[CHAPTER VII.]
Mr. Spencer's agnosticism—His theory of the origin of religious beliefs—The mode in which mankind are to lose the consciousness of a personal God.
In a former chapter I had occasion to advert to one of Mr. Spencer's favorite dogmas, namely, the impossibility of an intellectual conception of creation, which he thinks is made apparent by the statement that one term of the relation, the thing created, is something, and the other term of the relation, that out of which the thing was created, is nothing. When I wrote the chapter in which I commented on this extraordinary kind of logic, I felt a little disposed to apologize to my readers for answering it. I had not then met with the fuller statement of Mr. Spencer's peculiar agnosticism which I am now about to quote. The controversy recently carried on between Mr. Spencer and Mr. Harrison was closed by the former in an article entitled "Last Words about Agnosticism and the Religion of Humanity," which appeared in the "Nineteenth Century" for November, 1884. This drew my attention to a passage in Mr. Spencer's "Essays," which he has reproduced in his late article for the purpose of repeating his position against some of the misrepresentations which he complains had been made of it by Mr. Harrison. I have nothing to do with the controversy between these two gentlemen, or with any of the arguments which Mr. Spencer's opponents, be they churchmen or laymen, have employed against him. I take the passage as he has quoted it from his "Essays," for the purpose of making his agnostic views the subject of a more extended commentary than I had bestowed on them in my previous chapter, in writing which I had before me only a passage contained in his "Biology." There is no occasion, however, for altering a word of what I had previously written; for, on a comparison of his position as given in the "Biology," and that given in the "Essays," it appears very plainly that I had not misunderstood him. But as the passage in the "Essays" displays much more fully the peculiar reasoning by which he supports his agnostic philosophy, I should not do justice to him or to my readers if I did not notice it. The passage is the following:
Always implying terms in relation, thought implies that both terms shall be more or less defined; and as fast as one of them becomes indefinite, the relation also becomes indefinite, and thought becomes indistinct. Take the case of magnitudes. I think of an inch; I think of a foot; and having tolerably definite ideas of the two, I have a tolerably definite idea of the relation between them. I substitute for the foot a mile; and being able to represent a mile much less definitely, I can not so definitely think of the relation between an inch and a mile—can not distinguish it in thought from the relation between an inch and two miles, as clearly as I can distinguish in thought the relation between an inch and one foot from the relation between an inch and two feet. And now, if I endeavor to think of the relation between an inch and the 240,000 miles from here to the moon, or the relation between an inch and the 92,000,000 miles from here to the sun, I find that while these distances, practically inconceivable, have become little more than numbers to which I frame no answering ideas, so too has the relation between an inch and either of them become practically inconceivable. Now this partial failure in the process of forming thought relations, which happens even with finite magnitudes when one of them is immense, passes into complete failure when one of them can not be brought within any limits. The relation itself becomes unrepresentable at the same time that one of its terms becomes unrepresentable. Nevertheless, in this case it is to be observed that the almost blank form of relation preserves a certain qualitative character. It is still distinguishable as belonging to the consciousness of extensions, not to the consciousnesses of forces or durations; and in so far remains a vaguely identifiable relation. But now suppose we ask what happens when one term of the relation has not simply magnitude having no known limits, and duration of which neither beginning nor end is cognizable, but is also an existence not to be defined? In other words, what must happen if one term of the relation is not only quantitatively but also qualitatively unrepresentable? Clearly in this case the relation does not simply cease to be thinkable except as a relation of a certain class, but it lapses completely. When one of the terms becomes wholly unknowable, the law of thought can no longer be conformed to; both because one term can not be present, and because relation itself can not be framed ... In brief, then, to Mr. Martineau's objection I reply that the insoluble difficulties he indicates arise here, as elsewhere, when thought is applied to that which transcends the sphere of thought; and that just as when we try to pass beyond phenomenal manifestations to the Ultimate Reality manifested, we have to symbolize it out of such materials as the phenomenal manifestations give us; so we have simultaneously to symbolize the connection between this Ultimate Reality and its manifestations, as somehow allied to the connections among the phenomenal manifestations themselves. The truth Mr. Martineau's criticism adumbrates is that the law of thought fails where the elements of thought fail; and this is a conclusion quite conformable to the general view I defend. Still holding the validity of my argument against Hamilton and Mansel, that in pursuance of their own principle the Relative is not at all thinkable as such, unless in contradiction to some existence posited, however vaguely, as the other term of a relation, conceived however indefinitely; it is consistent on my part to hold that in this effort which thought inevitably makes to pass beyond its sphere, not only does the product of thought become a dim symbol of a product, but the process of thought becomes a dim symbol of a process; and hence any predicament inferable from the law of thought can not be asserted.[93]
In judging of the soundness of this reasoning, the first thing to be done is to determine what we are thinking about when we compare the finite with the infinite, or when, to put it as Mr. Spencer does, we have two terms of a relation, one of which is a thing open to the observation of our senses, and the other of which lies beyond them. In this case, does all thinkable relation lapse, or fade into an impossible conception, when we undertake to conceive of that which lies beyond what we see? Does the relation between the two supposed terms cease to be a continuously existing relation? Or, to quote Mr. Spencer's words, is it true that "insoluble difficulties arise, because thought is applied to that which is beyond the sphere of thought"?
