wish  to  study  the  brain,  cut  away  at  your  sub- 
ject ;  if  you  wish  to  study  the  mind,  catch  the  images 
of  that  spiritual  light  which  filters  through  your  own 
living  brain  into  the  quiet  seats  of  consciousness. 

In  two  marked  ways  has  this  separation  and  se- 
clusion of  mental  phenomena  been  broken  in  upon. 
Lewes,  in  his  Physiology  of  Common  Life,  under- 
takes to  establish  the  assertion,  that  all  action  in  the 
human  body-  that  is  connected  with  gray,  nervous 
centres,  whether  of  the  spinal  column,  or  nether  or 
upper  brain,  enters  consciousness,  is  known  in  con- 
sciousness. Thus  the  motion  of  the  heart,  the  lungs, 
and  the  digestive  channel,  would  all  be  facts  of  con- 
sciousness. With  such  boldness,  does  this  physicist 
confront  consciousness,  and  tell  it  what  is  in  it,  as  if 
the  very  fact  of  being  in  consciousness  were  not  the 
fact  of  being  known  to  be  in  consciousness  ;  and  as  if 
a  thing  could  be  in  consciousness  which  is  not  there 


CONSCIOUSNESS,  THE  FIELD  OF  MENTAL  FACTS.    1 39 

to  the  apprehension  of  the  party  under  consideration. 
Like  some  over-eager  tradesman  who  tells  his  cus- 
tomer what  he  wants,  Lewes  takes  the  mind  under 
his  tutelage,  and  indicates  to  it  what  it  is  expected 
to  report,  and  intimates,  that  if  it  fails  to  fill  the 
schedule,  it  will  only  reflect  discredit  on  its  own 
veracity.  Surely,  here  is  a  chance  for  any  theory 
whatsoever  in  philosophy,  if  we  can  infer  facts  into 
consciousness,  of  which  consciousness  itself  knows 
nothing.  An  opponent's  ledger  will,  doubtless,  report 
what  we  wish  it  to  report,  if  we  are  left  to  make  the 
entries.  The  grounds  on  which  this  strange  asser- 
tion is  made  and  protractedly  enforced,  are  chiefly 
a-priori.  Likeness  of  structure,  it  is  affirmed,  implies 
likeness  of  office.  Gray,  nervous  centres  are  like  in 
structure,  hence  all,  or  no  part,  of  that  which  enters 
them,  which  affects  them,  should  appear  in  conscious- 
ness. I  never  read  a  physicist  that  had  any  disrelish 
for  a-priori  arguments  except  when  employed  by  met- 
aphysicians :  then,  they  are  thought  to  be  peculiarly 
treacherous  and  dangerous.  It  may  be  possible  that 
like  structure  in  unlike  relations  may  be  attended 
with  a  modification  of  offices  ;  and  that  different  por- 
tions, therefore,  of  the  gray  ganglia  may  render  dif- 
ferent services  to  the  vital  and  the  spiritual  forces 
concerned.  The  argument  of  Lewes  proceeds  on 
the  purely  physical  basis,  that  like  nervous  currents, 
or  influences,  terminating  in  nervous  seats,  struc- 
turally alike,  must  produce  like  results,  and  when 
consciousness  steps  in  to  arrest  this  reasoning,  he 
composedly  gives  it  the  lie.  This  view  might  be 
just  were  we  dealing  with  simple,  physical  forces ; 


140  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

but  the  way  in  which  the  vital  and  intellectual  ele- 
ments respectively  touch  these,  and  are  touched  by 
them,  is  not  so  to  be  treated.  It  would  be  very  diffi- 
cult, we  apprehend,  to  distinguish  between  sound 
and  sight,  by  a  difference  in  the  very  structure  of  the 
nerves  employed.  Variety  of  relation,  as  well  as 
variety  of  structure,  may  give  variety  of  office. 

But  the  effort  to  break  down  the  testimony  of  con- 
sciousness at  this  point,  is  not  of  more  grave  import 
than  a  like  effort,  generally  made  by  entirely  other  par- 
ties, less  aware  of  the  results  of  their  action,  to  intro- 
duce facts  into  mental  science,  which  have  not  the  tes- 
timony of  consciousness.  Hamilton,  in  harmony  with 
many  other  metaphysicians,  is  full  of  what  he  terms 
subconscious  phenomena.  Professor  Porter,  in  his 
recent  book,  speaks  of  "  unconscious  acts  of  the  soul," 
in  the  most  assured  way,  and  seems  to  regard  them  as 
especially  present  in  our  earlier  and  more  instinctive 
activities.  Indeed,  this  scaffolding  of  latent  states 
and  subconscious  acts  has  been  so  generally  built 
up  about  all  mental  structures,  that  most  accept  them 
as  a  matter  of  course,  and  scarcely  stop  to  challenge 
the  occasion  or  the  proof  of  the  most  obtrusive  of 
them.  This  we  now  do,  from  beginning  to  end,  and 
are  not  prepared  to  accept  any  phenomena  as  men- 
tal which  are  not  witnessed  to  the  mind  in  con- 
sciousness. We  are  to  remember  that  intellectual 
facts  are  closely  associated  with  physical  and  vital 
ones,  and  are,  therefore,  easily  to  be  confounded  with 
them.  We  believe  the  exact  line  between  the  two, 
to  be  found  here  :  that  those,  all  of  those,  and  only 
those  which   appear  in   consciousness,  are   mental ; 


CONSCIOUSNESS,  THE  FIELD  OF  MENTAL  FACTS.    I4I 

and,  that  all  others,  if  they  are  phenomena  at  all,  are 
so  in  space,  and  are  possessed,  therefore,  of  a  physical 
character.  In  this  belief  of  subconscious  mental 
states,  we  find  proof  of  two  things  :  of  the  ease  with 
which  pure  assumptions  for  a  long  time  find  place 
unquestioned  in  science  and  philosophy ;  and  of  the 
certainty  with  which  physical  imagery  creeps  into 
spiritual  facts.  Matter  undergoes  both  obvious  and 
recondite  changes  ;  the  former  often  follow,  as  effects, 
the  latter.  Thus  the  mind  is  conceived  as  possessed 
of  some  sort  of  substantial  being,  wherein  concealed 
phenomena  can  occur,  strongly  influencing  those 
which  come  to  light  in  consciousness. 

Now,  the  simplest,  possible  statement  of  facts, 
with  the  fewest  assumed  causes,  is  the  most  philo- 
sophical. This,  we  believe  to  be,  that  all  phenomena 
— mark  the  word,  phenomena — of  mind  are  in  con- 
sciousness ;  that  any  other  phenomena  of  mind  would, 
from  the  very  nature  of  the  case,  be  unknowable,  un- 
determinable, and,  therefore,  not  to  be  believed  in, 
except  on  the  best  of  proof;  and,  that  if  they  were 
actually  shown  to  exist  as  phenomena  anywhere,  it 
must  be  in  space,  and  thus  they  would  sink  to  phys- 
ical facts.  Physical  facts — facts  in  space,  mental 
facts — facts  in  consciousness,  are  all  the  facts  of 
which  we  have  any  direct  knowledge,  and  we  excuse 
ourselves  from  believing  in  any  other,  till  the  proof 
is  forthcoming  and  unmistakable.  This,  we  think  it 
very  far  from  being.  As  we  have  examined  it  else- 
where, we  shall  not  enter  on  the  refutation.  The 
burden  of  proof  lies  with  those  who  affirm  such  phe- 
nomena :  it  is  for  them  to  establish  them  by  the  most 


142  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

undeniable  arguments,  since  the  very  existence  of  so 
many  phenomena  in  an  unlocated,  unapproachable, 
inconceivable  region, — mark  again  the  word,  phenom- 
ena, things,  that  do  in  some  way,  or  somewhere 
transpire — is  a  most  weighty  presumption  against 
them.  All  is  simplicity,  verified,  verifiable  facts,  if 
we  believe  in  physical  facts,  and  mental  facts,  each  in 
their  own  field,  and  knock  away  all  supposititious 
facts,  transpiring  on  some  midway  ground.  We  in- 
sist on  this,  as  a  first  and  essential  step,  in  making 
our  defence  against  materialism.  Plant  the  physicist 
on  the  farther  physical  side  of  the  gulf;  maintain 
ourselves  on  the  nearer,  spiritual  shore  ;  strike  off 
those  mongrel  notions  and  conceptions  by  which  he 
would  link  the  two,  those  bridges  of  the  imagination 
which  have  enough  lightness  in  them  to  lie  in  the 
air,  and  enough  matter  in  them  to  give  footing  to  a 
harpy  throng  from  below — consign  these  to  the  limbo 
of  dreams  in  which  they  belong,  and  our  position  is 
unassailable,  unapproachable.  In  affirming  that  the 
mind  has  its  complete,  phenomenal  existence  in  con- 
sciousness, we  do  not  lose  sight  of,  or  deny  the  ulti- 
mate fact  of  the  growth  of  mind,  an  increase  in  power. 
We  only  say,  that  this  is  not  to  be  imaged  under  a 
material  form,  as  a  material  change  in  the  mind  itself. 
This  growth  appears,  phenomenally,  in  the  states  of 
consciousness,  consequent  upon  it ;  unphenomenally, 
it  is  as  inapproachable  as  the  nature  of  the  mind  it- 
self. 

Having  shown  these  two  things  :  first,  that  no  out- 
side physical  fact  can  be  understood  in  its  philosoph- 
ical bearings,  except  by  means  of  a  previous  knowl- 


CONSCIOUSNESS,  THE  FIELD  OF  MENTAL  FACTS.    1 43 

edge  of  a  correlative,  inside,  mental  fact ;  and  second, 
that  the  two  facts  and  classes  of  facts  are  perfectly 
distinct  from  each  other ;  we  are  ready  to  give  the 
deep  grounds  and  reasons  of  this  in  the  mind  itself. 
O^ir  regulative  ideas  mark  out  the  lines  of  thought ; 
the  chief  impassable  boundary  between  things.  These 
conceptions  are  as  incommunicable,  in  reference  to 
the  points  at  which  they  apply,  as  are  the  several 
senses  in  regard  to  the  peculiar  impressions  they 
make.  The  beauty  of  a  landscape  and  the  delight 
of  music,  the  perfume  of  a  rose  and  the  flavor  of  a 
pear,  have  nothing  in  common.  They  are  as  distinct 
as  things  can  be,  entering  the  mind  by  diverse  ave- 
nues, and  reported  under  different  types  of  sensibility. 
Thus  the  notion  of  time,  and  that  of  space  have  no 
real  resemblance  to  each  other.  There  is  nothing  in 
the  one  which  is  in  the  other,  and  though  they  apply 
to  the  same  things,  they  pertain  to  them  in  entirely 
distinct  relations.  They  still  remain,  like  the  blush 
on  the  cheek  of  a  peach  and  the  flavor  of  its  dis- 
solving pulp,  adhering  in  one  thing,  indeed,  yet  alien 
in  the  conditions  of  knowledge.  Consciousness  is 
such  a  regulative  idea,  one  that  sets  apart  to  a  pecu- 
liar mode  of  being  an  entire  class  of  facts  ;  moreover, 
facts  that  nowhere  overlap  those  that  transpire  in 
space.  The  two  together  cover  all  phenomena,  and 
under  this  first  central  division,  events  fall  to  the 
right  and  to  the  left,  as  those  of  matter  and  those  of 
mind,  with  an  unmistakable  and  unchangeable  boun- 
dary between  them. 

Looking  at  the  incommunicable  nature  of  conscious- 
ness and  space,  we  should  have  no  suggestion  even  of 


144  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

the  way  in  which  these  two  phenomenal  worlds  touch 
each  other.  There  is,  however,  a  third  idea,  which  in 
one  and  the  same  application  covers  them  both.  It 
is  that  of  time.  A  series  of  thoughts  synchronize  with 
a  series  of  physical  transactions  ;  and  the  inner  expe- 
rience runs  on  pari  passu  with  the  outer.  We  see 
thus  how  Leibnitz  was  led  to  look  on  the  two  worlds 
as  independent,  parallel  lines,  whose  coincidences  are 
secured  by  a  "  pre-established  harmony."  Thus  two 
clocks,  each  wound  up  by  itself,  travel  with  exact  cor- 
respondence through  the  hours  and  minutes  of  the 
day.  It  is  our  notion  of  causation  which  prevents  our 
accepting  this  independent  parallelism  of  the  spiritual 
and  physical  worlds,  and  to  believe  in  a  perpetual, 
though  unexplained,  reaction  between  them,  of  which 
the  body  is  the  inscrutable  instrument,  as  the  sunken 
cable  is  the  unsearchable  tie  of  remote  continents. 
The  assertions,  then,  that  no  physical  fact  can  put  us 
in  connection  with  a  mental  fact,  save  through  a  pre- 
vious knowledge  of  this  fact,  as  no  word  can  give  us 
an  idea,  till  we  have  attached  the  idea  to  it ;  and  that 
the  two  facts  remain  perfectly  and  forever  separable, 
are  explained  and  enforced  in  this  further  assertion, 
that  consciousness  is  to  space  a  contrasted,  regula- 
tive idea,  dividing  the  facts  of  the  world  with  it,  and 
setting  them  apart  in  a  most  radical,  inerasable  dis- 
tinction of  nature. 

We  need  further  to  explain  and  enforce  this  asser- 
tion, that  consciousness  is  a  regulative  idea.  What, 
then,  is  a  primitive  notion,  a  regulative  idea  ?  One 
that  gives  some  inseparable  form,  or  mode  of  exist- 
ence, yet  cannot  be  found  by  the  senses  in  the  ob- 


CONSCIOUSNESS,  THE  FIELD  OF  MENTAL  FACTS.     1 45 

jects  to  which  it  pertains.  Thus  time  is  not  seen, 
felt,  or  heard  by  us,  is  no  property  of  the  distinct 
events  that  transpire  in  it,  yet  is  ready  in  the  mind 
as  the  condition  of  understanding  every  transaction. 
So,  space  is  the  regulative  idea  to  the  facts  which  it 
explains  ;  is  so  in  each  of  them,  so  permeative  of  their' 
very  being,  that  it  assumes  a  variety  of  most  intimate 
relations  to  them  as  we  contemplate  it.  Space  seems 
an  antecedent  condition  to  matter,  that  in  which  the 
physical  object  is  found,  a  very  mode  of  existence  to 
matter,  since  the  extended  body  grasps  it  in  its  own 
extension.-  Yet,  after  all,  none  of  these  primitive 
conceptions  are  given  with  the  very  getting  in  the 
senses  of  the  objects  to  which  they  belong.  Space 
is  no  more  seen  than  tasted,  felt  than  smelt.  Color 
is  beheld,  but  the  actual  extension  of  that  color  we 
saw  was  arrived  at  indirectly.  Now,  to  these  charac- 
teristics of  a  regulative  idea,  consciousness  responds. 
First,  it  is  not  a  part  of  the  phenomena  to  which  it 
belongs,  as  the  hardness  of  iron  is  a  portion  of  its 
qualities.  Some  have  striven  so  to  regard  it,  and, 
like  Prof.  Porter,  have  spoken  of  it  as  an  act  of  mind  ; 
that  is,  itself  a  phenomenon,  among  mental  phenom- 
ena. This  opinion  is  obviously  untenable.  There 
can  be  no  act  of  knowledge,  which  is  not  a  conscious 
act  of  knowledge.  For  a  knowing  that  is  not  know- 
ing, would  be  an  odd  knowing  indeed.  But  if  an  act 
of  knowledge  is  made  up  of  two  acts,  the  first  of 
knowing  proper,  and  the  second  of  consciousness 
proper,  this  first  act  of  knowing  comes  to  nothing, 
since  we  know  without  being  conscious  of  it,  that  is, 
we  do  not  know.  If,  then,  we  allow  consciousness  to 
7 


I46  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

come  in  as  an  act,  it  steals  away  the  whole  marrow 
and  pith  of  every  other  act,  and,  to  be  conscious  that 
we  know,  is  to  know ;  to  be  conscious  that  we  feel, 
is  to  feel ;  to  be  conscious  that  we  will,  is  to  will. 
Hence,  some,  like  Hamilton,  have  seemed  to  shift  on 
to  this  ground,  and  to  say  that  consciousness  is  the 
inclusive,  generic  act,  of  which  each  individual  act  of 
knowledge  is  an  example.  But  this  position  is  no 
more  tenable,  since  the  genus  is  no  other  than  the 
collective  species  ;  and  if  each  specific  act  of  know- 
ing, and  equally  of  feeling  and  volition,  is  one  of  con- 
sciousness, the  distinction  between  them  disappears, 
and  all  mental  activities  are  resolved  into  a  single  ac- 
tivity called  consciousness.  We  saw  that  if  conscious- 
ness does  any  of  the  knowing,  it  does  the  whole ; 
thus  also,  if  it  does  any  of  the  feeling  it  does  the 
whole,  since  every  part  is  equally  pervaded  with  it, 
and  thus  thought,  feeling  and  volition  in  their  differ- 
ences are  lost,  swallowed  up  in  this  very  centre  and 
substratum  of  their  being.  On  the  other  hand,  re- 
gard an  act  of  knowing  as  simple  and  complete  in 
itself;  one  of  feeling,  or  one  of  volition  as  equally  so ; 
and  that  their  common  condition  or  characteristic  is 
consciousness,  and  all  is  clear,  consistent.  Now, 
however,  consciousness  has  become  a  condition,  a 
mode  of  being,  something  inseparable  from  mental 
acts,  that  by  which  and  through  which  we  understand 
'  them,  that  which  determines  them  to  be  what  they 
are,  and  this  is  to  be  a  regulative  idea.  All  perplex- 
ity, therefore,  met  with,  in  making  consciousness  any 
distinct  portion  of  mental  phenomena,  in  regarding 
that  as  phenomenal  which  accompanies  every  phe- 


CONSCIOUSNESS,  THE  FIELD  OF  MENTAL  FACTS.    1 47 

nomenon,  goes  to  show  that  the  true  key  of  the  solu- 
tion is  to  be  found  in  the  antecedent  and  necessary 
relation  of  the  mind  to  its  own  states  and  activities, 
by  which  they  are  known  to  it,  in  and  by  the  fact  of 
being  its  activities.  A  state  of  knowing,  or  of  feel- 
ing, includes,  as  its  condition  or  complement,  this 
notion  of  consciousness,  thus  revealing  it  as  the  regu- 
lative idea  of  the  department.  The  above  discussion 
may  seem  to  you  remote  and  abstruse,  but  it  is  of 
the  last  degree  of  importance.  If  its  conclusions  are 
correct,  not  only  are  all  present  identifications  of 
mental  and  physical  phenomena  shown  to  be  false, 
the  very  effort  to  make  them  is  disclosed  as  intrinsi- 
cally absurd,  as  much  so  as  to  resolve  colors  into 
odors. 

We  have  now  answered  the  question,  Where  are 
the  facts  of  philosophy  to  be  found  ?  and  come  to  our 
second  inquiry,  What  is  the  test  of  their  validity  ? 
What  is  sufficient  proof  of  the  existence  of  a  faculty, 
and,  therefore,  of  the  correctness,  the  certainty  of  the 
things  reported  by  it  ?  Before,  we  had  to  deal  chiefly 
with  materialists  as  adversaries,  now  we  have  to  deal 
with  idealists  as  well.  The  idealist  magnifies  mind  ; 
indeed,  he  makes  it  the  whole  circle  of  being.  Yet, 
he  nevertheless  assigns  an  illusory  and  deceptive 
character  to  some  of  its  conclusions,  a  portion  of  its 
powers,  to  wit :  those  by  which  it  reaches  or  fancies 
it  reaches  the  exterior  world.  He  overlooks,  in  its 
sufficient,  solid  character,  all  that  reasoning  from 
causation  by  which  we  have  shown  the  existence  and 
nature  of  matter  to  be  established.  With  these  start- 
ling inconsistencies,  idealism  may  be  a  very  brilliant, 


I48  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

logical,  consistent  system,  tracing  with  astonishing 
subtlety  the  interdependence  of  thought,  the  inherent 
laws  of  its  connections.  The  idealist  uses  the  facts 
of  the  mind,  much  as  the  naturalist  might  use  the 
images  cast,  in  a  darkened  room,  on  the  screen  of  a 
solar  microscope.  Let  all  the  minute  life  of  the  outer 
world  find  its  way  to  the  focus  of  the  instrument,  and 
thus  to  the  screen,  and  he  is  prepared  to  point  out 
resemblances,  establish  classes,  and  develop  the  crea- 
tive plan,  and  this  without  any  reference  to  the  real, 
out-door  world.  To  the  instrument  of  the  idealist,  our 
wonderfully  organized  bodies,  every  fact  does  come, 
and  is  cast  upon  the  inner  canvas  as  thoughts,  sensa- 
tions, emotions,  volitions.  On  these,  the  philosopher 
does  work  with  marvellous  manipulations,  evolving 
one  from  another,  till  the  lofty  universe  of  thought  is 
piled  up  in  proud,  airy  fashion,  transparent  and  crys- 
talline to  the  eye  of  the  intellect  in  all  directions. 

We  may  be  delighted  with  these  products  of  spec- 
ulation, but  when  we  wish,  in  a  modest,  reliable  way, 
to  know,  as  against  idealist  or  materialist,  what  is, 
we  come  back  to  this  inquiry,  What  are  our  faculties, 
what  their  proof  ?  Spencer  starts  his  Psychology 
with  this  discussion  in  another  form,  and  with  his 
usual  power  and  perspicuity,  reaches  some  conclu- 
sions valuable  for  us.  He  says,  "  The  existence  of 
beliefs  is  the  fundamental  fact,  and  those  beliefs, 
which  invariably  exist,  are  those  which,  both  ration- 
ally and  of  necessity,  we  must  adopt.  Its  invariable 
existence  is  the  ultimate  authority  for  any  belief."  I 
am  glad  to  avail  myself  of  this  statement — the  gist 
of  a  careful  discussion,  though  the  use  to  be  m. 


CONSCIOUSNESS,  THE  FIELD  OF  MENTAL  FACTS.    I49 

of  it  is  very  different  from  that  for  which  Spencer 
was  preparing  it.     There  is  no  sword  that  does  quite 
as  agreeable  a  service  as  one  captured  from  an  en- 
emy.    The  mind  can,  evidently,  do  no  otherwise,  and 
do  no  better,  than  to  accept  those  conclusions,  those 
sensations,  those  beliefs,  which   return   perpetually 
upon  it.     Spencer  may  look  upon  this  as  an*  ultimate 
fact.     We  assign,  as  its  ground  and  reason,  that  a 
persistent  repetition  of  impressions  indicates  a  power 
whose  normal  product  they  are,  and  whose  asser- 
tions are  to  be  accepted.     The  proof  in  the  human 
constitution  of  a  given  power  to  do,  is  the  doing  of 
the  action  ;  of  a  power  to  know,  is  the  actual  pres- 
ence in  the  mind  of  the  specified  knowledge.     To 
this,  there  is  only  one  limitation,  that  the  action  of 
the  mind  is  general  and  uniform.     Certain  hallucina- 
tions may  occupy  fixedly  one  mind,  or  may  be  present 
with  us  for  a  limited  period.     These,  though  neces- 
sarily carrying  to  the  patient  a  firm   conviction  of 
their  truth,  though  filling  his  whole  horizon  with  the 
absurd,  the  fantastic,  or  the  terrible,  are,  to  the  con- 
sistent whole  of  human  experience,  trivial  exceptions, 
a  breaking  in  at  a  single  point  of  foreign,  abnormal, 
unexplained  forces.     We  believe  that  we  see,  simply 
because  we  see,  see  constantly,  see  consistently,  on 
each  new  occasion  the  same  things.     These  uniform, 
well-ordered  results,  pertaining  to  ourselves  and  to  all 
about  us,  are  undeniable  proof  to  us,  of  the  existence 
and  validity  of  the  sense  of  sight ;  whose  data  are  to 
be   accepted  on   the   simple  testimony  of  the  eye. 
.  Thus  is  it  with  our  judgments,  our  reasonings.     We 
confirm  them  by  simple  repetition,  by  assuring  our- 


150  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

selves  that  they  are  the  normal,  corrected  products 
of  the  mind.  Though  the  grounds  of  opinion  are  so 
various,  that  there  is  no  general  agreement  among 
men  as  to  many  of  their  conclusions,  yet  we  rarely 
lose  faith  in  our  own  carefully-formed  judgments,  and 
if  we  do,  do  it  with  great  loss  and  detriment  to  our-i 
selves.  The  same  principle  evidently  must  cover  the 
mind's  entire  action.  If  the  ascription  of  a  cause  to 
every  effect  is  as  general  among  men  as  the  sense 
of  touch,  then  it  has,  as  a  power  of  mind,  exactly  the 
same  authority.  All  the  agreement  and  universality 
that  we  require  is,  that  fitting  conditions  shall  be  " 
attended  with  certain,  uniform  results  ;  that  when 
men's  eyes  are  open  in  the  light,  they  shall  see  ;  that 
when  a  complete,  geometric  proof  is  understood  by 
one,  he  shall  not  fail  to  accept  its  conclusions  ;  that 
when  events  are  transpiring  before  any  parties,  they 
shall  explain  their  sequence  by  the  notion  of  time. 
When  careful  analysis  has  yielded  all  the  uniformi- 
ties of"  action,  all  the  distinct  grounds  of  convic- 
tion in  our  intellectual  constitution,  there  is  therein 
disclosed  the  number  of  our  faculties  ;  each  of  which, 
in  its  normal  state,  has  equal  authority  with  every 
other,  and  exclusive  authority  in  its  own  field.  That 
one  finds  less  frequent  application  than  another,  that 
we  see  oftener  than  we  taste,  or  taste  oftener  than  we 
turn  to  Euclid,  is  immaterial,  provided  that  the  uni- 
formities are  firm  and  established  under  given  condi-^ 
tions.  Probably,  there  are  no  more  discrepancies  in 
the  action  of  any  faculty,  than  in  that  of  judgment — 
so  great  is  the  variety  of  circumstances  in  which  it  is 
brought  into  play — yet  judgment  holds  undisputed 


CONSCIOUSNESS,  THE  FIELD  OF  MENTAL  FACTS.    15  I 

authority  with  us.  That  the  mind  cannot  rationally 
resist  its  own  uniformities  is  most  plain.  If  its  action 
is  to  be  trusted  at  all,  evidently,  that  portion  of  it  is 
to  be  believed  which  is  most  consistent  and  stable. 
Its  desultory  and  distrustful  action,  intrinsically  weak, 
cannot  withstand  its  habitual  and  confirmed  action, 
constitutionally  strong.  If  our  convictions  were  the 
mere  result  of  habit,  these  ordinary  ones  must  be 
good  as  against  those  extraordinary  ones.  In  fact, 
under  the  one  set  of  conclusions,  lies  our  entire  faith 
in  ourselves,  in  the  soundness  of  our  powers  ;  and 
under  the  other,  those  fitful  impulses  of  fear,  x)f  dis- 
trust, which  are,  to  our  familiar  thoughts,  much  what 
a  transient  shock  of  an  earthquake  is  to  the  abiding 
phenomena  of  land  and  water.  Rationally,  a  distrust 
of  faculties,  established  by  these  uniformities,  finds 
no  basis  ;  as  the  action  of  mind  by  which  we  are  led 
to  doubt  all  or  any  one  of  our  powers  can  claim  no 
firmer  ground  than  that  disputed  by  it  ;  nay,  must, 
in  its  rare  occurrence  and  partial  prevalence,  rest  on 
ground  every  way  weaker.  The  faculties  are  all 
peers ;  they  all  have  the  same  chart  of  nobility,  and 
for  one  to  invalidate  the  claim  of  another,  is  to  cast 
down  its  own  claim. 

Such  is  the  human  mind,  ultimate  to  itself,  through 
all  its  faculties  ;  aiding,  indeed,  one  power  by  another ; 
shifting  the  conditions  under  which  a  power  acts  ; 
holding  faith  for  awhile  in  abeyance,  but  finally  stand- 
ing within  itself,  resting  back  on  its  own  resolved 
and  well-ordered  action  as  the  only  rock  of  belief,  the 
only  foothold  of  knowledge.  Even  when  we  attach 
ourselves  weakly  to  another,  we  must  decide  who 


152  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

that  other  shall  be,  and  repose  faith  in  those  same 
faculties  in  him,  which  we  have  discarded  in  our- 
selves. So  -firm  and 'necessary  is  this  poise  of  the 
mind  on  its  own  pivot,  that  the  unfortunate  maniac 
is  bound  fast  by  his  conceptions,  and  is  far  less 
frantic  than  would  be  one,  who  should  cut  wholly 
loose  from  these  conceptions.  Vigor  and  health  of 
mind  always  show  themselves  in  a  wholesome  con- 
fidence in  one's  faculties  ;  while  distrust  and  fear  in 
thought,  are  among  the  first  signals  of  weakness  and 
overthrow.  Like  genuine  kings,  we  rule  the  world 
from  within :  masters  of  thought,  we  rule  it,  by  a 
central  faith  in  our  own  faculties,  in  overpowering  con- 
victions that  go  forth  from  us  like  a  flood,  expending 
that  momentum  which  they  gathered  from  the  soul 
itself  in  their  very  conception,  on  every  external  ob- 
stacle, till  they  have  swallowed  it  up.  The  mind, 
then,  looks  to  itself,  for  the  facts  of  philosophy  ; 
looks  to  itself  for  its  belief  in  those  facts  ;  knows  its 
own  powers  so  as  to  trust  them,  be  satisfied  with 
them,  to  prefer  them  to  all  other  powers.  It  finds 
itself  complete,  because  it  is  complete  within  the 
circle  of  its  own  being ;  able  to  believe,  because  it 
waits  only  on  the  signature  of  its  own  faculties,  and 
not  on  the  testimony  of  another ;  novel,  unsearchable, 
and  powerful,  because  the  laws  of  its  activity  spring 
from  itself,  because  it  is  sufficient  unto  itself. 


LECTURE  VIL 

RIGHT,  THE  LAW  OF  INTELLECTUAL  LIFE. 

We  have  spoken  of  the  two  fields  of  phenomena ; 
the  one  in  space,  whose  objects  come  under  the  idea 
of  resemblance,  and  the  law  of  whose  events  is  that 
of  cause  and  effect ;  the  other  in  consciousness.  It 
is  now  our  purpose  to  inquire  into  the  law,  the  pecu- 
liar connections  of  these  mental  states  and  acts,  whose 
location  we  have  sought  for  and  found.  It  does  not 
present  itself,  as  in  the  case  of  causation,  under  a 
simple  form — one  movement  of  force  threading  to- 
gether all  facts — but  under  a  double,  or  even  more 
complex,  aspect.  The  mind  forecasts  lines  of  effort, 
laws  of  action,  and  then,  from  the  resources  of  its  own 
liberty,  chooses  between  them.  The  primary  law  of 
rational  life  is,  on  .the  perceptive  side,  that  of  right ; 
and  the  primary  principle,  on  the  side  of  power,  by 
which  our  faculties  play  into  and  under  this  law,  is 
that  of  liberty.  Neither  has  significance  without  the 
other.  Liberty  is  nothing,  if  it  finds  no  occasion  of 
choice  between  evil  and  good.  A  law  of  obligation 
is  absurd,  monstrous,  without  the  liberty  which  ren- 
ders obedience  possible. 

We  devote  the  present  lecture  to  right,  the  per- 
ceptive half  of  the  complex  law.  This  is  a  dusty, 
well-travelled  field,  with  many  by-ways.  It  will 
neither  be  pleasant  nor  profitable  to  wander  through 
them  all :  and  the  indispensable  condition  of  success 


154  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

with  us  will  be  to  rise  to  a  point,  at  which  a  clear, 
rapid,  bird's-eye  view  can  be  taken  of  the  entire 
ground.  The  facts  which  seek  explanation  are  very 
patent,  very  undeniable,  and  though  occasionally  per- 
verted in  the  statement,  are,  for  the  most  part,  well 
agreed  upon.  One  cannot  enter  civilized  society 
without  at  once  observing,  that  men  are  momentar- 
ily, in  many  forms,  instituting,  conceding  and  repel- 
ling claims  on  each  other ;  claims  which  repose  on 
what  they  call  moral  grounds,  or  grounds  of  right. 
The  family,  the  school,  the  community,  the  state, 
and  states  as  between  themselves,  are  organized  by 
means  of  them ;  and  we  have,  in  each  of  these  rela- 
tions, those  who  do  right,  and  those  who  do  wrong ; 
those  to  be  praised,  and  those  to  be  censured  ;  things 
to  be  claimed,  and  things  to  be  refused  ;  parties  to 
be  punished,  and  parties  to  be  rewarded.  No  man 
is  ever  so  vile,  but  that  he  will  complain  of  personal 
wrong  in  another,  nor  so  blind  that  he  cannot  see 
sin  that  militates  against  himself.  No  excuses  are 
so  perverse  as  not  to  take  for  granted  a  right  some- 
where ;  or  so  careless  as  not  to  strive,  in  part  at  least, 
to  attach  themselves  to  it.  Now  this  virtue,  whose 
virtue  every  man  concedes,  in  whose  presence  every 
man  is  abashed,  or  if  he  breaks  out  into  scorn,  by  the 
intensity  of  his  passion,  betrays  the  greatness  of  the 
power  he  casts  off ;  this  virtue  that  walks  everywhere 
with  authority  among  men,  that  gathers  to  itself  hate 
and  love,  like  a  Christ ;  this  invisible  spirit  that  springs 
from  the  depths  of  the  human  soul,  to  vex  and  rule 
society,  and  toss  it,  like  a  pervasive  tide,  on  its  angry 
and  its  peaceful  waves,  demands  of  philosophy  its 


RIGHT,    THE    LAW    OF    INTELLECTUAL    LIFE.      155 

occasion  and  ground.  The  facts  are  so  palpable, 
that  no  thoughtful  mind  can  escape  their  perplexity, 
and  must  perforce  cast  about  for  a  reason. 

The  central  fact  in  our  moral  nature,  using  current 
language,  is  the  perception  of  right.  This  notion 
has  a  double  bearing,  an  emotional  and  an  intellect- 
ual side.  The  two  are  inseparable  ;  we  perceive  and 
we  feel  at  the  same  instant,  the  perception  being  the 
ground  and  occasion  of  the  feeling.  The  feeling  is 
one  of  obligation  ;  the  perception  is  of  that  quality 
of  action  which  we  term  its  moral  quality.  The  two 
together,  the  intuition  and  the  emotion,  constitute 
our  notion  of  right.  The  indissoluble  nature  of  the 
two  is  important  in  this  discussion,  since  an  effort 
has  been  made  to  part  them.  Obligation  has  been 
spoken  of  as  ultimate,  while  right  has  been  derived 
from  the  ends  pursued.  They  both  must  share  the 
same  fortune.  Our  feelings  all  have  some  ground  or 
occasion,  some  object,  or  some  consideration  that  calls 
them  forth.  They  are  all  ultimate  in  this  sense,  that 
they  can  only  be  known  by  being  experienced,  that 
each  furnishes  its  own  peculiar  phase  of  emotion. 
Some  of  them,  however,  are  called  forth  directly  by 
an  object,  as  pain  by  the  thrust  of  a  sword  ;  others 
are  occasioned  indirectly  by  the  intellectual  contem- 
plation of  certain  things,  as  anger  by  an  unkind  act. 
Every  feeling  must  have  its  attachment  or  occasion  ; 
and  to  say  that  the  feeling  of  obligation  is  ultimate, 
can  mean  nothing  of  moment,  unless  it  is  thereby 
asserted,  that  the  perception  which  calls  it  forth 
is  primary  or  ultimate.  The  sense  of  obligation 
must  be  a  secondary  feeling,  if  it  rests  on  a  calcula- 


156  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

tion  of  results,  since  all  that  can  be  meant  by  a  pri- 
mary, as  opposed  to  a  secondary,  feeling  is  one  that 
springs  directly  from  an  object ;  not  indirectly  from 
a  presentation  of  the  relations  of  actions.  If  right  is 
a  primary  perception,  and  the  feeling  of  obligation 
follows  immediately  upon  it,  then  obligation  is  pri- 
mary ;  if  right  is  derived  and  secondary,  so  also  is 
obligation.  They  are  the  two  sides  of  the  same  act, 
lying  at  once  athwart  our  intellectual  and  our  emo- 
tional natures,  striking  into  them  both,  like  beauty 
and  the  pleasure  of  beauty  ;  like  the  odor  and  flavor 
of  ripe  fruit ;  the  light  and  the  heat  of  a  sunbeam. 

A  sense  of  obligation  not  attached  to  some  act, 
some  line  of  conduct,  something  in  that  act  and  line 
of  conduct  perceived  by  us  to  draw  it  forth,  is  as  un- 
intelligible as  would  be  acidity  with  no  acid,  hardness 
with  no  solid  body  ;  while  the  quality  of  action  which 
we  designate  as  right,  without  the  feeling  of  obliga- 
tion, would  be  emasculate  and  impotent,  as  fire  with- 
out heat,  light  without  its  chemical  power.  The 
philosopher,  therefore,  is  called  upon  to  account  for 
these  two,  the  source  of  all  moral  phenomena,  and 
that,  not  separately,  but  jointly,  as  one  double-headed 
act,  or  state  of  mind :  an  act  that  pushes  forward  in 
perception  and  backward  in  obligation  ;  as  a  trum- 
peter presses  on,  and  sends  ringing  behind  him  the 
word  of  command. 

Materialists,  physicists,  of  course  reject  the  primi- 
tive nature  of  the  idea,  and  in  looking  about  for  a 
source  from  which  to  derive  it,  find  one,  and  only  one 
open  to  them — the  obvious  advantages  which  belong 
to  some  lines  of  action  over  others.     We  have  various 


RIGHT,  THE  LAW  OF  INTELLECTUAL  LIFE.   1 57 

appetites,  desires,  sensibilities.  These  cannot  all  be 
gratified  by  every  line  of  effort.  A  choice  must  be 
made  between  them,  and  that  action  becomes  best 
which  brings  the  most  pleasure  and  the  least  suf- 
fering. The  task  which  falls  to  wisdom  is  so  to  plan 
and  arrange  effort ;  so  to  direct,  check  and  quicken  it, 
that  it  shall  secure  the  highest  results  in  enjoyment ; 
and  that  line  of  action  which  does  this  is  said  to  be 
right.  This  is  utilitarianism;  a  derivation  of  right 
from  the  notion  of  pleasure,  of  good  found  in  the 
best,  the  most  balanced  gratification  of  our  sensibili- 
ties. This  view  is  often  broadly  and  skilfully  taken, 
and  meets  exceedingly  well  a  portion  of  the  difficul- 
ties of  the  problem.  It  fails,  ^however,  partially  in 
explaining  the  perceptive  side  of  the  moral  act,  and 
almost  wholly  in  expounding  its  emotional  side.  It 
is  not  plain  why  a  martyr  should,  on  this  view,  lay 
down  his  life  for  his  faith  ;  since  if  you  overlook  the 
moral  nature  as  itself  an  independent  source  of  pleas- 
ure and  pain — as  of  course  you  must,  if  it  is  only  of 
a  derived,  secondary  character — you  can  give  no  suf- 
ficient reason  for  sacrificing  all  happiness,  yea,  and 
its  very  possibility,  simply  for  the  sake  of  happiness. 
Evidently,  the  pursuit  of  good  must  stop  somewhere 
short  of  extinction,  and  the  command  even  of  God 
which  should  enjoin  this,  must  be  immoral ;  that  is, 
subversive  of  the  law  of  utility,  which  is  completely 
cut  short  by  death.  If  another  life  is  to  take  up  the 
train  of  enjoyments,  it  must  do  it  on  a  different  prin- 
ciple from  this,  and  not  insist,  under  any  circum- 
stances, on  the  extinction  of  pleasures  in  the  pursuit 
of  them. 


158  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

On  the  emotional  side  the  failure  is  more  signal. 
Indeed,  there  has  been  vacillation  and  division  just 
here  among  utilitarians  as  to  the  best  way  of  ac- 
counting for  the  feeling  of  obligation.  Some  have 
been  willing  to  refer  it  to  the  very  idea  of  good,  of 
pleasures  ;  and  to  say,  that  these  when  offered  to  us, ' 
call  forth  this  emotion  ;  while  others  have  insisted 
that  society  has,  by  a  process  of  education,  imposed 
the  feeling  upon  us  ;  has  attached  it  as  a  sanction  to 
the  things  enjoined  by  it.  The  first  view  comes 
squarely  in  collision  with  the  fact,  that  we  do  not 
feel  under  obligation  to  pursue  pleasure  ;  indeed,  that 
such  an  obligation  would  be  very  superfluous  as 
pleasure  is  in  and  of  itself  a  very  sufficient  incentive, 
and  more  often  requires  the  restraint  than  the  incite- 
ment of  our  moral  nature.  If  pleasure,  good,  does 
excite  this  feeling,  it  should  of  course  do  it  most  ob- 
viously in  its  strongest  forms,  and  our  own  pleasures, 
our  immediate  pleasures,  our  appetitive  pleasures,  as 
opposed  to  the  enjoyments  of  others,  or  those  more 
remote  and  intellectual,  would  at  once  win  the  field, 
and  that  under  the  lead  of  conscience.  The  reverse 
of  this  is  true.  Conscience,  with  unsheathed  sword, 
walks  up  and  down  these  mutinous  lines,  where  im- 
portunate appetites,  and  impetuous  passions,  are 
ready  to  break  rank,  overawes  them,  thrusts  them 
back,  buffets  them  flatly,  and  assents  to  no  intrinsic 
claim  they  may  set  up.  Evidently,  then,  it  does  not 
draw  its  authority  from  pleasure,  since  here  is  pleas- 
ure, utterly  put  down  by  it,  and  that,  too,  in  those 
who  know  no  other  pleasure ;  who  are  not  shrewdly 
playing  off  the  present  against  the  future,  the  worn 


RIGHT,  THE  LAW  OF  INTELLECTUAL  LIFE.   1 59 

sixpence  of  to-day  against  the  new-coined  shilling  of 
to-morrow.  A  magistrate,  elected  by  the  mob,  rules 
the  mob  feebly.  A  conscience  which  was  but  the 
voice  of  our  pleasures,  could  hold  but  a  light  rein 
over  them.  The  stubborn  fact  is,  the  good,  the  pleas- 
urable good,  does  not  enjoin  its  pursuit  upon  us. 

Nor  does  the  alternative  explanation  better  prosper. 
The  most  striking  manifestations  of  our  moral  nature 
are  those  which  arise  in  the  very  face  of  society,  in 
flat  contradiction  of  all  it  affirms.  Of  this  nature  is 
every  reform,  thrown  back  for  its  support  on  the 
plucky  conscience  of  the  individual ;  supporting  itself 
and  forcing  support  from  others,  against  the  solid, 
uniform,  persistent  opinion  of  the  community.  We 
should  look  for  the  characteristic  features  of  any 
phenomena,  where  these  appear  in  their  most  de- 
clared, not  in  their  weakest,  form.  The  salient  facts 
in  the  moral  and  religious  history  of  the  world,  are 
those  in  which  the  few  have  resisted  the  many,  and 
the  moral  victory  has  been  won  against  majorities. 

