SECTION II.

MATERIAL OR HYLOZOIC PANTHEISM.

In the system of Spinoza, the two "attributes of extension and thought" and the corresponding "modes" of body and soul, were equally recognized, and were employed jointly, in connection with his favorite doctrine of Unisubstancisme. They constituted the opposite poles of his theory, but were both essential to its completeness. But most of his followers, influenced by an excessive desire for simplification, have attempted to blend the two into one; and have either merged the spiritual in the corporeal, or virtually annihilated the material by resolving it into the mental. Hence two distinct, and even opposite forms of Pantheism,—the material or hylozoic, and the ideal or spiritual.

The former was the first in the order of historical development, so far as modern Europe is concerned. It was most in accordance with the Sensational Philosophy which prevailed in the school of Condillac,[127] and which continued to maintain its ascendancy until it was assailed by the reviving spirit of Idealism. It was the characteristic feature of the Atheism of the last century, and was fully exhibited in the "Systême de la Nature." The recent revival of Idealism has done much to check its progress, but it has not effected its destruction; on the contrary, the theory of Material or Hylozoic Pantheism is an error as inveterate as it is ancient, and it is continually reappearing even in the light of the intellectual and spiritual Psychology of the nineteenth century.

This theory, although it has been propounded as a religious creed, rests mainly on a philosophical dogma. It is based ultimately on the supposition that nothing exists in the universe except matter and its laws; that mind is the product of material organization; and that all the phenomena of thought, of feeling, of conscience, and even of religion, may be accounted for by ascribing them to certain powers inherent in matter, and evolved by certain peculiarities of cerebral structure. This fundamental assumption, on which the whole theory of Hylozoic Pantheism ultimately rests, will be subjected to examination in the sequel. We think that it may be best discussed separately and apart, for this among other reasons, that it stands equally related to the old mechanical Atheism and the new material Pantheism, and that, in point of fact, it has been applied indifferently to the support of both. Our remarks at present, therefore, will be directed, not to the refutation of Materialism, but to the exposition and exposure of the Pantheism which has been founded upon it.

It is not easy—perhaps it might be found, on trial, to be impossible—to show that there is any real difference, except in name, between mechanical Atheism and material Pantheism. Both equally affirm the self-existence and eternity of the Universe; both equally deny the fact of creation, and the doctrine of a living, personal God, distinct from nature, and superior to it. The only apparent difference between the two consists in this,—that the former speaks more of the rude materials, and the cold, hard, unbending laws, which exist in Nature; the latter speaks more of the vital powers, the subtle and ethereal forces, which are at work in her bosom, and which may seem to impart warmth and animation to a system that would otherwise be felt to be cold, inert, and deathlike. But the mechanical Atheist never denied the vital powers of Nature, he only attempted to account for them without an intelligent first Cause; and the material Pantheist has little, if any, advantage over him, except in this, that he has combined Chemistry with Mechanics in attempting to account for the phenomena of the universe, and has drawn his analogies from the laboratory and the crucible, the process of vegetation, and the laws of reproduction and growth, not less than from the formulæ of Physical Science.

The theory of Material Pantheism runs insensibly into one or other of the forms of naked Atheism to which we have already referred. Ignoring the existence of mind, or of any spiritual Power distinct from Nature and superior to it, it must necessarily hold the eternal existence of matter; and, in this respect, it coincides entirely with the Atheistic hypothesis. It may, or it may not, hold also the eternal existence of the present order of Nature, including all the varieties of vegetable and animal life. In the one case, it harmonizes with the ancient theory of Atheism, as maintained by Ocellus Lucanus; in the other, it must run into the modern theory of Development, if it makes any attempt to account for the origin of new races, as made known by the researches of Geologists. In either case, it is equivalent to Atheism, and dependent on one or other of the various theories which have been applied to the defence of the Atheist's creed.

It is worthy of remark, in this connection, how frequently those who are the most daring and decided advocates of Atheism or Pantheism do nevertheless ascribe to Nature many of the attributes which belong to God only. This fact is admirably illustrated by the distinguished founder of the Boyle Lectureship;[128] and it is abundantly confirmed by examples which have been furnished by more recent times. The author of the "System of Nature," which appeared before the first French Revolution, was an avowed and most reckless Atheist;[129] yet he ascribes to Nature most of the attributes which are usually supposed to belong to God, such as self-existence, eternity, immutability, infinitude, and unity; and if the intellectual and moral attributes may seem to be omitted, as they must be, to some extent, in any system of Atheism, yet thought, design, and will, are expressly ascribed to Nature.[130] And the only difference between the Theist and the Atheist is said to be, that the latter ascribes all the phenomena of Nature "to material, natural, sensible, and known causes," while the former ascribes them to "spiritual, supernatural, unintelligible, and unknown causes;" or, in other words, "to an occult cause."[131] It is manifestly a matter of indifference whether this method of accounting for the phenomena of Nature be called Atheism or Pantheism; in either aspect it is essentially the same.

