"ULTIMATE SCIENTIFIC IDEAS."
On a former page we have already attempted a positive answer to the question, "What are Space and Time," with which Mr. Spencer opens this chapter. It was there found that, in general terms, they are a priori conditions of created being; and, moreover, that they possess characteristics suitable to what they condition, just as the a priori conditions of the spiritual person possess characteristics suitable to what they condition. It was further found that this general law is, from the necessity of the case, realized both within the mind and without it; that it is, must be, the form of thought for the perceiving subject, corresponding to the condition of existence for the perceived object. It also appeared that the Universe as object, and the Sense and Understanding as faculties in the subject, thus corresponded; and further, that these faculties could never transcend and comprehend Space and Time, because these were the very conditions of their being; moreover, that by them all spaces and times must be considered with reference to the Universe, and apart from it could not be examined by them at all. Yet it was further found that the Universe might in the presence of the Reason be abstracted; and that, then, pure Space and Time still remained as pure a priori conditions, the one as room, the other as opportunity, for the coming of created being. Space and Time being such conditions, and nothing more, are entities only in the same sense that the multiplication table and the moral law are entities. They are conditions suited to what they condition. In the light of this result let us examine Mr. Spencer's teachings respecting them.
Strictly speaking, Space and Time do not "exist." If they exist (ex sto), they must stand out somewhere and when. This of course involves the being of a where and a when in which they can stand out; and that where and when must needs be accounted for, and so on ad infinitum. Again, Mr. Spencer would seem to speak, in his usual style, as if they, in existing "objectively," had a formal objective existence. Yet this, in the very statement of it, appears absurd. The mind apprehends many objects, which do not "exist." They only are. Thus, as has just been said, Space and Time, as conditions of created being, are. They are entities but not existences. They are a priori entities, and so are necessarily. By this they stand in the same category with all pure laws, all first principles.
"Moreover, to deny that Space and Time are things, and so by implication to call them nothings, involves the absurdity that there are two kinds of nothings." This sentence "involves the absurdity" of assuming that "nothing" is an entity. If I say that Space is nothing, I say that it presents no content for a concept, and cannot, because there is no content to be presented. It is then blank. Just so of Time. As nothings they are, then, both equally blank, and destitute of meaning. Now if Mr. Spencer wishes to hold that nothing represented by one word, differs from nothing represented by another, we would not lay a straw in his way, but yet would be much surprised if he led a large company.
Again, having decided that they are neither "nonentities nor the attributes of entities, we have no choice but to consider them as entities." But he then goes on to speak of them as "things," evidently using the word in the same sense as if applying it to a material object, as an apple or stone; thereby implying that entity and thing in that sense are synonymous terms. Upon this leap in the dark, this blunder in the use of language, he proceeds to build up a mountain of difficulties. But once take away this foundation, once cease attempting "to represent them in thought as things," and his difficulties vanish. Space is a condition. Perhaps receptivity, indivisibility, and illimitability are attributes. If so, it has attributes, for these certainly belong to it. But whether these shall be called attributes or not, it is certain that Space is, is a pure condition, is thus a positive object to the Reason, is qualified by the characteristics named above; and all this without any contradiction or other insuperable difficulty arising thereby. On the ground now established, we learn that extension and Space are not "convertible terms." Extension is an attribute of matter. Space is a condition of phenomena. It is only all physical "entities which we actually know as such" that "are limited." From our standpoint, that Space is no thing, such remarks as "We find ourselves totally unable to form any mental image of unbounded Space," appear painfully absurd. "We find ourselves" just as "totally unable to form any mental image of unbounded" love. Such phrases as "mental image" have no relevancy to either Space or Time. In criticizing Kant's doctrine, which we have found true as far as it goes, Mr. Spencer evinces a surprising lack of knowledge of the facts in question. "In the first place," he says, "to assert that Space and Time, as we are conscious of them, are subjective conditions, is by implication to assert that they are not objective realities." But the conclusion does not follow. If the reader will take the trouble to construct the syllogism on which this is based, he will at once perceive the absurdity of the logic. It may be said in general that all conditions of a thinking being are both subjective and objective: they are conditions of his being—subjective; and they are objects of his examination and cognizance—objective. Is not the multiplication table an objective reality, i. e., would it not remain if he be destroyed? And yet is it not also a subjective law; and so was it not originally discovered by introspection and reflection? Again he says, "for that consciousness of Space and Time which we cannot rid ourselves of, is the consciousness of them as existing objectively." Now the fact is, that primarily we do not have any consciousness of Space and Time. Consciousness has to do with phenomena. When examining the material Universe, the objects, and the objects as at a distance from each other and as during, are what we are conscious of. For instance, I view the planets Jupiter and Saturn. They appear as objects in my consciousness. There is a distance between them; but this distance is not, except as they are. If they are not, the word distance has no meaning with reference to them. Take them away, and I have no consciousness of distance as remaining. These planets continue in existence. They endure. This endurance we call time, but if they should cease, one could