Revival Reformation Classics: Can Change the World Again.

A Critical History of Philosophy.

By Asa Mahan

1883.

PART II.

THE GRECIAN PHILOSOPHY.

INTRODUCTION.

SECTION I.

THE RELATIONS OF THE GREEKS TO THE ORIENTAL NATIONS.

GRECIAN civilization, religion, and Philosophy, as is well known, were all of later growth and development than those of Egypt and other leading Oriental nations. The former, also, though in certain important particulars peculiarized by the genius and institutions of the people, were all, in certain particulars equally important, determined by the latter.

The leading statesmen, literati, and philosophers of Greece, travelled extensively among Oriental nations, studied in their schools, acquainted themselves with their civilization, arts, literature, science, Philosophies, religion, and institutions, and, on their return to their native country, imparted to their countrymen the knowledge with which foreign travel and study had furnished them. Egypt and other Oriental nations were to Greece what Germany has for a long period been to the Anglo-Saxon race. The Anglo-Saxon who would perfect himself in any of the leading sciences very commonly finishes his education in some of the great universities of Germany. Grecian scholars, in like manner, finished their education in the schools of their Oriental neighbours.

The Greek scholar, however, was not, any more than the Anglo-Saxon, a mere copyist. Oriental thought, when subjected to the scrutiny of the Greek mind, took on, in many important respects, new forms and aspects. This was especially true of systems of Philosophy. When a given system passed over from an Oriental nation to Greece, that system most commonly stood connected, in the latter country, with problems unknown to Oriental thought, and disconnected from important elements with which it was originally associated.

In Greece, also, systems of Philosophy appear which have no place whatever in Oriental thought. In the study of the Greek Philosophy we shall meet with old systems connected with new problems and disconnected from certain old associations, and with new systems unknown to Oriental thought. The following facts and statements will present a sufficiently adequate view of the resemblances and differences which obtain between the Grecian and Oriental systems.

CORRESPONDENCES AND Differences BETWEEN THE GRECIAN AND TILE ORIENTAL SYSTEMS.

1. In the Oriental systems, that of Zoroaster excepted, the doctrine of God is either denied, as in the Materialistic, Dualistic, Subjective, and Pure Idealistic systems, or is affirmed but in the strictly Pantheistic sense, as in the Vedanta, Chinese, and Egyptian systems. In the Grecian systems we meet with not only all these forms of doctrine, but also with that of an infinite, perfect, and personal God, a God distinct from nature and exercising a providential and moral government over the universe. The doctrine of one supreme, personal God was, as we shall find hereafter, the popular doctrine of Greece.

2. In the Oriental systems, with the single exception referred to, we have the doctrine of creation in but two forms, that of natural law and by emanation. In the Grecian systems we find, in addition to these two forms of doctrine, that of creation proper, creation 'by the word of God.' This last form of doctrine was, as we shall find, the generally received doctrine of the people, and constituted the fundamental elements of systems taught by such thinkers as Thales, Anaxagoras, Empedocles, Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle.

3. The doctrine of transmigration, which constitutes an essential element of most of the Oriental systems, seldom has place, but in a modified form, among the Greeks. Plato, for example, held the doctrine of the pre-existence of the soul. The latter state, however, he held to be superior to the present, as the future will be. Transmigration, in the Oriental sense; was from human to brute conditions of existence. Plato desired death as the condition of restoration to pre-existing relations to the Infinite, the True, and the Good. The popular theology of Greece affirmed the doctrine of the immortality of the soul in its proper sense.

4. The method of philosophizing which obtained among the Orientals was almost, or quite, exclusively à priori. While this was adopted in many of the schools of Greece, in others the à posteriori, or inductive method, was adopted. In this country, indeed, the only true method was originated.

5. While the moral teachings of the Materialistic and Idealistic schools of Greece perfectly accorded with those of the same schools in Oriental countries, in the proper Theistic schools of Greece, the doctrine of Right and Wrong, Duty, Moral Desert, and Retribution, received a distinctness of recognition and fulness of elucidation totally foreign to Oriental thought, the system of Zoroaster excepted. The moral teachings of such men as Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle, though in many respects imperfect, were preparatory to the introduction of Christianity.

In Greece we have all the Oriental systems fully represented with their special methods of philosophizing, and with their Theistic doctrines and moral teachings fully developed, the doctrine of transmigration and kindred appendages being finally omitted. In Greece, also, we have what we do not find in the product of Oriental thought, the introduction of a new method in Philosophy, a method which, in the sphere of metaphysics especially, thinkers have been slow to appreciate and adopt, a method which, when perfected and carried out to its ultimate deductions, will dissipate the baleful fog in which false science has bewildered the human mind, and lead it out into the clear sunlight of absolute truth.

SECTION II.

THE RELIGION OF THE GREEKS.

To understand the philosophy of any people, we must know their religion. To know their religion, also, we must understand their philosophy. To comprehend fully the genius and character of the people, we must know both their religion and their philosophy. Nor will the religion and philosophy of any people become fully developed and perfected until their religion assumes the form of real science, and their philosophy becomes, both in its spirit and ultimate deductions, really and truly religions. The philosophy of any people will either affirm or deny their religious ideas and principles, and in fundamental particulars their religious ideas and principles will take form from their philosophic teachings and deductions. Hence the importance of a distinct understanding of the religion of the Greeks, as preparatory to an elucidation of their systems of Philosophy.

Grecian Polytheism.

In common apprehension the religion of this people was exclusively idolatrous and polytheistic in its character. That they were idolaters and did 'worship and serve the creature more than the Creator,' and finally, 'that the things which they sacrificed, they sacrificed to devils and not to God,' are not only truths of inspired testimony, but undeniable facts of history. Not one of 'the gods many and lords many,' which were the common objects of popular worship, were, even in the regard of the worshipper, morally pure, or could be worshipped without morally debasing the worshipper. These facts were admitted and deplored by the best thinkers and writers of the nation. Nor were these multitudinous so-called divinities, in the regard of their worshippers, uncreated and eternally existing personalities. On the other hand, they were 'worshipped and served' as created beings, creatures of time, erring and sinful, like, and often more corrupt and morally debased than, their worshippers.

The worship of Venus, for example, was the worship of a surpassingly beautiful, but of an openly acknowledged prostitute. One of the Grecian moralists affirms that if he could approach her, he would thrust her through with his spear on account of her demoralizing influence upon the people.

'Could I but only seize Afrodite' (Venus), says Antisthenes, the friend of Socrates, 'I would pierce her through with a javelin, so many virtuous and excellent women has she seduced among us.'

Any one who will read Professor Tholuck 'On the Nature and Moral Influence of Heathenism' will be fully convinced that what Paul has affirmed in the first chapter of Romans and elsewhere upon the subject is but the shadow of the reality. The historians of the time, Petronius especially, give us such specific facts as the following: 'The temples were frequented, splendid sacrifices were made, altars were crowned, and prayers were offered to the gods in order that the gods might render nights of unnatural lust agreeable! that they might be favourable to acts of poisoning; that they might cause robberies of widows and orphans to prosper.' 'How great is now,' exclaims Seneca, 'the madness of men. They lisp the most abominable prayers in the ears of the gods; and if a man is found listening, they are silent. What a man ought not to hear, they do not blush to rehearse to God.' Yet Roman Polytheism was known to have been far less corrupting than the Grecian.

The Monotheism of Greece.

But were the Greeks simply Polytheists? Did they not, also, believe in one supreme God, the Creator of the universe? The gods of popular worship were, as we have seen, distinctly and definitely regarded as created and finite beings. Did they, also, recognize the being, perfection, creative energy, and supreme control of one eternal and uncreated divinity? The Scriptures affirm of the heathen that 'they know God, but do not glorify Him as God.' We have the most absolute historic proofs of the perfect and unqualified truthfulness of this testimony.

So universal and omnipresent among even the common people of Greece and Rome was the idea of one supreme God, that under sudden and unexpected perils they never prayed to any one, or to all their minor gods, but always to the one only living and true God; and they never turned their faces in prayer toward their idol temples, but always upward toward God Himself. This impressive fact is stated both by Christian and heathen writers. 'The common people,' says Tertullian, 'in the deepest emotions of their minds never direct their exclamations to their false gods, but employ the words, By God! As truly as God lives! God help me! Moreover, they do not thereby have their view directed to the capitol, but to heaven.' Aulus Gellius says, 'The ancient Romans were not accustomed, during an earthquake, to pray to some one of the gods individually, but only to God in the general, as the Unknown.' Lactantius dwells more extensively upon this, and remarks that 'it was in misfortune and danger that they made use particularly of the appellation Deus. After the danger and fear were over,' he adds, 'they then resorted to their temples.'

The concurrence of the learned and the ignorant throughout the Pagan world in the doctrine of one supreme God is thus affirmed by Maximus Tyrius, a celebrated heathen philosopher: 'If there were a meeting called of all the several trades and professions . . . . and all were required to declare their sense concerning God, do you think that the painter would say one thing, the sculptor another, the poet another, the philosopher another? No; nor the Scythian neither, nor the Greek, nor the Hyperborean. In regard to other things we find men speaking discordantly one to another, all men, as it were, differing from all men. . . . . Nevertheless, on this subject you may find universally throughout the world one agreeing law and opinion, that there is one God, the King and Father of All, and many gods the sons of God, and co-reigners together with God.'

The tragic and comic poets of Greece were among the educators of the popular mind in religion, and at the same time most distinctly and specifically represent the popular belief in respect to the subject now under consideration. In their writings the doctrine of one, and only one, supreme, all-perfect, personal God, is most distinctly and absolutely affirmed.

AEschylus, one of the oldest and most influential authors of this class, applies to God such expressions as the following, expressions which, as Dr. Cocker well observes, 'approach very nearly to the Christian idea of God,' to wit, ' He is the Universal Father,' 'Father of gods and men,' 'the Universal Cause,' 'the All-seer and All-doer,' 'the All-wise and Allcontrolling,' 'the Just and the Executor of Justice,' ' true and incapable of falsehood,' 'holy,' 'merciful,' 'the God especially of the suppliant and the stranger,' 'the Most High,' 'Perfect One,' 'King of kings, of the happy most happy, of the perfect most perfect for ever, blessed Zeus.'

Sophocles, the most celebrated of all the tragic poets, thus sets forth the doctrine of but one supreme God: 'There is, in truth, one only God, who made heaven and earth, the sea, air, and winds.' Other stanzas from the same author are thus rendered by one of our own poets:

'Still in yon starry heaven supreme,

Jove, all-beholding, all-directing, dwells,

Spurning the power of age, enthroned in might,

Thou dwellest mid heaven's broad light;

This was, in ages past, Thy firm decree,

Is now and shall for ever be.'

