FOOTNOTES:
[33] See Prospective Review for January, 1852.
[34] His criticism will be found in the National Review for January, 1856, under the title "Atheism."
[35] Hereafter I hope to elucidate at length these phenomena of expression. For the present, I can refer only to such further indications as are contained in two essays on "The Physiology of Laughter" and "The Origin and Function of Music."
[36] I may add that in Social Statics, chap. xxx., I have indicated, in a general way, the causes of the development of sympathy and the restraints upon its development—confining the discussion, however, to the case of the human race, my subject limiting me to that. The accompanying teleology I now disclaim.
THE COMPARATIVE PSYCHOLOGY OF MAN.
[Originally read before the Anthropological Institute, and afterwards published in Mind, for January, 1876.]
While discussing with two members of the Anthropological Institute the work to be undertaken by its psychological section, I made certain suggestions which they requested me to put in writing. When reminded, some months after, of the promise I had made to do this, I failed to recall the particular suggestions referred to; but in the endeavour to remember them, I was led to glance over the whole subject of comparative human psychology. Hence resulted the following paper.
That making a general survey is useful as a preliminary to deliberate study, either of a whole or of any part, scarcely needs showing. Vagueness of thought accompanies the wandering about in a region without known bounds or landmarks. Attention devoted to some portion of a subject in ignorance of its connexion with the rest, leads to untrue conceptions. The whole cannot be rightly conceived without some knowledge of the parts; and no part can be rightly conceived out of relation to the whole.
To map out the Comparative Psychology of Man must also conduce to the more methodic carrying on of inquiries. In this, as in other things, division of labour will facilitate progress; and that there may be division of labour, the work itself must be systematically divided.
We may conveniently separate the entire subject into three main divisions, and may arrange them in the order of increasing speciality.
The first division will treat of the degrees of mental evolution of different human types, generally considered: taking account of both the mass of mental manifestation and the complexity of mental manifestation. This division will include the relations of these characters to physical characters—the bodily mass and structure, and the cerebral mass and structure. It will also include inquiries concerning the time taken in completing mental evolution, and the time during which adult mental power lasts; as well as certain most general traits of mental action, such as the greater or less persistence of emotions and of intellectual processes. The connexion between the general mental type and the general social type should also be here dealt with.
In the second division may be conveniently placed apart, inquiries concerning the relative mental natures of the sexes in each race. Under it will come such questions as these:—What differences of mental mass and mental complexity, if any, existing between males and females, are common to all races? Do such differences vary in degree, or in kind, or in both? Are there reasons for thinking that they are liable to change by increase or decrease? What relations do they bear in each case to the habits of life, the domestic arrangements, and the social arrangements? This division should also include in its scope the sentiments of the sexes towards one another, considered as varying quantitatively and qualitatively; as well as their respective sentiments towards offspring, similarly varying.
For the third division of inquiries may be reserved the more special mental traits distinguishing different types of men. One class of such specialities results from differences of proportion among faculties possessed in common; and another class results from the presence in some races of faculties that are almost or quite absent from others. Each difference in each of these groups, when established by comparison, has to be studied in connexion with the stage of mental evolution reached, and has to be studied in connexion with the habits of life and the social development, regarding it as related to these both as cause and as consequence.
Such being the outlines of these several divisions, let us now consider in detail the subdivisions contained within each.
I.—Under the head of general mental evolution we may begin with the trait of—
1. Mental mass.—Daily experiences show us that human beings differ in volume of mental manifestation. Some there are whose intelligence, high though it may be, produces little impression on those around; while there are some who, when uttering even commonplaces, do it so as to affect listeners in a disproportionate degree. Comparison of two such, makes it manifest that, generally, the difference is due to the natural language of the emotions. Behind the intellectual quickness of the one there is not felt any power of character; while the other betrays a momentum capable of bearing down opposition—a potentiality of emotion that has something formidable about it. Obviously the varieties of mankind differ much in respect of this trait. Apart from kind of feeling, they are unlike in amount of feeling. The dominant races overrun the inferior races mainly in virtue of the greater quantity of energy in which this greater mental mass shows itself. Hence a series of inquiries, of which these are some:—(a) What is the relation between mental mass and bodily mass? Manifestly, the small races are deficient in it. But it also appears that races much upon a par in size—as, for instance, an Englishman and a Damara, differ considerably in mental mass. (b) What is its relation to mass of brain? and, bearing in mind the general law that in the same species, size of brain increases with size of body (though not in the same proportion), how far can we connect the extra mental mass of the higher races, with an extra mass of brain beyond that which is proper to their greater bodily mass? (c) What relation, if any, is there between mental mass and the physiological state expressed in vigour of circulation and richness of blood, as severally determined by mode of life and general nutrition? (d) What are the relations of this trait to the social state, as nomadic or settled, predatory or industrial?
2. Mental complexity.—How races differ in respect of the more or less involved structures of their minds, will best be understood on recalling the unlikeness between the juvenile mind and the adult mind among ourselves. In the child we see absorption in special facts. Generalities even of a low order are scarcely recognized, and there is no recognition of high generalities. We see interest in individuals, in personal adventures, in domestic affairs, but no interest in political or social matters. We see vanity about clothes and small achievements, but little sense of justice: witness the forcible appropriation of one another's toys. While there have come into play many of the simpler mental powers, there has not yet been reached that complication of mind which results from the addition of powers evolved out of these simpler ones. Kindred differences of complexity exist between the minds of lower and higher races; and comparisons should be made to ascertain their kinds and amounts. Here, too, there may be a subdivision of the inquiries. (a) What is the relation between mental complexity and mental mass? Do not the two habitually vary together? (b) What is the relation to the social state, as more or less complex? that is to say—Do not mental complexity and social complexity act and react on each other?
3. Rate of mental development.—In conformity with the biological law that the higher the organisms the longer they take to evolve, members of the inferior human races may be expected to complete their mental evolution sooner than members of the superior races; and we have evidence that they do this. Travellers from many regions comment, now on the great precocity of children among savage and semi-civilized peoples, and now on the early arrest of their mental progress. Though we scarcely need more proofs that this general contrast exists, there remains to be asked the question, whether it is consistently maintained throughout all groups of races, from the lowest to the highest—whether, say, the Australian differs in this respect from the Hindu, as much as the Hindu does from the European. Of secondary inquiries coming under this sub-head may be named several. (a) Is this more rapid evolution and earlier arrest always unequally shown by the two sexes; or, in other words, are there in lower types proportional differences in rate and degree of development, such as higher types show us? (b) Is there in many cases, as there appears to be in some cases, a traceable relation between the period of arrest and the period of puberty? (c) Is mental decay early in proportion as mental evolution is rapid? (d) Can we in other respects assert that where the type is low, the entire cycle of mental changes between birth and death—ascending, uniform, descending—comes within a shorter interval?
