A TALK ON METAPHYSICS.
One of the greatest obstacles to the spread of philosophical education is the false opinion which, through the efforts of a school of low scientists, has gained much ground—viz., that metaphysics, the central and most important part of philosophy, is only a mass of useless abstractions and unintelligible subtleties; a science à priori, telling us nothing about facts; a dismal relic of mediæval ignorance and conceit; a thing, therefore, which has no longer a claim to hold a place in the world of science. This is a shameless misrepresentation, and as such it might be treated with the contempt it deserves; but it is so carefully insinuated, and with such an assurance, that it succeeds in making its way onward, and in gaining more and more credit among unreflecting people. We intend, therefore, to give it a challenge. A short exposition of the nature and object of metaphysics will suffice, we hope, to show our young readers the worthlessness of such mischievous allegations.
What is metaphysics? It is, answers one of the most eminent metaphysicians, Francis Suarez, that part of philosophy which treats of real beings as such. This definition is universally accepted. It is needless to remark that a being is said to be real when it exists in nature; whereas that which has no existence except in our conceptions is called a being of reason. But it is well to observe that the expression, real being, is used in two different senses. In the first it means a complete natural entity, which has its own separate existence in nature, independently of the existence of any other created thing; as when we say that Peter, John, and James are real beings. In the second it means some incomplete entity, which has no separate existence of its own, but is the mere appurtenance of some other thing to the existence of which it owes its being; as Peter's life, John's eloquence, James' stature. Of course, every substance, whether material or spiritual, simple or compound, is a complete entity; but every constituent, attribute, property, or quality of complete beings is an incomplete entity, inasmuch as it has no separate existence, but only partakes of the existence of the being to which it belongs.
A real, complete entity is said to be a physical being, because it possesses all that is required to exist separately in the physical order of things. On the contrary, a real, incomplete entity is said to be a metaphysical being. Thus, movement, velocity, time, force, attraction, repulsion, heat, cold, weight, work, resistance, figure, hardness, softness, solidity, liquidity, etc., are metaphysical beings. Those modern men of science who shudder at the very name of metaphysics would do well to consider for a while this short catalogue of metaphysical entities. They would find that it contains the very things with which they are most familiar. If metaphysical entities are only abstractions—empty and useless abstractions, as they declare—what shall we say of all their scientific books? Are they not all concerned with those dreadful metaphysical entities which we have enumerated? Yet we would scarcely say that they treat of useless abstractions. Certainly, when a drop of rain is falling, the action by which it is determined to fall is not an abstraction, the velocity acquired is not an abstraction, and the fall itself is not an abstraction. In like manner, the rotation of the earth, the hardness of a stone, the sound of a trumpet, are not abstractions; and yet all these are entities of the metaphysical order. Therefore, to contend that metaphysics is a science of pure abstractions is nothing but an evident absurdity. The object of metaphysics is no less real than the object of physics itself.
It may, perhaps, be objected that, though the material object of metaphysics is real and concrete in nature, we despoil it of its reality as soon as we, in our metaphysical reasonings, rise from the individual to the universal; for universals, as such, have no existence but in our conception.
The answer is obvious. The metaphysical universals must not be confounded with the logical universals. The logical universal—as genus, difference, etc.—expresses a mere concept of the mind, and is a mere being of reason, or a second intention, as it is called; but the metaphysical universal—as figure, force, weight, etc., is not a mere being of reason; for its object is a reality which can be found existing in the physical order. It is true that all such realities exist under individual conditions, and therefore are not formally but only fundamentally, universal; for their formal universality consists only in their mode of existing in our mind when we drop all actual thought of their individual determinations. But, surely, they do not cease to be realities because the mind, in thinking of them, pays no attention to their individuation; and, therefore, metaphysical universals, even as universal, retain their objective reality.