Philemon, the comedian, thus speaks: 'Believe in one God and revere Him.' 'Revere Him continually as being and as being nigh thee.' Two Greek poets have given utterance to the doctrine cited by Paul, 'We are all His offspring.' The stanza from Aratus of Cilicia, Paul's native city, is thus rendered, a stanza especially noticeable as expressing both the omnipresence and all-presiding providence and agency of God:

'Jove's presence fills all space, upholds this ball,

All need His aid; His power sustains us all,

For we His offspring are.'

Cleanthus, who was both a poet and philosopher, thus speaks:

'Great and divine Father, whose names are many,

But who art one and the same unchangeable, almighty power,

O thou supreme Author of Nature!

That governest by a single, unerring law!

Hail, King !

For Thou art able to enforce obedience from all frail mortals,

Because we are all Thine offspring,

The image and the echo only of Thine eternal voice.'

The same doctrine we find avowed by the most eminent authors and philosophers of Greece. Longinus, for example, cites, not only as an example of the sublime, but with expressions of especial admiration, the first verse of the first chapter of Genesis, 'In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.'

Zenophon not only avows a belief in this doctrine, but defends at great length, and with much ability, the views of Socrates upon the same subject. In a letter to AEschines he says, 'For that divine things lie beyond our knowledge is clear to all; it is enough, therefore, to revere the power of God, which is above all things.'

Plutarch, in the following passage, not only avows his own, and the common belief among all nations, in the doctrine of one supreme God, but also the distinction between this supreme God and subordinate divinities. 'We do not believe that there are different gods among different nations of men, the Grecian and the foreign, the southern and the northern, but as the same sun and moon and heaven and earth and sea are common to all men, though differently denominated by different nations, so in diverse countries there are different kinds of worship and different appellations fixed by the laws, while one Intelligence orders all, and one providence orders all, and subordinate powers are appointed over all.'

The leading Greek philosophers, while they admitted a plurality of inferior so-called gods, unitedly affirmed the doctrine of one, supreme, uncreated, all-perfect, and all-controlling, personal God. We refer, of course, to such individuals as Thales, the Father of Greek Philosophy, Xenophanes, Anaxagoras, Empedocles, Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle.

'God,' says Thales, 'is the oldest of all things, because He is unmade and ungenerated.' 'There is one God,' says Xenophanes, 'the greatest among gods and men.' 'All things that are upon the earth,' says Empedocles, 'may be truly called the works of God, who ruleth over the world, out of whom proceed all things, plants, men, beasts, and gods.' This supreme God, he tells us, 'is wholly and perfectly mind, ineffable, holy, with rapid, swift glancing thought pervading the whole world.'

'He who raised the whole universe,' says Socrates, 'and still upholds the mighty frame, Who perfected every part of it in beauty, and in goodness, suffering none of those parts to decay through age, but renewing them daily with unfailing vigour—even He, the Supreme God, still holds Himself invisible, and it is only in His works that we are capable of admiring Him.'

The following quotation from the work of Dr. Cocker on 'Christianity and the Greek Philosophy ' presents all that need be said in this connection, in regard to the views of Plato, on this subject:

It were needless to attempt the proof that Plato believed in one Supreme God, and only one. This one being is with him "the first God;" "the greatest of the gods;" "the God over all;" "the sole principle of the universe." He is "the immutable," "the All-perfect," "the eternal Being." He is "the Architect of the world;" "the Maker of the universe;" "the Father of gods and men;" "the sovereign Mind which orders all things, and passes through all things;" "the sole Monarch and Ruler of the world."'

In the following passage Aristotle not only, as he does most absolutely elsewhere, avows his belief in one Supreme God, but also the great fact which we have so strongly maintained elsewhere, that the then-existing Polytheism was a corruption of the ancient Monotheism. 'The tradition has come down to us,' he says, 'from very ancient times, being left in a mythical garb to succeeding generations, that these' (the heavenly bodies) 'are gods, and that the Divinity encompasses the whole of nature. There have been made, however, to these certain fabulous additions for the purpose of winning the belief of the multitude, and thus securing their obedience to their vows, and their co-operation towards advancing the general welfare of the state. These additions have been to the effect that these gods were of the same form as men, and even that some of them were in appearance similar to certain others amongst the rest of the animal creation. The wise course, however, would be for the philosopher to disengage from these traditions the false element, and to embrace that which is true; and the truth lies in that portion of this ancient doctrine which regards the first and deepest grounds of all existence to be the Divine, and this we may regard as a divine utterance.

'In all probability every art, science, and philosophy has been over and over again discussed to the farthest extent possible, and then again lost; and we may conceive these opinions to have been preserved to us as a sort of fragment of these lost philosophies. We see, then, to some extent, the relation of the popular belief to these ancient opinions.'

The specific denials of this one doctrine, that of one, and only one, Supreme God, the denials which appear in all forms of the Atheistic and Sceptical systems of the Greek Philosophy, clearly evince the existence of that doctrine as an essential element of the popular faith among this people. Philosophers—we repeat what we have formerly stated—are not accustomed to deny what is not generally believed. Thus Protagoras, of Abdera, was, for his avowed Scepticism, banished from the city, and his books burned in a public assembly of the people.

We should here remark that the Supreme God of the popular faith of the Greeks was no impersonal essence like the God of Pantheism, but a free, self-conscious personality, the Creator proper of a created universe. Such was, also, the character of God as affirmed in the theistic and denied in the anti-theistic philosophies of that people. In one form the Greeks, with the Roman and surrounding nations, were idolaters and Polytheists. As far as the doctrine of one, and only one, supreme, eternally existing, all-creating, and all-controlling, personal God is concerned, they were, in the strictest sense, Monotheists. This great fact will be a central light in all our future inquiries and deductions.

SECTION III.

NATURE, CHARACTER, AND MUTUAL RELATIONS OF KNOWLEDGE À priori AND À posteriori. THESE FORMS OF KNOWLEDGE DISTINGUISHED AND DEFINED.

ALL philosophers of all schools of the present era of science, with very few exceptions, agree, that actual knowledge in these two forms does exist in the human mind. An agreement equally universal also obtains in respect to the general and distinguishing characteristics of these two kinds of knowledge. Whatever form of knowledge has the fixed characteristics of absolute universality and necessity takes rank as knowledge à priori. Forms of real knowledge, on the other hand, which want these characteristics, are denominated knowledge à posteriori.

Ideas whose objects are apprehended as real, with the absolute impossibility of conceiving them as not being real, or as being, in any respects, different from what we apprehend them to be, we call necessary ideas, and our knowledge of such objects is denominated knowledge à priori. Ideas, on the other hand, whose objects are known to be real, with the possibility of conceiving of their non-reality, or of their being different from what we apprehend them to be, are denominated contingent ideas, and the knowledge we have of such objects is denominated knowledge à posteriori.

Time and space, for example, are apprehended as real, with the absolute impossibility of conceiving them not to be realities, or as being, in any respect, different from what we apprehend them to be, We accordingly designate our ideas of these realities as necessary ideas, and affirm said realities to be the objects of à priori knowledge. Matter and spirit, on the other hand, we know to be realities in themselves; while we thus know them, we can conceive of their non-reality, or as being different realities from what we apprehend them to be. We therefore designate our ideas of these realities as contingent ideas, and regard said realities as the objects of knowledge à posteriori.

The same distinction obtains in regard to judgments. Those judgments which we know to be universally true, with the absolute impossibility of conceiving them as not being true, we denominate necessary judgments, or judgments à priori. Those judgments, on the other hand, which we know to be true, with the possibility of conceiving of them as not being true, are denominated contingent judgments, or judgments à posteriori.

Such judgments as the following, Body implies space, Succession implies time, Events imply a cause, Phenomena imply substance, and Things equal to the same thing are equal to one another, are necessary, or à priori judgments. The reason is obvious. We not only know such propositions to be true, but know equally that they must be true, their non-truth being absolutely inconceivable, and, consequently, impossible. Such propositions, on the other hand, as Mind exists, Body exists, are known with absolute certainty to be true. Yet we can conceive that they may not be true. Such judgments, therefore, we denominate contingent judgments, or judgments à posteriori. The judgment Things equal to the same things are not equal to one another, for example, is false not only in fact, but self-contradictory, and therefore absurd. The judgment Mind does not exist is false in fact, though not self-evidently so. It is an untrue, but not an absurd proposition.

A fundamental distinction between necessary ideas here demands special attention. Those of time and space have absolute, or unconditional necessity. Their objects must exist whether any other realities do, or do not, exist. The ideas represented by such terms as substance and cause are only conditionally necessary. In other words, events and phenomena being given as real, substances and causes must exist. If, on the other hand, phenomena and events are not given as real, substances and causes cannot be affirmed to exist. The ideas of substance and cause are, therefore, not regarded as unconditionally, but conditionally, necessary. We have, then, two, and only two unconditionally necessary ideas, to wit, those of time and space. Such ideas as those of substance, cause, and personal identity, are, in all their forms, conditionally necessary ideas. Thus far we have gone over ground, for the most part, occupied in the general Introduction. Nor will the validity of the above expositions and elucidations be questioned by real thinkers of any school. The relations really existing between knowledge à priori and à posteriori have not yet been satisfactorily determined in any known school of Philosophy. Those relations must be fully determined, or we shall advance without clear insight in our future inquiries. What, then, are the fixed and immutable relations between the two forms of knowledge under consideration, to wit, knowledge à priori and à posteriori? They are among others the following:

Relations between Knowledge à priori and à posteriori.

1. As far as certainty is concerned, there is no real difference. Real knowledge, throughout its appropriate sphere, admits of no degrees as far as the element of certainty is concerned. I know myself, for example, as a personal being, exercising the functions of thought, feeling, and willing, just as certainly as I know time or space. Our knowledge of facts may be, and often is, just as real and certain as that of the necessary principles by which said facts are explained and elucidated.

Knowledge à priori and à posteriori, in all their real forms, differ as far as our modes of apprehension are concerned, but not in respect to the element of certainty. Apprehensions which have the elements of uncertainty in them are not forms of real knowledge. Our knowledge of the essential qualities of spirit, on the one hand, and of matter, on the other, is, in fact, just as real and certain, as is that of space and time. Great injury is done to the cause of truth when it is admitted that the characteristic of uncertainty inheres in our apprehensions of the essential qualities of these substances. It should be borne in mind, that all who impeach the validity of our knowledge of these substances do the same in respect to our knowledge of the objects of necessary ideas and principles. Those who affirm mere relativity of our knowledge of matter and spirit affirm the same thing of our knowledge of space and time, and of all necessary principles. There is no stopping short of the deduction, that knowledge, in all, or in none, of its real forms, has the element of uncertainty in it.