4. Relative plasticity.—Is there any relation between the degree of mental modifiability which remains in adult life, and the character of the mental evolution in respect of mass, complexity, and rapidity? The animal kingdom at large yields reasons for associating an inferior and more rapidly-completed mental structure, with a relatively automatic nature. Lowly organized creatures, guided almost entirely by reflex actions, are in but small degrees changeable by individual experiences. As the nervous structure complicates, its actions become less rigorously confined within pre-established limits; and as we approach the highest creatures, individual experiences take larger and larger shares in moulding the conduct: there is an increasing ability to take in new impressions and to profit by the acquisitions. Inferior and superior human races are contrasted in this respect. Many travellers comment on the unchangeable habits of savages. The semi-civilized nations of the East, past and present, were, or are, characterized by a greater rigidity of custom than characterizes the more civilized nations of the West. The histories of the most civilized nations show us that in their earlier times, the modifiability of ideas and habits was less than it is at present. And if we contrast classes or individuals around us, we see that the most developed in mind are the most plastic. To inquiries respecting this trait of comparative plasticity, in its relations to precocity and early completion of mental development, may fitly be added inquiries respecting its relations to the social state, which it helps to determine, and which reacts upon it.
5. Variability.—To say of a mind that its actions are extremely inconstant, and at the same time to say that it is of relatively unchangeable nature, apparently implies a contradiction. When, however, the inconstancy is understood as referring to the manifestations which follow one another from minute to minute, and the unchangeableness to the average manifestations, extending over long periods, the apparent contradiction disappears; and it becomes comprehensible that the two traits may, and ordinarily do, co-exist. An infant, quickly wearied with each kind of perception, wanting ever a new object which it soon abandons for something else, and alternating a score times a day between smiles and tears, shows us a very small persistence in each kind of mental action: all its states, intellectual and emotional, are transient. Yet at the same time its mind cannot be easily changed in character. True, it changes spontaneously in due course; but it long remains incapable of receiving ideas or emotions beyond those of simple orders. The child exhibits less rapid variations, intellectual and emotional, while its educability is greater. Inferior human races show us this combination: great rigidity of general character with great irregularity in its passing manifestations. Speaking broadly, while they resist permanent modification, they lack intellectual persistence, and they lack emotional persistence. Of various low types we read that they cannot keep the attention fixed beyond a few minutes on anything requiring thought, even of a simple kind. Similarly with their feelings: these are less enduring than those of civilized men. There are, however, qualifications to be made in this statement; and comparisons are needed to ascertain how far these qualifications go. The savage shows great persistence in the action of the lower intellectual faculties. He is untiring in minute observation. He is untiring, also, in that kind of perceptive activity which accompanies the making of his weapons and ornaments: often persevering for immense periods in carving stones, &c. Emotionally, too, he shows persistence not only in the motives prompting these small industries, but also in certain of his passions—especially in that of revenge. Hence, in studying the degrees of mental variability shown us in the daily lives of the different races, we must ask how far variability characterizes the whole mind, and how far it holds only of parts of the mind.
6. Impulsiveness.—This trait is closely allied with the last: unenduring emotions are emotions which sway the conduct now this way and now that, without any consistency. The trait of impulsiveness may, however, be fitly dealt with separately, because it has other implications than mere lack of persistence. Comparisons of the lower human races with the higher, appear generally to show that, along with brevity of the passions, there goes violence. The sudden gusts of feeling which men of inferior types display, are excessive in degree as they are short in duration; and there is probably a connexion between these two traits: intensity sooner producing exhaustion. Observing that the passions of childhood illustrate this connexion, let us turn to certain interesting questions concerning the decrease of impulsiveness which accompanies advance in evolution. The nervous processes of an impulsive being, are less remote from reflex actions than are those of an unimpulsive being. In reflex actions we see a simple stimulus passing suddenly into movement: little or no control being exercised by other parts of the nervous system. As we ascend to higher actions, guided by more and more complicated combinations of stimuli, there is not the same instantaneous discharge in simple motions; but there is a comparatively deliberate and more variable adjustment of compound motions, duly restrained and proportioned. It is thus with the passions and sentiments in the less developed natures and in the more developed natures. Where there is but little emotional complexity, an emotion, when excited by some occurrence, explodes in action before the other emotions have been called into play; and each of these, from time to time, does the like. But the more complex emotional structure is one in which these simpler emotions are so co-ordinated that they do not act independently. Before excitement of any one has had time to cause action, some excitement has been communicated to others—often antagonistic ones; and the conduct becomes modified in adjustment to the combined dictates. Hence results a decreased impulsiveness, and also a greater persistence. The conduct pursued, being prompted by several emotions co-operating in degrees which do not exhaust them, acquires a greater continuity; and while spasmodic force becomes less conspicuous, there is an increase in the total energy. Examining the facts from this point of view, there are sundry questions of interest to be put respecting the different races of men. (a) To what other traits than degree of mental evolution is impulsiveness related? Apart from difference in elevation of type, the New-World races seem to be less impulsive than the Old-World races. Is this due to constitutional apathy? Can there be traced (other things equal) a relation between physical vivacity and mental impulsiveness? (b) What connexion is there between this trait and the social state? Clearly a very explosive nature—such as that of the Bushman—is unfit for social union; and, commonly, social union, when by any means established, checks impulsiveness. (c) What respective shares in checking impulsiveness are taken by the feelings which the social state fosters—such as the fear of surrounding individuals, the instinct of sociality, the desire to accumulate property, the sympathetic feelings, the sentiment of justice? These, which require a social environment for their development, all of them involve imaginations of consequences more or less distant; and thus imply checks upon the promptings of the simpler passions. Hence arise the questions—In what order, in what degrees, and in what combinations, do they come into play?
