Outlines of Cosmic Philosophy - The Art and Popular Culture Encyclopedia (2024)

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Outlines of Cosmic Philosophy (1874) is a book John Fiske.

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PREFACE.THE present work is based upon lectures given at HarvardUniversity in the autumn of 1869 and spring of 1871, andafterwards repeated, wholly or in part, in Boston, New York,Milwaukee, and London.At the outset these lectures were designed to includeonly a criticism of the Positive Philosophy, and I halno intention of publishing them in anything like theshape in which they were originally written.It waonly when-at the suggestion of Dr. E. L. Youmans, andthrough the kindness of Mr. Marble -the lectures werereported in the New York World, and seemed to meetthe wants of a large number of readers, that I decidedupon publishing them, and upon so enlarging the courseas to make it include a somewhat complete outlinesketch of the new philosophy based on the Doctrine ofEvolution. In coming to this decision, I was at first butcarrying out a project, formed several years earlier, ofwriting a series of essays illustrative of Mr. Spencer'sphilosophy. But the work has grown on my hands, andin its present shape is something more than it was originallyintended to be. For while it does not, as a whole, lay anyclaim to the character of an original work, it has nevertheless come to contain so much new matter, both criticaland constructive, that it can no longer be regarded as a merereproduction of Mr. Spencer's thoughts. The new con-viii PREFACE.structive matter begins with the eighteenth chapter of PartII., which (together with its predecessor) was written in1866, and which leads to conclusions concerning the relationsof a social community to its environment, such as willdoubtless be much more thoroughly and satisfactorily presented by Mr. Spencer in his forthcoming work on Sociology.The following chapters on the Genesis of Man, along withconsiderable expository and critical matter, contain a theoryas to the part taken by the prolongation of human infancyin originating social evolution, which is entirely new inall its features. With the exception of numerous minorsuggestions scattered here and there throughout the work,these are the only parts of the constructive matter which Ican claim as my own; though it may be interesting toobserve that the chapter on the Evolution of Mind wasmostly written, and the theory contained therein entirelyworked out, before the publication of Part V. of the secondedition of Mr. Spencer's " Principles of Psychology."The new critical matter is mostly to be found in thechapters relating to religion, and in the discussion of thevarious points of antagonism between the philosophy hereexpounded and the Positive Philosophy. Though the realwork of demolishing the undue pretensions of Positivismhad already been well accomplished by Mr. Spencer, mostof whose arguments are here reproduced, it seemed to methat much might still be done toward clearing up the direconfusion with which in the popular mind this subjectis surrounded; and this I realized the more keenly as itwas some time before I had succeeded in getting clear of theconfusion myself. Accordingly on every proper occasionthe opinions characteristic of the Positive Philosophy arecited and criticized; and on every occasion they are provedto be utterly irreconcilable with the opinions characteristicof Mr. Spencer's philosophy and adopted in this work. ThePREFACE. ixextravagant claim of Positivism to stand for the whole ofattainable scientific philosophy is, I trust, finally disposedof when it is shown that a system of philosophy has beenconstructed, out of purely scientific materials and by theemployment of scientific methods, which opposes a directnegative to every one of the theorems of which Positivismis made up.The phrase " Cosmic Philosophy," ¹ by which I have proposed to designate this system, has not found favour withMr. Spencer, who urges the objection that all philosophieswhatever may, in a certain sense, be termed " Cosmic,"inasmuch as all philosophies have had for their subjectmatter the explanation of the universe or Cosmos. In thisobjection there would no doubt be much weight if anyalternative term could be proposed which should be ideallyperfect. As it is, I cannot but think that the alternativeterm suggested by Mr. Spencer is open to a parallel objectionof at least equal weight. To the phrase " Synthetic Philosophy," as a distinctive epithet, it is an obvious objectionthat the systems of Aquinas and Hegel, and other systemsbuilt up by the aid of metaphysical methods, might claimto be entitled " Synthetic " as well as the system of Mr.Spencer. So far as this goes, therefore, there would seemto be but little room for choice between the two terms. Butwhen we look more carefully into the matter, the case is seento be otherwise. For not only does the term " Cosmic,"when regard is had to the implications of its primitivemeaning, coLvey all that is conveyed by the term " Synthetic," but it further hits the precise point by which Mr.Spencer's philosophy is fundamentally distinguished alikefrom Positivism and from all ontological systems. For the1 This term was first suggested to me by Mr. Manton Marble, some fouryears ago, though at that time neither he nor I could have appreciated it at its full value.PREFACE.99term " Cosmos " connotes the orderly succession of phenomenaquite as forcibly as it denotes the totality of phenomena; andwith anything absolute or ontological, with anything savethe " Mundus " or orderly world of phenomena, it hasnothing whatever to do. So that, strictly speaking, notheological system of philosophy can be called " Cosmicwhile admitting miracle, special-creation, or any other denialof the persistence of force, into its scheme of things; andno ontological system can be called " Cosmic " while professing to deal with existence not included within thephenomenal world. The term, therefore, forcibly distinguishes Mr. Spencer's philosophy from systems which havecontained ontological or theological assumptions. And, onthe other hand, as is shown below, in the ninth andtenth chapters of Part I., it distinguishes it from Positivism;since the latter philosophy consists of an Organon ofscientific methods ancillary to the construction of a systemof Sociology, and has always implicitly denied the practicalpossibility of such a unified doctrine of the Cosmos asMr. Spencer has succeeded in making. In short, Mr.Spencer's philosophy is not merely a Synthesis , but it isa " Cosmic Synthesis; " that is, it is a system which, without;making appeal to data that are ontological or to agenciesthat are extra- cosmic, brings all known truths concerningthe coexistence and succession of phenomena into relationwith one another as the corollaries of a single primordialtruth, which is alleged of the omnipresent Existence (ignoredby Positivism) whereof the phenomenal world is the multiform manifestation. To no other system yet devised canthis definition be strictly applied; and of no other systemcan we strictly say that it is "Cosmic."او Along with these specific advantages, as characterizingMr. Spencer's system of philosophy, the term " Cosmicand its congeners possess sundry general advantages, asPREFACE. xi"9characterizing that entire method or habit of philosophizingof which Mr. Spencer's system is in our day the mostconspicuous product. In this sense I have contrasted"Cosmism " with "Anthropomorphism as two differentfashions or habits of interpreting phenomena, the contrastbeing more specifically carried out, in the concludingchapters of this work, between " Cosmic Theism" and"Anthropomorphic Theism." For further justification andelucidation I must refer to the body of the work, wherethese terms are introduced and defended as occasionrequires. In view of all that is thus from time to timebrought forward, I think it will appear that a morestrikingly characteristic terminology would be hard tofind, or one in which so great a number of kindred distinctions are expressed by so small a group of terms.But while it is incumbent on me to declare Mr. Spencer'sdisapproval of this terminology, it should be added that,so far as I know, the question at issue between us is purelya question of nomenclature, and is not implicated with anyessential differences of opinion as to the character andposition of the system of thought to which the nomenclatureis applied. Without implying that Mr. Spencer should beheld responsible for everything that is maintained in thefollowing pages, I believe that the system here expoundedis essentially his, and that such supplementary illustrationsas I have added are quite in harmony with the fundamentalprinciples which he has laid down.Much of the new critical matter thus appears to beconcerned with questions of nomenclature and other questions which hinge, directly or remotely, upon these. Andconsidering how important are the " counters of thought."and how often they are made to do duty as its hard money,it will perhaps be felt that too much emphasis has not beenlaid upon these points. The rest of the new critical matter,xii PREFACE.as before hinted, occurs in Part III., where it is attemptedto show that the hostility between Science and Religion,about which so much is talked and written, is purely achimera of the imagination. Putting the case into otherlanguage, it may be said that to assert a radical hostilitybetween our Knowledge and our Aspirations, is to postulatesuch a fundamental viciousness in the constitution of thingsas the evolutionist, at least, is in no wise bound to acknowledge. The real conflict, as I have sought to show, is notbetween Knowledge and Aspiration, but between the lessimperfect knowledge of any given age and the more- imperfectknowledge of the age which has gone before. For it lies inthe nature of progress that the heresy or new-knowledge ofyesterday is the orthodoxy or old-knowledge of to- day,and that to those who have learned to associate theiraspirations with the old knowledge it may well seem impossible that like aspirations should be associated with thenew. But the experience of many ages of speculativerevolution has shown that while Knowledge grows and oldbeliefs fall away and creed succeeds to creed, neverthelessthat Faith which makes the innermost essence of religionis indestructible. Were it not for the steadfast convictionthat this is so, what could sustain us in dealing withquestions so mighty and so awful that one is sometimesfain to shrink from facing their full import, lest the mindbe overwhelmed and forever paralyzed by the sense of itsnothingness?VENICE, April 16, 1874CONTENTS.PART I.PROLEGOMENA.CHAPTER LTHE RELATIVITY OF KNOWLEDGE •THE SCOPE OF PHILOSOPHYTHE TEST OF TRUTH ·PHENOMENON AND NOUMENONPAGE3CHAPTER II.2222CHAPTER III.45CHAPTER IV.72CHAPTER V.THE SUBJECTIVE AND OBJECTIVE METHODS 97CAUSATION .CHAPTER VI.• 146xiv CONTENTS.CHAPTER VII.ANTHROPOMORPHISM AND COSMISM • ·CHAPTER VIII.ORGANIZATION OF THE SCIENCESPAGE • 162188CHAPTER IX.PHILOSOPHY AS AN ORGANON • 234CHAPTER X.COSMISM AND POSITIVISM . 255CHAPTER XI.THE QUESTION STATED 265PART II.SYNTHESIS.CHAPTER I.MATTER, MOTION, AND FORCE • •RHYTHM .279CHAPTER II.297CHAPTER IIIEVOLUTION AND DISSOLUTION 314CHAPTER IV.THE LAW OF EVOLUTION 326CONTENTS. XVPLANETARY EVOLUTIONCHAPTER V. PAGE 356CHAPTER VI.THE EVOLUTION OF THE EARTH 398CHAPTER VII.THE SOURCES OF TERRESTRIAL ENERGY • 406CHAPTER VIII.THE BEGINNINGS OF LIFE •418CHAPTER IX.SPECIAL-CREATION or DERIVATION?. · 438

PART I.PROLEGOMENA.66 Quare speculatio illa Parmenidis et Platonis, quamvis in illis nuda fueritspeculatio, excelluit tamen: Omnia per scalam quandam ad unitatem ascendere." BACON."Das schönste Gluck des denkenden Menschen ist das Erforschlicheerforscht zu haben, und das Unerforschliche ruhig zu verehren. " —GOETHE.

CHAPTER I.THE RELATIVITY OF KNOWLEDGE.WHEN We contemplate any portion of matter, such as acubical block of metal or wood, it appears to our senses to beperfectly solid. No breach of continuity appearing anywhereamong the aggregate of visual and tactual perceptions whichits presence awakens in us, we are unable to restrain ourselvesfrom imagining that its parts are everywhere in actual contactwith each other. Nevertheless, a brief analysis of this opinionwill suffice to show that it cannot be maintained withoutlanding us in manifest absurdity. We need only recollectthat every portion of matter is compressible, -may be madeto occupy less space than before, and that compressibility,implying the closer approach of the constituent particles ofthe body, is utterly out of the question, unless empty spaceexists between these particles. We are therefore obliged toadmit that the molecules of which perceptible matter is composed, are not in immediate contact, but are separated fromeach other by enveloping tracts of unoccupied space.But no sooner do we seek refuge in this assumption thanwe are again met by difficulties no less insuperable than theone just noticed. The form of our experience of all objectscompels us to postulate that cohesive or gravitative forcesare continually urging the particles of matter toward closerB 2COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [FT. I.union, while disruptive or thermal forces are continually urging them toward wider separation. In view of this, supposewe regard matter, with Newton, as consisting of solid atoms,never absolutely contiguous to each other, but always attracting or repelling each other with a force varying inversely asthe squares of the distances between the atoms.What then is the constitution of these hypotheticalatoms? Are they divisible, or indivisible? And if divisible,what shall we say of the parts into which they are divided?Can these be again divided, and so on for ever? If we sayyes, we are speedily brought face to face with a double inconceivability. For, on the one hand, by no effort of thoughtcan we conceive the infinite divisibility of a particle ofmatter. Mentally to represent any such division wouldequire infinite time. On the other hand, granting that theparticles which we have postulated as the component unitsof matter are divisible, we have not escaped the difficultywhich confronted us at the outset. For each of theseparticles, if divisible, is a piece of matter just like the blockof metal or wood with which we set out, -only smaller insize. The particles of these particles cannot, as we haveseen, be in direct contact; then they must each be composed of several particles not in contact, but exerting ontach other attractive and repulsive forces that vary inverselywith the squares of their distances apart; and again wehave to ask of these particles, Are they divisible or indivisible? and so on, for ever.Such are the difficulties into which we are led if weassume that the atoms of which matter is composed aredivisible. Let us now assume that (as their name implies)they are indivisible. And this is, no doubt, the assumptionwhich is most congruous with the experiences of the chemist.Yet we shall find that an absolutely indivisible atom is quiteinconceivable by human intelligence. Every such atom, if itexists, must have an upper side and an under side, a right sideCH. 1.] THE RELATIVITY OF KNOWLEDGE.and a left side, or if spherical, must have a periphery that isconceived as covering some assignable area. Now by no effortof our intelligence can we imagine sides so close togetherthat no plane of cleavage can pass between them; nor canwe imagine a sphere so minute that it cannot be conceived asdivisible into hemispheres; nor can we imagine a cohesivetenacity so great that it might not be overcome by some stillgreater disruptive force such as we can equally well imagine.When we contemplate the mode in which one particle ofmatter acts upon the adjacent particles by attractive andrepulsive forces, we find ourselves equally puzzled. As Mr.Spencer well observes, " matter cannot be conceived exceptas manifesting forces of attraction and repulsion. Body isdistinguished in our consciousness from space, by its opposition to our muscular energies; and this opposition we feelunder the twofold form of a cohesion that hinders our effortsto rend, and a resistance that hinders our efforts to compress.Without resistance there can be merely empty extension."Without cohesion there can be no resistance. Thus we areobliged to think of all objects as made up of parts thatattract and repel each other; since this is the form of ourexperience of all objects. Nevertheless, however verballyintelligible may be the proposition that pressure and tensioneverywhere co- exist, yet we cannot truly represent to ourselvesone ultimate unit of matter as drawing another while resisting it."Nor is this the last of the difficulties which encumberour hypothesis of mutually-attracting and repelling particlesseparated by tracts of unoccupied space. For this hypothesisrequires us to conceive one particle acting upon anotherthrough a space that is utterly empty; and we can in nowise conceive any such action? How shall we escape thisdifficulty? Shall we assume that the intervals betweenthe particles are filled by a fluid of excessive tenuity, likethe so-called imponderable ether to which physicists are inCOSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Lthe habit of appealing?problem is only shifted. As soon as we inquire into theconstitution of this hypothetical intermolecular fluid, we areno better off than before. For we have no alternative butto regard this fluid as itself an extremely rarefied form ofmatter: since it does not perceptibly affect the weights ofbodies, we must regard it as possessed of a density that isalmost infinitesimal, —that is, its constituent particles mustbe separated from each other by regions of empty space thatare even greater in proportion to the size of the particlesthan are the spaces that intervene between the molecules ofthat relatively dense form of matter which we call ponderable. With regard to the ether, as before with regard to thematter, we have to ask, How can its particles act upon eachother through space that is utterly empty? How can a thingact where it is not? How can motion be transmitted, in theabsence of any medium of transmission? and to this questionno answer ever has been, or ever can be devised.We shall soon find that theThus, whichever horn of the dilemma we take hold of, weare sure to be gored by it. Whether we assume on the onehand that matter is absolutely solid, or on the other handthat it is absolutely porous, we are alike brought face toface with questions which we can neither solve nor elude.If now we turn from the inquiry into the ultimate constitution of that matter out of which the universe is formed, andinquire what was the origin of this universe, we shall findourselves plunged into still darker regions of incomprehen.sibility. Respecting the origin of the universe three verbally.intelligible hypotheses may be formed. We may say, withthe Atheist, that the universe is self- existing; or, with thePantheist, that it is self-created; or, with the Theist, that it iscreated by an external agency. Let us examine these threepropositions severally, not with the view of determiningwhich of them is true, but with the view of determiningwhether any one of them is comprehensible.CH. 1.] THE RELATIVITY OF KNOWLEDGE.Philosophically speaking, then, we must admit that,whether or not the Atheistic hypothesis of a self- existentuniverse be assumed as true, it is at any rate incomprehensible. We can form no genuine conception answering to thephrase "self- existence." For by self-existence we clearlymean existence which is not dependent on any extraneousexistence; which is not conditioned or determined by anycause. The assertion of self-existence is the denial of causation; and when we deny causation we also deny commencement, inasmuch as to suppose that there was a time whenthe existence commenced is to admit that the commencementof the existence was determined by some cause; which iscontrary to our hypothesis. In order, therefore, to conceiveself-existence, we must conceive existence throughout infinitepast time; and to do this manifestly exceeds our powers.IfThe Pantheistic hypothesis of self-creation is similarly incomprehensible. Self- creation, equally with self- existence,excludes the idea of any extraneous determining cause.the passage of the universe from non-existence, or frompotential existence, into actual existence, were determined byany extrinsic cause, manifestly it would not be self-created.Nevertheless, to suppose that existence, after remaining for along period in one form, suddenly took on of its own accordanother form, requires us to imagine a change without anycause, which is impossible.Of the Theistic hypothesis, also, we must perforce admit,that, whatever may be urged in favour of our accepting it asa help to our thinking, it is no less incomprehensible thanthe other two. In the first place, the creation of somethingout of nothing is a process which we are wholly incapable ofrepresenting in thought. In the second place, granting thatthe universe was made from nothing by an external agency,we are compelled to ask whence came this agency? Wemust either admit for it another extrinsic cause still furtherback, and so on for ever; or we must regard it as selfCOSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [FT, L.existing, in which case we are again brought face to face withthe same ultimate difficulties which attend upon the atheistichypothesis. For, as Mr. F. W. Newman observes, " a Goduncaused and existing from eternity is quite as incomprehensibie as a world uncaused and existing from eternity." Whichconception is the more likely to be true, I repeat, does notfor the present concern us. What we have now to notice ismerely the incapacity of the human intellect for realizingeither the one or the other. In spite of their great apparentdiversity, the atheistic, pantheistic and theistic hypothesesall contain, in one form or another, the same fundamentalaзsumption. Sooner or later they all require us to conceivesome form of existence which has had neither cause norbeginning; and to do this is impossible..Nevertheless, in spite of the impossibility of conceivingit, this fundamental assumption is one which we are compelled to adopt, unless we abstain from theorizing altogetherupon the subject. For it is impossible to enter into anyinquiry concerning causation without eventually postulatingsome First Cause. We are obliged to do so from sheerinability to follow out in thought an infinite series of causes.Assuming, then, the existence of a First Cause, let usinquire for a moment into its nature. The First Cause mustbe infinite. For if we regard it as finite, we regard it asbounded or limited, and are thus compelled to think of aregion beyond its limits, which region is uncaused. And ifwe admit this, we virtually abandon the doctrine of causation altogether. We therefore have no alternative but toregard the First Cause as infinite.We are no less irresistibly compelled to regard the FirstCause as independent. For if it be dependent, that onwhich it depends must be the First Cause. The First Causecan therefore have no necessary relation to any other formof Being; since if the presence of any other form ofexistence is necessary to its completeness, it is partiallyCH. I.] THE RELATIVITY OF KNOWLEDGE.dependent upon such other form of existence, and cannot bethe First Cause. Thus the First Cause, besides being infinitemust be complete in itself, existing independently of allrelations, that is, it must be absolute.To such conclusions, following the most refined metaphysical philosophy of the day, are we easily led. By thevery limitations of our faculties, we are compelled to thinkof a First Cause of all phenomena; and we are compelled tothink of it as both infinite and absolute.Nevertheless, it will not be difficult to show that such aconclusion is utterly illusive; and that in joining together thethree conceptions of Cause, of Infinite, and of Absolute, wehave woven for ourselves a network of contradictions moreformidable, more disheartening than any that we have yetbeen required to contemplate.For, in the first place, that which is a cause cannot at thesame time be absolute. For the definition of the Absolute isthat which exists out of all relations; whereas a cause notonly sustains some definite relation to its effect, but it exists,as a cause, only by virtue of such relation. Suppress theeffect, and the cause has ceased to be a cause. The phrase"Absolute Cause," therefore, which is equivalent to " nonrelative Cause," is like the phrase " circular triangle." Thetwo words stand for conceptions which cannot be made tounite. "We attempt," says Mr. Mansel, " to escape from thisapparent contradiction by introducing the idea of successionin time. The Absolute exists first by itself, and afterwardsbecomes a Cause. But here we are checked by the thirdconception, that of the Infinite. How can the Infinitebecome that which it was not from the first? If causationis a possible mode of existence, that which exists withoutcausing is not infinite; that which becomes a cause haspassed beyond its former limits. "But supposing all these obstacles overcome, so that wemight frame a valid conception of a Cause which is also10 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. L.