This book has been written simply in the interest of Truth. It was because the doctrines of the Hamiltonian School were believed to be dangerous errors, which this process of thought exposes, that it was undertaken.
Logically, and in the final analysis, there can be but two systems of philosophical theology in the world. The one will be Pantheism, or Atheism,—both of which contain the same essential principle, but viewed from different standpoints,—the other will be a pure Theism. In the schools of Brahma and Buddh, or in the schools of Christ, the truth is to be found. And this is so because every teacher is to be held responsible for all which can be logically deduced from his system; and every erroneous result which can be so deduced is decisive of the presence of an error in principle in the foundation; and all schemes of philosophy, by such a trial, are seen to be based on one of these two classes of schools. Just here a quotation from Dr. Laurens Hickok's "Rational Psychology" will be in point:
"Except as we determine the absolute to be personality wholly out of and beyond all the conditions and modes of space and time, we can by no possibility leave nature for the supernatural. The clear-sighted and honest intellect, resting in this conclusion that the conditions of space and time cannot be transcended, will be Atheistic; while the deluded intellect, which has put the false play of the discursive understanding in its abstract speculations for the decisions of an all-embracing reason, and deems itself so fortunate as to have found a deity within the modes of space and time, will be Pantheistic. The Pantheism will be ideal and transcendent, when it reaches its conclusions by a logical process in the abstract law of thought; and it will be material and empiric, when it concludes from the fixed connections of cause and effect in the generalized law of nature; but in neither case is the Pantheism any other than Atheism, for the Deity, circumscribed in the conditions of space and time with nature, is but nature still, and, whether in abstract thought or generalized reality, is no God."
The Hamiltonian system is logically Atheism. Perceiving that the Deity cannot be found in Nature, it denies that he can be known at all. What the mind cannot know at all, it is irrational to believe. If man cannot know that God is, and have a clear sight of his attributes as a rational ground of confidence in what he says, it is the height of blind credulity to believe in him. And more; if man cannot have such knowledge, he has no standard by which to measure teachings, and be sure he has the truth. Under such circumstances, faith is impossible. Faith can only be based on Reason. If there is no Reason, there can be no faith. Hence he who talks about faith, and denies Reason, does not know what faith is. The logician rightfully held that God could not be found in Nature; but he was just as wrong in asserting that man is wholly in Nature and cannot know God, as he was right in the former instance. The acceptance of his one truth, and one error, compels man to be an Atheist; because then he has no faculty by which to know aught of God; and few thorough men will accept blind credulity as the basis of Religion.
The author's sense of obligation to President Hickok cannot be too strongly stated. But for his works, it is believed that this little treatise could never have been written. Indeed, the author looks for but scanty credit on the score of originality, since most of what he has written he has learned, directly or indirectly, from that profound thinker. He has deemed it his chief work, to apply the principles developed by others to the exposure of a great error. And if he shall be judged to have accomplished this, his ambition will have been satisfied.
After the substance of this treatise had been thought out, and while the author was committing it to paper, the essays on "Space and Time," and on "The Philosophy of the Unconditioned," in the numbers of the "North American Review" for July and October, 1864, happened to fall under his notice. Some persons will appreciate the delight and avidity with which he read them; and how grateful it was to an obscure student, almost wholly isolated in the world, to find the views which he had wrought out in his secluded chamber, so ably advocated in the leading review of his country. Not that he had gone as far, or examined the subjects in hand as thoroughly as has been there done. By no means. Rather what results he had attained accord with some of those therein laid down. Of those essays it is not too much to say, that, if they have not exhausted the topics of which they treat, they have settled forever the conclusions to be reached, and leave for other writers only illustration and comment. If the author shall seem to differ from them on a minor question,—that of quantitative infinity,—the difference will, it is believed, be found to be one of the form of expression only. And the difference is maintained from the conviction that no term in science should have more than one signification. It is better to adopt illimitable and indivisible, as the technical epithets of Space, in place of the commonly used terms infinite and absolute.
A metaphysical distinction has been incidentally touched upon in the following discussion, which deserves a more extensive consideration than the scope and plan of this work would permit to it here; and which, so far as the author's limited reading goes, has received very little attention from modern writers on metaphysics. He refers to the distinction between the animal nature and spiritual person, so repeatedly enounced by that profound metaphysical theologian, the apostle Paul, and by that pure spiritual pastor, the apostle John, in the terms "flesh" and "spirit." The thinkers of the world, even the best Christian philosophers, seem to have esteemed this a moral and religious distinction, and no more, when in fact it cleaves down through the whole human being, and forms the first great radical division in any proper analysis of man's soul, and classification of his constituent elements. This is a purely natural division. It is organic in man. It belonged as much to Adam in his purity, as it does to the most degraded wretch on the globe now. It is of such a character that, had it been properly understood and developed, the Hamiltonian system of philosophy could never have been constructed.