not think of endurance in connection with them as remaining. Here we most freely and willingly agree with Mr. Spencer that "the question is, What does consciousness directly testify?" but he will find that consciousness on this side of the water testifies very differently from his consciousness: as for instance in the two articles in the "North American Review," heretofore alluded to. Here, "the direct testimony of consciousness is," that spaces and times within the Universe are without the mind; that Space and Time, as a priori conditions for the possibility of formal object and during event, are also without the mind; but the "testimony" is none the less clear and "direct" that Space and Time are laws of thought in the mind corresponding to the actualities without the mind. And the question may be asked, it is believed with great force, If this last were not so, how could the mind take any cognizance of the actuality? Again, most truly, Space and Time "cannot be conceived to become non-existent even were the mind to become non-existent." Much more strongly than this should the truth be uttered. They could not become non-existent if the Universe with every sentient being, yea, even—to make an impossible supposition—if the Deity himself, should cease to be. In this they differ no whit from the laws of Mathematics, of Logic, and of Morals. These too would remain as well. Thus is again enforced the truth, which has been stated heretofore, that Space and Time, as a priori conditions of the Universe, stand in precisely the same relation to material object and during event that the multiplication table does to intellect, or the moral law to a spiritual person. It will now be doubtless plain that Mr. Spencer's remarks sprang directly from the lower faculties. The Sense in its very organization possesses Space and Time as void forms into which objects may come. So also the Understanding possesses the notional as connecting into a totality. These faculties cannot be in a living man without acting. Activity is their law. Hence images are ever arising and must arise in the Sense, and be connected in the Understanding, and all this in the forms and conditions of Space and Time. He who thinks continually in these conditions will always imagine that Space and Time are only without him—because he will be thinking only in the iron prison-house of the imagining faculty—and so cannot transcend the conditions it imposes. Now how shall one see these conditions? They do "exist objectively"; or, to phrase it better, they have a true being independent of our minds. In this sense, as we have seen, every a priori condition must be objective to the mind. What is objective to the Sense is not Space but a space, i. e. a part of Space limited by matter; and, after all, it is the boundaries which are the true object rather than the space, which cannot be "conceived" of if the boundaries be removed. Without further argument, is it not evident that there Space, like all other a priori conditions, is object only to the Reason, and that as a condition of material existence?
At the bottom of page 49 we have another of Mr. Spencer's psychological errors:—"For if Space and Time are forms of thought, they can never be thought of; since it is impossible for anything to be at once the form of thought and the matter of thought." Although this topic has been amply discussed elsewhere, it may not be uninstructive to recur to it again. Exactly the opposite of Mr. Spencer's remark is the truth. The question at issue here is one of those profound and subtile ones which cannot be approached by argument, but can be decided only by a seeing. It is a psychological question pertaining to the profoundest depths of our being. If one says, "I see the forms of thought," and another, "I cannot see them," neither impeaches the other. All that is left is to stimulate the dull faculty of the one until he can see. The following reflections may help us to see. Mr. Spencer's remark implies that we have no higher faculty than the Sense and the Understanding. It implies, also, that we can never have any self-knowledge, in the fundamental signification of that phrase. We can observe the conduct of the mind, and study and classify the results; but the laws, the constitution of the activity itself must forever remain closed to us. As was said, when speaking of this subject under a different phase, the eye cannot see and study itself. It is a mechanical organism, capable only of reaction as acted upon, capable only of seeing results, but never able to penetrate to the hidden springs which underlie the event. Just so is it with the Sense and Understanding. They are mere mechanical faculties capable of acting as they are acted upon, but never able to go behind the appearance to its final source. On such a hypothesis as this all science is impossible, but most of all a science of the human mind. If man is enclosed by such walls, no knowledge of his central self can be gained. He may know what he does; but what he is, is as inscrutable to him as what God is. As such a being, he is only a higher order of brute. He has some dim perceptions, some vague feelings, but he has no knowledge; he is sure of nothing. He can reach no ground which is ultimate, no Rock which he knows is immutable. Is man such a being? The longings and aspirations of the ages roll back an unceasing No! He is capable of placing himself before himself, of analyzing that self to the very groundwork of his being. All the laws of his constitution, all the forms of his activity, he can clearly and amply place before himself and know them. And how is this? It is because God has endowed him with an EYE like unto His own, which enables man to be self-comprehending, as He is self-comprehending,—the Reason, with which man may read himself as a child reads a book; that man can make "the form of thought the matter of thought." True, the Understanding is shut out from any consideration of the forms of thought; but man is not simply or mainly an Understanding. He is, in his highest being, a spiritual person, whom God has endowed with the faculty of Vision; and the great organic evil, which the fall wrought into the world, was this very denial of the spiritual light, and this crowding down and out of sight, of the spiritual person beneath the animal nature, this denial of the essential faculties of such person, and this elevation of the lower faculties of the animal nature, the Sense and Understanding, into the highest place, which is involved in all such teachings as we are criticizing.