One  other  explanation,  sufficiently  answered,  has 
been  the  affirmation,  that  the  sense  of  obligation  is 
ultimate,  while  the  right  is  derivable  from  the  good. 
The  two,  as  we  have  shown,  are  inseparable,  and 
share  the  same  fate.  Moreover,  this  view  almost 
always  tacitly  includes  in  the  highest  end,  the  good, 
the  moral  sensibilities  themselves,  which  it  cannot 
consistently  do.  While  we  are  discussing  what  is  the 
source  of  our  moral  nature,  and  are  about  to  derive 
it  from  the  general,  emotional  character  of  our  consti- 
tution, we  cannot  inclose  therein  those  very  affections 
which  are  seeking  explanation.     If  the  moral  nature 


l60  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

can  be  derived  from  itself,  if  we  have  gold  out  of 
which  to  make  gold,  the  manufacture  will  doubtless 
be  easy.  The  question  is,  can  lead,  tin,  platinum,  be 
changed  into  gold  :  can  appetites,  natural  sensibilities, 
intellectual  pleasures,  be  transmuted  into  moral  affec- 
tions ?  Can  good,  which  is  the  product  of  these,  be 
made  the  ground  and  source  of  the  right  ?  The 
effort  to  do  this  is  that  of  utilitarianism,  and  it  is 
the  only  plausible,  if  not  the  only  possible,  line  of  ar- 
gument open  to  them,  who  reject  the  idea  of  right  as 
ultimate.  No  selfishness  is  charged  on  utilitarianism, 
no  opposition  of  happiness  to  duty,  but  an  effort  to 
derive  duty  from  happiness,  from  pleasure,  good,  bles- 
sedness— all  synonymous  in  this  connection,  because 
they,  one  and  all,  can  only  mean  the  emotional  returns 
of  native  sensibilities  other  than  moral — an  effort 
which  wholly  fails  to  account  for  the  sense  of  obliga- 
tion. Philosophers  of  this  school,  when  asked,  Why 
are  we  bound  to  do  right ;  must  answer,  Because  it 
confers  good,  and,  then,  commences  that  hopeless 
evocation  of  duties  out  of  pleasures,  philosophy  strug- 
gling in  vain  to  over-rule  the  self-indulgent  and  las- 
civious crowd  with  its  own  notions  of  enjoyment ;  to 
exorcise  a  ravenous  appetite,  an  insatiate  passion,  to 
put  down  fierce  revenge  and  stubborn  will  with  a 
pleasant  song  of  the  relations  of  pleasures  one  to 
another  ;  and  the  method  in  which  they  rank  and 
out-rank  each  other  in  the  etiquette  and  court  of 
philosophy.  The  command,  the  strong  sword-stroke 
of  conscience  are  all  gone,  and  we  sit  down  to  reason 
with  the  debauchee.  We  bring  before  him  our  moral 
diagram,  and  strive  to  convince  him  that  this  column, 


RIGHT,  THE  LAW  OF  INTELLECTUAL  LIFE   l6l 

in  which  are  his  enjoyments,  does  not  foot-up  as  he 
supposes,  and  that  this  other  column  is  greater  than 
he  imagines.  With  one  dash,  he  strikes  out  our 
figures,  puts  down  his  own  glowing  estimates  of  the 
pleasures  of  lust,  and  sneeringly  asks  us  to  add  again, 
and  cast  anew  our  remainders.  Utilitarianism  would 
do  well  for  a  moral  man,  but  for  an  immoral  one,  it 
is  of  no  service.  Prizes  answer  with  honest  citizens  ; 
but  with  a  mob,  gunpowder  is  better.  Says  Martin- 
eau,  "  To  look  first  to  its  benefits,  and  then  to  its 
sanctity,  is  to  invert  the  true  order  of  our  moral  life, 
and  set  the  pyramid  of  duty  upon  its  point  rather 
than  its  base.  ...  It  is  the  tendency  of  our  times  to 
place  as  implicit  a  faith  in  the  omnipotence  of  self- 
interest  in  morals,  as  of  steam  in  the  arts  ;  forgetting 
that  between  the  grossest  and  the  most  refined  form 
of  this  principle,  there  can  only  be  the  difference 
between  the  cannibal  and  the  epicure." 

The  opposite  view  is  concisely  this  :  the  mind  it- 
self, by  direct  instinctive,  intuitive  action,  furnishes 
for  itself  a  law  of  life,  the  right.  This  quality  it  sees, 
this  obligation  it  feels,  as  a  final,  inexplicable,  inesca- 
pable fact  in  certain  lines  of  conduct,  making  it  the 
last  and  sufficient  reason  for  all  action,  that  it  is  right. 
The  right,  however,  is  only  seen  in  action  possessed 
of  certain  qualities,  and  standing  in  certain  relations. 
The  action  must  be  one  of  a  free,  intelligent  being, 
and  must  have  reference  to  the  well-being  of  all 
parties.  Those  facts  do  not  constitute  the  very 
Tightness  of  the  action,  but  are  its  grounds,  that 
which  leads  the  moral  nature  to  see  and  affirm  this 
quality  or  relation  of  it.     The  act,  however  much  hap- 


1 62  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

piness  might  flow  from  it,  was  not  obligatory  till  the 
moral  nature  pronounced  it  so  ;  and  this  is  an  addi- 
tional, ultimate  fact  in  our  constitution,  making  us 
moral,  responsible  beings.  A  reason  can  be  rendered 
for  the  right  in  an  action  in  this  sense ;  its  motives 
and  consequences  can  be  given,  the  qualities  which 
led  the  conscience,  the  mind  in  its  intuitive,  moral 
effort,  to  make  the  affirmation :  not  in  this  sense, 
that  those  motives  and  consequences  are  the  sufficient 
and  sole  source  of  the  quality,  right,  that  right  is  but 
another  name  for  them.  The  nature  of  this  view  will 
be  further  developed  in  answering  objections  to  it, 
and  in  stating  its  bearings.  It  is  evident,  at  the  out- 
set, that  it  accounts  for  the  union  of  perception  and 
emotion  in  one  indivisible,  moral  act ;  and  for  the 
riddle  and  puzzle  this  act  has  always  been  ;  the  stub- 
born residuum  it  has  always  shown  under  intellectual 
analysis.  The  necessity  of  a  reference  of  right — the 
central  idea  of  our  moral  nature — to  a  primitive, 
simple  act  of  the  mind,  is  found  in  the  failure  of 
every  other  effort  to  fully  explain  it. 

The  first  objection  we  shall  consider  against  this 
view  of  the  right  as  a  primary  idea,  is  that  so  sharply 
urged  by  Bentham,  an  Englishman  above  English- 
men, a  race  and  nationality  that  have  always  inclined 
to  make  public  morality  a  quick  distillation,  an  easy 
extract  of  public  advantage.  Bentham  fairly  scorns 
duty.  "  A  moralist,"  says  he,  "  gets  into  an  elbow- 
chair,  and  pours  forth  pompous  dogmatisms  about 
duty  and  duties.  Why  is  he  not  listened  to  ?  Because 
every  man  is  thinking  about  interests.  It  is  a  part  of 
his  very  nature  to  think  first  about  interests,  and 


RIGHT,  THE  LAW  OF  INTELLECTUAL  LIFE.  1 63 

with  these,  the  well-judging  moralist  will  find  it  for 
his  interest  to  begin."  His  objection  to  the  intuitive 
view  of  morals  is  its  arbitrary  character  :  that  it  al- 
lows every  dogmatist  and  self-constituted  teacher  to 
say  this  is  right,  because  it  is  right,  and  there  is  no 
appeal.  Let  us  give  his  language  :  "  He  who  on 
any  other  occasion  should  say,  '  It  is  as  I  say  because 
I  say  it  is  so,'  would  not  be  thought  to  have  said  any 
great  matter ;  but  on  the  question  concerning  the 
standard  of  morality,  men  have  written  great  books, 
wherein  from  beginning  to  end,  they  are  employed 
in  saying  this  and  nothing  else.  What  these  books 
have  to  depend  on  for  their  efficacy,  and  for  their 
being  thought  to  have  proved  anything,  is  the  stock 
of  self-sufficiency  in  the  writer,  and  of  implicit  defer- 
ence in  the  readers  ;  by  the  help  of  a  proper  dose  of 
which,  one  thing  may  be  made  to  go  down  as  well  as 
another."  Whatever  may  have  been  the  assumption 
of  his  adversaries,  this  man  also  is  evidently  not  suf- 
fering from  timidity.  But  what  foundation  is  there 
for  this  accusation  against  intuitive  morals,  of  an  ar- 
bitrary, irrational  character,  urged  again  in  these 
words  :  "  '  You  ought,  you  ought  not,'  cries  the  dog- 
matist. 'Why?'  retorts  the  inquirer.  'Why  ought 
I  ? '  '  Because  you  ought,'  is  the  not  unfrequent 
reply  ;  on  which  the  Why  ?  comes  back  again  with 
the  added  advantage  of  a  victory." 

Doubtless,  some  presentations  of  the  theory  of 
morals  are  open  to  this  objection  ;  not,  we  trust,  the 
one  now  given.  The  reason  why  we  pronounce  an 
act  to  be  right  is  rendered  before  the  affirmation  that 
it  is  right,  is  furnished  in  the  motives,  relations,  con- 


164  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

sequences  of  the  act.  These  are  the  grounds  and 
basis  of  the  intuition,  and  if  they  can  be  removed  or 
modified,  then  the  assertion  fails,  and  our  estimate  of 
the  act  changes.  If,  however,  these  reasons  remain- 
ing the  same,  we  are  asked  why  an  action  is  right, 
we  can  only  respond  by  re-alleging  them  ;  and  if  this 
is  not  thought  to  close  the  question,  we  must  answer 
again  by  saying,  Because  it  is  right.  That  is,  taking 
a  concrete  case,  my  moral  nature  affirms  kindness  to 
a  suffering  child  to  be  right ;  and  if  you  ask  me, 
Why  ?  I  can  only  say,  Because  it  does.  There  is 
nothing  singular  or  assumptive  about  this.  If  I  am 
asked  why  I  regard  the  apple  as  red,  I  must  needs 
say,  My  eyes  so  show  it.  If  you  regard  it  as  green, 
very  well.  I  leave  you  with  your  affirmation,  but 
must  needs  myself  adhere  to  my  own.  The  intuitive 
view  of  morals  is  not  dictatorial  and  arbitrary.  First, 
because  it  gives  grounds  or  reasons  for  its  intuitions  ; 
second,  because  it  grants  no  right -in  one  party  to 
overbear  the  conclusions  of  another.  Utility  can  do 
no  more  nor  better  than  this — to  give  reasons  and 
let  reasons  have  their  way. 

A  second  objection  following  close  on  the  above 
conclusion,  is,  that  there  is  thus  left  with  men  a 
hopeless  variety  of  opinions  ;  each  urging  his  own 
view  as  right.  Now,  we  do  not  believe  variety  to  be 
such  a  radical  evil  as  some  think  it,  nor,  that  if  it 
*  is,  that  it  can  in  any  way  be  escaped.  The  intuitive 
system  does  all  that  can  be  done.  It  shows  the 
grounds  of  the  variety  of  moral  judgments  that  now 
exist,  and  gives  the  methods  in  which  alone  any  real 
unity  can  be  secured.     The  right  is  affirmed,  by  the 


RIGHT,  THE  LAW  OF  INTELLECTUAL  LIFE.   1 65 

moral  nature,  of  actions  as  having  certain  bearings 
on  human  good,  as  productive  of  certain  results.  As, 
therefore,  the  consequences,  immediate  and  remote, 
of  an  action,  present  themselves  very  differently  to 
us,  there  is  necessarily  a  want  of  agreement  in  our 
estimate  of  its  moral  character.  We  might  as  well 
complain  of  sight  for  not,  in  every  position,  revealing 
the  same  colors  in  a  changeable  silk,  or  a  changeable 
leaf,  as  of  our  moral  sense,  for  not  disclosing  acts, 
subject  to  the  most  shifting  of  all  lights,  in  the  same 
precise  character.  The  possibility  of  increasing  unity 
is  found  in  a  faithful  effort  to  exhaust  at  least  the 
leading  features  of  conduct ;  to  view  it  from  all  sides, 
and  to  discover  its  full  bearings. 

An  allied  difficulty,  that  moral  precepts,  as  dog- 
matic and  dictatorial,  suffer  no  growth,  finds  full 
answer.  There  is  nothing  so  unites  authority  and 
reason  as  moral  law.  It  gives  a  reason,  an  adequate 
reason,  one  that  it  will  discuss  with  you  at  length. 
If,  in  the  end,  however,  you  show  yourself  unreas- 
onable, and  ask,  Why  should  I  do  right,  why  love  my 
neighbor  ?  it  puts  the  ictus  of  authority  on  the  word, 
and  retorts,  Because  it  is  right.  There  is  an  oppor- 
tunity for  unending  progress  in  morals ;  the  same 
opportunity  that  there  is  for  an  increasing  knowledge 
of  human  nature,  human  society,  and  of  those  lines 
of  relation  by  which  we  are  linked  to  each  other  and 
to  God.  Reasoning  may  moil  there,  and  mount  here, 
as  it  is  able  ;  may  search  foundations  and  climb  to 
cap-stones,  and  our  moral  sentiments  shall  expand 
with  every  step  of  the  process ;  shall  cast  a  new  and 
more  mellow  light  on  things  near  and  remote ;  shal1 


1 66  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

lift  and  spread  for  us  the  harsh,  hard,  concentrate 
commands  of  the  two  tablets,  that  strike  down  hot 
and  heavy  upon  us,  like  beams  direct  from  the  sun, 
over  the  whole  landscape  of  human  contemplation, 
breaking-  out  in  brilliant  hues  everywhere  :  yet,  after 
all,  there  shall  be  an  underlying  tone  of  strength, 
that  shall  put  us  as  certainly  on  the  track  of  authority 
in  the  moral  law  of  God,  as  of  personal  power  in  the 
voice  of  the  musician,  pouring  his  soul  through  the 
vaulted  chambers  of  sound,  and  bringing  his  senti- 
ments to  the  birth  of  harmony.  Growth  there  is  in 
morals,  but  growth  within  the  circuit  of  law,  growth 
that  carries  law  higher  and  higher,  and  sheds  it  with 
increasing  benignity  along  the  whole  horizon  of 
events.  Says  Martineau :  "  And  once  at  least  there 
has  been  a  Christ ;  not  seeking  to  thrust  up  human 
nature  from  below,  but  to  raise  it  from  above  ;  know- 
ing that  its  earth  could  produce  nothing,  except  for 
its  pure  and  spreading  heaven  ;  and  so,  coming  down 
upon  it,  as  an  angel-soul  from  the  highest  regions  of 
the  spirit ;  speaking  seldom  to  it  of  its  happiness, 
constantly  of  its  holiness ;  dwelling  little  on  the  ar- 
rangements, and  much  upon  the  responsibilities,  of 
life ;  pitying  its  woes,  as  it  pities  them  itself  in  mo- 
ments of  truest  aspirations,  not  with  mere  nervous 
sympathy,  but  with  god-like  and  healing  mercy  ;  as- 
suming its  place  in  the  midst  of  God,  and  on  the 
surface  of  eternity,  and  from  this  sublime  position  as 
a  base  computing  its  obligations,  and  uttering  oracles 
of  its  destiny." 

A  last  objection  of  which  we  shall  speak  is  that 
frequently  found  in  the  writings  of  the  distinguished 


RIGHT,  THE  LAW  OF  INTELLECTUAL  LIFE.   1 67 

moralist,  who  has  more  than  once  enforced  his  views 
from  this  place — Dr.  Hopkins.  It  is  this  :  the  notion 
of  an  ultimate  right  is  not  rational.  It  makes  an  act, 
and  not  an  end,  the  aim  of  effort.  He  says,  "  In  all 
rational  action,  the  central  conception  is  that  of  an 

end, activity  in  itself  cannot  be  a  good.     If  it 

had  no  results,  it  would  be  good  for  nothing 

No  man  can  adopt  right  as  an  ultimate  end  with  no 
regard  to  good."  With  this,  Bentham  quite  agrees. 
He  says,  "  Only  in  so  far,  then,  as  it  produces  happi- 
ness or  misery,  can  an  act  be  properly  called  virtuous 
or  vicious.  Virtue  and  vice  are  but  useless  qualities, 
unless  estimated  by  their  influences  on  the  creation 
of  pleasure  and  pain."  There  is  so  much  truth  in 
these  assertions,  and  yet  they  involve  such  subtle 
error,  that  we  need  to  proceed  with  caution,  lest  we 
lose  a  portion  of  the  one,  or  admit  a  part  of  the  other. 
The  alleged  objection  is  this :  all  rational  effort 
makes  an  end,  makes  some  form  of  good,  the  object 
of  its  exertion.  This  system  imposes  an  action,  a 
line  of  conduct  on  man,  without  referring  him  to  the 
good  to  be  obtained  by  it  ;  therein,  it  is  not  rational, 
it  overlooks  the  open  or  disguised  purpose  which  the 
human  mind  always  has  in  view.  To  the  premises 
we  assent.  All  rational  acts,  that  is,  all  acts  which 
spring  from,  and  rest  back  upon,  reasoning  processes, 
the  independent,  intellectual  movements  of  the  mind, 
find  their  impulse  in  some  good  to  be  obtained,  some 
sensibility  to  be  gratified.  We  further  accept  the 
assertion,  that  a  sensibility  is  the  condition  to  all 
good,  and  indirectly  to  all  right  action,  since  action 
becomes  right  by  its  relation  to  human  well-being. 


1 68  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

But  these  premises  do  not  involve  the  two  conse- 
quences that  are  drawn  from  them.  First,  that  to 
perform  an  action  because  it  is  right,  is  irrational ; 
second,  that  the  action  is  simply  right,  because  of 
the  good  consequent  upon  it.  They  involve  this  con- 
clusion :  that  to  do  an  act  as  right  merely,  is  so  far 
in  oversight  of  the  end  of  the  act,  and  is  obedience 
rather  than  reasoning.  The  word,  irrational,  prop- 
erly means  absurd,  opposed  to  reason.  All  that  it 
can  justly  mean  in  the  syllogism  :  A  rational  act  in- 
volves an  end  ;  to  do  right  as  right  involves  no  end  ; 
therefore,  to  do  right  is  irrational,  is  an  act  which  is 
not  the  product  of,  or  guided  by,  reasoning.  This 
conclusion  is  quite  barren  and  harmless.  So  is  an 
act  of  sight  in  this  sense  irrational ;  that  is,  one  that 
does  not  ground  itself  on  reason.  This,  in  reference 
to  the  right,  is  exactly  what  we  claim  ;  that  it  is 
something  more  than  mere  reasoning,  sending  forth 
efforts  towards  pleasures,  and  assigning  these  pleas- 
ures in  turn  as  their  ground  or  reason.  There  is 
authority,  command,  in  the  right,  and  obedience  to  a 
command"  comes  in  by  way  of  arrest  and  suspension 
of  a  purely,  self-poised  activity,  an  activity  which  Dr. 
Hopkins  would  term  a  rational  activity.  Let  us  try 
to  put  apart,  and  keep  apart  in  thought,  these  two 
aspects  or  bearings  of  an  act ;  one  of  which  he  so 
clearly  recognizes  ;  both  of  which  we  accept.  The 
same  act  in  one  view  is  wise,  in  another  is  right.  As 
wise  it  rests  upon  reasons  that  can  be  given,  ends 
that  are  pursued  by  it.  But  as  wise,  and  because  it 
is  wise,  it  is  something  more  than  wise,  to  wit,  right ; 
that  is  our  moral  nature  comes  in  with  additional  and 


RIGHT,    THE    LAW    OF    INTELLECTUAL    LIFE.     1 69 

self-poised  action  to  make  this  affirmation.  Now,  to 
perform  it  as  right  is  obedience,  and  is  in  oversight 
of  the  end  ;  to  do  it  as  wise  is  rational,  and  is  in  view 
of  the  end.  Let  me  illustrate.  A  father  lays  a  com- 
mand upon  a  son.  The  son  sees  the  wisdom  of  the 
injunction,  he  also  knows  it  to  be  authoritative.  The* 
wisdom  of  the  act  does  not  cover  or  conceal  its  au- 
thority. He  may  perform  it  independently,  because 
it  is  well  that  it  should  be  done,  and  so  do  a  rational 
thing  ;  or  he  may  perform  it  as  enjoined,  and  thus 
show  obedience.  The  last  act  is  not  rational  in  the 
sense  that  it  springs  from  the  mind's  normal,  unaided 
impulse  ;  it  is  rational  in  the  sense  that,  to  do  the 
act  as  it  was  enjoined,  and  because  it  was  enjoined, 
in  ignorance  or  in  oversight  of  its  object,  is  yet  well. 
What  we  object  to  exactly  in  the  systems  of  Bentham, 
of  Dr.  Hopkins,  and  of  many  others  is,  that  they  lack 
authority  ;  they  miss  the  moral  precept  as  law. 

No  more  is  the  second  conclusion  found  in  the  pre- 
mises, to  wit :  that  the  obligation  of  an  action  as  right, 
springs  wholly  from  the  good  it  proposes.  Says  Dr. 
Hopkins,  "  No  man  is  under  obligation  to  do  an  act 
morally  right  for  which  there  is  not  a  reason  besides 
its  being  right,  and  on  the  ground  of  which  it  is 
right."  If  this  passage  is  meant  to  affirm  that  there 
are  certain  grounds  or  conditions  on  account  of 
which  every  right  action  is  right,  we  assent  to  it  ; 
but  if  it  is  intended  to*  affirm,  as  we  suppose  it  is, 
that  these  grounds  or  reasons  are  all  that  is  meant 
by  right,  we  object  to  it,  as  absolutely  destructive  of 
morals  in  their  independent,  self-asserted  authority. 
To  recur  to  our  illustration,  it  is  easy  to  conceive  of 


170  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

the  command  of  a  parent,  that  is  not  wise,  and  thus 
to  divide  the  two  elements  of  fitness  and  authority. 
Conscience,  on  the  other  hand,  the  voice  and  author- 
ity of  God  in  the  soul  of  man,  grounds  its  commands 
exclusively  on  wisdom  ;  at  least,  on  that  which  is 
thought  to  be  wise,  and  there  is  no  actual  division 
possible  between  the  wisdom  and  the  moral  authority 
of  an  act :  yet  this  does  not  make  the  first  the  sole 
ground  and  source  of  the  last,  since  wisdom  as  wis- 
dom, as  the  sagacious  search  after  good,  has,  as  we 
have  carefully  shown,  no  authority  in  our  constitution, 
nor  power  of  command  over  us.  In  other  words,  obli- 
gation, duty,  will  not  hinge,  cannot  be  made  to  hinge, 
on  pleasure.  Bentham  is  far  more  logical  in  insisting 
that  interest,  pleasure,  good,  are  all  witfi  which  we 
have  to  do  ;  and  in  scorning  duty,  ought,  obligation 
as  the  mists  and  chimeras  of  the  mind,  than  is  one 
in  striving  to  evoke  these  mighty  shades  of  author- 
ity in  the  spiritual  world,  from  the  sensibilities  which 
find  play  in  our  purely  physical  and  intellectual 
constitution  ;  all  that  belong  to  us  till  we  have  rec- 
ognized our  independent,  moral  constitution,  with  its 
supporting  emotions.  One  is  not  to  hold  fast  to  the 
fruits  of  a  system,  while  rejecting  the  grounds  on 
which  they  rest.  If  morality  has  not  an  independent, 
perceptive  basis  in  the  constitution,  it  can  have  no 
independent  sensibilities  with  which  to  support  and 
reward  virtue.  We  beg  leave  to  suggest,  that  Dr. 
Hopkins  overlooks  this  fact,  and  while  laying  com- 
mendable stress  on  the  rational  element  in  ethics, 
goes  further  than  he  of  right  can,  in  supporting  his 
view  by  the  blessedness  obedience  confers.     This  he 


RIGHT,  THE  LAW  OF  INTELLECTUAL  LIFE.   I/I 

is  very  willing  to  oppose  to  the  happiness  of  the  util- 
itarian, whereas  it  is  of  the  same  nature.  Blessed- 
ness as  a  preeminent,  ethical  sentiment  can  be  the 
fruit  alone  of  a  preeminent,  ethical  intuition.  The 
theory  of  morals  is  so  central  in  all  questions  of  char- 
acter, of  social  and  of  civil  import ;  is  so  subtile  in 
itself;  and  has  been  so  perplexed  by  deficient, and 
false  presentations,  that  we  shall  be  excusable  in 
occupying  a  little  time  with  it.  We  shall  be  without 
excuse  if  we  fail  to  do  all  that  we  can  to  make  it  clear. 
We  wish  further,  therefore,  to  point  out  some  of  the 
relations  of  this  primitive,  intuitive  right  which  we 
have  insisted  on.    . 

The  first  of  them  is  its  connection  with  happiness; 
We  suppose  that  the  highest  happiness  will  always 
be  secured  by  obedience  to  the  right-;  and  this  for 
two  reasons.  The  universe  is  under  the  government 
of  God,  and  he  has  so  constructed  its  natural  and  its 
moral  laws,  that  they  run  parallel  with  each  other. 
One  of  the  surest  ways,  therefore,  to  reach  good, 
physical,  intellectual  and  social  good  in  a  broad  and 
complete  form,  is  to  render  obedience  to  the  moral  law. 
This  law  was  inlaid  in  our  constitution  by  our  Heav- 
enly Father,  and  has  received  from  him  the  guidance 
of  many  direct  precepts  in  reference  to  this  very  end 
of  putting  us  in  the  lines  of  natural  law,  and  of 
reaping  the  good  under  them  which  comes  from  obe- 
dience. Moreover,  the  moral  nature  itself  involves 
powerful  sensibilities.  Inseparable  from  right,  is  the 
satisfaction  of  obedience,  are  our  own  approval  and  the 
approval  of  God.  Hence  the  emotions  immediately 
consequent  on  the  independent  nature  of  the  right 


172  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

so  reward  virtuous  action,  so  augment  the  balance  of 
pleasure  in  purely  ethical  conduct,  as  to  cause  this 
always  to  be  the  path  of  highest  enjoyment,  if  not 
at  once,  yet  finally.  This  last  and  highest  form  of 
good,  coming  always  in  overwhelming  amount  to 
settle  the  results  as  respects  pleasure,  can  only  flow 
from  obedience  to  an  independent  law,  since  it  is  the 
sense  of  obedience  that  is  the  ground  of  it.  The 
satisfaction  of  wisdom,  of  sagacity  in  selecting  and 
pursuing  enjoyments,  is  very  different,  and  can  itself 
constitute  no  ground  of  deciding  between  two  lines 
of  conduct,  since,  whichever  we  choose  in  view  of 
their  consequences,  we  shall  commend  the  choice  to 
ourselves  as  wise.  A  sense  of  sagacity  accompanies 
the  rogue  as  readily  as  the  honest  man. 

For  these  two  reasons,  then,  the  government  of 
God  and  the  rewards  of  the  moral  nature  itself,  the 
highest  happiness  does  always  flow  from  obedience 
to  the  moral  law.  The  happiness  conferred,  the  con- 
sequences of  an  action  in  the  good  it  bestows,  are 
always  a  test,  therefore,  of  its  character  as  right  or 
wrong.  If  we  were  sure  of  the  entire  results  of  an 
action,  we  should  thereby  be  made  sure  of  its  moral 
quality.  Yet  this  enjoyment  conditioned  on  obedi- 
ence is,  much  of  it,  not  the  ground  of  the  law,  nor 
the  motive  in  obedience,  but  the  consequence  of  obe- 
dience. When  a  distressed  and  perplexed  Cranmer 
is  striving  to  nerve  himself  up  to  the  final  effort^ 
he  does  not  anticipate  the  triumph  and  satisfaction 
which  are  to  follow  when  the  conflict  is  past,  and  the 
question  finally  and  favorably  settled.  In  an  intense, 
moral  struggle,  there  is  always  a  fulfillment  of  those 


RIGHT,  THE  LAW  OF  INTELLECTUAL  LIFE.   1 73 

remarkable  words  of  Christ :  "  He  that  findeth  his 
life  shall  lose  it :  and  he  that  loseth  his  life  for  my 
sake  shall  find  it."  What  Dr.  Hopkins  so  well  says  in 
defence  of  the  existence  of  disinterested  affection,  is, 
in  exact  form  and  with  higher  import,  applicable  to 
disinterested  obedience  to  the  moral  precept.  His 
language  is  explicit  and  strong :  "  The  desire  is  for 
the  happiness  of  others,  and  the  moment  it  ceases  to 
be  that — that  disinterestedly — the  affection  itself  is 
gone,  and  with  it,  the  very  source  of  our  happiness. 
The  gold  is  become  dim,  or  rather  dross,  and  the 
most  fine  gold  is  changed."  Thus  the  profound 
questions  of  obedience,  the  deep  conflicts  of  our 
nature  with  sin,  are  usually  settled  in  comparative 
darkness;  are -often  won  in  deep  discouragement, 
and  the  storm-clouds  part  only  after  the  crisis  has 
been  passed,  the  moral  victory  gained.  Then,  for 
the  first  time,  it  is  both  seen  and  felt,  that  we  yielded 
little  or  nothing  in  real  good,  and  gained  all. 

There  is  also  another  relation  of  right  to  happi- 
ness, that  portion  of  happiness  which  arises  from  our 
physical  and  intellectual  constitution,  aside  from  the 
moral  element.  It  cannot  be  shown — nay,  the  re- 
verse is  in  many  cases  obvious — that  this  portion  of 
good,  which  alone  the  utilitarian  is  at  liberty  to  con- 
sider, will  always  pronounce  for  virtue  with  an  over- 
plus of  pleasure.  Indeed,  if  our  moral  constitution 
could  be  gotten  rid  of,  there  would,  at  least,  be  a 
grave  doubt  whether  many  of  the  tasteful  and  intel- 
lectual forms  of  self-indulgence  ;  or,  indeed,  some  of 
the  grosser  forms,  considering  the  native  proclivities 
of  the  persons  whose  pleasures  are  involved,  would 


174  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

not,  so  far  as  our  visible  horizon  extends,  result  in  a 
balance  of  enjoyment,  credited  and  paid  to  the  par- 
ties who  have  sought  their  own  ends.  At  least  the 
moral  problem,  which  this  world  is  said  to  present, 
of  disorder  and  maladjustment,  and  whose  existence 
calls  for  another  world  of  correction  and  redistri-i 
bution,  plainly  implies  this  :  that  good,  omitting  the 
moral  emotions  themselves,  does  not  seem  uniformly 
to  accompany  virtue.  Nevertheless,  these  secondary 
forms  of  good  are  admitted  by  us,  as  steadily  entering 
into  the  consequences  of  moral  actions,  and  consti- 
tuting a  portion — though  only  a  portion — of  those 
conditions  or  considerations,  on  the  ground  of  which, 
the  conscience  pronounces  it  right.  A  poor  man 
asks  of  me  aid.  He  needs  it.  I  can  readily  bestow 
it.  Now  this  relation  of  my  gift  to  his  good  or  pros- 
perity is  what  leads  me  to  say,  or  at  least  my  neigh- 
bors to  say,  that  I  should  bestow  it ;  that  I  ought  to 
bestow  it.  The  difference  between  the  intuitive  and 
the  utilitarian  philosopher  lies  in  reference  to  such  an 
act  precisely  here :  both  agree  that  the  virtuous  act 
finds  its  spring  or  occasion  in  the  physical  good  ;  but 
the  last  adds,  this  covers  the  entire  problem.  The 
good  given,  and  the  good,  under  natural  law,  conse- 
quent thereon,  are  the  entire  motive  and  obligation 
of  the  act  ;  the  act  as  right,  accepts  this  as  a  final 
and  complete  explanation.  Nay,  says  the  intuitive 
philosopher,  had  it  not  been  for  this  physical  good 
that  I  confer,  there  would,  indeed,  have  been  no  vir- 
tuous act  to  perform ;  but  on  this  opportunity  or 
occasion,  my  moral  nature  steps  in,  lays  the  act  on 
me  as  obligatory,  and  gives  me  the  satisfaction  in 


RIGHT,  THE  LAW  OF  INTELLECTUAL  LIFE.   1 75 

performing  it  of  having  reached  a  higher  end  than 
that*of  pleasure  in  thus  fulfilling  the  moral  law  of 
my  being.  The  relation,  then,  of  happiness  to  right 
is  concisely  this  :  the  highest  happiness  always  fol- 
lows from  obedience  to  it,  because  of  God's  govern- 
ment and  our  own  moral  nature.  Happiness  is  thus 
a  practical  characteristic,  and  hence,  often  a  test  of 
right  action.  Again,  good,  under  purely  natural  law, 
enters  as  that  ground  or  condition  in  actions  which 
leads  us  to  call  them  right,  but  is  not  the  measure  or 
source  of  that  right.  The  parent  commands  the 
child  to  share  his  playthings  with  his  fellow.  The 
act  has  now  two  reasons  :  the  enjoyment  of  a  brother, 
and  the  will  of  a  father.  Thus  moral  acts  have  two 
grounds  ;  the  good  conferred,  and  the  will  of  God, 
our  Creator,  expressed  in  the  voice  of  conscience 
concerning  that  good. 

The  next  relation  of  this  notion  of  right  is  to  prac- 
tice, to  daily  conduct.  Precepts,  rules,  laws,  are  the 
forms  which  the  ethical  element  assumes,  and  must 
assume  in  practice.  It  is  acts  to  be  done  that  are 
enjoined  upon  us  in  the  word  of  God.  This  is  pro- 
hibited, and  that  is  commanded,  and  through  a  series 
of  separate  considerations,  the  law  finds  its  way  slowly 
into  our  lives.  The  philosophy  of  a  supreme  end  is 
philosophy,  not  practice.  Who  can  wait  to  hunt  up 
his  supreme  end  before  he  begins  to  live  !  What 
were  the  relations  of  life  to  morality  before  the  phil- 
osophy of  a  supreme  end  sprang  up,  or  still  are  where 
it  remains  an  unknown  speculation  ?  We  live  by 
details.  Our  duties  and  dangers  are  those  of  the 
hour,  and  require  for  the  most  part  the  solution  of 


iy6  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

specific  precepts.  Precepts  do  indeed  rest  back  on 
principles,  yet  few  grasp  the  principles  ;  most  employ 
the  rule  closest  at  hand.  Our  lives  are  shaped  under 
laws  obeyed,  acts  performed,  rather  than  under  the 
abstract  conception  of  a  supreme  end.  Whatever 
may  be  the  theory  of  morals,  the  real  way-marks  of 
life  stand  at  the  entrance  of  this  and  that  line  of 
conduct,  this  and  that  form  of  action. 

Indeed,  is  there  any  such  thing  as  a  supreme  good, 
to  be  pursued  through  light  and  darkness,  in  all  the 
accidents  and  incidents  of  life  ?  We  think  not,  unless 
we  are  content  to  mean  thereby  obedience  to  a  moral 
law,  which  Dr.  Hopkins  so  carefully  excludes  from, 
and  contrasts  with,  the  supreme  good.  A  good  can- 
not be  a  supreme  good  unless  its  pursuit  is  obliga- 
tory ;  or  unless,  by  its  superiority  of  pleasures,  it  sur- 
passes all  other  good.  What  good  does  this,  except 
that  good  which  arises  from  obedience  to  the  moral 
law  as  a  law  ?  Other  forms  of  good  than  moral  good 
are  not  supreme  in  either  of  these  senses ;  no  one 
of  them  is  obligatory  over  others  ;  no  one  of  them 
uniformly  surpasses  every  other.  The  life  and  the 
philosophy  alike,  therefore,  which  refuse  to  accept  the 
moral  law  as  ultimate,  and  start  off  in  a  pursuit  of 
good,  have  no  right  to  talk  about  a  supreme  good, 
unless  this  supreme  pleasure  is  to  arise  from  an  action 
of  all  the  powers,  each  in  its  own  province.  Goods, 
many  goods,  appetitive  and  intellectual,  social  and  soli- 
tary, should  be  the  watch-word  of  this  philosophy,  not 
a  supreme  good,  since  there  is  no  such  single  good. 
Advantages  of  all  sorts  are  to  be  sought  for,  sought 
where  they  are  to  be  found,  in  any  and  every  portion 


RIGHT,  THE  LAW  OF  INTELLECTUAL  LIFE.   1 77 

of  our  constitution.  The  philosopher  may  make  his 
list  of  pleasures  as  exhaustive  as  he  pleases  ;  may  go 
as  high  as  he  can — provided  he  does  not  assume  an 
independent  moral  nature,  whose  existence  he  has 
denied — may  go  as  deep  as  he  can,  may  sort  and 
parcel  out  his  enjoyments  with  utmost  skill,  may  cau- 
tiously establish  a  rank  among  them  with  its  "  law  of 
limitations  ; "  and  if  others  accept  his  conclusions,  he 
and  they  will  be  guided  as  to  what  pleasures  are  to 
be  sought,  and  when  and  where  they  are  to  be  sought, 
but  there  must  remain  throughout  divisibility  and 
separation,  many  distinct  forms  of  good,  not  a  su- 
preme good.  How  can  such  a  one  still  say  that 
blessedness  is  the  supreme  end,  the  blessedness  of 
God  and  of  his  rational  universe,  and  give  thereby 
any  more  than  a  nominal,  verbal  unity  to  action  ?  I 
may  say  of  a  community,  prosperity  is  its  supreme 
end  or  aim ;  but  I  do  not  thereby  define  any  one  ob- 
ject which  is  to  be  pursued  by  it  in  seeking  this  pros- 
perity. These  objects  will  remain  many,  and  I  can 
only  mean  to  say,  that  they  are  all  to  be  sought  only 
so  far  as  they  minister  to  prosperity.  The  unity, 
therefore,  so  far  as  I  have  reached  any,  lies  not  in 
the  objects  aimed  at — these  may  be  the  products  of 
ten,  twenty,  an  hundred  branches  of  industry — but  in 
the  law  or  precept  under  which  these  are  severally  to 
be  labored  for,  to  wit:  that  they  shall  tend  to  the 
prosperity  of  all.  Thus  blessedness,  as  a  compound 
of  all  pleasures,  presents  no  single  supreme  end,  and 
when  so  spoken  of,  looks  vaguely  towards  some  law 
or  method  by  which  a  thousand  separate  pleasures 
or  ends  are  to  be  gained.     The  practical  test  of  the 


178  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

wisdom  of  each  action  would  be,  Does  it  conform  to 
those  rules  of  judgment  by  which  pleasures  replace 
each  other,  by  which  now  one,  now  another,  is  pur- 
sued ?  Thus,  this  philosophy  of  ends  travels  its  en- 
tire circuit  only  to  get  back  to  a  law,  to  escape  which 
it  first  set  out. 

If,  now,  any  choose  to  accept  this  result,  and  to 
say  with  Bentham,  that  the  office  of  the  moral  guide 
is  that  of  a  "  scout ; "  that  it  is  his  labor  to  scurry  on 
and  race  around  in  pursuit  of  the  results  of  action  ; 
to  contemplate  consequences,  immediate  and  remote, 
and  frame  precepts  upon  them  ;  these  may  ask,  Since 
you  have  admitted  that  happiness  is  a  test  of  moral 
action,  why  are  we  not  at  least  practically  safe  and 
wise  in  shaping  action  in  reference  to  it  ?  The 
answer  is  easy  and  decisive.  There  is  very  much 
besides  the  consequences  which  flow  from  action, 
which  helps  us  to  decide  on  its  character.  These 
results  are  often  very  obscure  and  uncertain ;  and 
in  their  anticipation,  suffer,  above  all  other  elements 
in  the  problem,  perversion  by  our  fears,  our  hopes, 
our  desires.  The  moral  judgment  is  quickened, 
corrected  and  sustained  by  the  moral  sensibilities, 
the  affections  which  gather  about  it,  and  become  the 
means  of  speedy  and  delicate  analysis  and  inter- 
pretation of  action.  The  ethical,  like  the  esthetical 
sense,  gives  rise  in  its  cultivation  to  peculiar  and 
very  sensitive  states  of  emotion,  and  these  respond 
with  decisive  and  immediate  power  to  the  moral 
qualities  of  an  action.  Its  concealment,  its  circum- 
vention, its  openness,  its  magnanimity  are  scented  in 
the  air  by  these  watchful  attendants  of  conscience, 


RIGHT,  THE  LAW  OF  INTELLECTUAL  LIFE.   1/9 

quickly  snuffing  the  trail  of  duty.  To  decide  on  the 
beauty  of  a  painting,  requires  a  sensitive  heart,  re- 
flecting in  on  the  intellect  a  just  appreciation  of  its 
sentiments  :  to  decide  on  the  moral  bearings  of  con- 
duct requires  a  lively  appreciation  of  ite  true,  its 
intrinsic  quality,  and  this  is  reached  by  the  moral 
sensibilities  quite  as  much  as  by  a  cold,  logical 
development  of  its  xonsequences.  The  prism,  dis- 
solving light  into  colors,  discloses  the  beauty  that 
is  in  it :  the  affections,  the  moral  medium  of  the 
soul,  separate  conduct  into  its  secret,  its  sweet  cur- 
rents of  emotion,  and  thus  lay  open  the  good  that 
is  in  it. 

Again,  moral  principles  are  interdependent,  are 
parts  of  a  system,  cast  much  light  on  each  other,  lend 
each  other  authority,  and  become,  through  the  great 
inquiry  that  has  been  expended  upon  them,  guides, 
far  better  than  our  ability,  in  any  given  case,  to  trace 
the  results  of  action.  They  inspire  a  certain  confi- 
dence, and  lead  us  to  feel,  that  they  will,  by  their 
own  moral  power,  bear  down  and  defeat  very  prob- 
able, natural  consequences,  that  are  ready  to  confront 
them  and  force  them  back.  I  may  say  universally, 
those  who  ground  their  moral  judgments  on  the  re- 
sults which  they  anticipate,  in  each  exigency,  from 
action,  are  trimmers,  time-servers  ;  and  those  who  re- 
pose on  moral  principles  in  the  face  of  predicted  evils, 
are  reformers  and  progressionists.  Take  such  a  con- 
troversy as  that  concerning  slavery.  How  long  was 
emancipation  opposed  by  those  who  gave  a  weak 
assent,  indeed,  to  purely  ethical  reasons,  but  always 
found   in    their   horoscope   such    contingencies   and 


1 80  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

combinations  as  to  indicate  that  the  time  had  not 
come.  Indeed,  men  usually  fail  of  obedience  in  the 
hour  of  trial  by  a  calculation  of  consequences,  and  by 
substituting  the  partial  conclusions  so  arrived  at  for 
the  clear  decisions  of  the  moral  reason.  Once  more, 
most  of  the  instructions  of  Revelation  assume  the 
form  of  precepts,  while  very  little  effort  is  made  to 
trace  the  natural  consequences  of  particular  actions. 
Hence,  it  becomes  an  efficient  guide  only  through 
obedience,  an  obedience  which  justifies  itself  as  obe- 
dience without  much  foresight.  The  children  of  God 
go  very  often,  not  knowing  whither  they  go.  Thus 
practical  ethics  are  ever  assuming  the  form  of  rules 
laid  down,  rather  than  of  reasons  rendered  under  the 
natural  consequences  of  conduct :  not  that  the  first 
excludes  the  last,  but  that  those  are  more  immediate, 
pertinent  and  efficient  than  these. 