An adequate statement of the truth would be conducted as follows. First, the animal nature should be carefully analyzed, its province accurately defined, and both the laws and forms of its activity exactly stated. Second, a like examination of the spiritual person should follow; and third, the relations, interactions, and influences of the two parts upon each other should be, as extensively as possible, presented. But it is to be remarked, that, while the analysis, by the human intellect, of these two great departments of man's soul, may be exhaustive, it is doubtful if any but the All-seeing Eye can read all their relations and inter-communications. The development of the third point, by any one mind, must needs, therefore, be partial. Whether any portion of the above designated labor shall be hereafter entered upon, will depend upon circumstances beyond control of the writer.
As will appear, it is believed, in the development of the subject, the great, the vital point upon which the whole controversy with the Hamiltonian school must turn, is a question of fact; viz., whether man has a Reason, as the faculty giving a priori principles, or not. If he has such a Reason, then by it the questions now at issue can be settled, and that finally. If he has no Reason, then he can have no knowledge, except of appearances and events, as perceived by the Sense and judged by the Understanding. Until, then, the question of fact is decided, it would be a gain if public attention was confined wholly to it. Establish first a well ascertained and sure foundation before erecting a superstructure.
The method adopted in constructing this treatise does not admit the presentation of the matter in a symmetrical form. On the contrary, it involves some, perhaps many, repetitions. What has been said at one point respecting one author must be said again in reply to another. Yet the main object for which the work was undertaken could, it seemed, be thoroughly accomplished in no other way.
The author has in each case used American editions of the works named.
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.
It is not our purpose at this point to enter upon a criticism of the philosophical theory thus enounced. This will fall, in the natural course, upon a subsequent page. We have stated it here, for the purpose of placing in that strong light which it deserves, another topic, which has received altogether too little attention from the opponents of the Limitists. Underlying and involved in the above theory, there is a question of fact, of the utmost importance. Sir William Hamilton's metaphysic rests upon his psychology; and if his psychology is true, his system is impregnable. It is his diagnosis of the human mind, then, which demands our attention. He has presented this in the following passage:—
"While we regard as conclusive Kant's analysis of Time and Space into conditions of thought, we cannot help viewing his deduction of the 'Categories of Understanding' and the 'Ideas of Speculative Reason' as the work of a great but perverse ingenuity. The categories of understanding are merely subordinate forms of the conditioned. Why not, therefore, generalize the Conditioned—Existence Conditioned, as the supreme category, or categories, of thought?—and if it were necessary to analyze this form into its subaltern applications, why not develop these immediately out of the generic principle, instead of preposterously, and by a forced and partial analogy, deducing the laws of the understanding from a questionable division of logical proposition? Why distinguish Reason (Vernunft) from Understanding (Verstand), simply on the ground that the former is conversant about, or rather tends toward, the unconditioned; when it is sufficiently apparent, that the unconditioned is conceived as the negation of the conditioned, and also that the conception of contradictories is one? In the Kantian philosophy, both faculties perform the same function, both seek the one in the many;—the Idea (Idee) is only the Concept (Begriff) sublimated into the inconceivable; Reason only the Understanding which has 'overleaped itself.'"
Not stopping now to correct the entirely erroneous statement that "both faculties," i. e., Understanding and Reason, "perform the same function," we are to notice the two leading points which are made, viz.:—1. That there is no distinction between the Understanding and the Reason; or, in other words, there is no such faculty as the Reason is claimed to be, there is none but the Understanding; and, 2. A generalization is the highest form of human knowledge; both of which may be comprised in one affirmation; the Understanding is the highest faculty of knowledge belonging to the human soul. Upon this, a class of thinkers, following Plato and Kant, take issue with the logician, and assert that the distinction between the two faculties named above, has a substantial basis; that, in fact, they are different in kind, and that the mode of activity in the one is wholly unlike the mode of activity in the other. Thus, then, is the great issue between the Hamiltonian and Platonic schools made upon a question of fact. He who would attack the former school successfully, must aim his blow straight at their fundamental assumption; and he who shall establish the fact of the Pure Reason as an unquestionable faculty in the human soul, will, in such establishment, accomplish the destruction of the Hamiltonian system of philosophy. Believing this system to be thoroughly vicious in its tendencies; being such indeed, as would, if carried out, undermine the whole Christian religion; and what is of equal importance, being false to the facts in man's soul as God's creature, the writer will attempt to achieve the just named and so desirable result; and by the mode heretofore indicated.