2. Knowledge à priori, in all its forms, is specifically given in the universal intelligence as directly and immediately implied by knowledge à posteriori. Hence, the principles and axioms: Body implies space, Succession implies time, Events imply a cause, and Phenomena imply substance. In all such judgments the subject represents the perceived or à posteriori element, and the predicate, the implied or à priori element.

We have here, as a careful analysis will absolutely evince, the fixed and immutable relations between these two forms of knowledge. The latter is always given through, and as implied by, the former. If we had no ideas of body and succession, we could have no apprehensions of space or time which are given in the universal intelligence only as the real or possible places of substances and succession. If we had no ideas of phenomena or events, we could have none of substances or causes. We know space, time, substance, and cause, but as implied by body, succession, phenomena, and events, and as the necessary condition of their existence and occurrence. If we had no ideas of events occurring in fixed order, we should have none of law. If we had no apprehensions of agents possessed of certain powers, and existing in certain relations to each other, we could have none of moral law, duty, desert, and retribution. Everywhere when the à priori form of knowledge appears, it is always manifested as implied by definite forms of à posteriori knowledge. In the latter we have the elements of perceived, and in the former that of implied knowledge. Unless the perceived or à posteriori elements were given, the implied or à priori elements could not be given. If no phenomena or events should appear, how could we know that substances or causes do exist? The same holds true universally. Without the perceived or à posteriori element, we could not have the implied or à priori element, and the latter is always given through, and in no other form but as implied by, the former.

3. In the order of actual development in the Intelligence, the à posteriori always precedes the à priori form of knowledge. In other words, body, succession, phenomena, and events must have been perceived before there could have been any apprehension of space, time, substance, and cause. This is absolutely evinced by the fact that the latter are, and can be, apprehended but as sustaining fixed relations to the former. If the à priori form of knowledge was developed in the mind prior to the à posteriori, the former could be apprehended without reference to the latter. But this is impossible. We cannot define space and time but as the places of body and succession, or substance and cause but as realities of which phenomena are properties and by which events are produced. We can, on the other hand, define body, succession, phenomena, and events without reference to space, time, substance, or cause. Nothing can be more evident than the fact that in the order of actual origination, the à posteriori forms of knowledge always precede the à priori and occasion and imply the latter. There can be no more fundamental mistake in psychology than is made by the assumption that the à priori form of knowledge does, in any case, precede the à posteriori.

4. While, in the order of actual origination in the Intelligence, the à posteriori always precedes the à priori elements of knowledge, in the logical order, the latter, as universally, precedes the former. In other words, if space, time, substance, and cause did not exist, there could by no possibility be any such realities as body, succession, phenomena, or events. The reality of the object of the à priori is always given as the necessary condition of the possibility of the reality of the object of the à posteriori form of knowledge. Science is greatly indebted to Cousin for having developed and evinced the logical and chronological order of these two forms of knowledge.

5. A careful and correct analysis of the elements which constitute these two forms of knowledge will, as already indicated, absolutely evince the fact that the elements of the à posteriori are all given by perception external or internal, or by both combined; while those of the à priori are implied by, and given through, what is perceived. We perceive body, succession, phenomena, and events. On occasion of such perceptions and through the same, we apprehend space, time, substance, and cause, as implied by what we perceive.

Necessary Deductions from the Preceding Analysis.

We now advance to a consideration of certain necessary deductions from the preceding analysis. Among those which might be adduced, special attention is requested to the following:

1. All the original elements of knowledge à posteriori are given, as we have seen, through perception external and internal. This fact implies two faculties of perception, that which perceives internal or subjective, and that which perceives external or objective phenomena. The former we denominate Consciousness, or more properly, perhaps, Self-consciousness. The latter we denominate Sense. The faculty of implied or à priori knowledge, we designate by the term Reason. Consciousness, Sense, and Reason are the primary faculties of the Intelligence, and furnish the original elements of universal knowledge in all its forms. The secondary faculties—the understanding or conceptive faculty, the judgment or logical faculty, the memory or associating principle, and the imagination or blending faculty—all do and must operate exclusively upon materials furnished by these three primary faculties.

2. The spheres and exclusive functions of these primary faculties are also, by the preceding analysis, perfectly fixed and determinable. The exclusive sphere of Self-consciousness is to give the mind itself in the actual exercise of its faculties. That of Sense is to give matter through its manifested properties. That of Reason is to give the realities implied by what is perceived through Sense and Consciousness, realities such as space, time, substance, and cause. Each faculty has absolute authority within its own sphere. Reason can merely give what is implied by objects perceived, and has no authority whatever in determining the validity or non-validity of perception. Nor has one perceptive faculty any authority in determining the validity of the dicta of the other. What, for example, has Sense to do in the determination of the reality or non-reality of facts of mind, or of the validity or non-validity of our knowledge of the same? Consciousness, also, can do no more than give the actual form of external perception, the fact that it is direct or indirect. With the validity of the perception, Consciousness has nothing to do.

How can the secondary faculties judge of the validity or non-validity of the affirmations of any or all of the primary ones? There can be no more absurd procedure in science than that in which an attempt is made to force one faculty into the proper and exclusive sphere of another, that the former may sit in judgment upon the validity of the determinations of the latter.

By some philosophers, Reason, the simple faculty of implied knowledge, has been actually deified as 'God in us.' Hence, all the other faculties have been arrayed at the bar of this divinity, and having been 'weighed in the balances ' there, have, of course, 'been found wanting.' All our world-knowledge and necessary ideas have been found to be nothing but 'unavoidable illusion which inheres in Reason itself.'

Hence, this same Reason has been compelled, through its direct and immediate à priori insight, to determine what realities do, or do not, exist.

From the multitudinous self-contradictory and absurd responses, which have been wrung from her under such crucifixions, she could justly be convicted of intellectual aberration. At one time she has been made to affirm absolutely the existence of two unknown and unknowable 'noumena' as the exclusive principles of all things; at another that matter alone exists; then that 'the I myself I' only has being; again, that the Infinite and Absolute is the sole principle of all things; and, finally, that no substances of any kind exist, that thought only is real, and that time and space are nothing but special forms of thought. All these responses are given forth as veritable revelations of absolute truth. Nothing is, or can be, more utterly absurd and lawless than Reason, or any other faculty, when forced out of its proper sphere and compelled to act there. When we refuse, in the construction of our world-systems, to accept as veritable truths of science all the real elements furnished by all the faculties of original intuition, and with absolute integrity, to incorporate into our building the materials thus furnished, and as furnished, we shall, and must, lawlessly construct nothing but logical fictions which scientific scrutiny will not fail to break to pieces.

3. We are now fully prepared to designate all the forms of real knowledge which can have being and place in the human mind. All must consist of what is perceived, of what is implied by what is perceived, and finally of what is combined and logically deduced from what is perceived, and from what is implied by the perceived. Here, undeniably, is the exclusive sphere, the extent and limits, of true science. If any of the original intuitions, whether empirical or à priori, are omitted, or any elements introduced not given by such intuition, we shall, with inevitable certainty, rear up structures of false science.

4. We have now an infallible criterion by which we can, with absolute certainty, discriminate between real and unreal forms of affirmed à priori knowledge. The objects of à priori knowledge in all its forms lie wholly out of, and beyond, the sphere of perception and of knowledge à posteriori. An object, or reality, is affirmed to exist, a reality affirmed to be the object of knowledge à priori. If a valid knowledge in this form of that object does exist, we shall be able to designate some object of actual perception, an object the existence of which necessarily implies the existence of the reality referred to. If no such perceived object can be designated, we may know with absolute certainty that the form of affirmed à priori knowledge before us is an illusion.

À priori knowledge, when its validity is not necessarily implied by some known form of knowledge à posteriori, does not and cannot exist. An individual affirms the existence in time and space of a certain reality which is not an object of perception external or internal, and affirms that reality to be the object of à priori knowledge. If he can designate no object of perception whose existence necessarily implies that of the reality affirmed to exist, we may affirm with absolute assurance that a fiction of a bewildered brain is obtruded upon us as a necessary truth of science.

If, on the other hand, this individual does designate a known form of à posteriori knowledge, a form the validity of which necessarily implies that of the form of à priori knowledge presented, we violate all the principles of true science if we do not admit the existence of the reality under consideration. Any form of affirmed à priori knowledge, the validity of which is not implied by some known form of real knowledge à posteriori, is undeniably an illusion. The criterion under consideration has equal validity in determining the claims of all forms of judgment affirmed to possess à priori certainty. In all such judgments the reality of the object represented by the subject of such judgment implies of necessity that of the object represented by the predicate of the same judgment. In such judgments, for example, as Body implies space, Succession, time, and Events, a cause, the existence of the object represented by the subject, in every instance, implies absolutely that of the object represented by the predicate. Such judgments have à priori certainty, and may be rightfully employed as principles of science. But whenever such relations between the subject and predicate do not obtain, and yet the judgments presented are set forth as having à priori, or self-evident certainty, we may know absolutely that mere lawless assumptions are being imposed upon us as principles or axioms in science. An individual, for example, lays down the proposition, as a principle in science, that but one substance or principle of all things does exist. We ask him to verify his proposition by proof. He not only refuses compliance with our request, but denies our right to demand proof, claiming for his judgment self-evident, or à priori, validity. Where is the ground for such a claim? Where is the necessary connection between the subject and predicate in such judgment? If an individual should affirm that two or three such substances do exist, he would, undeniably, have just as clear a right to claim for his proposition à priori certainty, as the individual before us has for his. Philosophers should be held to the strictest account when they require our assent to judgments, or propositions, which they urge upon us as self-evident, or à priori, principles of science.

5. We are also furnished, in the above discriminations and expositions, with an absolutely valid criterion by which we can discriminate, with perfect certainty, between all forms of valid and invalid claims of à priori insight. An individual claims, for example, that in the presence of all perceived substances, he is able, by Reason, to apprehend the realities, not directly perceived, but necessarily implied by what is perceived. On the actual perception of body, succession, phenomena, and events, for example, he does apprehend, as real, space, time, substances, and causes, and affirms himself to be actually possessed of such a power of à priori insight. We should give the lie to all the fundamental facts of our own Consciousness, if we should deny to this individual the actual possession of à priori insight in the form claimed. An individual, on the other hand, affirms, that having 'put himself into a state of not-knowing,' after having 'assumed all existing forms of knowledge to be uncertain,' and ignoring wholly all facts and objects of external and internal perception, he can, through à priori insight, look off into infinite space and duration, and determine, with absolute certainty, what reality or realities do, and do not exist, and then what are their relations, and from the elements of knowledge thus obtained, that he can construct a valid system of universal being and its laws. We should dementate ourselves, if we should give the remotest credit to the affirmed fact, or validity of such insight. The individual who claims to know through such insight what realities do and do not exist in infinite space and time does, in fact, claim the possession of absolute omniscience. None but absolute omniscience can determine, by such insight, what are their relations and laws.