A  third  relation  of  an  intrinsic  right,  is  to  the  ra- 
tional, intellectual  element  in  our  constitution.  We 
suppose  that  conscience  is  meant  to  supplement  this, 
not  to  displace  it.  Our  reasoning  processes  are 
called  forth  to  the  full  in  unfolding  those  relations  of 
conduct  on  which  conscience  pronounces  ;  but  the 
supreme  authority  in  action,  the  last  appeal  is  not 
made  to  the  judgment.  Inquiry,  investigation,  are 
the  order  of  the  day  in  the  ethical  court,  but  that 
which  goes  forth  from  it  is  certified  with  an  authori- 
tative seal.  Conscience,  in  its  stubborn  command,  is 
somewhat  of  the  nature  of  an  instinct,  and  yet  it 
leads  us  constantly  out  of  blind  obedience  into  a  ra- 
tional comprehension  of  the  consequences  of  virtuous 
action  and  satisfaction  therein.     The  philosophy  of 


RIGHT,  THE  LAW  OF  INTELLECTUAL  LIFE   l8l 

ends,  when  it  comes,  shows  to  us  that  that  which  we 
have  obeyed  as  right  has  been  truly  right,  and  we 
may  hence  walk  with  open  vision.  The  child  who 
has  been  fortunate  enough  to  fall  under  a  truly  wise 
government,  grows  up  under,  and  thus  into,  the  wis- 
dom of  that  discipline,  and,  at  length,  finds  its  own 
view  of  good  wholly  consonant  with  that  laid  upon 
it.  Thus  obedience  passes  constantly  from  its  servile 
form  into  one  of  freedom,  into  one  of  comprehension 
— an  intelligent  rendering  of  that  which  the  soul 
gives  with  indescribable  pleasure.  It  is  as  if  the 
bee,  building  by  instinct,  should  come,  at  length,  to 
an  apprehension  of  its  work,  and  marvel  at  the  per- 
fect skill,  the  mathematical  exactness  of  its  labor. 
Thus  with  man  ;  the  instinctive,  the  authoritative 
element,  is  more  and  more  taken  up  into  the  rational 
and  the  .voluntary  element,  though  these  receive  their 
bias  and  form  from  those."  Our  life  becomes  more 
spontaneous,  without  being  less  exact. 

Again,  we  direct  attention  to  the  relation  of  the 
right  to  God.  Dr.  Hopkins  writes,  in  his  answer  to 
Dr.  McCosh,  "  It  was  said  to  me  recently, '  we  are  to 
love  God  because  we  love  virtue,'  as  if  the  love  of  God 
were  not  virtue.  In  the  same  way  we  are  to  love 
our  fellow-men,  not  for  their  sakes,  but  for  the  sake 
of  the  right."  And  further  on,  "  I  have  seen  quite 
enough  of  this  abstract,  hard,  godless,  loveless  love 
of  right  and  virtue,  instead  of  the  love  of  God  and  of 
man."  This  passage  is  a  good  illustration  of  the 
difficulty  often  met  with  in  understanding  an  argu- 
ment preparatory  to  answering  it.  If  we  mean  by 
the  love  of  God,  the  love  which  flows  from  approval, 


1 82  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

as  the  person  above  referred  to  plainly  intended, 
then,  I  ask,  On  what  is  that  satisfaction  in  God's 
character  which  calls  forth  affection  based,  save  his 
virtue  ?  If  he  were  not  virtuous  above  others,  evi- 
dently he  could  not  be  loved  above  others.  Charac- 
ter is  the  basis  of  love,  and  virtue  is  the  basis  of 
character.  If  God  were  vicious,  it  would  be  vicious 
to  love  him  in  this  sense  of  the  word.  The  same  is 
equally  true  of  our  fellow-men.  The  above  language 
becomes  plausible  when  the  word  love  is  used  in  a 
different  sense,  and  one  not  intended  by  the  person 
who  affirmed,  "  we  love  God  because  we  love  virtue." 
This  second  meaning  is  the  love  of  benevolence,  or 
good-will.  Now  we  may  have  good-will  toward  a 
devil,  and  that  we  do  will  doubtless  be  a  proof  of  our 
virtue.  No  man  is  beyond  our  commiseration,  and 
the  depth  of  our  compassion  shows  how  far  our  moral 
convictions  have  gone  down  into  the  soul.  To  love 
God  with  the  love  of  good-will  is,  doubtless,  virtue, 
and  not  the  fruit  of  his  virtue :  but  the  form  of  love 
more  frequently  contemplated  in  speaking  of  God, 
is  not  this  love,  which  may  belong  to  a  thief  as 
well,  but  the  love  of  approbation,  of  admiration,  and 
this  is  based  on  virtue.  It  is  this  law  of  an  infinitely 
glorious  life,  and  his  perfect  obedience  thereto,  that 
calls  forth  our  adorative  love  of  God  ;  and  approxi- 
mations towards  a  like  perfection,  that  attract  us  to- 
ward our  fellow-men.  This  does  not  put  the  right 
above  God,  it  puts  it  in  God.  It  is  the  law  of  his 
own  uncreated,  perfect  nature  that  he  follows,  and  so 
following  is  virtuous.  The  law  is  above  us,  because 
our  natures  are  given  us  ;  it  is  within  and  of  him,  be- 


RIGHT,    THE    LAW    OF    INTELLECTUAL    LIFE.     1 83 

cause  he  is  from  all  eternity.  The  seat  of  the  right 
is  the  moral  health  and  hygiene  of  Heaven,  a  perfect 
nature,  perfectly  unfolded.  This  excellence  we  bow 
before  ;  this  holiness  we  worship  ;  this  love  we  love  ; 
not  because  we  bear  God  good-will,  but  because  the 
atmosphere  of  the  soul  is  luminous  everywhere  with 
his  glory.  God  is  a  law  to  himself,  and,  making  us 
in  his  image,  that  law  has  become  a  law  to  us  ;  and, 
through  it,  we  go  back  to  the  comprehension  and 
admiration  and  exaltation  of  his  perfections. 

One  other  relation  we  glance  at,  that  of  the  law 
of  an  absolute  right  to  the  doctrine,  of  immortality. 
We  find  great  encouragement  in  our  belief  of  the  last, 
from  our  acceptance  of  the  first.  A  law  of  prudence, 
of  wisdom,  if  you  prefer  it,  is  fitted  to  this  life,  is 
needed  even  if  this  is  the  whole  of  life,  is  not  too 
much  for  the  state  we  are  here  in. 

Not  thus  is  it  with  an  absolute  right.  Here  is  a 
wheel  that  strikes  into  the  mechanism  of  our  lives, 
but  does  not  complete  an  entire  revolution  before  us. 
It  has  a  sweep  of  consequences  and  compensations 
which  are  not  rounded  to  their  beginning  in  this 
present  existence.  It  is  a  law  beyond  what  is  re- 
quired for  this  state  of  being. 

Martyrdom  is  not  a  stroke  of  prudence.  It  sur- 
renders all,  either  for  nothing,  or  for  immortality. 
Not  for  nothing  says  conscience,  leading  the  soul  to 
the  sacrifice  ;  hence  for  immortality.  Every  rack, 
every  stake,  every  cross,  every  eye  that  has  caught 
the  inspiration  of  their  heroism,  every  heart  that  has 
responded  to  their  faith,  has  given  proof  to  immortal- 
ity ;  has  disclosed  its  deep  seats  in  the  soul.     In  the 


184  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

mouth  of  these  many  witnesses  shall  every  word  be 
established. 

Fall  from  this  wisdom,  and  you  sink  into  perfect 
folly.  Fail  to  establish  this  foot-hold  on  the  invisible, 
and  you  go  back  to  dust.  Stumble  on  these  heights 
of  virtue,  and  you  pass  sheer  down  to  the  dead. 
Live  by  this  law,  and  you  have  surrendered  all, 
gained  all ;  have  cast  that  which  now  is  into  the 
shadow  of  that  which  shall  be. 


LECTURE  VIII. 

LIBERTY. 

We  said  in  our  last  lecture,  that  the  connections 
of  the  mental  world  are  not  of  that  simple,  causative 
character  which  belong  to  those  of  matter,  but  bear 
a  double  aspect.     A  law  runs  before  our  rational  acts, 
and  these  spring  up  in  obedience  to  it.     In  matter, 
the  law  is  in  the  force,  and  the  disclosure  of  it  and 
its  existence  are  identical.     In  mind,  the   law  goes 
before  the  activity,  and  this  arises  under  it,  is  not 
conditioned  to  it.     This  antecedent  law,  the  right, 
we  have  spoken  of.     We  have  glanced  at  its  relations 
to  reason,  shown  their  increasing  coalescence  ;  the 
steady  adoption  and  sanction  under  the  authority  of 
virtue,  of  all  the  wise  thoughts  and  plans  of  life  ;  the 
sending  forth  of  thought  by  virtue,  both  to  prepare 
her  path  and  accomplish  her  labors.     We  should  also 
add,  that  we  may  not  seem  to  omit  it,  the  supplemen- 
tary, esthetical  perception,  by  which  all  high  effort 
becomes  one  of  beauty,  and  gathers,  from  this  fact, 
a  peculiar  exaltation  and  completeness.     Let  it  be 
borne  in  mind,  however,  that  these  guides,  of  whom 
the  royal  one  is  virtue,  run  before  the  activity,  pro- 
pound themselves  to  the  soul  for  its  acceptance,  and 
do  not   in  any  way  accomplish  their  own  counsels. 
We  come,  therefore,  to  the  second  portion  of  the  law 
of  connections  in  the  mind — that  which  defines  the 
nature  of  the  executive  force.     Here,  we  encounter 


1 86  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

liberty,  instead  of  necessity  ;  a  free  and  spontaneous, 
instead  of  a  causal  activity.  This  notion  of  a  free-will 
has  suffered  many  perverted  and  inadequate  state- 
ments, and  has  encountered  opposition  from  all  classes 
of  philosophers.  The  attack  has  been  by  no  means 
confined  to  materialism,  in  its  complete  form,  or  in- 
cipient stages.  Indeed,  we  are  not  dealing  historically 
with  our  subject,  and  have  made  no  effort  to  keep  apart 
those  many  phases  of  belief  which  slowly  ripen  into 
materialism,  or  striven  to  define  the  transition  point  be- 
yond which  the  word,  materialist,  ought  to  take  effect. 
To  prosper  in  our  inquiry,  we  must  thoroughly  un- 
derstand ourselves,  and  this  we  do  the  more  easily  in 
keeping  somewhat  clear  of  others,  and  first  running 
out  our  own  lines  of  thought.  Let  us  revert  to  our 
conception  of  a  cause,  as  it  is  in  contrast  with  this, 
that  spontaneity  and  liberty  are  to  be  understood. 
Under  all  physical  phenomena,  the  mind  puts  a  force 
which  is  their  occasion  or  cause.  The  cause  coexists 
with  the  effect ;  the  two  are  inseparable,  the  visible 
and  invisible  sides  of  the  same  thing ;  the  phenom- 
enon or  outer  form,  the  nomenon  or  inner  essence, 
of  the  one  being.  These  causes,  strictly,  are  never 
in  any  way  known  to  our  senses,  yet  the  mind  con- 
ceives them  as  determined,  fixed,  measured  forces, 
which  are  capable  of  certain  results,  and  no  others  ; 
forces  from  which  the  specified  effects  must  follow, 
in  an  invariable  amount  and  order.  Other  external 
causes  may  be  strong  enough  to  reach  and  modify  the 
causes  contemplated,  and  thus  vary  the  results,  but  the 
forces  in  these  are  shaped  for  certain  effects,  and  are 
capable  of  no  others.     When  we  come  to  mind,  we 


LIBERTY.  187 

see  this  conception  of  fixed  forces  is  not  applicable. 
Mind  as  mind  is  spontaneous  in  its  action.  By  this 
we  mean,  that  its  activities  spring  from  itself,  and  do 
not,  as  is  the  case  with  matter,  exist  in  it,  as  definite 
realized  forces.  This  is  shown  best  by  the  variable, 
unequal,  independent  way  in  which  they  spring  up. 
A  clock  runs  for  a  certain  length  of  time.  It  is  con- 
ditioned from  the  outset  to  a  fixed  sequence,  and  a 
limited  extent  of  activity.  The  same  is  true  of  the 
most  complex,  chemical  and  physical  changes,  is  true 
of  all  events  which  do  not  come  immediately  under 
the  influence  and  government  of  those  spontaneous 
agents  which  have  their  seat  in  the  invisible  world. 
Not  thus  is  it  with  the  activities  of  mind.  Take  the 
same  person,  make  external  conditions  as  exactly 
alike  as  possible,  and  you  do  not  secure  at  different 
times  the  same  succession  of  internal  states,  nor  any 
obvious  approximation  to  it.  A  prisoner,  within  the 
narrow  walls  of  his  cell,  with  differences  of  external 
condition  very  trifling,  differences  that  find  and  leave 
the  body  in  a  state  almost  identical,  day  by  day,  may, 
in  successive  days,  present  very  diverse  states  of 
mind,  and  show  no  two  periods  in  which  the  round  of 
thought  and  feeling  is,  for  any  considerable  time,  ihe 
same.  The  mechanical  precision,  order  and  period 
of  physical  phenomena  are  all  gone,  and  in  place  of 
them  there  are  fitfulness,  irregularity,  every  species 
of  inequality.  We  explain  this  by  the  notion  of  the 
spontaneity  of  mind.  It  is  not  a  measured  force, 
gauged  to  certain  facts,  but  from  itself,  and  of  itself, 
with  fitful  efficiency,  evokes  its  thoughts  and  feel- 
ings. 


1 88  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

Again,  this  is  seen  in  the  contrast  between  sensa- 
tions and  thoughts.  The  one  are  determinate,  obey 
perfectly  a  law  of  sequence.  We  see  and  feel  what 
are  within  the  reach  of  the  eye  and  hand,  and  can 
see  and  feel  nothing  else.  Iron  is  never  soft  to  us, 
or  velvet  hard.  The  sensations  are  the  same  in  form 
and  order  under  like  external  conditions.  The  mind 
from  within  itself  has  no  power  of  varying  them. 
This  fact  finds  explanation  in  the  entrance  from  with- 
out of  true  causation,  and  this  causation  stands,  in  the 
phenomena  it  occasions,  distinguished  from,  and  in 
contrast  with,  the  pure  activity  of  the  mind.  We  do 
have  the  two  classes  of  facts  in  our  own  intellectual 
experience,  and  find  them  so  diverse,  that  the  mind, 
for  this  reason,  refers  the  one  set — to  wit,  sensations 
— to  outside,  fixed  forces  ;  and  the  other  set — to 
wit,  thoughts — to  inside,  native,  spontaneous  power. 
The  classification  of  mental  phenomena  turns  on 
this  very  distinction  between  fixed  and  variable  facts  ; 
causal  and  spontaneous  force.  The  first  carries 
with  it  all  experiences  physical  in  their  origin ;  the 
other,  all  purely  mental.  Break  down  this  distinc- 
tion, and  sensations  and  feelings  are  inseparable. 
AJ1  do  so  divide  them,  and  in  the  division  recognize 
spontaneous  forces  and  causal  forces. 

Once  more,  observe  the  connections  of  mental 
acts,  and  see  how  these  disclose  their  spontaneous 
character.  Take  thought ;  for  instance,  the  succes- 
sive steps  of  thinking  involved  in  a  theorem  of 
Geometry.  Is  there  any  adhesion  between  one  item 
of  proof  and  the  next ;  any  link  of  force,  compelling 
the  mind  to  pass  through  the  successive  stages  of 


LIBERTY.  189 

the  argument  ?  If  there  is,  how  happens  it  that  all 
minds  do  not  run  alike  through  the  entire  circuit  of 
proof,  as  all  sleds  slide  down  hill  ?  Is  it  not  plain 
that  mind  itself  as  mind,  as  rational  power  of  a  given 
grade,  sees,  evokes  spontaneously  the  serial  conclu- 
sions, compacts  them,  and  carries  them  on  to  the 
goal  of  the  reasoning.  There  is  no  external,  no  in- 
dependent force,  in  the  first  half  of  a  proposition,  to 
call  forth  the  last.  The  connection  between  the  two 
halves  lies  in  the  mind  itself,  and  that,  too,  in  its  vari- 
able, spontaneous  power,  which  it  may  or  may  not  put 
forth.  What  is  attention  but  a  calling  out,  by  the  mind 
itself,  of  its  activity,  and  thus  a  clear  disclosure  of  the 
variable  force  which  is  in  it.  So,  too,  the  feelings  are 
a  changeable  response  of  the  mind  to  certain  percep- 
tions or  intellectual  states,  and  these  states,  though 
conditions  of  this  emotional  activity,  are  plainly  not 
causes  of  it,  do  not  create  it  in  kind  and  quantity. 

If  it  now  be  granted  that  physical  phenomena  are 
fixed,  and  mental  phenomena  variable,  showing  slight 
dependence  on  external  conditions  ;  that  the  se- 
quence, in  the  one  instance,  flows  firmly  on  to  its 
completion,  and,  in  the  other,  suffers  constant  arrest 
and  change ;  then  these  become  the  accepted  data 
on  which  we  predicate,  in  the  one  case  a  connection 
through  a  fixed  cause,  or  causation  ;  in  the  other,  a 
connection  through  a  variable  power,  or  spontaneity. 
A  power  that  is  variable  within  itself,  is  shown  by 
its  variability  to  be  self-originating ;  since  it  so  far 
assigns  itself  its  own  conditions,  calls  itself  forth. 
A  fixed  force  is  a  dependent,  originated  force,  as  the 
conditions,   the   limits   that   are   assigned  it,  up  tc 


190  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

which  it  is  brought,  within  which  it  is  compressed, 
are  received  from  abroad.  No  one,  indeed,  can  con- 
dition, can  assign  limits  to  a  force,  who  cannot  in- 
crease and  diminish  that  force  ;  who  cannot  put 
himself  into  and  under  it.  And  in  assigning  it 
limits,  he  actually  does  put  himself  into  it  and  un- 
der it.  Variability,  then,  the  ability  to  increase  and 
diminish  action — the  constant  characteristic  of  the 
mind — has  its  seat  in  spontaneity,  power ;  invaria- 
bility, the  inability  to  increase  or  diminish  action, 
has  its  seat  in  causation,  force :  and  these  two  con- 
ceptions must  be  kept  forever  apart,  and  the  more  so, 
since  they  are  blended  in  us  through  our  physical 
and  spiritual  constitutions,  the  interwoven  parts  of 
one  fabric,  or  being. 

We  have  not  yet  reached  liberty,  though  we  have 
taken  a  long  stride  toward  it.  If  pure  mental  action 
is  spontaneous,  it  is  easy  to  believe  that  a  portion  of 
that  action  is  free  ;  that  is,  takes  place  in  view  of  two 
distinct  lines  of  conduct,  either  of  which  is  equally 
open  to  it.  Liberty  is  more  than  spontaneity  in  this, 
that  it  is  the  power  of  spontaneity  consciously  em- 
ployed in  a  choice  between  two  actions.  Spontaneity 
finds  exercise  in  thought,  expends  itself  therein  ;  but 
in  choice,  the  mind  first  arrests  its  action,  observes 
the  ground  before  it,  and  then  consciously,  distinctly, 
redirects  itself.  This  is  liberty — a  use  of  spontaneity 
under  definitely  realized  conditions,  involving  an  al- 
ternative. If  the  mind  were  not  spontaneous  in  all 
of  its  action,  it  could  not  be  free  in  any  of  it ;  or  at 
least,  if  it  had  not  spontaneous  power  to  employ,  it 
could  not  make  this  exact  use  of  it  known  as  liberty. 


LIBERTY.  I9I 

Liberty  involves  spontaneity,  the  ability  to  originate 
power,  and  is  the  exercise  of  it  in  view  of  an  alterna- 
tive, both  branches  of  which  are  perfectly  open  to  it. 
The  necessitarian  says,  the  mind,  the  will,  is,  under 
these  circumstances  conditioned  to  a  certain  act,  to 
one  only  of  the  acts  under  consideration,  by  the  con- 
joint effect  of  its  own  constitution,  and  the  influences 
to  which  it  is  subject ;  that  is  to  say,  the  force  to  be 
expended  by  it  is  a  causal  one,  established  and  fixed 
in  its  measure  and  form  of  being.  Says  the  liberta- 
rian, the  force  conceived  is  spontaneous  power,  neither 
conditioned  in  itself,  nor  out  of  itself  to  fixed  results. 
What  is  the  proof  of  liberty  ?  Many  strive  to  de- 
rive it  from  consciousness.  Herein,  we  think,  they 
err.  All  that  can  be  truly  referred  to  consciousness, 
will  hardly,  under  any  circumstances,  become  a  mat- 
ter of  discussion.  We  are,  indeed,  capable  of  great 
prevarication,  and  can  surround  almost  any  subject 
with  uncertainty,  but  scarcely  of  denying  the  very 
thing  that  is  in  the  mind  itself.  If  liberty  were  a 
fact  of  mind,  it  would,  no  more  than  thought,  or  feel- 
ing, or  volition,  be  open  to  doubt.  Liberty  is  not  a 
phenomenon,  but  the  alleged  nature  of  a  certain 
class  of  phenomena.  It  is  the  relations  of  the  mind's 
acts  to  the  mind's  power,  that  is  under  discussion  ; 
and  this  sub-phenomenal  connection  never  appears 
in  consciousness,  but  is  decided  on  as  to  its  existence 
■  and  character  by  the  mind  alone.  Now  the  mind 
brings  forward  certain  ideas  to  the  explanation  of  a 
certain  class  of  facts,  and  these  ideas  have  no  other 
authority  than  this  persistent  assertion  of  them  by 
the  mind.     Herein,  they  all  rest  finally  on  the  same 


I92  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

basis  with  each  other,  and  also  on  the  same  basis 
with  every  belief.  Knowledge  being  only  referable 
to  reiterated  affirmations  of  mind. 

What  are  the  facts,  then,  in  view  of  which  spon- 
taneity, liberty  are  asserted,  are  proffered  in  elucida- 
tion ?  They  are,  first,  the  variable,  changeable  actions 
of  men.  Human  conduct  presents  no  such  sequence 
as  to  suggest  to  us  the  notion  of  the  invariable  law  of 
causation,  but,  in  our  language  one  to  another,  in  our 
claims  one  of  another,  in  an  assertion  of  our  own 
power,  in  forecasting  the  results  of  conduct,  we  rec- 
ognize the  idea  of  liberty,  and  constantly  imply  or 
directly  affirm  its  existence.  So  true  is  this,  that  no 
theory  of  necessity  ever  prevents  men,  in  cases  of 
personal  interest,  from  treating  others  as  if  they  were 
free ;  as  if  they  had  other  lines  of  power  in  them 
than  those  of  barren,  blind  causation.  All  anger, 
indignation,  contempt,  are  as  ill-timed  as  passion 
toward  a  brute,  if  this  notion  of  liberty  be  invalid. 
Whatever  may  be  said  of  the  thoughts  of  men,  their 
emotions  are  all  based  on  liberty,  are  brutish  and 
maniacal  without  it. 

Again,  the  great  fact,  the  all-inclusive  fact  in  hu- 
man society  of  responsibility,  calls  forth  this  notion 
of  liberty  as  its  only  explanation.  There  is  no  axiom 
in  morals,  nor  indeed  anywhere,  if  this  is  not  one ; 
responsibility  is  proportioned  to  power.  No  one  can 
claim  either  of  two  forms  of  conduct  from  his  fellows, 
unless  they  have  the  power  to  enter  upon  either  at 
their  option.  Here,  indeed,  is  the  grand  occasion  of 
freedom.  The  moral  law  as  antecedent  to  action,  laid 
upon  it  as  an  imperative,  is  irrational  and   unjust 


LIBERTY.  I93 

without  the  ability  to  obey  it.  If  the  mind,  in  each 
case,  is  still  conditioned  to  its  own  state  and  circum- 
stances, then  guilt,  responsibility,  duty,  are  not  per- 
tinent conceptions,  since  these  all  require  sufficient 
power  to  do  the  obligatory  act.  I  know  very  well 
that  the  necessitarian  has  a  meaning  for  these  words, 
and  a  form  of  their  application.  What  I  affirm  is, 
that  he  does  not  reach  and  explain  their  full  signifi- 
cance in  the  popular,  the  general,  mind.  It  is  ex- 
actly this  more  profound  feeling  which  underlies  the 
word,  guilt,  resting  back  on  a  belief  in  the  complete 
power  of  the  guilty  party  to  have  adopted  an  adverse 
line  of  action,  that  is  always  fighting  against  the  phi- 
losophy of  necessity,  and  preventing  its  universal 
acceptance.  If  that  philosophy  were  correct,  it  would 
never  have  been  offered  but  once  to  men.  They 
would  have  leaped  to  its  conclusions.  It  is  a  secret 
sense  of  its  insufficiency  to  account  for  obligation,  to 
cover  the  deeper  moral  phenomena  of  our  nature, 
that  holds  men  back  from  it,  and,  when  they  have 
nominally  conceded  its  truth,  allows  them  to  make 
claims  and  impose  duties,  in  language  and  form,  in- 
consistent with  it.  Lay  aside  all  the  confusion  of 
philosophy,  appeal  directly  to  the  moral  judgments 
of  men,  their  first  spontaneous  conviction,  and  the 
libertarian  carries  the  argument,  men  assent  to,  and 
assert,  liberty  as  the  ground  and  basis  of  morality. 
So  true  is  this,  that  every  necessitarian  steals  his  lan- 
guage, as  far  as  possible,  from  the  vocabulary  of  lib- 
erty ;  warps  the  enunciation  of  his  doctrine  over 
toward  the  popular  sentiment,  and  strives  to  affirm 
and  deny  necessity  in  the  same  breath.     Thus,  we 


194  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

hear  of  a  moral  necessity,  and  a  physical  necessity,  as 
if  there  were  two  kinds  of  necessity,  and  one  at  least  a 
trifle  less  necessary  than  the  other.  Liberty  is  turned 
into  pantomine,  a  mere  show  of  powers  ;  yet  the  pan- 
tonine is  patiently  played  out  to  delight  and  pacify 
the  populace.  The  deity  has  been  stolen  from  her 
seat,  but  the  worship  goes  on,  for  no  one  dares  to  con- 
fess or  proclaim  the  sacrilege.  Thus  tyrants  maintain 
forms  whose  force  and  import  they  have  abolished. 

A  third  proof,  we  find  in  the  nature  of  motives. 
If  a  thought,  not  yet  before  the  mind,  has  no  hold 
upon  it,  by  which  the  intellect  is  constrained  to  think 
it ;  if  thought  is  rather  the  spontaneous  power  and 
pursuit  by  the  mind  of  its  own  ends,  readily  may  we 
accept  a  like  connection  between  its  other  states. 
In  which  way  ought  we  to  conceive  an  object  like 
wealth  ?  As  possessed  of  an  efficient  force  by  which 
it  acts  on  the  mind  and  draws  it  to  itself?  or,  as  giv- 
ing the  direction  in  which  the  spontaneous  power  of 
the  soul  goes  forth  ?  Is  a  desire  occasioned,  caused 
in  the  soul  by  the  coveted  object,  as  heat  awakens 
molecular  motion  in  matter ;  or  is  a  desire  the  self- 
originated  activity  of  the  soul  toward  certain  things  ? 
Plainly,  the  latter.  There  is  nothing  whatever  to 
justify  the  opposite  conception  of  an  efficient  force 
in  objects  of  desire,  acting  on  the  mind.  Neither  is 
there  any  more  proof  of  a  force  in  the  desire  by 
i  which  it  occasions  and  necessitates  a  volition.  The 
volition  follows,  or  fails  to  follow,  according  to  the 
external  possibilities  of  the  case,  and  the  present  di- 
rection of  the  soul's  spontaneity.  The  desire  itself, 
as  a  portion  of  that  spontaneity,  is  dependent  upon 


LIBERTY.  195 

it,  and  this  portion  evinces  no  power  to  control  the 
remainder  ;  to  involve  and  constrain  by  its  own  force 
a  certain  amount  of  executive  force,  directed  in  a 
compulsory  pursuit  of  the  object.  All  such  concep- 
tions are  alien  to  the  mind,  and  will  not  bear  exam- 
ination. A  cause,  always  the  source,  and  exclusively 
the  source  of  necessity  in  events,  precedes  and  im- 
mediately accompanies  the  effect,  and  pours  into  that 
effect  a  fixed  amount  of  force :  a  motive,  or  at  least 
the  gratification  proposed  in  action,  follows  the  action, 
and  suffers  the  power  the  soul  pours  forth,  rather 
than  is  the  source  of  it.  No  relations  can  be  more 
distinct  than  these  two,  that  between  a  cause  and 
effect,  the  one  in  and  back  of  the  other  ;  and  that 
between  an  object  of  pursuit  and  the  mind's  activ- 
ities, directed  towards  it.  Now  if  the  object  does 
not,  by  an  efficiency  of  its  own,  cause  the  desire,  nor 
yet  the  desire  cause  the  volition,  then  there  is  no 
line  of  force  from  without,  inward,  but  only  one  from 
within,  outward.  Yet,  there  is  no  liberty  in  the  or- 
dinary gratification  of  a  single  desire,  because  the 
spontaneity  of  the  soul  has  no  alternative  ;  it  is  shut 
up  to  this  single  direction.  When,  however,  it  is 
consciously  placed  between  two  forms  of  expenditure, 
there  is  an  opportunity  for  a  choice,  and  in  this 
choice,  to  be  finally  explained  by  the  spontaneity  of 
the  soul,  there  is  found  freedom. 

There  is  no  proper  choice  between  things  of  the 
same  kind.  Two  gratifications,  if  they  are  alike, 
leave  the  mind  indifferent  between  them  ;  if  one  is  in- 
ferior to  the  other,  it  presents  no  alternative.  There 
is  the  semblance  of  liberty,  but  not  real  liberty,  in  a 


I96  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

choice  between  two  and  four  hours  of  pleasure,  since 
there  is  only  an  apparent,  not  a  real  alternative. 
The  mind  is  not  irrational  and  absurd  because  it  is 
spontaneous,  and  its  liberty  is  present  to  open  the 
way  to  wise  action,  not  to  preposterous  action.  Lib- 
erty, spontaneous  power,  is  not  exercised  by  the  soul 
in  flat  contradiction  of  its  reason,  because  it  may  be 
so  exercised,  and  therefore,  a  fallacious,  deceptive  al- 
ternative, is  to  it  no  real  alternative.  Coins,  marked 
to  the  senses  one  and  four  dollars,  give  no  play  to 
liberty,  any  more  than  the  possibility  of  walking  on 
one's  hands,  makes  this,  in  contrast  with  walking  on 
one's  feet,  a  matter  of  choice.  Is  there,  then,  in  hu- 
man action  any  real  alternative,  or  is  liberty,  after 
all,  a  dormant  power  through  the  want  of  an  oppor- 
tunity for  its  exercise  ?  If  all  enjoyments  can  be 
brought  to  one  grade  or  standard,  and  measured 
thereon  as  greater  or  less,  then  liberty  disappears, 
since  we  have  only  in  each  case  to  bring  forward  our 
rule,  to  decide  by  it  the  question  of  degrees,  and  forth- 
with all  liberty  becomes  irrational,  absurd.  Indeed? 
such  would  be  the  results  of  utilitarianism,  resolving 
all  actions  into  a  pursuit  of  pleasure,  and  bringing 
pleasures,  for  a  test,  to  the  sensibilities  to  be  played 
on  by  them. 

Our  moral  nature,  however,  gives  a  true  alterna- 
tive to  the  mind.  Conscience  both  renders  liberty 
necessary,  that  its  law  may  be  obeyed  ;  and  possible, 
by  giving  a  new,  a  diverse,  a  truly  independent  line 
of  action  to  the  soul.  The  spontaneity  of  the  soul 
finds  the  play  known  as  choice,  as  freedom,  through 
the  moral  nature.     The  rewards  of  right  action  can 


LIBERTY.  197 

be  brought  in  comparison  with  the  appetites  and  pas- 
sions to  no  common  scale  of  pleasures,  and  graded 
thereon  as  greater  or  less.  Duty  frequently  fails  to 
present  itself  as  pleasurable,  and  yet  remains  in  its 
full  force,  and  the  pleasure  which  is  to  follow  from 
obedience  is  not  the  very  motive  of  obedience.  Any 
weighing  of  obligation,  with  enjoyments,  of  moral  sat- 
isfaction with  appetitive  indulgence,  can  only  reveal 
the  disparity  of,  the  unlikeness  of,  the  two,  and  leave 
us  still  constrained  to  choose  between  them.  Here, 
then,  in  this  essential  diversity  of  motives,  which 
come  in,  on  the  one  side  from  the  physical,  and  on 
the  other  from  the  spiritual,  world,  we  find  ground 
and  occasion  for  liberty,  for  a  spontaneity  that  may 
go  forth  either  way  ;  that  may  strike  downward  or 
upward  in  radical  or  plumule  as  it  pleases.  The 
grounds,  both  for  the  direction  and  the  degree  of  the 
activity  are  found  in  itself.  In  these  two  facts,  there- 
fore, that  motives  have  no  efficient  force,  and  that 
there  is  a  real,  not  an  apparent,  diversity  among 
them,  we  find  the  conditions,  first  of  spontaneity, 
second  of  liberty. 

Again,  we  argue  freedom  from  the  inadequate  state- 
ment of  the  facts,  to  which  the  doctrine  of  necessity 
leads.  There  is  no  more  decisive  proof  against  a 
theory,  than  that  it  tends  to  a  disguisement  and  per- 
version of  the  facts  ;  that  it  puts  in  circulation  a  clip- 
ped and  fradulent  currency.  Of  this  we  can  give  but 
a  single  illustration.  Both  Bain  and  Mill  make  the 
notion  of  responsibility  commensurate  with,  perfectly 
equivalent  to,  the  notion  of  punishability.  Says  Mill, 
"  Responsibility  means  punishment,"  and  punishment 


I98  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

he  regards  as  just  because  it  stands  in  the  relation  of 
a  means  to  an  end  ;  exactly  as  whipping  a  horse  is 
allowable,  if  it  is  really  a  condition  of  safety,  and 
advantage  to  those  who  drive  him.  To  establish  my 
assertion  that  the  necessitarian  perverts  moral  facts 
in  their  statement,  two  things  are  in  this  example 
necessary :  first,  to  show,  that,  with  him,  responsi- 
bility and  punishability  are  equivalent ;  second,  that 
they  are  not  so  equivalent.  If  the  motive  controls 
the  mind,  reasons  the  necessitarian,  then  the  mind 
can,  under  given  motives,  do  no  otherwise  than  it 
does  do.  Yet  it  is  right  to  punish  the  person  who 
does  wrong,  because  the  punishment  itself  becomes 
a  motive,  alters  the  relation  of  motives,  restores  the 
moral  equilibrium  of  action,  and  protects  both  the 
man  and  society  from  the  wrong  bias  which  had 
seized  him.  Hence,  responsibility  and  punishability 
mean  the  same  thing,  since  in  saying  that  the  man 
is  responsible,  we  only  mean  to  say,  that  it  would 
be  right  to  punish  him  ;  in  no  other  sense  is  he  re- 
sponsible. Is  not  the  second  point  now  also  plain, 
that  this  use  of  the  words,  responsible,  responsibil- 
ity, emasculates  them,  causes  them  to  fall  like  light- 
ning from  heaven  ?  When  we  say  that  a  man  is 
responsible,  we  mean  to  affirm  a  profound  moral 
truth,  and  may  not  have  in  the  mind's  eye  any  notion 
of  punishment  whatever.  Moreover,  the  nature  of 
punishment  itself  is  greatly  modified  by  this  view. 
We  are  willing  to  accept  the  theory,  that  punish- 
ment is  inflicted  solely  for  the  discipline  of  the  per- 
son and  the  protection  of  the  community,  but  this 
does  not  alter  the  fact,  that  it  has  a  fitness,  an  emo- 


LIBERTY.  I99 

tional  basis  in  the  guilt  of  the  party  who  has  called 
it  forth.  We  may  confine  a  lunatic,  but  the  trans- 
action has  a  moral  character  totally  different  from 
that  of  the  imprisonment  of  a  murderer.  With  Mill, 
punishment  and  responsibility  both  sink  down  to 
a  purely  animal  basis.  A  beast  is  punishable  and 
responsible  in  the  same  sense  that  man  is,  since,  like 
man,  it  can  be  restrained  by  judiciously  inflicted  pain, 
and  may  be  dangerous  without  it.  When  logical 
thinkers,  like  Bain  and  Mill,  exhaust  the  moral  world 
of  all  significancy,  so  banish  from  it  its  own  pecu- 
liar aroma,  and  leave  it  in  the  statement,  the  ex- 
hausted refuse  of  itself,  waste -matter  whose  essence 
has  all  been  distilled  and  pressed  away,  we  may  well 
distrust  the  correctness  of  their  initial  idea.  Ethical 
phenomena  are  often  treated  with  the  same  wisdom 
of  method  as  would  belong  to  a  chemist,  if  he  should 
first  drive  off  a  volatile  gas  by  heat,  and  then  deny 
its  existence,  because  the  residuum  did  not  disclose 
it.  The  subtle  substance  of  morals  is  made  to  effer- 
vesce in  the  heat  of  analysis,  and  the  coarse  remainder 
of  action  is  then  easily  explained  by  ordinary  motives.* 
We  cannot  leave  this  notion  of  liberty,  resting  on 
the  foundations  now  laid  for  it,  without  answering 
the  most  urgent  and  pregnant  of  the  objections  which 
have  been  brought  against  it.  Physicists  have,  in 
turn,  battered  it  and  passed  it  by  in  scorn  ;  and  the 
stones  they  now  cast,  they  fling  in  the  spirit  of  the 
Israelites  of  old,  who,  in  the  same  act,  made  a  tomb 
and  built  a  monument  for  their  victim.  The  first  of 
these  objections  comes  out  of  the  very  heart  of  science. 
It  is  her  bitter  rejection  of  that  which  she  can  make 


200  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

nothing  of.  The  objection  is  this  :  liberty  is  equiva- 
lent to  fortuity  ;  a  free  action  is  one  without  a  cause, 
and,  therefore,  without  ground  and  government. 
Science  eschews  nothing  so  much  as  that  which  is 
not  amenable  to  causes,  since  the  physical  province 
is  her  kingdom,  and  causes  are  her  subjects.  All 
that  escapes  a  fixed  law,  emancipates  itself  from  her 
control,  and  sets  up  a  rival,  not  to  say  a  hostile  and 
disturbing,  authority.  The  answer  to  this  objection 
is  simple :  the  mind  is  indeed  not  a  cause,  nor  is 
the  motive  a  cause,  nor  is  the  choice  an  effect.  All 
the  phenomena  within  the  mental  field  are  sponta- 
neous, and  causation  does  not  take  part  in  the  trans- 
action till  a  definite  physical  force  is  somewhere  real- 
ized through  the  intervention  of  our  physical  struct- 
ure. It  does  not  hence  follow,  that  all  is  accident 
and  chance,  because  it  is  not  fixed  and  fastened  by 
force.  The  mind  is,  though  a  spontaneous  power,  a 
rational  power  ;  and  though  the  conclusion  of  a  proof 
does  not  make  the  premises,  nor  the  premises  cause 
the  conclusion,  they  are  nevertheless  interlocked  in 
an  orderly,  sufficient  way.  Motives  are  grounds  and 
occasions  of  action  without  being  its  causes  ;  and  the 
mind  is  not  fortuitous  in  its  pursuit,  because  that  pur- 
suit is  an  expenditure  of  its  own  power.  It  is  not 
an  accidental  arrangement  under  which  certain  things 
call  forth  desire,  and  others  do  not.  Neither  is  it 
the  result  of  fortuity,  that  the  volition  is  confined  to 
two  lines  of  action  ;  nor  yet  of  chance,  but  of  choice, 
that  the  mind  accepts  one  in  preference  to  the  other. 
Indeed,  here  is  the  gist  of  the  matter.  Can  there  be 
action  which  is  not  conditioned  by  that  which  is  out  of 


LIBERTY.  201 

itself,  nor  controlled  by  conditions  previously  placed 
within  itself,  that  is  not  fortuitous  action  ?  We  an- 
swer, Yes.  For  if  not,  creation  is  impossible,  since 
creation  is  not  a  transfer  and  change  of  force,  but  a 
bringing  of  force,  conditions  and  all  into  being.  God 
is  not  conditioned  from  without,  neither  from  within 
by  any  prior  action  other  than  his  own,  but  he  does 
give  an  orderly,  rational  origin  to  force.  The  human 
mind,  therefore,  may  do  the  same  thing,  so  far  as  for- 
tuity is  concerned,  and  its  activity  need  not  be  causal 
in  order  to  be  consequential  and  rational. 

There  must  be  a  limit  to  the  conditioned  somewhere, 
beyond  which  it  passes  into  the  free,  the  spontaneous, 
the  unconditioned.  Either  the  universe  as  a  whole 
is  conditioned  from  within,  self-conditioned,  or  con- 
ditioned from  without.  If  from  without,  then  we  do 
reach  personal,  spontaneous,  power ;  if  from  within, 
then  we  assign  to  matter  as  a  whole  what  we  have 
refused  to  concede  to  mind,  and  make  it  a  self-condi- 
tioned existence.  This  is  more  than  once,  the  spu- 
rious result  of  philosophy.  What  it  has  refused  to 
grant  to  mind  as  incredible,  it,  at  length,  allows  to 
matter ;  in  the  face  of  experience,  freely  conceding  to 
the  weaker  what  it  could  not  find,  and  would  not 
endure  in  the  stronger.  Thus  it  is  deemed  more 
rational  that  matter  should  condition  itself  from  all 
eternity,  than  that  it  should  be  conditioned  by  God  ; 
that  order,  thought,  complex  and  complete  relations 
should  flow  forth  from  a  material  source,  than  that 
they  should  be  referred  to  a  spiritual  one.  What  is 
this  but  denying  spirituality  to  mind  to  restore  it 
again  as  a  quality  in  matter  ? 