Mr. Spencer's remarks upon "Matter" are no nearer the truth. In almost his first sentence there is a grievous logical faux pas. He says: "Matter is either infinitely divisible or it is not; no third possibility can be named." Yet we will name one, as follows: The divisibility of matter has no relation to infinity. And this third supposition happens to be the truth. But it will be said that the question should be stated thus: Either there is a limit to the divisibility of matter, or there is no limit. This statement is exhaustive, because limitation belongs to matter. Of these alternatives there can be no hesitation which one to choose. There is a limit to the divisibility of matter. This answer cannot be given by the physical sense; for no one questions but what it is incapable of finding a limit. The mental sense could not give it, because it is a question of actual substance and not of ideal forms. The Reason gives the answer. Matter is limited at both extremes. Its amount is definite, as are its final elements. These "ultimate parts" have "an under and an upper surface, a right and a left side." When, then, one of these parts shall be broken, what results? Not pieces, as the materialist, thinking only in the Sense, would have us believe. When a final "part" shall be broken, there will remain no matter,—to the sense nothing. To it, the result would be annihilation. But the Reason declares that there would be left God's power in its simplicity,—that final Unit out of which all diversity becomes.
The subsequent difficulties raised respecting the solidity of Matter may be explained thus. And for convenience sake, we will limit the term Matter to such substances as are object to the physical sense, like granite, while Force shall be used to comprise those finer substances, like the Ether, which are impalpable to the physical sense. Matter is composed of very minute ultimate particles which do not touch, but which are held together by Force. The space between the atoms, which would otherwise be in vacuo, is full of Force. We might be more exhaustive in our analysis, and say—which would be true—that a space-filling force composes the Universe; and that Matter is only Force in one of its modifications. But without this the other statement is sufficient. When, then, a portion of matter is compressed, the force which holds the ultimate particles in their places is overcome by an external force, and these particles are brought nearer together. Now, how is it with the moving body and the collision? Bisect a line and see the truth.
C
A————B
1
A body with a mass of 4 is moving with a velocity of 4 along the line from A to B. At C it meets another body with a mass of 4 at rest. From thence the two move on towards B with a velocity of 2. What has happened? In the body there was a certain amount of force, which set it in motion and kept it in motion. And just here let us make a point. No force is ever lost or destroyed. It is only transferred. When a bullet is fired from a gun, it possesses at one point a maximum of force. From that point this force is steadily transferred to the air and other substances, until all that it received from the powder is spent. But at any one point in its flight, the sum of the force which has been transferred since the maximum, and of the force yet to be transferred, will always equal the maximum. Now, how is it respecting the question raised by Mr. Spencer? The instant of contact is a point in time, not a period, and the transfer of force is instantaneous. C, then, is a point, not a period, and the velocity on the one side is 4 and the other side 2, while the momentum or force is exactly equal throughout the line. If it is said that this proves that a body can pass from one velocity to another without passing through the intermediate velocities, we cannot help it. The above are the facts, and they give the truth. The following sentence of Mr. Spencer is, at least, careless. "For when, of two such units, one moving at velocity 4 strikes another at rest, the striking unit must have its velocity 4 instantaneously reduced to velocity 2; must pass from velocity 4 to velocity 2 without any lapse of time, and without passing through intermediate velocities; must be moving with velocities 4 and 2 at the same instant, which is impossible." If there is any sense in the remark, "instantaneously" must mean a point of time without period. For, if any period is allowed, the sentence has no meaning, since during that period "the striking unit" passes through all "intermediate velocities." But if by instantaneously he means without period, then the last clause of the sentence is illogical, since instant there evidently means a period. For if it means point, then it contradicts the first clause. There, it is asserted that 4 was "reduced" to 2, i. e. that at one point the velocity was 4, and at the next point it was 2, and that there was no time between. If 4 was instantaneously reduced to 2, then the velocity 2 was next after the velocity 4, and not coeval with it. Thus it appears that these two clauses which were meant to be synonymous are contradictory.
Bearing in mind what we have heretofore learned respecting atoms, we shall not be troubled by the objections to the Newtonian theory which follow. In reply to the question, "What is the constitution of these units?" the answer, "We have no alternative but to regard each of them as a small piece of matter," would be true if the Sense was the only faculty which could examine them. But even upon this theory Mr. Spencer's remarks "respecting the parts of which each atom consists," are entirely out of place; for the hypothesis that it is an ultimate atom excludes the supposition of "parts," since that phrase has no meaning except it refers to a final, indivisible, material unit. All that the Sense could say, would be, "What this atom is I know not, but that it is, and is not divisible, I believe." But when we see by the Reason that the ultimate atom, when dissolved, becomes God's power, all difficulty in the question vanishes. Having thus answered the above objections, it is unnecessary to notice the similar ones raised against Boscovich's theory, which is a modification of that of Newton.