•Absolute and Infinite: have we then explained the origin ofthe universe? Have we advanced one step toward explaininghow the Absolute can be the source of the Relative, or howthe Infinite can give rise to the Finite? To continue withMr. Mansel, " if the condition of causal activity is a higherstate than that of quiescence, the Absolute . . . . haspassed from a condition of comparative imperfection to oneof comparative perfection; and therefore was not originallyperfect. If the state of activity is an inferior state to thatof quiescence, the Absolute, in becoming a cause, has lost itsoriginal perfection. There remains only the supposition thatthe two states are equal, and the act of creation one of complete indifference. But this supposition annihilates theunity of the Absolute."These examples must suffice for my present purpose, whichis to illustrate and enforce, at the beginning of our investigation, the doctrine of the Relativity of Knowledge. Theyconstitute but a small, though an important, portion of themass of evidence which might be alleged. The history ofmetaphysical speculation-if we leave out of the account allpsychological inquiry, which is a very different matter—islittle else than the history of a series of persistent attemptsto frame tenable hypotheses concerning the origin of theuniverse, the nature of its First Cause, and the ultimate constitution of the matter which it contains. History teachesus that all such attempts have failed; and furnishes us withample inductive or empirical evidence that the human mindis incapable of attaining satisfactory conclusions concerningthe First Cause, the Infinite, the Absolute, or the intimatenature of things. We accordingly say for brevity s sake thatwe cannot know the Absolute, but only the Relative; and insaying so, we implicitly assert two practical conclusions:-First, we cannot know things as they exist independentlyof our intelligence, but only as they exist in relation to ourintelligence.VH. I. ] THE RELATIVITY OF KNOWLEDGE. IISecondly, the possibilities of thought are not identical orcoextensive with the possibilities of things. A propositionis not necessarily true because we can clearly conceive itsterms; nor is a proposition necessarily untrue because itcontains terms which are to us inconceivable.¹This great truth, which I have thus illustrated by a fewempirical examples, must now be illustrated deductively. Itmust be shown how the impossibility of knowing or conceiving anything save the Relative results from the veryconstitution of our minds-from the very manner in whichour thinking takes place. And this may be shown by severaldistinct lines of argument.In the first place, all knowing is classifying. What do wemean when we say that any given phenomenon has beenexplained? We mean simply that it has been ranked alongwith similar phenomena which, having previously beengrouped together, are said to be understood. For example,in walking out some clear November evening, your attentionis arrested by a bright, but suddenly vanishing track of lightacross the sky, which you recognize as the appearance ofa "falling-star." In doubt, perhaps, as to the true explanation of this phenomenon, you appeal to some astronomer, whotells you that a zone of planetary matter encircles the sun;that the course of this zone, lying near the course of theearth's orbit and not being concentric with it, must intersectit at sundry points; and that when, at certain seasons of the1 Hence, as will appear more fully hereafter, we have no criterion of abso- lute or objective truth. But it will also appear that, in the realm of phenomena, with which alone are we practically concerned in forming the conclu- sions which make up our common- sense, our science, and our philosophy,we do possess a valid criterion of relative truth in the test of inconceivability. A proposition concerning phenomena, which contains an incon- ceivable term, is ipso facto a proposition without a basis in cur experience of phenomena, and is accordingly inadmissible. But a proposition concerningnoumena, which contains an inconceivable term, is entirely out of relation vith experience , since we have no experience of noumena; and we haveaccordingly no means of judging whether it is true or not. This is what is meant by the statement in the text.12 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY [PT. L. .vear, such intersection occurs, the gravitative force of theearth pulls down some of the fragments constituting thiszone, and unites them with its own mass. That is to say, heranks the phenomenon which is to be explained along withthe more familiar phenomena of heavy bodies which circulateabout a vast central mass, and which, by their gravitativepower, draw to themselves whatsoever comes within a certaindistance of them. And this you feel to be a perfectly satisfactory explanation. Similarly, when Newton explained themanner in which these planets are kept revolving about thesun, he had recourse to the hypotheses of gravitation andtangential momentum. By the former he classified theunknown force which keeps the moon from flying away fromthe earth along with the familiar force which causes unsupported terrestrial bodies to fall toward the earth's centre.By the latter he classified the unknown force which keepsthe moon from tumbling down upon the earth along with thefamiliar force which urges a stone whirled at a sling's - end tofly away upon a tangent. In each case he did nothing butclassify phenomena which had hitherto remained unclassified;and this was rightly felt to be a triumphant explanation;although the ultimate nature of the forces operating remainedas mysterious as before.If now we proceed still further, and ask in what sense theforce which makes apples fall can be regarded as known byus, —we can only reply, it is not known in itself, but onlyin its manifestations throughout a number of phenomenawhich can be classed together, and any one of which is saidto be known when it is perceived to be like its congenerspreviously presented to our consciousness. We know a' hing only when we classify it in thought with some otherthing; only when we see it to be like some other thing.In short, cognition is possible only through recognition. Inthe infant, we may see that there are no cognitions until thefeelings awakened by the presence of external objects haveSH. I.] THE RELATIVITY OF KNOWLEDGE. 13been arranged into groups, so that when certain sensationsoccur they may be recognized as belonging to such or sucha group. And in the adult, as our examples already cited.suffice to show us, an object is known just in so far as theimpressions which it produces upon us can be assimilatedto previous impressions. Or if this is still not perfectlyclear, a brief citation from Mr. Spencer will make it clear."An animal hitherto unknown, though not referable to anyestablished species or genus, is yet recognized as belongingto one of the larger divisions-mammals, birds, reptiles, orfishes; or should it be so anomalous that its alliance withany of these is not determinable, it may yet be classed asvertebrate or invertebrate; or if it be one of those organismsof which it is doubtful whether the animal or vegetal characteristics predominate, it is still known as a living body;even should it be questioned whether it is organic, it remainsbeyond question that it is a material object, and it is cognizedby being recognized as such. Whence it is manifest that athing is perfectly known only when it is in all respects likecertain things previously observed; that in proportion to thenumber of respects in which it is unlike them, is the extentto which it is unknown; and that hence when it has absoiutely no attribute in common with anything else, it mustbe absolutely beyond the bounds of knowledge."1The bearing of all this upon our main thesis is so obviousas to need but the briefest mention. Manifestly the FirstCause, the Infinite, the Absolute, can be known only bybeing classified. We can conceive it at all only by conceivingit as of such or such kind-as like this or that which wehave already conceived. There can be but one First Cause;and this, being uncaused, cannot be classified with any ofthe multiplicity of things which are caused. The Infinite,again, cannot be conceived as like the Finite; nor can it beclassed with any other Infinite, since two Infinites, by mutuFirst Principles, p. 80.14 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. L.ally limiting each other, would become finite, and thusdestroy each other. And likewise the Absolute cannot,without a manifest contradiction in terms, be regarded assustaining a relation of likeness to anything else. For by thedefinition of the Absolute, it is that which exists out of allrelation. Thus by the very constitution of the knowing process, we are for ever debarred from knowing anything savethat which is caused, which is finite, and which is relative.If we start from another point of view, and contemplatethe process of knowing under a different but correlativeaspect, we shall be driven to the same inevitable conclusion.In order to know anything, we must not only recognize it aslike certain other things, but we must recognize it also asdifferent from certain other things. We cognize whiteness,not only by its likeness to the whiteness previously presentedto our consciousness, but also by its difference from redness,blueness, or blackness. If all things were white we shouldhave no knowledge of whiteness. To constitute an act ofcognition, distinction is as necessary as assimilation. AsMr. Mansel has ably shown, " The very conception of consciousness necessarily implies distinction between one objectand another. To be conscious, we must be conscious ofsomething; and that something can only be known as thatwhich it is, by being distinguished from that which it is not.But distinction is necessarily limitation; for if one objectis to be distinguished from another, it must possess someform of existence which the other has not, or it must notpossess some form which the other has. " Accordingly, if weare to conceive the First Cause at all, we must conceive itas limited; in which case it cannot be infinite: and we mustconceive it as different from other objects of cognition; inwhich case it is relative, and cannot be absolute.Finally, we cannot know the Absolute, because all knowledge is possible only in the form of a relation. There mustbe a Subject which cognizes and an Object which is cognizedOH. I.] THE RELATIVITY OF KNOWLEDGE. 18The subject is a subject only in so far as it cognizes theobject, and the object is an object only in so far as it iscognized by the subject. Eliminate either one, and the actof cognition is destroyed. Hence the Absolute, if it is tobe known, must be an object existing in relation to a subject;it cannot be known in itself, but only in its relations to theknowing mind; that is, it can be known only by ceasing tobe the Absolute.Thus by whatever road we travel, we are brought up atlast against the same impassable barrier. By no power ofconception or subtilty of reasoning can we break down orundermine the eternal wall which divides us from the knowledge of things in themselves. If we attempt to frame anyhypothesis concerning their nature, origin, or modes of action,we find ourselves speedily checkmated by alternative impossibilities. And if, resting in despair after all our effortshave proved fruitless, we inquire why this is so, we find thatfrom the very organisation of our minds, we can frame nocognition into which there do not enter the elements oflikeness, difference, and relation; so that the Absolute, whichpresents none of these elements, is utterly and for everunknowable.What is the meaning of this conclusion, when translatedfrom the metaphysical language in which I have expressedit, into language that is somewhat more familiar? It meansnot only that the Deity, in so far as absolute and infinite,is inscrutable by us, and that every hypothesis of oursconcerning its nature and attributes, can serve only to illustrate our mental impotence; but it also means much morethan this. It means that the Universe in itself is likewiseinscrutable; that the vast synthesis of forces without us,which in manifold contact with us is from infancy till theclose of life continually arousing us to perceptive activitycan never be known by us as it exists objectively, but onlyas it affects our consciousness. It means, in short, that we16 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. PT. Lcannot transcend the organically-imposed limits of our ownintelligence. We do not know matter, but we know a groupof coexistent states of consciousness which weperceptions of resistance, extension and colour, sound orodour. We do not know motion, but we know the groupof sequent states of consciousness produced by minute alterations in the muscles of the eyes, or perhaps of the tactualorgans, in the act of attending to the moving object. Nordo we know force, but we know continual modifications ofour consciousness which we are compelled to regard as themanifestations of force. Nor do we even know consciousnessabsolutely and in itself: we know only states of consciousness in their relations of coexistence and sequence, likenessand unlikeness.Although this is one of the best-established conclusions ofmodern psychology, it is still a conclusion which requiresconsiderable effort to understand in all its implications; andfor this reason, as well as on account of its supreme importance, it will be desirable briefly to illustrate it from yetanother point of view. We shall be assisted in comprehending the general truth by a set of considerations which showthat, although our internal feelings or states of consciousnessare constantly produced by external agents, yet we have nowarrant whatever for assuming that the external agent inany way resembles the internal feeling. For instance,although the feelings of redness and resistance are causedby agencies without us, we have no warrant for assumingthat the external cause of redness resembles a feeling ofredness, or that the external cause of resistance resemblesthe feeling of resistance. In other words, we know rednessand resistance only as phenomena, only as modifications ofconsciousness; and although we are compelled to refer thesephenomena to causes which exist externally and which wouldstill exist if there were no minds to be affected by them, weare nevertheless unable to assert that these external causes-CH. 1. ] THE RELATIVITY OF KNOWLEDGE. 17the real things corresponding to the phenomena of rednessand resistance,--are in any wise like the phenomena.To any one accustomed to examine these matters, such aconclusion seems much like a truism; amounting, indeed,merely to the statement that we cannot get outside of ourown minds. Nevertheless, it will perhaps not be considereda needless prolonging of the argument if I add a few concreteillustrations.In the first place, it is extremely probable that the kinds offeeling awakened by the same external cause are not quitealike in any two species of animals. When Wieniawski playshis violin in the Music Hall, his human auditors haveawakened in them those feelings which we designate as theconsciousness of musical sound; but if he were to play hisviolin over a tank containing a number of those molluskswhich have no organs of hearing, the feelings awakened inthem would be wholly different. They would feel a sort ofnervous shiver or jar, like that which our fingers experiencewhen holding a vibrating tuning- fork; and they would verylikely all shrink into their shells. In like manner, the sameexternal agents which arouse well- defined tactual feelings inus, can arouse in a lobster, whose feet and claws are encasedin a bony shell, nothing but that vague sort of tactual feelingof which we are conscious when we poke things with astick.In the second place, it is extremely probable that the subjective feelings awakened by the same external cause are notquite alike in any two individuals of the same species. Inthose persons who are troubled with Daltonism, or colourblindness, luminous undulations so different as those of redand green awaken feelings that are identical. On the otherhand, " aerial pulses recurring at the rate of 16 per second, areperceived by some as separate pulses; but by some they areperceived as a tone of very low pitch. Similarly at the otherextreme. Vibrations exceeding 30,000 per second, are inVOL. I.18 [PT. 1.COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.audible through certain ears; while through ears that are, aswe may suppose, of somewhat unlike structures, these rapidvibrations are known as an excessively acute sound. ” ¹And thirdly, let us notice a set of facts which are sofamiliar to us that we overlook their significance. " A whiffof ammonia, coming in contact with the eyes, produces asmart; getting into the nostrils, excites the consciousness wedescribe as an intolerably strong odour; being condensedon the tongue, generates an acrid taste; while ammonia,applied in solution to a tender part of the skin, makes itburn, as we say." " A vibrating tuning- fork, touched withthe fingers, gives them a sense of jar; held between the teeth,it gives this same sense to the parts in which they are embedded, while by communication through the bones of theskull, its vibrations so affect the auditory apparatus as toawaken a consciousness of sound-a consciousness whichalone results, if the tuning- fork does not touch the body.""The sun's rays falling on the hand cause a sensation of heat,but no sensation of light; and falling on the retina cause asensation of light, but no sensation of heat. " Note that inall these cases the same external cause produces widelydifferent phenomena according to the different avenuesthrough which it affects our consciousness. The externalcause cannot resemble all these phenomena, its effects; wedo not know which it resembles; what warrant have we,then, for assuming that it resembles any one of them?To these examples, culled from Mr. Spencer's " Principlesof Psychology," let me add another, which, though lessobvious, is equally striking. The compound solar ray, whenanalysed , is found to consist of three sets of relatively simple"It is probable that the antenna of insects respond to stimuli which leave us sensible, while stimuli which affect us leave them undisturbed.• We know there are a thousand tremours in the air which beat uponour ears unheard; and if more sensitive organs are capable of hearing som of these, there must be tremours which no organism can feel."-Lewes Problems ofLife and Mind, vol. i. p. 255.CH. I.] THE RELATIVITY OF KNOWLEDGE. 19rays. First, we have the visible rays of medium refrangibility, ranging from red to violet, and sometimes called theNewtonic rays. Beyond the violet, in the outlying portionsof the spectrum, lie the so-called Ritteric rays, of greatestrefrangibility, which are not visible, but are manifestedthrough their actinic or chemical effects; these are the rayswith which we photograph. Beyond the red, at the otherend of the spectrum, lie the so- called Herschellic rays, ofleast refrangibility, which also are not visible, but are manifested through their thermal effects. These invisible raysdiffer from the visible physically, only by their differentperiods of motion or wave-lengths, in which respect thevisible rays differ also among themselves, as is indicated bytheir different colours. Bearing this in mind, let us contemplate the remarkable series of effects produced in ourconsciousness by gradually increasing rates of vibration inthe particles of matter. Vibrations occurring less frequentlythan 16 times in a second, produce in us the consciousness ofa succession of noises. Vibrations which occur oftener than16 times, but less often than 30,000 times, in a second,produce in us the consciousness of musical notes, which arehigher and higher in pitch as the vibrations are more rapid.Vibrations occurring oftener than 30,000 times, but less oftenthan 458,000,000,000,000 times, in a second, do not affect usthrough the ears, but the more rapid ones affect us throughthe nerves of the skin, and produce in us the consciousness ofheat. Vibrations occurring at the rate of 458,000,000,000,000in a second, affect us through the eyes, and produce in us theconsciousness of red light; at the rate of 577,000,000,000,000in a second, they produce in us the consciousness of greenLight; at the rate of 727,000,000,000,000 in a second, theyproduce in us the consciousness of violet light. At stillhigher rates than this, they cease to affect us through theeyes, and indeed produce in us no definite state of consciousness at all, though they may be remotely concerned in keepC 280 [PT. I,COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.ing up that vague organic feeling of bien- être or pleasurableexistence, which is in part due to the indirect effects of theRitteric portion of the solar rays upon the chemical actionsgoing on throughout our bodies. Here, then, we have oneand the same external agency-vibrations among particles ofmatter-producing in us feelings so different as those of sound,heat, and light. And when it is asked which of these feelingsthe external cause resembles, is not the answer sufficientlyobvious that in all probability it resembles none of them,and is comparable with none of them? May we not clearlysee that what appears to us as a series of widely - distinguished phenomena may after all correspond to a set ofobjective realities between which there is no such widedistinction? And do we need any more evidence to convinceus that phenomena-by which I mean the effects producedupon our consciousness by unknown external agencies—areall that we can compare and classify, and are therefore allthat we can know?Perhaps, however, it may still appear that, in the illustration just cited, we have assumed a knowledge of the externalcause, to a certain extent. In asserting that the feelings ofsound, of heat, and of light, are alike caused by vibrationsamong particles of matter, we may perhaps seem to implythat we do know these vibrations, and we may be suspectedof formulating the various states of consciousness in question,in terms of the objective reality. But a moment's reflectionwill convince us that this is not the case. After the illustrationwith which this chapter opened, it is hardly necessary to saythat the knowledge of a vibration of particles as an objectivereality, is utterly unattainable by us. We reach the concep11 In his paper on " Hibernicisms in Philosophy " (Contemporary Review,January 1872, p. 147), the Duke of Argyll himself commits the following exquisite bull "We now know what light is in itself' -that is to say, weknow the nature and constitution of it, not in terms of the sensation it givesto us, but in terms ofa wholly different order of conception. " The italics aremine.CH. L.] THE RELATIVITY OF KNOWLEDGE. 