It is required, then, to prove that there is a faculty belonging to the human soul, essentially diverse from the Sense or the Understanding; a faculty peculiar and unique, which possesses such qualities as have commonly been ascribed by its advocates to the Pure Reason; and thereby to establish such faculty as a fact, and under that name.
Previous to bringing forward any proofs, it is important to make an exact statement of what is to be proved. To this end, let the following points be noted:—
a. Its modes of activity are essentially diverse from those of the Sense or Understanding. The Sense is only capacity. According to the laws of its construction, it receives impressions from objects, either material, and so in a different place from that which it occupies, or imaginary, and so proceeding from the imaging faculty in itself. But it is only capacity to receive and transmit impressions. The Understanding, though more than this, even faculty, is faculty shut within the limits of the Sense. According to its laws, it takes up the presentations of the Sense, analyzes and classifies them, and deduces conclusions: but it can attain to nothing more than was already in the objects presented. It can construct a system; it cannot develop a science. It can observe a relation it cannot intuit a law. What we seek is capacity, but of another and higher kind from that of the Sense. Sense can have no object except such, at least, as is constructed out of impressions received from without. What we seek does not observe outside phenomena; and can have no object except as inherent within itself. It is faculty moreover, but not faculty walled in by the Sense. It is faculty and capacity in one, which, possessing inherent within itself, as objects, the a priori conditional laws of the Universe, and the a priori conditional ideal forms which these laws, standing together according to their necessary relations, compose, transcends, in its activity and acquisitions, all limitations of a Nature; and attends to objects which belong to the Supernatural, and hence which absoluteness qualifies. We observe, therefore,
b. The objects of its activity are also essentially diverse in kind from those of the Sense and the Understanding. All the objects of the Sense must come primarily or secondarily, from a material Universe; and the discussions and conclusions of the Understanding must refer to such a Universe. The faculty which we seek must have for its objects, laws, or, if the term suit better, first principles, which are reasons why conduct must be one way, and not another; which, in their combinations, compose the forms conditional for all activity; and which, therefore, constitute within us an a priori standard by which to determine the validity of all judgments. To illustrate. Linnæus constructed a system of botanical classification, upon the basis of the number of stamens in a flower. This was satisfactory to the Sense and the Understanding. Later students have, however, discovered that certain organic laws extend as a framework through the whole vegetable kingdom; which, once seen, throw back the Linnæan system into company with the Ptolemaic Astronomy; and upon which laws a science of Botany becomes possible. That faculty which intuits these laws, is called the Pure Reason.
To recapitulate. What we seek is, in its modes and objects of activity, diverse from the Sense and Understanding. It is at once capacity and faculty, having as object first principles, possessing these as an inherent heritage, and able to compare with them as standard all objects of the Sense and judgments of the Understanding; and to decide thereby their validity. These principles, and combinations of principles, are known as Ideas, and, being innate, are denominated innate Ideas. It is their reality which Sir William Hamilton denies, declaring them to be only higher generalizations of the Understanding, and it is the faculty called the Pure Reason, in which they are supposed to inhere, whose actuality is now to be proved.
The effort to do this will be successful if it can be shown that the logician's statement of the facts is partial, and essentially defective; what are the phenomena which cannot be comprehended in his scheme; and, finally, that they can be accounted for on no other ground than that stated.