Mr. Spencer next examines certain phenomena of motion. The fact that he seeks for absolute motion by the physical sense, a faculty which was only given us to perceive relative—phenomenal—motion, and is, in its kind, incapable of finding the absolute motion, (for if it should see it, it could not know it,) is sufficient to condemn all that he has said on this subject. For the presentations which he has made of the phenomena given us by the Sense does not exhaust the subject. The perplexities therein developed are all resolvable, as will appear further on. The phenomena adduced on page 55 are, then, merely appearances in the physical sense; and the motion is merely relative. In the first instance, the captain walks East with reference to the ship and globe. In the second, he walks East with reference to the ship; the ship sails West with reference to the globe; while the resultant motion is, that he is stationary with reference to this larger object. What, then, can the Sense give us? Only resultant motion, at the most. So we see that "our ideas of Motion" are not "illusive," but deficient. The motion is just what it appears, measured from a given object. It is relative, and this is all the Sense can give. Our author acknowledges that "we tacitly assume that there are real motions"; that "we take for granted that there are fixed points in space, with respect to which all motions are absolute; and we find it impossible to rid ourselves of this idea." A question instantly arises, and it seems to be one which he is bound to entertain, viz: How comes this idea to be? We press this question upon Mr. Spencer, being persuaded that he will find it much more perplexing than those he has entertained. Undoubtedly, "absolute motion cannot even be imagined." No motion can be imagined, though the moving body may be. But by no means does it follow, "much less known." This involves that the knowing faculty is inferior to, and more circumscribed than, the imagining faculty, when the very opposite is the fact. Neither does it follow from what is said in the paragraph beginning with, "For motion is change of place," that "while we are obliged to think that there is absolute motion, we find absolute motion incomprehensible." The Universe is limited and bounded, and is a sphere. We may assume that the centre of the sphere is at rest. Instantly absolute motion becomes comprehensible, for it is motion measured from that point. Surely there can be no harm in the supposition. The Reason shows us that the supposition is the truth; and that that centre is the throne of the eternal God. In this view not only is motion, apart from the "limitations of space," totally unthinkable, but it is absolutely impossible. Motion cannot be, except as a formal body is. Hence, to speak of motion in "unlimited space" is simply absurd. Formal object cannot be, except as thereby a limit is established in Space. Hence it is evident that "absolute motion" is not motion with reference to "unlimited Space," which would be the same as motion without a moving; but is motion with reference to that point fixed in Space, around which all things revolve, but which is itself at perfect rest.
"Another insuperable difficulty presents itself, when we contemplate the transfer of Motion." Motion is simply the moving of a body, and cannot be transferred. The force which causes the motion is what is transferred. All that can be said of motion is, that it is, that it increases, that it diminishes, that it ceases. If the moving body impinges upon another moving body, and causes it to move, it is not motion that is transferred, but the force which causes the motion. The motion in the impinging body is diminished, and a new motion is begun in the body which was at rest. Again it is asked: "In what respect does a body after impact differ from itself before impact?" And further on: "The motion you say has been communicated. But how? What has been communicated? The striking body has not transferred a thing to the body struck; and it is equally out of the question to say that it has transferred an attribute." Observe now that a somewhat is unquestionably communicated; and the question is:—What is it? Query. Does Mr Spencer mean to comprehend the Universe in "thing" and "attribute"? He would seem to. If he does, he gives a decision by assertion without explanation or proof, which involves the very question at issue, which is, Is the somewhat transferred a "thing" or an "attribute"; and a decision directly contrary to the acknowledgment that a somewhat has been communicated? On the above-named hypothesis his statement should be as follows: A somewhat has been communicated. "Thing" and "attribute" comprise all the Universe. Neither a thing, nor an attribute has been communicated, i. e. no somewhat has been communicated; which contradicts the evidence and the acknowledgment. If on the other hand Mr. Spencer means that "thing" and "attribute" comprise only a part of the Universe, then the question is not fairly met. It may be more convenient for the moment to conclude the Universe in the two terms thing and attribute; and then, as attribute is essential to the object it qualifies, and so cannot be communicated, it will follow that a thing has been communicated. This thing we call force. It is not in hand now to inquire what force is. It is manifest to the Sense that the body is in a different state after impact, than it was before. Something has been put into the body, which, though not directly appreciable to the Sense, is indirectly appreciable by the results, and which is as real an addition as water is to a bowl, when poured in. Before the impact the body was destitute of that kind of force—motor force would be a convenient term—which tended to move it. After the impact a sufficiency of that force was present to produce the motion. It may be asked, where does this force go to when the motion diminishes till the body stops. It passes into the substances which cause the diminution until there is no surplus in the moving body, and at the point of equilibrium motion ceases. If it be now asked, where does this force ultimately go to, it is to be said that it comes from God, and goes to God, who is the Final. The Sense gives only subordinate answers, but the Reason leads us to the Supreme.