The more recent advocates of Atheism or Pantheism have often made use of similar language. M. Crousse affirms that "all nature is animated by an internal force which moves it;" that this is the true spontaneity, the causality, which is the origin of all sensible manifestations, for "mens agitat molem et magno se corpore miscet;" that "matter, the most cold and indifferent, is full of life, capable of engendering thought, and containing mind in it, at least potentially;" and that, to every man who has true insight, "the world feels, moves, speaks, and thinks."[132] The author of "The Purpose of Existence" makes it his grand object to show that "the evolvement of mind out of matter" is the primary law and final cause of the universe; that "this process commences with vegetation, extracting from matter the spirit of vitality;" that "this spirit is preserved amid the decay of vegetables, and transfused into animals, thus establishing the great working-principle of Nature, that spirit is extracted from matter by organized bodies, and survives their dissolution."[133] Of course, if matter have the power of evolving intelligent and even immortal minds by its own inherent properties and established laws, it will not be difficult to find in Nature a sufficient substitute for God.

But the most revolting specimen of that material Pantheism, which is only another name for absolute Atheism, that has recently appeared, occurs in the Letters of Atkinson and Martineau: "We require no supernatural causes, when we can recognize adequate natural causes, inherent in the constitution of Nature;" "nor are more causes to be admitted than are sufficient to produce any particular change or effect."—"Man has his place in Natural History; his nature does not essentially differ from that of the lower animals; he is but a fuller development, and varied condition, of the same fundamental nature or cause,—of that which we contemplate as matter, and its changes, relations, and properties. Mind is the consequence or product of the material man, its existence depending on the action of the brain."—"Its highest object seems to be, a sense of the infinite and abstract power,—the inherent force and principle of Nature."[134]

From these specimens it must be evident that whatever nominal distinction may exist between Material Pantheism and avowed Atheism, they are radically identical, and that, for all practical purposes, they may be treated as one and the same. From the same specimens we may derive some useful hints respecting the essential conditions and the right conduct of the Theistic argument. It is not enough to show that there must be a self-existent, eternal, and infinite First Cause, for this is admitted by the advocate of Material Pantheism, who substitutes Nature for God. It is further necessary to show that the actual phenomena of the Universe cannot be accounted for by means of any properties or powers inherent in itself; and that they must be ascribed to a living, intelligent, and powerful Being, distinct from Nature and superior to it. The theory of Materialism must be discussed on its own proper and peculiar merits, and if we find good cause to reject it, the main pillar of Material Pantheism will fall to the ground. In the mean time we shall only further observe, that this form of Pantheism cannot be maintained without the help either of the doctrine of the Eternity of Matter or of the Theory of Development, or, rather, without the aid of both; and that, if it could be established, Polytheism would be its natural product, if not its inevitable result.

SECTION III.

IDEAL PANTHEISM.

We have already seen that the system of Spinoza equally recognized the two "attributes" of extension and thought, and the two corresponding "modes" of body and soul, in connection with the one infinite and eternal "Substance." We have also seen that most of his followers have taken a one-sided view of the subject, and have either merged the spiritual into the corporeal, so as to educe a Material or Hylozoic Pantheism, or have virtually annihilated the material by resolving it into the mental, so as to educe a system of Ideal or Spiritual Pantheism.

"In Spinoza," says Mr. Morell, "we see the model upon which the modern Idealists of Germany have renewed their search into the absolute ground of all phenomena;" and there can be no doubt that his speculations contain the germ of Ideal as well as of Material Pantheism. The historical filiation of modern Pantheism cannot be satisfactorily explained, in either of its two forms, without reference to his writings; and yet its precise character, as it is developed in more recent systems, demands for its full elucidation some knowledge of the course and progress of philosophical speculation in the interval which elapsed between the death of Spinoza and the subsequent developments of his theory.

We cannot here attempt to trace the history of German Idealism, from its source in the writings of Leibnitz, through the logical school of Wolfius and his successors, till it reached its culminating point in the philosophy of Hegel:—we shall content ourselves with a brief reference to the fundamental principles of Kant's system, which may be justly said to have contained the prolific germs, or, at least, to have determined the prevailing character, of all the subsequent speculations of the German schools. For if modern Pantheism be indebted to Spinoza for its substance, it is equally indebted to Kant for its form; and no intelligible account can be given of the phases which it has successively assumed, without reference to the powerful influence which his Philosophy, in one or other of its constituent elements, has exerted on all his successors in the same field of inquiry.

The Philosophy of Kant has a most important bearing on the whole question as to the validity of the natural evidence for the being and perfections of God. We shall confine our attention to those parts of his system which give rise to the speculations that have issued in the recent theories of Ideal or Spiritual Pantheism.