202  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

A  second  allied  objection  is,  that  liberty  gives  no 
weight  to  motives.  This  we  allow,  if  by  weight  is 
meant  an  efficient  force  by  which  they  act  on  the 
mind.  The  mind  moves  toward  them,  springs  up  in 
power  in  reference  to  them,  but  can,  on  grounds 
given,  reasons  rendered,  increase  or  withhold  that 
power,  an  unconditioned  power  as  regards  the  circle 
of  circumstances  under  which  it  arises.  The  entire 
vocabulary  of  the  necessitarian  is  at  fault.  It  is  fig- 
urative language  which  he  insists  in  employing  in  a 
literal  sense.  He  speaks  of  motives  as  greater  or 
less,  implying  different  degrees  of  efficiency  in  them  ; 
whereas,  the  whole  idea  of  force,  in  connection  with 
inducements  to  action,  is  a  transferred  one,  comes 
from  the  physical  world,  and  cannot  be  carried  over 
to  mind  with  definite  estimates,  with  weights  and 
measures,  with  a  registration  of  intensities.  All 
that  can  be  understood  in  this  connection  by  the 
words  greater  and  less,  is  the  varying  power  of  the 
mind's  spontaneous  activity  toward  the  motives  ;  and 
if  there  is  no  other  way  of  measuring  motives,  as 
greater  and  less,  than  this  of  the  mind's  response  to 
them,  then  we  reason  in  a  circuit,  when  we  say,  that 
the  mind  always  obeys  the  strongest  motive,  having 
no  ground  to  call  it  the  strongest  except  the  mere 
fact  that  the  mind  does  yield  to  it.  The  statement 
of  the  necessitarian  would  be,  the  motive,  the  ex- 
ternal object,  occasions,  causes,  a  certain  play  of  feel- 
ing, this  feeling,  according  to  its  degree,  occasions, 
causes  a  certain  volition,  and  the  volition  is  thus 
conditioned  to  the  motive.  Our  first  answer  is,  the 
motive  has  no  power  over  the  feeling,  but  the  feeling 


LIBERTY.  203 

is  spontaneous  under  the  motive,  hence  this  is  not 
a  connection  of  necessity  ;  and  further,  that  the  con- 
nection between  the  feeling  and  volition  is  also  a 
spontaneous  one,  and,  if  there  are  two  or  more  direc- 
tions of  action,  the  mind  is  conditioned  to  no  one  of 
them,  and  is  free  to  a  choice  between  them.  A  sec- 
ond answer  is,  the  necessitarian  has  no  way  of  meas- 
uring motives  unlike  in  kind  except  through  the 
feelings  called  forth,  and  as  these  feelings  are  also 
unlike,  no  method  except  the  fact  of  a  resultant  vol- 
ition. But  to  affirm,  in  one  breath,  that  the  will  is 
governed  by  the  strongest  motive,  and  in  the  next 
that  that  motive  is  the  strongest  which  governs  the 
will,  is  to  reason  in  a  circle.  "  Nay,"  says  Mr.  Mill. 
"  If  there  were  no  test  of  the  strength  of  motives  but 
their  effect  on  the  will,  the  proposition,  that  the  will 
follows  the  strongest  motive,  is  not  identical,  and  un- 
meaning. We  say,  without  absurdity,  that  if  two 
weights  are  placed  in  opposite  scales,  the  heavier 
will  lift  the  other  up  ;  yet  we  mean  nothing  by  the 
heavier,  except  the  weight  that  will  lift  up  the  other." 
•Hold  here.  Mr.  Mill  has  hit  on  the  best  possible 
comparison  for  his  purpose,  and  if  it  is  applicable,  we 
concede  him  his  ground.  In  the  first  place,  we  deny 
the  statement,  that  we  have  no  other  measure  of 
weight  than  this  one  form  of  experiment  affords. 
Each  weight  may  be  used  in  a  system  of  pullies,  or 
with  a  coiled  spring,  and  show  in  both  the  same 
grade  of  force  ;  more  satisfactorily,  each  exhibits  the 
inertia  and  the  momentum  due  to  their  respective 
weights,  and  this  is  an  independent  measure  of  the 
amount  of  matter  in  them.     Fling  into  one  pan  of 


204  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

the  scales,  the  tack-hammer,  and  the  sledge-hammer 
into  the  other ;  now  take  them  out  and  strike  with 
them,  and  you  have  an  independent  confirmation  of 
the  first  conclusion.  The  one  has  more  matter  than 
the  other  ;  this  it  reveals  in  its  momentum. 

In  the  second  place,  we  deny  the  existence  of  suffi- 
cient resemblance  in  the  two  cases.     Each  weight  is 
known  beyond  all  doubt,  and  every  material  circum- 
stance concerning  it  is  known  ;  our  antecedents  and 
consequents  are  thus  fixed,  and  the  same  movement 
always  follows  the  presence  of  the  weights.     In  the 
case  of  any  volition,  and  still  more  in  the  majority  of 
volitions,  we  fail  to  know  perfectly  that  which  makes 
up  motive  ;  and  the  action  which  follows  often  varies, 
and  is  not  unfrequently  entirely  changed.     Suppose 
our  two  weights,  the  same  to  the  eye,  should  alter 
from  day  to  day  under  comparison,  and  that  this  state 
of  things,  as  regards  the  weight  of  all  bodies,  should 
repeat  itself  with  unending  irregularity,  and  it  should 
then  be  affirmed  and  assumed  that  the  heavier  body 
always  did  bring  down  the  scale,  and  that  the  varia- 
bility was  due  to  some  subtle  evaporations  or  absorp- 
tions of  substances  of  which  we  seemed  to  get  a 
glimpse,  but   had   no    sufficient   measurement,  how 
would  the  proof  for  the  assertion  then  stand  ?     Evi- 
dently, it  would  have  disappeared.     Now  this  is  the 
case  with  motives.      Motives  that  seem  to  be  the 
same  are  inferred  to  be  different,  if  the  action  varies  ; 
and  those  that  seem  unlike,  are  regarded  as  like,  if 
the  action  is  the  same.     That  is,  our  motives  are  not, 
like  weights,  distinct  and  undeniable :  but  we  regard 
them  now  in  this  light,  now  in  that,  according  to  the 


LIBERTY.  205 

conduct  that  follows  them.  Again,  if  we  knew  of  two 
weights,  only  the  single  fact,  that  when  placed  in  the 
scales  one  predominates,  that  is  all  that  we  should  be 
at  liberty  to  affirm,  and  could  not  add,  there  is  more 
efficiency  or  force  in  this  than  in  that,  till  by  further 
and  varied  experiments,  we  had  determined  this  re- 
sult to  be  due  to  efficiency  or  force.  The  less  weight 
may,  in  some  situations,  raise  the  greater ;  that  a 
scale-pan  is  not  one  of  them,  is  to  be  shown  by  varied 
as  well  as  by  repeated  trials.  Evidently,  if  liberty 
did  exist,  the  will  must  still  follow  some  motive,  and 
if  this  motive  was  shown  by  that  mere  fact  to  be  the 
stronger  motive,  we  should  then  reach  the  absurd 
conclusion,  that  liberty,  in  its  exercise,  proves  itself, 
must  prove  itself,  to  be  necessity :  that  is,  a  manifes- 
tation, hence  a  proof,  of  liberty  is  impossible.  This 
entire  notion  of  the  influence  and  force  of  motives 
comes  from  causation,  is  impertinent  to  the  depart- 
ment of  mind,  and  has  no  other  ground  or  reason 
than  the  obstinacy  with  which  we  transfer  the  facts 
of  one  field  by  analogy  to  another.  Liberty  has  the 
same  independent  basis  in  the  mind  as  causation, 
and  though  the  latter  notion,  now  so  assiduously  de- 
veloped in  science,  is  constantly  finding  its  way  into 
philosophy,  it  is  just  as  much  an  intrusion  and  mis- 
take there,  as  was  formerly  the  notion  of  spontaneity, 
when  brought  from  mind  to  matter  to  the  detriment 
and  oversight  of  its  fixed  laws.  This  subtle  intrusion 
of  causation  is  the  ever-returning  occasion  of  diffi- 
culty. Says  Hamilton,  "  It  is  of  no  consequence  in 
the  argument,  whether  motives  be  said  to  determine 
a  man  to  act,  or  to  influence  (that  is  to  determine) 


206  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

him  to  determine  himself  to  act."  Mill,  in  admira- 
tion, exclaims,  "  This  is  one  of  the  neatest  specimens 
in  our  author's  writings  of  a  fallacy  cut  clean  through 
by  a  single  stroke."  But  the  whole  force  of  the 
thrust  is  dependent  on  the  substitution  of  the  word 
determine  for  the  word  influence.  If  to  say  a  motive 
influences,  and  a  motive  determines,  an  act  are  not 
equivalent,  the  boasted  blow  is  a  mere  flourish  in  the 
air.  Now,  to  influence  and  to  determine  are  equiva- 
lent only  on  the  grounds  of  causation,  of  a  like  effi- 
ciency of  force  covered  by  the  two  words.  It  was 
only  because  of  this  physical  meaning  which  adhered 
to  the  word  influence  in  the  minds  of  Hamilton  and 
Mill,  that  they  were  able,  with  such  craft  and  glee,  to 
creep  through  it  into  that  second  word,  determine, 
and,  by  thus  evading  the  outworks  of  liberty,  steal 
into  its  citadel  and  strike  down  the  flag.  Do  the 
motives  determine  the  mind's  action  ?  remains,  under 
this  double  phraseology,  as  before,  the  entire  ques- 
tion. 

A  last  objection  to  the  doctrine  of  liberty  comes 
from  another  quarter.  It  is  that  it  interferes  with 
the  foreknowledge  of  God.  We  suppose  liberty  does 
contemplate  more  power  in  man  than  would  necessity, 
and,  therefore,  that  it  calls  for  more  skill  in  his  Ruler. 
When  a  choice  is  given,  a  veritable  choice  between 
two  actions,  doubtless,  both  contingencies  must  be 
contemplated  and  prepared  for,  and  if  God  is  not 
able  to  do  this,  it  is  certainly  unsafe  for  him  to  allow 
liberty.  But  who  is  prepared  to  say  that  God  is  so 
impotent,  that  he  is  compelled,  while  mocking  man 
with  an  appearance  of  freedom,  to  shove  him  along 


LIBERTY.  207 

a  line  of  pre-determined  action  ?  Not  we,  certainly. 
Whatever  the  liabilities  and  demands  of  liberty,  these 
we  believe  God  is  able  to  meet.  Liberty  implies  two 
lines  of  conduct  honestly  open  to  man.  God  can 
meet  him,  and  control  him  in  either.  It  is  by  no 
means  a  matter  of  chance  which  he  will  pursue  ;  it  is 
only  not  a  thing  of  necessity.  The  difference  in 
results  which  depend  on  freedom  as  compared  with 
those  which  spring  from  causation,  is  like  that  which 
exists  between  demonstrative  and  moral  proof.  The 
one  is  fixed,  absolute  in  its  conclusions  ;  the  other 
probable.  Yet  we  even  deal  with  both  equally  well. 
Most  of  our  actions,  our  calculations,  depend  on 
moral  evidence,  evidence  that  admits  a  doubt,  yet 
we  prosper.  Much  more,  then,  shall  the  Kingdom 
of  God  thrive  in  his  hand.  It  is  not  necessary  that 
he  should  break  in  on  liberty,  nor  that  we  should 
conceive  it  under  the  form  of  a  conditional,  physical 
cause,  in  order  to  make  way  for  his  counsels  and  his 
control.  He  created  it,  he  contemplates  it,  and  gives 
it  the  margin  its  activities  require.  His  "  thus  far 
and  no  farther,"  is  as  effective  against  spiritual  power 
as  against  physical  force.  What  is  capable  of  being 
known,  he  knows.  What  is  not  a  matter  of  knowl- 
edge, omniscience  does  not  suffice  to  make  such,  nor 
is  it  dishonored  by  the  failure.  The  glory  of  God  is 
found  in  his  giving  and  handling  liberty  ;  not  in  his 
pressing  his  own  purpose  through  and  over  all,  flood- 
ing the  spiritual  universe,  as  he  does  the  physical, 
with  his  personal  force.  His  honor  is  that  he  floats 
upon  and  above  this  ocean  of  forces,  a  spiritual  king- 
dom, spirits    innumerable ;    not  that  he  submerges 


208.  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

them  all  till  they  become  mere  fish  of  the  sea,  or 
drowns  them  all  in  it,  dead  men,  bringing  to  the 
surface,  for  his  sunlight,  faces  stark  and  ghastly. 
Let  these  spirits  remain  spirits,  that  God  may  foster 
them  and  love  them,  and  rule  in  them  and  surround 
his  throne  with  them,  as  the  only  adequate  utterance 
of  his  own  invisible  life. 


LECTURE  IX. 

LIFE  J     ITS    NATURE   AND    ORIGIN. THE    MIND. 

We  have  now  considered  those  ideas  which  give 
character  to  the  intellectual  field,  and  distinguish  it 
from  every  other.  The  first  of  them  is  conscious- 
ness, assigning  the  boundaries  of  the  department ; 
the  second  are  right  and  liberty,  giving  its  laws. 
With  these,  beauty  also  is  present,  the  central  idea 
of  the  department  of  taste,  and  a  product  solely  of 
emotional  thought.  There  is  yet  another  idea,  which, 
for  the  sake  of  completeness,  we  should  mention, 
though  we  do  not  propose  to  dwell  upon  it.  Resem- 
blance, applicable  to  mental  as  to  physical  phenomena, 
performs,  in  addition  to  the  aid  rendered  by  it  in 
the  classification  of  our  intellectual  activities,  a  very 
peculiar  and  important  part  in  the  processes  of 
thought.  The  agreement  of  our  conceptions,  our 
judgments  with  that  to  which  they  pertain,  is  what 
we  term  truth,  and  the  growth  of  our  knowledge  re- 
quires of  us  a  careful  and  constant  observance  of  this 
connection  of  the  fact  as  present  to  the  mind,  with  the 
exterior  fact  of  which  it  is  the  symbol.  Every  step, 
therefore,  of  inquiry  proceeds  under  the  idea  of  re- 
semblance in  the  phase  of  it  known  as  truth  ;  and 
thus  the  trio  which  preside  over  thought  are  fre- 
quently given  as  the  good,  the  beautiful,  and  the  true. 
The  good  is  the  very  substance  of  rational  action  ;  the 
beautiful  is  the  perfection  of  its  form  ;  and  the  true 


210  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

is  the  exactness  of  its  equivalence,  of  its  correspond- 
ence, to  things  as  they  are.  The  right  still  yields 
the  law ;  through  inquiry,  through  truth,  that  law  is 
grounded  in  facts  ;  and  by  taste,  by  beauty,  action 
under  it  is  made  symmetrical  and  complete. 

Liberty,  as  we  have  said,  rests  back  on,  includes 
as  its  central  feature,  spontaneity,  and  spontaneity  is 
the  condition  of  all  that  is  true,  that  is  beautiful,  and 
that  is  good.  Our  intellectual  conceptions  cannot  be 
shaped  to  facts,  but  must  lie  as  they  chance,  parallel 
or  athwart,  unless  the  mind  can  at  pleasure  shape 
and  re-shape  them,  till  the  exactness  of  agreement  is 
secured.  Our  sesthetical  productions  above  all  need 
to  show  the  easy,  free,  cheerful,  unconstrained  way 
in  which  they  have  sprung  up ;  while  virtue  is  chosen 
conformity  to  the  law  of  our  moral  life,  which,  by  the 
adoption  of  every  other  law,  becomes  the  law  of  our 
entire  life ;  and  perfect  virtue  is  the  instantaneous 
and  spontaneous  response  of  the  mind  to  every  holy 
impulse.  Spontaneity,  then,  is  the  seat  of  our  spir- 
itual power,  and  virtue  the  form  of  its  perfect  mani- 
festation ;  while  beauty  remains  the  grace  of  that 
form,  and  truth  its  harmony  in  a  universe  of  kin- 
dred being. 

We  now  pass  from  the  field  and  law  of  mental  life 
to  its  nature  and  source.  Mental  life  ;  the  words 
imply  that  the  mind  presents  a  form  or  phase  of  life ; 
and  that  life  is  the  germinant,  generic  idea  of  the 
spiritual  world.  Spencer  gives  this  definition  of  life  : 
"  The  continuous  adjustment  of  internal  relations  to 
external  relations."  It  has  much  merit,  but  seems  to 
us  to  share  the  general  deficiency  of  his  philosophy, 


life;  its  nature  and  ORIGIN. THE  MIND.      211 

and  to  be  rather  a  statement  of  a  portion  of  that 
which  life  does  than  an  exposition  of  the  life-power 
itself,  the  source  of  all  vital  phenomena.  A  defini- 
tion should  contain  an  inclusive  statement  of  that 
which  is  to  be  attributed  to  life,  and  also  a  reference 
of  these  results  to  it  as  their  source.  We  only  know 
life  by  what  it  does  ;  yet  what  it  does  is  not  life,  but 
the  product  of  life.  Life  is  measured  by  the  sum  of  all 
that  it  accomplishes,  and  this  sum  is  the  complete, 
phenomenal  expression  of  that  power.  Such  a  state- 
ment, however,  is  necessarily  of  the  most  general 
character,  since  life  is  not  so  much  life  as  "  lives,"  is 
not  so  much  one  force  as  a  great  class  of  forces,  each 
working  results  peculiar  to  itself.  The  lichen  and 
man  have  little  in  common,  and  that  definition  of  life 
which  is  not  too  broad  for  the  one  nor  too  narrow  for 
the  other,  can  only  include  the  most  generic  features. 
Appropriating  the  labors  of  Spencer,  we  would  say, 
that  life  is  that  power  which  establishes  a  circle  of 
internal  relations,  and  maintains  them  in  constant 
adjustment  with  external  relations.  The  entire  no- 
tion of  power  now  present  in  the  definition  is  there  by 
our  insertion,  and  it  has  two  offices  :  first,  the  build- 
ing up  of  an  organic  product ;  and  second,  the  main- 
tenance of  it.  The  parts  of  an  organic  being  are 
strictly  parts,  play  into  each  other,  are  dependent  on 
each  other,  and  together  constitute  a  whole.  The 
rank  of  life  is  shown  by  the  complexity  and  complete- 
ness of  this  dependence,  by  the  entire  separation  of 
the  living  being  from  every  other,  and  by  the  varied 
ministrations  within  itself  to  its  own  happiness  and 
power.     Thus  man  is  looked  upon  as  a  microcosm  in 


212  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

the  marvellous  multiplicity  of  dependencies  and  deli- 
cacy of  attachments  in  his  complex,  physical  and  spir- 
itual structure,  in  the  innumerable  things  he  is  able 
to  do,  and  able  to  suffer.  To  set  up  such  a  circle  of 
relations,  to  build  such  an  organic  structure,  and  to 
maintain  it  in  instant,  perfect  adjustment  to  a  thou- 
sand variable  outer  agencies,  is  the  highest  known 
labor  of  life.  From  such  a  product  as  this,  life  sinks 
downward,  till,  in  the  amoeba,  composed  chiefly  of 
protoplasm,  and  possessed  of  no  permanent  organs, 
it  scarcely  shows  a  trace  of  that  power  which  in  man 
overwhelms  us  with  astonishment.  Yet,  even  here, 
as  life  it  works  like  life,  and  extemporizes  organs 
which  subserve  their  purpose,  and  disappear  again  in 
the  speck  of  jelly  from  which  they  spring.  Having 
no  limbs,  it  establishes  a  limb  at  any  point ;  having 
no  stomach,  it  starts  digestion  wherever  it  can  secure 
contact ;  and  thus,  without  fixed  relations,  it  renews 
fluctuating  ones  as  suits  the  exigency.  The  word 
life,  therefore,  presents  an  instance  of  one  of  those 
sweeping  generalizations,  by  which  a  single  point  of 
agreement  is  made  to  cover  great  variety  of  details, 
and  we  conveniently  speak  of  one  power,  where  a 
great  diversity  of  allied  powers  is  under  consideration. 

There  are  three  questions  which  are  asked  and 
variously  answered  concerning  life:  Why  postulate 
a  vital  force,  a  life-power  at  all  ?  Whence  is  the 
source  of  life,  what  has  been  the  origin  of  vegetable 
and  animal  life  on  the  globe,  and  of  the  various  forms 
they  have  assumed  ?  And,  if  a  life-power  be  con- 
ceded, what  is  its  nature  and  its  method  of  action  ? 

The  first  of  these  questions,  Is  there  a  distinct  life- 


life;  its  nature  and  origin. — the  mind.     213 

power  ?  has  been  recently  answered  by  a  few  physi- 
cists in  the  negative.  An  obvious,  preliminary  objec- 
tion to  this  opinion  is,  that  it  has  arisen,  not  under  the 
impressions  of  the  most  palpable  manifestations  of 
this  power,  not  in  view  of  the  highest  animal  life,  nor 
indeed  of  the  great  mass  of  life,  animal  and  vegetable, 
but  has  been  the  result  of  an  inquiry  into  life  in  its 
most  obscure  and  undeclared  forms.  It  certainly 
weakens  any  argument,  that  it  gathers  its  data  from 
dark,  marginal  facts,  and  goes  directly  against  those 
conclusions  that  spring  naturally  from  plain,  massive, 
central  phenomena.  A  tendency  to  reduce  facts  to  a 
minimum  visibile,  and  to  draw  one's  inferences  from 
the  last  point  reached,  is  always  unsafe.  A  class  of 
experiments  which  has  been  one  scource  of  this  con- 
viction are  those  which  pertain  to  the  spontaneous 
generation  of  life.  It  has  been  doubted,  whether  life 
in  all  instances  springs  from  a  previous,  living  germ  ; 
whether  it  is  not  sometimes  found  where  no  germ 
could  have  been  present.  This  is  a  question  of  fact, 
which  may,  perhaps,  be  said  to  remain  unsettled.  As, 
however,  the  broadest  of  inductions  has  established 
the  law  of  the  dependence  of  life  on  germs,  only  the 
most  undeniable  proof  can  be  allowed  to  overthrow 
it.  All  doubt  and  uncertainty  accrue  in  favor  of  a 
law  which  has  such  various  and  unmistakable  grounds 
of  proof  back  of  it.  Yet,  granting  the  spontaneous 
origin  of  life  in  one  or  more  forms,  the  argument  for 
its  independent,  original  character  is  not  thereby  in- 
validated. This  does  not  rest  oh  the  theory  of  germs, 
but  on  the  fact  of  peculiar  phenomena,  demanding  for 
their  interpretation  a  peculiar  power.     If  such  phe- 


214  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

nomena  are  present,  the  law  of  causation  demands 
for  new  effects  new  powers.  If  elephants  were  found 
suddenly  to  appear  after  certain  sand-storms  on  Afri- 
can plains,  this  fact  would  not  show  the  indentity  of 
the  wind  and  dust  elements  with  the  life-power.  It 
would  rather  show  the  disguised  way  in  which  a 
supernatural  force  had  found  admission  among  natural 
ones.  Infusoria,  appearing  in  a  given  solution,  are 
as  much  a  new  product  as  would  be  our  elephants. 
Physicists  may  explain  their  presence  as  they  please  ; 
we  trust,  however,  that  they  will  not  be  so  unphilo- 
sophical  as  to  overlook  that  which  is  new  in  the  results, 
because  it  is  very  small.  The  whole  argument  turns 
on  minutiae,  is  poised  on  microscopic  points.  If  the 
difference  between  an  infusorium  and  a  dead  atom 
is  too  little  to  indicate  a  new  power,  then  it  is  too  lit- 
tle to  establish  the  presence  of  life,  too  little  to  be 
made  the  grounds  of  an  argument  against  life.  By 
as  much  as  the  infusion  with  the  infusoria  is  more 
than  the  infusion  without  them,  by  so  much  is  there 
proof,  and  sufficient  proof,  of  the  presence  of  a  new 
power. 

A  second  line  of  argument  has  been  recently  pre- 
sented by  Huxley.  It  is  this  :  "  Protoplasm,  a  com- 
plex body,  exhibits  the  phenomena  of  life.  This 
protoplasm  is  devoid  of  structure,  that  is  to  say  of 
any  structure  except  the  molecular  structure  pos- 
sessed by  all  colloid  matter.  It  contains  neither  cells 
nor  nuclei."  Protoplasm  is  the  food  both  of  plants 
and  animals,  with  this  difference,  "  that  plants  can 
manufacture  fresh  protoplasm  of  mineral  compounds, 
whereas  animals  are  obliged  to  procure  it  ready  made, 


life;  its  nature  and  origin. — the  mind.     215 

and  hence,  in  the  long  run,  depend  upon  plants." 
This  discovery  of  vital  power  in  connection  with 
protoplasm,  ranking  with  the  highest  inorganic  rathei 
that  with  the  lowest  organic  compounds,  has  been 
thought  to  have  great  significance,  disconnecting  life 
from  the  cell,  hitherto  its  last  refuge,  and  exhibiting 
it  at  work  in  matter  not  yet  definitely  arranged  or 
organized  by  it.  The  conclusion  of  Prof.  Huxley,  and 
of  others,  in  regard  to  protoplasm,  is  this :  "  Its  ex- 
istence proves  life  to  be  a  molecular  property,  and 
shows  that  organization  is  the  product  of  life,  not  life 
the  product  of  organization."  He  regards  the  notion 
of  vital  force  as  a  wholly  gratuitous  assumption,  as 
much  so  as  would  be  an  explanation  of  the  various 
properties  of  water  by  the  idea  of  "  aquosity."  "  We 
do  not  hesitate  to  believe,"  he  says,  "that  the  many 
strange  phenomena,  the  properties  of  water,  result 
from  the  properties  of  the  component  elements  of 
water.  What  better  philosophical  status  has  '  vitality' 
than  '  aquosity  ? '  And  why  should  •  vitality '  hope 
for  a  better  fate  than  other/ itys'  which  have  disap- 
peared since  Martinus  Scriblerus  accounted  for  the 
operation  of  a  meat-jack  by  its  inherent,  '  meat-roast- 

'  ing  qualities/  and  scorned  the  '  materialism '  of  those 

who  explained  the  turning  of  the  spit  by  a  certain 

mechanism  worked  by  the  draught  of  the  chimney  ? " 

We  should  wish  no  better  example  than  the  above 

"of  the  hasty  generalizations  with  which  physicists 
are  ready  to  precipitate  themselves  into  a  half  open 
opportunity  to  traverse  the  ordinary  and  more  spirit- 
ual view.  Even  the  data  for  a  specious  conclusion 
against  an  independent,  vital  principle  are  wanting. 


2l6  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

The  professor  should  at  least  have  shown  that  proto- 
plasm is  a  chemical  compound  that  can  be  realized  at 
will,  and  that  when  secured  it  exhibits  at  once,  neces- 
sarily, uniformly,  the  entire  circle  of  vital  appearances. 
This  is  the  case  with  water  and  its  properties,  and  thus 
a  limited  circle  of  definite  powers  calls  for  no  other 
explanation  than  the  fixed  nature  of  the  elements  con- 
cerned, their  molecular  structure.  When,  however, 
and  we  draw  attention  to  the  fact,  we  find  water  as- 
suming in  snowflakes,  on  the  window-pane,  and  on  the 
bars  that  begin  to  interlace  the  pool  by  the  way-side, 
striking,  variable,  peculiar  forms,  we  explain  them  by 
a  new  force — that  of  crystallization,  as  we  do  the 
spheres  it  forms  in  dropping  from  the  finger-end  by 
the  idea  of  attraction.  Huxley,  far  from  laying  this 
foundation  for  his  argument,  speaks  of  "  dead  pro- 
toplasm," that  is,  protoplasm  without  these  living 
properties.  The  language  is  as  unfortunate  for  his 
reasoning  as  if  he  had  been  compelled  to  admit  the 
existence  of  water  without  the  qualities  of  water. 
Then,  indeed,  should  we  be  forced  to  refer  these 
qualities,  on  their  manifestation,  to  some  new  force, 
which  we  might  more  fitly  than  euphoniously  term 
"  aquosity."  If  Huxley  had  been  able  to  show,  which 
he  has  not  shown,  that  all  protoplasm  exhibits  a  con- 
stant series  of  vital  phenomena,  how  far  off  would  he 
still  have  been  from  accounting  for  the  ten  thousand 
separate  and  fixed  forms  which  life  assumes  ;  how 
little  would  he  have  been  at  liberty  to  refer  these,  so 
new,  so  diverse,  so  striking  facts,  to  the  molecular 
action  of  the  elements  of  protoplasm  !  All  the  bur- 
den which  these  data  of  proof  could  honestly  bear 


life;  its  nature  and  origin. — the  mind.     217 

would  be  those  facts  which  they  strictly  cover,  to 
wit :  the  circulations,  contractions,  prolongations  of 
protoplasm.  Till  this  wonderful  protoplasm  can,  on 
certain  fixed,  physical  conditions,  be  shown  to  run 
through  by  rote  all  the  phenomena  which  belong  to 
all  forms  of  life,  as  water  stands  ready  to  assume  its 
Protean  shapes,  from  ice  to  steam,  with  perfect  regu- 
larity on  fitting  suggestion,  the  proof  of  the  equiva- 
lence of  its  molecular  forces  to  the  power  of  life  is 
not  complete,  and  "vitality"  still  rests  on  different 
ground  from  that  of  the  "  itys  "  which  have  gone 
before  it.  Even  the  first  step  in  this  proof  has  ad- 
mittedly failed,  and  protoplasm  is  sometimes  living 
protoplasm  and  sometimes  dead  protoplasm.  Will 
Mr.  Huxley  be  so  kind  as  to  tell  us  the  difference 
between  the  two  ? 

What  is  it  that  vital  power  or  the  "  lives  "  are  in- 
voked to  explain  ?  Those  most  varied,  those  most 
wonderful,  combinations  of  parts  and  functions  in  the 
organic  products  of  the  vegetable  and  animal  king- 
dom. We  are  content  to  accept  the  assertion,  that 
no  vital  result  is  reached  without  the  expenditure  of 
chemical,  thermal,  mechanical  forces,  without  the 
mediation  of  those  molecular  forces  which  inhere  in 
the  several  elements  handled  by  life.  The  proof  of 
this  is  by  no  means  complete,  but  it  is  sufficient  to 
render  the  conclusion  exceedingly  probable.  Says 
Wm.  Odling,  in  his  Lectures  before  the  Royal  College 
of  Physicians :  "  Chemists  and  physicists  are  well 
assured  that  be  life  what  it  may,  it  is  not  a  generator, 
but  only  a  transformer  of  external  force."  (p.  108.) 
Certain  it  is  that  every  known,  physical  change 
10 


2l8  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

assumes  the  form  of  a  chemical,  thermal,  mechanical 
one,  is  a  change  in  molecules  or  in  masses  exactly 
allied  to  changes  that  take  place  elsewhere.  JN"o 
process,  new  in  kind,  new  in  its  ultimate  constituents 
is  found  within  an  organic  body,  when  this  process 
is  compared  with  those  which  take  place  without  the 
body.  In  this  respect  the  organic  product  is  like  the 
laboratory  of  the  chemist.  Much  happens  there 
which  is  not  in  form  occuring  elsewhere ;  but  it  hap- 
pens under  molecular  actions  identical  with  those  in 
the  world  at  large.  Nor  do  we  well  see  how  it  could 
be  otherwise.  A  living  creature  is  not  made,  as  a 
building  is  erected,  out  of  masses  whose  internal 
structure  remains  intact.  Their  structure  is  broken 
down,  and  new  compounds  are  realized  by  a  new  al- 
lotment and  union  of  elements.  This  is  a  chemical 
process  ;  these  are  exactly  the  results  that  we  term 
chemical ;  and  either  the  vital  principle  must  create 
something  absolutely  new,  or  the  various  organs  and 
members  of  its  respective  structures  must  arise  un- 
der the  re-organized,  molecular,  that  is  chemical,  action 
of  their  constituents.  We  do  not  expect  an  architect 
to  make  his  stones,  his  brick,  his  timber.  The  vital 
architect,  working  within  a  more  interior  circle,  that 
of  molecular  forces,  does  not  make  these,  but  employs 
them,  and  therefore  all  its  processes  have  the  appear- 
ance and  form  of  chemical  facts.  What  life  is  evoked 
to  explain  is  not  these,  taken  separately,  but  collec- 
tively :  not  these  in  what  they  are  in  themselves,  but 
in  the  relations  which  give  rise  to  them,  and  in  the 
results  to  which  they  tend.  We  demand  life  for  the 
same  reason  that  we  demand  a  chemist  in  the  labo- 


life;  its  nature  and  origin. — the  mind.     219 

ratory  ;  not  because  of  what  takes  place  in  the  retort, 
but  because  of  the  retort  itself ;  not  for  the  chemical 
actions  and  reactions  of  the  experiment,  but  for  the 
very  experiment,  its  existence  as  a  present  fact,  and 
its  presentation  to  us.  We  require  an  architect  not 
to  account  for  the  stones  and  mortar,  but  for  their 
relations  to  each  other.  We  may  understand  the 
transfer  of  a  telegram  through  the  workings  of  a  tele- 
graph, the  circuit  of  chemical,  electric  and  mechanical 
changes  therein,  but  the  message  itself  we  understand 
only  through  the  existence  of  a  distant  friend,  his 
character  and  purposes.  Now  if  the  vital  power 
were  a  force  lodged  in  these  or  those  molecules,  and 
could  by  some  possibility  show  itself  as  a  distinct 
force,  and  not  in  the  discovery  seem  to  be  one  of  the 
recognized  forms  of  physical  force,  we  see  not  how  it 
could  do  the  work  we  have  for  it.  We  have  enough 
physical  forces  ;  what  is  wanted  in  an  organic  product 
like  the  human  body  is  something  to  use  them,  to 
separate  them,  compound  them,  and  set  them  at  ser- 
vices reciprocal  and  complete.  There  is  material 
enough,  and  variety  enough  in  it ;  we  are  waiting  to 
see  it  combined,  its  forces  included  and  harmonized 
in  a  system  of  ends.  This  supreme  mystery  in  every 
living  thing,  this  variable  and  wonderful  power,  whose 
products  are  our  perpetual  astonishment,  every  pen- 
etrative mind  is  more  or  less  conscious  of.  Thus 
Odling  proceeds  to  say  :  "  I  believe,  however,  that 
chemists  appreciate  to  the  fullest  extent  what  may 
be  termed  the  mystery  of  life."  Dr.  Bushnel  thus 
gathers  up  before  the  wheels  of  his  ardent  rhetoric 
the  chemical  explanations  of  life  as  the  small  dust  of 


220  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

the  street,  and  makes  of  them  the  clouds  that  signal- 
ize without  retarding  his  progress :  "  I  hardly  know- 
how  to  speak  with  due  respect  of  a  theory  that  makes 
a  very  little,  almost  tiny,  amount  of  science  go  so  far, 
and  solve  a  problem  of  such  wonderful  complexity. 
Take  a  human  body,  fibered,  vasculated,  innerved, 
articulated,  digesting,  secreting,  absorbing,  breath- 
ing, circulating,  carrying  on  even  thousands  of  dis- 
tinct operations,  at  hundreds  of  thousands  of  distinct 
points,  all  necessary  to  each  other,  so  that  when 
some  tiny  process,  never  perceived  by  man,  slips  its 
duty,  and  the  proportionate  working  is  but  a  little 
changed,  the  equilibrium  called  health  is  overset — 
conceive  all  this,  then  conceive  that  this  multifarious 
world  of  operative  powers  plays  on,  still  on,  asleep 
and  awake,  for  sixty  or  a  hundred  years,  mastering 
heat,  and  cold,  and  breakage,  in  a  thousand  forms  ; 
whereupon  the  chemist,  who  has  gotten  hold  of  a  few 
simple  laws  of  inorganic  matter,  tells  you  that  he  can 
solve  it ;  that  we  take  in  food,  and  the  food  put  in 
the  structure,  as  a  machine,  makes  force  and  carries 
on  the  play,  and  replaces  the  waste,  and  so  that  the 
machine  keeps  everything,  even  the  machine  itself, 
in  order,  proportion,  and  prolonged  operation  !  The 
body  is,  in  this  view,  nothing  but  a  laboratory,  gotten 
up  with  just  so  many  parts  as  there  are  functions, 
and  they  all  play  together,  making  it  a  body.  Carry 
out  the  figure,  now,  and  see  what  is  in  it.  The 
chemist  has  a  laboratory  full  of  vials,  bottles,  acids, 
alkalies,  all  manner  of  simples,  and  all  manner  of 
salts,  with  combustibles,  and  fires,  and  galvanic  bat- 
teries, and  force-pumps,  and  gasometers,  in  short,  a 


life;   its  nature  and  ORIGIN. THE  MIND.      221 

little  universe  of  chemical  substances  and  machineries. 
Now  this  doctrine  of  the  body  is  just  as  if,  connecting 
all  these  vessels,  and  substances,  into  a  chemical 
circle,  by  pipes,  and  pumps,  and  sponges,  and  wire- 
conductors,  and  going  to  his  digester,  he  were  to  put 
in  three  times  a  day  a  loaf  of  bread,  which  has  in  it 
such  a  wonderful  wise-acting  set  of  forces,  that,  pas- 
sing into  the  grand  circuit  of  the  laboratory,  he  im- 
agines it  to  keep  all  the  parts  in  play  and  sound  con- 
dition— the  vials  just  as  full  as  they  were,  and  of  the 
same  substance  ;  the  galvanic  batteries,  eaten  up  by 
the  acids,  still  sound  and  good  as  before  ;  the  combus- 
tible, going  off  in  gases,  replaced  by  new  combustibles  ; 
the  ices,  dissolved,  replaced  by  freezing,  and  the  vapors 
thrown  off,  by  condensing ;  and  even  the  iron  digester 
itself  renewed  in  the  wear,  by  the  nourishing  force 
of  the  bread  that  is  dissolved  in  it.  What  a  magnifi- 
cently preposterous  solution  is  this  to  be  offered  in 
the  name  of  science !  And  yet  the  same  kind  of 
solution,  put  upon  the  body  with  such  easy  compla- 
cency, is  at  least  a  hundred  times  more  preposterous 
as  the  body-laboratory  is  at  least  a  hundred  times 
more  complex."  A  power,  then,  which  does  a  work 
so  wholly  beyond  purely  physical  forces,  so  directly 
opposed  to  what  these,  when  left  to  themselves,  can 
accomplish,  death  itself  being  nothing  other  than 
their  unguided  action,  as  the  shattered  vehicle  is  the 
sequence  of  the  runaway  horse,  is  not  a  physical 
force,  but  something  wholly  transcending  it. 

Our  next  inquiry  pertains  to  the  method  of  the  in- 
troduction of  life.  The  forms  of  life  are  so  distinct, 
and   so   manifestly   of  comparatively   recent   origin, 


222  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

that  they  have  furnished  a  strong  argument  for  those 
who  have  wished  to  mark  the  exact  historical  periods 
at  which  creative  power  has  appeared.  A  theory  has 
been  brought  forward,  which  physicists  have  eagerly 
seized  upon  to  rid  themselves  of  these  points  of  at- 
tachment of  a  supernatural  agency.  This  theory  is  L 
more  often  known  as  that  of  Darwin.  It  is  so  famil- 
iar, that  I  may  pre-suppose  a  knowledge  of  it.  It  so 
divides  and  subdivides  the  spaces  that  lie  between 
the  several  kinds  of  life  as  easily  to  pass  them  in 
detail,  and  climb  by  a  consecutive  series  from  the 
lowest  to  the  highest.  It  comes  in  to  complement 
the  theory  of  protoplasm,  and,  though,  not  believing 
in  germs,  to  work  up  the  merest  germ  of  power  into 
a  universe.  Not  only  is  this  theory  of  Darwin  not 
established,  it  is,  by  the  admission  of  its  friends,  inca- 
pable of  present  proof.  Indeed,  this  is  one  of  their 
strong  arguments,  that  as  it  is  from  the  nature  of  the 
case  impossible  to  secure  the  data  requisite  for  its  con- 
firmation, they  should  be  excused  from  the  labor  ; 
while  the  presumption  they  are  able  to  raise  in  its  favor 
should  have  full  force.  They  not  only  ingeniously 
excuse  themselves  from  its  establishment,  they  wish 
their  inability  to  be  accepted  as  a  make-weight  in 
place  of  proof,  to  open  the  way  for  easy  acceptance. 
The  impossibility  and  the  argument  run  thus  :  A 
large  part,  by  far  the  larger  part,  of  the  record  of  the 
life  of  the  globe  is  either  obliterated  or  beyond  our 
reach  ;  as  therefore  the  annals  of  life  show  great  rents, 
large  omissions,  so  ought  the  forms  of  life,  the  inter- 
mediate links  being  swept  into  oblivion.  This  fact,  so 
plain  and  inevitable,  should  not  weaken  the  argument 


LIFE  ;    ITS  NATURE  AND  ORIGIN. THE  MIND.       223 

afforded  by  those  positive  and  close  relations  of  certain 
portions  of  life,  suggesting,  as  they  do,  a  like  depen- 
dence everywhere.  Treat  the  proof  of  this  theory 
in  the  most  considerate  way,  and  still,  in  view  of  all 
the  difficulties,  it  remains  weak.  It  rests  by  far  too 
much  on  our  ignorance ;  this  can  give  it  no  positive 
support.  Moreover,  though  the  geological  record  is 
very  incomplete,  the  facts  it  does  give  are  scattered 
widely  up  and  down  the  entire  field,  and  should  serve 
as  fair  types  of  the  remaining  facts.  Our  actual 
knowledge  is  not,  therefore,  proportioned  in  its  extent 
to  the  relation  which  the  discovered  facts  bear  to  the 
undiscovered  ones,  but  is  much  greater  than  this  ratio 
-would  indicate.  A  single  known  fact  may  stand  as  the 
representative  of  innumerable  unknown  ones.  We 
are  not  thus  at  liberty  to  insist  to  the  full  on  the  great 
loss  of  geological  data.  We  know  the  history  of  our 
own  race  in  its  leading  features  through  a  knowledge  of 
a  very  few  of  the  events  that  have  actually  transpired, 
and  so  may  we  that  of  the  organic  world.  Looking 
upon  our  geological  knowledge  as  a  proximately  fair 
presentation  of  the  field,  the  spaces,  the  chasms  be- 
tween the  kinds  of  life  are  so  many  and  so  broad  and 
so  universal  as  greatly  to  weaken  the  force  of  the 
argument,  resting  on  those  instances  in  which  they 
closely  approach  ;  and  the  more  so,  as,  on  any  theory, 
we  are  prepared  to  expect  a  frequent  and  intimate 
dependence  of  the  forms  of  life,  and  even  a  genetic 
relation  of  many  varieties.  This  failure  to  close  up 
great  gaps  in  the  chain  also  occurs  at  points  at  which 
the  material,  if  it  existed,  should  be  especially  acces- 
sible, for  instance,   in  the  space  between  man  and 


224  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

the  beings  below  him.  The  facts,  therefore,  seem  to 
suggest  two  methods  rather  than  one  in  creation, 
an  occasional  close  union  of  species,  and  a  frequent 
broad  separation  of  families. 

Again,  the  Darwinian  theory  requires  to  be  supple- 
mented by  many  other  suppositions  favorable  to  it. 
Thus  when  Geology  indicates  that  great  inroads  have 
been  made  upon  life,  sweeping  a  large  part  of  it  from 
the  globe,  some  land  of  refuge  must  be  provided,  some 
ark  launched  in  which  it  can  hide,  where  progress 
may  still  be  maintained,  and  where  it  may  return,  on 
occasion,  to  occupy  the  old  region  once  more  uplifted. 
Now  this  careful,  prudent,  shepherding  of  primitive 
life,  and  maintenance  for  it  of  many  unbroken  threads 
of  development,  is  cumbersome,  improbable,  and 
purely  hypothetical.  It  seems  to  have  been  handled 
in  a  very  rough  and  destructive  way.  Moreover,  some 
forms  of  it  have  certainly  remained  for  incredible 
periods  without  material  change.  Life,  then,  must 
have  early  divided  itself  into  permanent  and  flexible 
forms,  and  no  uniform  law  of  variability  can  be  estab- 
lished or  assumed.  Thus  we  get  back  to  accidental, 
hap-hazard  results,  as  to  the  conditions  and  directions 
of  change.  The  argument  from  embryology,  much 
insisted  on,  seems  to  us  peculiarly  vague.  If  life  has 
been  introduced  in  this  serial  way,  that  fact  does  not 
render  an-  obvious  reason  why  successive  stages  of 
lower  life  should  be  found  in  every  embryo  of  higher 
life.  Must  every  portion  of  the  history  of  its  race  be 
repeated  in  pantomime  by  each  embryo  ?  If  any 
part  is  thus  to  be  rehearsed,  why  not  the  whole 
exactly  ?     In  passing  from  the  general,  the  indefinite, 


LIFE  ;    ITS  NATURE  AND  ORIGIN. THE  MIND.      225 

to  the  specific,  the  definite,  would  there  not  naturally 
be  stages,  faintly  figuring  the  like  stages  which  uni- 
versal life  assumes  in  working  out  exactly  the  same 
problem  ?    The  proof  at  this  point  lacks  definite  force. 