If the view adopted be true, Mr. Spencer's halving and halving again "the rate of movement forever," is irrelevant. It is not a mental operation but an actual fact which is to be accounted for. Take a striking illustration. A ball lying on smooth ice is struck with a hockey. Away it goes skimming over the glassy surface with a steadily diminishing velocity till it ceases. It starts, it proceeds, it stops. These are the facts; and the mental operation must accord with them. There is put into the ball, at the instant of contact, a certain amount of motor force. From that instant onward, that force flows out of the ball into the resisting substances by which it is surrounded, until none is left. And it is just as pertinent to ask how all the water can flow out of a pail, as how all the motor force can flow out of a moving substance. "The smallest movement is separated" by no more of "an impassable gap from no movement," than it is from a larger movement above it. That which will account for a movement four becoming two, will account for a movement two becoming zero. The "puzzle," then, may be explained thus. Time is the procession of events. Let it be represented by a line. Take a point in that line, which will then mark its division but represent no period. On one side of that point is rest; on the other motion. That point is the point of contact, and occupies no period. At this point the motion is maximum. The force instantly begins to flow off, and continues in a steady stream until none is left, and the body is again at rest. Here, also, we take a point. This is the point of zero. It again divides the line. Before the bisection is motion; after the bisection is rest. All this cannot be perceived by the Sense, nor conceived by the Understanding. It is seen by the Reason. Now observe the actual phenomenon. The ball starts, proceeds, stops. From maximum to zero there is a steady diminution, or nearly enough so for the experiment; at least the diminution can be averaged for the illustration. Then comparing motion with time, the same difficulty falls upon the one as the other. If the motion is halved, the time must be; and so, "mentally," it is impossible to imagine how a moment of time can pass. To the halving faculty—the Sense—this is true, and so we are compelled to correct our course of procedure. This it is. The Sense and Understanding being impotent to discover an absolute unit of any kind, the Sense assumes for itself what meets all practical want—a standard unit, by which it measures parts in Space and Time. So motion must be measured by some assumed standard; and as, like time,—duration,—it can be represented by a line, let them have a common standard. Suppose, then, that the ball's flight occupies ten minutes of time. The line from m to z will be divided into ten exactly equal spaces; and it will be no more difficult to account for the flow of force from 10 to 9, than from 1 to 0. Also let it be observed that the force, like time, is a unit, which the Sense, for its convenience, divides into parts; but that neither those parts, nor any parts, have any real existence. As Time is an indivisible whole, measured off for convenience, so any given force is such a whole, and is so measured off. All this appearing and measuring are phenomenal in the Sense. It is the Reason which sees that they can be only phenomenal, and that behind the appearance is pure Spirit—God, who is primarily out of all relation.
On page 58, near the close of his illustration of the chair, Mr. Spencer says: "It suffices to remark that since the force as known to us is an affection of consciousness, we cannot conceive the force as existing in the chair under the same form without endowing the chair with consciousness." This very strange assertion can only be true, provided a major premiss, No force can be conceived to exist without involving an affection of consciousness in the object in which it apparently inheres, is true. Such a premiss seems worse than absurd; it seems silly. We cannot learn that force exists, without our consciousness is affected thereby; but this is a very different thing from our being unable to conceive of a force as existing, without there is a consciousness in the object through which it appears. If Mr. Spencer had said that no force can be, without being exerted, and no force can be exerted, without an affection of the consciousness of the exertor, he would have uttered the truth. We would then have the following result. Primarily all force is exerted by the Deity; and he is conscious thereof. He draws the chair down just as really as though the hand were visible. Secondarily spiritual persons are endowed by their Creator with the ability to exert his force for their uses, and so I lift the chair. The great error, which appears on every page of Mr. Spencer's book and invalidates all his conclusions, shows itself fully here. He presents images from the Sense, and then tries to satisfy the Reason—the faculty which calls for an absolute account—by the analyses of that Sense. His attempt to "halve the rate," his remark that "the smallest movement is separated by an impassable gap from no movement," and many such, are only pertinent to the Sense, can never be explained by the Sense, and are found by the Reason to need, and be capable of, no such kind of explanation as the Sense attempts; but that the phenomena are appearances in wholes, whose partitions cannot be absolute, and that these wholes are accounted for by the being of an absolute and infinite Person—God, who is utterly impalpable to the Sense, and can be known only by the Reason.
The improper use of the Sense mentioned above, is, if possible, more emphatically exemplified in the remarks upon "the connection between Force and Matter." "Our ultimate test of Matter is the ability to resist." This is true to the Sense, but no farther. "Resist" what? Other matter, of course. Thus is the sensuousness made manifest. In the Sense, then, we have a material object. But Force is not object to the Sense directly, but only indirectly by its effects through Matter. The Sense, in its percept, deems the force other than the matter. Hence it is really no more difficult for the Sense to answer the question, How could the Sun send a force through 95,000,000 of miles of void to the Earth and hold it, than through solid rock that distance? All that the Sense can do is to present the phenomena. It is utterly impotent to account for the least of them.