7. One further general inquiry of a different kind may be added. What effect is produced on mental nature by mixture of races? There is reason for believing that throughout the animal kingdom, the union of varieties which have become widely divergent is physically injurious; while the union of slightly divergent varieties is physically beneficial. Does the like hold with the mental nature? Some facts seem to show that mixture of human races extremely unlike, produces a worthless type of mind—a mind fitted neither for the kind of life led by the higher of the two races, nor for that led by the lower—a mind out of adjustment to all conditions of life. Contrariwise, we find that peoples of the same stock, slightly differentiated by lives carried on in unlike circumstances for many generations, produce by mixture a mental type having certain superiorities. In his work on The Huguenots, Mr. Smiles points out how large a number of distinguished men among us have descended from Flemish and French refugees; and M. Alphonse de Candolle, in his Histoire des Sciences et des Savants depuis deux Siècles, shows that the descendants of French refugees in Switzerland have produced an unusually great proportion of scientific men. Though, in part, this result may be ascribed to the original natures of such refugees, who must have had that independence which is a chief factor in originality, yet it is probably in part due to mixtures of races. For thinking this, we have evidence which is not open to two interpretations. Prof. Morley draws attention to the fact that, during seven hundred years of our early history "the best genius of England sprang up on the line of country in which Celts and Anglo-Saxons came together." In like manner Mr. Galton, in his English Men of Science, shows that in recent days these have mostly come from an inland region, running generally from north to south, which we may reasonably presume contains more mixed blood than do the regions east and west of it. Such a result seems probable a priori. Two natures respectively adapted to slightly unlike sets of social conditions, may be expected by their union to produce a nature somewhat more plastic than either—a nature more impressible by the new circumstances of advancing social life, and therefore more likely to originate new ideas and display modified sentiments. The Comparative Psychology of Man may, then, fitly include the mental effects of mixture; and among derivative inquiries we may ask—How far the conquest of race by race has been instrumental in advancing civilization by aiding mixture, as well as in other ways.
II.—The second of the three leading divisions named at the outset is less extensive. Still, concerning the relative mental natures of the sexes in each race, questions of much interest and importance may be raised.
1. Degree of difference between the sexes.—It is an established fact that, physically considered, the contrast between males and females is not equally great in all types of mankind. The bearded races, for instance, show us a greater unlikeness between the two than do the beardless races. Among South American tribes, men and women have a greater general resemblance in form, &c., than is usual elsewhere. The question, then, suggests itself—Do the mental natures of the sexes differ in a constant or in a variable degree? The difference is unlikely to be a constant one; and, looking for variation, we may ask what is its amount, and under what conditions does it occur?
2. Difference in mass and in complexity.—The comparisons between the sexes, of course, admit of subdivisions parallel to those made in the comparisons between races. Relative mental mass and relative mental complexity have chiefly to be observed. Assuming that the great inequality in the cost of reproduction to the two sexes, is the cause of unlikeness in mental mass, as in physical mass, this difference may be studied in connexion with reproductive differences presented by the various races, in respect of the ages at which reproduction commences, and the periods over which it lasts. An allied inquiry may be joined with this; namely, how far the mental developments of the two sexes are affected by their relative habits in respect to food and physical exertion? In many of the lower races, the women, treated with great brutality, are, physically, much inferior to the men: excess of labour and defect of nutrition being apparently the combined causes. Is any arrest of mental development simultaneously caused?
3. Variation of the differences.—If the unlikeness, physical and mental, of the sexes is not constant, then, supposing all races have diverged from one original stock, it follows that there must have been transmission of accumulated differences to those of the same sex in posterity. If, for instance, the prehistoric type of man was beardless, then the production of a bearded variety implies that within that variety the males continued to transmit an increasing amount of beard to descendants of the same sex. This limitation of heredity by sex, shown us in multitudinous ways throughout the animal kingdom, probably applies to the cerebral structures as much as to other structures. Hence the question—Do not the mental natures of the sexes in alien types of Man diverge in unlike ways and degrees?
4. Causes of the differences.—Are any relations to be traced between these variable differences and the variable parts the sexes play in the business of life? Assuming the cumulative effects of habit on function and structure, as well as the limitation of heredity by sex, it is to be expected that if, in any society, the activities of one sex, generation after generation, differ from those of the other, there will arise sexual adaptations of mind. Some instances in illustration may be named. Among the Africans of Loango and other districts, as also among some of the Indian Hill-tribes, the men and women are strongly contrasted as respectively inert and energetic: the industry of the women having apparently become so natural to them that no coercion is needed. Of course, such facts suggest an extensive series of questions. Limitation of heredity by sex may account both for those sexual differences of mind which distinguish men and women in all races, and for those which distinguish them in each race, or each society. An interesting subordinate inquiry may be, how far such mental differences are inverted in cases where there is inversion of social and domestic relations; as among those Khasi Hill-tribes, whose women have so far the upper hand that they turn off their husbands in a summary way if they displease them.
5. Mental modifiability in the two sexes.—Along with comparisons of races in respect of mental plasticity may go parallel comparisons of the sexes in each race. Is it true always, as it appears to be generally true, that women are less modifiable than men? The relative conservatism of women—their greater adhesion to established ideas and practices—is manifest in many civilized and semi-civilized societies. Is it so among the uncivilized? A curious instance of stronger attachment to custom in women than in men is given by Dalton, as occurring among the Juangs, one of the lowest wild tribes of Bengal. Until recently the only dress of both sexes was something less than that which the Hebrew legend gives to Adam and Eve. Years ago the men were led to adopt a cloth bandage round the loins, in place of the bunch of leaves; but the women adhered to the aboriginal habit: a conservatism shown where it might have been least expected.
6. The sexual sentiment.—Results of value may be looked for from comparisons of races made to determine the amounts and characters of the higher feelings to which the relation of the sexes gives rise. The lowest varieties of mankind have but small endowments of these feelings. Among varieties of higher types, such as the Malayo-Polynesians, these feelings seem considerably developed: the Dyaks, for instance, sometimes display them in great strength. Speaking generally, they appear to become stronger with the advance of civilization. Several subordinate inquiries may be named. (a) How far is development of the sexual sentiment dependent upon intellectual advance—upon growth of imaginative power? (b) How far is it related to emotional advance; and especially to evolution of those emotions which originate from sympathy? What are its relations to polyandry and polygyny? (c) Does it not tend towards, and is it not fostered by, monogamy? (d) What connexion has it with maintenance of the family bond, and the consequent better rearing of children?
III.—Under the third head, to which we may now pass come the more special traits of the different races.
1. Imitativeness.—One of the characteristics in which the lower types of men show us a smaller departure from reflex action than do the higher types, is their strong tendency to mimic the motions and sounds made by others—an almost involuntary habit which travellers find it difficult to check. This meaningless repetition, which seems to imply that the idea of an observed action cannot be framed in the mind of the observer without tending forthwith to discharge itself in the action conceived (and every ideal action is a nascent form of the consciousness accompanying performance of such action), evidently diverges but little from the automatic; and decrease of it is to be expected along with increase of self-regulating power. This trait of automatic mimicry is evidently allied with that less automatic mimicry which shows itself in greater persistence of customs. For customs adopted by each generation from the last without thought or inquiry, imply a tendency to imitate which overmasters critical and sceptical tendencies: so maintaining habits for which no reasons can be given. The decrease of this irrational mimicry, strongest in the lowest savage and feeblest in the highest of the civilized, should be studied along with the successively higher stages of social life, as being at once an aid and a hindrance to civilization: an aid in so far as it gives that fixity to the social organization without which a society cannot survive; a hindrance in so far as it offers resistance to changes of social organization that have become desirable.