We must be careful to distinguish between the "insoluble difficulties" which arise out of the imperfection of language adequate to give a formal description of a thing, and which may lead us to suppose ourselves involved in contradictions, and the "insoluble difficulties" which may arise out of the impossibility of having a mental representation of that thing. The latter is the only difficulty about which we need concern ourselves; and the best way to test the supposed difficulty as an insuperable one is to take one of the illustrations used by Mr. Spencer—the idea of space. We measure a foot or a mile of space, and then compare it with the idea of endless or (to us) immeasurable space. Figures afford us the means of expressing in language a certain definite number of miles of space, but, beyond the highest figures of which we have definite forms of expression, we can not go in definite descriptions of space. But when we have exhausted all the expressions of number that our arithmetical forms of expression admit, does it follow that we can not conceive of extension beyond that number? On the contrary, the very measure which we are able to express in figures, to a certain extent, in regard both to space and time, gives us the idea of space and time, and shows us that there must be an extension of both beyond and forever beyond the portion of either which language will allow us definitely to describe. This to us immeasurable and indescribable extent of space or time becomes a thinkable idea, because we are all the while thinking of space or time, whether it is a measurable portion of either, or an immeasurable and endless existence.
Take as another illustration a purely moral idea. We know that there is a moral quality which we call goodness; an attribute of human character of which we have a clear conception, and which we can describe because it is manifested to us in human lives. When we speak of the moral phenomena to which we give the name of goodness, or virtue, all mankind know what is meant. But human virtue is imperfect, limited, measurable. It may be idealized into something approaching to perfection, but the ideal character thus drawn must fall short of perfection if it is made consistent with human nature. But from human character we derive the idea of goodness or virtue as a thinkable idea. Is the idea of absolute perfection of this quality any less thinkable? Absolute perfection of moral character can not be described by a definition; but, as we know that a measurable goodness which we can describe exists, wherein consists the failure or lapse of a thinkable relation, when we reason from that which exists in a measurable degree to that which transcends all degree? We are all the while thinking of goodness or virtue, whether we think of it as limited and imperfect, or as unlimited and perfect. Take another quality—power. We know that there is such a quality as power, wielded by human beings, and guided by their will. But human power is limited, measurable, and therefore finite. When we reason from the finite power of man to the idea of an infinite and immeasurable power held and wielded by another being, do we strive to conceive of something that is unthinkable because we can only say that the power of that other being is without limit? We are all the while thinking of power, of the quality of power, whether we think of it as measurable or immeasurable. All qualities and all faculties which are manifested to us in a limited degree, when we conceive of them as unlimited and without degree, become proofs that what exists in a measurable and limited degree may exist without limitation and without degree. Although we can only define the finite, the infinite is not the less a subject of true thinking, because, whether we think of the finite or the infinite, what we are all the time thinking about is the quality of power, and nothing else. In the one case it is limited, in the other it is unlimited, but it is all the time the quality itself of which we are thinking.[94]
But now let us attend a little more closely to Mr. Spencer's grand objection to this mode of thinking. The reader will be careful to note that what he needs to ascertain is, whether Mr. Spencer's agnostic theory is really sound. To test it, he must inquire just where the supposed difficulty lies. Translated into other language, Mr. Spencer's position is this: In order to keep within the sphere of possible thought, there must be a definite relation between any two ideas, which must not lapse, but the two ideas must be equally capable of mental representation. When one term of the relation is an idea capable of mental representation, as when we think of a thing cognizable by our senses, and the other term of the relation is something that lies beyond them, the law of thought, according to Mr. Spencer, can no longer be conformed to; the relation lapses; the latter term can not be present to the mind; we pass out of the sphere of thought into that which can not be a subject of thought, the unknown and the unknowable. What takes place in this process is assumed to be this: We take certain phenomenal manifestations which we are able to observe and to describe. Out of the materials which these phenomenal manifestations give us, we "symbolize the Ultimate Reality." We do this, by arguing from the phenomenal manifestations which convince us of the existence of a being whom we know and can observe, to the existence of a being in whom we "symbolize" qualities and faculties which the phenomenal manifestations show us to belong to human beings. At the same time we represent to ourselves by the same symbolizing process a connection between the Ultimate Reality and its manifestation, which is allied to the connections among the phenomenal manifestations which we observe in man, or in nature. In other words, we reason from what we see and can measure and describe, to that which we can not see or describe, and we end in a term of the relation which can not be present to the mind, and thus no thinkable relation can be framed.
Whatever may be said of the rational force of the evidence derived from phenomenal manifestations which we can observe when we reason about other phenomenal manifestations which we can not measure, it can not be said that we have reached a term in the relation that is beyond the sphere of thought. What I understand Mr. Spencer to mean when he speaks of "symbolizing" out of the materials which the phenomenal manifestations give us, may be a process liable to error, but it does not involve or lead to the "insoluble difficulties" that are supposed to arise. For example, when, from the existence and power of man, a being whom we know, and whose phenomenal manifestations lead us to a knowledge of his limited faculties, we reason to the existence of a being whose faculties are boundless, we may be in danger of conclusions into which imperfection will find its way; but it certainly is not true that in thinking of unlimited power or goodness, or any other unlimited quality, we transcend the sphere of thought. When we have expressed in figures the greatest measurable idea of space that can be so expressed, what do we "symbolize," when we say that beyond that measured space there stretches a space that we can not measure, and to which there is of necessity no limit? Does a thinkable relation cease to exist, because one of the terms is immeasurable to us? As soon as we have formed an idea of a measurable portion of space, we necessarily have an idea of endless and immeasurable space; and in this deduction we have employed no "symbol" formed out of the materials which the measurable manifestations have given us. We have simply reached a conclusion that is inevitable. We are all the while thinking of space, whether it is definite space that we can measure, or indefinite space that we can not measure.