Possibly a new apprehension of nature may come to us through the practical, as distinguished from the mathematical and formal, study of four dimensions. As a child handles and examines the objects with which he comes in contact, so we can mentally handle and examine four-dimensional objects. The point to be determined is this. Do we find something cognate and natural to our faculties, or are we merely building up an artificial presentation of a scheme only formally possible, conceivable, but which has no real connection with any existing or possible experience?

This, it seems to me, is a question which can only be settled by actually trying. This practical attempt is the logical and direct continuation of the experiment Plato devised in the “Meno.”

Why do we think true? Why, by our processes of thought, can we predict what will happen, and correctly conjecture the constitution of the things around us? This is a problem which every modern philosopher has considered, and of which Descartes, Leibnitz, Kant, to name a few, have given memorable solutions. Plato was the first to suggest it. And as he had the unique position of being the first devisor of the problem, so his solution is the most unique. Later philosophers have talked about consciousness and its laws, sensations, categories. But Plato never used such words. Consciousness apart from a conscious being meant nothing to him. His was always an objective search. He made man’s intuitions the basis of a new kind of natural history.

In a few simple words Plato puts us in an attitude with regard to psychic phenomena—the mind—the ego—“what we are,” which is analogous to the attitude scientific men of the present day have with regard to the phenomena of outward nature. Behind this first apprehension of ours of nature, there is an infinite depth to be learned and known. Plato said that behind the phenomena of mind that Meno’s slave boy exhibited, there was a vast, an infinite perspective. And his singularity, his originality, comes out most strongly marked in this, that the perspective, the complex phenomena beyond were, according to him, phenomena of personal experience. A footprint in the sand means a man to a being that has the conception of a man. But to a creature that has no such conception, it means a curious mark, somehow resulting from the concatenation of ordinary occurrences. Such a being would attempt merely to explain how causes known to him could so coincide as to produce such a result; he would not recognise its significance.

Plato introduced the conception which made a new kind of natural history possible. He said that Meno’s slave boy thought true about things he had never learned, because his “soul” had experience. I know this will sound absurd to some people, and it flies straight in the face of the maxim, that explanation consists in showing how an effect depends on simple causes. But what a mistaken maxim that is! Can any single instance be shown of a simple cause? Take the behaviour of spheres for instance; say those ivory spheres, billiard balls, for example. We can explain their behaviour by supposing they are homogeneous elastic solids. We can give formulæ which will account for their movements in every variety. But are they homogeneous elastic solids? No, certainly not. They are complex in physical and molecular structure, and atoms and ions beyond open an endless vista. Our simple explanation is false, false as it can be. The balls act as if they were homogeneous elastic spheres. There is a statistical simplicity in the resultant of very complex conditions, which makes that artificial conception useful. But its usefulness must not blind us to the fact that it is artificial. If we really look deep into nature, we find a much greater complexity than we at first suspect. And so behind this simple “I,” this myself, is there not a parallel complexity? Plato’s “soul” would be quite acceptable to a large class of thinkers, if by “soul” and the complexity he attributes to it, he meant the product of a long course of evolutionary changes, whereby simple forms of living matter endowed with rudimentary sensation had gradually developed into fully conscious beings.

But Plato does not mean by “soul” a being of such a kind. His soul is a being whose faculties are clogged by its bodily environment, or at least hampered by the difficulty of directing its bodily frame—a being which is essentially higher than the account it gives of itself through its organs. At the same time Plato’s soul is not incorporeal. It is a real being with a real experience. The question of whether Plato had the conception of non-spatial existence has been much discussed. The verdict is, I believe, that even his “ideas” were conceived by him as beings in space, or, as we should say, real. Plato’s attitude is that of Science, inasmuch as he thinks of a world in Space. But, granting this, it cannot be denied that there is a fundamental divergence between Plato’s conception and the evolutionary theory, and also an absolute divergence between his conception and the genetic account of the origin of the human faculties. The functions and capacities of Plato’s “soul” are not derived by the interaction of the body and its environment.

Plato was engaged on a variety of problems, and his religious and ethical thoughts were so keen and fertile that the experimental investigation of his soul appears involved with many other motives. In one passage Plato will combine matter of thought of all kinds and from all sources, overlapping, interrunning. And in no case is he more involved and rich than in this question of the soul. In fact, I wish there were two words, one denoting that being, corporeal and real, but with higher faculties than we manifest in our bodily actions, which is to be taken as the subject of experimental investigation; and the other word denoting “soul” in the sense in which it is made the recipient and the promise of so much that men desire. It is the soul in the former sense that I wish to investigate, and in a limited sphere only. I wish to find out, in continuation of the experiment in the Meno, what the “soul” in us thinks about extension, experimenting on the grounds laid down by Plato. He made, to state the matter briefly, the hypothesis with regard to the thinking power of a being in us, a “soul.” This soul is not accessible to observation by sight or touch, but it can be observed by its functions; it is the object of a new kind of natural history, the materials for constructing which lie in what it is natural to us to think. With Plato “thought” was a very wide-reaching term, but still I would claim in his general plan of procedure a place for the particular question of extension.

The problem comes to be, “What is it natural to us to think about matter qua extended?”

First of all, I find that the ordinary intuition of any simple object is extremely imperfect. Take a block of differently marked cubes, for instance, and become acquainted with them in their positions. You may think you know them quite well, but when you turn them round—rotate the block round a diagonal, for instance—you will find that you have lost track of the individuals in their new positions. You can mentally construct the block in its new position, by a rule, by taking the remembered sequences, but you don’t know it intuitively. By observation of a block of cubes in various positions, and very expeditiously by a use of Space names applied to the cubes in their different presentations, it is possible to get an intuitive knowledge of the block of cubes, which is not disturbed by any displacement. Now, with regard to this intuition, we moderns would say that I had formed it by my tactual visual experiences (aided by hereditary pre-disposition). Plato would say that the soul had been stimulated to recognise an instance of shape which it knew. Plato would consider the operation of learning merely as a stimulus; we as completely accounting for the result. The latter is the more common-sense view. But, on the other hand, it presupposes the generation of experience from physical changes. The world of sentient experience, according to the modern view, is closed and limited; only the physical world is ample and large and of ever-to-be-discovered complexity. Plato’s world of soul, on the other hand, is at least as large and ample as the world of things.

Let us now try a crucial experiment. Can I form an intuition of a four-dimensional object? Such an object is not given in the physical range of my sense contacts. All I can do is to present to myself the sequences of solids, which would mean the presentation to me under my conditions of a four-dimensional object. All I can do is to visualise and tactualise different series of solids which are alternative sets of sectional views of a four-dimensional shape.