We might say more on this subject, were it not that this is hardly the place for discussing the merits of formalism, realism, or nominalism. We can, however, give a second answer, which will dispose of the objection in a very simple manner. The answer is this: Granted that abstractions, as such, have no existence but in our intellect. Nevertheless, what we conceive abstractedly exists concretely in the objects of which it is predicated and from which it is abstracted. Humanity in our conception is an abstraction, and yet is to be found in every living man; velocity, likewise, is an abstraction, and yet is to be found in all real movement through space; quantity also, is an abstraction, and yet is to be found in every existing body. Therefore, abstract things do not cease to be real in nature, though they are abstract in our conception. This is an evident truth. If the adversaries of metaphysics are bold enough to deny it, then they at the same time and in the same breath deny all real science, and thus forfeit all claim to the honorable title of scientific men. Statics and dynamics, geometry and calculus, algebra and arithmetic, are abstract sciences. No one will deny that they are most useful; yet they would be of no use whatever if what they consider in the abstract had no concrete correspondent in the real world. Chemistry itself, and all the experimental sciences, inasmuch as they are sciences, are abstract. Atomic weights, inasmuch as they fall under scientific reasoning, are abstractions; genera, species, and varieties in zoölogy and botany are abstract conceptions; crystalline forms in mineralogy are as abstract as any purely geometric relation. Indeed, without abstractions, science is not even conceivable; for all science, as such, proceeds from abstract principles to abstract conclusions. But though the process of scientific reasoning be abstract, real science deals with real objects and real relations. And such is exactly the case with metaphysics, which is the universal science of all reality, and the queen of all the real sciences.
These general remarks suffice, without any further development, to vindicate the reality of the material object of metaphysics. But here the question arises, Are all real beings without exception the object of this science?
Some authors, in past centuries, thought that the only object of metaphysics was to treat of beings above nature; and accordingly taught that God and the angels alone were metaphysical beings—that is, beings ranging above nature. On the contrary, man and this visible world—that is, all creatures liable to local motion—they called natural beings, and considered them to be the proper and exclusive object of physical science. This view was grounded, apparently, on the latent assumption that metaphysics meant above physics; which, however, is not correct, as μετὰ does not mean above, but after; and therefore metaphysical is not synonymous with supernatural.[89] On the other hand, God and the angels are undoubtedly physical beings; for they are complete beings, having their complete physical nature and their separate existence. We cannot call them metaphysical beings; for we know of no beings which deserve the name of metaphysical but those incomplete entities which are attained through the intellectual analysis of physical and complete beings.
As to man and all the other natural things, every one will see that though they are, in one respect, the proper object of physics, yet they are also, in another respect, the proper object of metaphysics; and this too, without in the least confounding the two branches of knowledge. The attributions of physics and of metaphysics are, in fact, so distinct that there can be no danger of the one invading the province of the other, even though they deal with the same subject. The office of the physicist is to investigate natural facts, to discuss them, to make a just estimate of them, and to discover the laws presiding over their production. This, and no other, is the object of physics, to accomplish which it is not necessary to know the essence of natural things. Hence, the physicist, after ascertaining the phenomena of nature and their laws, cannot go further in his capacity of physicist. But where he ends his work, just there the metaphysician begins; for his office is to take those facts and laws as a ground for his speculations in order to discover the essential principles involved in the constitution of natural causes, and to account by such principles for all the attributes and properties of things. This is the duty of the metaphysician. Thus natural things, although an object of physics when considered as following certain laws of action or of movement, are nevertheless an object of metaphysics when considered in their being and intimate constitution.
On this point even physicists agree. "Instead of regarding the proper object of physical science as a search after essential causes," says one of the best modern champions of scientific progress, "it ought to be, and must be, a search after facts and relations."[90] Hence, physical science deals with natural facts and their relations exclusively; the search after causes and essential principles constitutes the object of a higher science; and such a science is real philosophy, or metaphysics proper.
I was surprised at finding in Webster's English Dictionary (v. Metaphysics) the following words:
"The natural division of things that exist is into body and mind, things material and immaterial. The former belong to physics, and the latter to the science of metaphysics." From what we have just said, it is clear that this division is not accurate. We must add that it is not consistent with the definition of metaphysics given by the same author only a few lines before. Metaphysics, says he, is "the science of the principles and causes of all things existing." Now, if material things existing do not belong to metaphysics, it evidently follows that either material things existing have no principles and no causes, or that such principles and causes are no object of science. But it is obvious that neither conclusion can be admitted. Furthermore, it is well known that all metaphysicians treat of the constitution of bodies—a fact which conclusively proves that material things are not excluded from the object of metaphysics.
Here, however, we must observe that some modern writers, while conceding this last point, contend that material things must be mentally freed from their materiality before they can be considered as an object of metaphysics. Their reason is, that this science is concerned with real things only inasmuch as they consist of principles known to the intellect alone. Matter, they say, is not an object of the intellect. Therefore, the object of metaphysics must be immaterial—that is, either a thing which has no matter of its own, or at least a thing which is conceived, through mental abstraction, as free from matter.