21tion of a vibration of particles only by inference from thestates of consciousness aroused in us by visible or palpablevibrations. Certain subjective experiences of undulatorymovement, as when a pebble is dropped into still water, or aswhen a string is made fast by one end and twitched at theother, beget in us the conception of vibration; and this conception we transfer in thought to those molecules and atomsof which we believe material bodies to be constituted. So far,then, from interpreting our feelings of light, heat, and sound,in terms of the objective reality, we have merely been interpreting certain states of consciousness in terms of other states.Or, to put the same statement into different language, we haveregarded the phenomena of sound, heat, light, and actinism,as adequately explained, when we have classified them withcertain other phenomena of vibratory motion. We merelyaffirm that a cause which, under a given set of conditions,will produce certain states of consciousness within us, will,under a different set of conditions, produce certain otherstates of consciousness. Concerning the nature of the cause,whether we call it vibration, or are content to go on calling itheat or light, we affirm nothing, and can know nothing.CHAPTER II,THE SCOPE OF PHILOSOPHY.IN setting forth and illustrating the conclusion that we canonly know that which is caused, which is finite, and which inrelative, we have virtually rejected as impracticable and usless a large number of the inquiries with which philosoplyhas habitually concerned itself. Both by practical examples,and by a series of mutually-harmonious deductions from themode in which our intelligence works, as revealed to us bypsychologic analysis, it has been shown that we are for everdebarred from any knowledge of the Absolute, the Infinite, orthe Uncaused; that we can affirm nothing whatever conceruing the ultimate nature of Matter or Mind; and that all ourknowledge consists in the classification of states of consciousness produced in us by unknown external agencies. Nevertheless from the earliest times, philosophy has busied itselfin attempts to reach tenable conclusions respecting the natureand attributes of the absolute and infinite First Cause; it hasever tacitly assumed that the ultimate nature of Matter aswell as of Mind constitutes a legitimate subject of investigation; and that from the knowledge formed by the organizedexperience of recurring states of consciousness, we can insome mysterious way rise to a so-called higher grade ofknowledge, in which realities no less than phenomena mayJH. 11.] THE SCOPE OF PHILOSOPHY. 23become the object of thought. The earliest philosophicspeculations of the Greeks dealt almost exclusively withthe origin of the Universe, and the nature of its πράτη aρxnor First Cause, or with just such theories of the ultimateconstitution of matter as we saw in the previous chapterleading us to alternative impossibilities of thought. In theParmenides and Sophistes of Plato we may find, presented withunrivalled acuteness, though rendered dreary by endlessverbal quibbling, many of the same inquiries concerning thenature of the Absolute which we have been led to condemn asimpracticable. Is the Absolute One or Many? Is the OneFinite or is it Infinite? And these inquiries, in the firstnamed dialogue, lead up to the same sort of startlingparadoxes which we have already signalized as the inevitableoutcome of speculation upon such subjects. In his firstargument, Parmenides demonstrates that the One is neitherin itself nor in anything else, neither at rest nor in motion,neither the same with itself nor different from itself. In hissecond argument, he demonstrates that the One is both initself and in other things, both at rest and in motion, both thesame with itself and different from itself. That is, while hisfirst demonstration denies both of two opposite and mutuallydestructive propositions, his second affirms them both.There is no doubt that after Plato's time the Greeks felt,though they did not distinctly comprehend, the futility ofsuch inquiries. By the successors of Plato, philosophy wasbrought into a state of more or less complete scepticism as tothe possibility of any trustworthy knowledge whatever. "Weassert nothing,—not even that we assert nothing," was theextravagant dictum of one of the later schools of Greekphilosophy. And finally philosophy ceased from its independent inquiries, being merged in theology by Proklos, who,hopeless of attaining absolute knowledge by any exertion ofJhe intellectual powers, was driven to assert the existenceof a divine supernatural light, by which the soul being24 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. I.irradiated might thus alone catch glimpses of the externalreality.The later career of philosophy furnishes us with the samekind of illustrations as its earlier stages. After its revivalin the Middle Ages, philosophy again proceeded to treat ofthe same kind of questions as those which had baffled thekeenest and most subtle intellects of antiquity. In the eagerscrutiny of the nature of things, the scholastic metaphysiciansthought little of ascertaining the relations of coexistence andsuccession among phenomena. Their disputes were aboutquiddities, entities, occult virtues, and efficient causes. Norin modern times do we find that philosophy has been at alldisposed to recognize the limits which we have here foundourselves obliged to impose upon it. On the other hand,modern metaphysicians have generally proceeded upon thetacit assumption that the possibilities of thought are coextensive with the possibilities of things, and that any trainof propositions which can be clearly conceived and logicallyconcatenated, must be true. It was upon this assumptionthat Malebranche founded his theory of Occasional Causes,and Leibnitz his doctrine of Pre-established Harmony. Itwas upon this that Spinoza constructed a theory of theuniverse, the most gigantic in conception, and the mostunflinchingly logical in execution, of all metaphysicaltheories. Upon this also, rests the Kantian doctrine ofNecessary Truths; and upon this most treacherous foundation has been more recently built the lofty but unstablestructure of Hegelism.Since Bacon's time, it is true, there have appeared-for themost part in England-a number of eminent thinkers, who,asserting the relativity of human knowledge, and avowedlyrenouncing the attempt to solve the mysteries of objectiveexistence, have occupied themselves with psychological problems. To these thinkers-Hobbes, Locke, Berkeley, HumeHartley, Brown, James Mill, Hamilton, and Mansel—a largeBH. II.] THE SCOPE OF PHILOSOPHY. 25proportion of the conceptions now current and dominant inphilosophy are due. Nevertheless, as we shall see by and bye,even these philosophers have not always made their practicecoincide with their preaching. Though they have asserted,and were indeed the first to assert clearly, the doctrine oftheRelativity of Knowledge, they did not always carry in theirminds its full import; and were betrayed not unfrequentlyinto making statements which imply that the possibilities ofthought are coextensive with the possibilities of things.It may appear, therefore, that in our rigorous denial of thepossibility of absolute knowledge, we shall not have thecountenance of the most eminent philosophers who havelived. It may be thought that their works will testify againstus. We shall perhaps be accused of regarding the noble laboursof so many generations of gifted thinkers as a mere impracticable striving after that which no striving can procure, -asthe crying of infants for the moon, or as the groping of thealchemist for the philosopher's stone. And it will no doubtbe indignantly asked, by what title do we pretend to philosophize at all? In rejecting as for ever insoluble so large a· proportion of the inquiries with which philosophy has untillately busied itself, do we not virtually declare philosophyto be antiquated and useless?To neither of these accusations can we consent to pleadguilty. In replying to the first, it may indeed be grantedthat those who rigorously maintain that Absolute Being isunknowable, will naturally regard the labours of Plato andSpinoza, and Hegel, as a vain seeking after that which cannotbe found. But it does not follow that such seeking is to becondemned as worthless. It was only after many attemptshad failed, that we could learn that the failure was due notto curable but to incurable weakness.¹ It was only after all"The study of the master-minds of the human race is almost equally instructive in what they achieved and in what they failed to achieve; and speculations which are far from solving the riddle of existence have their useteaching us why it is insoluble. "-Mansel, Metaphysics, p. 23.COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [FT. Lpossible devices of attack had proved fruitless, that we couldrealize the truth that we had been assailing an inexpugnablefortress. Had we not been taught by many a bitter defeat,we should never have learned the real extent of our powers.Had not metaphysics reared many an apparently- solid edifice,which fell into unshapely ruin at the first rude blast ofcriticism, psychology might never have troubled itself toexamine the soil upon which all such edifices must befounded. Nay, it may be truly said, that though philosophershave failed in what they have consciously attempted, theyhave nevertheless unwittingly achieved a result greaterthan any of those which they have sought to obtain. Bytheir long career of heroic defeat, they have furnished uswith a concrete demonstration, almost superfluously ample, ofthe relativity of human knowledge. By exhausting allpossible hypotheses respecting the objective reality, they havemade it apparent that no tenable hypothesis can be framed.In the very failure to obtain one kind of truth, they havedemonstrated for us a truth of another sort,-a truth whichmust for the future lie at the bottom of all successful research.Is not this then a worthy result? Remembering how steepand laborious is the path of human progress, is not thedefinite establishment of one fundamental truth like theRelativity of Knowledge an achievement worthy to crown.the efforts of twenty-five centuries? Shall it take two orthree generations of weary experimenting to bring intoexistence some incarnation of material force like the steamengine, and may it not take a hundred generations for thehuman mind to ascertain for itself experimentally what it canknow and what it cannot know?To the second accusation we may return a straightforwarddenial. In asserting the impossibility of acquiring absoluteknowledge, or of ascertaining aught respecting the nature ofmind and matter and the origin of the universe, we do notdethrone Philosophy; we do not condemn it as antiquatedB. II.] THE SCOPE OF PHILOSOPHY. 27and useless; we do not leave it nothing with which to occupyitself. On the contrary, we do but enthrone it more securelythan ever; and we leave it in possession of quite as goodly arealm as that in which our metaphysical predecessors wouldfain have established it.In order to show how this can be true, it will be necessayfor me to define, somewhat at length, the Scope of Philosophy,-to indicate the nature of the inquiries with whichphilosophy may profitably be concerned. And since philosophy may be correctly though rudely defined as a kind ofknowledge, it will first be desirable to indicate the essentialdistinctions between the different orders of knowledge, -toshow in what respect philosophy differs from science, and inwhat respect both philosophy and science differ from thatcomparatively imperfect kind of knowledge which is thecommon property of uncultivated minds.Though science has been often vaguely supposed to besomething generically distinct from ordinary knowledge, yetthe briefest consideration will suffice to show us that this isnot the case, but that scientific knowledge is only a higherdevelopment of the common information of average minds.In the first place we shall see that the process gone through,and the results attained by the process, are not genericallydifferent in scientific and in ordinary thinking.All knowledge whatever is, as we have seen, a classification of experiences. No intelligence or intelligent action ispossible unless the distinctions among surrounding phenomenabe detected and registered in the mind. Even the lowestanimal can only preserve its existence on condition thatdifferent external agencies shall affect it in different ways, -that different sets of circ*mstances shall cause it to put forthcorrespondingly different sets of correlated actions. Perhapsit is sufficient for these simply constituted creatures todistinguish between the organic and inorganic matters presentin their environment, or between light and darkness, as we28 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. L·see a freshwater polyp seek the darkest corner of a vesselexposed to direct sunlight. Among the higher animalspossessed of developed organs of sense and of relativelycomplex nervous systems, the classifying process is carried tomuch greater completeness. Along with a tolerably wideset of distinctions between various classes of plants andweaker animals that are more or less useful and desirable asfood, and between various classes of inorganic phenomenathat are serviceable or dangerous, and of stronger animalsthat are to be dreaded as enemies,-there is also a clearperception of the distinct modes of action involved in theacquisition of desired objects, and in the escape from menacingdangers; forming an aggregate of knowledge which impliesquite an extensive comparison and classification of experiences. Besides all this, there is a set of special distinctions between special orders of phenomena, between thevarious kinds and degrees of sound, odour and temperature,which in some cases exceed in discriminative accuracy any ofthe corresponding empirical distinctions which the humanmind is able to recognize. And in the dog, who has fromtime immemorial been the friend and servant of man, thereis superadded to all this a rudimentary moral classification ofactions as praiseworthy or blameworthy, as is seen, for instance,in his guilty attitude when detected in committing a raidupon some neighbouring sheepfold. Coming lastly to man,but little illustration will be needed to show that his acquisition of knowledge is in like manner the progressive establishment of distinctions. The supremely important knowledgewhich we acquire during early infancy consists in the mentalgrouping of objects according to their various properties; inthe gradual recognition of distinctions between hardness andsoftness, sweetness and acidity, rigidity and elasticity, roughness and smoothness, humidity and dryness, roundness andangularity, between various shades and intensities of temper.ature, of sound, and of colour,-between matter which resistsCH. 11.] THE SCOPE OF PHILOSOPHY. 29and space which does not resist. Later in life, our intellectualeducation consists still in the progressive grouping of experiences. That portion of it which we habitually designateas practical consists in the more and more complete distribution of ends (as variously desirable or undesirable), and ofthe relations between ends and means; while the educationwhich we more especially characterize as theoretical consistsin the more and more complete distribution of our acquirednotions into well-defined groups, mathematical, physical, orphysiological, legal or ethical. He who has so aistinctlyclassified his experiences of the connections between certaincourses of action and the resulting feelings of happiness ormisery that he can usually decide upon any line of conductwith a clear perception of its consequences, is what we call aprudent man, or a man of sound judgment. While, as Mr.Mill has somewhere observed, that man is most completelyeducated who has the clearest sense of the connotations ofthe words which he uses; who understands most thoroughlyand feels most keenly the fine shades of distinction betweenallied groups of conceptions, which less perfectly educatedpersons are liable to confuse together and to reason about asif they constituted but a single group. Such a man possesseswhat Sainte- Beuve calls the sense of nuance; an intellectualcharacteristic which is, perhaps, nowhere more habituallyexemplified than in the charming pages of that most consummate of critics.And this leads me to observe-what indeed the whole ofthe above survey implies-that since knowledge is classificaion, the completeness of the classification varies with thedegree of intelligence. Minds in a low stage of developmentcan distinguish only between widely-contrasted phenomena.The classifications of which they are capable consist of butfew groups, indefinite in their extent and incoherent in theirmaterials; while the progressive increase of intelligenceconsists in the progressive establishment of sub- classes of30 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. 1.phenomena, that are continually less and less widely contrasted, that are more and more accurately defined in theirlimits and more and more coherent in their materials. Andthe ultimate perfection of knowledge would be the recognition of all the distinctions which exist between phenomena,and the consequent establishment of classes whose memberswould be completely alike among themselves, while unlikethe members of all other classes. Manifestly such knowledgewould be, in the fullest sense of the term, scientificknowledge; which is thus seen to be merely a higher andmore complex development not only of the knowledge ofordinary matters which we do not regard as scientific, but ofthe rudimentary knowledge possessed by infants, by savages,and by the lower animals. The dog or lion has no doubtestablished in his mind the distinction between the brightsky of day, illuminated by a single dazzling orb, and thepale sky of night, spangled with a multitude of twinklingpoints. The savage who in his nocturnal prowlings guideshimself by the stars has rudely classified these objectsin their relations of position. The shepherds of Mesopotamiaand the agriculturists of Attika superadded the distinctionsbetween stars which regularly traverse the same apparentpaths and stars which pursue an erratic course; and in theirclassifications of stars according to their times of rising andsetting we have an example of a rudely- scientific method ofproceeding. Finally by the modern astronomer the heavenlybodies are minutely classified according to their mutualrelations as suns, planets, or satellites; according to theirvisible magnitudes, or the angles which they subtend on thefield of vision; according to their orbital courses, theirangular velocities, their axial inclinations, their specificgravities, etc., wherever these have been ascertained; andlately in some few instances, according to their physical constitutions in so far as light has been thrown upon this pointby spectrum-analysis. In like manner the lowest savagetx. II. ]THE SCOPE OF PHILOSOPHY. 81has noted the wide contrast between plants and animals;and in each of these great groups has furthermore madesub-classes comprising respectively those which are useful asfood or as medicine for wounds, and those which are to beshunned as poisonous or otherwise dangerous. While, onthe other hand, the scientific naturalist divides and subdividesuntil he acquires distinct conceptions of thousands of speciesof insects, and ranks trees in separate classes according tothe myriad-fold shapes of their leaves, the spiral arrangement of their branches, the number of their cotyledons, orthe mode of disposition of their woody fibre.?? ...All this will appear in a still clearer light when weremember that the various processes which we habituallygroup together under the name of " reasoning " are all ofthem acts of classification. "The savage, having by experience discovered a relation between a certain object anda certain act, infers that the like relation will be found infuture cases." When in consequence of some of theproperties of a body, we attribute to it all those properties invirtue of which it is referred to a particular class, the act isan act of inference. " The forming of a generalization is theputting together in one class all those cases which presentlike relations; while the drawing a deduction is essentiallythe perception that a particular case belongs to a certainclass of cases previously generalized. So that, as classification is a grouping together of like things, reasoning is a grouping together of like relations among things. And while theperfection gradually achieved in classification consists in theformation of groups of objects which are completely alike,the perfection gradually achieved in reasoning consists in theformation of groups of cases which are completely alike." ¹Since knowledge consists in classifying, it follows conversely that ignorance consists in inability to classify-inthe failure to group together similar phenomena; and thatSpencer's Essays, 1st series, p. 189.32 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. PT. Lerror consists in wrongly classifying, in the grouping togetherof phenomena which are really distinct. When we say thata child is ignorant that nitric acid will burn, we mean thathe has never ranked together the like cases of a fingerimmersed in nitric acid and a finger thrust against heatedmetal. When we say that the ancients were in ignoranceconcerning the force which keeps the planets in their orbits,we mean that they did not know what that force is likethat they had never grouped together the like cases of theearth attracting the moon and the earth attracting an apple.And when we say that they were in error in attributing themoon's motion to the volition of a presiding goddess, wemean that they grouped together the unlike cases of themotion of a heavenly body through the sky and the motionof a chariot driven by its charioteer along the ground.SɔSowhen we say that we do not fully understand the coronalflames and other singular phenomena presented by theeclipsed sun, we mean that we have not yet entirely succeeded in grouping them with other phenomena of whichwe have heretofore had experience. And when we say thatwe cannot now or at any future time know the Absolute,we mean that there is not now and never can be, anythinggiven in our experience with which we can classify it.Having thus, at the risk of tediousness, shown in detailthe essential identity of the processes involved in scienceand in ordinary knowledge, let us go on to enumerate therespects in which science differs from ordinary knowledge,bearing in mind as we proceed that such distinctions canonly hold good to a certain extent. They are not differencesof kind, but differences of degree.In the first place we may say that science differs fromordinary knowledge in its power of quantitative prevision-ofassigning beforehand the precise amount of effect which willbe produced by a given amount of cause. Mere previsionis not, as is sometimes assumed, peculiar to science. WeCB. II.] THE SCOPE OF PHILOSOPHY. 33frequently hear it assigned, as the distinguishing characteristic of scientific knowledge, that it enables us to predict;and the infallibility of the predictions of science is commonlyalluded to as among its greatest triumphs. Nevertheless,when the schoolboy throws a stone into the air, he can predict its fall as certainly as the astronomer can predict therecurrence of an eclipse; but his prevision, though certain,is rude and indefinite. The servant-girl has no need ofchemistry to teach her that, when the match is applied, thefire will burn and smoke ascend the chimney; but she is farfrom being able to predict the proportional weights of oxygenand carbon which will unite, the volume of the gases whichare to be given off, or the intensity of the radiation which isto warm the room. Her prevision is qualitative, not quantitative in its character: she can foresee the kind of effect, butnot its amount.A moment's reflection, however, will show us that thisstatement, as it stands, does not convey the whole truth. Itis not quite true that our servant-girl can foresee the kind ofeffect. She can foresee a part of it: she can tell us that thewood will burn, but she will know nothing about the unionof oxygen with carbon; and will thus illustrate the superiority of science even with respect to qualitative prevision.On the other hand, she can, after a rude fashion, foresee theamount of effect which will follow her proceedings; sinceshe can, if intelligent, estimate the amount of fuel whichwill be required to produce a comfortable warmth. So thesavage can estimate the amount of tension which he mustimpart to his bow in order to send his arrow to the requisitedistance. Thus we see that, even with respect to quantitativeprevision, science can be distinguished from ordinary knowledge only by the superior accuracy and greater extent towhich it carries such prevision. Just this same difference ofdegree between science and ordinary knowledge constitutesalso the chief difference between the more developed and theVOL. I. D81 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Iless developed sciences. The sciences which have arrivedat the highest perfection are those which have carried quantitative prevision to the farthest extent. Between astronomy,which can foretell the precise moment at which a solareclipse will begin a hundred thousand years hence, andmeteorology, which cannot surely foretell from week to weekthe state of the weather, there is an almost immeasurabledifference in scientific completeness . The chemist can predict the exact quantity of effect which will be produced bymingling a new substance with any given compound, theproperties of which have been studied; while the physiologist cannot surely predict the exact amount of effect whichwill be produced by a drug that is introduced into theorganism; and we accordingly consider chemistry a muchmore advanced science than physiology. And lastly, let usnote that the date which we habitually assign for the commencement of any science is the date at which its previsionsbegan to assume a definitely quantitative character. Dynamics is said to have become a science when Galileo determined the increment of velocity of falling bodies. Chemistrybecame a science when Lavoisier, De Morveau, and Daltondiscovered the exact proportions in which the most important chemical combinations take place. No science ofheat was possible until the invention of the thermometerenabled men to measure the degrees of temperature. Therewas no science of optics until it had been ascertained thatthe sines of the angles of incidence and reflection or refracion bear to each other a constant ratio. And with Mr.Joule's discovery that a certain number of degrees of heat isequivalent to a certain amount of mechanical motion, therebecomes possible a science of thermodynamics which shallexpress by a single set of formulas the activities of forcesh*therto treated as generically different.The second difference of degree between science andordinary knowledge consists in the greater remoteness of the■. II.] THE SCOPE OF PHILOSOPHY. 