Our  purpose  now,  however,  is  to  show  that  our 
notion  of  the  independent  nature  of  life  does  not 
depend  on  the  rejection  or  acceptance  of  this  theory, 
but  is  equally  sound  on  either  supposition.  The  only 
question  raised  by  it  is,  Whether  life,  as  a  fact,  has  been 
enlarged  on  the  globe  by  slight  increments  in  connec- 
tion with  previous  forms,  or  by  decided,  independent 
steps  ?  In  whatever  way  we  answer  this  inquiry,  we 
may  still  believe  in  a  super-physical,  vital  force. 
Suppose  the  growth  of  life,  as  a  whole,  to  have  been, 
as  in  each  of  its  separate  forms,  by  slight  changes  ; 
living  centres  creeping,  like  the  fern,  from  point  to 
point,  taking  up  new  positions  in  the  plane  of  devel- 
opment, and,  on  the  right  and  the  left,  establishing 
and  maintaining  distinct  ground,  different  genera, 
classes  and  families.  These  increments,  by  which 
the  life  of  to-day  is  more  than  that  of  yesterday,  are 
still  to  be  accounted  for.  They  may  be  referred  to 
outward  circumstances.  They  have  been  so  attrib- 
uted, till  the  manifest  inadequacy  of  the  causes  has 
made  the  ascription  ridiculous,  and,  as  a  general  the- 
ory, untenable.  Physicists  will  hardly  strive  again 
to  show  that  water  produces  web  feet,  or  air  wings. 

These  changes,  this  variability,  may  be  said  to  be  ac- 
cidental ;  while  the  preservation  of  that  which  is  most 
apt  in  the  several  species  may  be  referred  to  natural 
selection,  to  the  very  fact  of  higher  adaptations,  and 
the  possession  of  more  powers  in  the  struggle  for  life. 


226  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

This  feature  of  natural  selection,  Darwin  has  devel- 
oped in  a  most  thorough,  ingenious  and  instructive 
way,  leaving  no  room  to  doubt  its  presence  as  an  effi- 
cient cause  or  condition  in  the  world.  The  other 
half,  however,  of  this  second  explanation  is  every  way 
awkward.  It  is  pitiful,  starting  out  with  the  action 
of  law,  universal  and  complete  ;  having  reared,  with 
much  hullabaloo  and  clapping  of  hands,  the  flag  of 
independent,  self-sufficient,  natural  forces,  to.  be  com- 
pelled, in  so  important  a  case  as  this  of  life,  to  admit 
that  its  changes  are  subject  to  no  order,  are  acci- 
dental. It  might,  perhaps,  be  as  well  to  admit  spirit- 
ual powers  as  accidents  and  fortuity.  Chance  is  an 
ugly  deity,  and  it  is  much  like  passing  from  Jehovah 
to  Moloch  to  accept  it.  Further,  if  the  life-forces  are 
intrinsically  variable,  that  is  uncertain,  that  is  acci- 
dental, through  exactly  how  wide  a  circle  are  these 
accidents  to  run  ?  What  sort  of  lapses  and  failures, 
what  feats  of  agility  and  leaps  of  progress  are  they 
capable  of?  Accident  in  the  realm  of  order  is  like 
disease  in  the  body — one  can  hardly  say  how  far  it 
will  spread.  Where,  moreover,  in  the  geological 
world  is  the  evidence  of  the  innumerable  slips  and 
falls  which  the  life-force  must  have  sustained  in  thus 
mounting  to  its  present  position  ?  Accident  has  no 
law,  and  traces  of  every  shade  and  form  of  failure 
should  be  met  with.  Even  with  natural  selection  at 
hand  to  save  the  good,  it  would  take  accidental  vari- 
ability a  long  while  to  construct  the  organic  world. 
Geological  aeons  would  certainly  not  be  periods  too 
great  in  which  to  run  the  entire  circuit  of  possible 
mistakes,  and  gather  out  and  up  all  the  marvellous 


LIFE  J    ITS  NATURE  AND  ORIGIN. THE  MIND.      227 

beauties,  aptitudes,  coincidences  of  the  life  of  to- 
day. 

If  external  circumstances  cannot  occasion  serial 
development,  if  accidental,  irregular  modifications  are 
not  sufficient  for  this  end,  a  third  explanation  alone 
remains,  that  the  vital  forces  are  themselves  condi-  A 
tioned  to  orderly  changes.  This,  the  only  tenable 
ground  in  connection  with  the  theory  of  Darwin, 
makes  of  vital  force  the  same  inscrutable,  indefinitely 
divisible  and  distinct,  thing  that  we  have  spoken  of  as 
life-power,  as  the  lives.  It  matters  not  that  life  has 
become  what  it  is  by  short  steps.  Its  character  is 
decided,  not  by  its  length  of  stride,  but  by  what  at 
each  point  it  is.  The  building  is  no  less  majestic 
because  it  has  been  in  the  hands  of  architects  for 
generations.  Lives  to-day  are  no  less  numerous, 
distinct  and  wonderful,  because  they  may  have  been 
at  some  previous  time  fewer  and  more  closely  con- 
nected. These  steps  of  growth  and  distinction  are 
not,  because  small,  less  observable,  significant  and 
supernatural.  Every  increment  in  the  effect  de- 
mands a  like  increment  in  the  cause,  and  these  in- 
crements collectively  constitute  the  organic  world 
under  discussion.  We  are  not  to  powder  down  a 
granite  mountain,  wait  for  the  wind  to  blow  away  the 
dust,  and  then  say,  this  is  nothing ;  we  are  not  to 
divide  and  subdivide  the  spaces  between  the  right 
and  the  left,  the  top  and  the  bottom  of  this  pyramid 
of  life,  and  then  say,  These  results  are  too  small  for 
consideration.  We  cannot  drop  them  from  our 
theory  as  unimportant  factors,  too  insignificant  to 
effect  the  result,  and  yet  look  to  them  as  the  sources 


228  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

and  ground  of  the  present  organic  creation.  Give  to 
us,  gentlemen,  all  that  belongs  to  us,  do  not  overlook 
it  because  it  is  little,  and  we  promise  you,  that,  in- 
creasing it  at  every  step,  enlarging  it  at  every  change, 
we  will,  coming  up  through  the  long  lines  of  life,  make 
of  it  that  handsome  capital  of  astonishing  and  super- 
natural power  expressed  in  the  manifold  lives  of  to-day, 
that  hide  in  ocean,  creep  or  walk  on  land,  or  fly  under 
the  heavens.  This  tearing  and  teasing  method,  this 
plucking  away  the  cable  of  truth  fiber  by  fiber,  not 
breaking  it  by  one  manly  effort ;  this  reducton  of 
argument  to  impalpable  powder,  and  then  sending 
one's  breath  through  it  as  dust  to  be  gotten  rid  of,  is  a 
form  of  ratiocination  which  calls  for  no  great  respect. 
The  slightest  increment  of  force  demands  a  full  and 
complete  recognition,  and  the  miracle  of  life  is  subdi- 
vided, not  weakened  or  removed,  by  the  reduction  of  it 
to  many  stages.  A  thousand  mills  as  surely  make  a 
dollar  as  ten  dimes,  and  the  theft  of  one  of  them,  in 
the  exact  realm  of  philosophy,  is  palpable  dishonesty, 
is  the  vulture's  bill  once  more  struck  into  the  Prome- 
thean heart  of  truth.  Grant  us,  therefore,  in  any 
theory  of  development,  each  step  of  progress  in  its 
true  significance,  as  something  beyond  what  we  had 
before,  as  an  additional  force,  either  in  existence  or  in 
manifestation,  and  we  still  have  that  mighty  life- 
power,  which  has  mounted  the  throne  of  the  world, 
rules  its  mechanics  and  enemies,  and  gathers  its 
retinue  from  darkness  and  from  light,  fleet  of  foot, 
swift  of  wing,  and  sharper  than  the  winds  in  the 
keen  insight  of  thought. 

The  theory  of  development,  seen  in  its  true  bear- 


LIFE  ;    ITS  NATURE  AND  ORIGIN. THE  MIND.      229 

ings,  has  powerful  attractions  for  us.  We  are  almost 
ready  to  regret  that  it  so  lacks  proof  as  to  remain 
only  a  guide  to  inquiry,  to  be  used  cautiously,  and 
not  as  a  sufficient  explanation  of  facts.  We  see, 
however,  no  ground  for  the  ridicule  which  Spencer 
is  ready  to  bestow  on  the  special-creation-hypothesis. 
Having  amused  his  fancy  with  the  image  of  wayward 
atoms  and  dispersed  elements  rushing  in  to  a  centre 
to  take  part  in  the  formation  of  man  or  beast,  he 
says  of  this,  to  him  inconceivable,  fact,  a  special  and 
complete  creation :  "  It  is  one  of  those  cases  where 
men  do  not  really  believe,  but  rather  believe  they 
believe.  For  belief,  properly  so  called,  implies  a 
mental  representation  of  the  thing  believed  ;  and  no 
such  mental  representation  is  here  possible."  Can 
Spencer  conceive,  that  is,  form  a  complete  and  satis- 
factory image,  of  the  explosion  of  ten  pounds  of  gun- 
powder ?  The  black,  palpable  mass  suddenly  disap- 
pears, leaving  a  scent,  a  sound,  a  sight,  fire  and  cloud, 
behind  it.  If  he  can,  can  he  not  as  easily  conceive 
of  a  like  instantaneous  return  of  the  powder  out  of 
the  gases,  its  elements  ?  and,  if  this  be  possible,  is  it 
any  the  less  possible  to  conceive  of  the  like  sudden 
appearance  of  an  angel,  a  man,  an  animal  ?  The  fact 
is,  he  can  form  no  complete  image  of  the  process  in 
either  case,  and  the  explosion  of  the  gunpowder  has 
no  other  advantage  over  the  instant  creation  of  Adam 
than  that  of  familiarity.  One  becomes  weary  of  this 
talk  of  the  conceivable  and  inconceivable,  when  every 
process  that  transpires  within  us  and  about  us  is  in- 
conceivable in  its  last  analysis,  in  all  that  lies  beyond 
the  eye.     The  development  theory  has  no  advantage 


230  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

over  that  of  special  creations  in  conceivability,  except 
that  it  takes  its  food  finer.  It  makes  each  new 
event  smaller,  and  hides  it  away  more  perfectly. 
How  a  new  variety  is  occasioned  in  fruits,  in  flowers, 
is  inconceivable  ;  so  is  it,  also,  how  an  old  one  is 
maintained.  Familiar  and  not  familiar  is  all  that  can ' 
be  meant  by  conceivable  and  inconceivable  in  this 
connection,  and  the  argument  resolves  itself  into, 
What  is,  has  been,  and  always  shall  be. 

We  come  to  our  third  inquiry,  What  is  life  ?  We 
answer,  a  super-physical,  a  spiritual  power,  as  opposed 
to  a  defined  force  with  a  material  centre.  Our  rea- 
sons for  this  belief  are  various.  Life  performs  a  spirit- 
ual work,  it  constructs  an  organic  being  according  to 
a  definite  plan.  The  plan,  the  relations,  the  minis- 
trations, are  what  this  controlling  efficiency  is  evoked 
to  explain.  Again,  no  physical,  local,  definite  force 
can  do  this  work,  since  it  is  a  pervasive  and  variable 
one  ;  nor  is  any  particular  physical  force  called  for, 
since  these  in  sufficient  numbers  are  present,  and 
known  as  mechanical,  chemical,  nervous  forces.  Fur- 
ther, the  life-power  is  one  of  maintenance  and  repair, 
one  of  resources,  shifting  its  methods  and  grounds  of 
action  and  resistance.  It  meets  exigencies  with  new 
results,  and  thus  shows  itself  flexible,  variable,  spon- 
taneous. Again,  it  is  capable  of  indefinite  increase, 
and  thus  is  not  amenable  to  the  law  of  cause  and 
effect.  It  is  difficult  to  believe,  that  the  entire  oak 
is  potentially  in  the  acorn,  that  the  egg  contains  the 
force  of  the  completed  bird.  The  life-power  seems 
rather  to  expand  with  its  growing  work,  and  to  come, 
like  the  mind,  to  each  new  undertaking  with   new 


life;  its  nature  and  origin. — the  mind.     231 

energies.  A  complex  organism,  like  that  of  the  ani- 
mal, can  hardly  lie  crowded  in  the  minutest  germ, 
without  making  of  that  germ  an  unnecessary  mystery. 
Or,  conceding  this,  how  is  an  acorn  to  hold  ten  thou- 
sand acorns  equal  to  itself,  nay,  the  ten  times  ten 
thousand  which  these  may  produce  ?  The  equality 
of  cause  and  effect  finds  no  application  here,  and  the 
smallest  centre  of  life  goes  out  to  conquer,  cover  and 
dwell  on  a  continent. 

This  diffused  existence  and  spirituality  of  the  vital 
power  is  further  confirmed  by  the  results  reached  by 
those  who  refuse  to  accept  it.  Darwin  and  Spencer 
have  both  been  forced  back  into  theories,  the  one  of 
gemmules,  the  other  of  physiological  units,  as  incon- 
ceivable, as  perplexing,  as  much  beyond  all  possible 
physical  proof,  as  any  notion  of  the  life-power  can  be. 
The  gemmules  of  Darwin  are  most  strangely  endowed, 
most  wonderfully  prolific,  infinitely  minute,  wholly 
supposititious,  and  left  to  perform  an  incredible  work 
in  an  incredible  way.  This  great  materialist,  turn- 
ing his  back  on  life-power,  ends  prodigious  labors 
with  a  conception  as  perplexing,  obscure  and  super- 
physical — if  experience  is  to  be  allowed  to  tell  us 
what  is  and  what  is  not  physical — as  that  which  he 
left  in  the  outset,  determined  apparently  never  to 
return  to  it.  While  the  physical  side  of  a  life-power 
is  just  as  intelligible  as  are  the  facts  under  any 
theory,  in  its  philosophical  aspect,  it  commands  re- 
spect and  belief ;  it  stands  in  sympathy  with  those 
other  invisible  forces  which  compose  the  spiritual 
world.  That  the  lives — meaning  thereby  those  sep- 
arate manifestations    of  a   spiritual   power  that  call 


232  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

forth  and  maintain  distinct  organic  beings — stand  in 
ranks  or  grades  is  evident.  The  lowest  grade  of  this 
power  is  seen  in  the  vegetable.  Passing  to  the  animal 
kingdom,  we  find  a  new  and  much  more  perfect  de- 
pendence of  parts  secured  in  connection  with  a  ner- 
vous system  ;  and,  certainly  in  the  higher  animals, 
the  introduction  of  a  fresh  element  in  sensations, 
feelings,  recollections,  the  incipient  phenomena  of 
consciousness.  Thus,  life  strikes  down  into  the  dark 
world  of  an  unconscious,  a  purely  physical,  region, 
and  later  reaches  up  into  consciousness,  the  first 
light  of  a  spiritual  realm.  Life  lies  as  a  mid-way 
power  between  the  physical  and  the  purely  spiritual. 
It  acts  only  in  connection  with  a  physical  organism, 
is  conditioned  to  it,  but  nevertheless,  it  is  able  to 
take  into  its  service,  sensations,  emotions,  the  first 
elements  of  the  upper  world. 

We  would  look  upon  the  mind  as  something  super- 
added to  life,  and  far  less  dependent  than  it  on  phys- 
ical conditions.  While  life  is  restoring  its  powers  by 
sleep,  the  mind  remains  active.  Often  in  waking  mo- 
ments it  performs  its  most  severe  labor  with  closed 
senses,  the  busy  shuttle  of  argument  flying  in  the 
chambers  of  thought,  while  the  submerged,  forgotten, 
physical  processes  slowly  proceed,  like  some  heavy 
water-wheel  plunging  on  in  the  darkness  beneath. 
Life,  in  passing  from  the  animal  to  man,  carries  its 
full  quota  of  powers,  and  adds  to  them  new  points 
of  contact  with  the  spiritual  world.  The  nervous 
mechanism  has  now  no  longer  exclusive  relation  to 
an  automatic  government  of  the  body,  part  acting 
upon  part,  the  outside  playing  upon  the  inside  through 


life;  its  nature  and  origin. — the  mind.    233 

sensations  and  perceptions,  the  past  upon  the  present 
by  recollections ;  but  in  the  cerebrum,  the  highest 
chamber  of  consciousness,  of  rational  counsel,  is 
now  found  an  adjustment  that  takes  cognizance  of 
the  facts  of  a  purely  spiritual  realm,  and  transfers 
thoughts,  volitions,  affections  to  the  physical  world, 
lets  them  down,  in  their  influence,  on  matter.  An 
ALolian  string  is  thus  strung,  that  gathers  harmony 
from  the  mute  winds  above,  and  pours  it  on  the  sen- 
sible ear  below,  filling  the  world  with  its  music. 

A  true,  independent,  spontaneous  thought-power, 
a  soul,  a  mind,  we  believe  to  belong  to  man  alone ; 
while  the  appearance  of  it  merely  is  found  in  the 
animals.  Consciousness  with  them  stands  in  strict 
dependence  on  the  life-power,  in  simple  ministration 
to  it.  The  question,  Whether  animals  think?  we 
have  elsewhere  broached,  and  shall  only  add  a  few 
general  considerations.  Thought  is  not  any  mental 
activity,  but  that  particular  activity  by  which  we 
rationalize,  explain,  and  expound  sensations  under 
some  notion,  which  the  mind  furnishes  for  this  pur- 
pose. Thus  we  may  see  a  ball,  but  thought  about  it 
implies  that  we  bring  to  it  the  notion  of  existence, 
and  think  of  it  as  real ;  or  the  idea  of  space,  and  con- 
template its  size  and  position  ;  or  that  of  causation, 
and  inquire,  Who  placed  it  there  ?  These  and  like 
processes  are  thinking,  and  they  imply  the  presence 
in  the  mind  of  regulative  ideas  which  give  form  and 
shape  to  them.  There  is  another  and  inferior  form 
of  mental  activity  ;  in  it,  that  which  is  seen  acts 
directly  as  a  sensation,  and  secures  appropriate  effort 
without   reflection.      Thus  the  horse  snaps  at  the 


234  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

pendant  fruit,  the  lamb  leaps  the  ditch,  the  bird 
lights  on  the  spray,  without  consideration.  So  also 
recollections  have  the  same  direct,  spontaneous  hold 
on  the  entire  powers.  The  horse  quickens  his  pace 
as  he  approaches  the  home  of  his  owner,  and  the  dog 
greets  with  extravagant  delight  the  return  of  his 
master.  In  these  cases,  nothing  is  required  to  ac- 
count for  all  the  facts  beyond  the  direct  connection 
of  the  feelings  with  their  appropriate  manifestations. 
In  some  cases  the  steps  are  less  simple,  two  or  three 
more  remote  elements  come  in,  and  these  we  are 
ready  to  ascribe  to  the  presence  of  thought.  Thus, 
when  the  dog  has  made  a  raid  on  a  neighbor's  flock, 
he  may  hide  away  in  fear.  We  at  once  say  he  is  con- 
scious of  his  guilt,  is  ashamed,  and  does  not  therefore 
venture  near  his  master.  Yet  his  whole  experience 
has  been  such  as  to  fasten  together  these  two  expe- 
riences, an  attack  on  sheep,  and  the  fear  of  man.  It 
is-  not  strange,  then,  that  the  one  should  strongly 
revive  the  other.  The  animal  has  quick,  alert  senses, 
and  a  retentive  memory.  It  must  happen  again  and 
again  in  its  experience  that  two,  three,  four  states  or 
actions  should  occur  and  recur  in  a  fixed  order  ;  these 
the  memory  so  binds  into  one  bundle,  that  the  first 
of  them  draws  after  it  the  remainder  in  an  automatic 
way.  A  fly  annoys  the  flank  of  a  horse  ;  he  is  hitched 
short,  and  makes  an  ineffectual  effort  to  strike  it ;  in 
sheer  restlessness  he  steps  up  and  then  snaps  his 
teeth  on  the  vexatious  insect.  This  is  done  several 
times,  and  shortly,  the  connection  established,  he 
spontaneously  steps  forward  before  closing  on  his 
adversary,  thus  saving   his  jaws  a  superfluous  and 


life;  its  nature  and  origin. — the  mind.     235 

painful  jerk.  How  inevitable  is  it,  that  man,  with 
whom  almost  all  mental  activity  is  one  of  thought, 
should  explain  these,  like,  and  more  complicated 
actions,  as  the  result  of  thinking  ?  Yet  animal  life 
is  doubtless  as  homogeneous  as  our  own,  and  either 
the  most  of  its  activities  are  guided  by  thought,  or 
none  of  them  are  so  directed.  Thought,  if  possible, 
can  hardly  play  a  wholly  secondary  and  subordinate 
part.  Now  the  great  mass  of  activity,  almost  the 
entire  mass  of  it  in  animal  life,  calls  for  no  other  ex- 
planation, suggests  no  other,  than  this  of  spontaneous 
association.  This  being  conceded,  we  see  also  that 
pure  associations  must,  in  some  cases,  be  adequate 
to  results  which,  taken  by  themselves,  we  should 
very  naturally  attribute  to  thought.  Is  it  not,  then, 
more  philosophical  to  suppose  that  these  are  the 
highest  attainments  of  association  than  indications 
of  totally  different  powers,  that  nowhere  appear  in 
the  bulk  of  action  ?  The  way  in  which  the  parrot, 
the  elephant,  the  horse  are  trained  by  repeated  and 
fixed  associations  ;  the  speedy  and  decided  limits 
which  their  education  reaches  ;  the  fact  that  that 
which  has  the  appearance  of  thought  often  passes  by 
descent  from  parent  to  offspring,  as  the  good  qualities 
of  a  game-dog  ;  the  almost  instantaneous  and  certain 
way  in  which  the  young  of  animals  suit  all  their  ac-" 
tions  to  objects  and  spaces,  in  a  method  far  beyond 
what  is  possible  to  thought ;  the  easy  manner  in 
which  association  can  be  made  to  explain  instances 
of  skill,  at  first  sight  difficult  of  solution  ;  together 
with  the  fact,  that  we  project  our  own  forms  of  action 
downward  on  the  brute,  interpreting  his  experience 


236  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

by  ours  ;  and  also  that  we  multiply,  highly  color,  and 
exaggerate  stories  of  brute  sagacity  without  careful 
inquiry  into  the  form  of  the  facts  and  the  connections 
indicated  by  them,  these  and  like  considerations  lead 
us  to  believe,  that  the  proof  that  animals  think  is  insuf- 
ficient, and,  as  the  burden  of  the  argument  lies  with 
those  who  attribute  powers,  that  the  philosophical 
conclusion  remains,  animals  do  not  think,  the  ration- 
alizing, the  intuitive,  element  is  wanting  in  them. 

If  this  be  true,  then  man  takes  rank  at  once  in  a 
new  grade  of  beings  ;  to  life-power  is  added  thought- 
power,  and  the  rational  element  is  superinduced  on 
the  vital  element  as  wholly  above  and  beyond  it. 
Some  strange,  abnormal  facts  look  toward  this  result, 
such  as  the  well-established  one  of  two  distinct  phases 
of  character  and  of  consciousness,  apparently  diverse 
personalities,  appearing  successively  in  connection 
with  the  same  body.  This  independence  and  supe- 
riority of  the  soul  prepare  the  way  for  a  belief  in  its 
immortality,  and  enter  to  confirm  the  argument  from 
its.  moral  nature  and  law. 

Such,  then,  are  the  two  variable,  spontaneous,  spir- 
itual powers  which  appear  everywhere  at  work  in  the 
world,  those  of  life  and  of  mind.  The  way  in  which 
they  touch  the  physical  being  is  inscrutable.  They 
always  arise  under,  and  act  through,  its  forms,  yet 
reach  results  not  only  beyond  these  forms,  but  in  the 
very  teeth  of  them,  as  shown  in  other  connections. 
Life  stands  in  most  varied  and  immediate  relations 
with  physical  forces,  while  mind  acts  through  it  and 
by  it  in  its  highest  forms.  Life  works  matter  up  to 
the  conditions  required  by  mind,  and  yields  its  own 


LIFE  ;    ITS  NATURE  AND  ORIGIN. THE  MIND.       237 

best  products  to  its  possession.  So  strangely,  yet  so 
undeniably,  are  the  visible  and  the  invisible  interlaced  ; 
so  deeply,  even  in  its  finite  forms,  does  spiritual 
power  sink  down  into  material  forces  ;  so  marvel- 
lously are  material  forces  put  in  delicate  balance,  and 
play  under  the  intangible  thoughts  of  our  intangible 
intellectual  life.  Mystery  can  go  no  further ;  yet 
deny  this  mystery,  so  sustained  by  all  that  we  know 
of  ourselves  and  of  the  external  world,  and  we  do  not 
dispel  the  darkness,  we  only  diffuse  it,  till  night  set- 
tles upon  all,  and  even  the  phenomenal  world,  the 
facts  of  matter  and  the  facts  of  mind,  blend  back  again 
into  confusion  and  chaos.  Wisdom  lies  in  putting 
mystery  at  the  right  points ;  in  making  the  night 
the  forerunner  of  the  day. 


LECTURE   X. 

INTERACTION    OF    PHYSICAL    FORCES    AND    SPIRITUAL 

POWERS. 

We  have  now  explored  the  two  distinct  fields  of 
inquiry  offered  us  by  our  regulative  ideas,  those  of 
matter  and  those  of  mind.  We  have  discussed  the 
laws  and  the  sources  of  the  phenomena  of  each. 
Matter  gives  us  fixed,  conditioned,  permanent  forces, 
whose  law  of  interaction  is  causation,  and  whose 
abode  is  space.  Mind  gives  us  variable,  spontaneous 
powers  ;  spontaneous  in  that  there  is  not  present 
permanent  or  transmitted  force,  but  power  in  its  very 
exercise  springing  into  being ;  variable  in  that  it  is 
not  conditioned  to  one  degree  or  grade  of  expression, 
but  only  restricted  to  a  certain  circle  of  results.  The 
foreshadowing,  the  adumbration,  of  this  power  of  the 
soul  is  the  power  of  life.  This,  in  its  simplest  forms, 
presents  its  entire  phenomena  in  the  physical  world, 
yet  is  itself  nowhere  to  be  found  as  a  distinct  phys- 
ical force.  In  its  superior  forms,  it  is  accompanied 
with  the  rudimentary  conditions  of  mental  life,  though 
wanting  its  central  feature.  The  law  of  spiritual 
phenomena  is,  in  the  power  implied,  that  of  freedom  ; 
is,  in  the  direction  enjoined,  that  of  virtue.  The 
spontaneous  and  the  free  in  mind,  the  thoughts  and 
the  volitions,  so  play  into  each  other,  that  the  whole 
structure  of  our  life  comes  at  length  to  be  that  which 
the   soul,  by  its   own  choice,  has  shaped  for   itself. 


INTERACTION    OF    PHYSICAL    FORCES,    ETC.       239 

The  spontaneous  impulses  are  soon  wholly  expended 
in  the  directions  and  at  the  duties  the  voluntary  pow- 
ers lay  upon  them.  The  seat,  the  home,  of  these 
spiritual  facts,  is  consciousness. 

If,  in  matter,  we  found  a  steady, 'inscrutable  force 
back  of  all  phenomena,  whose  existence  and  main- 
tenance we  can,  without  theoretical  difficulty,  refer 
directly  to  God,  not  less  do  we  find  in  the  lives  vari- 
able and  restricted  powers,  which  suggest  his  imme- 
diate presence.  We  reason  here  also  from  the  results 
to  their  source,  and  we  thus  reach  a  flexible  power, 
with  limits  indeed  assigned  it,  but  not  one  expended 
in  a  fixed,  physical,  mechanical  way,  under  forces 
from  the  very  outset  fully  present.  Here  clearly 
appears  something  very  like  the  yielding,  change- 
able hand  of  personality.  In  the  human  mind,  we 
approach  a  power  of  a  still  different  character.  True, 
primary,  responsible  volition  is  only  possible  on  the 
supposition  of  independent  and  original  strength. 
The  very  act  of  choice,  if  it  be  what  it  purports  to  be, 
must  be  our  own,  as  God's  acts  are  his,  and  we 
become,  in  the  likeness  of  God,  centres  of  power  ; 
and,  through  the  forces  by  which  he  surrounds  us, 
and  into  which  our  powers  play,  able  to  give  new 
directions  and  efficiency  to  forces.  In  the  present 
lecture,  we  desire  to  mark  the  interdependence  of 
these  two  distinct  lines  of  activity,  those  which,  in 
the  sequence  of  physical  events,  are  fixed  and  causal, 
and  those  which,  in  the  liberty  of  volition,  are  sponta- 
neous and  changeable.  They  are  interwoven  by  con- 
stant conversion,  a  fact  of  mind  appearing  as  the 
product  of  a  physical  fact,  and  a  physical  fact  arising 


24O  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

as  the  result  of  a  mental  one ;  and  thus  they  flow  on 
together  in  distinct  fields,  yet  in  one  time. 

In  the  first  place,  we  see  that  these  two  forms  of 
phenomena,  with  both  of  which  we  seem  equally  fa- 
miliar, being  under  the  government  of  distinct  laws, 
diverse  notions,  require  each  to  be  steadily  considered 
subject  to  its  own  appropriate  ideas,  and  that  any 
transfer  of  these  can  only  breed  inexplicable  confu- 
sion. Knowledge,  like  the  human  body,  must  rest  on 
two  distinct  limbs,  correlatives  yet  diverse,  and  car- 
rying it  forward  by  alternate  rather  than  simultaneous 
movement.  Steadily  to  refer  physical  facts  in  their 
physical  relations,  to  causes,  to  forces  ;  and  spiritual 
facts  to  powers,  is  the  first  condition  of  maintaining 
the  completeness  and  integrity  of  our  knowledge. 
In  other  words,  we  must  see  how,  under  the  diagram 
of  our  intellectual  faculties,  our  original  ideas,  its  two 
fields  fall  apart,  and  are  to  be  searched  out  apart,  if 
searched  out  successfully. 

In  the  earlier  periods  of  knowledge,  confusion  pre- 
vails. Fortuity,  the  counterfeit  of  spontaneity,  is 
thought  to  enter  more  or  less  extensively  into  the. 
physical  world  ;  while  fatality,  the  counterfeit  of 
causality,  glides  up  into  the  connections  of  mind. 
Nor  is  this,  in  the  form  in  which  we  wish  to  put  it, 
an  overthrow  of  the  very  doctrine  of  regulative  ideas, 
grounded  as  these  are  on  the  necessary  convictions 
of  the  mind.  Physical  effects  as  physical  facts  have 
never  been  thought  to  be  without  causes,  but  have 
been  incautiously  referred  to  spiritual  agents  ;  neither 
have  those  practical  claims  and  duties  that  hinge  on 
liberty  ever  been  surrendered,  though  their  theoret- 


INTERACTION    OF    PHYSICAL    FORCES,    ETC.       24 1 

ical  foundations  have  been  obscured,  and  the  laws 
and  bounds  of  freedom  left  undefined.  Two  iorms 
of  the  mind's  action,  have  been  blended,  while  each 
with  equal  pertinacity  has  rejected  rejection,  and 
refused  annihilation. 

In  the  growth  of  knowledge,  as  inquiry  has  set  in 
the  one  direction  or  in  the  other,  has  causation 
or  liberty  encroached  respectively  on  the  opposite 
ground,  philosophy  bringing  its  conclusions  to  the 
material  world,  or  science  forcing  its  laws  upon  mind. 
In  the  present  and  previous  century  the  scientific 
tendency  has  been  too  strong  for  philosophy,  and 
materialism,  the  bowing  of  all  events  to  necessity, 
the  reduction  of  all  powers  to  the  grade  of  forces,  has 
been  prevalent.  Working  in  an  opposite  direction, 
idealism  has  more  rarely  evaporated  the  material 
wrorld  into  a  majestic  cloud-scene,  sent  it  all  buoyant, 
airy,  flexible  into  the  heavens  of  its  own  conceptions, 
and  then  sported  with  its  facts,  fraying  them  into 
fleecy  thinness,  or  piling  them  up  in  heavy  masses, 
as  the  playful  winds  of  thought  chanced  to  come  and 
go.  But  these  victories  of  mind  in  its  laws  over 
matter  have  been  so  rare  and  harmless,  as  to  have 
but  little  practical  significance,  at  least  for  English- 
men. The  chief  points  of  discussion  which  pertain 
to  the  interaction  of  mind  and  matter  have  arisen 
against  materialism,  in  its  effort  to  sweep  over  and 
submerge  the  entire  province  of  the  soul,  to  roll  its 
own  sullen  waves  in  cheerless  requiem  from  pole  to 
pole.  Water  and  air  are  fit  emblems  of  materialism 
and  idealism,  each  struggling  either  to  overwhelm 
or  to  vail  the  solid  land  with  its  own  by-play  of 
11 


242  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

forces,  the  one  taking  it  back  into  the  darkness  and 
death  beneath  it,  the  other  hiding  from  it  the  light 
above  it. 

The  spirit  of  materialism  early  reveals  itself  in 
connection  with  miracles.  Why  are  all  physicists  so 
hostile  to  miracles  ?  Plainly  because  these  are  a 
rent  in  the  seamless  garment  of  universal  law ;  an 
appearance  of  the  ghost  of  slaughtered  liberty,  of 
banished  personality ;  a  breaking  in  again  of  those 
very  conceptions  and  powers  which  it  has  been  the 
painstaking  and  protracted  labor  of  science  to  expel. 
There  is  a  certain  instinctive  antipathy,  a  nervous 
and  morbid  apprehension  of  all  that  looks  toward  the 
miraculous,  on  the  part  of  physicists.  They  scorn 
and  hiss  it ;  they  chafe  at  it,  and  are  nettled  by  it,  as 
the  unspeakable  incredulity,  the  infatuated  ignorance 
of  men,  refusing  to  be  weaned  from  the  past,  ever 
ready  to  slip  into  former  faults  and  fooleries,  gravi- 
tating with  the  momentum  of  protracted  habit  and 
pertinacious  associations,  towards  the  blind  fears  and 
hopes,  the  irrational  alarms  and  expectations,  of 
barbarism.  Men  will  not  cease  to  be  children,  and 
shake  off  the  phantom  beings,  the  fleshless  spirits,  of 
the  nursery.  An  antecedent  conviction  so  strong 
takes  possession  of  the  merely  scientific  mind  against 
miracles,  that  no  proof  is  sufficient  to  overcome  it, 
and  very  little  proof  sufficient  even  to  call  for  an 
examination.  A  certain  indignation  and  scorn  seizes 
at  once  on  the  mind  at  the  very  idea  that  men  will 
be  at  their  old  tricks,  fools  forever.  The  conflict  is 
regarded  not  as  one  between  theory  and  theory,  but 
between  keen-eyed  science  and  dull-eyed  ignorance, 


INTERACTION    OF    PHYSICAL    FORCES,    ETC.       243 

stupid  credulity  ;  as  the  withstanding  of  a  washed  sow 
bent  again  on  the  mire. 

So  many  have  felt  the  force  of  this  new  sentiment, 
coming  forward  under  the  endorsement  of  science,  of 
careful,  historical  and  critical  inquiry,  boasting  the 
progress  of  the  past  centuries  as  its  own  achievement, 
the  emancipation  of  mind  as  its  own  labor,  that  even 
those  who  have  maintained  their  belief  in  miracles 
have  sometimes  done  it  with  such  qualifications  and 
concessions  and  apologies  as  to  destroy  the  true  char- 
acter of  these  more  manifest  works  of  God.  A  mir- 
acle purports  to  stand,  and  must,  if  a  true  miracle, 
stand  in  direct  intervention  of  natural  law.  It  is  an 
extraordinary,  not  an  ordinary,  method  of  working ; 
one  that  manifestly  transcends  those  limits  which 
God  has  established  between  his  own  activity  and 
those  of  his  creatures. 

To  say,  therefore,  that  a  miracle  may  be  the  result 
of  another  law  of  nature,  striking  in  at  remote*  peri- 
ods, like  the  alarm  of  a  clock,  provided  for  in  the 
original  structure  to  meet  certain  exigencies  at  cer- 
tain intervals,  is  at  once  to  destroy  its  intrinsic  char- 
acter, and  pervert  its  moral  power.  It  is  no  longer  a 
miracle,  as  indicating  the  descent  of  Divine  power  on 
nature,  hut  simply  discloses  a  new  and  more  intricate 
way  in  which  his  power  is  locked  up  in,  and  condi- 
tioned to,  nature.  Thus  the  miracle,  stripped  of  the 
significance  it  purports  at  the  time  to  have,  becomes 
dishonest  and  deceptive,  a  reproach  to  the  credulity 
of  those  who  accept  it,  and  a  shame  to  the  integrity 
of  him  who  employs  it.  A  miracle  towers  straight 
up   into  the   heavens,  cleaves  through    natural  law, 


244  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

parts  it  on  either  hand,  as  the  rod  of  Moses  the  Red 
Sea,  or  it  is  nothing,  nay,  worse  than  nothing,  a  delu- 
sion and  a  superstition.  We  wish,  at  least  in  attitude, 
to  confront  squarely  this  scientific  sentiment  against 
miracles,  and  to  take  what  blows  it  can  give.  We 
wish  to  carry  this  controversy  to  the  court  of  reason, 
and  press  a  decision  there.  We  are  not  fearful  of  the 
issue,  we  only  desire  to  precipitate  it. 

Under  the  conjoint  scheme  of  science  and  philoso- 
phy now  laid  down,  we  see  that  the  miracle  stands  in 
perfect  sympathy  with  one  half  of  the  constitution  of 
the  world.  In  mind  we  have  spontaneous,  free,  crea- 
tive power,  a  power  of  a  strictly  supernatural  charac- 
ter. If  we  define  nature  as  covering  those  events 
which  occur  under  fixed,  invariable  law,  making  it 
coextensive  with  the  physical  world,  then  the  mind 
of  man  is  supernatural.  Its  activities  are  not  condi- 
tioned to  any  specific  results.  If  we  define  nature  as 
a  term  applicable  to  all  events,  whether  of  a  material 
or  spiritual  character,  which  are  familiar,  which  con- 
stitute a  part  of  our  ordinary  experience,  then  the 
mind  is  not  a  supernatural  agent  ;  but  while  found 
within  nature,  is  yet  perfectly  allied  to  that  supernat- 
ural agency  which  the  miracle  discloses  out  of  nature. 
One  half,  then,  of  the  kingdom  of  knowledge  is  in 
perfect  accord  with  miraculous  intervention,  indeed 
exhibits  a  perpetual  intrusion  of  mind  upon  matter 
of  essentially  the  same  nature.  It  is  not  till  we  have 
taken  the  material  world  as  the  starting  point  of  our 
inquiries,  and  resolved  to  rule  out  and  overrule  all 
laws  from  other  kingdoms  of  thought  by  the  private 
statutes  and  by-laws  of  this  kingdom,  that  we  have 


INTERACTION    OF    PHYSICAL    FORCES,    ETC.       245 

any  ground  whatever  for  the  feeling  which  leads  to 
the  exclusion  of  miracles.  Get  back  to  mind,  plant 
one  foot  on  philosophy  and  only  one  on  science,  and 
then  these  prejudgments  rise,  disperse,  hide  them- 
selves in  clear  air,  like  morning  mists,  and  we  wonder 
that  conceptions,  the  merely  transient  product  of  the 
moral  temperature,  could  ever  have  so  perverted  and 
restricted  our  vision.  Let  the  damps  of  earth  lift,  let 
them  cease  to  linger  just  about  us,  passing  upward 
they  shall  conceal  nothing,  shall  show  deep  rifts  into 
the  blue  beyond,  cut  off  gratefully  from  us  the  too 
intense  light,  and  disclose  a  diversified  and  cheerful 
landscape. 

If  our  conception  of  force  as  God's  conditioned 
and  established,  yet  direct  and  immediate,  activity  is 
admissible,  certainly  a  miracle  can  find  easy  way 
into  nature.  Let  his  force  strengthen  itself  or  with- 
draw itself,  and  the  work  is  done.  Some  may  feel 
that  there  is  a  profounder  objection  to  miracles  in  the 
character  of  God  ;  that  they  imply  variability,  fickle- 
ness, uncertainity  in  his  methods.  This  also  seems 
to  us  a  shallow,  inadequate  presentation  of  the  Divine 
nature.  We  object  to  it,  as  overlooking  the  fact  that 
there  are  two  parties  to  the  world — God  and  man. 
This  common  ground  of  intercourse  and  labor  does 
indeed  require  settled  laws,  unmistakable  and  inflex- 
ible conditions  ;  but  the  weak  faith  of  man  also  re- 
quires, lest  God  should  be  altogether  hidden  behind 
these  impersonal  rules,  manifest  intervention,  direct 
personal  revelation,  and  for  this  the  miracle  becomes 
a  necessary,  natural,  obvious  condition.  It  is  both 
wise  and   gracious,   it   is    neither  inconsiderate  nor 


246  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

changeable,  for  God  to  shape  his  actions  to  the  va- 
riable conditions  under  which  they  are  put  forth. 
We  have  little  sympathy  with  that  conception  of 
God  which  fears  to  set  him  about  any  one  thing  at 
any  one  time,  lest  it  should  limit  and  belittle  his  ac- 
tivity, and  proceeds  to  withdraw  him  into  the  eternity 
and  immutability  of  his  purposes,  to  make  of  him  a 
still,  deep  ocean  of  potential  being,  that  cannot  ripple 
lest  it  break  its  own  infinite  repose,  and  shiver  into 
a  million  facets  its  now  unperturbed,  homogeneous 
reflection.  An  Infinite  One  that  cannot  accept  his 
own  acts  lest  he  be  broken  up  and  lost  in  them,  that 
looks  more  to  the  statics  than  the  dynamics  of  being, 
is  not  the  Jehovah  of  our  thoughts.  A  God  that 
lives  and  feels  in  every  act  is  more  to  our  intellects, 
and  every  way  more  to  our  hearts,  than  this  passion- 
less potentiality. 