We, as human beings, have our fixed conditions, and privileges of knowledge, and these, when rigidly adhered to, and rightly used, are abundantly adequate to all needful purposes of science and of life. When perverted and disregarded, 'the light that is in us becomes darkness,' and the Intelligence itself, under will-compulsion, lands us in the abyss of error. Each faculty of the Intelligence has a fixed and readily determinable sphere of activity. We can, if we will, determine the number of these faculties, the peculiar and special sphere of each, its authority within its own sphere, and the mutual relations and dependence of these faculties one in respect to each and all of the others. When scientific inquiry is conducted according to the fixed laws of the Intelligence, when each faculty, with the facts which it really furnishes, is duly respected, and no one faculty is forced out of its own proper sphere, our whole line of induction and deduction will be under the eternal sunlight of truth. But if we adopt assumptions instead of valid principles, and adduce 'imaginary substrata' instead of facts of real intuition, our inquiries will conduct us into the midnight of error.

6. We are also prepared, in view of our previous expositions, to determine fully, and with perfect certainty, the nature and spheres and mutual relations to each other of the à priori, or pure, and of the à posteriori, or mixed, sciences. The distinction under consideration lies here. All the real sciences are wholly constituted of principles and facts, and deductions from said principles and facts. In the à priori, or pure sciences, all the principles (axioms and postulates) and facts are furnished exclusively through à priori insight. In the à posteriori, or mixed sciences, the principles are à priori, or self-evident judgments, while the facts are objects of perception, that is, of knowledge à posteriori. In the former class of sciences, not only the principles, but equally the facts, are the objects of necessary knowledge. In other words, the principles and facts will, all alike, be given with the absolute knowledge, that they must be as we apprehend them to be. This we all know to be true of the principles in all such sciences, principles such as these, Things equal to the same thing are equal to one another, and The whole is greater than any one of its parts. In all such judgments, the subject implies the predicate. The same holds equally of the facts in such sciences. Said facts are given by definition, which has in all cases à priori, or necessary, validity. Space implies the existence in itself of points and figures, such as straight lines, triangles, squares, circles, and ellipses. In the elucidation of the nature, properties, and relations of such points and figures, we have the science of numbers and quantity, as the mathematics. In these sciences, the principles, definitions, facts, and deductions, all in common, have à priori, or necessary validity. They are given as valid with the utter impossibility of conceiving of their invalidity. In the à posteriori, or mixed sciences, the principles, all in common, have à priori, or necessary validity, while the facts, we repeat, are the objects of knowledge à posteriori, objects known to be real, but with the possibility of our conceiving of their non-reality. The pure, or à priori sciences, pertain to number and quantity which exist as properties of space and time themselves. The à posteriori, or mixed sciences, pertain to phenomena, and events, and substances, and causes, existing in time and space. Nothing can be more clear and distinct, than what obtains relatively to the spheres and nature of these two classes of sciences.

ALL QUESTIONS PERTAINING TO ONTOLOGY BELONG EXCLUSIVELY TO THE À posteriori, OR MIXED SCIENCES.

We can now determine with demonstrative certainty to what sphere, that of the à posteriori, or à priori, sciences, all questions of Ontology, of Being, its laws and relations, and of substances and causes, proximate and ultimate, exclusively belong. They pertain, we answer, wholly and exclusively, not to the à priori, or pure, but to the à posteriori, or mixed sciences. The reason is most obvious. Whatever is given as existing in time and space is, in fact, given exclusively as the object of contingent, or conditionally implied knowledge. We can conceive of space and time as occupied by, or as utterly void of, phenomena and events, substances and causes. As each state and relation is equally conceivable, and, therefore, possible in itself, we have no grounds whatever for an à priori determination of the question whether any, and much less what particular and specific causes, substances, phenomena, and events do exist and occur in time and space. One philosopher sets forth, as an à priori principle in science, the dogma that but one substance or principle of all things does exist. Another philosopher affirms, as a similar principle, the existence of two entities, noumena, as the principle of all things. How can we determine which is right, and which wrong, or whether both are not mistaken? As it is equally conceivable, and therefore possible in itself, that either one, as that the other, may be right and his antagonist wrong, or that both may be in error, we have, and can have no à priori grounds for the determination of any such question. One philosopher affirms knowledge to be possible and actual but in its subjective form; another, that it is possible and actual but in its objective form; another still, that no valid knowledge, in either form, is possible; and a fourth, that it is both possible and actual in both forms. There is nothing self-contradictory in either hypothesis. Either therefore may be true, and all the others false. What ground have we, or can we have, then, for an à priori determination of the question which is, and which is not true? None whatever. The question, which is, and which is not true, is a simple question of fact—a question to be resolved exclusively, not by à priori, but by à posteriori insight, that is, by an appeal to facts of Consciousness. No truth can be more demonstrably evident than this, that all questions of Ontology, questions pertaining to Being and its laws, and substances, and causes, proximate and ultimate, come exclusively within the sphere, not of the à priori, or pure, but of the à posteriori, or mixed sciences. In all our inquiries throughout the wide domain of ontological science, we are absolutely confined to facts of actual intuition, to substances and causes implied by such facts, and to the logical deductions which such facts, substances, and causes yield.

8. We can, also, determine with equal absoluteness what is the true, and only true, method of induction and deduction in the domain of ontological science. Two, and only two, methods are known to science, the à priori and the à posteriori or inductive. In the pure sciences, the former, and in the mixed the latter, exclusively obtains. In the former all principles and facts are given as necessarily valid and real. In the latter we have our necessary principles, while our facts are given exclusively through perception or intuitive insight. Suppose now that the à priori method, the method which has place in the pure sciences only, is carried over into the universe of facts and objects of contingent ideas, and an attempt is made through such method to resolve all questions of facts pertaining to Being and its laws. As a matter of course and necessity, we shall substitute lawless assumptions in the place of vale à priori principles, and imaginary facts and substrata in the place of intuitively known realities and their attributes.

All our deductions, consequently, will have no more validity for real existences and their laws than the wildest fables possess for historic verities. The report of an individual of his personal knowledge in regard to the visibilities of London or Paris, an individual who has merely passed through its streets with his eyes and ears and senses so closed that he could see and hear and feel nothing, would be just as reliable as are the à priori visions of the greatest philosopher in regard to facts of universal being and its laws. Conceive such a philosopher located in empty space, with an absolute oblivion of mind and matter, time and space. Require him, under these conditions and circumstances, to determine wholly by à priori insight what reality or realities do, or do not, exist, and what are their nature, relations, and laws. This, undeniably, is a far more favourable condition for such insight than a location amid the 'unavoidable illusions' and 'prejudices' and deceptive appearances of perception. All such illusions and prejudices and appearances can do nothing but darken à priori insight of absolute truth, if the power of direct vision of such truth exists in the mind. The Yogee, with the Transcendental Philosopher, does all he can, 'when he begins to philosophize,' to put himself into the very state above described. 'He puts himself into a state of not-knowing,' and 'assumes all existing forms of knowledge to be uncertain,' and 'by an absolute and scientific scepticism to which he voluntarily determines himself for the purpose of future certainty,' 'compels himself to treat such knowledge as nothing but a prejudice.' It takes a world of trouble to effect such 'a purification of the mind' as this, and while by this higher à priori insight the vision of the Absolute is being received, these 'unavoidable illusions' will return and force themselves upon the attention, and thus disturb 'pious meditation' and cloud the desired vision of real being and its laws. But let this state of not-knowing 'be perfected by an absolute oblivion of these otherwise unavoidable illusions'—an utter oblivion of matter and spirit, time and space. Nothing would then be left to disturb 'pious meditation,' or cloud the vision of 'the faculty of intellectual intuition.' Here, if by any possibility the end can be accomplished by à priori insight, and the à priori method of philosophizing in the domain of Ontology, we should obtain an absolutely verified system of universal being and its laws.

We lay this down as a proposition which no candid thinker who has comprehended the above facts and arguments will question, that every system of Ontology—a system developed and constructed in conformity with the principles of the à priori method of philosophizing—stands revealed as a demonstrated fiction of false science. The era has arrived when, but in the sphere of pure science, the mathematics, the à priori method of philosophizing in the domain of real substances and causes, and of universal being and its laws, should be left and for ever remain among the 'fossilized precepts' or illusions of bygone eras.

We have but one exclusive method left us for the determination and solution of all questions and problems pertaining to substances and causes, Being and its relations and laws, the à posteriori or inductive method. In conducting our inquiries, there must be, in the light of undeniably valid criteria, a careful discrimination between real principles of science and assumptions, and between mere opinions, beliefs, and conjectures, and forms of valid knowledge, and from such principles and knowledges our system of Being and its laws must, with rigid integrity, be deduced. Then, and then only, will such systems lay veritable claims to our regard as 'knowledge systematized.' Hitherto philosophic inquiry has for the most part been conducted without any proper determination of the distinctive characteristics and spheres of the à priori and inductive methods in science, without any proper determination of the question which method has exclusive place and authority in the domain of ontological inquiry, and without a scientific determination of the criteria by which principles in science are distinguished from assumptions, and forms of real valid knowledge from mere opinions, beliefs, and conjectures pertaining to facts and realities in the universe within and around us.

If the wisest philosophers of the age were required to give specific information on all these topics of fundamental interest, we venture the opinion that most of them would be at a loss to furnish it. If all philosophic inquiry into being and its laws were suspended until all the questions and problems above suggested were fully solved, and if from that time onward all forms of ontological induction and deduction should be conducted in strict accordance with the method and principles thus developed and verified, the fog and miasma of false science would soon pass away, and humanity would move on in the bright sunlight of real science.

9. Enough has already been said, perhaps, in regard to the claims set up by certain philosophers, that they possess a faculty of special 'intellectual intuition,' or à priori insight, by which they are able, independently of facts of à posteriori knowledge, to furnish us with absolute information pertaining to universal being and its laws. As we shall hereafter, as we have so frequently met in the past, meet with this profession, and encounter imposing systems reared up under its affirmed guidance, we shall be pardoned for a special consideration of this profession in this connection. We are now able to demonstrate this profession, with all its à priori systems of ontology, to be nothing but the eeriest and most absurd illusion that has ever appeared in the sphere of scientific thought. The well-known characteristics of à priori knowledge, in all its forms, are absolute universality and necessity. In other words, the objects of such knowledge are conceived of as existing with the utter impossibility of even conceiving of them as not existing. If these philosophers are really possessed of this à priori insight, the forms of knowledge furnished through it will have the two fixed characteristics under consideration. So of the systems of Ontology thus furnished. Such systems, in all their principles, facts, and deductions, will have all the forms and degrees of absolute and necessary certainty that the pure sciences have.