But we should remember that, according to the common doctrine, the true and adequate object of metaphysics is all real being as such, whether it be material or immaterial; and that it is, therefore, the duty of the metaphysician to divide substance into material and immaterial, and to give the definition of both; for it belongs to each science to point out and define the parts of its own object. Hence, the metaphysician is bound to explain how things material differ from things immaterial, and has to ascertain what metaphysical predicates are attributable to material substance on account of its very materiality.[91] Now, it is evident that nothing of the kind can ever be done by a philosopher who, through mental abstraction, considers material substance as freed from its matter. For when, by such an abstraction, he has taken away the matter, what else can he look upon as a ground of distinction between material and immaterial beings? We must admit, then, that material things, inasmuch as they are real things, and only in that manner in which they are real (that is, with their own matter), are a proper object of metaphysics.
To the patrons of the opposite view we confidently answer that their argument has no sound foundation; for though it is true that no material thing, owing to the complexity of its simultaneous actions on our senses, distinctly reveals to us its material constitution, yet it is not true that material things cannot be understood by our intellect unless they are mentally stripped of their matter. To understand them thus would be simply to misunderstand them. Matter and form are the essential constituents of material substance, as all metaphysicians admit; it is, therefore, impossible to understand the essence of material substance, unless the intellect reaches the matter as well as the form.[92] Let us add that those very authors who in theory affect to exclude matter from the object of metaphysics find it impossible to do away with it in practice, and, in spite of the theory, devote to matter, as such, a great number of pages in their own metaphysical treatises.
Thus far we have defined the object of metaphysics. We now come to its method, on account of which it is so frequently assailed by the votaries of experimental science. Metaphysics, they say, is a science à priori; it is, therefore, altogether incompetent to decide any matters of fact; and, if so, what is the use of metaphysics? To this reasoning, which claims no credit for perspicacity, many answers can be given.
And first let us suppose for a moment that metaphysics is a science altogether à priori. Does it follow that it has no claim to our most careful attention? Geometry, algebra, and all pure mathematics are à priori sciences. Are they despised on this account? We see, on the contrary, that for this very reason they are held in greater honor and lauded as the most thorough, the most exact, and the most irrefragable of all sciences. Some will say that the object of mathematics is not to establish natural facts, but only relations; but this is equally true of metaphysics. The metaphysician, when treating of physical subjects, assumes the facts and laws of nature as they are presented to him by the physicist; he has not to establish them anew, but only to account for them by showing the reason of their being. Metaphysics would, therefore, be as good, as excellent, and as interesting as geometry, even if it were an à priori science.
But, secondly, what is the real case? To proceed à priori is to argue from the cause to the effect, and from antecedents to consequents; whereas, to proceed à posteriori is to argue from the effect to the cause, and from consequents to antecedents. Now, it is a fact that in metaphysics we frequently argue from the cause to the effect, as is done in other sciences too; but it is no less a fact that we even more frequently argue from the effect to the cause. The very name of metaphysics, which is the bugbear of our opponents, clearly shows that such is the case. Real philosophy, in fact, is called metaphysics for two reasons, the first of which is extrinsic and historical, the second intrinsic and logical. The historical consists in the fact that Aristotle's speculations on those incomplete entities which enter into the constitution of things were handed down to us under the name of metaphysics. The logical is, because the knowledge of such incomplete entities must be gathered from the consideration of natural beings by means of an intellectual analysis, which cannot be made properly without a previous extensive knowledge of the concrete order of things. This latter knowledge, which must be gathered by observation and experiment, constitutes physical science. Hence, the rational knowledge which comes after it, and is based on it, is very properly called metaphysical, and that part of philosophy which develops such a knowledge metaphysics—that is, after-physics.
Now, all analysis belongs to the à posteriori process; for it proceeds from the compound to its components, and therefore from the effect to the cause. Therefore, metaphysics, inasmuch as it analyzes natural beings and finds out their constituents, is an à posteriori science; and since such an analysis is the very ground of all metaphysical speculations, we must conclude that the whole of metaphysics is based on the à posteriori process, no less than physics itself.
Thirdly, that metaphysics cannot decide any matter-of-fact question is a silly objection; as it is evident that to establish the existence of God, the spirituality of the human soul, the creation of the world, etc., is nothing less than to decide matters of fact. It may be that, in the opinion of the utilitarian, such facts are not very interesting; they are facts, however, as much and as truly as the rotation of the earth, atmospheric pressure, and universal attraction are facts; and they are much more important, too.