In attempting to explain the nature and origin of the whole system of human knowledge, Kant divides our intellectual being into three distinct faculties,—sensation, understanding, and reason. He supposes that from sensation we derive the whole matter of our knowledge; that from the understanding we derive its form, or the manner in which it is conceived of by us; and that from reason we derive certain general or abstract notions, which are highly useful, since they give a systematic unity to human thought, but which have no objective validity, that is, either no reality in nature that corresponds to them, or none, at least, that can be scientifically demonstrated. From this fundamental principle of his system it follows, that the only part of our knowledge which has any objective reality is that which is derived from our sense-perceptions, all else being purely formal or subjective, and arising solely from the laws of our own mental nature, which determine us to conceive of things in a particular way; and that even that part of our knowledge which is derived from sense-perception is purely phenomenal, since we know nothing of any object around us beyond the bare fact that it exists, and that it appears to us to be as our senses represent it. Hence the skeptical tendency of Kant's speculations, in so far as the scientific certainty of our knowledge is concerned. The practical utility of that knowledge is not disputed, but its objective reality, or the possibility of proving it, is, to a large extent, denied. Still he admits a primitive dualism, and a radical distinction between the subject and the object, between the mind which thinks and the matter of its thoughts. The matter comes from without, the form from within; and the senses are the channels through which the phenomena of nature are poured into the mould of the human mind. All knowledge implies this combination of matter with form, and is possible only on the supposition of the concurrent action both of the object and subject; not that either of the two is known to us in its essence, or that their real existence can be scientifically demonstrated, for we know the subject only in its relation to the object, and the object only in its relation to the subject; but that this relation necessarily requires the joint action of both, by which alone we can acquire the only knowledge of which we are capable, and which is supposed to be purely phenomenal, relative, and subjective. It is true that we are capable of forming certain grand ideas, such as that of God, the universe, and the soul; but these are the pure products of Reason, the mere personifications of our own modes of thinking, and have no objective reality, at least none that can be scientifically demonstrated. But, while "the Speculative Reason" is held to be incompetent to prove the existence of God, "the Practical Reason" is appealed to; and in the conscious liberty of the soul, and its sense of incumbent moral duty,—"the Categorical Imperative,"—Kant finds materials for reconstructing the basis and fabric of a true Theology, not scientifically perfect, but practically sufficient for all the purposes of life.

It was scarcely possible that Philosophy could find a permanent resting-place in such a theory as this; for, while it recognized both the "object" and the "subject" as equally indispensable, the one for the matter, the other for the form, of human knowledge, it did not hold the balance even between the two. It assigned so much to the "subject," and so little to the "object," and made so large a part of our knowledge merely formal and subjective, that it could neither be regarded as a self-consistent system of Skepticism, nor yet as a satisfactory basis for Scientific Belief. It was almost inevitable that speculative minds, starting from this point, should diverge into one or other of three courses; either following the line of the "subject" exclusively, and treating the "object" as a superfluous incumbrance, so as to reach, as Schulz and Maimon did, a pure Subjective Idealism, akin to utter Skepticism; or following the line of the "object," and giving it greater prominence than it had in the system of Kant, so as to lay the foundation, as Jacobi and Herbart did, of a system of Objective Certitude; or keeping both in view, and attempting, as Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel did, to blend the two into one, so as to reduce them to systematic unity.[135]

In Kant's system a dualism was admitted, a real distinction between the "subject" and "object" of thought; but he had ascribed so much to the subject, and so little to the object, that Fichte conceived the idea of dispensing with the latter altogether, and constructing his whole philosophy on a purely subjective basis. Since Kant had taught that all objects are conceived of either according to the forms of our sensational faculty, or the categories of our understanding, or the ideas of pure reason, it seemed to be unnecessary to suppose the existence of any object distinct from the mind itself. For if it be the mind which furnishes the form of Space, and gives us the idea of Substance, of Cause, of Being, the mind alone might suffice to account for the whole sum of human knowledge. Fichte was followed by Schelling, and Schelling by Hegel, each differing from his predecessor, but all concurring in the attempt to identify "Seyn," or absolute Being, with Thought, and to represent everything in the universe as a mere mode or manifestation of one Infinite Essence. The identity of Existence and Thought is the fundamental principle of Hegel's doctrine. With him, Being and the Idea of being, are the same; and Being and Thought are combined in the "Absolute," which is at once ideal and real (l'être and l'idée). With him, the idea of God is that of a logical process of thought, "ever unfolding itself, but never unfolded,"—a dialectic movement rather than a Divine Being, which realizes itself, and reaches a state of self-consciousness in man. God, nature, and man, are but one process of thought, considered in different aspects; all finite personalities are only so many thoughts of one eternal mind; God is in man, and man is in God, and the progress of humanity, in all its stages, is a Divine development.

This bare outline of these systems must suffice for our present purpose, and we now proceed to offer a few remarks on the doctrine of Ideal as distinguished from Material Pantheism.