In the following passage, on page 61, Mr. Spencer seems to have been unaccountably led astray. He says: "Let the atoms be twice as far apart, and their attractions and repulsions will both be reduced to one fourth of their present amounts. Let them be brought within half the distance, and then attractions and repulsions will both be quadrupled. Whence it follows that this matter will as readily as not assume any other density; and can offer no resistance to any external agents." Now if this be true, there can be no "external agents" to which to offer any "resistance." It is simply to assert that all force neutralizes itself; and that matter is impossible. But the conclusion does not "follow." It is evidently based on the supposition that the "attractions and repulsions" are contra-acting forces which exactly balance each other, and so the molecules are held in their position by no force. Instead of this, they are co-acting forces, which are wholly expended in holding the molecules in their places. The repulsions, then, are expended in resisting pressure from without which seeks to crowd the particles in upon themselves and thus disturb their equilibrium; while the attractions are expended in holding the particles down to their natural distance from each other when any disturbing force attempts to separate them. Hence, referring to the two cases mentioned, in the first instance the power of resistance is reduced to one fourth, and this corresponds with the fact; and in the second instance the power of resistance is increased fourfold, and this corresponds with the fact.
We thus arrive at the end of Mr. Spencer's remarks concerning the material Universe and of our strictures thereon. Perhaps the reader's mind cannot better be satisfied as to the validity of these strictures than by presenting an outline of the system furnished by the Reason, and upon which they are based.
The Reason gives, by a direct and immediate intuition, and as a necessary a priori idea, God. This is a spontaneous, synthetical act, precisely the same in kind with that which gives a simple a priori principle, as idea. In it the Reason intuits, not a single principle seen to be necessary simply, but the fact that all possible principles must be combined in a perfectly harmonious unity, in a single Being, who thereby possesses all possible endowments; and so is utterly independent, and is seen to be the absolute and infinite Person, the perfect Spirit. This act is no conclusion of the One from the many in a synthetical judgment, but is entirely different. It is the necessary seeing of the many in the One; and so is not a judgment but an intuition, not a guess but a certainty. God, then, is known, when known at all, not "by plurality, difference, and relation," but by an immediate insight into his unity, and so is directly known as he is. And the whole Universe is, that creatures might be, to whom this revelation was possible. Among the other necessary endowments which this intuition reveals, is that of immanent power commensurate with his dignity, and adequate to realize in actual creatures the necessary a priori ideas, which he also possesses as endowments. Power is, then, a simple idea, incapable of analysis; and which cannot therefore be defined, except by synonymous terms; and to which President Hopkins's remark upon moral obligation is equally pertinent; viz: "that we can only state the occasion on which it arises." From these data the a priori idea of the Universe may be developed as follows:—
God, the absolute and infinite Person, possesses, as inherent endowment forever immanent in himself, Universal Genius; which is at once capacity and faculty, in which he sees, and by which he sees, all possible ideas, and these in all possible combinations or ideals. Thus has he all possible knowledge. From the various ideal systems which thus are, he, having perfect wisdom, and according his choice to the behest of his own worth, selects that one which is thus seen to be best; and thereby determines the forms and laws under which the Universe shall become. He also possesses, as inherent endowment, all power; i. e. the ability to realize every one of his ideals; but not the ability to violate the natural laws of his being, as to make two and two five. The ideal system is only ideal: the power is simply power; and so long as the two remain isolated, no-thing will be. Therefore, in order to the realization of his ideal, it must be combined with the power; i. e., the power must be organized according to the ideal. How, then, can the power, having been sent forth from God, be organized? Thus. If the power goes forth in its simplicity, it will be expended uselessly, because there is no substance upon which it may be exercised. It follows, then, that, if exercised at all, it must be exercised upon itself. When, therefore, God would create the Universe, he sent forth two "pencils," or columns of power, of equal and sufficient volume, which, acting upon each other from opposite directions, just held each other in balance, and thus force was. These two "pencils," thus balancing each other, would result in a sphere of "space-filling force." The point of contact would determine the first place in Space, and the first point in Time; from which, if attainable, an absolute measure of each could be made. All we have now attained is the single duality "space-filling force," which is wholly homogeneous, is of sufficient volume to constitute the Universe, and yet by no means is the Universe. There is only Chaos, "without form and void, and darkness" is "upon the face of the deep." Now must "the Spirit of God move upon the face of the waters"; then through vast and to us immeasurable periods of time, through cycle and epicycle, the work of organization will go on. Ever moving under forms laid down in the a priori ideal, God's power turns upon itself, as out of the crush of elemental chaos the Universe is being evolved. During this process, whatever of the force is to act under the law of heat in the a priori ideal, assumes that form and the heat force becomes; whatever is to act under the law of magnetism, assumes that form, and magnetic force becomes; so of light, and the various forms of matter. At length, in the revolution of the cycles, the Universe attains that degree of preparation which fits it for living things to be, and the life force is organized; and by degrees all its various forms are brought forth. After another vast period that point is reached when an animal may be organized, which shall be the dwelling-place for a time of a being whose life is utterly different in kind from any animal life, and man appears. Now in all these vast processes, be it observed that God is personally present, that the first energy was his, and that every subsequent energizing act is his special and personal act. He organized the duality, force. He then organized this force into heat-force, light-force, magnetic-force, matter-force, life-force, and soul-force. And so it is that his personal supervision and energy is actually present in every atom of the Universe. When we turn from this process of thought to the sensible facts, and speak of granite, sandstone, schist, clay, herbage, animals, yes, of the thousand kinds of substance which appear to the eye, it is to be remembered that all these are but forms to the Sense of that "reason-conception," force,—that primal duality, which power acting upon itself becomes. Now as the machine can never carve any other image than those for which it is specially constructed, and must work just as it is made to work, so the Sense, which is purely mechanical, can never do any other than the work for which it was made, can never transcend the laws of its organization. It can only give forms—results, but is impotent to go behind them. It can only say that things are, but never say what or why they are.