2. Incuriosity.—Projecting our own natures into the circumstances of the savage, we imagine ourselves as marvelling greatly on first seeing the products and appliances of civilized life. But we err in supposing that the savage has feelings such as we should have in his place. Want of rational curiosity respecting these incomprehensible novelties, is a trait remarked of the lowest races wherever found; and the partially-civilized races are distinguished from them as exhibiting rational curiosity. The relation of this trait to the intellectual nature, to the emotional nature, and to the social state, should be studied.
3. Quality of thought.—Under this vague head may be placed many sets of inquiries, each of them extensive—(a) The degree of generality of the ideas; (b) the degree of abstractness of the ideas; (c) the degree of definiteness of the ideas; (d) the degree of coherence of the ideas; (e) the extent to which there have been developed such notions as those of class, of cause, of uniformity, of law, of truth. Many conceptions which have become so familiar to us that we assume them to be the common property of all minds, are no more possessed by the lowest savages than they are by our own children; and comparisons of types should be so made as to elucidate the processes by which such conceptions are reached. The development under each head has to be observed—(a) independently in its successive stages; (b) in connexion with the co-operative intellectual conceptions; (c) in connexion with the progress of language, of the arts, and of social organization. Already linguistic phenomena have been used in aid of such inquiries; and more systematic use of them should be made. Not only the number of general words, and the number of abstract words, in a people's vocabulary should be taken as evidence, but also their degrees of generality and abstractness; for there are generalities of the first, second, third, &c., orders, and abstractions similarly ascending. Blue is an abstraction referring to one class of impressions derived from visible objects; colour is a higher abstraction referring to many such classes of visual impressions; property is a still higher abstraction referring to classes of impressions received not through the eyes alone, but through other sense-organs. If generalities and abstractions were arranged in the order of their extensiveness and in the order of their grades, tests would be obtained which, applied to the vocabularies of the uncivilized, would yield definite evidence of the intellectual stages reached.
4. Peculiar aptitudes.—To such specialities of intelligence as mark different degrees of evolution, have to be added minor ones related to modes of life: the kinds and degrees of faculty which have become organized in adaptation to daily habits—skill in the use of weapons, powers of tracking, quick discrimination of individual objects. And under this head may fitly come inquiries concerning some race-peculiarities of the æsthetic class, not at present explicable. While the remains from the Dordogne caves show us that their inhabitants, low as we must suppose them to have been, could represent animals, both by drawing and carving, with some degree of fidelity; there are existing races, probably higher in other respects, who seem scarcely capable of recognizing pictorial representations. Similarly with the musical faculty. Almost or quite wanting in some inferior races, we find it in other races not of high grade, developed to an unexpected degree: instance the Negroes, some of whom are so innately musical, that, as I have been told by a missionary among them, the children in native schools when taught European psalm-tunes, spontaneously sing seconds to them. Whether any causes can be discovered for race peculiarities of this kind, is a question of interest.
5. Specialities of emotional nature.—These are worthy of careful study, as being intimately related to social phenomena—to the possibility of social progress, and to the nature of the social structure. Among others to be noted there are—(a) Gregariousness or sociality—a trait in the strength of which races differ widely: some, as the Mantras, being almost indifferent to social intercourse; some being unable to dispense with it. Obviously the degree of this desire for the presence of fellow-men, affects greatly the formation of social groups, and consequently influences social progress. (b) Intolerance of restraint. Men of some inferior types, as the Mapuché, are ungovernable; while those of other types, no higher in grade, not only submit to restraint, but admire the persons exercising it. These contrasted natures have to be observed in connexion with social evolution; to the early stages of which they are respectively antagonistic and favourable. (c) The desire for praise is a trait which, common to all races, high and low, varies considerably in degree. There are quite inferior races, as some of those in the Pacific States, whose members sacrifice without stint to gain the applause which lavish generosity brings; while, elsewhere, applause is sought with less eagerness. Notice should be taken of the connexion between this love of approbation and the social restraints; since it plays an important part in the maintenance of them. (d) The acquisitive propensity. This, too, is a character the degrees of which, and the relations of which to the social state, have to be especially noted. The desire for property grows along with the possibility of gratifying it; and this, extremely small among the lowest men, increases as social development goes on. With the advance from tribal property to family property and individual property, the notion of private right of possession gains definiteness, and the love of acquisition strengthens. Each step towards an orderly social state makes larger accumulations possible, and the pleasures achievable by them more sure; while the resulting encouragement to accumulate, leads to increase of capital and to further progress. This action and re-action of the sentiment and the social state, should be in every case observed.
6. The altruistic sentiments.—Coming last, these are also highest. The evolution of them in the course of civilization, shows us clearly the reciprocal influences of the social unit and the social organism. On the one hand, there can be no sympathy, nor any of the sentiments which sympathy generates, unless there are fellow-beings around. On the other hand, maintenance of union with fellow-beings depends in part on the presence of sympathy, and the resulting restraints on conduct. Gregariousness or sociality favours the growth of sympathy; increased sympathy conduces to closer sociality and a more stable social state; and so, continuously, each increment of the one makes possible a further increment of the other. Comparisons of the altruistic sentiments resulting from sympathy, as exhibited in different types of men and different social states, may be conveniently arranged under three heads—(a) Pity, which should be observed as displayed towards offspring, towards the sick and aged, and towards enemies. (b) Generosity (duly discriminated from the love of display) as shown in giving; as shown in the relinquishment of pleasures for the sake of others; as shown by active efforts on others' behalf. The manifestations of this sentiment, too, are to be noted in respect of their range—whether they are limited to relatives; whether they extend only to those of the same society; whether they extend to those of other societies; and they are also to be noted in connexion with the degree of providence—whether they result from sudden impulses obeyed without counting the cost, or go along with clear foresight of the future sacrifices entailed. (c) Justice. This most abstract of the altruistic sentiments is to be considered under aspects like those just named, as well as under many other aspects—how far it is shown in regard to the lives of others; how far in regard to their freedom; how far in regard to their property; how far in regard to their various minor claims. And comparisons concerning this highest sentiment should, beyond all others, be carried on along with comparisons of the accompanying social states, which it largely determines—the forms and actions of governments; the characters of laws; the relations of classes.
