“Not at present,” said Mr. Sellum, slyly; and I reckon he didn’t.
XV.
METAPHYSICS.[[12]]
Most people are of opinion that whatever is, is right; but, strange to say, an acquaintance with pen and ink and that sort of thing is very apt to reverse this opinion. No sooner do we begin to study metaphysics, than we find how egregiously we have been mistaken, in supposing that “Master Parson is really Master Parson.”
I, for my part, have a high opinion of metaphysical studies, and think the science a very useful one, because it teaches people what sheer nobodies they are. The only objection is, they are not disposed to lay this truth sufficiently to heart, but continue to give themselves airs, just as if some folks were really some folks.
Old Doctor Sobersides, the minister of Pumpkinville, where I lived in my youth, was one of the metaphysical divines of the old school, and could cavil upon the ninth part of a hair about entities and quiddities, nominalism and realism, free will and necessity, with which sort of learning he used to stuff his sermons and astound his learned hearers, the bumpkins. They never doubted that it was all true, but were apt to say with the old woman in Molière:
“Il parle si bien que je n’entend goutte.”
I remember a conversation that happened at my grandfather’s, in which the Doctor had some difficulty in making his metaphysics all “as clear as preaching.” There was my grandfather; Uncle Tim, who was the greatest hand at raising onions in our part of the country, but “not knowing metaphysics, had no notion of the true reason of his not being sad;” my Aunt Judy Keturah Titterwell, who could knit stockings like all possest, but could not syllogize; Malachi Muggs, our hired man, that drove the oxen, and Isaac Thrasher, the district schoolmaster, who had dropped in to warm his fingers and get a drink of cider. Something was under discussion, and my grandfather could make nothing of it; but the Doctor said it was “metaphysically true.”
“Pray, Doctor,” said Uncle Tim, “tell me something about metaphysics; I have often heard of that science, but never for my life could find out what it was.”
“Metaphysics,” said the Doctor, “is the science of abstractions.”
“I’m no wiser for that explanation,” said Uncle Tim.