35relations of likeness and unlikeness which science detectsand classifies. The child who, when an orange is presentedto him, infers that on sucking it he shall experience apleasant taste; the savage who, finding the half- eatencarcass of a sheep, concludes that a lion has been in theneighbourhood; and Leverrier, who, noticing that the observed motions of Uranus do not coincide with its motionsas predicted, suspects the existence of a still remoter planetwhich disturbs it-go, all of them, through what is essentially the same process. The child has mentally groupedtogether the attributes of an orange; and when certainmembers of the group-as the shape and colour are afterwards presented to his consciousness, there occurs a mentalrepresentation of the remaining member-the agreeabletaste. The savage, from direct or hearsay experience, hasgrouped together many cases of the eating of sheep by lions,and from the presence of a certain number of the customaryphenomena, he classifies this new case with his alreadyformed group of cases; he assigns for the phenomenon acause like the causes which he has known. The astronomer has linked indissolubly in his mind the phenomenaof celestial motions with the phenomena of gravitative force,and has grouped many cases in which such force, brought tobear on a planet from different quarters, causes irregularitiesof motion. When, therefore, in the instance before him,after calculating the resultant of all the known forces inoperation, he finds a residuum of motion which is unaccounted for, what does he do? He infers a like force as thecause of the residuary motion; and since there is no forcewithout matter, he infers the existence of planetary matterother than the planetary matter already taken into account.He enlarges his group of cases in which planets perturb eachother's courses, by admitting a hypothetical like case; andforthwith proceeds to calculate, from the amount of residuarymotion, the size, distance, and orbit of the unknown planetD 236 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. L.Nothing can better illustrate the statement that scientificand ordinary knowledge are alike in kind, while different indegree. While the processes gce through by the child, thesavage, and the astronomer, are manifestly the same, theimmeasurable difference in the complication of the processesis equally manifest. While the inference in the one case ismade instantaneously, so as almost to seem a part of theoriginal perception, and while it admits of verification by aseries of simple acts, -in the other case the inference is onewhich depends ultimately upon a long chain of dependentpropositions, and the task of verifying it mathematically isexceedingly complicated and difficult. Thus to our statement, that science differs from ordinary knowledge in thedefiniteness of its previsions, we have to add that it differsalso in the remoteness and complexity of its previsions.Thirdly, science differs from ordinary knowledge in thegreater generality of the relations which it classifies. Andthis continuous increase in generality is one of the moststriking characteristics of advancing science. " From theparticular case of the scales, the law of equilibrium of whichwas familiar to the earliest nations known, Archimedesadvanced to the more general case of the unequal lever withunequal weights; the law of equilibrium of which includesthat of the scales. By the help of Galileo's discovery concerning the composition of forces, D'Alembert established forthe first time the equations of equilibrium of any system offorces applied to the different points of a solid body—equations which include all cases of levers and an infinity of casesbesides." But, as Comte observes, "before hydrostaticscould be comprehended under statics, it was necessary thatthe abstract theory of equilibrium should be made so generalas to apply directly to fluids as well as solids. This wasaccomplished when Lagrange supplied, as the basis of thewhole of mechanics, the single principle of virtual velocities,"-or the principle that whenever weights balance each other,CH. II.] THE SCOPE OF PHILOSOPHY. 37"the relation of one set of weights to their velocities equalsthe relation of the other set of velocities to their weights."So geometry in ancient times treated of questions relating toparticular figures; but since the great discovery of Descartes,it has dealt with questions relating to any figure whatever.So, in the progress of analytical mathematics, we have firstarithmetic which " can express in one formula the value ofa particular tangent to a particular curve; " and, at a laterdate, algebra, which can express in one formula the values ofall possible tangents to a particular curve; and, at a stilllater date, the calculus, which can express in one formulathe values of all possible tangents to all possible curves.¹Fourthly, science is continually more and more clearlydifferentiated from ordinary knowledge by the continuallyincreasing abstractness of the relations which it classifies.This proposition is involved in the preceding one. Forclearly the progress towards higher and higher generality isthe progress towards a knowledge more and more independent of special circ*mstances-towards a study of thephenomena most completely disengaged from the incidents ofparticular cases.And finally science differs from ordinary knowledge in itshigher degree of organization—in the far greater extent towhich it carries the process of coordinating groups of likeorders of relations, and subordinating groups of higher andlower orders of relations. This we habitually regard as sucha fundamental characteristic of scientific knowledge that wegrant the title of science to some departments of inquirywhich possess it, in spite of the fact that the only previsionwhich is possible in them is neither certain nor quantitative.Take, for instance, the case of biology. If quantitative prevision were the only thing which distinguishes science, wecould hardly pretend to possess a science of life. Our powerof prevision in biology is for the most part strictly limited to1 Spencer's Essays, " 1st series, pp. 177-180.88 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Lthe kind of effect which will follow a given cause; it isseldom, if ever, that we can foretell the precise amount ofeffect; and even with respect to the kind of effect, we cannotalways be sure beforehand. Biology is not an exact science,like chemistry, and perhaps never will be. Nevertheless,biology is such an admirably organized body of truths; itsclassification, both of objects and of relations, has beencarried to such a considerable extent; and the subordination,the mutual coherence and congruity of its verified propositions is so striking; that we should no more think of doubtingits claims to be called a science than we should doubt theclaims of astronomy.Thus we may end our comparison of scientific with unscientific knowledge. Along with generic identity between thetwo, we have noted five points of gradational difference. Wehave seen that science and common knowledge alike consistin the classification of phenomena in their relations of coexistence and sequence. But we have also seen that sciencediffers from common knowledge in its superior power ofquantitative prevision, in the remoteness, the generality, andthe abstractness of the relations which it classifies, and in thefar more complete mutual subordination and coherence of itsgroups of notions. Such are the distinctive marks of science,regarded as a kind of knowledge. What now are the distinctive marks of philosophy, regarded as a kind of knowledge?The metaphysical philosophers, whose conclusions, methods,and postulates were rejected in the preceding chapter, wouldhave replied to the above question, that philosophy is generically different from science, that philosophy is the knowledge of the absolute, the infinite, the uncaused, the objectivereality, while science is the knowledge of the relative, thefinite, the caused, the subjective state, -that while the lattercan concern itself only with phenomena, or things as theyexist in relation to the percipient mind, the former can aspireto the knowledge of noumena, or things as they exist indeCH. 11. ] THE SCOPE OF PHILOSOPHY. 39pend ntly and out of relation to the percipient mind. Suchwould have been their answer. But we have seen that no suchknowledge of noumena is possible, that the very nature of thecognitive process precludes any such knowledge, and that, ifphilosophy is to be regarded as knowledge at all, it can haveno such scope and function as metaphysicians have assigned toit. What scope is there left for philosophy? If, like scienceand common knowledge, it is nothing more than a classificationof phenomena in their relations of coexistence and sequence,what is there left for it to do which science cannot do as well?We reply that science can, after all, deal only with particular orders of phenomena. No matter how vast the generalities to which it can attain, it only proclaims truths whichhold throughout certain entire classes of phenomena. Itdoes not proclaim truths which hold throughout all classes ofphenomena. Its widest truths are astronomic, or chemical, orbiological truths; they are not Cosmic truths, in the fullestsense of that expression. For by science we mean merelythe sciences, the sum of knowledge obtained by systematicinquiries into the various departments of phenomena. Suchknowledge is, after all, only an aggregate of parts, each ofwhich is more or less completely organized in itself: it is notan organic whole, the parts of which are in their mutualrelations coordinated with each other. Or, to put the sametruth in another form:-The universe of phenomena is anorganic whole, the parts of which are not really divisible,though we must needs separate them for convenience ofstudy. We find it necessary to pursue separate lines of investigation for gravitative, or thermal, or chemical, or vital ,or paychical, or social phenomena; but in reality thesephenomena are ever intermingled and interactive. Let us, forexample, arrive at the widest possible generalization respecting astronomic phenomena; we have still not constructed abody of doctrine concerning the universe, but only concernng a portion of it. It is only when the deepest truths40 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. L.respecting physical, chemical, vital, psychical, and social plenomena come to be regarded as corollaries of some universaltruth-some truth common to all these orders of phenomena-that such a body of doctrine becomes possible.Such a body of doctrine is what we call philosophy in disstinction from science. While science studies the parts,philosophy studies the whole. While science, in its highestdevelopment, is an aggregate of general doctrines, philosophy,in its highest development, must be a Synthesis of all generaldoctrines into a universal doctrine. When Lagrange, by hismagnificent application of the principle of virtual velocitiesto all orders of mechanical phenomena, fused into an organicwhole the various branches of mechanics which had hithertobeen studied separately, this was a scientific achievement ofthe highest order. When Grove and Helmholtz, by showingthat the various modes of molar and molecular motion can betransformed into each other, furnished a common basis forthe study of heat, light, electricity, and sensible motion, theresult, though on the very verge of philosophy, still remained,on the whole, within the limits of science. But when theprinciple of virtual velocities and the principle of the correllation of forces were both shown to be corollaries of the principle of the persistence of force-were both shown to benecessitated by the axiom that no force is ever lost-then theresult reached was a philosophical result. So when Von Baerdiscovered that the evolution of a living organism from thegerm-cell is a progressive change from hom*ogeneity of structure to heterogeneity of structure, he discovered a scientifictruth. But when Herbert Spencer applied Von Baer's formula to the evolution of the solar system, of the earth, of thetotality of life upon its surface, of society, of conscious intelligence, and the products of conscious intelligence, then hediscovered a truth in philosophy,—a truth applicable notmerely to one order of phenomena, but to all orders.These illustrations, however, do not bring out distinctlyCH. 11.] THE SCOPE OF PHILOSOPHY. 41enough the point which I am endeavouring to elucidate. Thedifference between philosophy and science, like the differencebetween science and common knowledge, is a difference indegree only. But the distinction is nevertheless a broad one,and as such is somewhat understated in the foregoing paragraph, because the examples there cited on the side of scienceare all taken from that transcendental region of science inwhich its problems begin to have implications almost asuniversal as the problems of philosophy. Thoroughly toestimate the character of the distinction, we shall do well tostart somewhat further down, and note what the science iswhich is contained in text-books or in original monographs.Viewed from this stand-point, a science like biology, forexample, has for its subject- matter questions concerning thechanges undergone by starch or fibrine within the stomach,the distribution of cells and fibres in the tissue of the brain,the relations of blood- supply to the functional activity of anyorgan, the manner in which the optic nerve is made to responddiversely to rays of different refrangibility impinging uponthe retina, or the growth of bone from sundry centres ofossification starting here and there in the primitive cartilage;or again such questions as concern the generic or ordinalrelationships of barnacles, or bats, or elephants, the hom*ologiesbetween a bird's wing and a dog's fore-leg, the geographicaldistribution of butterflies, or ferns, or pine-trees, the typicalstructures of vertebrates or annulosa, or the kinships betweenfossil forms of the horse and pig. In these questions, and athousand others like them, we see at once that we are in thespecial domain of biology, and that our reasonings belongunmistakably to science, and not to common knowledge onhe one hand, or to philosophy on the other. If now, aftermastering countless details of this sort, we go on to inquireinto the cause of the bilateral symmetry of lobsters andcentipedes, or of the spiral arrangement of leaves around atem; if we seek to generalize the phenomena of heredity,42 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Lor hybridity, or adaptation, or, if we endeavour, with Mr.Darwin, to determine the agency of natural selection inmodifying the characteristics of species; we are still nodoubt within the territory of science, but we have arrived ata region in which the inquiries take so wide a sweep, and theresults have so immediate a bearing upon other inquiriesoutside of biology, that our study may seem to demand someespecially descriptive name. Accordingly we find the phrasetranscendental biology " employed by French writers, andelsewhere we meet with the significant title " philosophicalbiology." Still more significantly Mr. Spencer, whose treatiseon biology is occupied with researches of this high order,speaks of them as constituting a domain of " special philosophy." That is to say, just where this science has reachedthe widest generality consistent with its being called biologyat all, it is characterized as a special kind of philosophy. Butone more step is needed to reach the level of that philosophywhich need not be qualified as special. If, pursuing thesame line of advance, we proceed-as I shall hereafterdo-with the aid of the most general principles of heredity,adaptation, and natural selection, to elucidate some comprehensive theory of life; and if we contemplate this theoryof life, on the one hand, as dependent on certain universallaws of matter, motion, and force, and on the other hand, asfurnishing a basis for sundry doctrines relating to intellectual,moral, and social phenomena; then we have clearly come intothe domain of philosophy, strictly so called. And the resultwould have been the same had we started from astronomy,or physics, or any other science; save that nowhere else,perhaps, could the true character of the process have been sofully illustrated as in the case of biology-the great centralscience upon the theorems of which so closely depend theviews which we must hold concerning ourselves and ourrelations to the universe about us.That such transcendental inquiries as those last mentionedBH, 11.] THE SCOPE OF PHILOSOPHY. 43belong strictly to philosophy, and constitute the all- essentialpart of it, can be questioned by none save those who, withHegel, would make philosophy synonymous with ontology.Upon these it is incumbent, if they would establish theirposition, to dispose of the facts and reasonings which havemade the relativity of all knowledge the fundamental theoremof modern psychology. For us it may suffice to point outthat the province of philosophy, as here defined, includes allsuch inquiries into cosmology, into psychology and ethics andreligion, as philosophers have occupied themselves with inthe past, excepting those only in which the necessary limitations of human thinking have been expressly or tacitlyignored. Far from dethroning philosophy, we are assigningto it a scope as wide as was recognized for it by the earlyGreeks; while in approaching its problems, we are enabledto profit by that physical investigation which Sokrates notunjustly stigmatized, in his own day, as hopelessly misleading, but which now, conducted upon sounder methods, is oursurest guide to the knowledge of truth.Thus is philosophy vindicated, and its function is seen tobe as important as that of science. Rejecting, as we werecompelled to do, the metaphysical assumption that philosophyis a kind of knowledge generically distinct from all otherkinds, and asserting for it a common root with science andwith ordinary knowledge, we have nevertheless seen that itdiffers from the two latter, much in the same way that the oneof them differs from the other. Accurate quantitative preision is, in the nature of things, confined to the most specialof the special inquiries with which science is concerned.Limited as it is to individual cases occurring under generallaws, it must be left on one side in enumerating the distincive features of philosophy. But from what has been broughtforward, it at once appears that philosophy differs from sciencein the greater generality, abstractness, and remoteness ofthe relations which it formulates, and also in its larger and44 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Lmore complex organization of general truths into a coherentsystem. Or, to sum up by a set of rough and general, thoughnot severely accurate, contrasts (which, after all the foregoingexplanation, we may safely do):-Common Knowledge expresses in a single formula a particular truth respecting aparticular group of phenomena; Science expresses in a singleformula a general truth respecting an entire order of phenomena; Philosophy expresses in a single formula a universaltruth respecting the whole world of phenomena.Philosophy, therefore, remains, as of old, the study of theCosmos, save that it is the study of phenomena not ofuoumena, of evolution not of creation, of laws not ofpurposes, of the How? not of the Why?CHAPTER IIITHE TEST OF TRUTH.HAVING now indicated the limits of human knowledge,and marked out the province of that most highly organizedkind of knowledge called philosophy, it becomes us nextto inquire what are the sources of knowledge, and what is itsguaranty? What is the test of truth which cur philosophyshall recognize as valid? And first, what is Truth?Truth may be provisionally defined as the exact correspondence between the subjective order of our conceptionsand the objective order of the relations among things. Nowsince by the very constitution of the knowing process weare debarred from knowing things in themselves, since ourhighest philosophy must for ever concern itself with phenomena and can never hope to deal with objective realities,the question arises, how can we ever ascertain the objectiveorder of the relations among things? How can we comparethis objective order with the subjective order of our conceptions? And without such comparison, how can we everbe certain that the two orders correspond? Can we thenever hope to possess an objective canon of truth? And ifwe cannot obtain any such canon, are we not irresistiblydriven to Idealism or to Scepticism,-to the philosophywhich denies the existence of any objective reality, or to thephilosophy which denies that truth can be attained at all?46 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. LSuch questions as these have arisen whenever in the longcareer of philosophic inquiry an approach has been madtoward demonstrating the relativity of knowledge . Theydictated the criticisms of Leibnitz upon Locke's doctrine thatall knowledge is the result of experience. The Cartesianshad postulated the existence of innate ideas; a postulatewhich was destroyed when Locke showed that there can beno ideas until the mind has come into contact with environing agencies. But to Locke's reassertion of the scholasticformula, Nihil est in intellectu quod non prius in sensu, Leibnitz added the important qualification, nisi intellectus ipse.Rejecting, equally with Locke, the Cartesian doctrine ofinnate ideas, recognizing fully that there can be no knowledge until the mind has been awakened into activity bythe presence of objects to be cognized , Leibnitz neverthelessmaintained that in each act of cognition there is an elementfurnished by the mind as well as an element furnished bythe environment,-that the subject is not passive, but cooperates actively with the object. In all this, let us note,there is nothing that conflicts with the established doctrineof the relativity of knowledge. It will be remembered thatin our first chapter the necessary cooperation of subjectand object in every act of cognition was shown to be one ofthose very facts which enforce the conclusion that all knowledge is of the Relative. No competent psychologist wouldnow subscribe to the Lockian opinion that previous to thereception of experiences the mind is like a blank sheet.Physiology has taught us better than that, —has taught usthat mind is strictly correlated with a complex nervous system, which, according to minute peculiarities of organization,modifies the experiences resulting from its intercourse withenvironing agencies. We, therefore, recognize as fully asLeibnitz, that the subject actively cooperates with the objectin each act of consciousness. And we insist that, for thatvery reason, our knowledge, being the product of subjectiveCH. 