Such, stated as briefly as consists with clearness, are the leading divisions and subdivisions under which the Comparative Psychology of Man may be arranged. In going rapidly over so wide a field, I have doubtless overlooked much that should be included. Doubtless, too, various of the inquiries named will branch out into subordinate inquiries well worth pursuing. Even as it is, however, the programme is extensive enough to occupy numerous investigators, who may with advantage take separate divisions.
Though, after occupying themselves with primitive arts and products, anthropologists have devoted their attention mainly to the physical characters of the human races; it must, I think, be admitted that the study of these yields in importance to the study of their psychical characters. The general conclusions to which the first set of inquiries may lead, cannot so much affect our views respecting the highest classes of phenomena as can the general conclusions to which the second set may lead. A true theory of the human mind vitally concerns us; and systematic comparisons of human minds, differing in their kinds and grades, will help us in forming a true theory. Knowledge of the reciprocal relations between the characters of men and the characters of the societies they form, must influence profoundly our ideas of political arrangements. When the inter-dependence of individual natures and social structures is understood, our conceptions of the changes now taking place, and hereafter to take place, will be rectified. A comprehension of mental development as a process of adaptation to social conditions, which are continually remoulding the mind and are again remoulded by it, will conduce to a salutary consciousness of the remoter effects produced by institutions upon character; and will check the grave mischiefs which ignorant legislation now causes. Lastly, a right theory of mental evolution as exhibited by humanity at large, giving a key, as it does, to the evolution of the individual mind, must help to rationalize our perverse methods of education; and so to raise intellectual power and moral nature.
MR. MARTINEAU ON EVOLUTION.
[First published in The Contemporary Review, for June, 1872.]
The article by Mr. Martineau, in the April number of the Contemporary Review, on "The Place of Mind in Nature, and Intuition of Man," recalled to me a partially-formed intention to deal with the chief criticisms which have from time to time been made on the general doctrine set forth in First Principles; since, though not avowedly directed against propositions asserted or implied in that work, Mr. Martineau's reasoning tells against them by implication. The fulfilment of this intention I should, however, have continued to postpone, had I not learned that the arguments of Mr. Martineau are supposed by many to be conclusive, and that, in the absence of replies, it will be assumed that no replies can be made. It seems desirable, therefore, to notice these arguments at once—especially as the essential ones may, I think, be effectually dealt with in a comparatively small space.
The first definite objection which Mr. Martineau raises is, that the hypothesis of General Evolution is powerless to account even for the simpler orders of facts in the absence of numerous different substances. He argues that were matter all of one kind, no such phenomena as chemical changes would be possible; and that, "in order to start the world on its chemical career, you must enlarge its capital and present it with an outfit of heterogeneous constituents. Try, therefore, the effect of such a gift; fling into the pre-existing cauldron the whole list of recognized elementary substances, and give leave to their affinities to work." The intended implication obviously is, that there must exist the separately-created elements before evolution can begin.
Here, however, Mr. Martineau makes an assumption which few, if any, chemists will commit themselves to, and which many will distinctly deny. There are no "recognized elementary substances," if the expression means substances known to be elementary. What chemists, for convenience, call elementary substances, are merely substances which they have thus far failed to decompose; but, bearing in mind past experiences, they do not dare to say that they are absolutely undecomposable. Water was taken to be an element for more than two thousand years, and then was proved to be a compound; and, until Davy brought a galvanic current to bear upon them, the alkalies and the earths were supposed to be elements. So little true is it that "recognized elementary substances" are supposed to be absolutely elementary, that there has been much speculation among chemists respecting the process of compounding and recompounding by which they have been formed out of some ultimate substance—some chemists having supposed the atom of hydrogen to be the unit of composition, but others having contended that the atomic weights of the so-called elements are not thus interpretable. If I remember rightly, Sir John Herschel was one, among others, who, some five-and-twenty years ago, threw out suggestions respecting a system of compounding that might explain these relations of the atomic weights.
What was at that time a suspicion has now become practically a certainty. Spectrum-analysis yields results wholly irreconcilable with the assumption that the conventionally-named simple substances are really simple. Each yields a spectrum having lines varying in number from two to eighty or more, every one of which implies the intercepting of ethereal undulations of a certain order by something oscillating in unison or in harmony with them. Were iron absolutely elementary, it is not conceivable that its atom could intercept ethereal undulations of eighty different orders. Though it does not follow that its molecule contains as many separate atoms as there are lines in its spectrum, it must clearly be a complex molecule. The evidence thus gained points to the conclusion that, out of some primordial units, the so-called elements arise by compounding and recompounding; just as by the compounding and recompounding of so-called elements there arise oxides, and acids, and salts.
And this hypothesis is entirely in harmony with the phenomena of allotropy. Various substances, conventionally distinguished as simple, have several forms under which they present quite different properties. The semi-transparent, colourless, extremely active substance called phosphorus may be so changed as to become opaque, dark red, and inert. Like changes are known to occur in some gaseous, non-metallic elements, as oxygen; and also in metallic elements, as antimony. These total changes of properties, brought about without any changes to be called chemical, are interpretable only as due to molecular rearrangements; and, by showing that difference of property is producible by difference of arrangement, they support the inference otherwise to be drawn, that the properties of different elements result from differences of arrangement arising by the compounding and recompounding of ultimate homogeneous units.
Thus Mr. Martineau's objection, which at best would imply a turning of our ignorance of the nature of elements into positive knowledge that they are simple, is, in fact, to be met by two sets of evidences, which imply that they are compound.
Mr. Martineau next alleges that a fatal difficulty is put in the way of the General Doctrine of Evolution by the existence of a chasm between the living and the not-living. He says:—"But with all your enlargement of data, turn them as you will, at the end of every passage which they explore, the door of life is closed against them still." Here again our ignorance is employed to play the part of knowledge. The fact that we do not know distinctly how an alleged transition has taken place, is transformed into the assumption that no transition has taken place. We have, in a more general shape, the argument which until lately was thought conclusive—the argument that because the genesis of each species of creature had not been explained, therefore each species must have been separately created.
Merely noting this, however, I go on to remark that scientific discovery is day by day narrowing the chasm, or, to vary Mr. Martineau's metaphor, "opening the door." Not many years since, it was held as certain that the chemical compounds distinguished as organic could not be formed artificially. Now, more than a thousand organic compounds have been formed artificially. Chemists have discovered the art of building them up from the simpler to the more complex, and do not doubt that they will eventually produce the most complex. Moreover, the phenomena attending isomeric change give a clue to those movements which are the only indications we have of life in its lowest forms. In various colloidal substances, including the albuminoid, isomeric change is accompanied by contraction or expansion, and consequent motion; and, in such primordial types as the Protogenes of Haeckel, which do not differ in appearance from minute portions of albumen, the observed motions are comprehensible as accompanying isomeric changes caused by variations in surrounding physical actions. The probability of this interpretation will be seen on remembering the evidence we have that, in the higher organisms, many functions are essentially effected by isomeric changes from one to another of the multitudinous forms which protein assumes.