1. The statement of facts by the Limitists is partial and essentially defective. They start with the assumption that a generalization is the highest form of human knowledge. To appreciate this fully, let us examine the process they thus exalt. A generalization is a process of thought through which one advances from a discursus among facts, to a conclusion, embodying a seemingly general truth, common to all the facts of the class. For instance. The inhabitants of the north temperate zone have long observed it to be a fact, that north winds are cold; and so have arrived at the general conclusion that such winds will lower the temperature. A more extensive experience teaches them, however, that in the south temperate zone, north winds are warm, and their judgment has to be modified accordingly. A yet larger investigation shows that, at one period in geologic history, north winds, even in northern climes, were warm, and that tropical animals flourished in arctic regions; and the judgment is again modified. Now observe this most important fact here brought out. Every judgment may be modified by a larger experience. Apply this to another class of facts. An apple is seen to fall when detached from the parent stem. An arrow, projected into the air, returns again. An invisible force keeps the moon in its orbit. Other like phenomena are observed; and, after patient investigation, it is found to be a fact, that there is a force in the system to which our planet belongs, which acts in a ratio inverse to the square of the distance, and which thus binds it together. But if a generalization is the highest form of knowledge, we can never be sure we are right, for a subsequent experience may teach us the reverse. We know we have not all the facts. We may again find that the north wind is elsewhere, or was once here, warm. Should a being come flying to us from another sphere so distant, that the largest telescope could catch no faintest ray, even, of its shining, and testify to us that there, the force we called gravitation, was inversely as the cube of the distance, we could only accept the testimony, and modify our judgment accordingly. Conclusions of to-day may be errors to-morrow; and we can never know we are right. The Limitists permit us only interminable examinations of interminable changes in phenomena; which afford no higher result than a new basis for new studies.
From this wearisome, Io-like wandering, the soul returns to itself, crying its wailing cry, "Is this true? Is this all?" when suddenly, as if frenzied by the presence of a god, it shouts exultingly "The truth! the truth! I see the eternal truth."
The assumption of the Limitists is not all the truth. Their diagnosis is both defective and false. It is defective, in that they have failed to perceive those qualities of universality and necessity, which most men instinctively accord to certain perceptions of the mind; and false, in that they deny the reality of those qualities, and of the certain perceptions as modified by them, and the actuality of that mental faculty which gives the perceptions, and thus qualified. They state a part of the truth, and deny a part. The whole truth is, the mind both generalizes and intuits.
It is the essential tenet of their whole scheme, that the human mind nowhere, and under no circumstance, makes an affirmation which it unreservedly qualifies as necessary and universal. Their doctrine is, that these affirmations seem to be such, but that a searching examination shows this seeming to be only a bank of fog. For instance. The mind seems to affirm that two and two must make four. "Not so," says the Limitist. "As a fact, we see that two and two do make four, but it may make five, or any other sum. For don't you see? if two and two must make four, then the Infinite must see it so; and if he must see it so, he is thereby conditioned; and what is worse, we know just as much about it as he does." In reply to all such quibbles, it is to be said,—there is no seeming about it! If the mind is not utterly mendacious, it affirms, positively and unreservedly, "Two and two are four, must be four; and to see it so, is conditional for all intellect." Take another illustration. The mind instinctively, often unconsciously, always compulsorily, affirms that the sentiment, In society the rights of the individual can never trench upon the rights of the body politic,—is a necessary, and universally applicable principle; which, however much it may be violated, can never be changed. The whole fabric of society is based upon this. Could a mind think this away, it could not construct a practical system of society upon what would be left,—its negation. But the Limitists step in here, and say, "All this seems so, perhaps, but then the mind is so weak, that it can never be sure. You must modify (correct?) this seeming, by the consideration that, if it is so, then the Infinite must know it so, and the finite and Infinite must know it alike, and the Infinite will be limited and conditioned thereby, which would be impious." Again, the intellect unreservedly asserts, "There is no seeming in the matter. The utterance is true, absolutely and universally true, and every intellect must see it so."
Illustrations like the above might be drawn from every science of which the human mind is cognizant. But more are not needed. Enough has been adduced to establish the fact of those qualities, universality and necessity, as inherent in certain mental affirmations. Having thus pointed out the essential defect of the logician's scheme, it is required to state:
2. What the phenomena are which cannot be comprehended therein.
In general, it may be said that all those perceptions and assertions of the mind, which are instinctive, and which it involuntarily qualifies as universal and necessary, are not, and cannot be comprehended in Sir William Hamilton's scheme. To give an exhaustive presentation of all the a priori laws of the mind, would be beyond the scope of the present undertaking, and would be unnecessary to its success. This will be secured by presenting a classification of them, and sufficient examples under each class. Moreover, to avoid a labor which would not be in place here, we shall attempt no new classification; but shall accept without question, as ample for our purpose, that set forth by one of our purest and every way best thinkers,—Rev. Mark Hopkins, D. D., President of Williams College, Mass.