111.] THE TEST OF TRUTH.and objective factors, can never be regarded as a knowledgeof the objective factor by itself. This is, indeed, the importof our illustration, above given, from the phenomena of vibratory motion. Since a hom*ogeneous phenomenon, like theundulation of molecules, can produce in us such heterogeneous states of consciousness as the feelings of sound, heat.or colour, we argued that the constitution of the percipientmind must modify in every case the character of the phenomenon perceived; and that, therefore, the phenomenoncannot be regarded as like the external noumenon, its partcause. What is this but saying, with Leibnitz, that thesubject actively cooperates with the object in each act ofconscious knowledge? The Leibnitzian criticism, therefore,only serves to bring out in a stronger light the doctrinethat all knowledge is of the Relative. Though powerfulagainst the hypothesis of Locke, it is powerless against theposition held by modern psychology.Such a result, however, was the farthest possible fromLeibnitz's thoughts. Far from intending to re- enforce thedoctrine of relativity as shadowed forth in the writings ofthe Lockian school, his object was to crush it at the startby showing that we can obtain a criterion of absolute orobjective knowledge. And he accordingly gave to his statement an interpretation quite inconsistent with the doctrine of the relativity of knowledge as we are now obligedto hold it. He held that in many acts of cognition, themind contributes an element of certainty which couldnever have been gained from experience, which couldnever have flowed from the intercourse of the mind withits environment; and that propositions obtained by suchacts of cognition are Necessary Truths,-truths which aretrue of the objective order of things as well of the subjective order.After Hume, by drawing out the Lockian doctrine to itsIxtreme corollaries, had enunciated a set of conclusions which48 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.[PT. Ideny all that the doctrine of relativity explicitly denies,but which differ from the doctrine of relativity in ignoringwhat the latter implicitly asserts, the Leibnitzian theoremwas again taken up by Kant, who made it his own by hismanner of illustrating it, and whose arguments on this topic.still carry conviction to the minds of many able metaphysicians.The immense importance of Kant's views makes it desirablefor us to give them some farther consideration than is implied in merely stating them.In the first place, it must be borne in mind that Kantmaintained, no less stoutly, and perhaps no less consistently,than Hume, the doctrine of the relativity of all knowledge.As Mr. Lewes truly observes, "the great outcome of theKritik was a demonstration of the vanity of ontological speculation." Kant would have repudiated Schelling and Hegel,as he did in fact openly repudiate the claims of Fichte to beconsidered his legitimate successor and expounder. It wasKant who first showed that every hypothesis which we canframe respecting the Absolute, the Infinite, the First Cause,or the ultimate essences of things, must inevitably commitus to alternative impossibilities of thought. It was Kantalso who showed psychologically, from the necessary cooperation of subject and object in each act of cognition, that aknowledge of the pure object as unmodified by the subject isfor ever impossible. Kant held that a phenomenon, inasmuch as it is an appearance, presupposes a noumenonthing which appears, but this noumenon, which is a necessary postulate, is only a negation to us. It can never bepositively known; it can only be known under the conditionsof sense and understanding, ergo, as a phenomenon. " Andaccordingly," says Kant, " though the existence of an externalworld is a necessary postulate, its existence is only logicallyaffirmed." Of its existence out of relation to our consciousness we can know nothing; and it consequently appears thatwe can never predicate of our knowledge that it has objec "-8CH. III.] THE TEST OF TRUTH.tive truth. "1 Even so, reiterates Kant, in the introductionto the Kritik, " to attempt to transcend the sphere of thesubjective is vain and hopeless; nor is it wise to deplore thatwe are ' cabin'd, cribbed, confined ' within that sphere fromwhich we never can escape. As well might the bird, whenfeeling the resistance of the air, wish that it were in vacuo,thinking that there it might fly with perfect ease. Let us therefore content ourselves with our own kingdom, instead of crossing perilous seas in search of kingdoms inaccessible to man."Up to this point we may regard Kant as equally withHume the precursor of the modern philosophy of relativity.In the above conclusions there is little to which Humewould have objected. But when we come to examine theTest of Truth set up by the two great adversaries, the pointof irreconcilable antagonism between them becomes apparent.Though conducted with a wider historic experience, and withmore extensive psychologic resources, the combat was essentially the same which had been waged in the precedingepoch between Leibnitz and Locke. Hume had said: the solecriterion of truth is uniformity of experience; that to whichhuman experience has invariably testified, we are compelledto accept as true; though it may not be true of the pureobjective order of things, it is true for us,-true of the orderof things as presented to our intelligence. Kant, on the otherhand, distinguished between contingent and necessary truths;and asserted that while uniformity of experience is a sufficient criterion of contingent truth, it is not a trustworthycriterion of necessary truth. For experience, says Kant, cantell us that certain phenomena always occur in certain relations; but it cannot tell us that they must always so occur.Uniformity of experience cannot assure us that two and twomust make four, or that two straight lines cannot enclose aspace. We cannot conceive that these things should be otherwise, and we must therefore know them, independently of1 Lewes, History of Philosophy, 3rd edition, vol. ii. pp. 471, 472.VOL. L50 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.[Pt. 1,experience, and by the very constitution of our minds. Thiselement of necessity and universality is the element whichthe mind furnishes in the duplex act of cognition.This theorem contains two assertions, the one implicit,the other explicit. It asserts implicitly that the subjectiveelement in cognition can be isolated from the objectiveelement, at least so far as to be independently defined . Itasserts explicitly that absolute uniformity of experience isinadequate to produce in us the belief in the necessity of anygiven relation among phenomena. With reference to thefirst of these assertions, I shall be content with citing theexcellent remarks of Mr. Lewes:-"There was an initial misconception in Kant's attemptto isolate the elements of an indissoluble act. It was onething to assume that there are necessarily two coefficientsin the function; another thing to assume that these couldbe isolated and studied apart. It was one thing to say,Here is an organism with its inherited structure, and aptitudes dependent on that structure, which must be considered as necessarily determining the forms in which it willbe affected by external agencies, so that all experience will bea compound of subjective and objective conditions; anotherthing to say, Here is the pure d priori element in every experience, the form which the mind impresses on the mattergiven externally. The first was an almost inevitable conclusion; the second was a fiction. Psychology, if it can showus anything, can show the absolute impossibility of our discriminating the objective from the subjective elements. Inthe first place, the attempt would only be possible on theground that we could, at any time and in any way, disengageThought from its content; separate in Feeling the object asit is out of all relation to Sensibility, or the subject as puresubject. If we could do this in one instance, we should havea basis for the investigation. The chemist who has learnedto detect the existence of an acid by its reactions in one caseCH. III. ] THE TEST OF TRUTH. 01can by its reactions determine it in other cases. Havingexperience of an acid and an alkaloid, each apart from theother, he can separate them when finding them combined ina salt, or he can combine them when he finds them separate.His analysis and synthesis are possible, because he has elsewhere learned the nature of each element separately. But suchanalysis or synthesis is impossible with the objective and subjective elements of thought. Neither element is ever givenalone. Pure thought and pure matter are unknown quantities, to be reached by no equation. The thought is necessarily and universally subject-object; matter is necessarily,and to us universally, object-subject. Thought is only calledinto existence under appropriate conditions; and in the objective stimulus, the object and subject are merged, as acid andbase are merged in the salt. When I say that the sensationof light is a compound of objective vibrations and retinalsusceptibility, I use language which is intelligible and serviceable for my purpose; but I must not imagine that theexternal object named vibration is the Ding an sich, the pureobject out of all relation to sensibility; nor that the retinalsusceptibility is pure subject, involving no vibratory element.Kant himself would assure me that the vibrations were assubjective as the susceptibility. Indeed, seeing that hedenied altogether the possibility of a knowledge of pureobject, the Ding an sich, it was a violent strain of logic toconclude that in thought he could separate this unknowableobject from the subject knowing it."¹À violent strain of logic it was, no doubt. After proving,alnost to superfluity, that subject and object are inseparablyunited in each act of cognition, and after triumphantly usingthis fact against the ontologists who pretended to a knowledgeof the objective reality in itself, Kant turns around and tellsus that we may after all acquire a knowledge of the subjectivereality in itself! Though we can never determine what the1 Lewes, History of Philosophy, 3rd edition, vol. ii. p. 483.E 252 [PT. ICOSMIC PHILOSOPHY.environment furnishes in the duplex act of cognition, we cannone the less determine exactly what the mind furnishes. Bythis wonderful inconsistency Kant opened the way for the laterGerman idealism. Through this inlet entered Fichte, Schelling, and Hegel, with their swarm of medieval conceptions,to perturb the onward course of philosophy. Kant might invain protest. It was in vain that " he showed that the subjective d priori nature of these truths was peremptory proofof their objective falsehood; that they could not be truthsof things, precisely because they were purely subjective conditions of thought. " Once granted that the subject could ofitself possess truth independent of experience, independentof intercourse with the objective environment, the inferencewas inevitable that the subject might impose its necessitiesupon the object, that the possibilities of thought might berendered coextensive with the possibilities of things. ThusKant, after laboriously barring out ontology at the mainentrance, carelessly let it slip in at the back door. Thus, byadmitting the possibility of arriving at truth otherwise thanthrough experience, did he render nugatory his elaboratedemonstration of the relativity of knowledge.¹This will appear still more evident as we proceed toexamine the second portion of Kant's theorem,—the assertionthat uniformity of experience, however long continued, cannever afford us a sufficient guaranty of necessary truth. Theargument here is at first sight a plausible one. Any particular experience can only tell us that a phenomenon, or a1 "The truth is, " says Mr. Lewes, in his new work just now appearing,"Kant tried to hold contradictory positions. The whole drift of his polemicagainst the ontologists was to show that knowledge was limited, relative, and could not extend beyond the sphere of possible experience; but while thus cutting the ground from under the ontologists, he was also anxious to cut theground from the sensationalists and sceptics, and therefore tried to prove that the Mind brought with it an à priori fund of knowledge. "-Problems ofLife and Mind, vol. i. p. 453. In the present chapter I quote by preference from Mr. Lewes, because it seems to me that he has illustrated both thestrength and the weakness of Kant's position ( and thus, virtually, of all modern metaphysics) more thoroughly and more clearly than any other critic,CH III.] THE TEST OF TRUTH. 53relation between phenomena, is thus and thus; not that itmust be thus and thus. And any number of experiences canonly tell us that certain phenomena have hitherto alwaysoccurred in certain relations; not that they must alwaysand for ever occur in the same relations. Or, as Dr. Brownphrases it, " Experience teaches us the past only, not thefuture." Let us take as an illustration, our belief that everyevent must universally and necessarily have a cause, —that nochange can ever take place anywhere without an antecedent.This is what the Kantian would call a necessary truth. Andthe Kantian would say, All that experience can tell us is, thatin an immense number of instances, and in an immensenumber of places, every event which has occurred has had acause. It cannot tell us that in all future instances, and inall places throughout the universe every event must have acause. To test such a belief by experience would requirethat our experience should be extended through infinite timeand infinite space, which is, of course, impossible. Withoutsuch infinite and eternal experience we can never be surebut sooner or later, somewhere or other, some event mayhappen without a cause, and thus overturn our belief. Nevertheless, we have such a belief-an invariable and invinciblebelief. And since our limited experience cannot have produced such a belief, it must have arisen in us independentlyof experience; it must be necessitated by the very constitution of our thinking minds; and must therefore be universallyand necessarily true. Such is the Kantian argument.Upon all this it is an obvious comment, that, if the beliefin the universality of causation is an inherent belief recessitated by the very constitution of our thinking minds, it isa belief which ought to be found wherever we find a thinkingmind. It is hardly necessary to say that this is not the case.Children, savages, and other persons with undeveloped powersof reasoning believe in particular acts of causation, but notin the universality of causation-a conception which is too54 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Labstract for their crude intelligence to grasp. Nay, 1 haveknown educated people who maintained that there might beregions of the universe where the law does not hold, and whothought it hardly safe to deny that even on our own planetevents might occasionally happen without any determining antecedent. Besides which, all those who still acceptthe doctrine of the so- called " Freedom of the Will,” implicitly, and sometimes explicitly, assert that the entire class ofphenomena known as volitions are not causally determinedby groups of foregoing circ*mstances. The belief in theuniversality of causation was certainly not prevalent inantiquity, or in the Middle Ages: its comparative prevalencein modern times is due to that vast organization of experiences which we call physical science; and even at thepresent day it is not persistently held, except by those whoare accustomed to scientific reasoning, or to the carefulanalysis of their own mental operations.But this argument does not strike to the root of the matter,for though the belief in the universality of causation is nota universal belief, the belief in its necessity in each particularcase is undoubtedly universal. And, as we have seen, theKantian denies the power of accumulated experience toproduce the belief that the future must inevitably resemblethe past. He reminds us that for many ages it was supposedthat all swans were white, until finally swans were discoveredin Australia which were not white; and he asks what betterwarrant can uniformity of experience give us than it gavein this case. If after three thousand years a black swanturns up, must we not suppose it possible that in threethousand years more we may see a candle burn in an atmosphere of pure nitrogen?In answering this query, let us begin by observing that inmany cases, the mere accumulation of experiences is a matterof but little consequence. A child believes, after one experience, that fire will burn. When the chemist has shown, byCH. 111.] THE TEST OF TRUTH 551a single experiment, that nitrogen will not support combustion, we believe that it will be just the same through allfuture time. If we withhold our assent, " it is from a doubtwhether the one experiment was properly made, not whetherif properly made it would be conclusive." Here, then, asMr. Mill says, " is a general law of nature inferred withouthesitation from a single instance; a universal propositionfrom a singular one. Now mark another case, and contrastit with this. Not all the instances which have been observedsince the beginning of the world, in support of the general proposition that all crows are black, would be deemed a sufficientpresumption of the truth of the proposition, to outweigh thetestimony of one unexceptionable witness who should affirmthat in some region of the earth not fully explored , he hadcaught and examined a crow, and had found it to be grey."What is the explanation of this difference? "Why is asingle instance in some cases sufficient for a complete induction, while in others myriads of concurring instances, withouta single exception known or presumed, g) such a very littleway towards establishing a universal proposition? " Thesolution is to be sought in the extreme complexity of theconditions in the one case as contrasted with their extremesimplicity in the other. The scientific thinker does not consider blackness a necessary attribute of a crow, because hebelieves that some inappreciable variation in the nutrition ofthe bird, by altering the deposit of pigment in the feathers,might give us a grey or a white crow instead of a black one.Or if we do not reflect upon the matter so carefully as this,we at least regard a crow as a very complex aggregate of conditions and results, and find no difficulty in imagining thatsome of the conditions varying might affect the sum-total ofresults. Or if this also be taken to imply too much consciousphilosophizing in us, it is undeniable that our conception of acrow, as of any other vertebrate, is made up of a large number1 Mill, System of Logic, vol. i. p. 352.56 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. L.of conceptions, of which the conception of blackness is notthe one upon which the specific identity of the sum-totaldepends. We have had experience of bay and of sorrelhorses, of black and of white bears, of grey and of tortoiseshell cats; and, in accordance with such experience, wefind it perfectly easy to regard any other animal as varyingcolour while retaining its specific identity. Our belief thatall crows are black rests, therefore, upon purely negativeevidence,-upon the absence of any experience of crows thatare not black; and no amount of negative evidence can outweigh a single well - established item of positive evidence.Quite otherwise would it be if our explorer should assertthat he had discovered crows destitute of a vertebrateskeleton. We should reply, with confidence, that in theabsence of such a skeleton the animal in question could nothave been a crow. And the justice of the reply becomesapparent when we turn to the case of the nitrogen, wherethe conditions are so simple that we can keep them all inmind at once, and where we can imagine no variation whichshall not at once alter the whole character of the case. Wecannot imagine nitrogen supporting combustion, for as soonas it did so it would cease to be nitrogen. That A is A, is anidentical proposition only when the attributes of A areconstant. Now the incapacity to support combustion is onef the attributes by the possession of which nitrogen isnitrogen. And to say that nitrogen may at some future timesupport combustion, is to say that A will cease to be A, andbecome something else.Now, why are we compelled to think thus? Because weare incapable of transcending our experience. Our experienceof nitrogen is that it will not support combustion, and weare incapable of imagining it to be otherwise in contradiction to our experience. Our conception of nitrogen, formedby experience, is that of a substance which will not supportcombustion, and we cannot mentally sever the substanceCH. III. ] THE TEST OF TRUTH. 57.from its attribute without destroying the conception altogether. So we cannot conceive that a lump of iron willfloat in water. Why? Because our conception of iron,formed solely by experience, is that of a substance whichsinks in water; and to imagine it otherwise is to suppress theconception, either of iron or of water, and to substitute someother conception in its place. We may try the experimentfor ourselves. Try to imagine a lump of iron floating inwater, and you will find that you cannot do it, withoutmentally endowing either the iron or the water with otherattributes than those by virtue of which these substances arewhat they are, and thus your attempt destroys itself. Yet noKantian would deny that your conception of iron or of wateris wholly formed by experience. Your conception is just whatexperience has made it, and you cannot alter it without destroying it, simply because you cannot transcend experience.Here then we come to a conclusion quite the reverse ofthat maintained by the Kantians. " The irresistible tendencywe have to anticipate that the future course of events wilresemble the past, is simply that we have experience only ofthe past, and as we cannot transcend our experience, wecannot conceive things really existing otherwise than as wehave known them. The very fact of our being compelledto judge of the unknown by the known-of our irresistiblyanticipating that the future course of events will resemblethe past of our incapacity to believe that the same effectsshould not follow from the same causes-this very fact is atriumphant proof of our having no ideas not acquired throughexperience. If we had à priori ideas, these, as independentof, and superior to, all experience, would enable us to judgethe unknown according to some other standard than that ofthe known. But no other standard is possible for us."1The same general considerations will apply to the truths ofmathematics, which some Kantians regard as the necessary1 Lewes, History of Philosophy, 2nd edition, p. 668.58 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. L.truths par excellence,-habitually speaking of them as if theywere in some way truer than physical and chemical truths.Bearing in mind what was said a moment ago, it will besufficient to observe that in mathematics we utter propositionswith respect to certain particular relations alone, withoutregard to other conditions, and hence there is absolutely noroom for contingency. Let me conclude this portion of thesubject by a citation from Mr. Lewes:-" When we say thattwice two is four, or that the internal angles of a triangleare equal to two right angles, we abstract the relations ofNumber and Form from all other conditions whatever, andour propositions are true, whether the objects counted andmeasured be hot or cold, large or small, heavy or light, redor blue. Inasmuch as the truths express the abstract relations only, no change in the other conditions can affect theserelations; and truths must always remain undisturbed untila change take place in their terms. Alter the number two,or the figure triangle, by an infinitesimal degree, and the truthis thereby altered. When we say that bodies expand byheat, the proposition is a concrete one, including the variableconditions; but although these variable conditions preventour saying that all bodies will under all conditions be alwaysand for evermore expanded by heat, the case is not reallydistinguished from the former one, since both the Contingentand the Necessary Truth can only be altered by an alterationin the terms. If a body which does not expand by heat(there are such) be brought forward as impugning the truthof our proposition, we at once recognize that this body isunder different conditions from those which our propositionincluded. This is the introduction of a new truth, not afalsification of the old. Our error, if we erred, was in toohastily assuming that all bodies were under the same conditions. Hence the correct definition of a Contingent Truthis ' one which generalizes the conditions '; while that of aNe essary Truth is ' one which is an unconditional generali、CH. 111.] THE TEST OF TRUTH. 