Now there is not a solitary form of cognition, a form which has ever been furnished by this insight, which has any such characteristics whatever. Not one principle, fact, or deduction thus furnished has even the appearance of universal and necessary certainty. On the other band, all the multitudinous forms of Being thus affirmed, as objects of absolute knowledge, have, in themselves, the fixed characteristics of objects of contingent knowledge, and the existence of every such object is absolutely incompatible with that of every other. Take, as an example, this affirmed à priori, or necessary, principle of science, the principle affirmed so to be such by Materialism and Idealism in all their forms, to wit, 'that but one substance or principle of all things does exist.' If this is, as it is affirmed to be, a real à priori principle, it would be just as absolutely impossible for us to conceive of its non-validity, as it is to conceive of the non-validity of the principle, 'Things equal to the same things are equal to one another.' Who does not perceive that the former has none of the essential characteristics of the latter? While we do, and cannot but know, that the latter is, and must be, true, without the possession of absolute omniscience, we cannot determine whether the former is, or is not, true, much less whether it must be true.

In the sphere of Materialism we have this absolute revelation of 'intellectual intuition,' or à priori insight, that matter is the only existing substance. In the sphere of Idealism we have, as the revelation of absolute truth, the dogma that spirit, or its operations alone, has being, a revelation given forth by this same 'faculty of intellectual intuition,' or à priori insight. In one of these cases, at least, this infallible organ of 'intellectual intuition,' or à priori knowledge, must have erred fundamentally. The faculty of real à priori insight, however, can, by no possibility, err in any case. All its revelations are absolute, and cannot even be conceived to be untrue.

If we take either of these propositions by itself, we shall find that it has not a single characteristic of intuitive, or necessary certainty. Nor, without the possession of omniscience, or a revelation from a being really and truly omniscient, could we know the proposition to be true, even were it true.

So we may take up, one by one, all the particular revelations of this faculty, and all the multitudinous, conflicting, and contradictory systems of universal being and its laws, systems constructed from elements furnished by this faculty, and demonstrate that not one of them presents a solitary element or form of intuition, or à priori knowledge. Not one of these philosophers can give us any more proof, or evidence, that he is, in truth, possessed of any such faculty, than he can that he is really and truly possessed of the attribute of absolute omniscience. A claim set up to the actual possession of such an attribute would be no more preposterous and absurd, than is the claim of an actual possession of such faculty. No human being can have any more real and valid à priori knowledge of the substances and causes, and forms and laws of Being, existing and acting in time and space, than he can, by mere à priori insight, determine the exact quantity of water which has fallen in any given shower of rain, or the exact dimensions and weight of the Earth, or of Jupiter. Whenever we shall meet, in our subsequent inquiries, with a philosopher claiming such insight, and with world-systems constructed by means of such affirmed insight, science absolutely demands that we shall regard the man as under a bewildering form of philosophic hallucination, and his system as constructed of materials as insubstantial as 'airy nothing.'

There are still other equally fundamental views which should be taken in regard to this claim of a power of à priori insight relatively to Being and its laws. By this insight a direct and immediate vision is had, it is affirmed, of the inner nature and principles of substances and causes. If this vision of the interior of such realities is had through the attributes of substances and causes, we have nothing but forms of ordinary vision, and no à priori knowledge at all. The character of the knowledge secured is wholly contingent, and not necessary, that is, à priori, in any sense. If these objects are perceived without, and not through, their attributes, then no knowledge of any kind, knowledge à priori or à posteriori, is obtained. To know realities without knowing their attributes is not to know anything about them.

By no possibility can the Knowledge affirmed be obtained of any such Substances or Causes.

There is a still greater absurdity and hallucination connected with this profession. By this insight certain philosophers profess to know, not only that certain perceived realities do exist, but that others not perceived do not exist. We have a direct perception, we will suppose, of some reality. That perception is valid for the existence of the object, and for nothing more. In regard to the question whether some other, and not incompatible object does, or does not exist, this perception has no validity whatever. This principle does, and must apply to à priori, as well as to every other form of insight. The insight can, say what we will, have validity but for what is actually seen. As against the existence of any other not incompatible reality, such vision can have no validity whatever. Now these philosophers profess to obtain, in all their à priori visions, not only a knowledge that what they see does exist, but that this is the sum of all existence, and that nothing else does, or can, have being. The disciples of Kanada and Compte, by à priori insight, perceive matter not only to be real, but to be the only existing reality. The disciples of Kapila and Kant, by the same insight, perceive and affirm the existence of two unknown entities, noumena, as the sole existences and principles of all things. The disciples of the Buddha and Transcendental Subjective Idealistic school, perceive absolutely by the same insight, that the finite, 'I myself I,' and that alone has real being. Those of the Vedanta and Pantheistic schools of all ages perceive absolutely, and by means of the same identical insight, that Brahm, or the Absolute, alone exists, and exists as the exclusive principle of all things. Finally, the Pure Idealists of the Buddha and Transcendental schools perceive, if possible, with still greater absoluteness, that thought is, and that nothing else is real. Each school obtains an à priori revelation of absolute truth, that a specific form of being is real, and that nothing else does, or can exist. Who does not perceive, at once, that the validity of such insight is an utter nullity, and that the professed power of perceiving any object, as not only being a reality in itself, but as being the only form of real existence, is the grossest conceivable absurdity?

When we perceive any substance, or cause, or form of being to be real, unless we can perceive, at the same time, that it so occupies infinite space as to render the existence of any other object an absolute impossibility, our perception that said object is a reality presents not the remotest degree of even probable evidence that nothing else is real. The positive and negative form in which this affirmed à priori insight always acts renders demonstrably evident the fact, that the idea of the existence of such a faculty is one of the wildest conceivable forms of scientific hallucination.

Taking as valid the result of the testimony of all these schools in its only admissible, that is, in its positive forms, what do we obtain? We obtain, we reply, an absolute proof of the validity of the hypothesis which they all, in common, deny, to wit, the reality of matter and spirit, and of time and space. All these are absolutely affirmed realities in these several schools, one in one school, and another in another, and in all are thus affirmed by the same form of insight. In one school spirit, and in another matter, is given as the object of absolute knowledge, and no philosopher can show why the evidence presented is not just as valid in one case, as in the other. We are necessitated to affirm either that these philosophers have no such insight as they assume themselves possessed of, or that we have both an à priori and à posteriori knowledge of space and time, matter and spirit, as realities in themselves.

SECTION IV

MYSTERY AND ABSURDITY DEFINED AND DISTINGUISHED.

IN the science of Natural Theology, we have very carefully defined, and distinguished from each other, the ideas represented by these two terms. The fundamental bearing of these discriminations upon our future inquiries will be our apology for introducing the same subject in the present connection. What, then, do we mean by these terms, and wherein do they differ the one from the other?

An absurdity involves a contradiction, and appears in two forms—affirming that the same thing is, at the same time, true and not true of the same object, or affirming what is palpably contrary to, or incompatible with, an absolutely known truth. The nature of the absurd in the first form designated is so obvious, that but a single example in illustration is required. A philosopher affirms that in all cases of vision the object really perceived is not an external form, but an image on the retina. He then employs vision itself to prove the existence of the image in the assigned locality, the image which is now an exterior object. According to the theory, the image itself cannot be seen, but only an image of an image. There are two absurdities in this argument—proving by an image which, by hypothesis, is not seen, that nothing but an image is ever seen at all, and inferring from the assumed existence of the image that it, and not the object of conscious vision, is seen.

An individual is affirmed to be blameable for not having done what is admitted to have been impossible to him. We recognise ourselves at once as in the presence of an absurdity of the second class, the possible being absolutely known to be the only conceivable object of moral obligation. The same form of the absurd appears, when an argument or objection is held to be valid in disproof of a given hypothesis, when the same argument or objection holds in all its force against another hypothesis known or admitted to be true. A philosopher proposes to give us real science in the admitted and affirmed sphere of the unknown and unknowable, or 'to demonstrate' for us 'a single physical basis of life underlying all the diversities of vital existence,' or that 'a unity of power or faculty, a unity of form, and a unity of substantial composition, does pervade the whole living world,' and then gravely informs us that 'it is certain that we can have no knowledge of the nature of either matter or spirit.' In all such cases, the absurd has reached its consummation. A fact, we will suppose, is known to us as an event of actual occurrence. The reason or cause of its occurrence is, to us, unknown and unascertainable. The event, in such case, would rank as a fact of actual knowledge, while the cause would be a mystery. It is thus that the known and mysterious everywhere lie out side by side before us. If we will admit no fact to have occurred, and no object to be real, the occurrence and existence of which involve a mystery, we shall for ever remain, in the strictest sense of the words, 'know-nothings.' No fact or proposition, falling within the proper sphere of the self-contradictory, or absurd, can be an object of rational belief, because that, by no possibility, can such an event occur, or any such proposition be true. The element of Mystery, however deep, on the other hand, is no proof whatever that a given fact has not occurred, or that a given proposition is not true. Almost no discriminations can be of greater importance in science than those just made between the absurd and the mysterious. Any fact, the possible occurrence of which is conceivable, is a possible event, and its occurrence may, on adequate evidence, be an object of rational belief, and a denial of its occurrence may be most irrational. Any form of being, the existence of which is conceivably possible, is a possible form of existence; and a belief in it as real, the fact of its existence being affirmed by adequate evidence, is most rational, and disbelief under such circumstances is equally irrational. Positive belief in the absurd, and disbelief in the presence of valid evidence, and doubt in the presence of real proof, are intellectual states equally credulous and irrational, and moral states of the greatest criminality.

Existence involves a Mystery.

