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.