We might also maintain that metaphysics is mainly a science of facts; for there are facts of the intellectual as well as of the experimental order. That every effect must have a cause is a fact. That every circle must have a centre is another fact. That a part is less than the whole is a third fact. Intellectual facts are as numerous and as certain as the facts of nature; and it is through them that our experimental knowledge of natural things is raised to the dignity of scientific cognition. For there is no science, whether inductive or deductive, without reasoning, and no reasoning without principles; and every principle is a fact of the intellectual order. Those critics who are wont to slight metaphysics as an à priori science would, therefore, do well to consider that no true demonstration can be made but by à priori principles, and that true demonstration constitutes the perfection of science.
We may here remark that metaphysics is usually divided into general and special, and that the à priori character, for which it is assailed, belongs to general metaphysics only. General metaphysics treats of the constituents, attributes, and properties of being in general, and is called ontology. Ontology is considered as a necessary preparation for the study of special metaphysics, which, from the knowledge of being in general, descends to the examination of the different classes and genera of beings in particular. Our men of science, accustomed as they are to the inductive method, do not approve of this form of proceeding. On what ground, they ask, do you impose upon the student notions, definitions, and principles à priori, as you do in ontology, affirming in general that which has not yet been examined in particular, and taking for granted what has yet to be established and verified?
The answer is obvious enough. General metaphysics assumes nothing but what is already admitted as evident by all mankind. It is mainly concerned with the notions conveyed by such words as being, cause, effect, principle, essence, existence, substance, accident, etc. These notions are common, and their methodical explanation is based on common-sense principles—that is, on evident, intellectual facts. Thus far, therefore, no one can say that we invert the natural order of science; for we start from what is known.
Next comes the analysis of the notions just referred to. The object of this analysis is to point out distinctly the different classes of being, the different genera of causes, the variety of principles, reasons, etc., implied in those general notions, to show their ontological relations, and to account for their distinction. This important investigation, as well as the preceding one, is based on common-sense reasonings, but sometimes not without reference to other truths, which are established and vindicated only in special metaphysics, to which they properly belong. Thus, it is the custom to treat in ontology of the intrinsic possibility of things, and its eternity, necessity, and immutability; but it is only in natural theology that such matters find their full and radical explanation. Of course, whenever an assertion is made, of which the proof is totally or partially deferred to a later time, the assent of the student to it is more or less provisional. It is not, however, in metaphysics only that a student must accept certain things on trust; he thus accepts the equivalents in chemistry, the distances of the planets from the sun in astronomy, and the logarithms in trigonometry.
Yet we confess that philosophical writers and teachers sometimes expose themselves to just criticism by treating in general metaphysics certain matters which it would be better to reserve intact for special treatises. It is doubtless necessary, immediately after logic, to treat of the nature of being, and its principles and its properties in general; but it is extremely difficult, and even dangerous, to undertake the settlement of some questions of ontology connected with the physical department of science before these same questions are sufficiently explored by the light, and disentangled by the analysis, of special metaphysics, to which their full investigation really appertains. What is the use of giving, for instance, an unestablished, and perhaps preposterous, notion of corporeal quantity to him who has as yet to learn what is the essential composition of bodies? Is a student prepared to realize the true nature of the quantity of mass, or of the quantity of volume, who has never yet explored either the mysterious attributes of formal continuity or the intimate constitution of material substance? Certainly not. He may, indeed, make an act of faith on the authority of his professor; but philosophy is not faith, and no professor who understands his duty would ever unnecessarily oblige his pupils to admit anything as true on his own sole authority. Questions connected with the physical laws of causation and movement, or with the nature of sensible qualities and properties, should similarly be deferred to a later time; for no one will be able to deal successfully with them, unless he has already acquired a distinct knowledge of many other things, on which both the right understanding and the right solution of these questions essentially depend. Accordingly, such matters, instead of being treated lightly and perfunctorily at the beginning of the course of metaphysics, should be treated with those others to which they are naturally allied, in order that they may be fully examined and competently decided.