1. The whole system of "Idealism," as propounded in the German schools, is utterly baseless, and contradicts the intuitive, the universal convictions of the human mind. For what is Idealism? Reduced to its utmost simplicity, and expressed in the briefest formula, it amounts, in substance, to this: that the whole universe is to us a mere process of thought, and that nothing exists, or, at least, can be known by us, beyond the ideas of our own minds. And what is the ground on which it rests? It rests entirely on the assumption, that, since we can know nothing otherwise than through the exercise of our mental faculties, these faculties must be the sole sources of all our knowledge, and altogether independent of any external object. According to this theory, the mind is not informed or instructed by the universe, but the universe is created by the mind; the objective is developed from the subjective; and there is no reality anywhere except in the region of consciousness. Nature is seen only as it is imaged in the mirror within; and to us it is a mere phantasmagoria, a series of phenomena, a succession of thoughts. "The sum total," says Fichte, "is this; there is absolutely nothing permanent, either without me or within me, but only an unceasing change. I know absolutely nothing of any existence, not even of my own. I myself know nothing, and am nothing. Images there are; they constitute all that apparently exists; and what they know of themselves is after the manner of images; images that pass and vanish without there being aught to witness their transition; that consist, in fact, of the images of images, without significance and without an aim. I myself am one of these images; nay, I am not even thus much, but only a confused image of images. All reality is converted into a marvellous dream, without a life to dream of, and without a mind to dream,—into a dream made up only of a dream itself. Perception is a dream; thought—the source of all existence, and all the reality which I imagine to myself of my existence, of my power, of my destination—is the dream of that dream."[136]

The tendency of such speculations as these towards universal Skepticism, or even absolute Nihilism, with the exception only of certain fleeting phenomena of Consciousness, is too apparent to require any formal proof; and it must be equally evident that they contradict some of the most universal and deeply-rooted convictions of the human mind. The ultimate ground of every system of Idealism which excludes the knowledge of an external world must be one or other of these two assumptions, or a combination of both: either, that our knowledge cannot extend beyond the range of consciousness, which takes cognizance only of ideas, or of subjective mental states; or that any attempt to extend it beyond these limits, so as to embrace external objects as really existing, can only be successful on this condition,—that we prove, by reasoning from the subjective to the objective, that there is a necessary logical connection between the state of the one and the reality of the other. Each of these assumptions is equally groundless. It is true that consciousness, strictly so called, takes cognizance only of what passes within; it is not true that consciousness, in this restricted sense, is commensurate with our entire knowledge. It is true that we acquire our knowledge only through the exercise of our mental faculties; it is not true that our mental faculties are the only sources of our knowledge, nor even that, without the concurrence of certain objects, they could give us any knowledge at all. It is true that there must be a connection between the subjective and the objective; it is not true that this connection must be established by reasoning, or that we must prove the existence of an external world distinct from the thinking mind, before we are entitled to believe in it. For a great part of our knowledge is presentative, and we directly perceive the objects of Nature not less than the phenomena of Consciousness.

When it is said, in the jargon of the modern German philosophy, that "the Ego has no immediate consciousness of the Non-Ego as existing, but that the Non-Ego is only represented to us in a modification of the self-conscious Ego, and is, in fact, only a phenomenon of the Ego,"—a plain, practical Englishman, little tolerant of these subtle distinctions, might be ready, if not deterred by the mere sound of the words, to test them by a particular example. What am I to think, he might say, of my own father and mother? They are familiarly known to me. I have seen them, and talked with, them, and loved them as my own soul. I have hitherto believed that they existed, and that they were really a father and mother to me. But now I am taught that they are—mere modifications of my own mind; that they are nothing more than simple phenomena of the self-conscious Ego; and that, so far from being the earthly authors of my existence, they are themselves—the creation and offspring of my own thought. And on what ground am I asked to receive this astonishing discovery? Why, simply because I can be sure of nothing but the facts of consciousness. But how are these facts proved? They "need no proof; they are self-evident; they are immediately and irresistibly believed." Be it so. I can just as little doubt of the existence of my body, of the distinct personality of my parents, and the reality of an external universe, as of any fact of consciousness. May it not be, whether we can explain it or not, that the one set of facts is as directly presented, and needs as little to be proved, as the other?