Thus the reply to this objection is, first, that there is going on from both sides a narrowing of the chasm supposed to be impassable; and, secondly, that, even were the chasm not in course of being filled up, we should no more be justified in therefore assuming a supernatural commencement of life, than Kepler was justified in assuming that there were guiding-spirits to keep the planets in their orbits, because he could not see how else they were to be kept in their orbits.
The third definite objection made by Mr. Martineau is of kindred nature. The Hypothesis of Evolution is, he thinks, met by the insurmountable difficulty that plant life and animal life are absolutely distinct. "You cannot," he says, "take a single step toward the deduction of sensation and thought: neither at the upper limit do the highest plants (the exogens) transcend themselves and overbalance into animal existence; nor at the lower, grope as you may among the sea-weeds and sponges, can you persuade the sporules of the one to develop into the other."
This is an extremely unfortunate objection to raise. For, though there are no transitions from vegetal to animal life at the places Mr. Martineau names, where, indeed, no biologist would look for them; yet the connexion between the two great kingdoms of living things is so complete that separation is now regarded as impossible. For a long time naturalists endeavored to frame definitions such as would, the one include all plants and exclude all animals, and the other include all animals and exclude all plants. But they have been so repeatedly foiled in the attempt that they have given it up. There is no chemical distinction which holds; there is no structural distinction which holds; there is no functional distinction which holds; there is no distinction as to mode of existence which holds. Large groups of the simpler animals contain chlorophyll, and decompose carbonic acid under the influence of light, as plants do. Large groups of the simpler plants, as you may observe in the diatoms from any stagnant pool, are no less actively locomotive than the minute creatures classed as animals seen along with them. Nay, among these lowest types of living things, it is common for the life to be now predominantly animal and presently to become predominantly vegetal. The very name zoospores, given to germs of algæ, which for a while swim about actively by means of cilia, and presently settling down grow into plant-forms, is given because of this conspicuous community of nature. So complete is this community of nature that for some time past many naturalists have wished to establish for these lowest types a sub-kingdom, intermediate between the animal and the vegetal: the reason against this course being, however, that the difficulty crops up afresh at any assumed places where this intermediate sub-kingdom may be supposed to join the other two.
Thus the assumption on which Mr. Martineau proceeds is diametrically opposed to the conviction of naturalists in general.
Though I do not perceive that it is specifically stated, there appears to be tacitly implied a fourth difficulty of allied kind—the difficulty that there is no possibility of transition from life of the simplest kind to mind. Mr. Martineau says, indeed, that there can be "with only vital resources, as in the vegetable world, no beginning of mind:" apparently leaving it to be inferred that in the animal world the resources are such as to make the "beginning of mind" comprehensible. If, however, instead of leaving it a latent inference, he had distinctly asserted a chasm between mind and bodily life, for which there is certainly quite as much reason as for asserting a chasm between animal life and vegetal life, the difficulties in his way would have been no less insuperable.
For those lowest forms of irritability in the animal kingdom which, I suppose, Mr. Martineau refers to as the "beginning of mind," are not distinguishable from the irritability which plants display: they in no greater degree imply consciousness. If the sudden folding of a sensitive-plant's leaf when touched, or the spreading out of the stamens in a wild-cistus when gently brushed, is to be considered a vital action of a purely physical kind; then so too must be considered the equally slow contraction of a polype's tentacles. And yet, from this simple motion of an animal of low type, we may pass by insensible stages through ever-complicating forms of actions, with their accompanying signs of feeling and intelligence, until we reach the highest.
Even apart from the evidence derived from the ascending grades of animals up from zoophytes, as they are significantly named, it needs only to observe the evolution of a single animal to see that there does not exist any break or chasm between the life which shows no mind and the life which shows mind. The yelk of an egg which the cook has just broken, not only yields no sign of mind, but yields no sign of life. It does not respond to a stimulus as much even as many plants do. Had the egg, instead of being broken by the cook, been left under the hen for a certain time, the yelk would have passed by infinitesimal gradations through a series of forms ending in the chick; and by similarly infinitesimal gradations would have arisen those functions which end in the chick breaking its shell; and which, when it gets out, show themselves in running about, distinguishing and picking up food, and squeaking if hurt. When did the feeling begin? and how did there come into existence that power of perception which the chick's actions show? Should it be objected that the chick's actions are mainly automatic, I will not dwell on the fact that, though they are largely so, the chick manifestly has feeling and therefore consciousness; but I will accept the objection, and propose that instead we take the human being. The course of development before birth is just of the same general kind; and similarly, at a certain stage, begins to be accompanied by reflex movements. At birth there is displayed an amount of mind certainly not greater than that of the chick: there is no power of running from danger—no power of distinguishing and picking up food. If we say the chick is unintelligent, we must certainly say the infant is unintelligent. And yet from the unintelligence of the infant to the intelligence of the adult, there is an advance by steps so small that on no day is the amount of mind shown, appreciably different from that shown on preceding and succeeding days.
Thus the tacit assumption that there exists a break, is not simply gratuitous, but is negatived by the most obvious facts.
Certain of the words and phrases used in explaining that particular part of the Doctrine of Evolution which deals with the origin of species, are commented upon by Mr. Martineau as having implications justifying his view. Let us consider his comments.