59zation.' The first affirms that whatever is seen to be true,under present conditions, will be true so long as these conditions remain unaltered. The second affirms that whateveris true now, being a truth irrespective of conditions, cannotsuffer any change from interfering conditions, and musttherefore be universally true." 1To this lucid exposition it is hardly necessary to add thatthe mental compulsion under which we accept mathematicaltruths is of precisely the same character as that under whichwe accept physical or chemical truths. Our conception ofparallel lines -- a conception which the Kantian admits tohave been formed by experience is a conception of lineswhich do not enclose space. And just as we found that, inorder to imagine nitrogen supporting combustion, we wereobliged to suppress the conception of nitrogen altogether andsubstitute for it some other conception, we also find that,in order to imagine two parallel lines enclosing a space, wemust suppress the conception of parallel lines altogether, andsubstitute for it the conception of bent or converging lines.The two cases are exactly similar. In the one case, as inthe other, our conceptions are but the registry of our experience, and can therefore be altered only by being temporarily annihilated. Our minds being that which intercoursewith the environment-both their own intercourse and thatof ancestral minds, as will be shown hereafter-has madethem, it follows that our indestructible beliefs must be theregistry of that intercourse, must be necessarily true, notbecause they are independent of experience, but because theyare the only complete unqualified expression of it. Herethen, on the ruins of the Kantian hypothesis, we may erecta canon of truth, as follows:-1 History of Philosophy, 4th edit. vol. i. p. cv. This view, which Ihold to be the most important contribution ever made to the discussion ofNecessity and Contingency, is still more thoroughly and forcibly presented by Mr. Lewes in his new work, Problems of Life and Mind, vol. i. pp $90-414.COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. LA necessary truth is one that is expressed in a propositionof which the negation is inconceivable, after all disturbingconditions have been eliminated.A proposition of which the negation is inconceivable isnecessarily true in relation to human intelligence.This test of inconceivability is the only ultimate test oftruth which philosophy can accept as valid.Thus the uniformity-test of Hume and the inconceivability-test of Kant are fused together in a deeper synthesis,-the deepest which philosophy can reach. As Mr. Spencerforcibly states it: " Conceding the entire truth of the positionthat, during any phase of human progress, the ability orinability to form a specific conception wholly depends onthe experience men have had; and that, by a widening oftheir experiences, they may by-and- bye be enabled to conceivethings before inconceivable to them; it may still be argued,that as at any time the best warrant men can have for abelief is the perfect agreement of all pre- existing experiencein support of it, it follows that, at any time, the inconceivableness of its negation is the deepest test any belief admitsof. Objective facts are ever impressing themselves upon us;our experience is a register of these objective facts; and theinconceivableness of a thing implies that it is wholly atvariance with the register. Even were this all, it is notclear how, if every truth is primarily inductive, any bettertest of truth could exist. But it must be remembered, thatwhilst many of these facts impressing themselves upon usare occasional; whilst others again are very general; someare universal, and are unchanging. These universal andunchanging facts are, by the hypothesis, certain to establishbeliefs of which the negations are inconceivable; whilst theothers are not certain to do this; and if they do, subsequentfacts will reverse their action."As this position has been vehemently attacked by Mr.Mill, who hardly admits for the test of inconceivableness anyCH. III.] THE TEST OF TRUTH. 61validity whatever, some further explanation is desirable. Itmust not be supposed that, in erecting such a canon of truth,we are imitating those high à priori metaphysicians, whor*gard all their cherished traditional notions as infallible intuitions, because of their professed inability to disbelieve them .This is a confusion of which Mr. Mill has not succeeded inkeeping clear, and which has led him unintentionally to misrepresent the position taken by Mr. Spencer and Mr. Lewes.The confusion arises from the double sense of the word belief,and the accompanying ambiguous use of the term inconceivable. By a singular freak of language we use the word beliefto designate both the least persistent and the most persistentcoherence among our states of consciousness,-to describe ourstate of mind with reference both to those propositions of thetruth of which we are least certain, and to those of the truthof which we are most certain. We apply it to states of mindwhich have nothing in common, except that they cannot bejustified by a chain of logical proofs. For example, you believe,perhaps, that all crows are black, but being unable to furnishabsolutely convincing demonstration of the proposition, yousay that you believe it, not that you know it. You alsobelieve in your own personal existence, of which, however,you can furnish no logical demonstration, simply because itis an ultimate fact in your consciousness which underliesand precedes all demonstration. So with the axioms ofgeometry. If asked what are our grounds for believing thattwo straight lines cannot enclose a space, we can only replyhat the counter-proposition is inconceivable; that we cannotframe the conception of two straight lines enclosing a space;Chat in any attempt to do so, the conception of straight linesdisappears and is replaced by the conception of bent lines.We believe the axiom simply because we must believe it.The source of this confusion is the failure to distinguish between thekind of belief which remains after " the reduction of inferences to sensations, " and that which is founded in a "reliance on unverified inferences. ”.Ber Lewes, Problems of Life and Mind, vol. i. p. 369.62བ [PT. LCOSMIC PHILOSOPHY.AIt is only in this latter sense that the word belief is employed in the canon of truth above stated, and when Mr.Spencer says that a given proposition is inconceivable, hemeans that it is one of which the subject and predicate canby no amount of effort be united in consciousness. Thus(to take Mr. Spencer's illustration), that a cannon-ball firedfrom England will reach America is a proposition which,though utterly incredible, is not inconceivable, since it isquite possible to imagine the projectile power of cannonsincreased four-hundredfold, or one-thousandfold, were therequisite conditions at hand; but that a certain triangle isround is an inconceivable proposition, for the conceptions ofroundness and triangularity will destroy each other soonerthan be united in consciousness. And manifestly we canhave no deeper warrant for the truth of a proposition thanthat the counter-proposition is one which the mind is incompetent to frame. Such a state of things implies that theentire intercourse of the mind with the environment iswitness in favour of the proposition and against its negation.It is indeed a popular misconception, -a misconceptionwhich lies at the bottom of that manner of philosophizingwhich is called Empiricism, —that nothing can be known to betrue which cannot be demonstrated. To be convinced that thisis a misconception, we need but to recollect what a demonstration is. Every demonstration consists, in the first place, of aseries of steps in each of which the group of relations expressedin a proposition is included in some other and wider group ofrelations, is seen to be like some other group previouslyconstituted. Now if this process of inclusion is not to becarried on for ever, we must come at last to some widestgroup, -to some generalization which cannot be included inany wider generalization, and of which we can only say thatthe truth which it expresses is so completely abstracted fromperturbing conditions that it can be recognized by a simpleact of consciousness as self-evident. If, for example, "weCH. 111.]THE TEST OF TRUTH. 63Ascribe the flow of a river to the same force which causes thefall of a stone," and if, " in further explanation of a movement produced by gravitation in a direction almost horizontal,we cite the law that fluids subject to mechanical forces exertreactive forces which are equal in all directions," we are goingthrough a process of demonstration, -we are including aspecial fact under a more general fact. If now we seek thewarrant for this more general fact, and find it in that mostgeneral fact that force persists, we are still going through aprocess of demonstration . But if lastly we inquire for thewarrant of this most general fact, we shall get no reply savethat no alternative can be framed in thought. That forcepersists we are compelled to believe, since the proposition thatforce can arise out of nothing or can lapse into nothing is averbal proposition which we can by no amount of efforttranslate into thought. Thus at the end of every demonstration we must reach an axiom for the truth of which ouronly test is the inconceivability of its negation.Secondly, from a different point of view, a demonstrationis a series of propositions, every one of which is necessarilyinvolved in the preceding one. How do we know it to bethus necessarily involved? How do we know that the statement that action and reaction are equal and opposite isnecessarily involved in the statement that force persists?Simply because we can conceive no alternative, since to doso would be to perform the impossible task of formulating inconsciousness an equation between something and nothing.Thus our only warrant for each step of a demonstration isthe fact that any alternative step is one which the mindcannot take.Such is indeed our only warrant for that most certain ofall facts-the existence of our own states of consciousness.If you say that you have a sensation of redness, and Irequire you to prove the statement, you can only reiteratethat such is the fact, the testimony of consciousness as to the64 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. ST. I.existence of its own states being final, and admitting of noappeal. You cannot conceive it to be otherwise. Duringthe presence of the sensation of redness it is impossible forany opposite state of consciousness, such as the sensation ofblueness, to emerge. With regard to the cause of the sensation, the case is wholly different. The sensation of rednessmay be due to the presence of an external object from whichemitted red rays impinge upon the retina; or it may be dueto the presence of certain foreign substances in your bloodwhich excite in the optic nerve such a rate of undulation asto produce the consciousness of red colour. All this is matterof inference, and must be verified by the repeated applicationof the test of truth. But for the ultimate dictum-that thegiven state of consciousness exists-you have the directwarrant of consciousness itself.In the light of this explanation, does not our canon ofinconceivability seem almost a truism, and does it not seema singular ignoratio elenchi when Mr. Mill urges against usthat the ancients could not conceive the existence of theantipodes, which nevertheless exist? It is quite true that theancients could not believe that men could stand on the otherside of the earth without falling off; and this was becausethey falsified one of the conditions of the complex case.They imagined gravity continually acting downwards, notknowing that downwards means toward the centre of theearth. What they could not conceive was that an unsupportedbody will not fall; and this is still strictly inconceivable,since to assert that an unsupported body will not fall is toassert that a given amount of gravitative force, when notcounteracted by an equivalent opposing force, will not manifest itself in motion,-a verbal assertion which can by noeffort be construed into thought.A similar reply awaits Mr. Mill's argument from the oldbelief in the destructibility of matter. It is now inconceivable that a particle of matter should either come intoUH. (II.] THE TEST OF TRUTH. 65existence or lapse into non-existence. But before the use ofthe balance in chemistry had shown experimentally thatnothing ever disappears, hypotheses were freely propoundedin which the indestructibility of matter was entirely ignored;and, accordingly, Mr. Mill appears to believe that in formertimes the annihilation of matter was thinkable. In reply itis enough to observe that, so long as human intelligence hasbeen human intelligence, it can never have been possible toframe in thought an equation between something and nothing:yet this is the impossibility which must be surmounted beforethe annihilation or the creation of a particle of matter canbecome representable in consciousness. The truth is thatwhoever, before the discoveries of chemistry, maintainedthat matter is destructible, defended a verbal proposition,which answered to no framed or frameable conception. Of apiece with this is the fact that in all ages men have tortured,slain, calumniated, or otherwise persecuted each other in theirzeal to get sundry propositions established, the subject andpredicate of which could never be united in thought. It isnot so very long since Michael Servetus was burned at thestake for a heresy partly based upon doubts as to the possibleequality or identity of three and one; yet not even Mr. Millwould maintain that it has ever been possible for humanintelligence to join together the members of the quantitativetheorem implied in the doctrine of the Trinity. It appears,therefore, that men may believe, or at least maintain, whatthey can in nowise conceive. As Mr. Spencer well says,"Refrain from rendering your terms into ideas, and you mayreach any conclusion whatever. That the whole is equal toits part is a proposition that may be quite comfortablyentertained so long as neither wholes nor parts are imagined."This is one of the ways in which so many absurd theoriesobtain currency, and having once become current are sodifficult to banish from circulation. The philologist A. W.Schlegel once suggested that the terminations of words mayVOL. I.66 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [FT. Lhave grown out from the roots, just as branches of treesgrow from axillary buds. Inductive philology has provedthis notion to be false, and has shown that in all cases atermination is the abraded relic of an originally distinctqualifying word, which by constant use and through rapidpronunciation, during primitive ages when words were addressed only to the ear, has become inseparably agglutinatedto the qualified word or root. This discovery , which has longbeen completely verified, of course supersedes and rendersantiquated the hypothesis of Schlegel. But the point whichhere concerns us is that no such elaborate induction wasneeded to show that the notion of a budding termination isin itself absurd. All that was needed to reveal its absurditywas to stop and translate the words used into ideas. To saythat a termination buds out from a root, is to combine wordswhich severally possess a meaning into a phrase which hasno meaning. We can severally form concepts of a wordtermination, of a word-root, and of the process of budding;but the three concepts are wholly disparate and refuse to uniteinto a thinkable proposition. The hypothesis had no otherfoundation than the vague associations with the processesof vegetal life which cluster about such a word as " root ";and the fact that a scholar like Schlegel could seriously founda theory of language upon such a mere chaos of half- shapedconceptions shows us how easy it is for highly- educated mento think in a very slovenly manner. But it likewise conclusively shows us that the assent of philosophers in pastages, or of uneducated people in our own age, to sundryunthinkable propositions, is not to be cited as evidence thathere are minds which can think what is unthinkable.building up of enormous theories out of purely verbalpropositions, which do not correspond to any thinkable concatenation of conceptions, has always been the besettingsin of human philosophizing. It has been known, since theMiddle Ages, by the apparently incongruous epithet ofTheCH. III.] THE TEST OF TRUTH. 67Realism, because at that time it was most conspicuouslyillustrated in the famous theory that wherever there is ageneral term there must be a real objective thing corresponding to it, a general Horse, for example, in addition to allindividual horses. This single phase of the mental habit inquestion might be cited as an all-sufficient answer to Mr.Mill's objection. Mr. Mill would be the last to admit thatthe realists were able to conceive of Horse except as someparticular horse; yet they stoutly maintained that they couldand did frame such a conception. The Platonic theory ofIdeas was based upon this realistic tendency to lend anobjective value to the mere verbal signs of subjective conceptions, which was dominant in the philosophy of the Greeksand of the scholastics, and which, in modern times, is wellexemplified in the philosophy of Hegel.We thus see that men may believe-or believe that theybelieve-propositions which they cannot, in the strict senseof the word, conceive. Until men have become quite freedfrom the inveterate habit of using words without stopping torender them into ideas, they may doubtless go on assertingpropositions which conflict with experience; but it is nonethe less true that valid conceptions wholly at variance withthe subjective register of experience can at no time be framed.And it is for this reason that we cannot frame a conception ofnitrogen which will support combustion, or of a solid lump ofiron which will float in water, or of a triangle which is round,or of a space enclosed by two straight lines. So that whenMr. Mill hints that it was once possible for men to frameconceptions which cannot now be framed, he tacitly assumesthat conceptions may have been framed of which the elementshave never been joined together in experience. Yet of allpossible psychological theorems there is none, I suppose,which, when overtly stated , Mr. Mill would more emphaticallydeny than this. To see Mr. Mill unwittingly arrayed in thelists against the experience-theory is indeed a singular spec268 [PT. L COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.tacle; but it is only one instance, out of many, of the wayin which that theory has suffered from its association withempiricism. When in a future chapter we come to treat ofthe evolution of intelligence, we shall see that Mr. Spencerwas the first to penetrate to the very core of the experiencephilosophy when he perceived that the deepest warrant forthe perfect conformity of a given proposition with experienceis the unthinkableness of the counter-proposition.¹But now, what do we mean when we say that, aftereliminating all perturbing conditions, a proposition of whichthe negation is unthinkable must be necessarily true? By aconfusion of ideas very unusual with him, Mr. Mill seems tothink that we mean to accredit such propositions with expressing some necessary relation among objective realities per se,apart from their relation to our intelligence; for he somewherecharges Mr. Spencer with " erecting the incurable limitationsof the human conceptive faculty into laws of the outwarduniverse." When correctly interpreted, however, Mr. Spencerwill be found to have done no such thing. He simply erectsthem, as Mr. Lewes expresses it, into "laws of the conceptions we form of the universe. " Holding as we do, that allour knowledge is derived from experience, that we have noexperience of the objective order of the relations among things,and hence can never know whether it agrees or disagrees with1 Since my final revision of this chapter, I find the case thus admirably putinto a nut-shell by Mr. Lewes, in his now forthcoming work, Problems ofLife and Mind, vol. i. p. 396:—“ The arguments which support the à prioriview have been ingeniously thrown into this syllogism by Mr. Killick: The necessary truth of a proposition is a mark of its not being derived from Ex- perience. (Experience cannot inform us of what must be:) The inconceivability of the contradictory is the mark of the necessary truth of a proposi- ion: Therefore the inconceivability of its contradictory is a mark of a proposition not being derived from Experience. This syllogism is perfect in form,but has a radical defect in its terms. The inconceivability of a contradictoryresults from the entire absence of experiences on which a contradiction couldbe grounded. If there were any truths independent of Experience, contra.dictions to them would be conceivable, since there wld be no positiveobstacle to the conception; but a contradiction is incorivable only whenall Experience opposes itself to the formation of the contradictory con- ception. "CH. III.] THE TEST OF TRUTH. 69the subjective order of our conceptions, -it is passing strangethat we should ever have been called upon to correct sucha misinterpretation. All that Mr. Spencer or his followershave ever maintained is this: that although we have noexperience of the objective order in itself, we haveexperience of the manner in which the objective orderaffects us. Though we have no experience of noumena,we have experience of phenomena. And when experiencegenerates in us a subjective order of conceptions that cannotbe altered, we have the strongest possible warrant that theorder of our conceptions corresponds to the order ofphenomena. Expressed in this abstract terminology, theprecise shade of my meaning may be difficult to catch andfix; but a concrete illustration will, I trust, do away withthe difficulty. If the subjective order of my conceptions issuch that the concept of a solid lump of iron and the conceptof a body floating in water will destroy each other ratherthan be joined together, and I therefore say that a solid lumpof iron will not float in water, what do I mean by it? Do Iintend any statement concerning the unknown external thing,or things, which when acting upon my consciousness causesin me the perceptions of iron, and water, and floating orsinking? By no means. I do not even imply that suchmodes of existence as iron or water, or such modes of activityas floating or sinking, pertain to the unknown external realityat all. It is impossible for us to realize, but it is neverthelessimaginable, that to some form of impressibility quite differentfrom what we know as conscious intelligence, the same unknown reality might be manifested as something quitedifferent from iron or water, sinking or floating. By mystatement I only imply that whenever that same unknownthing, or things, acts upon my consciousness, or upon theconsciousness of any being of whom intelligence can beproperly predicated, there will always ensue the perception ofiron sinking in water, and never the perception of ironTOCOSMICPHILOSOPHY.[PT. I.floating in water. And in stating this, I only reveal my incapacity for conceiving that, under identical conditions, theUnknowable can ever act upon human intelligence otherwise than it has always acted upon it. In other words, Iam showing that I cannot transcend the limits of experience; and I am reaffirming, in the most emphatic manner,the relativity of all knowledge.We are now in a position to answer the queries whichwere propounded at the beginning of this chapter. At theoutset of our inquiry, Truth was provisionally defined asthe correspondence between the subjective order of our conceptions and the objective order of the relations amongthings. But this is the definition of that Absolute Truth,which implies an experience of the objective order in itself,and of such truth we can have no criterion. It was thiswhich Mr. Mill must have had in mind, when he let fall themuch criticized suggestion that in some distant planet thesum of two and two might be five. But such a statement isinadequate; for when we speak of planets and numbers, weare tarrying within the region of things accessible to intelligence, and within this region we cannot admit thepossibility of two and two making five. It is neverthelessimaginable that somewhere there may be a mode of existence,different from intelligence, and inconceivable by us becausewholly alien from our experience, upon which numericallimitations like ours would not be binding. The utterblankness of uncertainty in which such a suggestion leavesus may serve as an illustration of the theorem that we canhave no criterion of Absolute Truth, or of truth that is notcorrelated with the conditions of our intelligence.But the lack of any such criterion in no way concerns usas intelligent beings. The only truth with which we haveany concern is Relative Truth, —the truth that is implicatedwith whatever can in any way come within our cognizance,For relative truth our inquiry has established this criterionCH. 