2. The doctrine of "Identity" constitutes a prominent and indispensable part of the theory of Idealism, and is the ground-principle of Philosophical Pantheism. It amounts, in substance, to the proposition, that Existence and Thought are one, that the "subject" and "object" of knowledge are one. "If the doctrine of Identity means anything, it means that Thought and Being are essentially one; that the process of thinking is virtually the same as the process of creating; that in constructing the universe by logical deduction, we do virtually the same thing as Deity accomplishes in developing himself in all the forms and regions of creation; that every man's reason, therefore, is really God; in fine, that Deity is the whole sum of consciousness immanent in the world."[137] It is through the medium of this doctrine of Identity that Idealism passes into Pantheism,—not, indeed, the Idealism of Berkeley, which recognized, consistently or otherwise, the existence of the human mind and of the Divine Spirit, while it denied the independent existence of matter,—but the Idealism of Fichte and others, which resolved mind into a mere process of thought, a continuous stream or succession of ideas. To such a theory the doctrine of Identity was indispensable. Its advocates were bound to show that nothing existed, or could be proved to exist, in the universe but thought, and that, in every case, the subject and object of thought might be identified as one. We find, accordingly, that from the earliest ages down to the present time, the idea of "absolute unity," or "universal identity," has been frequently exhibited in connection with the speculations of philosophical Idealists. The disciples of the Eleatic school in ancient Greece, not less than those of the modern schools of Germany, insisted on the identity of thought and its object, and regarded everything that might seem to be external to the mind as a mere illusion.

It may be difficult for the British mind, familiarized from infancy with the philosophy of common sense, to grasp the idea which this doctrine involves; but, on the principles of absolute Idealism, it may be easily explained, and may even seem to have some foundation in facts that must be acknowledged by all. There are two cases, particularly, which may serve to illustrate, if they cannot suffice to prove, it. The first is that of the Supreme Intelligence, conceived as existing before the production of a created universe, when He was himself the sole "subject" and the sole "object" of thought; in other words, the absolute "Subject-Object." The second is that of the human consciousness, conceived as occupied solely with certain subjective mental states, when the mind may be said to be at once the "subject" and the "object" of its own thought. There are cases, then, in which mind may be regarded as a "subject-object;" the case of human consciousness, when the mind takes cognizance of its own states or acts, and the case of the Divine consciousness, while as yet the created universe had not been called into being. But the question is, whether, in all cases, the "subject" and "object" of thought are the same? or, whether existence and thought are universally identical? An affirmative answer to this question would imply, that nothing whatever exists except only in the mind that perceives it; that, according to Bishop Berkeley, "the existence of unthinking things without any relation to their being perceived" is an absurd or impossible supposition; that "their esse is percipi," that is, that their being consists in their being perceived or known; whence it would follow, as Berkeley himself admits, that we have no reason to believe in the continued existence of the desk at which we write, after we have left the room in which we see it, excepting such as may arise from the supposition, that if we returned to that room we might still see it, or that in our absence it may still be perceived by some other mind. Existence is identified with thought, and nothing exists save only as it is thought of. Why? Simply because it can become known to us only through the medium of consciousness, and that, too, in no other character than as a phenomenon of our own minds.

That this doctrine is at direct variance with the universal convictions of mankind, is too evident to require the slightest proof. That it is unphilosophical, as well as unpopular, may be made apparent by two very simple considerations. The first is, that it assumes without proof the only point in question, namely, that the objects of our knowledge are nothing but the ideas of our own minds; whereas it is affirmed, on the other side, and surely with at least an equal amount of apparent reason, that we are so constituted as to have a direct perception of external objects as well as of internal mental states. The second is, that the very formula of Idealism, which represents the "Non-ego" as a mere modification of the conscious "Ego," seems to involve a palpable contradiction; since it recognizes, in a certain sense, the difference between the "Ego and the Non-ego," and yet, in the same breath, annihilates that difference, and proclaims their "identity."[138] Fichte admits, indeed, that we have the idea of something which is not-self; but instead of ascribing it to an external object, he accounts for it by a law of our mental nature, which constrains us to create a limit, so as to give a determinate character to our thought. The three technical formulas, therefore, which are said[139] to express, respectively,—the affirmation of self,—the affirmation of not-self,—and the determination of the one by the other,—are all equally the products of our own mental laws, and do not necessarily require the supposition of any external object; and hence it follows that Self is the one only absolute principle, and that everything else that is conceived of is constructed out of purely subjective materials. The question whether the "object" be the generative principle of the "idea," or vice versâ, is thus superseded; for there is no longer any distinction between "object" and "subject;" existence is identified with thought; the Ego and the Non-ego unite in one absolute existence; and Self becomes the sole Subject-object, the percipient and the perceived, the knowing and the known.

Of course, on this theory, there is no knowledge of God, just as there can be no knowledge of Nature, and no knowledge of our fellow-men, as distinct objective realities; it is a system of pure Idealism, which, if consistently followed out, must terminate in utter skepticism in regard to many of the most familiar objects of human knowledge; or, rather, in the hands of a thoroughly consequent reasoner, it must issue, as Jacobi endeavored to show, in absolute Nihilism; since we can have no better reason for believing in the existence of Self than we have for believing in the reality of an external world, and the coexistence of our fellow-men. Each of these beliefs is equally the spontaneous product of certain mental laws, which are just as trustworthy, and need as little to be proved, in the one case as in the other.