He says that competition is not an "original power, which can of itself do anything;" further, that "it cannot act except in the presence of some possibility of a better or worse;" and that this "possibility of a better or worse" implies a "world pre-arranged for progress," "a directing Will intent upon the good." Had Mr. Martineau looked more closely into the matter, he would have found that, though the words and phrases he quotes are used for convenience, the conceptions they imply are not at all essential to the doctrine. Under its rigorously-scientific form, the doctrine is expressible in purely-physical terms, which neither imply competition nor imply better and worse.[37]
Beyond this indirect mistake there is a direct mistake. Mr. Martineau speaks of the "survivorship of the better," as though that were the statement of the law; and then adds that the alleged result cannot be inferred "except on the assumption that whatever is better is stronger too." But the words he here uses are his own words, not the words of those he opposes. The law is the survival of the fittest. Probably, in substituting "better" for "fittest," Mr. Martineau did not suppose that he was changing the meaning; though I dare say he perceived that the meaning of the word "fittest" did not suit his argument so well. Had he examined the facts, he would have found that the law is not the survival of the "better" or the "stronger," if we give to those words any thing like their ordinary meanings. It is the survival of those which are constitutionally fittest to thrive under the conditions in which they are placed; and very often that which, humanly speaking, is inferiority, causes the survival. Superiority, whether in size, strength, activity, or sagacity, is, other things equal, at the cost of diminished fertility; and where the life led by a species does not demand these higher attributes, the species profits by decrease of them, and accompanying increase of fertility. This is the reason why there occur so many cases of retrograde metamorphosis—this is the reason why parasites, internal and external, are so commonly degraded forms of higher types. Survival of the "better" does not cover these cases, though survival of the "fittest" does; and as I am responsible for the phrase, I suppose I am competent to say that the word "fittest" was chosen for this reason. When it is remembered that these cases outnumber all others—that there are more species of parasites than there are species of all other animals put together—it will be seen that the expression "survivorship of the better" is wholly inappropriate, and the argument Mr. Martineau bases upon it quite untenable. Indeed, if, in place of those adjustments of the human sense-organs, which he so eloquently describes as implying pre-arrangement, Mr. Martineau had described the countless elaborate appliances which enable parasites to torture animals immeasurably superior to them, and which, from his point of view, no less imply pre-arrangement, I think the notes of admiration which end his descriptions would not have seemed to him so appropriate.
One more word there is from the intrinsic meaning of which Mr. Martineau deduces what appears a powerful argument—the word Evolution itself. He says:—
"It means, to unfold from within; and it is taken from the history of the seed or embryo of living natures. And what is the seed but a casket of pre-arranged futurities, with its whole contents prospective, settled to be what they are by reference to ends still in the distance?"
Now, this criticism would have been very much to the point did the word Evolution truly express the process it names. If this process, as scientifically defined, really involved that conception which the word evolution was originally designed to convey, the implications would be those Mr. Martineau alleges. But, unfortunately for him, the word, having been in possession of the field before the process was understood, has been adopted merely because displacing it by another word seemed impracticable. And this adoption of it has been joined with a caution against misunderstandings arising from its unfitness. Here is a part of the caution:—"Evolution has other meanings, some of which are incongruous with, and some even directly opposed to, the meaning here given to it.... The antithetical word, Involution, would much more truly express the nature of the process; and would, indeed, describe better the secondary characters of the process which we shall have to deal with presently."[38] So that the meanings which the word involves, and which Mr. Martineau regards as fatal to the hypothesis, are already repudiated as not belonging to the hypothesis.
And now, having dealt with the essential objections raised by Mr. Martineau to the Hypothesis of Evolution as it is presented under that purely scientific form which generalizes the process of things, firstly as observed and secondly as inferred from certain ultimate principles, let me go on to examine that form of the Hypothesis which he propounds—Evolution as determined by Mind and Will—Evolution as pre-arranged by a Divine Actor. For Mr. Martineau apparently abandons the primitive theory of creation by "fiat of Almighty Will", and also the theory of creation by manufacture—by "a contriving and adapting power," and seems to believe in evolution: requiring only that "an originating Mind" shall be taken as its antecedent. Let us ask, first, in what relation Mr. Martineau conceives the "originating Mind" to stand to the evolving Universe. From some passages it is inferable that he considers the "presence of mind" to be everywhere needful. He says:—
"It is impossible to work the theory of Evolution upwards from the bottom. If all force is to be conceived as One, its type must be looked for in the highest and all-comprehending term; and Mind must be conceived as there, and as divesting itself of some speciality at each step of its descent to a lower stratum of law, till represented at the base under the guise of simple Dynamics."
This seems to be an unmistakable assertion that, wherever Evolution is going on, Mind is then and there behind it. At the close of the argument, however, a quite different conception is implied. Mr. Martineau says:—
"If the Divine Idea will not retire at the bidding of our speculative science, but retains its place, it is natural to ask, What is its relation to the series of so-called Forces in the world? But the question is too large and deep to be answered here. Let it suffice to say, that there need not be any overruling of these forces by the Will of God, so that the supernatural should disturb the natural; or any supplementing of them, so that He should fill up their deficiencies. Rather is His thought related to them as, in man, the mental force is related to all below it."
It would take too much space to deal fully with the various questions which this last passage raises. There is the question—Whence come these "Forces," spoken of as separate from the "Will of God"—did they pre-exist? Then what becomes of the Divine Power? Do they exist by the Divine Will? Then what kind of nature is that by which they act apart from the Divine Will? Again, there is the question—How do these deputy-forces co-operate in each particular phenomenon, if the presiding Will is not there present to control them? Either an organ which develops into fitness for its function, develops by the co-operation of these forces under the direction of Mind then present, or it so develops in the absence of Mind. If it develops in the absence of Mind, the hypothesis is given up; and if the "originating Mind" is required to be then and there present, we must suppose a particular providence to be present in each particular organ of each particular creature throughout the universe. Once more there is the question—If "His thought is related to them [these Forces] as, in Man, the mental force is related to all below it," how can "His thought" be regarded as the cause of Evolution? In man the mental force is related to the forces below it neither as a creator of them nor as a regulator of them, save in a very limited way: the greater part of the forces present in man, both structural and functional, defy the mental force absolutely. Nay, more, it needs but to injure a nerve to see that the power of the mental force over the physical forces is dependent on conditions which are themselves physical; and one who takes morphia in mistake for magnesia, discovers that the power of the physical forces over the mental is unconditioned by any thing mental.
Not dwelling on these questions, however, I will merely draw attention to the entire incongruity of this conception with the previous conception which I have quoted. Assuming that, when the choice is pressed on him, Mr. Martineau will choose the first, which alone has any thing like defensibility, let us go on to ask how far Evolution is made more comprehensible by postulating Mind, universally immanent, as its cause.
In metaphysical controversy, many of the propositions propounded and accepted as quite believable, are absolutely inconceivable. There is a perpetual confusing of actual ideas with what are nothing but pseud-ideas. No distinction is made between propositions that contain real thoughts, and propositions that are only the forms of thoughts. A thinkable proposition is one of which the two terms can be brought together in consciousness under the relation said to exist between them. But very often, when the subject of a proposition has been thought of as something known, and when the predicate has been thought of as something known, and when the relation alleged between them has been thought of as a known relation, it is supposed that the proposition itself has been thought. The thinking separately of the elements of a proposition is mistaken for the thinking of them in the combination which the proposition affirms. And hence it continually happens that propositions which cannot be rendered into thought at all, are supposed to be not only thought but believed. The proposition that Evolution is caused by Mind is one of this nature. The two terms are separately intelligible; but they can be regarded in the relation of effect and cause only so long as no attempt is made to put them together in this relation.