Of all forms of the mysterious none are, or can be, greater than that involved in the idea of existence, that is, when we ask the question, not what is real, but why a given form of being or substance is real instead of not real. 'We way know absolutely,' as we have said in another work, 'that a certain substance does as a matter of fact exist. But when we attempt to go beyond the mere fact and to determine the question why the substance does exist instead of not exist, we find that we can discover neither in the fact referred to, nor in the nature or relations of the substance revealed as existing, any light whatever in regard to such inquiries.' Any conceivable, we repeat, is a possible form of existence, and any one such form is just as possible as any other. Belief in the reality of any conceivable form of being, when affirmed as real by adequate evidence, is most rational, and disbelief most irrational. The questions what realities do exist, and why they exist, are questions totally distinct and separate the one from the other. The depth of the mystery involved in the why of existence is no reason whatever for disbelief in the fact of existence. The belief in the reality of one form of being is no reason whatever for disbelief in that of another and not incompatible form of existence. As the why of existence is, in all conceivable forms of being, alike and equally mysterious, and we are of necessity confined to the mere and exclusive question, What is real? one form of conceivable existence is in itself and on à priori grounds just as possible and probable as any other; nor can we on such grounds determine at all what substances and causes are and are not real.

The law of rational belief and disbelief, in respect to being and its laws, is absolute, and may be thus stated—to wit, Whatever conceivable forms of being are manifested as real, and none others, must be admitted as actual, that is, all forms of being directly and immediately perceived to be real, together with all implied by and logically deduced from what is thus perceived, all these, and nothing more, must be taken into account as real in the constitution of our theory of existence and its laws. The conscious conceivability of any form of existence demonstrates it as a possible form of being, and removes utterly and absolutely all antecedent probability against its reality. The fact of its consciously direct and immediate manifestation as a real form of being must be to the mind, on scientific grounds, perfect proof of its real existence.

Bearing of these Conclusions upon our former Deductions.

As we have formerly shown, and as admitted and affirmed in all schools of Philosophy, matter and spirit, and time and space are actually conceivable and conceived forms of existence. Nor, as all admit, is the idea of the existence of any one of them conceivably incompatible with that of any other. They all, then, stand demonstrably revealed as possible existences with no antecedent probability against their being, all in common and all together actual existences, their united existence being utterly undeniable on à priori grounds. The simple question for science, then, is this, Are we conscious of matter and spirit as objects of direct and immediate perception, and of time and space as necessary forms of being whose reality is implied by what is consciously perceived? Numberless, impenetrable, and unsolvable mysteries may hang about the why of their existence and manifestation. The fact of both may be objects of absolute knowledge, and therefore real. If we shall hereafter meet with philosophers who deny the fact that we are conscious of a direct and immediate perception of matter and spirit as distinct and separate and actual forms of being, and of knowing time and space as necessary forms of existence absolutely implied as real by what we consciously perceive, we shall deny the correctness of the psychology of such thinkers, and shall sustain that denial by an appeal to the already absolutely pronounced judgment of the universal consciousness. If these philosophers shall deny the validity of such conscious forms of absolute knowledge for the reality and character of their objects, we shall deny the correctness of the logic of these thinkers, and shall sustain that denial by an appeal to the already pronounced judgment of the same tribunal as before. The undeniable fact should fully satisfy every friend of true science that the validity of our knowledge of each of these realities, in common with every other, cannot be denied without an absolute impeachment of the integrity and validity of the universal intelligence itself as a faculty of knowledge.

The Existence of a Power of Knowledge involves a Mystery equally profound.

Knowledge, as shown in the General Introduction, implies a power and an object of knowledge, and these in such relations to each other that real knowledge arises by virtue of the nature and relations of the power and object referred to. If we inquire for the reasons why such power exists, why such conditions are necessary to its action, and why knowledge does arise when these conditions are fulfilled, all is an absolute mystery to us, excepting what is implied in the statement above given. We know, and cannot but know, that knowledge, in any and every form, does and must imply a power and object of knowledge, and that whenever knowledge does arise, it must exist in consequence of the relations and corelated nature of said power and object. If philosophers are not satisfied with the why, as revealed in the above necessary and self-evident principle, then this why must for ever remain to them and to us a profound and impenetrable mystery. We have no means of knowing why any conditions are necessary to the existence of real knowledge, and aside from the reason above given, why knowledge arises when these conditions are fulfilled. By absolute necessity our legitimate inquiries are wholly confined to the actual conditions, objects, and forms of knowledge which in fact do exist, and to what is implied by the same. À priori we can by no possibility determine whether any power, and much less what power of knowledge, does exist, what are its objects, and what are the necessary conditions of its action. The existence of a power of knowledge can be known but through the conscious fact of actual knowledge. The nature of that power can be determined but through conscious forms and objects of knowledge. The conditions of the possibility of human knowledge can be determined but through the conscious conditions in which actual knowledge does, in fact, arise. The extent and limits of our faculty of knowledge are determinable but through the actual facts, forms, and objects of human knowledge and what is implied by the same. The absolute validity of all the above statements is, undeniably, self-evident. If neither philosophers nor anybody else can conceive how and why knowledge in any given form is possible and therefore real, that is no reason whatever why we, in the presence of the conscious fact of such knowledge, should deny its actual existence, the how and the why in the sense now under consideration being in all cases of real knowledge equally and absolutely mysterious to us.

No forms of philosophizing can be more absurd than is the assumption of certain schools in Philosophy that they can determine à priori whether any and what real powers of knowledge do exist, what is the nature of the human intelligence, what objects does it and can it know, and what are the specific conditions, extent, and limits of human knowledge.

Any conceivable is undeniably a possible form of knowledge, and any one actually conceivable form is in itself just as possible and probable a form as any other. How, then, can anyone determine à priori that this form does exist, and that that cannot, and does not, exist? and that this or that is the immutable condition of valid knowledge in all cases? On the assumed authority of à priori insight, the Materialist affirms that the immutable condition of valid knowledge is that the subject and object of knowledge shall be exterior to each other. On the assumed authority of the same insight, Idealists of one school affirm that valid knowledge is conditioned on a 'synthesis of being and knowing;' and another, on 'the absolute identity of being and knowing.' Sceptics, on the same authority, affirm actual knowledge impossible on any of these conditions. Realists, on the other hand, on the undeniable authority of consciously conceivable, possible, and actual facts of actual knowledge, affirm knowledge to be possible and actual both in its exterior and interior forms. Now, we affirm that the Materialist, Idealist, and Sceptic have just as much and no more power to determine à priori the specific number, form, and dimensions of all objects on the other side of the moon, as they have to determine the specific nature of the human intelligence, its objects of valid knowledge, the conditions of its valid activity, and the extent and limits of its sphere. Some philosophers affirm that the how and the why of knowledge are to them conceivable but in one specific form; others, that to them this how and why are conceivable but in another and opposite form; while others affirm that the same how and why, but as above stated, are to them equally mysterious in all forms. What shall we do? This only can we do. We can determine, through conscious facts; what we know, and what is implied by actually existing forms of conscious knowledge. We can thus, and thus only, fully meet all the real demands of science upon this subject.

SECTION V.

IN WHAT SENSE AND FORM IS HUMAN KNOWLEDGE RELATIVE AND PHENOMENAL?

ALL our world-knowledge, we are taught in certain schools, is merely phenomenal, and in no case has anything more than a relative validity. In what sense and form are such statements valid? The primary meaning of the term 'phenomenon' is appearance. An object is manifested to us. The form of the manifestation is called a phenomenon of said object. All the forms of its manifestation are called its phenomena. The question, and the only question, for science in this connection is this: In phenomena, are realities manifested as they are, or as they are not? Is perception, external and internal, what the Transcendental Philosophy affirms it to be, 'an unavoidable illusion inhering in reason itself,' or is it a source of real, valid knowledge?

In Phenomena, Objects are Manifested as they are, and not as they are not.

Let us first contemplate perception in its consciously indirect and mediate form, through sensation. A sensation, we will suppose, is induced in the mind. As an object of direct and immediate consciousness, we undeniably know the sensation itself as it is, and not as it is not. So far the phenomenal and the real are identical. With the sensation, however, a form of necessary and absolute knowledge arises—to wit, that this sensation had, and must have had, a cause. Two forms, not of illusory, but of real knowledge, are obtained by sensation: a real knowledge of the subjective state itself, and of the fact that real causes do exist—causes adapted and adequate to produce said states. So far our knowledge is undeniably not illusory, but real; and this is all that is given as actually known in the case. For all practical purposes we are able to determine, with sufficient accuracy, in what specific objects these causes exist. What is given as absolutely known, however, is the fact and nature of the sensation itself, and the actual existence in the universe of real causes adequate and adapted to produce the sensation. It alters not the reality or validity of our knowledge to affirm that if our sensibility was differently constituted from what it now is, our sensations would be diverse from what they are. Suppose that this department of our nature was changed, and that in each change totally new sensations were induced. In such case our knowledge of the possibilities of our sensitive nature, and of the nature of existing causes, would be enlarged, but would not be less real and certain than it now is. So far, then, we repeat, the phenomenal and the real are identical.

The case holds, with the same absoluteness, in respect to all forms of consciously direct and immediate knowledge. In all such cases, in the language of Sir William Hamilton, 'the object is conceived as perceived,' and to affirm 'that we perceive the object to exist, and know it to exist, is to affirm the same thing.' In all such conscious forms of knowledge, to affirm that we do not know objects as they are, and that the phenomenal and the real are not one and identical, is, in the language of the same author, to affirm 'consciousness to be a liar from the beginning.' It is, undeniably, a hallucination of false science to affirm that phenomena, or illusory appearances, stand between the Intelligence and the conscious objects of direct and immediate knowledge.

The Dogma that all our World-Knowledge is mere Illusory Appearance.

Let us for a few moments contemplate the dogma that all forms of world, and we might add necessary, knowledge is mere illusory appearance. This is the common doctrine, as Mr. Herbert Spencer rightly affirms, of all anti-theistic philosophers of all ages. At the same time, all these philosophers agree and avow that the Intelligence is so constituted that it does and must originate these phenomena, and also believe in their validity. We need not repeat what is quoted in the General Introduction from such authors as Kant and Coleridge on this subject. To the same effect we now cite the authority of Mr. Spencer himself. 'It is impossible,' he says, 'to get rid of the consciousness of an actuality lying behind appearances;' and 'from this impossibility,' he adds, 'the indestructible belief in that actuality.' The common doctrine of all these systems embraces the following essential items: 1. The Intelligence is so immutably constituted that, from its changeless nature and laws, it must originate these illusions. 2. For the same reasons, it must believe in the actuality of the objects of these appearances—that is, in illusions. 3. From its nature and laws, it finally discerns the unavoidable cheat which it necessarily perpetrates upon itself. 4. After the cheat has been discovered, the belief in the actuality of the objects of these known illusions remains as 'indestructible' as before. 5. To be philosophers, we must, 'by a scientific scepticism to which we voluntarily determine ourselves,' compel ourselves to treat these 'indestructible beliefs,' which 'cannot be removed by grounds or arguments,' 'as nothing but a prejudice.' Such, undeniably, is the real creed of these philosophers. This creed palpably embraces this dogma—that the Intelligence, from its changeless nature and laws, must believe in a lie, knowing and avowing it to be such.