From this it will be seen that we do not want a metaphysical science based on à priori grounds. In all times, metaphysics has been a science of facts; and it could not be otherwise, since its object is real, and all that is real is a matter of fact. Experiment and observation have always supplied the materials of its speculations. All its conclusions about the nature of the soul are drawn from the facts of consciousness; all its affirmations concerning the constitution of bodies are founded on the facts and laws of the physical world; and all its theses on God, his existence and his attributes, are likewise deduced from a positive knowledge of contingent things. To suppose that metaphysical knowledge can be obtained otherwise is such an absurdity that nothing but the most stupid ignorance can be made to believe it. And yet this absurdity is what many of our modern scientists fall into when they contend that metaphysics is an à priori science.
It is not difficult, however, to account for such a dislike of metaphysical reasonings. The greatest number of our scientific men have been brought up under the influence either of Protestantism or of its legitimate offspring, indifferentism; and absolute truth, such as is attained by rigorous metaphysical reasoning, is not congenial to their habit of thought. Protestantism is a system made up of half-truths, half-premises, and half-consequences. A Protestant must at the same time believe the authenticity of the Bible, and reject the authority by which alone the Bible can be proved to be authentic; he must conciliate the liberty of his private judgment with the obedience due to the teaching of his church; he must have the courage to believe that true Christian religion is not that which, from the apostolic times down to our own, has formed so many generations of saints, changed the face of the world, confirmed its own divine origin by a perpetual succession of prodigious works, but that which, starting from Luther or some other mischievous innovator, has never and nowhere produced any fruit of high sanctity or witnessed a single miracle. Hence, to a Protestant mind, truth in its entirety must be embarrassing; since the very essence of Protestantism is to cut truth into pieces, to believe and relish a portion of it, and to reserve some other portion unbelieved and unrelished, lest nothing should be left to protest against.
It is clear that minds so disposed in religious matters cannot be much better disposed in other branches of speculative knowledge; and it is but natural that they should despise metaphysics altogether. "To the healthy scientific mind," says a modern writer, "the fine-spun arguments and the wonderful logical achievements of metaphysicians are at once so bewildering and so distasteful that men of science can scarcely be got to listen even to those who undertake to show that the arguments are but cobwebs, the logic but jingle, and the seeming profundity little more than a jumble of incongruous ideas shrouded in a mist of words."[93] Indeed, when men of science are thus satisfied with their ignorance of philosophy, and shut their eyes and their ears, lest the light, or perhaps the jingle, of logic compel them to learn what mere experimentalism cannot teach, we cease to wonder that they countenance such theories as the Descent of Man, the eternity of matter, or the meteoric origin of the principle of life.
We do not wish to deny the progress of modern science; we fully acknowledge that experimentalism has led to the discovery of important facts. But this is no reason why our men of science should disregard philosophy.
An increase of positive knowledge regarding facts, far from bringing about the exclusion of philosophical reasoning, extends its range, enlarges its foundation, and makes its employment both easier and surer. Accordingly, while we profess gratitude to the modern scientists for their unceasing labors and untiring efforts towards the development of experimental knowledge, we beg leave to remind them that this knowledge is not the ne plus ultra of natural science. Subordinate sciences account in a certain measure for such things as form their special object; but philosophy, the highest, the deepest, and the most universal of sciences, not only embraces in its general scope all the objects of human knowledge, but accounts for them by their highest principles and causes, and makes them not only known, but understood. To know facts is an excellent thing; yet the human mind craves something higher. We are all born to be philosophers. Indeed, our rational nature teaches us very early the first elements of philosophy, and compels us to philosophize. As soon as we acquire the use of reason, we detect ourselves tracing effects to causes, and conclusions to principles; and from that time we experience a strong tendency to generalize such a process, till it extends to all known objects and to the ultimate reasons of their being.
Yet we should reflect that our rational nature, while thus prompting us to such high investigations, does not lead us freely to the goal, but leaves it to our industry to acquaint ourselves with the proper methods of discovering philosophical truth. Negligence in the study of such methods hinders intellectual advancement, and leaves men exposed to the snares of sophistry. Such a negligence on the part of men who are looked upon as the lights of modern science is one of the great evils of the day. Distaste for philosophical instruction, when confined to the lower classes of society, is of little consequence: even in the middle classes it might be comparatively harmless if men were ready to own their ignorance, and forbore judging of what transcends their intellectual acquirements. But in an age like ours, when every one who has a smattering of light literature or of empirical science thinks himself called upon to decide the most abstruse and formidable questions; when countless books and periodicals of a perfidious character are everywhere spread by the unholy efforts of secret societies; and, when a confiding public allow themselves to be led like sheep by such incompetent authorities, then ignorance, supported by presumption or malice on the one side, and by credulity on the other, cannot but be the source of incalculable evils.