Fichte seems to have become aware of this fundamental defect of his system; and, at a later period, he attempted to give it a firmer basis by representing self, not as individual, but as Divine, that is, as the Absolute manifesting itself in Man. He now admitted what, if he had not denied, he had overlooked before, an essential reality as the substratum both of the Ego and Non-ego; a reality of which all things, whether within or without, are only so many "modes" or manifestations. And it is at this point that his subjective Idealism passes into Pantheism, and that we mark the close affinity between his speculations and those of Spinoza. There is, in some respects, a wide difference between the two; Spinoza assumed, Fichte denied, the existence of matter; the former affirmed Substance to be the absolute and infinite Essence; the latter proclaimed a spiritual universe, whose essence was the infinite reason, or the Divine idea: but still, with these and other points of difference, there existed a real, radical affinity between the two systems, that of Fichte, not less than that of Spinoza, being based on the identity of existence and thought; and both systems being directed to show that there is but one Absolute Being, of which all phenomena, whether material or mental, are only so many modes or manifestations.

3. The philosophy of "the absolute," as applied in support of German Pantheism, depends on the doctrine of "Identity," and must stand or fall along with it.[140] The "absolute" is described as being at once ideal and real, pure being and pure thought, and as developing itself in a great variety of forms. The philosophy of the "absolute" is represented as the only science, properly so called: it is assumed that there can be no science of the finite, the variable, the contingent, the relative, but only of the absolute, the unchangeable, and the infinite. To constitute this science, the doctrine of "identity" is indispensable; the subject and the object of thought, knowledge and being, must be reduced to scientific unity. Realism and Idealism are thus blended together, or rather identified in the philosophy of the "absolute." The idea of the "absolute," in which being and thought are identical, is the only foundation of science, and the ultimate ground of all certitude. And Pantheism is inferred from this idea; for the "absolute," in which being and thought are identified, is properly the sole existence, which develops and manifests itself in a great variety of finite forms.

We are not disposed to treat the philosophy of the "absolute" either with levity or with scorn. We feel that it brings us into contact with some of the most profound and most deeply mysterious problems of human thought. Finite as we are, we are so constituted that we cannot avoid framing the idea, although we can never attain to a comprehension, of the Infinite. There are absolute truths, and necessary truths, among the elements of human knowledge. Account for them as we may, their reality cannot be reasonably denied, nor their importance disparaged. There is a tendency—and a most useful one—in the human mind, to seek unity in all things, to trace effects to causes, to reduce phenomena to laws, to resolve the complex into the simple, and to rise from the contingent to the absolute, from the finite to the infinite. There are few more interesting inquiries in the department of Psychology than that which seeks to investigate the nature, the origin, and the validity of those ideas which introduce us into the region of absolute, eternal, and immutable Truth; and it were a lamentable result of the erratic speculations of Germany did they serve to cast discredit on this inquiry, or even to excite a prejudice against it, in the more sober, but not less profound, minds of our own countrymen. But there need be little apprehension on this score, if it be clearly understood and carefully remembered, that the philosophy of the absolute, as taught in Germany and applied in support of Pantheism, rests ultimately on the theory of Idealism and the doctrine of Identity, by which all is resolved into one absolute "subject-object," and existence is identified with thought. This system may be discarded, and yet there may still remain a sound, wholesome, and innocuous philosophy of the "absolute;" a philosophy which does not seek to identify things so generically different as existence and thought, or to reduce mind and matter, the finite and the infinite, to the same category; but which, recognizing the differences subsisting between the various objects of thought, seeks merely to investigate the nature and sources of that part of human knowledge which relates to absolute or necessary truths. The former of these rival systems may be favorable to Pantheism, the latter will be found to be in entire accordance with Christian Theism.

The fundamental principle of philosophical Pantheism is either the unity of substance, as taught by Spinoza, or the identity of existence and thought, as taught, with some important variations, by Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel. The Absolute is conceived of, not as a living Being to whom a proper personality and certain intelligible attributes may be ascribed, but as a vague, indeterminate somewhat, which has no distinctive character, and of which, in the first instance, or prior to its development, almost nothing can be either affirmed or denied. But this absolute existence, by some unknown, inherent necessity, develops, determines, and limits itself: it becomes being, and constitutes all being: the infinite passes into the finite, the absolute into the relative, the necessary into the contingent, the one into the many; all other existences are only so many modes or forms of its manifestation. Here is a theory which, to say the very least, is neither more intelligible, nor less mysterious, than any article of the Christian faith. And what are the proofs to which it appeals, what the principles on which it rests? Its two fundamental positions are these; that finite things have no distinct existence as realities in nature, and that there exists only one Absolute Being, manifesting itself in a variety of forms. And how are they demonstrated? Simply by the affirmation of universal "Identity." But what if this affirmation be denied? What if, founding on the clearest data of consciousness, we refuse to acknowledge that existence is identical with thought?[141] What if we continue to believe that there are objects of thought which are distinct from thought itself, and which must be presented to the mind before they can be represented by the mind? What if, while we recognize the idea both of the finite and the infinite, the relative and the absolute, the contingent and the necessary, we cannot, by the utmost effort of our reason, obliterate the difference between them, so as to reduce them to one absolute essence? Then the whole superstructure of Pantheism falls along with the Idealism on which it depends; and it is found to be, not a solid and enduring system of truth, but a frail edifice, ingeniously constructed out of the mere abstractions of the human mind.