On the supposition that the Intelligence is divinely constituted, we have here an infinite slander upon our Creator, to wit, that He has so constituted that faculty that it must originate a lie, then discover the falsehood, and finally believe in it after its character is known. It is undeniable that an infinite and perfect God might have constituted, in the stead of such a lying power, a faculty of real knowledge. What must be His character if, instead of a faculty of real integrity, He has originated such a monstrosity as these philosophers make the human intelligence to be? If, on the other hand, this Intelligence was not divinely constituted, we have, in the dogma before us, a slander equally monstrous upon nature itself; for we have here the doctrine that nature in her highest laws, those of the Intelligence, is throughout a blank lie, and nothing else. Such are the absurdities which we must embrace or admit and affirm the identity of the phenomenal and real.

The Real Relativity of Knowledge.

It is only to us as human beings, it is gravely affirmed, that our world-knowledge and necessary ideas have validity for realities as they are in themselves. To intelligences constituted intellectually, or even sensitively, different from us, there may be no such realities as matter and spirit, time and space, and no validity to the proposition 2 x 2 = 4, or to the axioms such as 'Things equal to the same things are equal to each other.' In reply we have only to say that if mankind alone can apprehend and comprehend such simple truths as these, human beings are the only rational beings that do exist. We meet with a human being who cannot be taught that 2 x 2 = 4, or that a circle is not a square. We justly regard and treat him as an idiot. So ought we to regard all beings who reveal similar forms of incapacity.

To affirm that there can be rational beings who can comprehend the axioms, numbers, and figures referred to, and not judge of them as we do, is one of the greatest conceivable absurdities. Knowledge is, undeniably, not relative in this sense, that it does not really and truly represent its objects.

The opposite dogma is certainly incapable of proof. No one will pretend that it has self-evident validity. Nor can any class of real intelligents be produced to whom matter and spirit and time and space are not realities, and with whom 2 x 2 does not equal 4, or things equal to the same things are not equal to one another. Nor can we form any conception of the nature of that kind of rationality to which 2 x 2 = 10, or things equal to the same things may be one of them twice as large as the other. In no such sense as that under consideration has our knowledge a mere relative validity. If the term relativity means that the extent of real knowledge with us is limited by the nature of our faculty of knowledge, that is, that we cannot know realities which we are not capacitated to know, we have before us a mere truism, a truism very needlessly uttered. 'A thing of which one has no knowledge,' as Professor Samuel Harris, D. D., has well said, 'is neither false nor true for him, but simply unknown. Philosophy would have been saved from a great deal of confusion on this point had it been kept in mind that false and true apply only to the knowable or the known.'

If the term relativity is assumed to mean that we can know, not substance itself, that is, substance without attributes, but only the attributes of being, we find ourselves in the presence of two essential errors, namely, that there may be substance or being without attributes, and that there may be attributes without substance. Pure being, that is, substance without attributes, is a non-entity, and the idea of attributes without a subject involves the same form of contradiction as that of an event without a cause. Substances and attributes are necessarily connected, and substances must be as their attributes. So far, therefore, as we know the attributes of being, we know being itself; and so far as we know the real attributes of being, we know being as it is. Our knowledge of being is limited because our knowledge of its attributes is limited. If we knew all the attributes of being, we should have a perfect knowledge of being itself. Limited knowledge, also, as far as it extends, is just as real and true of being as full or perfect knowledge. The idea that there may be something in what is called the ultimate essence of being which will invalidate our present knowledge of its attributes, or do away with these attributes, is a chimera of false science. We have quite as much reason to affirm that the ultimate essence is wholly embraced and revealed in its known as in its unknown attributes; and we have no reason whatever for either supposition. Ultimate essence is partially revealed by every known attribute, and, we repeat, it is fully revealed when all attributes are known.

Nor does the fact that only a part of the attributes of being are known invalidate the classification of substances in view of their known attributes. We may not know, for example, all the properties or relations of the circle or square. Notwithstanding this, we know absolutely, on account of their known properties and relations, that a circle is not and cannot be a square. We are also, no doubt, profoundly ignorant of many of the attributes both of matter and spirit. In view of their known attributes, however, we are as absolutely and rationally assured that matter is not spirit as we are that a circle is not a square.

Relativity of knowledge is, by some philosophers, affirmed to mean that we know merely the relations of qualities, and not the realities themselves. 'Every complete act of consciousness,' says Mr. Spencer, 'besides distinction and relation, also implies likeness. Before it can become an idea or constitute a piece of knowledge, a mental state must not only be known as separate in kind from certain foregoing states to which it is known as related by succession; but it must further be known as of the same kind with certain other foregoing states.'

Here we have quite a number of fundamental errors of the gravest character. Among them we specify the following: 1. The Intelligence has the capacity to discern the relations of things without knowing at all what these things themselves are, that is, in absolute ignorance of the numbers 2 and 4, we can know absolutely that 2 x 2 = 4. Without fear of contradiction we affirm that a greater absurdity can hardly be imagined. 2. Until after classification, and not even then, it should have been said, can we have any conception whatever of the realities classified. 'Before the feelings produced by intercourse with the world have been put in order, there are no cognitions strictly so-called.' In other words, Field-Marshal Maltke must have fully organized his armies before he could have known that a single soldier existed to be organized. The antecedent is here substituted for the consequent. Cognitions of individuals must exist before classification is possible. 3. According to this dogma, we have derivative cognitions without the primitive. The latter must in its original form have pertained to one single individual irrespective of every other. For the real cognition must have arisen, or the derived could not exist, unless the axiom, 'Ex nihilo, nihil fit,' is false. The idea that relations are discernible in utter ignorance of the things related is an absurdity than which none can be greater. In no such sense as this, then, can relativity be affirmed of human knowledge. When an object 'has absolutely no attribute in common with anything else,' Mr. Spencer assures us 'it must be absolutely beyond the bounds of knowledge.' Such an object, we reply, can be both known and classified. By intuition we could perceive and conceive its real attributes. On reflection we could, in view of the principle of unlikeness, separate it from all other known objects. According to Mr. Spencer, knowledge, in any new form, is impossible, such knowledge being unlike all existing forms. How, then, is progression possible? that is, in the language of our author, 'advancing from the definite homogeneous to the definite heterogeneous'

SECTION VI.

PHYSIOLOGY AND METAPHYSICS.

PHYSIOLOGY and other physical sciences among the Greeks, that is, in certain schools of Greece, did supplant metaphysics. The disciples of the New Philosophy in modern times affirm that 'as sure as every future grows out of the past and present, so will the physiology of the future gradually extend the realm of matter and law, until it is coextensive with knowledge, with feeling, and with action.' Thus we are informed that the halcyon day is near when the scalpel and microscope will supersede consciousness and reflection in the development of the science of mind. The time is come when the fundamental distinction between metaphysics and all other sciences should be distinctly understood.

Our hypothesis on this subject is this, that mental science proper is just as distinct, separate from, and independent of, physiology, as it is of the mathematics, astronomy, natural philosophy, or geology. The telescope of the astronomer, and the hammer of the geologist, have just as much, and no more, to do in the sphere of metaphysics, as the crucible of the chemist, and the microscope and scalpel of the physiologist. What are the real, and only real phenomena of the mind? They are, undeniably, all comprehended in these three classes—thought, feeling, and willing. If we will take into consideration any mental state or act, and ask ourselves the question, What is the nature of this state? we shall find that from no physiological fact, and from no state of the brain or nervous system, can we gain the remotest conception of this mental—state. There are, for example, physiological conditions of sensation. But when we ask the question what sensation, as a sensitive state, is, we can gain no more light upon this subject from the action of our physical system, than we can from that of a steam-engine. What if a physiologist should assure us that by a careful analysis, under a strong microscope, of the nerve of the tooth, together with the connection of that nerve with the other portions of the body, he had discovered the exact nature of that peculiar form of sensation denominated toothache? We should hardly hesitate to affirm, that the proper place for 'our new philosopher' is the Lunatic Asylum. Geology and rail-splitting throw just as much light upon the nature of all our sensitive and emotive states as physiology does.

The same holds true of all our intellectual states. External perception, for example, is always preceded by certain physiological conditions. In the analysis and study of these conditions, however, we can no more determine what perception is in itself, or what are its objects, extent, and limits, than we can in the study of chaos. Does the physiology of the eye reveal the nature and objects of vision? The conditions of vision are one thing, Vision itself is quite another. What resemblance is there between the brain and thought? The nature of the action of the faculty of Self-consciousness is no more revealed through the physiology of the human brain than it is through that of the trunk of an elephant. There is not a single state or movement of the body that reveals, in any form, the nature of any sensitive, emotive, or intellectual state.

The same remarks are equally and especially applicable to all mental states denominated will. Two individuals affirm themselves able to explain, and fully elucidate, the nature and laws of all the phenomena of this mysterious faculty denominated the human will. One of these men has gotten all his knowledge upon this subject in the profound study of the mechanism and workings of a windmill, and the other in a similar study of 'the house we live in'—the human body. We have just as much reason to expect real light from one of these individuals, as we have from the other. In metaphysics we have but one faculty for the determination of facts—Self-consciousness. All questions resolvable throughout the entire sphere of this science are to be resolved in the light of facts, not of external, but exclusively of internal perception. Metaphysics is wholly an internal science, and all its valid deductions have but one basis, facts of internal perception. Physiology is wholly an external science, and has its exclusive basis in facts of external perception. Physiology is as really and truly an external science as is geology or astronomy. We might as properly base our deductions in mental science upon geological or astronomical, as upon physiological facts. We might as properly determine the nature of thought, feeling, and willing, and consequently the faculties and laws of mind, in view of the properties and relations of a triangle, a circle, or square, as by means of an analysis of the brain, or the nervous system. The immutable laws of induction and deduction in the science of mind, laws as stated by Cousin, have absolute and universal authority, namely, Omit no conscious facts, and suppose none not given by Consciousness. The facts thus given are not to be moulded to meet the exigence of desired hypotheses, but are to be interpreted with absolute integrity. If metaphysicians would accept of the real facts of the universal consciousness just as they find them, if they would abjure all 'acts of scientific scepticism to which they voluntarily determine themselves,' if they would repudiate all assumptions, and honestly discriminate between facts of real and assumed knowledge, and with all integrity seek to know mind as God made it, and not as they would have it, the time is not distant when there will be as little difference of opinion in metaphysics as in natural philosophy.

SECTION VII.