Hence it is that all prudent and experienced men have come to the conclusion that one of the greatest necessities of our times is to popularize the study of sound philosophy. Young America needs to be taught that there is a whole world of important truths ranging above the grasp of the vulgar, uncultivated mind, unknown to the pretentious teachers of a material and spurious civilization, and unattainable by those who are not trained to the best use of their intellectual powers. It needs to realize the fact that modern literature and thought in general is full of deceits. It needs to be instructed how to meet a host of high-sounding assertions, plausible fallacies, and elaborate theories, advanced in support of social, religious, or political error. It needs to be enabled, by a sound, uniform, and strong teaching, gradually to form into a compact body, held together by the noble ties of truth, powerful enough to stem the torrent of infidelity, and always ready to defend right and justice against learned hypocrisy, as well as against ignorant sophistry. Grown-up men cannot be reclaimed; they are too much engrossed with material interests to find leisure for the cultivation of their higher faculties; but we are glad to see that our brilliant and unbiassed youth can be given, and are ready to receive, a more intellectual education. Let us only convince them of the importance of philosophy; let us provide them with good, kind, and learned teachers, and the future will be ours.
FOOTNOTES:
[88] Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, by Rev. I. T. Hecker, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C.
[89] Fleming, in his Dictionary of Philosophy (v. Metaphysics), says: "In Latin, metaphysica is synonymous with supernaturalia; and Shakespeare has used metaphysical as synonymous with supernatural:
'... Fate and metaphysical aid doth seem
To have thee crowned.'
—Macbeth, act i., scene 3.
Clemens Alexandrinus (Strom. i.) considered metaphysical as equivalent to supernatural; and is supported by an anonymous Greek commentator, etc."
That Shakespeare's metaphysical aid means the aid of some mysterious power above nature may be conceded. But that in Latin metaphysica is synonymous with supernaturalia is an assertion which can be easily refuted by a simple reference to any of the great Latin works of metaphysics. Nor is it true that Clemens Alexandrinus considered metaphysical as equivalent to supernatural. He only remarks that Aristotle's Metaphysics is that part of philosophy which Plato at one time styled "a contemplation of truly great mysteries," and at other times "dialectics"—that is, "a science which investigates the reasons of the things that are" (τῆς τῶν ὄντων δηλώσεως εὐρητικὴ τίς ἐστιν ἐπιστήμη). Now, the science which investigates the reasons of the things that are extends to all real beings. It is not true, therefore, that Clemens Alexandrinus considered metaphysical as equivalent to supernatural. The truth is that he does not even use the word metaphysics as his own, but only says that Aristotle's Metaphysics contains the investigation and contemplation of "mysteries"—that is, of abstruse things. And since Aristotle's metaphysics is not a science of the supernatural, Clemens Alexandrinus, in quoting the word metaphysics in connection with Aristotle, cannot have considered it as equivalent to the science of the supernatural. Lastly, Clemens Alexandrinus explains that the science which Aristotle called metaphysics, and Plato dialectics, has for its object the consideration of things, and the determination of their powers and attributes, from which it raises itself to their very essence, whence again it ventures to go further, even to God himself, the master of the universe. Επισκοποῦσα τὰ πράγματα, καὶ τὰς δυνάμεις, καὶ τὰς ἐξουσίας δοκιμάζουσα, ὐπεξαναβαίνει περὶ τὴν πάντων κρατίστην οὐσίαν, τολμᾶ τε ἐπέκεινα ἐπὶ τῶν ὄλων Θεὸν (Strom., lib. i. c. 28). This shows that metaphysical science, according to Clemens Alexandrinus, extends to the investigation of all natural things. It cannot, therefore, be said that he considered metaphysical as equivalent to supernatural, whatever may have been the opinion of the anonymous Greek commentator.
[90] Grove, Correlation of Physical Forces.
[91] Suarez, Metaph. Disput., i. sect. 2, n. 25.
[92] S. Thomas says: Intellectus potest intelligere aliquam formam absque individuantibus principiis, non tamen absque materia, a qua dependet ratio illius formæ (in 3 De Anima, lect. 8).
[93] Nature, a Journal of Science, March 13, 1873.