The advocates of this system assume that the relations which subsist between beings are the same as the relations which subsist between our ideas, and infer that logic is sufficient to construct a system of metaphysic. But Professor Nicolas has well said, that "while it is certain we cannot know things but by the notions which we have of them, and a certain parallelism may thus be established between what exists and what we think of that which exists, yet from this to the identity of being and thought, such as Pantheism requires, there is a vast distance, and we have no ground for believing that the logical relations of our ideas are identical with the real relations of beings. Speculative Pantheism is wholly built on this assumption. It describes the relations of being according to the logical relations of our thought; and it takes logic for a kind of metaphysic. It confounds the laws of thought with the laws of being. It seeks to solve the question, What is the first Being, and what are its relations to other beings? That Being must necessarily be the condition of all other beings, and must virtually contain them all; nay, it must be capable of becoming all things. It must therefore be simple, indeterminate, indifferent, possessing no essential character, resembling nothing that we actually know. All this is true of our ideas, but not of beings. The highest idea,—that which is the logical condition of all others, and also the most general, the most abstract, the most indeterminate,—this idea contains all others, and by receiving this or that determination, it becomes this or that particular idea. But what is true of the idea is not true of the being; no such vague, indeterminate, indifferent being exists; and yet Pantheism confounds the idea with the being, and rests entirely on that confusion of thought."


In bringing our review of Modern Pantheism to a close, we may offer a few remarks illustrative of its nature and tendency, whether considered as a system of speculative thought, or as a substitute for religious belief.

In this view, it is important to observe, first of all, that the theory of "Idealism," and the doctrine of "Identity," which constitute the groundwork of the more spiritual form of Pantheism, are not more adverse to our belief in the existence and personality of God, than they are to our belief in the reality of an external world, or in the existence and personality of man himself. They stand equally related to each of these three topics; and, if they be accepted at all, they must be impartially applied, and consistently carried out into all their legitimate consequences, as the only philosophical solution of the whole question of Ontology. Perhaps this is not understood; certainly it has not been duly considered by the more superficial litterateurs, who have been slightly tinctured with Pantheism; but it will be acknowledged at once by every consistent Idealist, who understands his own philosophy, and who is honest or bold enough to carry it out into all its practical applications. He knows very well, and, if sufficiently candid, he will frankly confess, that the principles on which he founds, if they be conclusive against the existence of a living, personal God, are equally conclusive against the reality of an external world, and against the doctrine of our own personality or that of our fellow-men. With most minds, this consideration would be of itself a powerful counteractive to all that is most dangerous in the theory of Idealism, were it only clearly apprehended and steadily kept in view; for an argument which proves too much is justly held to prove nothing, and that theory which leaves us no right to believe in the existence of Nature, or in the distinct personality of our fellow-men, can scarcely be held sufficient to disprove the existence of God.

It may be observed, further, that Ideal Pantheism has a strong tendency to engender a spirit either of Mysticism, on the one hand, or of Skepticism on the other. It terminates in Mysticism when, seeking to avoid Skepticism, it takes refuge in the doctrine of an "intellectual intuition," such as gives an immediate knowledge of the Absolute: and it terminates in Skepticism when, seeking to avoid Mysticism, it rejects the doctrine of "intellectual intuition," and discovers that it has no other and no higher claims to our confidence than such as are equally possessed by any one of our common faculties, whose testimony the Idealist has been taught to distrust and doubt.

It is further worthy of remark, that the philosophy of the Absolute, as taught in the German schools, has been applied to the whole circle of the Sciences, not less than to Theology, and that it has given birth to numerous speculative systems, in Physics, in Chemistry, in Ethics, in History, and in Politics, all strongly marked by the same characteristic feature—the substitution of à priori and deductive speculation for the more sober and legitimate method of Inductive inquiry. The province of Natural Science, in which, if anywhere, we should be guided by the light of experience and observation, has been rudely invaded by this transcendental philosophy, which offers to construct a theory of universal knowledge on the basis of a certain self-development of the Absolute. We are indebted to Mr. Morell for a specimen,[142] alike amusing and instructive, of Schelling's speculations on this subject. We shall not attempt to interpret its meaning, for, in sooth, we do not pretend to understand it: but one thing is clear, the laws of Matter, of Dynamics, of Organic structure and life, the laws of Knowledge, of Action, and of Art, are all exhibited as mere deductions or corollaries from the "idea of the Absolute;" and in the name of Natural Science, not less than on behalf of Theology, we protest against this vicious method of Philosophy, and do most earnestly deprecate the substitution of Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel, in the place of our own Bacon, and Boyle, and Newton, as models of scientific thought.

