Let us go a step further, and suppose that the progress of discovery has made known certain facts lying behind the phenomena in question, to which they may all be referred. Let us suppose, that all bodies which gravitate towards each other are found to be embosomed in a subtile, ambient fluid, which connects them, as it were, into one system; that the positive and negative states of electricity are resolvable into the presence of two fluids standing in certain relations to each other; and that substances show chemical affinity for each other only when they are in opposite electrical conditions. Still, we have only advanced a step in the generalization, and the real, efficient cause of the appearances is still hidden from us by an impenetrable veil. Gravitation is now referred to the communication of motion by impulse; electricity, to the combination and separation of different fluids; affinity, to the attraction or repulsion of these fluids. The latter classes of phenomena are more general, but not a whit more explicable, than the former. We have now fewer causes to seek for, but not one of these few has been discovered. When we have resolved electricity or gravitation into the presence of an elastic medium, it is a mere figure of speech to say, that we have discovered the cause of the electric phenomena or of gravity. That is just as far off as ever; for we have yet to discover the principle whence flow necessarily all the phenomena observable in fluids. It is the sole end and the highest ambition of science to discover as many as possible of the relationships which bind facts together, and thus to carry the generalization to the farthest point. Its office is not to discover causes, but to generalize effects. The investigation of real causes is quite given up, as a hopeless undertaking.
Observe, now, how all the phraseology employed in speaking of these successive generalizations of science is borrowed from the action of mind. The word action itself has no real significance, except when applied to the doings of an intelligent agent; we cannot speak of the doings of matter, as we could if the word action were applicable to it in any other than a figurative sense. Again, in speaking of the similarity of facts and the regularity of sequences, we refer them to a law of nature, just as if they were sentient beings acting under the will of a sovereign. Parts of pure matter—the chemical elements, for instance—do not act at all; being brute and inert, it is only by a strong metaphor that they are said to be subject to law. Again, we attribute force, power, &c., to the primitive particles of matter, and speak of their natural agencies. Just so, we talk of tone in coloring, and of a heavy or light sound; though, of course, in their proper significance, tone belongs only to sound, and heaviness to gravitating bodies. These modes of speech are proper enough, if their figurative character be kept in view; but it is a little too bad, when a whole scientific theory is made to rest upon a metaphor as its sole support. Agency is the employment of one intelligent being to act for another; force and power are applicable only to will; they are characteristic of volition. It is a violent trope to apply either of these words to senseless matter. Chemical affinities are spoken of, as if material elements were united by family ties, and manifested choice, and affection or aversion.
An obvious corollary from these remarks is, that all causation is an exertion of mind, and is only figuratively applied to matter. It necessarily implies power, will, and action. An efficient cause—we are not speaking now of a mere antecedent—is that which is necessarily followed by the effect, so that, if it were known, the effect might be predicted antecedently to all experience. Cicero describes it with philosophical accuracy. "Causa ea est, quæ id efficit, cujus est causa. Non sic causa intelligi debet, ut quod cuique antecedat, id ei causa sit; sed quod cuique EFFICIENTER antecedat. Causis enim efficientibus quamque rem cognitis, posse denique sciri quid futurum esset." Now, in the world of matter, we discover nothing but antecedents and consequents; the former are the mere signs, not the causes, of the latter; no necessary connection—no connection at all, except sequence in time—can be discerned between them. Consequently, from an examination of the former, we could not determine a priori, that they must be followed by the latter, or by any other result whatever. Our knowledge here, if knowledge it can be called, is wholly empirical, or founded on experience. As we have seen, it is absurd to say, that one atom of matter literally acts on another. On the other hand, in the world of mind, we are directly conscious of action, and even of causation. All mental exertion is true action; every determination of the will implies effort, or the direction and use of power. The result to be accomplished is preconsidered, or meditated, and therefore is known a priori, or before experience; the volition succeeds, which is a true effort, or a power in action; and this, if the power be sufficient, is necessarily followed by the effect. Volition is a true cause; but in a finite mind it is not always an adequate cause. If I will to shut my eyes, the effect immediately follows as a necessary consequence. But if I will to stop the beating of my heart, or to move a paralyzed limb, the effect does not follow, because the power exerted is inadequate to the end proposed. The action of the will is still causative, but it is insufficient.
It was from overlooking the distinction here made, that Hume, Kant, and other metaphysicians were led to deny all knowledge of causation even in the action of mind. They confounded sufficiency with efficiency, and supposed, because the power did not always accomplish the end proposed, that it did not tend towards it, or exert any effect upon it. As the sufficiency of the volition can only be known a posteriori, or after experience, they imagined that there could be no cause but that which is infinite, or one which is invariably followed by the whole effect contemplated. They overlooked the fact, that, in the consciousness of effort,—as in the attempt to control the action of mind, to command the attention, &c.,—we have direct and full evidence of power in action, which is necessarily causal in its nature. The mental nisus is true force, exerted with a foreknowledge of the effect to be produced, and necessarily followed by a result,—a partial one it may be,—but one which is a true effect, whether it answers the whole intention, or not. Here, then, we discern that necessary connection between two events, that absolute efficient agency, which was vainly sought in the world of matter.
If these considerations are well founded, the whole framework of what are called "secondary causes" falls to pieces. The laws of nature are only a figure of speech; the powers and active inherent properties of material atoms are mere fictions. Mind alone is active; matter is wholly passive and inert. There is no such thing as what we usually call the course of nature; it is nothing but the will of God producing certain effects in a constant and uniform manner; which mode of action, however, being perfectly arbitrary, is as easy to be altered at any time as to be preserved. All events, all changes, in the external world, from the least even unto the greatest, are attributable to his will and power, which, being infinite, is always and necessarily adequate to the end proposed. The laws of motion, gravitation, affinity, and the like, are only expressions of the regularity and continuity of one infinite cause. The order of nature is the effect of divine wisdom, its stability is the result of divine beneficence.