Seen in the light of the theory which has thus been presented, Mr. Spencer's difficulties vanish. Matter is force. Motion is matter affected by another form of force. The "puzzle" of motion and rest is only phenomenal to the Sense; it is an appearance of force acting through another force. It may also be said that the Universe is solid force. There is no void in it. There is no nook, no crevice or cranny, that is not full of force. To seek, then, for some medium through which force may traverse vast distances, is the perfection of superfluity. From centre to circumference it is present, and controls all things, and is all things. So it is no more difficult to see how force reaches forth and holds worlds in their place, than how it draws down the pebble which a boy has thrown into the air. It is no substance which must travel over the distance, it is rather an inflexible rod which swings the worlds round in their orbits. Whether, then, we look at calcined crags or lilies of the valley, whether astronomy, or geology, or chemistry be our study, the objects grouped under those sciences will be found to be equally the results of this one force, acting under different laws, and taking upon itself different forms, and becoming different objects.
That faculty and that line of thought, which have given so readily the solution of the difficulties brought to view by Mr. Spencer's examination of the outer world, will afford us an easier solution, if possible, of the difficulties which he has raised respecting the inner world. That which is not of us, but is far from us, may perchance be imperfectly known; but ourselves, what we are, and the laws of our being, may be certainly and accurately known. And this is the highest knowledge. It may be important, as an element of culture, that we become acquainted with many facts respecting the outer world. It cannot but be of the utmost importance, that we know ourselves; for thus only can we fulfil the behest of that likeness to God, in which we were originally created. We seek for, we may obtain, we have obtained knowledge in the inner world,—a knowledge sure, steadfast, immutable.
It seems to be more than a mere verbal criticism, rather a fundamental one, that it is not "our states of consciousness" which "occur in succession"; but that the modifications in our consciousness so occur. Consciousness is one, and retains that oneness throughout all modifications. These occur in the unity, as items of experience affect it. Is this series of modifications "of consciousness infinite or finite"? To this question experience can give no answer. All experiments are irrelevant; because these can only be after the faculty of consciousness is. They can go no further back than the forms of the activity. These they may find, but they cannot account for. A law lies on all those powers by which an experiment may be made, which forever estops them from attaining to the substance of the power which lies back of the form. The eye cannot examine itself. The Sense, as mental capacity for the reception of impressions, cannot analyze its constituents. The Understanding, as connective faculty concluding in judgments, is impotent to discover why it must judge one way and not another. It is only when we ascend to the Reason that we reach the region of true knowledge. Here, overlooking, analyzing all the conduct of the lower powers, and holding the self right in the full blaze of the Eye of self, Man attains a true and fundamental self-knowledge. From this Mount of Vision we know that infinity and finiteness have no pertinence to modifications of consciousness, or in fact to any series. We attain to the further knowledge that this series is, must be, limited; because the constituted beings, in whom it in each case inheres, are limited, and had a beginning. It matters not now to inquire how a self-conscious person could be created. It is sufficient to know that one has been created. This fact involves the further fact that consciousness, as an actuality, began in the order of nature, after the being to whom it belongs as endowment, or, in other words, an organization must be, before the modifications which inhere in that organization can become. The attainment of this as necessary law is far more satisfactory than any experience could be, were it possible; for we can never know but that an experience may be modified; but a law given in the intuition is immutable. The fact, ascertained many pages back, that the subject and the object are identical under the final examination of the Reason, enables us to attain the present end of the chain. The question is one of fact, and is purely psychological. It cannot be passed upon, or in any way interfered with, by logical processes. It is only by examination, by seeing, that the truth can be known. Faraday ridiculed as preposterous the pretension that a vessel propelled by steam could cross the ocean, and demonstrated, to his entire satisfaction, the impossibility of the event. Yet the Savannah crossed, and laughed at him. Just so here, all arguing is folly. The question is one of fact in experience. And upon it the soul gives undoubted answer, as we have stated. Nor is it so difficult, as some would have us believe, to see how this may be. Consciousness is an indivisible unity, and, as we have before seen, may best be defined as the light in which the person intuits his own acts and activities. This unity is abiding, and is ground for the modifications. It is, then, now, and the person now knows what the present modification is. The person does not need to look to memory and learn what the former modification was. It immediately knows what the modification is now. Thus a simple attainment of the psychological truth through a careful examination dispels as a morning mist the whole cloud of Mr. Spencer's difficulties. Well might President Hopkins say, "The only question is, what is it that consciousness gives? If we say that it does thus give both the subject and the object, that simple affirmation sweeps away in a moment the whole basis of the ideal and skeptical philosophy. It