The practical influence of Pantheism, in so far as its peculiar tendencies are not restrained or counteracted by more salutary beliefs, must be deeply injurious, both to the individual and social welfare of mankind. In its Ideal or Spiritual form it may be seductive to some ardent, imaginative minds; but it is a wretched creed notwithstanding; and it will be found, when calmly examined, to be fraught with the most serious evils. It has been commended, indeed, in glowing terms, as a creed alike beautiful and beneficent,—as a source of religious life nobler and purer than any that can ever spring from the more gloomy system of Theism: for, on the theory of Pantheism, God is manifest to all, everywhere, and at all times; Nature, too, is aggrandized and glorified, and everything in Nature is invested with a new dignity and interest; above all, Man is conclusively freed from all fantastic hopes and superstitious fears, so that his mind can now repose, with tranquil satisfaction, on the bosom of the Absolute, unmoved by the vicissitudes of life, and unscared even by the prospect of death. For what is death? The dissolution of any living organism is but one stage in the process of its further development; and whether it passes into a new form of self-conscious life, or is reabsorbed into the infinite, it still forms an indestructible element in the vast sum of Being. We may, therefore, or, rather, we must, leave our future state to be determined by Nature's inexorable laws, and we need, at least, fear no Being higher than Nature, to whose justice we are amenable, or whose frown we should dread.[143] But, even as it is thus exhibited by some of its warmest partisans, it appears to us, we own, to be a dreary and cheerless creed, when compared with that faith which teaches us to regard God as our "Father in heaven," and that "hope which is full of immortality." It is worse, however, than dreary; it is destructive of all religion and of all morality. If it be an avowed antagonist to Christianity, it is not less hostile to Natural Theology and to Ethical Science. It consecrates error and vice, as being, equally with truth and virtue, necessary and beneficial manifestations of the "infinite." It is a system of Syncretism, founded on the idea that error is only an incomplete truth, and maintaining that truth must necessarily be developed by error, and virtue by vice. According to this fundamental law of "human progress," Atheism itself may be providential; and the axiom of a Fatalistic Optimism—"Whatever is, is best"—must be admitted equally in regard to truth and error, to virtue and vice.

It may be further observed, that modern Pantheism, whether in its Material or Ideal form, is nothing else than the revival of some of the earliest and most inveterate Principles of Paganism,—the same Paganism which still flourishes among the "theosophic" dreamers of India, and which exhibits its practical fruits in the horrors of Hindoo superstition. For Pantheism, although repeatedly revived and exhibited in new forms, has made no real progress since the time when it was first taught in the Vedanta system, and sublimed in the schools of Alexandria. Christianity, which encountered and triumphed over it in her youth, can have nothing to fear from it in her mature age,[144] provided only that she be faithful to herself, and spurn every offered compromise. But there must be no truce, and no attempt at conciliation between the two. The Pantheists of Germany have made the most impudent claims to the virtual sanction of Christianity; they have even dared to make use of Bible terms in a new sense, and have spoken of Revelation, Inspiration, Incarnation, Redemption, Atonement, and Regeneration, in such a way as to adapt them to the Pantheistic hypothesis. Common honesty is outraged, and the conscience of universal humanity offended, by the conduct of individuals—some of them wearing the robes of the holy ministry—who have substituted the dreams of Pantheism for the doctrines of Jesus Christ, and assailed, both from the pulpit and the press, the sacred cause which they had solemnly vowed to maintain. But even in Germany itself a powerful reaction has commenced; and the learning and labors of such men as Olshausen, and Tholuck, and Hengstenberg, may be hailed as the dawn of a better and brighter day.

It may be observed, finally, that Pantheism stands directly opposed to Christian Theism in several distinct respects. The following are the principal points of collision between the two:

1. Pantheism denies,—Christian Theism affirms, the existence of a living, personal God, distinct from Nature, and superior to it.

2. Pantheism supersedes,—Christian Theism reveals, the doctrine of a real creation.

3. Pantheism contests,—Christian Theism confirms, the doctrine of the constant providence and moral government of God.

4. Pantheism disowns,—Christian Theism declares, the doctrine of a conscious, personal immortality.

5. Pantheism rejects,—Christian Theism receives, the whole scheme of Revelation, considered as a supernatural code of Divine truth. The one accounts for its origin on the principle of natural development, the other on that of supernatural interposition.

6. Pantheism has no living, self-conscious, personal God, no loving Father, no watchful Providence, no Hearer of Prayer, no Object of confiding trust, no Redeemer, no Sanctifier, no Comforter: it leaves us with nothing higher than Nature as our portion here, and nothing beyond its eternal vicissitudes as our prospect hereafter.