111.j THE TEST OF TRUTH. 71-When any given order among our conceptions is socoherent that it cannot be sundered except by the temporaryannihilation of some one of its terms, there must be acorresponding order among phenomena. And this, as wehave seen, is because the order of our conceptions is theexpression of our experience of the order of phenomena. Iwill only add that what we mean by reality is " inexpugnablepersistence in consciousness "; so that when the unknownobjective order of things produces in us a subjective orderof conceptions which persists in spite of every effort tochange it, the subjective order is in every respect as real tous as the objective order would be if we could know it. Andthis is all the assurance we need, as a warrant for science,and as a safeguard against scepticism. In the next chapterI shall endeavour to show that we are no whit the worse offfor not being able to transcend the conditions within whichalone knowledge is possible. Since " experience " meansinerely the consciousness of the manner in which the Unknowable affects us, it follows that our very incapability oftranscending experience is the surest guaranty we coulddesire of the validity of the fundamental conceptions bywhich our daily life is guided, and upon which our philosophymust be built.CHAPTER IV.PHENOMENON AND NOUMENON.SUMMING up the results of the foregoing discussion , we haveseen that neither the test of truth proposed by Hume, northat proposed by Kant, can be regarded as valid, consideredby itself; but that, when fused together in the crucible ofmodern psychologic analysis, the two can be regarded asmaking up a criterion of truth adequate to all the needs ofintelligent beings. It has been proved that, since the seriesof our conceptions is but the register of our experienceperfect congruity of experience must generate in us beliefsof which the component conceptions can by no mental effortbe torn apart. Whence it follows that, if relative truth bedefined as the correspondence between the order of our conceptions and the order of phenomena, we have this for ourtest of truth -When any given order among our conceptionsis so coherent that it cannot be sundered except by thetemporary annihilation of some one of its terms, there mustbe a corresponding order among phenomena. And this statenent, while it expresses the fundamental theorem of what isknown as the experience-philosophy, recognizes also a germof truth in the Kantian doctrine of necessity. When, in afuture chapter, the exposition of the Doctrine of Evolutionshall have advanced so far that we may profitably consider•CH. IV.] PHENOMENON AND NOUMENON. 73the nature of the process by which intelligence has arisen,we shall be enabled to carry much farther the reconciliation,here dimly foreshadowed, between the great opposing theoriesof the experientialists and the intuitionalists. Howeverdifficult it may be to realize that this apparently intermin.able controversy is at length to be decided and passed overas antiquated, like the yet longer dispute between Nominalism and Realism, it will nevertheless be shown that this isthe case. It will be shown that the Doctrine of Evolutionaffords the means of reconciling the psychology of Lockeand Hume with the psychology of Leibnitz and Kant, notby any half-way measures of compromise, but by fusing thetwo together in a synthesis deeper and more comprehensivethan either of them singly has succeeded in making.At present, however, merely hinting at these conclusionswhich are by and by to follow, we must address ourselvesto a yet more arduous task of reconciliation, --the task ofreconciling our ineradicable belief in the existence of something external to ourselves with the scientific reasoningwhich shows that we cannot directly know anything savemodifications of ourselves. We have to examine the theoryconcerning objective reality which, along with more or lessimportant qualifications, is held in common by Idealism, byScepticism, and by Positivism, as represented respectivelyby Berkeley, Hume, and Mill. And by characterizing, withthe aid of the principles now at our command, the fundamental error of that theory, we shall be enabled properly todefine the very different position held by Mr. Spencer andadopted in the present work.Our argument must concern itself chiefly with Berkeley,since the conclusion reached in dealing with his doctrinewill apply directly to the doctrine of Hume, and will pointthe way to the criticism needful to be made upon the doctrine of Mr. Mill. Indeed, as Mr. Mill has well remarked,there is a sense in which all modern philosophy may be said74 [PT. I. COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.1to date from Berkeley. To say nothing of his discovery ofthe true theory of vision, the first truth ever discovered inpsychology which stands upon the same footing as thedemonstrated truths of physical science; to say nothing ofthe magnificent arguments by which he brought to a closethe seven hundred years' war between the Realists andthe Nominalists; his doctrine of Idealism, the psychologicbasis of which has never been shaken, forms the pivot uponwhich all subsequent metaphysical speculation has turned.It is the first point which inevitably presents itself for discussion in any system of philosophy which, after settlingupon its criterion of truth, attempts with the aid thereof tofound a valid explanation of the relations of man with theCosmos of which he is a part. Nay more, it is, as Berkeleyhimself held, narrowly implicated with our theories ofreligion, though not in the way which Berkeley supposed,but in a way which he did not foresee, and could not havebeen expected to foresee.In characterizing the Idealism of Berkeley as contrary toour ineradicable belief in the existence of something independent of ourselves, it is well to note at the outset thatthe point of antagonism is not what-with extreme, thoughperhaps excusable carelessness-it was assumed to be byReid. The objective reality which Berkeley denied was notwhat is known as the external world of phenomena. WhatBerkeley really denied was the Absolute Existence of whichphenomena are the manifestations. He denied the Noumenon. " It is a mere abstraction, he says. If it is unknown,unknowable, it is a figment, and I will have none of it; forit is a figment worse than useless; it is pernicious, as the¹ Or, to speak more accurately, what Berkeley really denied was the scho- lastic theory of occult substrata underlying each group of phenomena. In this denial we maintain that he was right; but his denial was made in suchwise as to ignore the fact of an Absolute Existence of which phenomena are the manifestations, and herein, as we maintain, was his fundamental error.-an error which has been adopted by Positivism, and which vitiates that ystem of philosophy from beginning to end.CH. IV.]PHENOMENON AND NOUMENON. 75basis of all atheism. If by matter you understand thatwhich is seen, felt, tasted, and touched, then I say natterexists: I am as firm a believer in its existence as anyonecan be, and herein I agree with the vulgar. If, on the contrary, you understand by matter that occult substratumwhich is not seen, not felt, not tasted, not touched-that ofwhich the senses do not, cannot inform you then I say Ibelieve not in the existence of matter, and herein I differfrom the philosophers, and agree with the vulgar.” 1 The"grin," therefore, with which " coxcombs " sought to " vanquish Berkeley," revealed only their incapacity to understandhim. Nevertheless the antagonism between Idealism andcommon sense remains, though its position is shifted; asappears from the expressions of a very able idealist, thelate Prof. Ferrier, when he says that Berkeley sided withthose " who recognize no distinction between the reality andthe appearance of objects, and repudiating the baseless hypothesis of a world existing unknown and unperceived, he resolutely maintained that what are called the sensible shows ofthings are in truth the very things themselves. " 2 In thismode of statement the antagonism between Idealism andcommon sense is forcibly brought out, though the intentionof the writer was rather to insist upon their harmony. Foras the " very things themselves " which are known and perceived were held by Berkeley, and are still held by psychologists generally, to consist in modifications of our consciousness, it follows that, according to Berkeley, the onlyreal existence is mind with its conscious modifications.What common sense affirms is the existence of somethingindependent of our consciousness: but this is just whatBerkeley denied.Suppose now we grant, for the sake of the argument, thatthe only real existence is mind with its conscious modifica1 Lewes, History of Philosophy, 3rd edit. vol. ii. p. 284.Ferrier, Philosophica! Remains, vol. ii. p. 297.76 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY [PT. L. .tions. The question at once arises, what is the cause ofthese modifications? Since consciousness is continuallychanging its states, and indeed exists only by virtue of aceaseless change of states, what is it that determines thesequence of states? If, after the congeries of states ofconsciousness composing the knowledge that I am puttingout my hand in the dark, there supervenes the state of consciousness known as the feeling of resistance, what is it thatdetermines the sequence? According to Berkeley, it is thewill of God. God has predetermined for us the sequenceof states of consciousness, having so arranged things thatwhenever we ideally thrust an ideal head against an idealchimney- piece, the states of consciousness known as theperception of resistance and the sensation of headache, complicated with divers unpleasant emotional states, will necessarily ensue. Now for two reasons this is an explanationwhich science cannot recognize. In the first place, it iseither a restatement, in other words, of the very fact whichis to be explained, or else it substitutes a cumbrous explanation, involving a complex group of postulates, for the simpleordinary explanation which involves but a single postulate.In the second place, it is a hypothesis which can be neitherproved nor disproved; and, as we shall hereafter see, all suchhypotheses must be regarded as illegitimate. But, unlesswe admit the existence of an external reality, is there anyalternative hypothesis? Must we not accept Berkeley'sexplanation, in default of any other?There is one alternative hypothesis, and only one. AsBerkeley drew his idealism from Locke, so when Kantdemonstrated that we cannot know the objective reality,Fichte drew the inference that the objective reality doesnot exist. Fichte, like Berkeley, held that the only realExistence is mind with its sequent conscious states. ButFichte differed from Berkeley in his explanation of thesequence of our states of consciousness. Fichte held thatTH. IV.] PHENOMENON AND NOUMENON. 77this sequence is determined by itself—that it depends uponthe internal constitution of the mind. Or, in other words,he maintained that the subject creates the object. Fromthis doctrine have lineally descended all the vagaries ofmodern German idealism-vagaries of method as well asvagaries of doctrine, as anyone may see who, after somefamiliarity with scientific methods, looks over the so- called"Nature-philosophy " of Schelling and Oken. Its extremecorcllaries have been stated by Hegel, who, if I do notmisinterpret him, regards the universe as nothing but theself-determined sequence of states of consciousness of anAbsolute Intelligence, of which our individual intelligencesare partial manifestations. Manifestly we have here arrivedat logical suicide. We begin, with Kant, by saying that wehave no knowledge of the objective order of things; we continue, with Fichte, by saying that there is no objective order,save that which the mind creates for itself; and we end, withHegel, by identifying the objective order with the subjective,and maintaining that whatever is true of the latter is truealso of the former. In saying this, we virtually maintainthat the possibilities of thought are not only coextensive butidentical with the possibilities of things; and thus destroythe doctrine of relativity with which we started. The postKantian idealism may therefore be described as a linearseries of corollaries, the last of which destroys the axiomupon which the first of the series rests.A similar suicide must be the fate of any doctrine ofidealism. We often hear it said that Berkeley's clearscientific reasoning has never been, and can never be, refuted. This is to a certain extent true. What never hasbeen, and never can be, refuted, is the clear scientificreasoning by which Berkeley proves that we cannot knowthe objective reality. What can be, and has already been,refuted, is the unphilosophic inference that there is noobjective reality. Reid, with his so called " Common- Sense78 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY [PT. L. .Philosophy," failed because he attacked the scientific doctrine instead of the unphilosophic inference. Out of sheerfright at what he considered the conspicuous absurdity ofBerkeley's position, Reid maintained that we do knowobjects per se; that in every act of perception the ovjective reality is immediately given in consciousness. Reidlaid great stress upon Locke's distinction, useful in somerespects, between the primary and secondary qualities ofmatter, and held that we know the first in themselves,although we know the second only in their effects uponour consciousness. Thus, while admitting that redness isonly the name of a state of consciousness produced in usby an unknown external agent, Reid insisted that, on theother hand, in our consciousness of weight or resistancewe know the external agent itself, and not merely a stateof consciousness. Plausible as this opinion appeared, notonly to the superficial Reid, but to that much abler thoughrather fragmentary thinker, Sir William Hamilton, it isnevertheless irreconcilable with some veryobvious psychological facts. To cite one or two examples from Mr.Spencer's " Principles of Psychology ": " The same weightproduces one kind of feeling when it rests on a passiveportion of the body, and another kind of feeling when supported at the end of the outstretched arm ." In which ofthese cases, then, do we know the real objective weight?We cannot know it in both, since in that case the substance of the two cognitions would be the same. Again,if one hand is laid palm downwards upon the table, and"a knuckle of the other hand is thrust down with some forceon the back of it, there results a sensation of pain in theback of the hand, a sensation of pressure in the knuckle,and a sensation of muscular tension in the active arm.Which of these sensations does the mechanical force in1 Even the great Locke had not freed himself from this error. See theEssay on Human Understanding, book ii. chap. viii.CA. IV.] PHENOMENON AND NOUMENON. 79action resemble, qualitatively or quantitatively? Clearly,it cannot be assimilated to one more than another of them;and hence must in itself be something alien from, or unrepresentable by, any feeling." 1This disposes of Reid, who was indeed but an indifferentpsychologist, and rested his refutation of Berkeley chieflyupon misplaced ridicule and equally misplaced appeals tocommon sense. He tauntingly asked why the great idealistdid not illustrate his doctrine by walking over a precipice orthrusting his head against a lamp- post, as if Berkeley hadever denied that such a congeries of phenomenal actionswould be followed by disastrous phenomenal effects. Nowonder that a philosophy founded upon such flimsy psychological analysis should never have obtained wide acceptanceamong trained thinkers; and no wonder that Idealism shouldstill by many persons be considered as unrefuted .It is by making the unphilosophic inference that becausewe cannot know the objective reality therefore there existsnone, that Idealism destroys itself. As long as we admitthat the possibilities of things are limited by the possibilitiesof thought, we cannot overturn Idealism: we must go onand grant that because we can form no conception of matterapart from the conditions imposed upon it by our intelligence, therefore no thing can exist apart from such conditions. As Prof. Ferrier forcibly states the case, " I defyyou to conceive anything existing unperceived. Attempt toimagine the existence of matter when mind is absent. Youcannot, for in the very act of imagining it, you include anideal percipient. The trees and mountains you imagine toexist away from any perceiving mind, what are they but thevery ideas of your mind, which you transport to some placewhere you are not? In fact, to separate existence from perception is radically impossible. It is God's synthesis, andman cannot undo it. " All this is equivalent to saying that1 Spencer, Principles of Psychology, vol. i. p. 206.80 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. L.we cannot " imagine an object apart from the conditionsunder which we know it. We are forced by the laws of ournature to invest objects with the forms in which we perceivethem. We cannot therefore conceive anything which hasnot been subject to the laws of our nature, because in thevery act of conception those laws come into play." Butwhen the idealist proceeds to infer that because we cannotconceive objects otherwise, therefore they cannot exist otherwise, he assumes that knowledge is absolute, and thus knocksaway the psychological basis upon which his premise wasfounded. If we would consistently refrain from violatingthe doctrine of relativity, we must state the idealist's premise, but avoid his conclusion. We admit that " the treesand mountains you imagine to exist away from any perceiving mind " do not really exist as trees and mountains exceptin relation to some perceiving mind. We admit that matterdoes not exist as matter, save in relation to our intelligence;since what we mean by matter is a congeries of qualitiesweight, resistance, extension, colour, etc.-which have beenseverally proved to be merely names for divers ways in whichour consciousness is affected by an unknown external agency.Take away all these qualities, and we freely admit, with theidealist, that the matter is gone; for by matter we mean,with the idealist, the phenomenal thing which is seen, tasted ,and felt. But we nevertheless maintain, in opposition to theidealist, that something is still there, which, to some possiblemode of impressibility quite different from conscious intelligence, might manifest itself as something wholly different from, and incomparable with, matter; but which,to anything that can be called conscious intelligence.must manifest itself as matter. We freely admit thatwhat we mean by a tree is merely a congeries of qualities that are visual and tactual, and perhaps odorous, sapidor sonorous If we were destitute of sight, touch, smell .1 Lewes, History of Philosophy, vol. ii. p. 802.OH. IV. ] PHENOMENON AND NOUMENON. 81taste, hearing, and muscular sensibility, all these qualitieswould cease to exist, and therefore the tree would cease to betree. But it does not follow that the Unknown Realitywhich caused in us these groups of sensations has ceased toexist. Our ineradicable belief is that it still exists, andwould assume the qualities which constitute tree as soon asour capacity of sensation were restored. And we recognize,as in accordance with the dictates of common- sense, the suggestion that if some Being with seventy senses, like thedenizen of the planet Saturn in Voltaire's inimitable satire,were to come into the presence of this same UnknownReality, there would undoubtedly arise in this Being theconsciousness of a congeries of qualities different from thatwhich constitutes tree. We further recognize that if thisBeing were endowed with some mode of impressibility sodifferent from ours that the name " intelligence " would notapply to it, this same Unknown Reality might generate insuch a Being some state or states wholly different from whatwe know as the cognition of a material object. I say, weregard these conclusions as consistent with that extendedand systematized common-sense which is called science. Instating them, we assert, to the fullest extent to which theexigencies of human language will admit of our asserting it,the relativity of all knowledge; and we admit everythingwhich the idealists have established upon the sound basis ofpsychologic induction. What we refuse to admit is the legitimacy of the idealist's inference that the Unknown Realitybeyond consciousness does not exist. We assert, on the contrary, that the doctrine of relativity cannot even be intelligibly stated without postulating the existence of this Unknown Reality, which is independent of us. The propositionthat the tree or the mountain exists as tree or mountain onlyin so far as it is cognized, becomes utter nonsense when weseek to suppress the conception of a persistent Somethingwhich becomes tree or mountain in being cognized.VOL. I. GCOSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. L.Before proceeding farther to develope this argument, wemay fitly include Positivism along with Idealism as opposedto the conclusion which we are about to defend. The position of Positivism with reference to this question has neverbeen definitely stated by Comte, or by his most eminent andconsistent disciple, M. Littré, and it may indeed be doubtedwhether, with all their remarkable endowments of anothersort, either of these thinkers has ever given evidence ofenough power of psychologic analysis to grapple with such aproblem. It is certain that M. Littré neither admits norunderstands (so as to state it correctly) the Spencerian doctrine that there exists an Unknowable Reality; and it willbe amply shown hereafter that Comte not only ignored theexistence of such a Reality, but implicitly and practicallydenied it. It is to Mr. Mill, who has on different occasionsgiven in his assent to nearly all the doctrines which are distinctively characteristic of the Positive Philosophy, that wemust look for an explicit declaration of the precise relationof Positivism to Idealism. Happily Mr. Mill has given us,in his work on the Hamiltonian philosophy, an elucidationof his views which leaves no room for misconception; andin his recent essay on Berkeley he has presented, in a singlesentence, the clue to the Positivist position. Among the unimpeachable discoveries which philosophy owes to Berkeley,says Mr. Mill, was that of "the true nature and meaning ofthe externality which we attribute to the objects of oursenses that it does not consist in a substratum supporting aset of sensible qualities, or an unknown somewhat, which,not being itself a sensation, gives us our sensations, but consists in the fact that our sensations occur in groups, heldtogether by a permanent law, and which come and go independently of our volitions or mental processes." Note thatMr. Mill does not endorse the Berkeleian denial of the objective reality. True to the fundamental canon of Positivismhe states merely the contents ofthe observed facts, which, asCH. IV.] PHENOMENON AND NOUMENON. 