The only thing which any one knows as Mind is the series of his own states of consciousness; and if he thinks of any mind other than his own, he can think of it only in terms derived from his own. If I am asked to frame a notion of Mind divested of all those structural traits under which alone I am conscious of mind in myself, I cannot do it. I know nothing of thought save as carried on in ideas originally traceable to the effects wrought by objects and forces on me. A mental act is an unintelligible phrase if I am not to regard it as an act in which states of consciousness are severally known as like other states in the series that has gone by, and in which the relations between them are severally known as like past relations in the series. If, then, I have to conceive Evolution as caused by an "originating Mind," I must conceive this Mind as having attributes akin to those of the only mind I know, and without which I cannot conceive Mind at all.
I will not dwell on the many incongruities hence resulting, by asking how the "originating Mind" is to be thought of as having states produced by things objective to it; as discriminating among these states, and classing them as like and unlike; and as preferring one objective result to another. I will simply ask—What happens if we ascribe to the "originating Mind" the character absolutely essential to the conception of Mind, that it consists of a series of states of consciousness? Put a series of states of consciousness as cause, and the evolving Universe as effect, and then endeavor to see the last as flowing from the first. I find it possible to imagine in some dim way a series of states of consciousness serving as antecedent to any one of the movements I see going on; for my own states of consciousness are often indirectly the antecedents to such movements. But how if I attempt to think of such a series as antecedent to all actions throughout the Universe—to the motions of the multitudinous stars through space, to the revolutions of all their planets round them, to the gyrations of all these planets on their axes, to the infinitely-multiplied physical processes going on in each of these suns and planets? I cannot think of a single series of states of consciousness as causing even the relatively small group of actions going on over the Earth's surface. I cannot think of it even as antecedent to all the various winds and the dissolving clouds they bear, to the currents of all the rivers, and the grinding actions of all the glaciers; still less can I think of it as antecedent to the infinity of processes simultaneously going on in all the plants that cover the globe, from scattered polar lichens to crowded tropical palms, and in all the millions of quadrupeds that roam among them, and the millions of millions of insects that buzz about them. Even to a single small set of these multitudinous terrestrial changes, I cannot conceive as antecedent a single series of states of consciousness—cannot, for instance, think of it as causing the hundred thousand breakers that are at this instant curling over on the shores of England. How, then, is it possible for me to conceive an "originating Mind," which I must represent to myself as a single series of states of consciousness, working the infinitely-multiplied sets of changes simultaneously going on in worlds too numerous to count, dispersed throughout a space that baffles imagination?
If, to account for this infinitude of physical changes everywhere going on, "Mind must be conceived as there" "under the guise of simple Dynamics," then the reply is that, to be so conceived, Mind must be divested of all attributes by which it is distinguished; and that, when thus divested of its distinguishing attributes, the conception disappears—the word Mind stands for a blank. If Mr. Martineau takes refuge in the entirely different and, as it seems to me, incongruous hypothesis of something like a plurality of minds—if he accepts, as he seems to do, the doctrine that you cannot explain Evolution "unless among your primordial elements you scatter already the germs of Mind as well as the inferior elements"—if the insuperable difficulties I have just pointed out are to be met by assuming a local series of states of consciousness for each phenomenon, then we are obviously carried back to something like the alleged fetichistic notion, with the difference only, that the assumed spiritual agencies are indefinitely multiplied.
Clearly, therefore, the proposition that an "originating Mind" is the cause of Evolution, is a proposition that can be entertained so long only as no attempt is made to unite in thought its two terms in the alleged relation. That it should be accepted as a matter of faith, may be a defensible position, provided good cause is shown why it should be so accepted; but that it should be accepted as a matter of understanding—as a statement making the order of the universe comprehensible—is a quite indefensible position.
Here let me guard myself against a misinterpretation very likely to be put upon the foregoing arguments; especially by those who have read the Essay to which they reply. The statements of that Essay carry the implication that all who adhere to the hypothesis it combats, imagine they have solved the mystery of things when they have shown the processes of Evolution to be naturally caused. Mr. Martineau tacitly represents them as believing that, when every thing has been interpreted in terms of Matter and Motion, nothing remains to be explained. This, however, is by no means the fact. The Doctrine of Evolution, under its purely scientific form, does not involve Materialism, though its opponents persistently represent it as doing so. Indeed, among adherents of it who are friends of mine, there are those who speak of the Materialism of Buechner and his school, with a contempt certainly not less than that felt by Mr. Martineau. To show how anti-materialistic my own view is, I may, perhaps, without impropriety, quote some out of many passages which I have written on the question elsewhere:
"Hence though of the two it seems easier to translate so-called Matter into so-called Spirit, than to translate so-called Spirit into so-called Matter (which latter is, indeed, wholly impossible); yet no translation can carry us beyond our symbols."[39]
And again:
"See then our predicament. We can think of Matter only in terms of Mind. We can think of Mind only in terms of Matter. When we have pushed our explorations of the first to the uttermost limit, we are referred to the second for a final answer; and, when we have got the final answer of the second, we are referred back to the first for an interpretation of it. We find the value of x in terms of y; then we find the value of y in terms of x; and so on we may continue forever without coming nearer to a solution. The antithesis of subject and object, never to be transcended while consciousness lasts, renders impossible all knowledge of that Ultimate Reality in which subject and object are united."[40]
It is thus, I think, manifest that the difference between Mr. Martineau's view and the view he opposes is by no means so wide as he makes it appear; and further, it seems to me that such difference as exists is rather the reverse of that indicated by his exposition. Briefly expressed, the difference is that, where he thinks there is no mystery, the doctrine he combats recognizes a mystery. Speaking for myself only, I may say that, agreeing entirely with Mr. Martineau in repudiating the materialistic interpretation as utterly futile, I differ from him simply in this, that while he says he has found another interpretation, I confess that I cannot find any interpretation; while he holds that he can understand the Power which is manifested in things, I feel obliged to admit, after many failures, that I cannot understand it. So that, in presence of the transcendent problem which the universe presents, Mr. Martineau regards the human intellect as capable, and I as incapable. This contrast does not appear to me of the kind which his Essay tacitly asserts. If there is such a thing as the "pride of Science," it is obviously exceeded by the pride of Theology. I fail to perceive humility in the belief that the human mind is able to comprehend that which is behind appearances; and I do not see how piety is especially exemplified in the assertion that the Universe contains no mode of existence higher in Nature than that which is present to us in consciousness. On the contrary, I think it quite a defensible proposition that humility is better shown by a confession of incompetence to grasp in thought the Cause of all things; and that the religious sentiment may find its highest sphere in the belief that the Ultimate Power is no more representable in terms of human consciousness than human consciousness is representable in terms of a plant's functions.