becomes as the spear of Ithuriel, and its simple touch will change what seemed whole continents of solid speculation into mere banks of German fog." We have learned, then, that it is not possible, or necessary, either to "perceive" or "conceive" the terminations of consciousness, because this involves the discovery, by mechanical faculties, of their own being and state before they became activities on the one hand, which is a contradiction, and on the other an utter transcending of the sphere of their capability, the attempt to do which would be a greater folly than would be that of the hand to see Jupiter. But we have intuited the law, which declares the necessity of a beginning for us and all creatures; and we ever live in the light of the present end. When, then, Mr. Spencer says that "Consciousness implies perpetual change and the perpetual establishment of relations between its successive phases," we know that he has uttered a fundamental psychological error, in fact, that almost the opposite is the truth. Consciousness is the permanent, the abiding, the changeless. It is the light of the personal Eye. Into it all changes come; but they are only incidental. In the finite and partial person, they come, because such person must grow; and so, because of his partiality and incompleteness, they become necessary incidents; but let there be a Person having all knowledge, who therefore cannot learn, having all perfection, who therefore cannot change, and it is plain that these facts in no way interfere with his consciousness. All variety is immanent in its light, and no change can come into it because there is no change to come; but this Person sees all his endowments at once, in the unity of this his light, just as we see some of our endowments in the unity of this our light. The change is not in the consciousness, but in the objects which come into it. This view also disposes of the theory that "any mental affection must be known as like these foregoing ones or unlike those"; that, "if it is not thought of in connection with others—not distinguished or identified by comparison with others, it is not recognized—is not a state of consciousness at all." Such comparison we have found only incidental in consciousness, pertaining to things in the Sense and Understanding and not essential. Thus does a true psychology dissipate all these difficulties as a true cosmology explained the perplexities "of Motion and Rest."
Take another step and we can answer the question "What is this that thinks?" It is a spiritual person. What, then, is a spiritual person? A substance—a kind of force—the nature of which we need inquire about no further than to know that it is suitable to the use which is made of it, which is organized, according to a set of constituting laws, into such spiritual person. The substance without the laws would be simple substance, and nothing more. The laws without the substance would be only laws, and could give no being having no ground in which to inhere. But the substance as ground and the complete set of laws as inhering in the ground, and being its organization when combined, become a spiritual person who thinks. The ego, that is the sense of personality, is only one of the forms of activity of this being, and therefore cannot be said to think. The pages now before us are all vitiated by the theory that "successive impressions and ideas constitute consciousness." Once attain to the true psychology of the person, and learn that consciousness is as stated above,—an abiding light into which modifications come,—and there arises no difficulty in believing in the reality of self, and in entirely justifying that belief by Reason. Yea, more, from such a standpoint it is utter unreason, the height of folly, to doubt for an instant, for immanent and central in the light of Reason lies the solemn fact of man's selfhood. We arrive, then, directly at Mr. Spencer's conclusion, that "Clearly, a true cognition of self implies a state in which the knowing and the known are one—in which subject and object are identified," and we know that such a state is an actuality. Mr. Mansel may hold that such an assertion is the annihilation of both, but he is wholly wrong. The Savannah has crossed the Atlantic.
We attain, then, exactly the opposite result from Mr. Spencer. We have seen that "Ultimate Scientific Ideas are all" presentative "of realities" which can "be comprehended." We have, indeed, found it to be true, that, "after no matter how great a progress in the colligation of facts and the establishment of generalizations ever wider and wider,—after the merging of limited and derivative truths in truths that are larger and deeper, has been carried no matter how far,—the fundamental truth remains as much beyond reach as ever." But having learned this, we do not arrive at the conclusion that "the explanation of that which is explicable does but bring out into greater clearness the inexplicableness of that which remains behind." On the other hand we know that such a conclusion is erroneous, and that the method by which it is reached is a false method, and utterly irrelevant to the object sought. Could this lesson but be thoroughly learned, Mr. Spencer's work, and our work, would not have been in vain. Only by a method differing from this in kind—a method in which there is no "colligation of facts," and no "generalizations" concluded therefrom, but a simple, direct insight into Pure Truth—can "the fundamental truth" be known; and thus it may be known by every human soul. "God made man in his own image." In our scheme there is ample room for the man of Science, with the eye of Sense, to run through the Universe, and gather facts. With telescope and microscope, he may pursue them, and capture innumerable multitudes of them. But having done this, we count it folly to attempt to generalize truth therefrom. But holding up the facts in the clear light of Reason, and searching them through and through, we see in them the immutable principle, known by a spontaneous, immediate, intuitive knowledge to be immutable, and thus we "know the truth."