Know the Truth: A Critique on the Hamiltonian Theory of Limitation / Including Some Strictures Upon the Theories of Rev. Henry L. Mansel and Mr. Herbert Spencer

by Jesse Henry Jones

THE SEEKING AND THE FINDING.

In April, 1859, there was republished in Boston, from an English print, a volume entitled "The Limits of Religious Thought Examined," &c., "by Henry Longueville Mansel, B. D."

The high position occupied by the publishers,—a firm of Christian gentlemen, who, through a long career in the publication of books either devoutly religious, or, at least, having a high moral tone, and being marked by deep, earnest thought, have obtained the confidence of the religious community; the recommendations with which its advent was heralded, but most of all the intrinsic importance of the theme announced, and its consonance with many of the currents of mental activity in our midst,—gave the book an immediate and extensive circulation. Its subject lay at the foundation of all religious, and especially of all theological thinking. The author, basing his teaching on certain metaphysical tenets, claimed to have circumscribed the boundary to all positive, and so valid effort of the human intellect in its upward surging towards the Deity, and to have been able to say, "Thus far canst thou come, and no farther, and here must thy proud waves be stayed." And this effort was declaredly made in the interest of religion. It was asserted that from such a ground only, as was therein sought to be established, could infidelity be successfully assailed and destroyed. Moreover, the writer was a learned and able divine in the Anglican Church, orthodox in his views; and his volume was composed of lectures delivered upon what is known as "The Bampton Foundation;"—a bequest of a clergyman, the income of which, under certain rules, he directed should be employed forever, in furthering the cause of Christ, by Divinity Lecture Sermons in Oxford. Such a book, on such a theme, by such a man, and composed under such auspices, would necessarily receive the almost universal attention of religious thinkers, and would mark an era in human thought. Such was the fact in this country. New England, the birthplace and home of American Theology, gave it her most careful and studious examination. And the West alike with the East pored over its pages, and wrought upon its knotty questions. Clergymen especially, and theological students, perused it with the earnestness of those who search for hid treasures. And what was the result? We do not hesitate to say that it was unqualified rejection. The book now takes its place among religious productions, not as a contribution to our positive knowledge, not as a practicable new road, surveyed out through the Unknown Regions of Thought, but rather as possessing only a negative value, as a monument of warning, erected at that point on the roadside where the writer branched off in his explorations, and on which is inscribed, "In this direction the truth cannot be found."

The stir which this book produced, naturally brought prominently to public attention a writer heretofore not extensively read in this country, Sir William Hamilton, upon whose metaphysical teachings the lecturer avowedly based his whole scheme. The doctrines of the metaphysician were subjected to the same scrutinizing analysis, which dissolved the enunciations of the divine; and they, like these, were pronounced "wanting." This decision was not reached or expressed in any extensive and exhaustive criticism of these writers; in which the errors of their principles and the revolting nature of the results they attained, were presented; but it rather was a shoot from the spontaneous and deep-seated conviction, that the whole scheme, of both teacher and pupil, was utterly insufficient to satisfy the craving of man's highest nature. It was rejected because it could not be received.

Something more than a year ago, and while the American theological mind, resting in the above-stated conviction, was absorbed in the tremendous interests connected with the Great Rebellion, a new aspirant for honors appeared upon the stage. A book was published entitled "The Philosophy of Herbert Spencer: First Principles." This was announced as the foundation of a new system of Philosophy, which would command the confidence of the present, and extort the wonder of all succeeding ages. Avowing the same general principles with Mansel and Hamilton, this writer professed to have found a radical defect in their system, which being corrected, rendered that system complete and final; so that, from it as a base, he sets out to construct a new scheme of Universal Science. This man, too, has been read, not so extensively as his predecessors; because when one has seen a geometrical absurdity demonstrated, he does not care, unless from professional motives, to examine and disprove further attempts to bolster up the folly; but still so widely read, as to be generally associated with the other writers above mentioned, and, like them, rejected. Upon being examined, he is found to be a man of less scope and mental muscle than either of his teachers; yet going over the same ground and expressing the same ideas, scarcely in new language even; and it further appears that his discovery is made at the expense of his logic and consistency, and involves an unpardonable contradiction. Previous to the publication of the books just mentioned, an American writer had submitted to the world a system of thought upon the questions of which they treat, which certainly seems worthy of some notice from their authors. Yet it has received none. To introduce him we must retrace our steps for a little.