FORMS OF PROGRESSION COMMON TO ANTI-THEISTIC SYSTEMS OF PHILOSOPHY.

ANTI-THEISTIC systems of Philosophy always take their points of departure and their specific forms from negations of particular kinds. In all ages and among all schools in which the reality of matter and spirit, and time and space, and the validity of our knowledge of the same, have been admitted, the being and perfections of a personal God have been affirmed. A denial of this doctrine has always been based upon a denial of the validity of our knowledge of matter, on the one hand, or of spirit, on the other, or of both in common. Idealism takes rise and form from the first form of denial, Materialism from the second, and Scepticism from the last. These systems have generally followed each other in the order above named. Anti-theism has never, for any considerable time, taken on any specific and fixed form, a denial of the doctrine of a personal God excepted, but has embodied itself in each system of unbelief as it and while it was an object of the popular faith. As God stands prominently revealed in the popular mind as the Creator of the visible universe, a denial of His being and perfections is most commonly in its first form, based upon a denial of the validity of our knowledge of said universe. Hence the rise of Anti-theism in the form of Idealism, which in succession takes on the form, first of Ideal Dualism, then of Subjective Idealism, then of Pantheism, and finally of Pure Idealism. For no considerable period can the mind in any age continue long within the circle of either of these systems, but passes successively from the first, through the intermediate forms, to the last, 'the driest place,' which 'the unclean spirit' of unbelief ever traverses. Finding less rest and assurance here than in any previous forms of anti-theistic thought, and pressed with the reality of the external universe, another class of thinkers arise—thinkers who affirm the validity of our knowledge of matter, and deny its validity of spirit. Materialism, and with it Atheism now takes on the form of popular belief. After reposing for a period amid the naked forms of a godless universe, the mind becomes oppressed with a sense of inward desolation and want, and also with the immutable conviction that it has precisely the same reasons for denying the validity of matter that it can have for impeaching our knowledge of spirit. Another class of thinkers now arise, denying the validity of knowledge both in its subjective and objective forms, and confounding the advocates of these antagonistic systems with the arguments which they have been employing against each other. As both parties are perfectly powerless against this new form of attack, Scepticism in its turn becomes ascendant, and commands the popular faith. During the freshness of its early espousal, universal doubt appears to the general mind as an angel of light. Absolute vacancy, universal doubt, and hopeless nescience, each and all are states so unnatural and repulsive to our necessary and irrepressible desires for real knowledge, that Scepticism never can, for long periods, hold the human mind under its barren control. Humanity, from its nature and laws, will believe in 'chimeras dire,' rather than in the impossibility of knowing anything.

Under such circumstances, the mind will accept of the doctrine of a personal God, or reaccept some of the forms of Idealism, the first most likely. Then the mind will recommence the circle of successive beliefs above described, and return finally to the sceptical form of thought. Ever since the commencement of the anti-theistic philosophy, as far as the mind has been subjected to its influence, Anti-theism has been moving in this one fixed circle, successively embracing and repudiating the same identical systems. Anglo-Saxon unbelief is now under the control of the oldest form of Scepticism known in the history of Philosophy—a form miscalled 'The New Philosophy.' We shall see hereafter that this affirmed new system is, in fact and form, as old as Protagoras and other Greek sceptics, now known as the ancient Sophists. The next great movement of philosophic thought will be in the direction of the doctrine of a personal God, and of creation 'by the word of God,' or a recommencement of the old cycles which have been so often repeated in the story of past ages, and which we are hereafter to elucidate. We state the above facts as preparatory to a distinct apprehension of the systems which we are to examine. In Greece we shall find the old Oriental systems, with the exception of Theism proper and Scepticism, repeated in fact and form. In modern forms of philosophical thought we shall find the Grecian repeated, the theistic and sceptical included.

SECTION VIII.

THE SCHOOLS OF PHILOSOPHY IN GREECE.

PRIOR to the Socratic period three leading schools in philosophy arose in Greece, that of Ionia, the Italic, and the Eleatic schools, the two last named being located in what was denominated Graecia Major. As the result of the teachings particularly of the two schools last named, there rose in different parts of Greece a class of sceptics known under the title of Sophists.

After Socrates Athens became the great centre of literature and philosophic thought in Greece. Here various schools arose, such as were generally known as the Cynic, the Sceptical, the Platonic, Aristotelic, Epicurean, and Stoic schools. The general doctrine of members of these schools was identical, while each school was peculiarized by special moral teachings from which it received its special designation. After what is generally denominated the Socratic period had passed, the era of what is called the decline of the Greek philosophy commenced—the era in which the doctrines of previous schools, especially those of the Platonic, took on in important particulars new forms.

We shall accordingly comprehend our examination of the Greek philosophy in three general divisions—the Pre-Socratic, the Socratic, and he Post-Socratic periods or schools.

With equal propriety the Greek philosophy as a whole might, as has been done in some important works, be divided into two principal evolutions, the first extending from Thales to Socrates, the second from Socrates to Sextus Empiricus. For the sake of special distinctness, we have taken into account the three general evolutions above designated, and shall divide our examination of this philosophy into a corresponding number of chapters. The following extract from the epitome of the History of Philosophy will enable the reader to appreciate what will be found in these chapters:

'The Greek colonies of Asia Minor and of Italy connected by position, the former with Phoenicia and Chaldea, the latter with Egypt, were the double cradle of Hellenic philosophy. In this respect they were in advance of Greece proper. We might say that before throwing itself into the country which was destined to become the theatre of its great conflicts, Philosophy took its position around it and made as it were preparatory attempts at conquest. But the two tendencies begun in the former period were reproduced in this. The Italic school continued under the new forms the theological and the metaphysical speculations of the East. The Ionic school separated Philosophy much more from traditional science preserved in the sanctuaries. As the several schools of Philosophy—schools originally formed in Asia Minor—and the Greek portions of Italy were transferred to Athens, they brought with them, we would add, their special peculiarities of doctrine and methods of philosophizing, and thus imparted, by the collisions and interminglings of opposite principles and methods, a peculiar character and movement to philosophic thought throughout the Socratic and Post-Socratic periods.' Without a distinct apprehension of the facts above stated, it would be much more difficult to comprehend the diverse and opposite phases and methods of the Greek philosophy. The reader who has fully comprehended the statements and discussions of the present introduction, together with what has gone before, will readily understand and appreciate what is to follow.

CHAPTER I.

THE PRE-SOCRATIC EVOLUTION IN PHILOSOPHY.

SECTION I.

THE IONIC SCHOOL—THALES OF MILETUS.

THALES of Miletus, born about six centuries before the Christian era, and founder of the celebrated school of Ionia, is, by general consent, regarded as the father of the Greek philosophy. With him, unquestionably, commenced the first marked evolution of Philosophy among this people. In such regard was he held by his countrymen that he takes rank as one among the seven wise men of Greece. As a scholar he was not only acquainted with the literature and philosophy of the Eastern nations, but was 'learned in all the wisdom of the Egyptians,' having frequently visited Egypt for purposes of observation and study. With him originated also the maxim which has justly immortalized his name—to wit, 'Know thyself.'

Exposition of the Doctrines of Thales.

We shall with great care exhibit the ascertained views of this philosopher, because we shall thus obtain a central light which will guide us safely in subsequent and darker inquiries. All agree that he taught the reality of matter and of an organized material universe. All agree, also, that he held and taught a definite hypothesis in regard to the nature and state of the material elements prior to their organization as we now find them. Nor do any doubt that he held and taught definite views in regard to the ultimate and unconditioned cause of the change of the condition of these material elements from their primal chaotic state to one of which order is the 'first law' and all-controlling principle. At this point a difference of opinion arises. Some affirm that under Thales the Ionic school was materialistic, and consequently atheistic in its teachings and influence, while others maintain that he held and taught the doctrine of one supreme God as the Creator proper of the universe. Holding, as all admit and affirm that he did, to the real existence of matter and to its original existence in a chaotic state, he must have held and taught that the material elements were brought into a state of universal organization by a law of order existing and acting potentially in matter itself, or by a divine force or cause ab extra. As the writings of this author have not come down to us, we are necessitated to depend upon the records of his utterances and doctrines handed down by others living at subsequent periods. Such sources of information, as we shall find, are perfectly satisfactory. We will first consider the cosmological and then the theistic doctrine and teachings of this world-renowned thinker.

THE COSMOLOGICAL DOCTRINE AND TEACHINGS OF THALES.

The common idea of all world-thinkers who hold the doctrine of material existence is that the primal state of matter is properly represented by the term chaos. Whether this chaos was in a fluid, nebulous, igneous, or aeriform state, here a difference of opinion obtains. What were the teachings of Thales on this subject? All authors, ancient and modern, agree that, according to this thinker, the primal state of matter is represented by the term fluidity—in other words that the material universe was developed out of water. Earth he held to be water condensed, air to be water rarefied, and fire to be rarefied air.

Hippo, of Samos or Regium, a philosopher who lived about two centuries after Thales, maintained the same doctrine, affirming moisture, or water, as embracing the constituent elements of the material universe. Aristotle suggests that 'Thales was impressed with the idea that water contains the constituent elements of all material forms, by observing the fact that all things appear to be nourished by this element, and that it is present in all.' We very probably have here one real cause of the idea under consideration. We suggest another equally probable co-operating cause, to which we shall subsequently refer. Thales, in his multitudinous travels and researches for information, could hardly have remained ignorant of such an author as Moses, from whose account of the creation Longinus subsequently cites. Had Thales not read or heard that, according to Moses, the material universe rose from chaos, because 'the Spirit of the Lord moved upon the face of the waters'? As we are now treating of probabilities, no material error can arise from either of the suggestions before us.

The Theistic Doctrine and Teachings of Thales.

We now advance to the consideration of a question about which a difference of opinion does obtain among modern writers on the history of Philosophy. We refer to the Theistic doctrines and teachings of Thales. The issue before us is this—Did this philosopher teach that the material universe took form from a law of order acting potentially in matter itself, or from the all-formative agency of God? To affirm that he taught the doctrine of creation by natural law is to charge him, without proof, to have held and taught a palpable absurdity. A law of order existing and acting potentially in matter, and thus existing and acting through no exterior cause, must, by hypothesis, have existed and acted there from eternity, and from eternity matter must have existed in an organized, and not in a disorganized, state. A primal chaos could by no possibility have produced order. This principle, as we shall find hereafter, early suggested itself to the Grecian mind, and gave peculiar and special forms to the doctrine of Materialism. The absurdity of the doctrine of organization from chaos by an eternally existing and acting natural law or cause is, we admit, no absolute proof that Thales did not hold and teach it; because, as it has been well said, no great absurdity can be named which has not for ages been