"Estne Dei sedes nisi terra, et pontus, et aer
, Et cœlum, et virtus? Superos quid quærimus ultra?
Jupiter est quodcunque vides, quocunque moveris."
It may be asked, if divine power, instead of operating immediately throughout the universe, might not have endowed material atoms at the outset with certain properties and energies, the gradual evolution of which in after ages would produce all the phenomena of nature, without the necessity of his incessant presence, agency, and control. Certainly, we may not put bounds to omnipotence; though we may assert of a given hypothesis respecting its exercise, that it is inconceivable, or involves wholly incongruous ideas. The necessary attributes of matter, according to our conception of it, are extension, figure, impenetrability, and inertness; the properties of mind are thought, sensation, activity, and will. These attributes are essential, not arbitrary or contingent; for they make up our whole idea of the substances in which they inhere. We can no more suppose them to be interchangeable, than we can literally attribute dimensions to an odor, or capacity to a sound. To speak of an extended thought, an impenetrable sensation, an inert activity, is to talk nonsense; it is equally absurd to attribute thought to extension, sensation to figure, activity to inertness,[3] or causal agency to matter. True, mind may be superadded to matter, without being confounded with it, and without any exchange of properties. And in fact, this is the only conceivable form of the hypothesis now before us; namely, the theory of the ancient metaphysicians, that every particle of matter and every aggregate of it is accompanied, or animated, by a distinct mind. "Ea quoque [sidera] rectissime et animantia esse, et sentire atque intelligere, dicantur." If this be a more intelligible and plausible supposition than that of one infinite mind, pervading the universe, and producing all physical changes by its irresistible power, the materialist is welcome to the benefit of it.
As respects the manner in which all physical effects are produced by the direct action of the Deity, we are not bound to offer any explanation, as the subject confessedly transcends the limit of the human faculties. It is enough for us, that the supposition is the only conceivable one, the only mode of accounting for the phenomena of the material world. But as man is made in the image of his Creator, in the union for a time of his spirit with his corporeal frame we may find at least an intelligible illustration of the connection of God with the universe. Discarding the word mind, as the fruitful source of vague speculation and error, let us look for a moment at that of which it is a mere synonyme,—at the man himself. The sentient, thinking being, which I call self, is an absolute unit. Duality or complexity cannot be predicated of it in any intelligible sense. Personality is indivisible; I am one. This being is capable of acting in different ways; and for convenience of speech and classification, these modes of action have been arranged as the results of different faculties; though, in truth, it is no more proper to attribute to the person distinct powers and organs for comparison, memory, and judgment, than to give to the body separately a walking faculty, a lifting faculty, a jumping faculty, and so on. In the one case, these faculties are but different aspects of mental power; in the other, but different applications of muscular strength. Of course, the complex material frame, with its numberless adaptations and arrangements, in which this being is lodged, is truly foreign from the man himself, having a kind of connection with him, in reality, but one degree more intimate than that of his clothes. The body is the curiously contrived machine through which the man communicates with the material world. The eye is but his instrument to see with, the ear is his trumpet for communicating sound to him, the leg is his steed, and the arm his soldier. Many of these instruments and parts may be removed, or become unfit for use, without impairing, in the slightest degree, his distinct personality and intelligence. The particles of all of them are in a state of constant flux and renovation, so that man changes his body only a little more frequently than he does his coat. His whole corporeal frame is connected with him but for a while, and is then thrown aside, like an old garment, for which he has no farther use.
But during the period of its existence, how close and intimate in appearance is this union with the body! Sensation extends to every part of it, every fibre is instinct with life, and the direction of the will is absolute and immediate over every muscle and joint, as if the whole fabric and its tenant were one homogeneous system. The will tires not of its supremacy, and is not wearied with the number of volitions required of it to keep every joint in action, and every organ performing its proper function. It would not delegate the control of the fingers to an inferior power, nor contrive mechanical or automatic means for moving the extremities. Within its sphere, it is sole sovereign, and is not perplexed with the variety and constant succession of its duties, extending to every part of the complex structure of which it is the animating and directing spirit. Sensation is not cumbered with the multitude of impressions it receives, nor is the fineness of perception dulled by repeated exercise. The sharpness of its edge rather improves by use, and we become more heedful of its lightest intimations. Is it irreverent, then, to suppose that this union of body and soul shadows forth the connection between the material universe and the Infinite One? How else, indeed, can we attach any meaning to the attributes of omnipresence and omnipotence? The unity of action, the regularity of antecedence and consequence in outward events, which we commonly designate by the lame metaphor of law, then become the fitting expression of the consistent doings of an all-wise Being, in whom there is no variableness, neither shadow of turning. The Creator, then, is no longer banished from his creation, nor is the latter an orphan, or a deserted child. It is not a great machine, that was wound up at the beginning, and has continued to run on ever since, without aid or direction from its artificer. As well might we conceive of the body of a man moving about, and performing all its appropriate functions, without the principle of life, or the indwelling of an immortal soul. The universe is not lifeless or soulless. It is informed by God's spirit, pervaded by his power, moved by his wisdom, directed by his beneficence, controlled by his justice.
"Spiritus intus alit, totamque infusa per artus
Mens agitat molem, et magno se corpore miscet."