The  secondary  and  transient  office  of  miracles  in 
the  economy  of  the  world,  however,  may  rightly  be 
urged.  They  break  ground  for  faith,  but  they  are 
not  the  condition  of  permanent  faith.  They  are  like 
those  slight  shocks  which  precipitate  crystalline  ac- 
tion, or  those  initiatory  changes  which  unlock  chem- 
ical affinities.  Miracles  help  the  mind  to  a  momen- 
tary finding  of  God,  but  we  learn  otherwise  how  to 
abide  in  his  presence.  The  miracle  must  always 
remand  us  to  the  natural  law  under  which  we  are  to 
remain  on  a  permanent,  hourly  footing  of  intercourse 
with  Heaven.  If  miracles,  ostensible  miracles,  lapse 
into  a  series  of  wonders,  into  growing  and  multiplying 
prodigies,  they  soon  intoxicate  the  mind,  make  of  its 
faith  a  wild  delirium,  destroy  the  health  and  repose 


INTERACTION    OF    PHYSICAL    FORCES,    ETC.       247 

of  the  soul,  and  leave  it  bereft  not  only  of  strength, 
but  of  its  antecedent  conditions.  Nothing  so  shat- 
ters and  shakes  into  paralysis  the  spiritual  constitu- 
tion as  repeated  and  ever-returning  shocks  of  the 
marvellous.  There  must  be,  there  always  will  be,  a 
growth  out  of  miracles  and  the  need  of  them  into  the 
calm  possession  of  God,  in  his  habitual  and  most 
expressive  forms  of  action.  An  electric  current  may 
perhaps  quicken  the  sluggish  wheels  of  life,  it  cannot 
remain  the  permanent  condition  of  well-being.  The 
intense  light  of  the  miracle  is  flashed  into  nature, 
only  that  we  may  commence  our  study  of  it,  and  feel 
henceforth  and  forever  that  it  is  God's  wisdom  and 
love  that  are  everywhere  here.  It  is  the  single  pres- 
sure of  the  clasping  hand,  the  transient  light  of  the 
earnest  eye,  that  throws  in  upon  us  the  love  of  an- 
other soul,  ordinarily  shown  in  a  grave,  diligent  re- 
gard of  our  habitual  wants. 

A  second  point  in  the  interaction  of  material  forces 
and  spiritual  powers  is  that  of  prayer.  We  have  not 
yet  discussed  the  being  and  nature  of  God.  The 
reality  of  our  faith  in  him  being  assumed,  it  is  evident 
that  the  method  in  which  prayer  is,  or  at  least  may 
be,  answered,  involves  again  the  relation  of  these  two 
lines  of  events.  From  this  question  the  physicist, 
however,  excuses  himself.  It  does  not  present  that 
plain,  bold,  historical  front  which,  in  the  case  of  mir- 
acles, precludes  neglect.  The  answer  of  prayer  is  a 
matter  exclusively  of  individual  faith  ;  and  interests, 
therefore,  chiefly  the  religious  mind.  The  purely 
scientific  thinker  looks  upon  it,  at  least  as  ordinarily 
held,  as  an  impossibility,  and  lightly  dismisses  the 


248  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

subject.  Here,  again,  the  distinctive,  physical  senti- 
ment has  so  found  its  way  beyond  halls  of  science  into 
the  precincts  and  courts  of  religion,  that  some  of  her 
teachers  are  willing  to  say,  that  the  answer  of  prayer 
is  another  constitutional  trick  of  the  machine,  and 
that  natural  laws,  in  their  first  adjustment,  contem- 
plate and  provide  for  it.  This  view  is  so  forced  as  to 
be  essentially  absurd.  The  very  notion  of  a  law  is 
that  it  is  inflexible,  that  it  pursues  one  course  of 
action  ;  indeed  it  is  nothing  but  the  statement  of 
such  a  fact.  A  law,  therefore,  is  of  the  nature  of  a 
straight  line  ;  and  no  straight  line,  and  no  series  of 
parallel  straight  lines,  can  be  made  to  pass  through 
all  possible  points,  located  at  random.  Yet  the  peti- 
tions of  men,  in  reference  to  the  provisions  of  nature, 
are  such  chance  positions,  such  accidental,  discon- 
nected points.  No  consistent,  independent  system 
can  cover  them,  any  more  than  a  definite  curve  can 
sweep  through  all  spaces.  Either,  therefore,  the 
natural  law  must  be  conditioned  to  the  prayers  of 
men,  and  suffer  their  irregularity,  or  the  prayers  of 
men  must  be  conditioned  to  the  law,  and  thus  for- 
feit their  own  freedom.  The  two  things,  necessity 
and  liberty,  a  fixed  and  a  free  sequence,  cannot  both 
rest  on  the  same  basis.  They  must  maintain  their 
independent  relation,  or  one  be  swallowed  up  of  the 
other. 

This  view  also  gives  a  new  and  false  coloring  to 
the  act  of  prayer.  The  petition  is  for  that  which  is 
predetermined  and  necessary,  and  the  answer  fol- 
lows in  no  sense  from  the  prayer.  Thus  what  comes 
to  the  surface  for  the  eye  and  faith  of  the  believer 


INTERACTION    OF    PHYSICAL    FORCES,    ETC.       249 

is  quite  different  from  the  real  facts,  quite  opposite 
to  them.  Prayer  seems  to  be  a  means  of  getting 
near  to  God,  but  is  not ;  and  our  too  credulous  belief 
flings  over  it  a  deceitful  light.  The  answer  of  prayer, 
both  on  moral  and  scientific  grounds,  both  as  a  matter 
of  honesty  and  of  sagacity,  must  be  upheld  as  a  direct 
intervention  of  God  in  favor  of  the  suppliant,  or 
must  be  abandoned.  An  answer  to  prayer  which 
pertains  to  physical  events,  so  far  as  these  are  not  in 
the  hand  of  man,  must  be  of  the  nature  of  a  miracle, 
with  this  important  difference,  that  the  one  openly 
transcends  the  powers  of  nature,  and  the  other  does 
not.  The  one  is  thus  a  matter  of  common  and  pub- 
lic significance,  the  other  of  individual  faith  only. 
In  our  day  it  is  thought  to  savor  of  weakness  and  su- 
perstition to  believe  in  a  direct,  supernatural  answer 
to  prayer,  and  the  individual  convictions  of  a  multi- 
tude of  intelligent  people,  their  settled,  frequently 
verified,  private  faith,  productive  in  them  of  none  of 
the  fruits  of  superstition,  but  quite  the  reverse,  pos- 
sess scarcely  a  feather's  weight  in  the  estimation  of 
those  who  propose  to  put  this  question  on  a  truly  sci- 
entific basis.  Sad  is  it  that  these  words,  a  scientific 
basis,  should  have  such  a  one-sided  bearing ;  that 
unbelief  should  have  made  of  them  the  favorite  cant 
for  the  introduction  of  its  own  dogmas  ;  that  a  spirit 
of  investigation,  that  is  so  skillful  with  the  micro- 
scope, magnifying  all  things  close  at  hand,  should  be 
so  awkward  with  the  telescope,  bringing  near  that 
.which  is  afar  off.  Sad  is  it  that  alleged  spiritual  facts 
do  not  even  claim  consideration,  have  lost  respecta- 
bility and  repute,  are,  when  they  seek  admission,  su- 
11* 


250  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

perciliously  nodded  into  the  street  again,  as  of  too 
erratic,  flighty  and  decayed  a  cast  to  occupy  time — 
the  time  of  these  sagacious,  practical  men,  this  last 
nobility  of  knowledge,  who  have  the  world  now  in 
hand,  its  molecules  and  its  masses,  its  ways  above 
and  below,  past  and  to  come,  and  are  thus  busy  while 
the  day  lasts  ;  as  if  truth  were  only  the  present  at- 
mosphere in  which  intellectual  ephemera  float,  to  be 
followed  by  like  ephemera,  playing  in  a  like  way,  in 
like  fickle  sunshine.  This  assumption  of  all  reason  by 
short-sighted  science,  that  compensates  the  fine  dis- 
closure it  gives  of  the  passing  hour,  by  the  utterly 
blind  way  in  which  it  stumbles  on  to  the  final  event, 
and  falls  into  the  abyss  beyond,  is  the  folly,  the  nar- 
rowness, the  bigotry  of  our  time. 

We  need  to  be  at  no  loss  to  see  how  prayer  is  an- 
swered. The  forces  of  the  world  are  not  so  weighed 
up  and  stamped,  like  mint-bags,  that  nothing  can 
be  added  to  them  or  substracted  from  them.  If 
these,  each  and  all,  are  united  instantly,  freshly, 
every  moment,  morning  by  morning,  evening  by 
evening,  to  their  tasks  under  the  hand  of  God,  may 
he  not  grade  them  to  the  wants  of  his  children  ?  and 
do  not  these  wants  call  for  fixedness  on  this  side, 
and  flexibility  on  that  ?  Is  it  not  as  irrational  to  ask 
for  nothing  as  to  ask  for  all  things  ?  If  indolence 
and  thoughtlessness  are  the  products  of  an  ill- 
grounded  faith,  that  flings  itself  blindly  on  spiritual 
powers,  are  not  love,  strength,  consolation  the  rich 
fruits  of  a  sense  of  God's  presence  and  aid  ?  What 
nobler  lesson,  striking  upward  to  the  intellect  and 
downward  to  the  heart,  outward  to  the  actions  and 


INTERACTION    OF    PHYSICAL    FORCES,    ETC.       25 1 

inward  to  the  affections,  imparting  the  power  of 
thought  and  the  repose  of  faith,  than  this  inquiry, 
What  in  nature  are  we  to  do,  and  what  aid  under 
God  are  we  to  have  in  the  doing  of  it ;  *how  are  its 
ordinary  and  its  extraordinary  liabilities  to  be  met  ? 
What  better  path  can  be  thrown  up  for  us,  with 
more  bracing  air  and  commanding  out-look,  than  this 
which  trends  along  the  narrow  ridge  between  the 
purely  natural  and  the  purely  supernatural,  between 
Nature  and  God,  Earth  and  Heaven,  disclosing  the 
forces  to  be  met  and  worked  with  there,  disclosing 
the  light,  the  promises,  the  powers  that  flow  in  upon 
us  here,  ready  for  a  spiritual,  a  truly  potent,  minis- 
tration in  our  behalf  ?  He  who  lifts  and  pries  in  the 
physical  world  alone,  whose  fulcrums  are  all  stone, 
and  cordage  all  hemp,  may  not  appreciate  this,  may 
come  from  his  own  discipline  a  tough,  sagacious, 
muscular  fellow,  that  one  is  reluctant  to  give  at  last 
as  food  to  the  worms  ;  but  he  who  has  philosophy  in 
him  as  well  as  science,  who  casts  the  light  of  his  own 
divinely  free  and  illumined  spirit  on  the  things  before 
him,  will  understand,  that  it  is  often  better  to  wait 
than  to  do,  to  trust  than  to  know,  to  pray  than  to 
labor,  and  that  the  power,  the  stroke  of  wing,  that 
bears  the  whole  man  upward  is  now  from  the  physical 
and  now  from  the  spiritual  side,  is  now  a  using  of 
what  God  gives  us,  is  now  a  waiting  on  him  for 
more.  It  were  a  strange  thing,  indeed,  if  the  minor 
virtues  and  conditions  of  intellectual  life  were  pro- 
vided for  ;  if  foresight,  patience,  industry  were  called 
forth  and  rewarded,  and  no  corresponding  address  to 
our  higher  affections,  no  provocation  to  our  spiritual 


252  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

emotions  were  found.  At  no  point  is  human  life 
more  blended  with  the  Divine  life,  more  drawn  up 
into  it,  than  at  this  point  of  prayer,  a  free  approach 
of  man  in  gratitude,  inquiry,  request  to  his  Maker. 

What  does  this  view  of  prayer  allow  us  to  ask  for  ? 
We  may  ask,  as  the  child  asks,  for  anything  that  we 
think  that  we  need,  which  is  not  within  the  reach  of 
our  own  exertion,  and  whose  bestowment  would  not 
evidently  contravene  a  natural  law.  In  gratification 
of  our  own  wants,  we  are  not  to  expect  miracles  ; 
since  this  would  involve  a  constant,  an  habitual  dis- 
regard of  those  very  limits  which  God  has  for  our 
well-being  assigned  to  his  action.  David  might  pray 
for  the  life  of  his  child,  while  the  child  lived,  not  for 
its  restoration  after  death.  Death  was  the  distinct 
expression  of  the  Divine  will.  There  is  nothing  com- 
plicated or  obscure  in  this  view.  We  stand  in  like 
conditions  before  God  as  before  an  earthly  parent. 
What  has  been  distinctly  refused  us,  we  may  not 
again  ask  for.  Will,  once  expressed,  is  to  be  final 
with  us.  Events  that  cannot  be  altered  without  a 
manifest  intervention  are  of  this  nature.  It  is  nothing 
to  us  that  what  we  ask  may  involve  a  modification  of 
natural  forces ;  these,  till  put  forth,  are  the  unexpres- 
sed thoughts  of  our  Heavenly  Father.  That  the  thing 
petitioned  is  precluded  by  forces  that  have  openly 
taken  effect  does  concern  us,  for  therein  is  found  the 
clearly  expressed  purpose  of  God.  Whatever  has 
passed  the  obvious  limits  of  natural  law  discloses  the 
will  of  God,  whatever  remains  within  those  limits  is 
as  yet  unpronounced. 

The  answers  we  receive  to  prayer  turn  wholly  on 


INTERACTION    OF    PHYSICAL    FORCES,    ETC.       253 

faith.  They  arise  under  the  disguise  of  natural  law, 
and  may  be  ascribed,  as  the  soul  is  inclined,  to  God's 
hand,  or  to  an  unusual  coincidence  of  causes.  We 
may  stand  in  them  before  nature  or  before  God  as 
we  please.  Indeed  the  truly  inspired  spirit  will  make 
no  difference  between  the  two.  To  it  nothing  is 
ordinary,  nothing  extraordinary,  in  God's  love  and 
intervention.  Prayer  springs  from  faith,  and  in  its 
answer  is  addressed  to  faith.  It  is  unto  us  according 
to  our  faith.  Prayer  is  capable  of  the  highest  use,  of 
the  easiest  abuse.  It  pertains  to  the  secrets  of  the 
soul,  its  living  walk  with  God,  and  subserves  a  living 
purpose  only  as  it  finds  God,  feels  his  strength,  and 
puts  that  strength  to  full  and  faithful  service.  The 
answer  of  prayer  lightens  not  the  labor  laid  on  us 
under  natural  laws,  nor  gives  us  the  presumption 
attendant  on  their  easy  arrest,  The  blessings  of 
prayer  must  descend  like  dew  on  growing  plants, 
must  come  as  refreshments  to  working  men,  before 
they  can  play  into  the  healthy,  spiritual  economy  of 
the  soul,  and  build  it  up. 

The  sciolist  will  most  assuredly  be  ready  to  deride 
this  view  of  prayer.  What,  does  God  play  fast  and 
loose  !  Are  forces  which  are  fixed  and  unchangeable 
for  science,  flexible  and  facile  to  faith  ?  Are  we  to 
believe  that  action  which  is  immutable,  perfectly  so, 
to  the  most  searching  observation,  becomes  beyond 
observation,  mutable,  bending  by  increase  and  by 
diminution  to  the  wants  and  wishes  of  men  ?  that 
faith  is  thus  called  on  to  fly  into  the  very  face  of 
scientific  thought  ?  Even  so,  we  answer,  and  we 
stand  before  the  judgment  of  reason.     How  the  scio- 


254  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

list  is  to  overrule  convictions  shaped  in  the  realm  of 
mind,  by  the  mere  inertia  of  opposite  convictions, 
shaped  among  physical  forces,  we  do  not  see.  The 
appeal  must  be  to  a  full  bench,  to  all  the  powers  of 
mind.  At  that  tribunal  it  may  seem  as  probable  that 
God  should  give  as  that  he  should  not  give,  that  he 
should  be  possessed  of  the  pliancy  of  personality  as 
of  the  rigidity  of  force. 

There  is  another  still"  more  recondite  interplay  of 
powers  in  the  world,  the  immediate  action  of  the 
Spirit  of  God  on  the  spirit  of  man.  To  this,  no  form 
of  experience  gives  us  a  clue.  So  thoroughly  do 
these  influences  form  an  invisible  world,  in  their  de- 
scent upon  us,  respect  the  integrity  of  our  own  men- 
tal structure  ;  so  entirely  conform  themselves  to  the 
appearances,  buoyancy  and  upward  lift  of  our  own 
thoughts,  that  they  are  no  more  alien,  abnormal  to 
the  mind  than  is  the  food  which  the  plant  gathers 
from  the  air  to  its  structure.  Indeed,  is  it  so  much 
more  wonderful  that  the  Spirit  may  come  close  to 
our  spiritual  life,  may  quicken  and  enliven  it,  than 
that  leaves,  floating  in  the  air,  can  be  with  it  in  such 
constant,  invisible  interchange  of  material,  drinking 
freely  deep  draughts  of  life  ?  What  pitiful,  blinding 
tricks  our  senses  play  upon  us,  if  we  are  to  believe 
and  conceive  nothing  which  they  have  not  confirmed  ; 
and  this,  while  they  leave  their  own  facts  more  than 
half  hidden  in  inscrutable  processes.  That  the  Spirit 
of  God  comes  near  to  man,  that  the  spirit  of  man, 
without  loss  of  freedom  or  the  least  sacrifice  of  its 
own  integrity,  comes  under  the  quickening  power  of 
this  interchange  of  life,  are  truths  of  such  scope  and 


INTERACTION    OF    PHYSICAL    FORCES,    ETC.       255 

quality  that  we  pick  them  not  up  in  the  streets, 
but  they  come  to  us  direct  from  Heaven,  are  of  so 
subtile,  vital  and  profound  a  character,  that  they  lie 
not  out  distinct,  separate  facts  in  our  experience,  but 
are  the  secret  and  substance  of  our  spiritual  life,  its 
daily  atmosphere. 

The  perpetual  descent  of  spiritual  powers  on  phys- 
ical forces  as  now  indicated  in  miracles,  in  answers  to 
prayer,  and,  indirectly,  in  the  influence  of  the  Divine 
Spirit  on  the  human  spirit,  we  are  disposed  neither  to 
limit  nor  disguise  in  statement ;  nor  pass  lightly  in 
discussion,  as  unable  to  endure  scrutiny ;  nor  to 
present  in  a  shame-faced  way,  as  if  it  were  the  weak- 
ness and  not  the  strength  of  our  creed.  We  are  not 
careful  to  inquire  who  do,  and  who  do  not,  regard  this 
constant,  natural  and  supernatural  presence  of  spirit- 
ual powers  in  the  world  as  a  good  joke  ;  or  who,  not 
willing  to  deny  it,  are  yet  anxious  to  refine  it  away  ; 
we  believe  it  to  be  the  soundest  of  the  conclusions 
of  philosophy,  and  the  holiest  of  truths. 

In  view  of  the  ground  gone  over  thus  far,  it  is  plain 
that  we  are  decidedly  right  or  as  decidedly  wrong ; 
that  in  cutting  straight  down  between  matter  and 
mind,,  and  between  the  conceptions  that  rule  in  the 
two  directions,  we  show  ground  and  reason  for  great 
diversity  in  men's  opinions,  according  as  they  allow 
one  or  another  class  of  ideas  to  overrule  the  mind. 
The  entire  attitude  of  the  physicist  is  made  perfectly 
plain,  nay,  seen  to  be  inevitable  from  the  moiety  of 
knowledge  to  which  he  confines  himself.  Start  the 
processes  of  thought  in  material  forces,  let  the  causal 
conceptions  there  applicable    grow  daily  in  power  ; 


256  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

let  the  perfect  solutions  these  offer  of  all  physical 
facts  be  dwelt  on,  and  increasingly  admired  ;  let  the 
facts  of  philosophy  remain  strange,  remote,  unfamiliar, 
obscure  to  the  thoughts,  and  how  certain  is  it,  that 
spiritual  conceptions  will  become  more  and  more 
attenuated,  till  they  vanish  altogether.  Men  occa- 
sionally modify  the  superstructure  of  thought,  but  do 
not  often  meddle  with  its  foundations.  Let  these 
foundations,  therefore,  be  laid  in  the  material  world 
alone,  and  the  longer  they  think,  the  more  they  in- 
quire, revolving  in  one  round  of  conceptions,  the 
more  certainly  do  they  depart  from  those  initial 
ideas,  whose  presence  and  explanatory  power  can 
alone  make  the  phenomena  of  the  spiritual  world  real 
and  rational.  For  this  tendency,  blindly  taken  up 
and  blindly  pursued,  there  is  no  remedy,  but  sound, 
mental  science,  and  starting  points  taken  in  a  new 
field,  and  followed  to  new  conclusions.  That  con- 
tempt for  metaphysics  should  accompany  an  exclusive 
cultivation  of  physics  is  as  natural  as  that  the  costume 
of  a  strange  people  should  seem  grotesque  to  us.  He 
who,  living  on  one  side  of  the  globe,  knows  nothing 
of  the  other,  must  have  restricted,  inadequate  and 
inflexible  conceptions  of  it.  Look  straight  forward 
at  the  landscape  before  you :  invert  the  head  and 
look  again.  The  scene  is  strangely  softened,  a  fascin- 
ation, a  dreamy,  celestial  unreality  has  stolen  over  it. 
Raise  the  head,  and  back  slide  the  fields  and  forests 
and  valleys  to  their  common-place  appearance.  It  is 
as  if  you  had  caught  on  the  face  of  a  friend  a  sudden 
flash  of  inspiration.  Such  are  the  variable  aspects  of 
nature  under  slight  changes,  but  much  more  subtile 


INTERACTION    OF    PHYSICAL    FORCES,    ETC.       257 

and  significant  are  those  diverse  phases  of  intellectual 
light  which  steal  over  the  fields  of  knowledge,  and 
make  of  them,  now  the  safe  grazing  ground  of  the 
senses,  now  the  wild  haunts  of  weird  thoughts,  and 
now  celestial  plains,  checkered  far  and  wide  with 
heavenly  beauty.  The  exclusively  scientific  tendency 
of  our  day,  we  challenge,  as  it  forces  its  way  into  the 
departments  of  philosophy  and  religion  ;  we  remand 
it  back  to  its  labors,  back  to  the  tasks  assigned  it, 
assured  that  the  conceit  of  its  great  successes  there 
will  make  it  here  only  the  more  dangerous,  dogmatic 
and  intractable. 

On  the  other  hand,  to  one  who  starts  the  fruitful 
movements  of  thought  in  contemplating  the  phenom- 
ena of  mind,  who  establishes  the  ideas  that  rule  here, 
and  makes  them  familiar  to  the  understanding,  there 
not  only  appears  no  improbability  in  this  interde- 
pendence of  spiritual  powers  and  physical  forces,  but 
that  the  last  should  escape  from  under  the  first,  the 
less  from  the  greater,  seems  to  him  a  conception 
impossible  and  absurd.  That  matter  should  set  up 
as  against  mind  to  plan  and  make  and  rule  a  universe, 
to  put  form  and  force  into  it,  is  as  if  the  dog  should 
command  his  master,  or  as  if  the  satire  of  Swift 
should  prove  true,  and  the  horse  turn  out  to  be  the 
man.  What,  we  pray  to  know,  is  mind,  finite  and 
infinite  to  do,  but  rule  over  matter  ?  Or  what  else 
is  it  evidently  doing  day  by  day  ?  We  can  give  no 
other  interpretation  to  all  that  we  see  about  us,  but 
this  very  interpretation,  of  the  supremacy  of  the  soul 
in  the  body,  and  through  the  body  in  the  world. 
Liberty,  spontaneous  power,  bound  to  no  causal  con- 


258  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

nections,  but  using  these  as  occasion  offers,  these 
are  the  conceptions  and  this  the  experience  with 
which  we  are  familiar,  and  that  God  should  work  in 
a  like  way  in  a  universe,  yet  more  immediately  in  his 
hand,  is  as  much  a  matter  of  course  as  our  own  vari- 
able plans  for  the  day  and  freedom  in  their  execution. 
The  pregnant  question,  then,  comes,  Which  of  these 
two  classes  of  thinkers  have  reason  with  them  ?  It 
is  not  difficult  to  decide  to  which  the  vast  majority 
of  men  have  belonged  ;  but  the  self-confident  physi- 
cist, sure  of  his  new  ground,  distinctly  advances,  like 
Spencer,  this  fact,  that  the  masses  of  men  have  be- 
lieved otherwise,  as  a  reason  which  makes  for  the 
minority.  Old  and  antiquated  are  synonymous  in 
the  vocabulary  of  the  sciolist.  Religion  and  super- 
stition are  different  sides  of  the  same  thing,  while 
metaphysics  are  the  last  retreat  and  hiding-place  of 
all  blind  beliefs. 

In  this  last  conviction,  the  materialist  is  so  far  cor- 
rect, that  out  of  philosophy  has  come,  and  will  con- 
tinue to  come,  those  conceptions  which  are  to  plague 
him  more  and  more.  Reason  lies  with  him,  if  the 
mind,  in  its  own  phenomena,  as  a  distinct  and  pe- 
culiar fact,  is  to  be  overlooked  ;  and  matter  be  made 
to  furnish  out  the  entire  universe  with  its  laws. 
Reason  lies  with  us,  if  the  seat  of  reason  is  in  the 
mind,  if  what  it  believes  of  itself  is  equally  true  with 
that  which  it  believes  of  matter,  if  it  may  be  pre- 
sumed to  know  as  much  of  its  own  principles  as  of 
those  which  rule  in  the  external  world,  and  is  as 
competent  to  recognize  its  own  nature  and  activities 
as  those  of  material  objects.     In  short,  metaphysics 


INTERACTION    OF    PHYSICAL    FORCES,    ETC.       259 

must  be  swept  away,  the  inadequacy  of  the  mind's 
own  action,  its  interpretation  of  its  own  phenomena 
in  its  own  field  be  shown,  and  that  too  by  the  mind 
itself,  as  a  condition  of  the  triumph  of  the  physical 
tendency.  Our  thoughts  must  stultify  themselves, 
confess  their  own  unsoundness,  before  they  can  be 
bound  over  to  the  external  world. 

It  is,  then,  in  the  field  of  philosophy  that  the  bat- 
tle is  to  be  fought,  and  the  first  inquiry  which  an 
earnest  searcher  into  these  foundations  of  truth  must 
put  to  himself  is,  What  are  the  grounds  of  rational 
conviction  ?  This  question  carries  him  at  once  to 
the  mind  for  an  answer,  and  if  he  accepts,  as  he 
must  and  should  accept,  all  of  its  persistent  action, 
its  fixed  forms  of  assertion,  as  ultimate,  as  equally 
authoritative,  then  his  next  question  becomes,  What 
are  these  ?  If  at  length  he  makes  answer,  as  we 
have  made  answer,  They  are  the  senses,  they  are  the 
intuitions,  they  are  the  understanding,  each  with  a 
form  of  knowing,  each  supreme  in  that  form,  he  at 
length  finds  himself  planted  squarely  on  the  physical 
and  the  spiritual  worlds,  and  their  junction  and  inter- 
course inevitable.  The  inquiry,  then,  With  whom 
rests  the  balance  of  reason,  the  materialist  or  realist, 
in  their  diverse  views  of  the  facts  of  the  world? 
finds  an  answer  in  the  comparative  breadth,  scope 
and  correctness  of  the  philosophies  that  underlie  the 
two  systems.  The  arbitrament  is  here,  here  is  the 
appeal,  from  this  court  must  come  forth  the  final  ver- 
dict. No  complaint  is  made  of  Mill,  Spencer,  Bain, 
that  they  do  not  carry  the  case  up  to  philosophy,  that 
they  suppose,  with  their  feeble  and  remote  followers, 


260  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

that  this  tribunal  is  abolished  ;  but  that  their  phil- 
osophy is  partial  and  unsound,  that  they  use  the 
mind  to  destroy  the  mind  rather  than  to  unfold  in 
ull  force  its  faculties,  that  they  take  sides  against  the 
mind,  and  make  a  point  of  its  alleged  weaknesses. 
The  very  powers  they  so  dexterously  wield,  the  bold 
way  in  which  they  strike  out  against  their  own  inde- 
pendent, spiritual  being,  remain  a  proof  for  that  being 
more  unanswerable  than  the  proofs  by  them  offered 
asrainst  it. 

If  it  now  be  asked,  since  the  point  at  which  this 
balance  of  reason  rests  is  admittedly  to  be  decided  in 
the  court  of  philosophy,  whether  we  are  unwilling  to 
trace  the  controversy ;  is  to  be  fought  out  between 
men  of  strength  in  this  remote  arena,  how  are  we  in 
the  meantime  to  be  assured  of  the  direction  of  the 
under-current  of  truth,  whose  general  course  is  of 
such  moment  to  us  ?  we  do  not  believe  that  a  suf- 
ficient answer  to  this  question  is  very  far  off,  or  very 
difficult.  We  act  every  day  and  hour  as  though  we  be- 
lieved in  causes,  though  neither  Spencer  nor  Mill  nor 
Bain  find  any  foundations  for  the  belief.  We  act  as 
though  man  were  free  and  blame  possible,  though  the 
philosophy  of  these  gentlemen  discovers  no  grounds 
for  the  conviction.  May  we  not  as  easily  and  ra- 
tionally accept  the  soundness,  in  general  direction, 
of  that  vast  volume  of  belief  in  spiritual  powers,  a 
belief  from  which  none  of  us  can  escape,  even  mo- 
mentarily, except  by  spasmodic,  gymnastic  throes  of 
thought  ?  In  other  words,  it  is  unreason,  it  is 
against  reason,  to  abandon  the  settled  conclusions 
of  reason  through  centuries  otherwise  than  on  the 


INTERACTION    OF    PHYSICAL    FORCES,    ETC.       26 1 

clearest  and  most  sufficient  grounds.  Rivers  no  more 
certainly  reveal  the  slopes  of  continents,  as  they 
plough  their  deep  beds  to  the  ocean,  than  do  the 
long-standing  convictions  of  men— not  as  to  one  fact 
or  another,  one  particular  example  or  another,  but  as 
to  the  general  drift  and  nature  of  facts — disclose  the 
real,  the  inherent,  links  of  thought.  Indeed,  how  can 
it  be  otherwise  ?  Either  mind  is  in  hopeless  conflict 
with  itself,  or  the  laws  of  mind,  the  laws  of  its  safe 
action,  must  be  found  laid  down  in  that  great  sweep 
of  history,  wherein  are  traced  its  universal,  general, 
generic  movements. 

Most  instructive  is  the  present  reaction  against  ma- 
terialism in  the  form  of  spiritualism,  so  called.  Spread 
smooth  the  crumpled  bull's  hide  here,  and  it  only 
wrinkles  the  more  hopelessly  there.  For  every  absurd 
negative  here,  there  is  a  yet  more  absurd  affirmation 
there  ;  for  every  credulity  banished  on  this  side,  two 
spring  up  on  that.  This  storehouse  of  residuary 
phenomena,  this  limbo  of  inexplicable  effects,  only 
becomes  the  more  chocked  and  crowded  as  the  phys- 
icist sweeps  the  material  world  of  all  obstructions. 
The  world,  in  moving  onward,  maintains,  like  an 
equilibrist,  its  narrow  footing  by  thrusting  out  a  hand, 
a  rod,  or  a  weight — now  on  this  side,  now  on  that. 
The  wisdom  of  the  sciolist  we  are  called  on  to  balance 
just  now  with  the  folly  of  the  spiritualist,  like  with 
like.  May  God  give  us  more  breadth  of  footing,  and 
more  strength  to  walk,  lest  in  some  frantic  out-thrust 
of  thought,  we  lose  our  poise,  and  plunge  sheer  over 
into  the  gulf  of  materialism,  presenting,  on  a  larger 
scale,  the  sad  spectacle  which  sometimes  occupies  our 


262  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

civilization,  of  a  fool  perishing  by  his  own  dexterity, 
while  sight-seers  return  one  by  one  with  shame  to 
their  homes. 

There  is  a  Nemesis  that  waits  on  unbelief,  on  the 
refusal  of  the  faith  that  belongs  to  our  faculties  and 
to  their  Author,  which  shortly  plunges  us  into  some 
new  credulity,  and  laughs  at  the  reason  which  over- 
leaps itself,  and  leaves  the  mind  to  flounder  in  fresh 
difficulties  of  its  own  creation.  The  firm,  steady 
maintenance  of  the  ground  thus  far  gained  in  the 
history  of  thought,  is  the  first  condition  of  a  safe 
advance. 


r> 


LECTURE  XL 

PRIMITIVE   RELIGIOUS    CONCEPTIONS. 

Religion  rests  on  a  belief  in  the  being  of  a  God, 
and  is  determined  in  its  character  by  the  character 
of  God,  and  of  our  relations  to  him.  Men  inevitably 
reason,  in  the  first  instance,  from  the  form  of  their 
own  actions,  from  the  explanations  they  are  accus- 
tomed to  bring  to  them,  to  the  nature  and  form  of 
Divine  action.  In  all  that  we  do  in  the  external 
world,  we  start  with  matter,  we  change  its  forms  and 
positions,  and  these  changes  reveal  the  purposes  we 
are  pursuing,  and  our  resources  in  their  execution. 
Hence,  the  stone  hatchet,  the  implements  of  war 
or  of  husbandry,  become  instantly  to  us  a  testimony 
of  the  presence  and  labors  of  men.  It  is  thus  natural 
for  man  to  think  of  Gcd  as  starting  with  matter. 
Matter  itself  he  scarcely  contemplates  as  requiring,  in 
its  presence,  any  explanation,  and  readily  regards  it 
as  eternal,  or  overlooks  the  question  altogether.  It 
is  the  obvious  arrangements  of  the  world,  its  events, 
its  organic  beings,  its  order  and  completeness,  that 
first  send  him  forth  in  search  of  a  Creator,  a  Ruler. 
This  early  impulse  toward  a  supernatural  power  is  of 
so  simple  and  inevitable  a  character,  that  it  may,  with 
sufficient,  if  not  with  absolute,  truthfulness  be  said, 
that  all  men  feel  it,  and  that  an  adequate  and  uni- 
versal basis  is  found  therein  for  religion. 

Much  later,  however,  there  comes  another  view  of 


264  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

the  case.  Matter  ceases  to  be  regarded  as  so  much 
dead,  indifferent  material,  provided  in  inexhaustible 
quantities,  and  waiting  to  be  shaped  by  mind  into  a 
universe.  Matter,  in  its  several  forms,  in  its  first 
elements,  is  found  to  be  constituted  of  definite  qual- 
ities, distinct  properties  or  forces  ;  and  these,  by 
their  very  nature,  by  their  inevitable  combinations 
and  interactions,  give  rise  to  order,  by  slow  stages 
passing  into  a  complete,  physical  system.  The  seat 
of  thought  is  now  seen  to  be  one  step  deeper  than 
was  at  first  supposed.  The  Creative  Mind  is  not  so 
much  at  work  on  matter,  as  it  is  in  and  through  mat- 
ter. The  forces  which  we  call  matter,  in  their  intrin- 
sic nature,  the  quality  and  quantity  of  the  elements 
in  the  world,  their  relations  to  each  other  in  varied 
and  complicated  interactions,  are  found  to  contain 
the  secrets  of  structure  and  of  order  in  the  universe. 
Thus,  such  elements  as  oxygen  and  carbon  and  nitro- 
gen and  hydrogen,  in  their  amounts,  in  their  exact, 
peculiar  and  complementary  qualities,  are  seen  to 
hold  the  mysteries  of  earth  and  water,  of  air  and  the 
life  it  feeds,  and  that  if  the  starting-point  had  been 
materially  different,  either  in  the  nature  of  the  several 
forms  of  matter,  or  in  their  amount,  all  must  have 
been  chaos  and  confusion,  incapable  of  construction. 
The  elements  as  elements  are  either  at  peace  with 
each  other  in  material  and  organic  structures,  and 
are  constructive  under  the  plan  prepared  for  them, 
or,  as  active  forces,  they  are  at  war  with  each  other, 
and  destructive  to  every  systematic  purpose.  In  the 
one  case  the  physical  universe  grows  out  of  its  con- 
stituents, as  the  plant  from  the  germ  ;  in  the  other 


PRIMITIVE    RELIGIOUS    CONCEPTIONS.  265 

case,  it  becomes  impossible.  Not  only  is  not  the 
world  made  mechanically  from  the  outside,  it  could 
not  be  so  made.  There  is  no  rest  and  repose  in  its 
forces,  except  as  they  obey  their  own  affinities,  and 
revolve  in  the  orbits  of  change  congenital  to  them. 
Matter  is  its  properties,  is  known  only  as  its  proper- 
ties, and  these  properties  being  given,  the  material 
universe  follows  of  course  in  due  time.  Matter  in  its 
own  creation,  goes  to  work  at  once  to  build  up  a 
cosmos. 

Here,  then,  the  old  ground  on  which  the  being  of 
a  God  was  predicated  is  lost,  and  another  ground 
must  be  found,  or  the  argument  fails.  If  we  can  still 
look  upon  matter  as  eternal,  we  have  no  occasion  for 
a  Creator  and  Ruler,  so  far  as  the  inorganic  physical 
world  is  concerned,  since  the  nucleus  of  its  strength, 
the  root  of  its  perfections  are  hidden  in  itself.  It  is 
framed  more  cunningly  than  the  building,  and  not 
merely  goes  up,  but  grows  up,  without  the  sound  of 
hammer.  «  Evidently  unbelief  will  now  take  encour- 
agement, will  hold  fast  to  the  old  dogma  of  the  eter- 
nity of  matter,  and  cast  away,  as  ill  founded  and  un- 
necessary, the  argument  from  design  that  went  with 
it  Order,  plan  thus  become  necessary  and  native  to 
the  world,  the  first,  last,  and  only  form  of  physical 
forces.  It  is  plain  that  in  this  stage  of  the  argument 
between  faith  and  infidelity,  the  origin  of  life  in  the 
globe  becomes  a  question  of  great  interest — the  one 
side  seeking  to  establish  independent,  creative  points, 
the  other  struggling  to  braid  this  force  also  into  the 
physical  forces  of  the  world.  The  geologic  record, 
which  was  greatly  instrumental  in  giving  this  new 
12 


266  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

conception  of  matter,  as  holding  in  itself  the  slowly 
developing  germs  of  order,  is  diligently  searched  for 
the  sources  of  the  lives  whose  remains  are  so  abund- 
ant in  it.  The  Darwinian  theory,  inevitably  adopted 
by  those  who  would  make  Nature  sufficient  to  herself, 
becomes  at  once  possessed  of  a  religious  as  well  as 
of  a  scientific  interest.  The  proof  of  this  theory 
remains  very  incomplete,  yet,  if  it  should  prevail,  it 
does  not,  as  we  have  shown,  submerge  the  successive, 
creative  steps  indicated  by  the  various  forms  of  life  ; 
it  merely  shortens  arid  multiplies  them.  Hence  the 
argument  of  the  supernaturalist  holds  as  strongly,  if 
not  as  obviously,  by  these  many  and  smaller  fibers, 
as  by  the  fewer  and  larger  ones  under  the  old  view. 
The  absolute  size  of  the  cable  is  not  diminished,  it  is 
simply  modified  in  its  form  of  construction. 

We  believe,  however,  that  the  true,  the  better, 
defence  lies  deeper  than  this,  that  our  notion  of  the 
.  nature  of  matter  should  be  reconsidered,  and  that  the 
material  universe,  as  a  mere  momentary  existence,  in 
any  one  stage  of  its  being,  clearly  demands  a  Creator 
and  Sustainer,  and  this  because  a  precise,  definite 
compound  of  precise,  definite  forces  expresses  and 
does  the  work  of  mind,  and  of  mind  only.  A  condi- 
tioned force,  that  is  a  force  shaped  and  fixed  toward 
a  distinct,  definite  end,  does  of  itself  disclose  thought. 
Hydrogen  in  its  properties,  oxygen  in  its  properties, 
the  two  in  their  combined  and  related  properties, 
plainly  evince  the  presence  and  activity  of  mind. 
Thus  chemistry,  which  has  done  much  to  give  rise  to 
the  doubt,  does  still  more  to  resolve  it.  The  very 
interesting  and  able  lectures  of  Prof.  Cook,  delivered 


PRIMITIVE    RELIGIOUS    CONCEPTIONS-  267 

here  as  an  earlier  course,  are  instructive  in  this  con- 
nection. We  must  reach  the  Unconditioned  through 
the  conditioned,  wherever  we  find  it.  Every  fixed 
constituent  of  a  settled  plan  opens  to  the  eye  the 
author  of  that  plan.  Thus  in  our  new  apprehension 
of  the  nature  of  matter,  the  possibility  of  its  eternity 
is  swept  away,  our  negligent  thinking  concerning 
that  point  is  rebuked,  and,  borne  deeper  into  the 
nature  of  the  world,  we  are  brought  by  so  much 
nearer  to  God,  the  seat  of  its  strength.  We  find  his 
thought  and  his  life  and  his  government  as  much  in 
the  very  first  as  in  the  very  latest  activity.  The 
foundations  are  laid  in  every  element,  and  in  every 
property  of  every  element.  Proportion,  adaptation, 
definite  quantities  and  qualities  and  relations  appear 
from  the  outset,  and  show  that  matter,  in  its  very 
origin,  is  of  wisdom,  is  of  God. 

Reasoning  from  mere  matter  of  such  a  fixed  nature ; 
we  may  almost  say,  as  organic  a  compound  as  a  ker- 
nel of  wheat,  or  a  chestnut,  we  demand  for  it  an 
intelligent  Creator ;  the  language  more  frequently 
employed  is,  a  First  Cause.  This  expression  we 
object  to  as  faulty,  as  frequently  springing  from 
obscurity  of  thought  and  leading  to  it.  The  word 
cause  we  would  apply  exclusively  to  fixed,  conditioned, 
and  hence  physical,  forces.  In  this  more  exact  and 
safe  use  of  the  word,  the  expression,  a  first  cause,  is 
not  applicable  to  an  intelligent  being  ;  does  not  reach 
that  to  which  in  such  a  case  it  is  intended  to  apply. 
A  false  coloring  or  direction  is  also  given  by  it  to  the 
argument.  If  we  can  arbitrarily  stop  with  any  cause, 
and  call   this  a  first  cause,  demanding   no  further 


268  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

explanation,  then  we  should  excuse  ourselves  entirely 
from  pushing  backward  from  one  cause  to  another. 
If  we  are  impelled  to  reason  from  the  cause  before  us 
to  the  one  which  preceded  it,  and  has  passed  into  it, 
and  from  this  to  one  yet  prior,  we  cannot  check  this 
movement  at  any  later  point  whatever,  without  inval- 
idating the  entire  chain  of  connections  on  which  we 
have  so  far  proceeded.  The  dependence  of  the  latest 
cause  on  the  antecedent  one  is  no  more  -fixed  and 
necessary  than  that  of  the  first  cause,  so  called,  on 
something  prior  to  it.  Causes  are  all  conditioned, 
and  we  cannot  get  beyond  this  chain  by  taking  any 
one  link  in  it,  and  giving  it  a  new  name.  What, 
therefore,  the  general  idea  of  causation  claims,  in  final 
satisfaction  of  the  mind  and  arrest  of  the  argument, 
is  a  spontaneous,  that  is,  a  personal,  source  of  causes. 
The  so-called  First  Cause  cannot  be  a  cause,  but 
must  be  a  person,  since  only  a  person  can  lift  the 
thoughts  above  the  plane  of  conditioned  activities. 
It  is  these  forces  of  the  world  as  conditioned  that 
demand  explanation,  and  this  is  not  afforded  by  add- 
ing to  them  another  conditioned  force,  but  by  bring- 
ing them  forth  from  an  unconditioned  power  or  person. 
Moreover,  a  finite  person,  though  possessed  of 
spontaneous  power,  is  restricted  within  a  limited  cir- 
cle, both  as  regards  the  time  and  degree  of  its  exer- 
cise. There  is  in  him  a  germ  of  spontaneity,  but  not 
an  unlimited  germ.  He  may  grow  up  into  a  single 
star,  but  cannot  be  likened  to  that  nebulosity  out 
of  which  come  all  stars.  Hence  these  finite  bounds 
must  be  removed,  or  we  only  have  a  partial,  sec- 
ondary point  of  attachment  for  a  few  lines  of  force, 


PRIMITIVE    RELIGIOUS    CONCEPTIONS.  269 

not  the  final  gathering  of  them  all  up  into  one  hand. 
Our  First  Person,  therefore,  must  be  an  uncreated 
and  infinite  one,  the  I  Am  of  the  universe.  Thus,  in 
the  completed  conception,  a  new  regulative  idea  is 
introduced,  that  of  the  infinite  ;  is  joined  to  those 
previously  contained  in  personality,  and  we  have  the 
Almighty,  the  only  independent  and  perfect  Being. 