"The ideas and beliefs which come to us thus, may be divided into, first, mathematical ideas and axioms. These are at the foundation of the abstract sciences, having for their subject, quantity. In the second division are those which pertain to mere being and its relations. Upon these rest all sciences pertaining to actual being and its relations. The third division comprises those which pertain to beauty. These are at the foundation of æsthetical science. In the fourth division are those which pertain to morals and religion. Of these the pervading element is the sense of obligation or duty. Of this the idea necessarily arises in connection with the choice by a rational being of a supreme end, and with the performance of actions supposed to bear upon that."—Moral Science, p. 161.
First.—Mathematical ideas and axioms.
Take, for instance, the multiplication table. Can any one, except a Limitist, be induced to believe that it was originally constructed; that a will put it together, and might take it apart? Seven times seven now make forty-nine. Will any one say that it might have been made to make forty-seven; or that at some future time such may be the case? Or again, take the axiom "Things which are equal to the same thing are equal to one another." Will some one say, that the intellectual beings in the universe might, with equal propriety, have been so constructed as to affirm that, in some instances, things which are equal to the same thing are unequal to one another? Or consider the properties of a triangle. Will our limitist teachers instruct us that these properties are a matter of indifference; that for aught we know, the triangle might have been made to have three right angles? Yet again. Examine the syllogism. Was its law constructed?
Will any one say that perhaps, we don't know but it might have been so made, as to appear to us that the conclusion was Some Z is not X? Or will the Limitists run into that miserable petty subterfuge of an assertion, "All this seems to us as it is, and we cannot see how it could be different; but then, our minds are so feeble, they are confined in such narrow limits, that it would be the height of presumption to assert positively with regard to stronger minds, and those of wider scope? Perhaps they see things differently." Perhaps they do; but if they do, their minds or ours falsify! The question is one of veracity, nothing more. Throughout all the range of mathematics, the positive and unqualified affirmation of the mind is that its intuitions are absolute and universal; that they are a priori laws conditional of all intellect; that of the Deity just as much as that of man. Feebleness and want of scope have nothing to do with mind in its affirmation, "Seven times seven must make forty-nine; and cannot by any possibility of effort make any other product;" and every intellect, if it sees at all, must see it so. And so on through the catalogue. From this, it follows in this instance, that human knowledge is exhaustive, and so is exactly similar, and equal to the Deity's knowledge.
Second. Those ideas and beliefs which pertain to mere being and its relations.
Take, for instance, the axiom, A material body cannot exist in the Universe without standing in some relation to all the other material bodies in that Universe. Either this is absolutely true, or it is not. If it is so true, then every intellectual being to whom it presents itself as object at all, must see it as every other does. One may see more relations than another; but the axiom in its intrinsic nature must be seen alike by all. If it is not absolutely true, then the converse, or any partially contradictory proposition, may be true. For example. A material body may exist in the Universe, and stand in no relation to some of the other material bodies in that Universe. But, few men will hesitate to say, that this is not only utterly unthinkable, but that it could only become thinkable by a denial and destruction of the laws of thought; or, in other words, by the stultification of the mind.
Take another instance, arising from the fact of parentage and offspring, in the sentient beings of the world. A pair, no matter to what class they belong, by the fact of becoming parents, establish a new relation for themselves; and, "after their kind," they are under bonds to their young. And, to a greater or less extent, their young have a claim upon them. As we ascend in the scale of being, the duty imposed is greater, and the claim of the offspring stronger. Whether it be the fierce eagle, or the timid dove, or the chirping sparrow; whether it be the prowling lion, or the distrustful deer, or the cowering hare; or whether it be the races of man who are examined, the relations established by parentage are everywhere recognized. Now, will one say that all this might be changed for aught we know; that, what we call law, is only a judgment of mankind; and so that this relation did not exist at first, but was the product of growth? And will one further say that there is no necessity or universality in this relation; but that the races might, for aught we know, have just as well been established with a parentage which involved no relation at all; that the fabled indifference of the ostrich, intensified a hundredfold, might have been the law of sentient being? Yet such results logically flow from the principles of the Limitists. Precisely the same line of argument might be pursued respecting the laws of human society. But it is not needed here. It is evident now, that what gives validity to judgments is the fact that they accord with an a priori principle in the mind.
