'It is, indeed, too true, that such a work requires, not only several minds, but also the successive experience of several generations. Once, I own, I thought otherwise. Once, when I first caught sight of the whole field of knowledge, and seemed, however dimly, to discern its various parts, and the relation they bore to each other, I was so entranced with its surpassing beauty, that the judgment was beguiled, and I deemed myself able, not only to cover the surface, but also to master the details. Little did I know how the horizon enlarges as well as recedes, and how vainly we grasp at the fleeting forms, which melt away and elude us in the distance. Of all that I had hoped to do, I now find but too surely how small a part I shall accomplish. In those early aspirations, there was much that was fanciful; perhaps there was much that was foolish. Perhaps, too, they contained a moral defect, and savored of an arrogance which belongs to a strength that refuses to recognize its own weakness. Still, even now that they are defeated and brought to nought, I cannot repent having indulged in them, but, on the contrary, I would willingly recall them if I could. For, such hopes belong to that joyous and sanguine period of life, when alone we are really happy; when the emotions are more active than the judgment; when experience has not yet hardened our nature; when the affections are not yet blighted and nipped to the core; and when the bitterness of disappointment not having yet been felt, difficulties are unheeded, obstacles are unseen, ambition is a pleasure instead of a pang, and the blood coursing swiftly through the veins, the pulse beats high, while the heart throbs at the prospect of the future. Those are glorious days; but they go from us, and nothing can compensate their absence. To me, they now seem more like the visions of a disordered fancy than the sober realities of things that were, and are not. It is painful to make this confession; but I owe it to the reader, because I would not have him to suppose that either in this or in the future volumes of my History I shall be able to redeem my pledge, and to perform all that I promised. Something I hope to achieve which will interest the thinkers of this age; and, something, perhaps, on which posterity may build. It will, however, only be a fragment of my original design.'
In estimating the extent to which Mr. Buckle succeeded in consummating the labor which he undertook, we are not, therefore, to measure his results by the standard of the first, but by that of the second volume. It is not, then, the Science of History which he is striving to write; but only something 'which will interest the thinkers of this age, and something, perhaps, on which posterity may build.' His task, as thus abridged, was confined to the endeavor to establish the 'four leading propositions, which, according to my [his] view, are to be deemed the basis of the history of civilization;' that is, the basis of a Science of History. These propositions, given in a previous article, may be here repeated:
'1st. That the progress of mankind depends on the success with which the laws of phenomena are investigated, and on the extent to which a knowledge of those laws is diffused. 2d. That before such investigation can begin, a spirit of scepticism must arise, which, at first aiding the investigation, is afterward aided by it. 3d. That the discoveries thus made, increase the influence of intellectual truths, and diminish, relatively, not absolutely, the influence of moral truths; moral truths being more stationary than intellectual truths, and receiving fewer additions. 4th. That the great enemy of this movement, and therefore the great enemy of civilization, is the protective spirit; by which I mean the notion that society cannot prosper unless the affairs of life are watched over and protected at nearly every turn by the state and the church; the state teaching men what to do, and the church teaching them what they are to believe.'
In the first paper of this series, which was devoted to the examination of the third proposition as announced by Mr. Buckle and substantially affirmed by Professor Draper, together with the consideration of the fundamental Law of Human Progress, the error into which both of these distinguished writers had fallen in regard to the relative influence of moral and intellectual truths, was pointed out; as also the misconception under which they rested concerning the Law of Human Development. This misconception, it was then shown, arose from an incorrect understanding of the essential character of the Law itself, and could be traced, basically, to the same source whence sprang their mistake in reference to the comparative power of moral and mental forces. It is to a misapprehension, analogous to that which brought him into error concerning these two important points, that the radical defect of Mr. Buckle's first and fourth propositions is to be traced, as will be hereafter exhibited.
The complete and exhaustive consideration of the second proposition demands a range of Metaphysical examination which cannot be entered upon at this time. For our present purposes it may be dismissed with the following remarks:
That before men begin the investigation of any subject deliberately, reflectively, and with a fixed and intelligent purpose of ascertaining the truth concerning it, there must arise some feeling of doubt in their minds in relation to the given subject or to some details of it, is certainly true, and needed no array of evidence to prove it; but that prior to such conscious and intentional effort at exploration, there exists an unconscious or automatic action in the mind, an instinctual and passive kind of thinking, a vague floating of ideas into the mental faculties, rather than an apprehension of them by an active and deliberate tension of the intellect, and that it is through this kind of intuitive investigation that the 'spirit of scepticism' primarily arises, is equally true; though not, perhaps, at the first blush, so apparent. In this sense, the statement of Mr. Buckle is simply one half of a truism, the other half of which, not enunciated by him, is equally correct.
Whether the spirit of scepticism—which then undoubtedly aids in the investigation—is afterward aided or fostered by it, depends upon the nature of the question investigated. If this be one which has hitherto been considered as established upon a basis that was in every respect right, and if errors are revealed in the process of the examination, then, indeed, the spirit of scepticism is strengthened. But if, on the contrary, the investigation be in reference to a range of thought which rests upon a basis that is, in all ways, sound—concerning Mathematical truths, for instance—then the sceptical spirit is not aided by it, but is, contrariwise, weakened.
In respect to the field of inquiry covered by the author of 'Civilization in England,' it was seen that numerous statements had been accepted as true in early times, which closer scrutiny at a later period showed to be erroneous. Hence there came to be a want of confidence in the general basis upon which knowledge rested; and, as continued research served to confirm the doubts previously existing, investigation did aid, in this great department of thought, covering indeed the entire history of the past, the spirit of scepticism. As a fact, therefore, in relation to this special sphere of inquiry, Mr. Buckle's statement is correct; as a universal Generalization derived from this Fact, it may or may not be true, according to the subject of examination to which it is applied.
This proposition is, therefore, like that in relation to the moral and intellectual elements—as previously shown—and like all Mr. Buckle's Generalizations—as will be hereafter shown—a half-truth, a correct statement of one side of a verity, good so far as it goes, but essentially false when put for the whole, as in the present instance, or when held so as to exclude the opposite half-truth.
It is this fact, that basic truth is everywhere made up of a union of opposites, each of which seems, at first sight, to exclude the other, which the Historian himself so forcibly expresses when he exclaims: 'In the moral world, as in the physical world, nothing is anomalous; nothing is unnatural; nothing is strange. All is order, symmetry, and law. There are opposites, but there are no contradictions.' Had he understood the full meaning of this statement of the inherently paradoxical nature of truth, and been able to give the Principle which it establishes a universal application in unfolding the various domains of human intelligence and activity, he would have grasped the Knowledge for which he vainly strove, would have discovered the veritable Science of the Sciences, the long-sought Criterion of Truth. In the absence of a right understanding of this complex fact, that fundamental truth has always two sides affirming directly opposite half-truths, he fell into the error of mistaking the moiety for the whole, and has left us a world in which, with all the aid that he has afforded us, we still fail to discern the 'order, symmetry, and law' which undoubtedly pervade all its parts—a world in which there is still exhibited, so far at least as governmental, religious, and social affairs are concerned, an 'anomalous, strange, and unnatural' aspect.