This  notion  of  the  infinite,  which  gives  form  and 
sufficiency  to  the  Christian  idea  of  God,  has,  like 
other  intuitive  conceptions,  suffered  repeated  and  va- 
rious attacks.  Hamilton  and  Mansel  have  regarded 
it  as  inconceivable,  while  Spencer,  with  the  same 
general  drift  of  thought,  has  spoken  of  it  as  an  ille- 
gitimate, symbolical,  pseudo-idea.  This  notion  must 
be  vindicated,  or  our  conception  of  God  fails  us.  We 
regard  the  objection  made  to  it  as  inconceivable  as 
of  no  moment  whatever.  By  conceivable  and  incon- 
ceivable in  this  connection  can  only  be  meant  pre- 
sentable or  not  presentable  in  the  imagination.  Now 
the  imagination  works  only  under  the  forms  of  the 
senses,  and  to  say,  therefore,  of  an  idea  that  it  is 
inconceivable,  is  merely  to  say,  that  it  is  not  one  of 
phenomena,  that  it  has  no  final,  sensible  manifesta- 
tion. Certainly  none  of  those  who  believe  in  the 
infinite  suppose  it  ever  to  be  of  a  phenomenal,  that 
is  of  a  definite,  that  is  of  a  finite,  nature.  If  the  infi- 
nite were  conceivable,  it  could  not  remain  the  infinite. 
If  the  existence  of  this  notion  is  to  be  denied,  because 
the  infinite  is  inconceivable,  the  denial  can  have  no 
force  exception  the  ground  that  there  are  no  ideas 
and  no  knowledge  but  those  ideas  and  that  knowl- 
edge which  can  lie  in  the  forms  of  the  imagination, 


270  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

which  can  come  to  us  through  the  senses.  But  we 
offer  the  notion  of  the  infinite  as  an  intuitive  idea, 
and  it  is  no  proof  against  it  so  urged,  that  it  finds  no 
entrance  at  the  senses.  This  is  exactly  what  we 
suppose  and  affirm  concerning  it,  and  assign  it  to  a 
new  faculty  whose  action  is  not  covered  by  the  word 
conceive. 

The  affirmation  of  Spencer  is  of  the  same  nature, 
and  rests  on  the  same  grounds.  He,  too,  cannot  im- 
agine, cannot  conceive,  the  infinite  ;  and  because  it 
thus  baffles  him,  he  too  labels  it  as  an  illegitimate, 
illusory  notion.  Here  again  is  revealed  the  set  and 
current  of  the  old  predetermination  ;  what  the  senses 
certify  this  shall  find  acceptance,  what  they  reject 
this  shall  be  rejected  ;  to  them  we  commit  the  keys  ; 
we  plant  them  at  the  door,  and  they  shall  decide,  and 
only  they,  who  are  to  find  admittance.  Any  ideas 
that  seem  actually  to  get  in  otherwise,  are,  in  spite 
of  all  pretensions  on  their  part,  mere  phantoms,  vex- 
atious and  troublesome,  but  not  dangerous.  Now 
the  notion  of  the  infinite,  conceivable  or  inconceiv- 
able, substantial  or  illusory,  is  actually  in  the  mind, 
and  very  busy  there ;  is  present  to  the  thoughts  of 
Hamilton,  of  Mansel,  of  Spencer,  and  is  very  mettle- 
some there,  otherwise  why  this  continual  war  of 
brooms  to  drive  it  out?  Evidently  it  is  like  the 
nature  of  Horace,  pitchforks  may  seem  to  expel  it, 
but  cannot  hold  the  ground  against  it.  These  men 
have  all  talked  much  about  something  which  they 
have  called  the  infinite,  and  if  now,  according  to  their 
own  confession,  they  do  not  know  what  it  is,  we  are 
excused  from  «giving  any  weight  to  what  they  have 


PRIMITIVE    RELIGIOUS    CONCEPTIONS.  2/1 

said ;  and  if  they  do  know  what  it  is  that  disturbs 
them,  that  fact  destroys  their  argument — that  those 
who  reject  the  notion  of  the  infinite  should  involve 
themselves  in  so  obvious  a  dilemma  as  this,  reveals 
at  once  the  confusion  and  perplexity  of  their  position. 
They  confound  the  action  of  one  faculty  with  another, 
and  because  the  power  to  which  they  attributed  a 
result  is  obviously  too  weak  to  yield  it,  they  reject  the 
result  itself.  They  refuse  to  retrace  their  steps,  and 
admit  the  existence  of  an  intuitive  action  of  mind, 
the,  source  of  the  idea ;  they  prefer  the  bold,  curt 
policy  of  striking  down  the  obtrusive  notion. 

One  of  the  earlier  directions  in  which  the  idea  of 
the  infinite  would  find  application,  one  of  the  first 
objects  of  consideration  by  which  it  would  be  evoked, 
is  that  of  space.  Space  is  perfectly  homogeneous. 
No  definite  or  peculiar  relations  attach  to  one  point 
in  pure  space  more  than  to  any  other.  What  is  true 
here,  at  this  point,  is  true  everywhere,  and  simple 
movement  secures  no  change  of  conditions,  no  near- 
ness or  remoteness,  no  approach  to  this  side  or  de- 
parture from  that.  Now  the  thoughts  dwelling  for 
a  little  on  the  conception  of  space,  discovers  this 
absolute  oneness,  this  perfect  uniformity  of  conditions 
in  it,  this  homogeneity  in  it  everywhere,  by  which  the 
words  expressive  of  relation  as  above,  below  ;  Here, 
there  ;  to  the  right,  to  the  left ;  find  no  application. 
Hence  they  recognize  the  futility  of  all  change  of 
place  as  either  penetrating  or  modifying  space,  and 
for  this  reason,  also,  the  mind  supplies  the  notion  of 
the  infinite  as  the  ground  or  form  of  these  facts.  The 
infinite  is  to  be  carefully  distinguished  from  the  in- 


272  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

definite.  A  mathematical  series  may  be  indefinitely 
great,  it  is  never  infinitely  great.  The  indefinite  is 
simply  that  which  transcends  the  mind's  estimate, 
which  wearies  it  out.  Many  so  regard  the  infinite, 
as  we  think,  very  erroneously.  The  infinite  is  not 
begotten  by  the  exhaustion  of  the  imagination,  it 
does  not  spring  from  simple  weakness,  it  is  not  a 
conception  on  which  the  mind  pillows  itself  in  sheer 
fatigue,  having  added  space  to  space  in  a  fruitless 
effort  to  stretch  a  line  of  measurement  from  shore  to 
shore  of  the  infinite  void.  These  are  mere  pranks 
and  sports  of  the  fancy  in  connection  with  a  trans- 
cendental idea,  coming  to  the  mind  from  an  entirely 
distinct  quarter.  We  draw  attention  to  the  quickness 
and  firmness  of  the  thoughts  in  evoking  and  employ- 
ing this  conception,  when  rightly  directed.  The  pro- 
cess is  as  definite  as  the  grasp  of  a  mathematical 
truth.  We  know  certainly  and  forever  that  two  par- 
allel lines  cannot  enclose  a  space,  we  have  but  to 
direct  the  mind  to  two  facts  :  first,  the  portions  im- 
mediately before  us  do  not,  cannot,  by  conception 
approach  each  other ;  second,  these  portions  are  an 
exact  type  and  representation  of  all  other  portions. 
For  a  firm  and  final  application  of  the  notion  of  the 
infinite  to  space,  we  have  a  like  occasion  for  two  con- 
siderations only :  first,  the  point  we  now  occupy  in 
space  is  central,  equally  remote  from  all  bounds  ; 
second,  take  any  other  point  where  we  will,  and  its 
conditions  are  the  precise  equivalents  of  these ;  hence 
the  conclusion,  space  is  infinite.  It  may  indeed  be 
truly  said  that  the  first  step  involves  the  entire  result, 
yet  the  mind  evolves  it  more  distinctly  by  the  two, 


PRIMITIVE    RELIGIOUS    CONCEPTIONS.  .  2/3 

and  taking  full  hold  of  the  two,  settles  the  conclusion 
forever. 

Observe  the  great  distinctness  and  firmness  of  the 
notion  when  the  mind  is  once  made  familiar  with  it, 
has  lost  the  strangeness  of  movement  in  a  new  field. 
No  truth  in  mathematics  rests  on  a  stronger  intuitive 
basis.  It  is  strange  that  Hamilton  or  Mansel  should 
lay  any  stress  on  the  fact,  that  the  mind  cannot  con- 
ceive, that  is  imagine,  the  infinite,  since  this  must  be, 
should  be,  the  case.  Moreover,  how  easily  is  this 
faculty  baffled  or  indefinitely  bothered  by  well-known 
phenomenal  truths,  properly  subject  to  it,  such  as  our 
relation  to  the  earth's  surface  during  its  revolution  on 
its  axis.  We  seem  now  vertical  on  an  upper,  now 
pendant  on  a  lower,  now  projecting  on  a  perpendicular, 
surface.  What  a  struggle  with  the  imagination  have 
some  had  in  accepting  this  simple  truth.  Spencer  is 
scarcely  more  correct  in  affirming  the  notion  of  the 
infinite  to  be  utterly  unthinkable,  thrice  unthinkable  in 
relation,  in  difference,  in  likeness.  This  it  admittedly 
is,  if  by  thinking  it  is  meant  an  identification  of  it  in 
class  and  kind  with  other  notions  ;  this  it  is  not,  if  by 
thinkable  is  meant  that  which  is  capable  of  a  clear 
and  distinct  service  in  thought,  which  can  enter  there 
as  an  original  and  final  element.  No  thinking  is 
more  complete  to  a  thoroughly  rational  mind  than 
that  which  calls  forth  from  its  own  depths  a  recogni- 
tion of  the  necessary  fact,  that  space  is  without  limits. 

The  infinite  is  also  applicable  in  like  manner  to 
time,  each  point  in  turn  being  the  exact  counterpart 
of  every  other,  yet  only  on  this  condition,  that  we 
consider  time  as  one  whole.     It  is  not  two  infinites, 

12* 


274  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

but  one  infinite.  This  notion  finds  a  double  applica- 
tion to  God  ;  he  is  infinite  in  power,  and  he  is  infinite 
in  knowledge.  It  is  not  fitting  to  say  he  is  infinite 
in  holiness,  since  perfect  is  the  notion  here  pertinent. 
Holiness  pertains  to  the  agreement  of  action  with  a 
standard,  not  to  the  extent  of  action. 

In  affirming  God  to  be  infinite  in  power  and 
knowledge,  we  mean  that  there  are  neither  external 
nor  internal  limits  to  his  activities,  other  than  those 
which  belong  to  their  very  nature.  All  that  is  possi- 
ble to  physical  power  is  within  the  scope  of  his 
action ;  all  that  is  possible  to  mental  activity,  to 
knowledge,  attaches  to  him  as  original  and  native 
strength.  Knowledge,  then,  is  meant  to  include  the 
entire  spiritual  strength,  and  power  the  entire  execu- 
tive force  known  to  us  as  physical.  Unlimited  mas- 
tery in  each  direction  is  the  prerogative  of  Deity. 
The  infinite  as  applied  to  power  does  not  alter  the 
nature  of  power,  does  not  make  it  capable  of  new 
results,  but  removes  all  limitations  from  it  in  quan- 
tity. Thus  also  is  it  in  the  several  forms  of  mental 
activity  gathered  up  in  the  word  knowledge  ;  whether 
of  an  emotional  or  intellectual  character,  they  are 
absolutely  without  the  restriction  of  weakness  or 
feebleness  ;  there  are  no  limitations  in  them  as  activ- 
ities, though  they  may  set  limits  to  each  other.  The 
heart  of  God  is  not  made  weary  by  loving,  nor  the 
thought  of  God  by  devising.  All  degrees  of  the  one 
and  of  the  other  are  with  him. 

Here  again  we  are  met,  of  course,  by  those  who 
are  wont  to  submit  all  intellectual  products  to  the 
imagination,  with   the   assertion,  that   we   have   an 


PRIMITIVE    RELIGIOUS    CONCEPTIONS.  275 

utterly  incoherent  conception,  that  the  moment  we 
attempt  to  realize  it,  it  disappears  in  thin  air  ;  that  no 
power  can  be  grasped  by  us  except  in  some  distinct, 
definite  putting  forth,  and  that  so  put  forth,  it  at  once 
sinks  to  the  finite  ;  that  no  knowledge  can  be  con- 
ceived by  us,  except  as  a  restricted  movement  of 
mind  in  one  direction,  and  that  so  conceived  it  is 
partial  and  limited. 

We  simply  respond,  drive  back  the  imagination,  it 
is  the  hound  that  hunts  behind  the  senses,  that  fol- 
lows an  earthly  trail,  or  bays  the  placid  moon  in  sheer 
impotence.  Why  dog  the  stars  with  it  ?  What  is  it 
that  leads  us  to  affirm  infinite  power  in  God  ?  Not 
a  precise,  imaginative  measurement  of  what  he  has 
done  ;  not  a  compounding  in  gigantic  additions  of  the 
forces  actually  expended,  but  the  conviction  of  the 
mind  that  nothing  but  an  infinite  nature,  an  abso- 
lutely independent  one,  can  be  an  independent  source 
of  force.  But  two  positions  are  open  to  God,  or  to 
any  being,  that  of  the  Creator  or  of  the  created,  that 
of  the  conditioned  or  of  the  Unconditioned,  and  to  be 
the  Unconditioned  one,  is  to  be  without  limits  in  the 
forces  which  spring  from  him.  All  this  reasoning, 
these  concreations  of  the  mind,  which  break  ground 
for  a  new  application  of  the  notion  of  the  infinite,  do 
not  spring  from  the  imagination,  do  not  come  within 
its  province,  but  leave  it  at  labor  in  a  field  immeas- 
urably below,  while  the  reason  mounts  up  to  the 
throne  of  God. 

Nor  does  this  inconceivability  of  infinite  power 
prevent  our  handling  the  idea  in  decisive  and  sat- 
isfactory forms,  and  including  within  it  each  manifes- 


2/6  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

tation  of  finite  force.  Space,  as  infinite,  is  incapable 
of  division.  Nothing  can  be  added  to  it,  nothing  can 
be  taken  from  it.  Strictly  speaking,  there  is  no  por- 
tion of  space ;  since  this  language  would  imply  an 
entire  or  complete  body  of  space,  of  which  this  re- 
stricted part  was  a  portion.  Yet  this  fact  does  not 
prevent  our  reaching  most  exact,  mathematical  results 
from  considering  the  so-called  portions  of  space,  nor 
our  empirically  treating  it  in  connection  with  matter 
under  every  form  of  dimension,  relation,  and  measure- 
ment. Space  holds  snugly  all  extensions  without 
modifying  them  or  being  modified  by  them  ;  while 
the  one  idea,  in  the  furniture  of  thought,  performs  as 
important  an  office  as  the  other,  the  infinite  as  the 
finite.  Thus  the  powers  of  God  gather  up  all  finite, 
physical  forces  without  being  exhausted  or  defined  by 
any  one  of  them.  We  may  as  accurately,  as  safely, 
and  with  the  same  instruction,  speak  of  the  force  of 
the  whirlwind  as  a  portion  of  the  infinite  power  of 
God,  and  as  a  partial  presentation  of  it,  as  we  can  of 
the  area  of  a  circle,  as  a  portion  of  space,  a  measure- 
ment within  it.  The  absolute  homogeneity  of  space 
only  makes  every  part  of  it  a  more  complete  type  of 
every  other ;  the  unity  of  all  forces  in  God  imparts 
something  of  the  same  representative  power  to  each 
of  them. 

Thus  also  is  it  with  knowledge.  When  we  affirm 
infinity  of  it,  we  do  not  mean  to  deny  its  character, 
or  modify  its  actual  form,  but  to  remove  outside  re- 
straint, and  inside  feebleness  from  it.  God's  power 
is  potential ;  his  knowledge  may  be  potential  as  well. 
We  are  not  to  embarrass  our  thinking  by  striving  to 


PRIMITIVE    RELIGIOUS    CONCEPTIONS.  277 

make  this  knowledge,  in  its  manifestations,  at  once 
infinite  and  finite,  by  supposing  it  to  include  a  definite 
act  of  attention  to  each  separate  thing,  and  an  inclu- 
sive, constant,  fixed  attention  to  all  things  ;  so  that 
the  eye  cannot  wink  lest  something  be  lost,  nor  the 
thought  move  lest  something  be  left  behind,  but  the 
one  must  gaze  fixedly  on,  and  the  other  hold  motion- 
less in  unchangeable  reflection.  We  are  rather,  in 
imagination,  to  adhere  to  the  form  of  the  finite,  and, 
in  the  reason,  cast  the  infinite  as  the  canopy  of  heaven 
over  it,  giving  range  and  liberty  to  all  its  movements. 
Indeed,  all  that  is  highest,  most  potential  in  knowl- 
edge is  not  of  the  character  indicated  by  this  de- 
structive not  constructive,  this  dead  not  living,  con- 
ception of  the  Infinite.  The  more  power  we  have, 
the  more  vigor  of  thought,  the  less  is  the  mind  bur- 
dened by  its  possessions,  the  less  does  it  lapse  into  a 
painful  holding  on  to  things  ready  to  elude  it.  Such 
a  mind  abides  in  perfect  liberty  in  one  thought,  in 
one  line  of  endeavor,  with  a  quiet  command  of  many 
others,  a  potential  hold  on  all  its  resources.  Is  it  not 
better  to  conceive,  is  it  not  philosophically  more  exact 
to  handle,  the  power  and  knowledge  of  God  as  we 
actually  find  them,  under  a  finite  form  with  the  sug- 
gestion of  infinite  scope,  than  to  strive  after  them  as 
they  are  nowhere  presented  under  an  infinite  form  ? 
All  about  us  are  the  forces  and  thoughts  which  God 
employs,  which  come  forth  from  his  infinite  resources, 
and  why  should  we  find  any  more  difficulty  in  know- 
ing these  for  what  they  are,  than  they  in  being  what 
they  are  ?  If  infinite  power  and  knowledge  do  put 
forth  limited  products,  cannot  these  products  in  turn 


278  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

put  us  in  connection  with  infinite  power  and  knowl- 
edge ?  If  the  argument  against  the  infinite  is  good 
for  anything,  it  goes  to  the  length  of  proving  that  all 
is  finite,  that  rationality  cannot  recognize  the  infinite 
or  the  procession  of  the  finite  from  it.  What  can  be 
is  certainly  not  beyond  the  scope  of  knowledge,  and 
what  cannot  be  known,  actually  or  potentially,  is  so 
far  impossible  to  being. 

The  truth  is,  our  knowledge  strikes  into  two  very 
different  realms — the  phenomenal  and  the  unphenom- 
enal,  our  wisdom  is  to  deny  or  to  waste  neither  branch, 
but  to  allow  the  one  more  and  more  to  interpret  and 
expound  the  other,  knowing  that  we  grow  into  the 
invisible  through  the  visible,  the  complete  through 
the  incomplete,  the  commanding  spiritual  intuition 
through  a  studious  inquiry  into  the  actual  conditions, 
the  physical  or  mental  facts,  which  evoke  it.  Because 
the  one  is  not  the  other,  because  matter  is  not  mind, 
nor  the  language  the  thought,  nor  the  symbol  the 
very  force  of  the  sentiment,  nor  the  marble  statue 
the  soul  whose  seat  it  seems  to  be,  nor  the  finite 
world  the  Infinite  Creator,  it  does  not  follow  that 
each  and  all  of  them  may  not  lift  the  mind  truly, 
safely  into  the  invisible  region,  whence  they  come 
down  to  us,  and  whose  speech  they  proclaim  to  us. 
Indeed,  in  so  many  ways,  by  such  slight  connections, 
in  each  happy  suggestion  of  look  or  sound  or  silence, 
through  doors  so  often  left  ajar,  we  slip  into  the  spir- 
itual world,  that  it  becomes  truly  astonishing  that  the 
universe,  with  its  deep  vault  of  light,  or  its  silent  paths 
among  the  stars,  is  not  a  sufficiently  royal  way  for  us 
all  to  go  up  by  to  the  throne  of  Infinite  Power. 


PRIMITIVE    RELIGIOUS    CONCEPTIONS.  279 

We  doubtless  conceive  God  most  exactly,  when  we 
conceive  him  most  closely  to  the  facts  of  our  own 
experience,  when  we  find  him  in  most  intimate  re- 
lation to  the  works  of  his  hands.  The  holiness  of 
God,  the  chief  of  his  characteristics,  is  known  to  us 
only  in  the  reflection  of  our  own  moral  natures.  The 
actions  of  God  are  not  forced  upon  us  as  right,  they 
are  commended  to  us  as  right,  and  the  response  we 
find  to  them  in  our  ethical  judgments,  is,  must  be, 
the  measure  of  our  approval,  and  of  the  adoration  we 
render  to  God.  As  a  glass  globe  in  the  open  air 
gathers  in  perfect  and  exquisite  reflection  the  entire 
circle  of  the  heavens  above  it,  and  the  earth  about 
and  beneath  it,  so  the  soul  of  man,  by  its  moral  ca- 
pacities, stands  in  central,  sympathetic  connections 
with  all  purity  and  virtue,  knows  them  as  purity  and 
virtue  through  a  knowledge  of  itself,  by  the  sphericity 
of  its  own  nature.  As  a  tinge  of  color  in  this  reflect- 
ing medium,  aids  rather  than  mars  the  beauty,  so  the 
dark  experiences  of  man  in  transgression  does  not  pre- 
vent his  hiding  in  his  soul  an  image  of  heaven,  nor  the 
entrance  of  the  moral  glory  of  God  by  the  avenue  of 
his  moral  nature.  What  God  does,  is  not  good  to  us 
because  he  does  it,  but  because  within  our  own  con- 
ceptions it  presents  itself  as  an  action  well  done. 
The  interpretation  is  from  the  soul,  and  we  know 
God  as  God  by  the  unity  of  our  spirits  with  his. 
The  struggle  of  virtue  in  the  heart  of  the  transgres- 
sor is  the  response  of  life  to  life,  is  one  more  effort  of 
a  prostrate,  trampled  plant  to  bend  upward  its  grow- 
ing points  to  the  light. 

If  such  are  the  conditions  of  likeness  under  which 


280  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

we  approach  the  moral  attributes  of  God,  do  we  not 
look  most  wisely  into  his  power,  the  nature  and  the 
range  of  it,  when  we  find  it  in  the  things  and  the  forces 
nearest  to  us,  not  when,  under  a  false  idea  of  exalting 
it,  and  striking  from  it  finite  limitations,  we  lift  'it 
into  a  region  of  abstractions,  which  are  robbed  of 
the  glory  of  being,  and  have  no  answering  glory  of 
conception. 

What  is  the  relation  of  God  to  space  ?  It  is  at 
once  answered :  He  is  omnipresent,  and  then  steps 
in  some  philosopher  to  say,  the  notion  of  omnipres- 
ence is  an  inconceivable  and  illusory  one,  wherewith 
you  beguile  the  thought,  not  instruct  it.  This  seems 
to  us  true  only  on  this  condition,  that  setting  our 
faculties  at  cross- purposes,  we  strive  to  handle  in  the 
imagination  what  belongs  to  the  reason,  and  sublim- 
ate in  the  reason  what  is  just  nutriment  and  symbolic 
expression  to  the  imagination.  This  we  do  on  one 
side,  when  we  strive  definitely,  that  is  under  a  phe- 
nomenal form,  to  conceive  an  omnipresent  being, 
giving  to  the  Almighty  a  shape  that  we  may  reach 
him  in  fancy,  and  instantly  striking  it  off  again,  that 
he  may  not  suffer  its  limitations,  but  still  spread 
through  and  occupy  all  space  ;  this  we  do,  on  the 
other  side,  when,  the  senses  and  the  imagination 
actually  feasted  on  the  glories  of  the  visible  world, 
we  call  in  the  reason  to  drive  God  out  of  that  world, 
by  the  suggestion,  this  is  finite,  he  is  infinite ;  this  is 
conditioned,  he  is  unconditioned.  We  are  rather,  as 
in  language,  to  let  the  ear  be  delighted  with  the 
melody  of  the  voice,  and  the  soul  to  be  fed  on  the 
thought.     The  finite  is  in  the  infinite,  and  of  it.     Let 


PRIMITIVE    RELIGIOUS    CONCEPTIONS.  28 1 

the  imagination  tarry  here,  as  in  the  ante-chamber 
of  Heaven  ;  there  is  an  invisible  fulness  back  of  this, 
on  which  the  reason  casts  quick,  intuitive  glances, 
though  divested  of  all  resemblance  to  things,  of  pre- 
cise and  phenomenal  form.  The  cloud  is  the  gar- 
ment of  God's  majesty  as  much  by  the  light  it  keeps 
back,  as  by  that  which  breaks  through  it. 

Consciousness,  the  condition  of  spiritual  existence, 
has  no  relation  to  space.  Thought,  as  an  act,  is 
neither  here  nor  there,  and  in  its  objects  may  move 
instantly  anywhere.  The  only  relation  which  mind 
has  to  locality  is  through  the  body.  By  means  of  it, 
the  mind  has  a  double  connection  with  space.  There 
is  a  very  limited  material  circle  which  it  pervades, 
and  in  many  portions  of  which  it  can  exercise  an 
immediate,  physical  force.  It  has  but  to  will  to  move 
the  head,  the  hand,  the  foot,  in  order  to  shoot  force 
through  them,  or  through  other  members  of  the  body. 
So  far,  it  has  a  species  of  omnipresence  within  the 
body.  If,  now,  matter  in  all  its  forms  be  but  the  force 
of  God,  God's  will  is  as  omnipresent  to  the  entire  ma- 
terial universe  as  my  will  to  the  tense  muscle  of  my 
right  arm.  There  is  a  broader  circle  than  this  from 
which  forces,  by  means  of  the  senses,  the  eye,  the  ear, 
reach  the  body,  and  pass  by  their  effects  into  con- 
sciousness, consciousness  without  position  or  locality. 
May  not  every  activity  in  the  universe,  God's  own 
activity,  come  into  his  consciousness,  without  position 
or  locality,  fittingly  termed  omnipresent  and  omni- 
scient as  necessarily  feeling  and  knowing  all  that  is  ? 

Space  has  no  independent  being.  It  borrows  its 
reality  from  the  reality  of  that  which  it  defines.     It 


282  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

exists  in  the  mirror,  but  dash  the  mirror  and  it  is 
gone.  It  is  present  in  the  dream  ;  but  awake  from 
the  dream,  and  it  disappears.  God's  abiding  activity 
in  the  external  world  gives  abiding  space,  but  sweep 
away  all  external  objects,  cancel  the  body,  let  thought 
alone  remain,  and  where  and  what  is  space  ?  Con- 
sciousness, pure,  intellectual  activity,  finds  no  occasion 
for  it,  no  region  in  which  to  locate  it.  Do  not  the 
forces  of  God,  momentarily  exercised  in  space,  take 
omnipresent  possession  of  it,  give  it  being  to  our 
thoughts,  and  leave  it,  if  he  should  withdraw  his 
creations,  ready  to  collapse  like  the  times  and  places 
of  a  dream  ? 

May  not  a  like  conception  be  applicable  to  time  ? 
Time  seems  much  less  fixed  and  settled  to  us  than 
space.  Its  dimensions  contract  and  expand  according 
to  our  varying  experiences,  till  hours  are  transformed 
into  minutes,  and  minutes  drawn  out  into  hours  and 
days.  We  all  know  the  effect  of  dreams,  of  intense 
pain,  or  of  great  danger  on  our  impressions  of  time. 
Now  what  is  it  that  holds  apart,  that  gives  length  and 
measurement,  to  the  surging  years  of  eternity,  but 
the  events  that  are  transpiring  in  them,  the  roll  of 
suns,  the  sweep  of  planets,  the  coming  forth  and 
decay  of  life  ?  And  how  can  we  more  worthily  con- 
ceive of  this  varied  and  immeasurable  activity  than  as 
the  transient  activity  of  God,  as  the  form  in  which 
his  power  is  momentarily  expressing  itself ;  the  phase 
his  life  is  taking  upon  itself,  putting  phenomenally 
forth  from  itself?  Is  it  not  better  to  conceive  of  God's 
movable,  flexible,  spontaneous  life,  as  passing  down 
through  the  eternities,  taking  successive  possession 


PRIMITIVE    RELIGIOUS    CONCEPTIONS.  283 

of  them,  making  them  what  they  are,  than  to  strive, 
against  all  laws  of  thought,  to  lock  it  up,  we  know 
not  where  or  when,  in  some  steadfast  gaze  of  omni- 
science ?  Indeed,  what  is  omniscience,  but  a  know- 
ing of  all  that  has  been,  is,  or  may  be  ?  and  what  are 
the  eternities  but  the  stretch  of  time  through  which 
God  has  rolled  his  activity,  made  in  their  length  by 
the  slow,  if  you  so  regard  it,  or  rapid,  if  you  so  regard 
it,  evolution  of  his  plans  ?  Where  is  the  time  of  my 
vision,  its  events  removed  ?  Where  the  time  in 
which  we  enclose  the  eternal  years  of  God,  the  dis- 
tending events  of  his  universe,  the  thoughts  of  his 
mind,  being  swept  away  ?  It  has  vanished  like  the 
bubble  overblown,  like  the  dream  from  which  we  have 
waked. 

I  may  be  asked,  What  is  the  worth  of  such  con- 
ceptions ?  you  cannot  propose  to  urge  them  upon 
others  as  final.  Their  worth  is  very  great  to  any  soul 
that  wishes  them,  who  can  use  them  in  driving  back 
those  dead  conceptions  of  the  universe,  which  make 
of  it  a  machine,  mere  matter  ;  and  those  remote  illu- 
sory notions  of  God,  which  hide  him  away  totally 
outside  of,  and  backside  of,  his  creation,  and  finally 
forget  him  altogether.  They  are  thrown  out  as  ways 
of  helping  us  to  find  God  very  near  to  us,  as  notions 
every  way  more  accurate  and  more  inspiring  than 
those  which  they  displace.  Says  Martineau — and  we 
cannot  again  avail  ourselves  of  his  thoughts  without 
expressing  our  admiration  of  the  penetration  and 
scope  of  his  powers — "  Indeed  this  mechanical  met- 
aphor, so  skilfully  elaborated  by  Paley,  appears  to  be 
of  all  representations  of  the  divine  nature,  the  least 


284  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

religious :  its  very  clearness  proclaiming  its  insuffi- 
ciency for  those  affections  which  seek,  not  the  finite, 
but  the  infinite  ;  its  coldness  repelling  all  emotions, 
and  reducing  them  to  physiological  admiration  ;  and 
its  scientific  procedure  presenting  the  Creator  to  us 
in  a  relation  quite  too  mean,  as  one  of  the  causes  in 
creation,  to  whom  a  chapter  might  be  devoted  in  any 
treatise  on  dynamics  ;  and  on  evidence  quite  below 
the  real,  as  a  highly  probable  God.  The  true  natural 
language  of  devotion  speaks  out  rather  in  the  poetry 
of  the  Psalmist  and  the  prayers  of  Christ ;  declares 
the  living  contact  of  the  Divine  Spirit  with  the 
human,  the  mystic  implication  of  his  nature  with  ours, 
and  ours  with  his  ;  his  serenity  amid  our  griefs,  his 
sanctity  amid  our  guilt,  his  wakefulness  in  our  sleep, 
his  life  through  our  death,  his  silence  amid  our  stormy 
force  ;  and  refers  to  him  as  the  Absolute  basis  of  all 
relative  existence  ;  all  else  being  in  comparison  but 
phantasm  and  shadow,  and  he  alone  the  Real  and 
Essential  Life." 

How  plain  is  it,  that  a  God  so  conceived,  conceived 
evidently  as  he  would  have  us  conceive  him,  since,  on 
the  one  hand,  he  gives  us  the  universe  through  which 
to  approach  him,  and  on  the  other,  supplements  it 
with  the  assertion  of  his  infinite,  spiritual,  and  inap- 
proachable nature,  thus  keeping  us  in  the  path  of 
light  by  the  nice  equipoise  of  contradictions  ;  how 
*  plain  is  it  that  such  a  faith,  and  such  a  faith  only, 
subserves  the  purposes  of  a  rational  life.  There  is 
given  us  here,  that  which  we  may  know,  and  will 
know,  and  increasingly  know ;  and  there,  that  which 
provokes  inquiry,  keeps  the  edge  of  appetite  good, 


PRIMITIVE    RELIGIOUS    CONCEPTIONS.  285 

and  ever  stretches  beyond  our  thought.  Every  re- 
ligion that  has  had  any  hold  on  the  human  mind,  has 
had  its  mysteries,  its  shekinahs,  answering  to  these 
deep  things  of  God  ;  and  has  also  had  its  rites,  pre- 
cepts, and  outer  courts.  Rob  religion  of  that  which 
is  incomprehensible,  which  cannot  be  found  out  to 
perfection,  which  refuses  to  subject  itself  to  the  exact 
conditions  of  time,  place  and  circumstances,  and  you 
strip  it  of  its  transcendental  truth,  its  infinite  scope, 
its  lifting  power  ;  take  from  it  its  true,  simple,  sym- 
bolic knowledge,  its  near  approach  to  God,  its  outer 
courts  wherein  the  masses  may  throng  to  his  worship, 
and  your  whole  religious  faith  passes,  like  a  balloon, 
into  the  cold  upper  air  ;  the  eyes  of  men  will  soon 
cease  to  follow  it,  and  return  again  to  familiar  things. 
"  It  is  of  such  mental  strife  with  the  mysterious, 
which  uses  up  our  knowledge  and  lets  us  fall  upon 
our  conscious  ignorance,  that  religion  has  its  birth. 
The  perpetual  renewal  of  this  controversy  maintains 
the  soul  in  that  intermediate  state  between  the  known 
and  the  incomprehensible,  the  finite  and  the  infinite, 
which  excludes  as  well  the  dogmatism  of  certainty  as 
the  apathy  of  nescience  and  chance,  and  calls  up  that 
wonder,  reverence,  and  trust,  which  are  the  fitting 
attributes  of  our  nature." 

Observe  the  deep  foundations  of  rationality,  on 
which  the  Christian  faith,  combining  the  known  and 
the  unknown,  the  finite  and  the  infinite,  the  incarnate 
and  the  invisible  rests.  How  it  lays  hold  of  all  emo- 
tions of  the  heart !  How  it  engages,  quickens,  ex- 
pands the  thoughts  !  How  it  strengthens  the  soul  ! 
How  it  strikes  deep  down  and  far  back  into  history 


286  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

for  the  reasons  and  grounds  and  forms  of  its  pres- 
ence !  How  it  draws  to  it  remote  races  and  distant 
times,  and  the  deep-seated  forces  of  our  common 
life  !  Says  Max  M  tiller,  "  The  elements  and  sorts  of 
religion  were  then  as  far  back  as  we  can  trace  the 
history  of  man  :  and  the  history  of  religion,  like  the 
history  of  language,  shows  us  throughout  a  succes- 
sion of  new  combinations  of  the  same  radical  ele- 
ments. An  intuition  of  God,  a  sense  of  human 
weakness  and  dependence,  a  belief  in  a  Divine  gov- 
ernment of  the  world,  a  distinction  between  good  and 
evil,  and  a  hope  of  a  better  life — these  are  some  of 
the  radical  elements  of  all  religions.  Though  some- 
times hidden,  they  rise  again  and  again  to  the  sur- 
face. Though  frequently  distorted,  they  tend  again 
and  again  to  their  perfect  form.  Unless  they  had 
formed  a  part  of  the  original  dowry  of  the  human 
soul,  religion  itself  would  have  remained  an  impossi- 
bility, and  the  tongues  of  angels  would  have  been  to 
human  ears  but  as  sounding  brass  or  a  tinkling  cym- 
bal." 

A  faith  so  reposing,  a  conception  of  the  Infinite 
and  his  government  so  grounded,  are  like  the  great 
mountains  that  hide  their  roots  in  darkness  and 
their  summits  in  light,  but  yield  broad  and  fertile 
slopes  on  which  many  may  live,  up  which  they  may 
ascend,  at  each  step  gathering  a  broader  view,  and 
possessed  by  a  deeper  inspiration.  At  times  indeed, 
to  the  over-speculative,  the  too  little  trusting  mind, 
the  clouds  that  hover  round  their  peaks  may  descend, 
and  envelope  the  entire  landscape,  and  the  unbeliever 
may   ask,  Where   now   are   your   heaven-ascending 


PRIMITIVE    RELIGIOUS    CONCEPTIONS.  287 

summits  ?  Born  of  the  mist,  they  are  swallowed  up 
of  the  mist.  But  he  that  can  abide  a  little  in  faith, 
shall  see  the  birth  of  new  and  unusual  glories,  when 
clefts  appear  in  the  riven  clouds,  and  they  flee  apace 
before  the  winds  that  strike  through  them,  and  the 
light  that  drinks  them  up,  till,  their  dim,  despairing 
aspect  all  gone,  and  made  to  share  the  victory  of  the 
day,  they  linger,  of  things  ethereal  themselves  the 
most  ethereal.  The  difficulties  of  reason,  left  high 
and  remote,  are  masses  of  effulgent  clouds  ;  brought 
down  about  us,  and  sensually  scrutinized,  they  are 
cold  fog-winds,  that  drearily  extinguish  our  comforts, 
and  one  by  one  quench  our  hopes. 


LECTURE  XII. 

CLASSIFICATION    OF    KNOWLEDGE  :    FORM    OF     DEVEL- 
OPMENT. 

We  now  approach  the  end  of  our  labor,  and  should 
find  some  new  light  to  have  been  cast  by  it  upon  the 
relations  of  science  and  religion  to  mental  philosophy. 
Is  it  not  plain,  that  the  tendency  increasingly  shown 
to  term  mental  science,  philosophy,  peculiarly  and 
preeminently  philosophy,  is  correct  ;  that  an  appre- 
hension of  mind,  its  faculties  and  laws,  stands  central 
in  knowledge,  and  determines  its  forms  and  limits  in 
all  directions  ;  that  science  on  this  side  and  religion 
on  that,  must  receive  thence  the  form  of  their  truths, 
their  relations  to  other  truths,  and  the  final  grounds 
of  their  validity  ? 

All  darkness  and  confusion,  therefore,  which  the 
prejudices  of  the  present  time  shall  allow  to  steal  into 
the  department  of  philosophy,  must  be  greatly  disas- 
trous, loosening  the  central  connections  of  thought, 
disintegrating  knowledge,  wasting  portions,  and  allow- 
ing other  portions,  like  rebellious  provinces,  to  cast 
off  the  organic  laws  of  the  kingdom  of  truth,  and  to 
issue  their  own  limited  edicts  in  their  place.  The 
mind  must  mount  to  a  knowledge,  a  correct  and  com- 
plete knowledge,  of  its  own  faculties,  their  scope  and 
authority,  and,  from  this  central  eminence,  lay  out  the 
fields  of  exploration  around  it. 

In  the  first  place,  it  sets  this  limit  to  physical  sci- 


CLASSIFICATION    OF    KNOWLEDGE,    ETC.  289 

ence  ;  that  it  belongs  to  physical  things  and  events 
which  appear  in  space,  and  arise  under  the  notion  of 
causation.  These  inquiries  have,  therefore,  perfectly- 
definite,  perfectly  firm  and  invariable  connections. 
Here,  science  may  boast  of  its  "immutable,  unchange- 
able, eternal  laws  ; "  may  bind  down  all  events  to  them, 
and  delight  to  inquire  into  the  kind,  order  and  depend- 
encies of  that  class  of  facts  which  arise  under  them. 

Philosophy  reserves  for  itself  an  equally  distinct 
field,  that  of  consciousness,  in  whose  events  the  notion 
of  space  finds  no  application,  and  whose  interior  law 
is  that  of  spontaneity  and  liberty.  But  besides  these 
two  departments  of  empirical  knowledge,  of  actual 
things,  there  is  another  of  pure  conceptions.  It  arises 
from  the  unfolding  by  the  mind  of  its  own  intuitions, 
and  lies  in  the  region  of  abstract  transcendental  truth. 
Thus  the  conceptions  of  space  are  expanded  into 
geometry,  and  judgments,  under  the  notion  of  iden- 
tity, into  logic. 

These  are  the  three  primary  directions  of  thought : 
space  i-n  its  physical  facts ;  consciousness  in  its  men- 
tal facts  ;  abstract  truths  without  actual,  phenomenal 
being.  We  are  thus  ready  for  a  classification  of 
knowledge,  and  to  indicate  the  ruling  conception  in 
each  separate  science.  By  science  is  meant  a  form 
of  knowing  which  approaches  completeness  and  ful- 
ness ;  and  by  a  science,  a  given  department  of  knowl- 
edge, so  explored  and  explained.  There  is  no  fixed 
limit  between  that  degree  of  knowledge  which  consti- 
tutes a  science,  and  that  inferior  degree  which  remains 
unworthy  of  the  name. 

The  first  division  of  knowledge  is  into  the  Intuitive 


29O  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

Sciences  and  the  Empirical  Sciences  :  those  which 
do  not  pertain  to  real  being,  and  those  which  do. 
The  Intuitive  Sciences  are  again  divisible  into  the 
Pure  and  the  Impure.  The  Pure  Sciences  rest  wholly 
on  intuitions,  give  laws  to  facts,  and  receive  no  laws 
from  them  ;  are  discussed  independently  of  them. 
Of  this  class,  are  Pure  Mathematics  and  Deductive 
Logic.  To  the  second  class  of  Impure  Intuitive 
Sciences,  belong  Applied  Mathematics,  Ontology, 
Esthetics  and  Ethics.  These,  each  of  them,  deal  with 
facts,  but  deal  with  them  not  as  facts  merely,  but 
under  intuitive  relations  which  the  mind  imposes 
upon  them.  Let  the  facts  be  fixed,  hypothetically  or 
actually,  and  demonstration  enters  here  as  in  the 
pure  sciences  ;  that  is,  the  reason  sees  the  conclusion 
to  be  contained  necessarily  in  the  premises. 

