It will be desirable, in the first place, to distinguish between the several kinds of truths which we endeavour to establish by induction. Although there is a certain common and universal element in all our processes of reasoning, yet diversity arises in their application. Similarity of condition between the events from which we argue, and those to which we argue, must always be the ground of inference; but this similarity may have regard either to time or place, or the simple logical combination of events, or to any conceivable junction of circumstances involving quality, time, and place. Having met with many pieces of substance possessing ductility and a bright yellow colour, and having discovered, by perfect induction, that they all possess a high specific gravity, and a freedom from the corrosive action of acids, we are led to expect that every piece of substance, possessing like ductility and a similar yellow colour, will have an equally high specific gravity, and a like freedom from corrosion by acids. This is a case of the coexistence of qualities; for the character of the specimens examined alters not with time nor place.

In a second class of cases, time will enter as a principal ground of similarity. When we hear a clock pendulum beat time after time, at equal intervals, and with a uniform sound, we confidently expect that the stroke will continue to be repeated uniformly. A comet having appeared several times at nearly equal intervals, we infer that it will probably appear again at the end of another like interval. A man who has returned home evening after evening for many years, and found his house standing, may, on like grounds, expect that it will be standing the next evening, and on many succeeding evenings. Even the continuous existence of an object in an unaltered state, or the finding again of that which we have hidden, is but a matter of inference depending on experience.

A still larger and more complex class of cases involves the relations of space, in addition to those of time and quality. Having observed that every triangle drawn upon the diameter of a circle, with its apex upon the circumference, apparently contains a right angle, we may ascertain that all triangles in similar circumstances will contain right angles. This is a case of pure space reasoning, apart from circumstances of time or quality, and it seems to be governed by different principles of reasoning. I shall endeavour to show, however, that geometrical reasoning differs but in degree from that which applies to other natural relations.

The Relation of Cause and Effect.

In a very large part of the scientific investigations which must be considered, we deal with events which follow from previous events, or with existences which succeed existences. Science, indeed, might arise even were material nature a fixed and changeless whole. Endow mind with the power to travel about, and compare part with part, and it could certainly draw inferences concerning the similarity of forms, the coexistence of qualities, or the preponderance of a particular kind of matter in a changeless world. A solid universe, in at least approximate equilibrium, is not inconceivable, and then the relation of cause and effect would evidently be no more than the relation of before and after. As nature exists, however, it is a progressive existence, ever moving and changing as time, the great independent variable, proceeds. Hence it arises that we must continually compare what is happening now with what happened a moment before, and a moment before that moment, and so on, until we reach indefinite periods of past time. A comet is seen moving in the sky, or its constituent particles illumine the heavens with their tails of fire. We cannot explain the present movements of such a body without supposing its prior existence, with a definite amount of energy and a definite direction of motion; nor can we validly suppose that our task is concluded when we find that it came wandering to our solar system through the unmeasured vastness of surrounding space. Every event must have a cause, and that cause again a cause, until we are lost in the obscurity of the past, and are driven to the belief in one First Cause, by whom the course of nature was determined.

Fallacious Use of the Term Cause.

The words Cause and Causation have given rise to infinite trouble and obscurity, and have in no slight degree retarded the progress of science. From the time of Aristotle, the work of philosophy has been described as the discovery of the causes of things, and Francis Bacon adopted the notion when he said “vere scire esse per causas scire.” Even now it is not uncommonly supposed that the knowledge of causes is something different from other knowledge, and consists, as it were, in getting possession of the keys of nature. A single word may thus act as a spell, and throw the clearest intellect into confusion, as I have often thought that Locke was thrown into confusion when endeavouring to find a meaning for the word power.‍[128] In Mill’s System of Logic the term cause seems to have re-asserted its old noxious power. Not only does Mill treat the Laws of Causation as almost coextensive with science, but he so uses the expression as to imply that when once we pass within the circle of causation we deal with certainties.

The philosophical danger which attaches to the use of this word may be thus described. A cause is defined as the necessary or invariable antecedent of an event, so that when the cause exists the effect will also exist or soon follow. If then we know the cause of an event, we know what will certainly happen; and as it is implied that science, by a proper experimental method, may attain to a knowledge of causes, it follows that experience may give us a certain knowledge of future events. But nothing is more unquestionable than that finite experience can never give us certain knowledge of the future, so that either a cause is not an invariable antecedent, or else we can never gain certain knowledge of causes. The first horn of this dilemma is hardly to be accepted. Doubtless there is in nature some invariably acting mechanism, such that from certain fixed conditions an invariable result always emerges. But we, with our finite minds and short experience, can never penetrate the mystery of those existences which embody the Will of the Creator, and evolve it throughout time. We are in the position of spectators who witness the productions of a complicated machine, but are not allowed to examine its intimate structure. We learn what does happen and what does appear, but if we ask for the reason, the answer would involve an infinite depth of mystery. The simplest bit of matter, or the most trivial incident, such as the stroke of two billiard balls, offers infinitely more to learn than ever the human intellect can fathom. The word cause covers just as much untold meaning as any of the words substance, matter, thought, existence.

Confusion of Two Questions.

The subject is much complicated, too, by the confusion of two distinct questions. An event having happened, we may ask—