Third. The ideas and beliefs which pertain to beauty. A science of beauty has not yet been sufficiently developed to permit of so extensive an illustration of this class as the others. Yet enough is established for our purpose. Let us consider beauty as in proportioned form. It is said that certain Greek mathematicians, subsequently to the Christian era, studied out a mathematical formula for the human body, and constructed a statue according to it; and that both were pronounced at the time perfect. Both statue and formula are now lost. Be the story true, or a legend, there is valid ground for the assertion, that the mind instinctively assumes, in all its criticisms, the axiom, There is a perfect ideal by which as standard, all art must be judged. The very fact that the mind, though acknowledging the imperfection of its own ideal, unconsciously asserts, that somewhere, in some mind, there is an ideal, in which a perfect hand joins a perfect arm, and a perfect foot a perfect leg, and these a perfect trunk; and a perfect neck supports a perfect head, adorned by perfect features, and thus there is a perfect ideal, is decisive that such an ideal exists. And this conclusion is true, because God who made us, and constructed the ground from whence this instinctive affirmation springs, is true.
Take another instance. Few men, who have studied Gothic spires, have failed to observe that the height of some, in proportion to their base, is too great, and that of others, too small. The mind irresistibly affirms, that between these opposite imperfections, there is a golden mean, at which the proportion shall be perfect. When the formula of this proportion shall be studied out, any workman, who is skilled with tools, can construct a perfect spire. The law once discovered and promulgated, becomes common knowledge. Mechanical skill will be all that can differentiate one workman from another. The fact that the law has not been discovered yet, throws no discredit upon the positive affirmation of the mind, that there must be such a law; any more than the fact of Newton's ignorance of the law of gravitation, when he saw the apple fall, discredited his instinctive affirmation, upon seeing that phenomenon, there is a law in accordance with which it fell.
Now how comes the mind instinctively and positively to make these assertions. If they were judgments, the mind would only speak of probabilities; but here, it qualifies the assertion with necessity. Men, however positive in their temperament, do not say, "I know it will rain to-morrow," but only, "In all probability it will." Not so here. Here the mind refuses to express itself doubtfully. Its utterance is the extreme of positiveness. It says must. And if its affirmation is not true, then there is no reason why those works of art which are held in highest esteem, should be adjudged better than the efforts of the tyro, except the whim of the individual, or the arbitrary determination of their admirers.
Fourth. The ideas and beliefs which pertain to morals and religion.
We now enter a sphere of which no understanding could by any possibility ever guess, much less investigate. Here no sense could ever penetrate; there is no object for it to perceive. Here all judgments are impertinent; for in this sphere are only laws, and duties, and obligations. An understanding cannot "conceive" of a moral law, because such a law is inconceivable; and it cannot perceive one, because it has no eye. If it were competent to explain every phenomenon in the other classes, it would be utterly impotent to explain a single phenomenon in this. What is moral obligation? Whence does it arise, or how is it imposed? and who will enforce it, and how will it be enforced? All these, and numerous such other questions, cannot be raised even by the Understanding, much less answered by it. The moral law of the Universe is one which can be learned from no judgment, or combination of judgments. It can be learned only by being seen. The moral law is no conclusion, which may be modified by a subsequent experience. It is an affirmation which is imperative. To illustrate. It is an axiom, that the fact of free moral agency involves the fact of obligation. Man is a free moral agent; and so, under the obligation imposed. At the first, it was optional with the Deity whether he would create man or not. But will any one assert that, having determined to create man such as he is, it was optional with him, whether man should be under the obligation, or not? Can man be a free moral agent, and be free from the duties inherent therein? Does not the mind instinctively and necessarily affirm, that the fact of free moral agency assures the fact of such a relation to God's moral government, that obligation must follow? One cannot hesitate to say, that the formula, A free agent may be released from his obligation to moral law, is absolutely unthinkable.
Again, no judgment can attain to the moral law of the Universe; and yet man knows it. Jesus Christ, when he proclaimed that law in the words "Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy mind and strength, and thy neighbor as thyself," only uttered what no man can, in thought, deny. A man can no more think selfishness as the moral law of the Universe, than he can think two and two to be five. Man not only sees the law, but he feels and acknowledges the obligation, even in his rebellion. In fact there would be no rebellion, no sense of sin, if there were no obligation. Whence comes the authority of the law? No power can give it authority, or enforce obedience. Power can crush a Universe, it cannot change a heart. The law has, and can have authority; it imposes, and can impose obligation; only because it is an a priori law of the Universe, alike binding upon all moral beings, upon God as well as man; and is so seen immediately, and necessarily, by a direct intuition. Man finds this law fundamental to his self; and as well, a necessarily fundamental law of all moral beings. Therefore he acknowledges it. And the very efforts he makes to set up a throne for Passion, over against the throne of Benevolence, is an involuntary acknowledgment of the authority of that law he seeks to rival.