The  Empirical  Sciences  fall  into  Intellectual  and 
Physical.  The  Intellectual  Sciences  are  sub-divided 
into  Mental  and  Social  Sciences.  The  Social  Sci- 
ences are  further  divisible  into  those  of  Historv, 
Language  and  Political  Economy. 

The  Physical  Sciences  contain  three  classes  ;  those 
of  elements  ;  those  of  compounds,  inorganic  and 
organic  ;  those  of  interactions. 

The  first  of  these  treat  of  primary,  elementary 
forces  ;  the  second,  of  the  separate  products  of  these 
forces ;  and  the  third,  of  the  complex  conditions  of 
action  and  reaction  in  the  different  departments  in 
which  these  exist  together.  To  the  first  class,  that 
of  elements  or  elementary  forces,  belong  Chemistry 
and  Physics.  To  the  second,  of  organic  and  inor- 
ganic forces,  belong  Mineralogy,  Botany  and  Zoology. 


CLASSIFICATION    OF    KNOWLEDGE,    ETC. 


29I 


To  the  third,  of  interaction,  belong  Geology,  Meteor- 
ology and  Physical  Geography. 

We  subjoin  a  table  expressing  these  relations  and 
containing  the  leading,  regulative  idea  or  ideas  of 
each  science.  Of  course,  other  ideas  enter  in  con- 
stantly, but  the  ones  indicated  give  character  to  the 
respective  branches. 


Mathematics. 

f    Space  and 
\      Number. 

Pure. 

Logic. 

(  Resemblance 
\           as 
(      Identity. 

Intuitive 

Science. 

Mixed  Mathematics. 

(  Resemblance 
<            as 
(      Identity. 

Impure. 

Ontology. 

^Esthetics. 

Ethics. 

Causation. 
Beauty. 
Right. 

w 
0 

Mental. 

Science  of  Mind. 

Resemblance. 

Q 

Intellectual. 

Language. 

Resemblance. 

H-l 

Social. 

History. 

" 

O 

55 

Political  Economy. 

(C 

Of  Elements 

i4 

or 

Physics. 

Causation. 

Empirical 
Science. 

Elementary 
Forces.  ■ 

Chemistry. 

Of  Inorganic 

and 

Organic 

Forms. 

Mineralogy. 

Resemblance. 

• 

Physical. 

Botany. 
Zoology. 

CC 

Geology. 

Causation. 

Of 

Physical  Geography. 

Interactions. 

Meteorology. 
Physiology. 

c( 

We  now  pass  to  the  relation  of  Philosophy  to  re- 
ligion. It  discloses  the  basis  of  religion  in  our  con- 
stitution ;  the  source  and  soundness  of  those  concep- 
tions on  which  it  rests.  These  are,  first,  that  of  the 
infinite  in  its  personal  form,  and  second,  those  of 
liberty  and  right.      Without  these   ideas  firmly  es- 


292  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

tablished,  and  practically  believed  in,  we  can  have  no 
belief  in  God,  or  in  duties  owed  to  him.  Philosophy, 
therefore,  settles  the  foundations,  not  less  of  religion 
than  of  science,  and  shows  it  incorporate  in  our  first 
constitution.  So  true  is  this,  that  in  our  scheme  of 
knowledge,  we  need  no  distinct  department  as  that  of 
theology.  The  being  of  a  God  pertains  to  Ontology. 
The  facts  of  Revelation  have  arisen  historically,  and 
the  precepts  of  religion  are  those  of  our  moral  nature. 
Theology,  therefore,  is  simply  gathering  together, 
into  one  presentation  for  practical  ends,  what  per- 
tains to  many  departments  of  knowledge.  The  as- 
sertion, that  religion  rests  wholly  on  our  mental  con- 
stitution for  the  nature  and  fitness  of  its  claims,  is 
displeasing  to  some  minds,  but  we  think,  chiefly, 
because  its  bearings  are  not  fully  understood.  It 
seems  to  them  to  set  human  reason  above  Divine 
reason,  Philosophy  above  Revelation.  This,  at  first 
flash  may  appear  to  be  the  force  of  the  statement, 
but  is  not  its  real  character.  God  has  placed  the 
seal  of  his  authority  on  our  very  constitution,  on  our 
rational  and  moral  faculties  themselves,  and  not  upon 
any  external  parchment  or  revelation  as  alien  to  these 
faculties,  or  foreign,  in  its  claims,  to  conscience.  His 
law  is  written  in  the  heart ;  indeed,  as  a  moral  law,  it 
can  be  written  no  otherwise.  Commands  are  of  no 
avail,  except  as  they  are,  first,  understood,  and  of  no 
moral  avail  except,  second,  as  their  force  and  fitness 
are  felt,  that  is,  responded  to  from  within.  No  in- 
junctions can  be  laid  upon  any  but  an  intelligent 
being,  and  no  religious  injunction  upon  any  but  a 
moral  being ;  since  otherwise  laid,  they  find  no  echo 


CLASSIFICATION    OF    KNOWLEDGE,    ETC.  2Q3 

in  the  soul,  get  no  hold  of  it.  We  must  have  ears  to 
talk  to,  eyes  to  present  colors  to,  consciences  on 
which  to  lay  claims.  God's  government  goes  far 
deeper  than  the  precept :  it  springs  up  in  the  rational, 
moral  sense  which  explains  and  justifies  the  precept. 
It  were  vain  that  religion  is  both  rational  and  right,  if 
men  were  not  able  to  discern  that  which  is  rational  and 
recognize  that  which  is  right.  God  first  establishes 
the  human  reason,  the  ethical  sense,  and  by  these, 
establishes  his  commands.  His  throne  is  set  up 
in  our  nature,  as  to  the  conditions  and  reason  of 
its  authority,  not  elsewhere.  This  shows  us  why 
his  kingdom  tarries.  He  is  struggling  to  correct 
that  reason,  and  redirect  that  moral  nature,  that 
have  partially  lost  their  hold  on  the  truth,  and  thus 
allowed  the  foundations  of  his  government  to  give 
way.  It  is  not  on'  irrationality  but  rationality  ;  it  is 
not  on  strength  but  righteousness  that  God  builds  ; 
and  reason  and  right  have  no  existence  for  any  soul 
except  as  disclosed  to  it  by  its  own  action. 

God  has  given  us  those  powers  which  constitute 
us  free,  reasonable  beings,  and  all  his  commands,  all 
our  relations  to  him,  all  his  methods  of  dealing  with 
us,  depend  for  their  fitness  on  the  nature  of  those 
powers  ;  and  thus  a  correct  knowledge  of  them,  a 
correct  philosophy,  is  necessary  to  the  construction  of 
a  correct  theology.  If  we  are  free,  sin  is  one  thing  ; 
if  we  are  not,  it  is  a  very  different  thing.  If  we  are 
able  to  apprehend  the  law  of  right  as  a  primitive  in-, 
tuition,  the  law  of  virtue  is  one  thing  ;  if  we  are  not, 
it  is  quite  another.  The  language  which  God  ad- 
dresses to  us  is  as  much  to  be  explained  by  a  knowl- 


294  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

edge  of  our  nature,  as  the  language  I  address  to  a 
dog  is  to  be  understood  by  a  knowledge  of  its  nature. 
It  does  not  set  human  reason  above  the  divine  reason, 
because  by  the  first  only  do  we  understand  and  ex- 
plain the  last.  The  pupil  is  not  above  the  teacher, 
because  he  enters  into,  and  explains  by  his  own 
thoughts,  the  thoughts  of  the  teacher.  It  is  a  very 
awkward  and  weak  government  which  rests  on 
strength,  compared  with  that  which  rules  in  the  very 
mind  and  heart,  and  is  able  to  divide  the  man  against 
himself  in  every  act  of  disobedience,  and  make  the 
last  appeal  to  the  conscience  of  the  criminal. 

We  see  but  one  danger  to  be  guarded  against  in 
this  statement,  and  that  is  this :  Because  the  exist- 
ence of  God  and  the  rightfulness  of  his  government 
are  disclosed  to  us  in  our  own  moral  nature,  and  his 
commands  meet  with  their  final  enforcement  there, 
it  does  not  follow  that  each  revealed  truth  and  specific 
precept  will  be  at  once  and  thoroughly  apprehended 
by  us,  or  that  we  shall  be  at  liberty  to  set  it  uncere- 
moniously aside  when  it  fails  to  disclose  its  intrinsic 
light.  The  reason  and  the  conscience  inquire  into 
all  things,  not  less  scientific  than  revealed  truths, 
under  this  condition  of  partial  ignorance,  and  a  qual- 
ified acceptance  of  what  they  do  not  comprehend. 
The  authority  of  reason  is  not  thereby  lost ;  we  are 
only  bidden  by  reason  itself  to  wait  for  a  final  adjust- 
ment on  further  inquiry.  Conscience  may  sanction 
a  command  of  God,  as  a  command  of  God,  without 
seeing  its  precise  grounds  ;  and  in  doing  this,  is  as 
rational,  and  as  dependent  on  reason,  as  is  the  travel- 
ler in  committing  himself  to  a  guide.     The  assertion 


CLASSIFICATION    OF    KNOWLEDGE,    ETC.  295 

remains  true,  fully  true,  we  are  built  into  the  moral 
government  of  God,  and  a  knowledge  of  him,  solely 
by  our  rational  and  moral  nature.  We  are  rational 
and  moral  first,  and  religious  afterward  ;  that  is,  the 
first  capabilities  involve  the  second,  and  give  law  to 
them.  We  are  what  we  are,  first  by  the  creative  * 
work  of  God  ;  second,  by  his  redemptive  work  under, 
and  in  completion  of,  his  first  work.  To  decry  the 
reason  of  man,  is  to  decry  God,  its  author,  and  to  put 
out  the  very  eyes,  by  which  we  wait  on  him,  into 
which  he  pours  the  light  of  his  truth,  and  the  smile 
of  his  benignity.  It  is  not  philosophy,  but  philosophy 
falsely  so  called,  that  we  are  to  fear ;  it  is  not  the 
wise  man  but  the  fool,  who  says  in  his  heart,  "  There 
is  no  God." 

By  the  relation  now  pointed  out  between  science, 
philosophy  and  religion,  by  which  the  one  stands 
midway  between  the  other  two,  and  gives  them  the 
ideas  under  which  they  proceed,  we  are  able  to  see 
a  reason  for  the  order  which  individual  and  social 
growth  have  assumed.  That  the  progress  of  society 
as  a  whole  should  agree  in  its  leading  stages  with  that 
which  more  frequently  falls  to  the  individual  in  the 
development  of  his  own  intellectual  life,  is  inevitable. 
The  earlier  periods  of  a  nation,  or  of  nations — as  they 
have  often  so  influenced  each  other  intellectually  as 
to  make  of  their  conjoint  periods  a  continuous 
advance  in  thought — is  necessarily  made  up  in  the 
great  bulk  of  its  population  of  individuals  in  the  first 
stages  of  progress,  while  its  subsequent  and  its  later 
periods  are  respectively  marked  by  a  steady  increase 
of  those  in  an  advanced  development.     Hence,  the 


296  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

life  of  the  nation  is  a  prolonged  counterpart  of  that 
of  the  individual  ;  and  the  history  of  nations,  as  con- 
jointly bearing  on  civilization,  a  second  counterpart 
of  the  included  units  of  growth.  This  is  true,  how- 
ever, with  an  important  exception  :  the  individual  is 
mortal,  and  the  nation  as  well  hitherto,  while  nations 
are  able  to  take  up  the  march  in  endless  succession. 
Each  of  these,  which  are  truly  historic,  which  are  the 
fighting  corps  in  the  army  of  progress,  and  not  mere 
hangers-on,  cannot  fail  at  once  to  participate  in  the 
past,  and  break  new  ground  in  the  future. 

The  individual  mind,  the  child,  starts  with  un- 
bounded faith  in  personal  powers,  not  so  much  in  his 
own,  as  in  those  of  his  parents,  in  those  of  the  men 
and  the  women  above  and  about  him.  The  boy  in- 
terprets everything  to  himself  on  the  side  of  sponta- 
neity, of  individual  strength.  The  heroes  of  fiction 
and  of  history  are  all  in  all  to  him.  They  handle  and 
wield  to  his  fancy  all  the  forces  about  them.  In  con- 
nection with  this  delight  in  personal  prowess,  this  pre- 
dominance of  the  free,  individual  element,  the  mind 
readily  accepts  the  presence  of  spiritual  agencies, 
divine  and  malign  :  indeed,  gigantic  human  strength, 
super-human  achievements  and  mythological  beings 
all  blend  together  as  equally  accepted  parts  of  one 
unanalyzed  picture.  The  religious  element,  there- 
fore, is  favored  in  youth  by  this  predominance  of  the 
intuitions  on  which  it  rests,  by  this  sense  of  liberty, 
and  the  weight  of  purely  personal  powers.  Later, 
the  control  of  the  mind  over  its  "creations  impresses 
itself  on  the  enlarged  apprehension.  Pure  mathe- 
matics, a  solid  crystal  of  simple  thought,  and,  like  a 


CLASSIFICATION    OF    KNOWLEDGE,    ETC.  297 

fitly-shaped  lens,  bringing  strange  magnitudes  and 
novel  presentations  to  many  practical  subjects,  to 
astronomy,  optics,  mechanics,  lay  strong  hold  of  the 
intellect,  and  present  it  as  furnishing  and  shaping  its 
own  instruments,  and  using  them  most  efficiently  on 
the  material  before  it,  waiting  to  be  inquired  into,  *. 
and  thus  fashioned  into  knowledge.  The  personal 
element,  therefore,  still  retains  possession  of  the 
mind,  though  in  a  somewhat  less  wayward  and  irre- 
sponsible form. 

It  is  not  till  the  natural  sciences  come  to  possess 
an  absorbing  interest,  not  till  a  sense  of  the  independ- 
ent force  and  order  in  the  world  about  us  is  strongly 
impressed  on  the  mind,  that  it  begins  slowly,  and 
somewhat  reluctantly  perhaps  to  take  up  the  impres- 
sion, that  it  is  lapped  by  laws  and  powers  hoary  with 
years  beyond  its  conception,  broad,  deep,  high,  strong ; 
with  a  force  to  which  its  own  is  insignificant,  roll- 
ing on,  a  resistless  flood,  along  a  channel  whose 
bed  is  never  dry,  whose  current  knows  no  pause  nor 
abatement.  Now  the  mind  is  ready  to  swing  wholly 
over  from  its  former  position  ;  to  regard  the  liberty 
with  which  it  delighted  itself  as  a  mere  delusion  ;  the 
power  which  it  vaunted,  as  a  child's  infatuation.  It 
now  becomes  its  chosen  wisdom  simply  to  see  the 
forces  about  it,  to  go  with  them,  and  escape  the  ruin 
of  resistance.  Religion  and  religious  ideas  appear 
remote  and  shadowy,  or  disappear  altogether.  The 
material  universe,  too  strong,  far  too  strong  for  the 
human  soul,  soon  presents  itself  as  strong,  very 
strong  for  the  handling  even  of  a  divine  agent, 
and  spirits  and  spiritual  powers  of  all  forms  and 
13* 


298  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

grades  are  soon  left,  blind  Sampsons,  to  grind  in  this 
magnificent  mill,  which  can,  by  all  their  strength,  be 
revolved  in  one  way,  and  for  one  end  only. 

From  this  final  phase  of  the  mind  in  its  progress 
through  partial  and  incomplete  forms  of  knowledge, 
there  is  no  return  to  strength  and  the  composure  of 
balanced  powers  and  compensatory  considerations, 
but  by  true,  sound  philosophy.  Or,  rather,  such  a 
philosophy  should  have  anticipated  this  unseating  of 
the  mind  from  its  central  pivot,  and  left  it  still  free  to 
vibrate  under  every  attraction,  returning  steadily  to 
the  polar  point  of  personal  strength.  Let  the  mind 
rise  a  little  above  this  stream  of  forces  ;  let  it  find  in 
them  one  more  magnificent  display  of  personal,  of 
divine  power ;  let  it  discern  the  truly  spiritual  influ- 
ences that  momentarily  play  down  upon  them,  both 
from  itself,  and  the  great  army,  rank  within  rank,  of 
lives  that  use  them  ;  and  its  equipoise  is  restored  to 
it.  Religion  comes  back  upon  it  with  new  signifi- 
cance, and  it  finds  that  it  has  climbed  this  exceedingly 
high  mountain,  not  so  much  to  see  all  the  kingdoms 
of  the  earth  and  the  glory  of  them,  as  to  catch  over 
and  beyond  them  all,  a  more  exalted  view  of  the 
Kingdom  of  Heaven. 

The  progress  of  the  individual  is  more  frequently 
by  points,  by  separation,  by  analysis,  than  by  synthe- 
sis ;  and  thus  it  is  ever  assuming  a  one-sided  and 
disproportionate  appearance  ;  is  ever  looking  towards 
something  less  complete  than  its  own  normal  life. 
As  it  is  said  of  embryonic  growth,  that  it  takes  on 
forms  which  belong  to  lower  kinds  of  life,  and  through 
these  slowly  approaches  its  own,  its  higher  type,  so 


CLASSIFICATION    OF    KNOWLEDGE,    ETC.  299 

the  mind  accepts  successive  and  partial  phases  of 
truth,  and  learns  but  slowly  to  unite  them  into  a 
symmetrical,  a  completely  developed,  whole.  We 
come  to  a  knowledge  of  ourselves,  as  we  study  or- 
ganic beings,  destructively ;  we  separate  the  bones, 
we  pull  apart  the  muscles,  we  dissect  out  the  arteries, 
we  pursue  the  nerves  to  their  lodgment.  The  mech- 
anism of  the  parts  we  at  length  understand,  but 
the  whole  as  a  whole,  its  unity,  its  mystery,  its  life, 
escape  us,  and  are  to  be  reached  again  only  by  a 
pause  :  by  regarding  our  dissection  as  all  undone, 
and  by  standing  silently  in  the  silent  presence  of 
that  life  which  fled  before  our  busy  fingers  com- 
menced their  labor,  and  which  they  have  now  ban- 
ished even  from  our  thoughts. 

The  general  order  of  development  as  enforced  by 
the  disciples  of  the  positive  philosophy,  is  that  which 
corresponds  to  the  one  we  have  presented  in  the 
individual  mind.  They  speak  of  a  theological  age, 
of  a  metaphysical  age,  and,  last  of  all,  of  the  age  of 
positive  knowledge.  Of  course,  no  age  presents  a 
phase  of  development,  pure  and  distinct,  but  is  what 
it  is  by  predominant  tendencies.  The  theological 
age  is  one  in  which  personal  elements  have  free, 
undisputed  supremacy,  and,  therefore,  in  which  the 
natural  has  no  advantage,  in  men's  thoughts,  over  the 
supernatural ;  the  two  have  not  fallen  apart,  and  do 
not  present  different  claims.  Thought  has  not  be- 
come distinct  and  thoughtful,  and  it  uses  the  regula- 
tive idea  nearest  to  it  somewhat  at  random.  In 
the  metaphysical  age,  thought  has  become  more 
severe,  more  logical.     Indeed,  logic,  strictly  so  called, 


300  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

has  become  the  study  of  the  mind,  and  its  chief 
weapon.  It  still  thoroughly  believes  in  itself,  and,  by 
the  fixed  laws  of  evolution,  expects,  in  its  own  judg- 
ments, from  its  own  fruitful  conceptions,  to  build  up 
a  consecutive  and  universal  frame-work  of  knowl- 
edge. In  this  period,  much  is  accomplished,  and 
much  is  failed  of,  while  religious  ideas  have  still 
universal  hold  on  the  mind. 

Later  comes  the  millenium  of  science,  in  which 
man  wakes  up  to  find  a  world  outside  of  himself,  and 
to  the  fact  that  its  laws  are  to  be  discovered,  not  in- 
vented ;  its  phenomena  observed,  not  fancied.  The 
mind  now  descends  from  its  high  pitch,  and  hunts 
bugs  where  bugs  are  to  be  found.  At  this  point, 
positive  philosophy  steps  in  exultant ;  claims  this 
result  as  its  own  ;  fearlessly  asserts  that  mind  is  but 
a  big  maw  for  the  digestion  of  this  sort  of  facts  ; 
that  hitherto  it  has  only  thriven  on  wind,  and  now, 
for  the  first  time,  has  found  its  true  feeding  fields. 
Some,  with  fatalistic  folly,  resign  themselves  to  this 
interpretation,  and  think  it  a  magnificent  thing  to 
rummage  the  world  over,  to  cast  up  its  soil,  pry  into 
its  secret  places,  and  entertain  those  messengers  that 
come  to  us  from  the  silent  spaces  above,  and  all  for 
a  fact,  which  is  to  be  used  finally  as  mere  food  to  the 
belly.  No  inspirations  are  brought  to  the  spirit,  no 
consolations  are  whispered  into  its  heavy  ears.  This 
might  do,  had  we  not  come  down  from  a  throne,  and 
could  we  not  easily  climb  back  to  it ;  had  we  not 
ruled  in  nature,  and  might  not  rule  there  again.  It 
is  something  to  hold  knowledge  as  a  mirror  embra- 
ces  its   objects  in  passive   reflection,  but  it  is  far 


CLASSIFICATION    OF    KNOWLEDGE,    ETC.  301 

more  to  see  for  use,  and  to  use  for  immortality  ;  to 
bring  interpretation  to  what  we  behold,  and  to  find, 
by  this  interpretation,  our  spirits  knit  in  a  kindred 
of  thoughts  and  purposes  to  the  great  Architect  of 
all. 

We  accept  the  three  periods  of  positive  philosophy, 
each  partial  phases  of  thought,  all  to  be  gathered  up 
in  their  results  as  the  mind  advances  to  a  higher 
plane  of  activity,  and  collects  its  gains  for  a  new 
outlay.  We  merely  refuse  to  accept  the  last  and 
extreme  position  as  final,  as  most  truthful  of  all ;  yea, 
the  only  truthful  one.  The  pendulum  pauses  but  an 
instant  at  the  end  of  the  arc,  and  impels  the  hours 
by  a  new  vibration.  Passing  through  science  back 
again  to  philosophy  and  religion,  we  shall  still  find 
the  world  ready  to  strike  off  our  march  on  the  dial- 
plate  of  progress,  as  the  race  climbs  the  morning 
slope  toward  its  zenith  of  strength. 

If  our  view  thus  far  is  correct,  it  is  plain  that  there 
are  no  fixed,  established  lines  of  development  which 
society  must  follow,  whether  it  will  or  no.  Spencer 
may  trace,  as  he  pleases,  the  passage  of  the  homoge- 
neous into  the  heterogeneous ;  the  slow  adjustment 
of  life  to  its  external  conditions,  he  only  engineers 
roads  which  the  race  may  or  may  not  travel.  If  it 
travels  at  all  in  the  direction  he  proposes,  it  must,  it 
is  true,  accept  the  general  route  indicated,  as  there  is 
no  other :  but  as  in  man  the  ruling  element  of  life  is 
a  moral  one,  all  other  conditions  of  progress  must  be 
determined  by  it,  and  it  is  as  possible  for  a  nation  to 
degenerate  as  to  advance.  Indeed,  the  world  has  as 
often  presented  the  one  spectacle  as  the  other.     The 


302  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

great  mill-wheel  cannot  be  clogged,  and  minor  ones 
revolve  successfully.  The  ends  for  which  man  puts 
his  powers  to  work  will  always  have  a  moral  charac- 
ter, will  always  set  in  operation  moral  laws,  moral 
forces,  for  his  encouragement  or  his  overthrow  ;  for 
his  establishment  or  his  retribution  ;  and  thus  the 
individual  and  the  nation  will  finally  find  the  moral 
government  too  strong  for  them  ;  that  the  very  rap- 
idity of  its  immoral  prosperity  causes  a  people  first 
to  be  proud,  then  tyrannical,  then  enervate — to  part, 
like  an  over-driven  wheel,  into  a  hundred  fragments, 
and  to  pass  into  the  chaos  of  a  shipwrecked  nation- 
ality, to  become  like  old  iron,  waiting  at  the  furnace 
door,  new  moulds  and  new  uses. 

How  wholly  mistaken  is  the  statement  of  Buckle, 
that  intellectual  forces  are  the  efficient  forces  in  pro- 
gress :  that  the  moral  element  is  every  way  secondary. 
Not  till  intellectual  elements  have  resolved  themselves 
into  moral  elements,  do  they  effect  progress  at  all. 
Not  till  they  instruct  men  how  to  live  and  for  what 
to  live,  do  they  influence  life,  and,  teaching  life  in  its 
form  and  substance,  they  become  fully  moral ;  they 
prosper  or  retard  it  in  the  degree  in  which  they  throw 
it  into  harmony  with  a  universe  ruled  under  and  for 
moral  ends. 

The  primary,  the  fundamental  principles  in  the 
discussion  of  social  and  historical  questions,  of  the 
hopes  and  possibilities  of  the  race,  must  be  found  in 
philosophy,  which  underlies  them.  Does  mind  rule 
in  and  over  matter,  then  the  natural  and  the  super- 
natural, the  physical  and  the  spiritual  will  harmoni- 
ously unite  in  true,  in  real  progress.     Is  matter  the 


CLASSIFICATION    OF    KNOWLEDGE,    ETC.  303 

one  seat,  the  sole  seat  of  force  ?  then  progress  will 
be  either  certain  or  impossible  ;  will  either  care  for 
itself,  or  need  not  be  cared  for  at  all.  The  questions 
of  human  interest  can  be  handled  on  no  common 
ground  by  a  materialist  and  a  realist :  neither  history 
nor  society,  things  present,  past,  nor  to  come,  can 
receive  from  them  a  kindred  interpretation.  They 
read  the  cipher  with  a  different  key,  and  everywhere 
conflicting  results  follow.  The  foundations  of  philos- 
ophy must  be  laid,  or  it  is  useless  to  lay  any  other 
foundations,  or  institute  any  other  inquiries,  save  into 
simple,  visible  facts  as  facts.  Begin  in  any  direction 
to  knit  them  together,  and  discrepancies  and  difficul- 
ties at  once  appear. 

All  systems  of  thought  of  social  and  ethical  bear- 
ings, that  are  truly  coherent  and  symmetrical,  can  be 
tested  in  their  truth  only  by  an  examination  of  the 
fundamental  principles  on  which  they  rest.  Many 
minds  are  able  with  adroitness  and  logical  skill  to 
evolve  a  few  first  truths  into  an  entire  system,  which 
cannot  be  treated  successfully  by  an  inquiry  into  the 
details  of  its  structure,  but  only  by  a  return  once  more 
to  its  initiatory  and  germinant  ideas.  Thus  the  phi- 
losophy of  Herbert  Spencer,  his  First  Principles,  his 
Psychology,  his  Biology,  are  exerting  a  great  influ- 
ence ;  and,  while  they  carry  with  them  many  truths 
and  much  instruction,  they  are,  in  ethical  and  religious 
departments,  most  destructive  and  disastrous.  Their 
evil  influences  are  indeed  restricted  by  two  facts  : 
many  of  those  who  are  ready  to  accept  their  conclu- 
sions, do  not  apprehend  all  of  their  bearings,  and  thus 
easily  endorse  premises,  from  whose  ultimate  liabilities 


3O4  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY   AND    RELIGION. 

they  would  draw  back  in  alarm.  Men  are  too  illogical 
to  suffer  all  the  evil  of  their  opinions,  as  well  as  to  re- 
alize all  the  good  that  they  contain.  Yet,  what  men 
fail  to  do  at  once  and  consistently,  time  is  likely  to 
accomplish  slowly.  The  mere  jolt  of  motion  shows 
a  good  deal  of  arranging  power  in  loose  material,  and 
thus  a  slow  separation  takes  place  in  opinions.  The 
evil  that  is  in  them  will  not  be  still,  and  at  length 
falls  into  genial  soil.  There  it  germinates,  and  soon 
a  rank  growth  of  mischief  overshadows  and  rots 
away  the  remainder  of  sound  thought. 

A  second  protection,  of  much  the  same  nature,  is, 
that  few  really  grasp  and  accept  an  unsound  philoso- 
phy. Their  native  convictions  are  too  strong  for  it. 
They  do  not,  they  cannot  discard  the  ordinary  con- 
nections of  thought,  and  they  use  philosophy  as  a 
mere  flag  to  unfurl  on  convenient  occasions,  to  afford 
character  and  give  nominal  protection.  It  is  gener- 
ally certain  practical  tendencies,  certain  corollaries, 
which  bear  on  daily  life,  that  incline  the  most  of  those 
minds,  that  are  but  semi-philosophical,  to  accept  one 
system  rather  than  another.  They  choose  philoso- 
phies as  one  chooses  climates,  for  the  comforts  they 
yield,  and  they  inquire  or  care  for  little  beyond  this. 

For  this  and  like  reasons,  philosophy  never  does  at 
once  anything  like  either  as  much  good,  or  as  much 
evil,  as  it  is  in  it  to  do.  It  is  not  a  contagion,  but  a 
constitutional  force,  that  must  show  itself  in  succes- 
sive generations  before  its  real  power  and  nature  are 
discoverable.  Yet,  what  it  loses  in  time  it  makes  up 
in  strength  and  intensity,  when  it  has  once  planted 
itself  among  the  central  forces  of  life,  and  commenced 


CLASSIFICATION    OF    KNOWLEDGE,    ETC.  305 

their  protracted  government  for  good  or  for  evil. 
Such  a  philosophy  as  that  of  the  First  Principles 
may  find  easy  admission,  with  its  brilliant  and  popu- 
lar intellectual  power ;  its  last  and  fatal  deductions 
may  be  made  but  slowly.  Yet,  for  these  reasons,  it 
is,  by  the  reflective  mind,  only  the  more  feared. 

The  sagacious  reformer  works  for  the  next  gener- 
ation more  than  for  his  own,  and  is  especially  fearful 
of  those  forces,  whose  fruits  of  mischief  are  still  hid- 
den in  them.  The  rotten-ripe  sins  of  the  world  are 
those  least  dangerous.  Yet  it  is  an  utterly  inade- 
quate and  unsatisfactory  treatment  of  such  works 
as  those  of  Spencer,  to  blow  against  them  a  swarm 
of  petty  criticisms.  They  are  too  compactly  con- 
structed, too  consistent  with  themselves,  to  be  af- 
fected by  minor  measures.  They  are,  in  their  lead- 
ing drift  either  greatly  right  or  greatly  wrong,  and 
which  it  is  must  be  determined  by  the  key  of  the  posi- 
tion, the  psychology.  In  a  satisfactory  attack,  there- 
fore, there  is  at  once  sprung  upon  us  a  most  difficult 
and  recondite  labor,  and  one  in  which  very  few  can 
engage,  or  which  they  can  observe.  It  is  not  easy 
to  find  another  book,  so  coherent,  so  clear,  so  subtile, 
so  abstruse,  and,  at  the  same  time,  so  fatally  erroneous 
and  mischievous  as  Spencer's  Principles  of  Psychol- 
ogy. This  fortress  must  be  carried,  this  ground 
swept,  or  those  many  and  far-reaching  outposts  which 
rest  upon  it  cannot  be  captured.  Philosophy  must 
be  called  to  its  own  defence,  and  the  defence  of  re- 
ligion, or  its  best  possessions  will  be  lost,  and  the 
protection  which  it  now  gives  to  ethical  truth,  be 
wholly  sacrificed. 


306  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

No  fact  in  the  progress  of  knowledge,  more  evinces 
the  relations  of  philosophy  to  religion  than  the  results 
of  Hume's  criticism  on  miracles.  This  criticism  is 
and  was  unanswerable  on  the  basis  of  the  Lockean 
philosophy  then  prevalent.  Hume  was  far  too  pow- 
erful for  most  of  his  assailants,  and,  even  to  our  own 
time,  rejoinders  have  been  made,  which  utterly  failed 
to  apprehend  the  discussion  and  were  altogether 
worthless.  They  were  mud  balls  flung  at  monu- 
mental granite.  They  might  disguise  its  lettering 
from  the  careless  passer-by,  but  could  do  nothing 
toward  effacing  it.  It  was  not  till  this  destructive 
criticism  forced  into  existence  a  new  philosophy,  a 
German  and  a  Scotch  school,  that  it  began  to  give 
ground.  Thus  ever  will  philosophy  show  itself  to  be 
the  citadel  of  truth,  of  which  every  religious,  social 
and  scientific  position  even,  are  but  out-posts. 

We  have,  therefore,  always,  reluctantly  or  other- 
wise, before  the  final  issue  of  any  intellectual  strug- 
gle, to  gird  ourselves  up  for  philosophy. 

Starting  with  a  defence  of  philosophy,  and  closing, 
in  view  of  all  its  relations,  with  a  further  enforcement 
of  its  necessity,  there  are  two  other  considerations 
which  we  wish  to  present  in  their  bearings  on  this 
topic.  Every  system  gathers  strength  for  the  mind 
whose  it  is,  by  the  mere  fact  of  familiarity.  All  beliefs, 
true  and  erroneous  are  open  to  the  same  liability. 
The  simple  fact,  that  they,  have  long  been  held  by  the 
mind,  gives  them  great  power  over  it.  .  Thought 
takes  on  itself  habit,  feels  the  ease  of  familiar  pro- 
cesses, the  strangeness  of  new  conclusions,  slides 
readily  on  old  ways,  and  accepts  new  principles  with 


CLASSIFICATION    OF    KNOWLEDGE,    ETC.  307 

hesitation  and  reluctance.  The  advanced  theorist 
may  urge  this  fact  as  an  objection  against  the  staid 
beliefs  of  the  past,  may  intimate  that  their  chief 
strength  lies  in  their  prescriptive  hold  upon  the  mind, 
that  it  is  mere  inertia  that  keeps  them  in  their  places  ; 
yet  every  attack  which  he  makes  under  his  own  faith, 
every  defence  of  it  which  he  enters  on,  tend  to  exactly 
the  same  result  in  his  own  belief,  till  much  of  his  con- 
viction, his  settled  firmness  of  faith,  is  only  another 
name  for  familiarity  ;  is  the  result  of  beating  hard  the 
path  of  thought  by  repeatedly  travelling  it.  All  par- 
ties, therefore,  who  are  really  in  search  of  the  truth, 
require  the  same  caution  to  avoid  the  unbelief  of  mere 
ignorance,  the  credulity  of  constant  credence. 

Our  own  customs  are  to  us  excellent,  our  own 
thoughts  sound,  our  own  feelings  natural  by  familiar- 
ity. Every  mind,  therefore,  requires,  from  time  to 
time,  a  violent  upheaval,  an  earnest  effort  to  look 
afresh  at  truth,  and  to  allow  an  unbiased  judgment  to 
reach  anew  its  conclusions.  The  needle,  too  cohesive, 
must  be  again  poised,  again  set  in  light  fluctuation 
under  every  magnetic  current.  Doubtless,  to  those 
who  have  tarried  long  in  one  field,  the  truths  of  every 
other  seem  vague,  remote,  often  untenable. 

Another  like  fact  is,  that  every  mind  tends  to  exclu- 
sion, to  concentration,  to  the  evolution  of  favorite 
conceptions.  This  is  inevitable  from  its  mere  finite- 
ness,  and  grateful  from  the  pleasing  unity  and  the 
apparent  triumphs  so  given  to  its  labors.  It  seems 
to  be  a  fancy  that  now  possesses  the  scientific  mind, 
that  absolute  identity,  complete  oneness,  is  to  be  more 
and  more  approached  in  the  laws  of  the   universe, 


308  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

and  in  its  forces.  Harmony,  symmetry,  perfect  inter- 
action of  manifold  things,  are  passing  over  into  the 
more  barren  conception  of  a  diversified  presentation 
of  one  or  more  central  forces  ;  a  necessary  evolution, 
according  to  one  and  the  same  law,  of  all  forms  of 
force.  The  point  of  difference  lies  as  to  the  depth  of 
the  diversities,  the  disagreements,  when  compared 
with  agreements.  Do  we  start  with  the  absolutely 
homogeneous,  or  with  irreconcilable  differences,  crea- 
tion shooting  out  new  lines  from  distinct  points  at 
the  very  outsets.  The  one  conception  favors  a  me- 
chanical universe,  referring  all  distinctions  to  posi- 
tion ;  and  the  other  a  vital  one,  one  of  infinite 
diversity  and  fulness.  The  very  force  of  this  desire 
after  an  artificial  unity  which  must  at  once  escape 
again  into  an  inexplicable  variety,  we  believe  to  rest 
on  the  gravitation  of  the  mind  toward  the  familiar, 
towards  its  own  mechanical  arrangement  and  hand- 
ling of  forces.  Yet  is  not  this  tendency  of  the  mind 
toward  the  universal  application  of  one  conception, 
the  constant  use  of  one  nostrum,  the  unlocking  of 
every  lock  with  one  key,  the  meeting  of  every  social 
evil  with  one  remedy,  shown  by  a  great  diversity  of 
experience  to  be  practically  pernicious  and  theoreti- 
cally false  ?  We  are  to  approach  truth  from  many 
quarters  ;  we  are  to  travel  each  road  in  both  direc- 
tions ;  we  are  to  plant  ourselves  in  firm  equipoise 
on  both  feet  ;  we  are  to  believe  that  those  who  have 
been  pursuing  favorite  studies  with  equal  diligence 
as  ourselves,  have,  doubtless,  for  us,  both  instruction 
and  correction  ;  that  the  earth  is  not  made  of  so 
many  parts,  the  races  of  men  are  not  so  multiplied, 


CLASSIFICATION    OF    KNOWLEDGE,    ETC.  309 

with  minds  so  diversified,  that  one  or  two  or  three 
should  explore  the  paths  of  sound  thought,  but  that 
each  from  remote  regions  may  bring  his  contribution. 

The  application  of  this  caution  is  plain  in  connec- 
tion with  all  philosophy.  That  system  which  is  most 
rigidly  one,  most  inflexible  to  all  outside  thought, 
most  persistently  developed  from  a  central  principle, 
presents  least  promise  of  complete  truth  ;  has,  doubt- 
less, sacrificed  it  most  frequently,  and  overlaid  the 
portion  it  possesses  of  it  with  the  greatest  burden  of 
error.  Such  a  scientific  spirit  is  of  the  exact  nature 
of  bigotry  :  it  has  in  it  neither  historic  nor  philosophic 
scope.  It  grows  by  interior  will ;  by  simple,  dead 
crystallization,  not  with  'the  safety  and  certainty  of 
external  adaptations — of  a  vigorous  tree,  in  a  favor- 
able clime,  under  sufficient  nourishment. 

The  simple  fact  then,  that  intuitive  philosophy 
covers  both  sides  of  human  life  instead  of  one,  two 
series  of  facts  instead  of  a  single  series  ;  that  it 
gathers  and  compacts  in  its  own  system  truths  from 
the  idealist  and  materialist  alike ;  that  it  roots  itself 
in  history,  and  accepts  the  present  with  no  sacrifice 
of  the  past ;  that  it  starts  from  independent  points, 
and  reaches  harmony,  not  identity  ;  finds  more  mys- 
teries than  one,  yet  every  mystery  a  lighted  torch  for 
all  about  it ;  this  fact,  this  series  of  facts,  makes 
strongly  for  the  general  truth  of  those  doctrines  which 
many  minds,  under  many  diverse  impulses,  have 
united  to  shape,  and  which  have  discovered  no  set- 
tled affinity  for  any  one  class  of  thinkers.  It  is  not 
more  strange  that  the  mind  should  have  many  diverse 
ideas ;  that  to  each  of  them  should  belong  its  prov- 


3IO  SCIENCE,    PHILOSOPHY    AND    RELIGION. 

ince ;  that  it  should  be  laid  on  that  mind  to  discover 
this  fact,  and  throw  order  and  consistency  into  its 
action  by  confining  each  faculty  to  its  own  labor, 
than  that  the  external  world  should  have  its  kingdoms 
waiting  classification,  each  involving  distinct  forces  ; 
or  that  human  conduct  and  character  and  destiny 
should  turn  upon  so  many  different  ends,  often  in 
conflict  with  each  other,  and  to  be  harmonized  by 
wise  selection,  by  careful  inquiry  and  close  restraint. 

It  is  the  excellency  of  the  philosophy  now  urged  ; 
that  it  meets  with  response  in  so  many  directions  ; 
that  it  has  a  law  for  matter,  and  a  law  for  mind  ;  that 
it  looks  earthward,  but  loses  not  thereby  its  power  to 
look  heavenward  ;  that  it  has  a  solution  for  the  super- 
stitions of  religion,  and  the  incredulities  of  science  ; 
that  it  can  believe  here  and  hold  fast  there  ;  that  its 
faith  is  not  weakened  by  its  speculations,  nor  its 
speculations  banished  by  its  faith  ;  that  it  speaks  to 
the  affections  of  the  soul,  and  kindles  its  inspirations 
without  wasting  or  diminishing  its  household  goods 
of  sagacity  and  prudence  and  forethought ;  that  it  has 
a  place  and  lodgement  for  all  that  any  man,  or  any 
prophet,  or  Christ,  can  bring  it  from  below  or  above, 
from  the  visible  or  invisible.  Such  a  philosophy,  so 
searching  the  soul  with  its  voice,  has  on  it  the  seal 
of  truth — flexible,  capacious,  historic  power. 

One  stands  upon  the  shore  of  a  lake  imbedded  in 
the  unbroken  forest.  His  words  come  back  to  him 
with  strange  distinctness  from  the  farther  banks. 
Every  tree  and  shrub  in  their  deep  recesses  seem  to 
have  united  with  every  other  in  gathering  up  and 
replicating  the  sound.      Later,  one  stands  again  at 


CLASSIFICATION    OF    KONWLEDGE,    ETC.  3 1 1 

the  familiar  spot,  but  the  woodman's  axe  has  made 
great  rents  in  the  forest.  The  charm  is  gone,  and 
the  spent  echo  has  lost  its  fascination  ;  too  little  life 
is  there  to  make  answer  to  the  life  of  the  spirit.  One 
must  win  back  the  woods,  the  unbroken  forest  depths, 
if  he  would  hear  again  those  words  returning  to  the 
ear  in  clear,  distinct,  startling  utterance.  Many 
standing  in  the  dusty  ways  of  life,  lift  up  their  voices 
over  its  naked  hills  and  cultivated  fields,  and  the 
sounds  pass  forth  blank  and  echoless  from  their  lips. 
He  that  speaks  in  the  solitude  of  the  soul,  in  the 
presence  of  its  unwasted  emotions,  catches  the  ear 
of  the  spiritual  world,  and  listens  in  turn  to  its  dis- 
tinct answers. 

Philosophy  can  wait ;  the  question  is,  whether  men 
can  afford  to  wait  for  philosophy  ?  whether  there  will 
not  be  a  loss  of  vantage  ground,  a  slipping  from  the 
heights  of  spiritual  strength,  by  these  unbalanced  in- 
quiries into  material  things,  by  this  uncompensated 
pursuit  of  material  ends  ?  Well  it  is  to  possess  the 
world  ;  but  let  us  possess  it,  not  be  possessed  by  it, 
possess  it  for  ourselves,  for  those  high  and  holy  ends 
we  find,  and  find  only,  in  searching  into  the  plan  of 
our  own  being,  its  present  and  potential  powers. 


THE  END.