In 1848, Laurens P. Hickok, then a Professor in Auburn Theological Seminary, published a work entitled "Rational Psychology," in which he professed to establish, by a priori processes, positions which, if true, afford a ground for the answer, at once and forever, of all the difficulties raised by Sir William Hamilton and his school. Being comparatively a new writer, his work attracted only a moiety of the attention it should have done. It was too much like Analytical Geometry and Calculus for the popular mind, or even for any but a few patient thinkers. For them it was marrow and fatness.

Since the followers of Sir William Hamilton, whom we will hereafter term Limitists, have neglected to take the great truths enunciated by the American metaphysician, and apply them to their own system, and so be convinced by their own study of the worthlessness of that system, it becomes their opponents, in the interest of truth, to perform this work in their stead; viz., upon the basis of immutable truth, to unravel each of their well-knit sophistries, to show to the world that it may "know the truth;" and thus to destroy a system which, if allowed undisputed sway, would sap the very foundations of Christian faith.

The philosophical system of the Limitists is built upon a single fundamental proposition, which carries all their deductions with it. He who would strike these effectually, must aim his blow, and give it with all his might, straight at that one object; sure that if he destroys that, the destruction of the whole fabric is involved therein. But, as the Limitists are determined not to confess the dissolution of their scheme, by the simple establishment of principles, which they cannot prove false, and which, if true, involve the absurdity of their own tenets, it is further necessary to go through their writings, and examine them passage by passage, and show the fallacy of each. In the former direction we can but re-utter some of the principles of the great American teacher. In the latter there is room for new effort; and this shall be our especial province.

The proposition upon which the whole scheme of the Limitists is founded, was originally enunciated by Sir William Hamilton, in the following terms. "The Unconditioned is incognizable and inconceivable; its notion being only negative of the conditioned, which last can alone be positively known or conceived." "In our opinion, the mind can conceive, and consequently can know, only the limited and the conditionally limited. The unconditionally unlimited, or the Infinite, the unconditionally limited, or the Absolute, cannot positively be construed to the mind; they can be conceived only by a thinking away from, or abstraction of, those very conditions under which thought itself is realized; consequently, the notion of the Unconditioned is only negative—negative of the conceivable itself. For example, on the one hand we can positively conceive, neither an absolute whole, that is, a whole so great, that we cannot also conceive it as a relative part of a still greater whole; nor an absolute part, that is, a part so small, that we cannot also conceive it as a relative whole, divisible into smaller parts. On the other hand, we cannot positively represent, or realize, or construe to the mind, (as here understanding and imagination coincide,) an infinite whole, for this could only be done by the infinite synthesis in thought of finite wholes, which would itself require an infinite time for its accomplishment; nor, for the same reason, can we follow out in thought an infinite divisibility of parts.... As the conditionally limited (which we may briefly call the conditioned) is thus the only possible object of knowledge, and of positive thought—thought necessarily supposes conditions. To think is to condition; and conditional limitation is the fundamental law of the possibility of thought." ... "The conditioned is the mean between two extremes—two inconditionates, exclusive of each other, neither of which can be conceived as possible, but of which, on the principles of contradiction and excluded middle, one must be admitted as necessary."

This theory may be epitomized as follows:—"The Unconditioned denotes the genus of which the Infinite and Absolute are the species." This genus is inconceivable, is "negative of the conceivable itself." Hence both the species must be so also. Although they are thus incognizable, they may be defined; the one, the Infinite, as "that which is beyond all limits;" the other, the Absolute, as "a whole beyond all conditions:" or, concisely, the one is illimitable immensity, the other, unconditional totality. As defined, these are seen to be "mutually repugnant:" that is, if there is illimitable immensity, there cannot be absolute totality; and the reverse. Within these two all possible being is included; and, because either excludes the other, it can be in only one. Since both are inconceivable we can never know in which the conditioned or conceivable being is. Either would give us a being—God—capable of accounting for the Universe. This fact is assumed to be a sufficient ground for faith; and man may therefore rationally satisfy himself with the study of those matters which are cognizable—the conditioned.