83we also admit, were correctly stated by Berkeley; but concerning the existence of the Unknowable Reality, which weregard as the inevitable implication of the observed facts, heis silent. And his silence, as well as his assertion, is strictlyin harmony with the spirit of Positivism.The distinction, then, between Idealism and Positivismmay be taken to be this. The former asserts that the unknowable objective reality is a mere figment of the imagination, while the latter refrains from making any assertion withreference to it. The former, therefore, tacitly violates thedoctrine of relativity by assuming that the possibilities of ourthinking are to be taken as the measure of the possibilitiesof existence: the latter perceives that such an assumption isillegitimate, but seeks to escape the difficulty by ignoring thequestion at issue. In other words, while unwilling to contravene the doctrine of relativity upon which it professes tofound itself, it is yet content to state but half the doctrine.Bearing this in mind, we may return to the argument,which will now be understood as directed against theposition which Idealism and Positivism hold in common.And we may observe, first, that the very sentence just quotedrom Mr. Mill affords a most excellent illustration of the impossibility of stating either the position of Idealism or thatof Positivism without implying the existence of that objective reality which the former would impugn and which thelatter would ignore. The sum of the whole matter, accordingto Mr. Mill, is " the fact that our sensations occur in groups,held together by a permanent law, and which come and goindependently of our volitions or mental processes." Howcomes it that our sensations occur in groups? Why is it thatthey are held together by a permanent law? And, above all,how does it happen that they come and go independently ofour volitions or mental processes? Suppress the notion of aSomething outside of consciousness which determines thisLoming and going of our sensations, and we have no alterna.G 284 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. {PT. L.tive but to regard them either as self-determined, which leadsas finally to Hegelism, or as not determined at all, which isinconceivable. Mr. Mill's statement is either nonsense, orelse it tacitly postulates that Absolute Existence which itovertly professes to ignore. It is as impossible, therefore, toignore as it is to deny Absolute Existence. Without assuming Something independent of consciousness, it is impossiblefor either Idealism or Positivism to state the theorem inwhich it is sought either to impugn or to ignore the existenceof anything beyond consciousness.The suicide to which Idealism or Positivism is inevitablydriven is further exhibited in the following citation from Mr.Spencer. After reminding us that all the arguments whichgo to demonstrate the relativity of knowledge set out byassuming objective existence, he goes on to say: “ Not a stepcan be taken towards the truth that our states of consciousness are the only things we can know, without tacitly oravowedly postulating an unknown Something beyond consciousness. The proposition that whatever we feel has anexistence which is relative to ourselves only cannot beproved, nay, cannot even be intelligibly expressed withoutasserting, directly or by implication, an external existencewhich is not relative to ourselves. When it is argued thatwhat we are conscious of as sound has no objective realityas such, since its antecedent is also the antecedent to whatwe are conscious of as jar, and that the two consequents,being unlike one another, cannot be respectively like theircommon antecedent; the validity of the argument dependswholly on the existence of the common antecedent as something that has remained unchanged while consciousnesshas been changing. If, after finding that the same tepidwater may feel warm to one hand and cold to the other,it is inferred that warmth is relative to our own nature andour own state, the inference is valid only supposing theactivity to which these different sensations are referred, isCH. IV.J PHENOMENON AND NOUMENON. 85an activity out of ourselves which has not been modified bvour own activities." One of two things must be asserted:-either the antecedents of each feeling, or state of consciousness, exist onlyas previous feelings or states of consciousness; or else they,or some of them, exist apart from, or independently of, conciousness. If the first is asserted, then the proof that whatever we feel exists relatively to ourselves only, becomesdoubly meaningless. To say that a sensation of sound anda sensation of jar cannot be respectively like their commonantecedent because they are not like one another, is an emptyproposition; since the two feelings of sound and jar neverhave a common antecedent in consciousness. The combination of feelings that is followed by the feeling of jar, isnever the same as the combination of feelings that is followed by the feeling of sound; and hence not having acommon antecedent, it cannot be argued that they are unlikeit. Moreover, if by antecedent is meant constant or uniformantecedent (and any other meaning is suicidal) then theproposition that the antecedent of sound exists only in consciousness, is absolutely irreconcilable with the fact that thefeeling of sound often abruptly breaks in upon the series offeelings otherwise determined, where no antecedent of thespecified kind has occurred. The other alternative, therefore,that the active antecedent of each primary feeling existsindependently of consciousness, is the only thinkable one.It is the one implicitly asserted in the very proposition thatfeelings are relative to our own natures; and it is taken forgranted in every step of every argument by which thisproposition is proved."“ Hence our firm belief in objective reality—a belief whichmetaphysical criticisms cannot for a moment shake. Whenwe are taught that a piece of matter, regarded by us as existing externally, cannot be really known, but that we can knowonly certain impressions produced on us, we are yet, by the86 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [FT. I.•relativity of our thought, compelled to think of these inrelation to a positive cause-the notion of a real existencewhich generated these impressions becomes nascent. Themomentum of thought inevitably carries us beyond conditioned existence to unconditioned existence; and this everpersists in us as the body of a thought to which we can giveno shape. At the same time that by the laws of thoughtwe are rigorously prevented from forming a conception ofabsolute existence, we are by the laws of thought equallyprevented from ridding ourselves of the consciousness ofabsolute existence; this consciousness being, as we here see,the obverse of our self-consciousness. And since the onlypossible measure of relative validity among our beliefs , is thedegree of their persistence in opposition to the efforts madeto change them, it follows that this which persists at alltimes, under all circ*mstances, and cannot cease until consciousness ceases, has the highest validity of any.'" 1We have now reached a point at which we may makespecific mention of the Scepticism of Hume, which is simplyIdealism carried a step farther, to the denial of the existenceof any subjective, as well as of any objective reality. It waseasy for Hume, in criticizing Berkeley, to show that we knowno more of Mind in itself than of Matter in itself; sincewhat we know is only our states of consciousness. Butwhen Hume proceeded to argue that nothing can be knownto exist save the series of impressions or states of consciousness which we interpret as occurring in ourselves, he fellinto the very same error of inference into which Berkeleyhad fallen. We may admit, with Hume, that we knownothing directly save modifications of consciousness. Changesof consciousness are indeed the materials out of which ourKnowledge is entirely built. But there can be no changesin our consciousness unless there exist something whichSpencer, Principles of Psychology, vol. i. p. 209; First Principles, Fi 03.06.CH. IV.] PHENOMENON AND NOUMENON. 67is changed, and something which causes the changes. Therecan be no impressions unless there exist a something whichis impressed and a something which impresses. Take awayfrom the argument all the terms which relate to real existence, and the argument becomes nonsense. The Sceptic,like the Idealist, cannot stir a step without admitting thatreal existence which he is striving to deny. Abolish objectand subject, and the states of consciousness vanish also.Abolish the noumenon, and the phenomenon is by the sameact annihilated.a Thus our ineradicable belief in the absolute existence ofSomething which underlies and determines the series ofchanges which constitutes our consciousness, rests upon thestrongest of foundations, -upon the unthinkableness of itsnegation. Thus it becomes apparent that the arguments ofthe Idealists and the Sceptics " consist of a series of dependentpropositions, no one of which possesses greater certainty thanthe single proposition to be disproved." Without postulatingAbsolute Being-existence independent of the conditions ofthe process of knowing-we can frame no theory whatever,either of internal or of external phenomena. And since, asI have already observed, what we mean by reality is " inexpugnable persistence in consciousness," it follows that Absolute Being is the Reality of Realities, and that we are justifiedin ever tacitly regarding it as such.But now, what do we mean by this affirmation of absolutereality independent of the conditions of the process of knowing? Do we mean to recur to the style of thinking in vogueanterior to Berkeley, and affirm, in language savouringstrongly of scholasticism, that beneath the phenomena whichwe call subjective there is an occult substratum Mind, andbereath the phenomena which we call objective there is anoccult substratum Matter? Our conclusion cannot be stated inany such form, and we need have no hesitation in acknowledging our debt of gratitude to Berkeley for having swept88 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [FT. Lphilosophy clean of such a rubbish of scholastic terminology.Our conclusion is simply this, that no theory of phenomena,external or internal, can be framed without postulating anAbsolute Existence of which phenomena are the manifestations. And now let us carefully note what follows. Wecannot identify this Absolute Existence with Mind, sincewhat we know as Mind is a series of phenomenal manifesta.tions: it was the irrefragable part of Hume's argument that,in the eye of science as in the eye of common- sense, Mindmeans not the occult reality but the group of phenomenawhich we know as thoughts and feelings. Nor can weidentify this Absolute Existence with Matter, since what weknow as Matter is a series of phenomenal manifestations; itwas the irrefragable part of Berkeley's argument that, inthe eye of science as in the eye of common- sense, Mattermeans not the occult reality but the group of phenomenawhich we know as extension, resistance, colour, etc. Absolute Existence, therefore, the Reality which persists independently of us, and of which Mind and Matter are thephenomenal manifestations, —cannot be identified either withMind or with Matter. Thus is Materialism included in thesame condemnation with Idealism.See then how far we have travelled from the scholastictheory of occult substrata underlying each group of phenomena. These substrata were mere ghosts of the phenomenahemselves; behind the tree or the mountain a sort of phancom tree or mountain which persists after the body of theperception has gone away with the departure of the percipientmind. Clearly this is no scientific interpretation of the facts,but is rather a specimen of naïve barbaric thought survivingin metaphysics. The tree or the mountain being groups ofphenomena, what we assert as persisting independently ofthe percipient mind is a Something which we are unableto condition either as tree or as mountain.And now we come down to the very bottom of the proCH. 1V.]PHENOMENON AND NOUMENON. 89blem. Since we do postulate Absolute Existence, and donot postulate a particular occult substance underlying eachgroup of phenomena, are we to be understood as implyingthat there is a single Being of which all phenomena, internaland external to consciousness, are manifestations? Suchmust seem to be the inevitable conclusion, since we are ableto carry on thinking at all, only under the relations of Difference and No-difference. We cognize any phenomenalobject, as tree or mountain, only through certain likenessesand unlikenesses among our states of consciousness; andonly through a revival of the same likenesses and unlikenesses can we represent the same object in memory orimagination. It may seem then that, since we cannot attribute to the Absolute Reality any relations of Difference, wemust positively ascribe to it No-difference. Or, what is thesame thing, in refusing to predicate multiplicity of it, do wenot virtually predicate of it unity? We do, simply becausewe cannot think without so doing. Nevertheless we mustbear in mind that the relations of Difference and No- difference under which we are compelled to do all our thinking,are relations just as subjective as any of the more complexrelations of colour, or resistance, or figure, which are built upout of them; and we cannot say that there exists, independently of consciousness, anything answering to what weknow as Difference or as No- difference. " This "—to quoteMr. Spencer-" is readily demonstrable. The sole elements,and the indissoluble elements, of the relation [of Difference]are these a kind of feeling of some kind; a feeling comingnext to it, which, being distinguishable as another feeling,proves itself to be not hom*ogeneous with the first; a feelingɔf shock, more or less decided, accompanying the transition.This shock, which arises from the difference of the two feelings, becomes the measure of that difference-constitutes byits occurrence the consciousness of a relation of difference,and by its degree the consciousness of the amount of dif90 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.[PT. Lference; that is, the relation of difference as present in censciousness is nothing more than a change in consciousness.How, then, can it resemble, or be in any way akin to, itssource beyond consciousness? Here are two colours whichwe call unlike. As they exist objectively the two coloursare quite independent-- there is nothing between themanswering to the change which results in us from contemplating first one and then the other. Apart from our consciousnessthey are not linked as are the two feelings they produce inus. Their relation as we think it, being nothing else than achange of our state, cannot possibly be parallel to anythingbetween them, when they have both remained unchanged." 1Since, therefore, the relations of Difference and No-difference, which lie at the bottom of our conceptions of unityand plurality, are shown to be subjective relations whichcannot be predicated of objective existence, it follows thatin strictness the Absolute Existence of which phenomena arethe manifestations cannot be regarded as either single ormultiple. Nevertheless, as was hinted a moment ago, by thevery relativity of our thinking we must speak of it as eitherthe one or the other. From this dilemma there is no escape.Yet, provided we recognize the purely symbolic character ofthe language employed, we may speak of Absolute Existencein the singular number; especially if we bear in mind thatby such a mode of expression we mean merely to indicatethat while the nature of That which is manifested in phenomena proves to be inscrutable, " the order of its manifestations throughout all mental phenomena proves to be the sameas the order of its manifestations throughout all materialphenomena. "" 2Here we touch upon a point which cannot profitably beconsidered until after we have expounded the axiom of thePersistence of Force and the Doctrine of Evolution which1 Spencer, Principles of Psychology, vol. i. p. 224,Spencer, op. cit. vol. i. p. 627.EH. IV.] PHENOMENON AND NOUMENON. 91is founded thereon. And before we can even begin withthis exposition, there remain to be discussed sundry preliminary questions, which will occupy us through severalchapters. For the present it will be enough for us to carryin mind, as the net result of the whole foregoing inquiry,the conclusion that the doctrine of relativity, when fullystated, affirms the objective existence of an UnknowableReality, of which all phenomena whatever are the knowable manifestations.With the statement of this conclusion, our chapter properly ends. It is desirable, however, that, before proceedingto consider the questions next in order, we should brieflysum up the results at which we have already arrived. Byadding a little here and a little there, now a definite outlineand now a bit of shading, we have gradually produced arough sketch of a general theory of things. The inquirywill proceed through future chapters, in the hope of slowlyconverting this rough sketch into a more or less finishedpicture; but for the moment we may advantageously take astep backward, and contemplate, in a single view, the maincharacteristics of our work.At the outset our philosophy was seen to be characterizedby the assertion that all knowledge is relative, —an assertionwhich carried with it the rejection of all ontological specula.tion, whether metaphysical or theological, concerning thenature of that which exists absolutely. But in thuscharacterizing our philosophy we went but half- way towardefining it. In order to know thoroughly what anything is,we must also know what it is not. Few philosophers, sincethe seventeenth century, have rejected the doctrine of.elativity. The footing upon which this doctrine standsesembles too much the footing upon which rest thelemonstrated truths of physical science, to admit of itsbeing explicitly rejected, unless by those bold spirits who,<98 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.[PT. Llike Hegel,¹ do not scruple to hurl their anathemas in theface of physical science itself. It is none the less quitepossible for the doctrine to be at the same time explicitlyasserted and implicitly ignored. Berkeley and Hume, Kantand Hamilton, and Comte, have one and all asserted therelativity of knowledge and the vanity of ontologicalspeculation. But our philosophy is not that of Kant, orHamilton, or Berkeley, or Hume, or Comte. It is not thephilosophy of Kant, for it denies that we can have anycriterion of truth save that which is furnished by perfectcongruity of experience. At the same time it differs inmany respects from the experience- philosophy which isassociated with the name of Locke; since it denies thatthe subject is the passive recipient of effects wrought bythe object, and, accepting the Leibnitzian view that thesubject actively cooperates with the object in each act ofcognition, it grounds upon this very fact its doctrine of therelativity of knowledge. In its criterion of truth also itdiffers from the experience-philosophy of Locke and Humeas represented to- day by Mr. Mill; for it finds its criterionof truth in that indissoluble coherence among inner phenomena, which, in accordance with the postulate that allknowledge is the product of experience, must have beengenerated by an equally indissoluble coherence among outerphenomena. Thus, too, it avoids the empiricism which hasin too many ways hampered the Lockian philosophy: forit keeps clear of the misconception that all truths aresusceptible of logical demonstration, and recognizes thefact that at the bottom of all proof there must be anEvon Hegel, indeed, in the following passage, admits the impossibility of knowing things in themselves:-" Das Dingansich als solches ist nicht Anderes als die leere Abstraction, von dem man allerdings nichts wissen kann,eben daran weil es die Abstraction von aller Bestimmung sein soll. "-Logik, ii. 127. The admission, however, is in Hegel's case utterly fruitless, since he falls into the same inconsistency as Kant, maintaining that we have a test of truth independent of experience, and thus setting up the Subjective Method, as will appear in the next chapter.CH. 1V. ] PHENOMENON AND NOUMENON. 93ultimate datum of consciousness which transcends proof.Thus our philosophy can be identified neither with that ofKant nor with that of Locke. Again, it differs from thephilosophy of Hamilton, both in other points not needfulto be mentioned, and in this, that it does not regard theassertion of the doctrine of relativity as compatible withthe assertion that we can know the primary qualities ofmatter otherwise than as modifications of our consciousness.But, while refusing to assist in this violation of the doctrineof relativity committed by the philosophy of Reid andHamilton, it refuses also to join in the very different violation of the doctrine which is committed by the philosophyof Berkeley and Hume. For while it admits, to the fullestextent, the position that we can never know the AbsoluteExistence of which phenomena are the manifestations, it atthe same time asserts that the doctrine of relativity cannoteven be intelligibly expressed unless Absolute Existence isaffirmed.In this last assertion our philosophy declares itself antagonistic to Positivism. For the Positive Philosophy, refusingto deal with anything beyond the immediate content ofobserved facts, utterly ignores the Absolute Existence whichis manifested in the world of phenomena, neither affirmingnor denying it. I shall point out hereafter the complicatedembarrassment in which this indifferent attitude has left thePositive Philosophy. It must suffice now to insist upon thefact that any philosophy which, like the system here expounded, affirms Absolute Existence is by such affirmationfundamentally distinguished from Positivism. Because ourphilosophy, like Positivism, rejects all ontological speculation; and because, like Positivism, it seeks to found itselfupon scientific doctrines and employ none but scientificmethods; and because, moreover, it is arrayed, like Positivism, in opposition to sundry popular metaphysical andtheological doctrines; it is customary to confound our philo94 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Lsophy with Positivism, and thus to accredit us with a whole.group of opinions which we unreservedly repudiate. Ourphilosophy, however, is quite as distinct from Positivism asit is from Idealism or Scepticism, or from the so - calledCritical Philosophy of Kant. In all these systems we recognize a germ of truth; to all of them we acknowledge ourindebtedness for sundry all-important suggestions; but tonone of them do we owe allegiance.In the case of Positivism, the error is, for reasons just nowindicated, one which is likely to be often committed. Andon this account I shall, in the course of the following exposition, have frequent occasion to examine and criticize theopinions characteristic of the Positive Philosophy. Bythe timewe have arrived at the end of our journey, no possible excusewill be left available for those who would seek to identify ourphilosophy with Positivism.IfBut now for this system of philosophy, which, in our crudeoutline- sketch, is seen to be different from the systems ofLocke, Berkeley, Hume, Kant, Hamilton, and Comte, somecharacteristic title is surely needed. There are, indeed, graveobjections to be urged against fettering philosophy withnames which may very soon come to connote divers unessential opinions of which philosophy would be glad to riditself. Nevertheless we cannot get along without names.only to avoid tedious circumlocution, some name is neededby which to designate this philosophy which has been rudelydelineated. The required name is suggested by the definitionof the scope of philosophy given in the second chapter ofthis work. It was there shown that, while acknowledging acommon genesis with science and with ordinary knowledge,philosophy has still to concern itself with those widest truthswhich hold throughout all classes of phenomena, and withwhich science, restricted as it is to the investigation of specialclasses of phenomena, is incompetent to deal. In otherwords, we declared the scope of our philosophy to be theCH. IV.] PHENOMENON AND NOUMENON. 95study of the universe or Cosmos; and in accordance withthis definition, we may £tly designate our philosophy asCosmic Philosophy. We shall hereafter discover in thisepithet sundry points of fitness not yet indicated . But forthe present we may go on to use the phrase whenever required, entrusting our complete justification to the inquirieswhich are to follow.stIn conclusion, let me say a few words in reply to theobjection, sometimes urged from metaphysical quarters, thatsuch a philosophy as this Cosmic Philosophy, here sketchedout, is not adequate to supply our highest intellectualneeds. At the bottom of this objection, as at the bottomof that persistent clinging to ontological speculations (inspite of their often- demonstrated worthlessness) which wefrequently meet with, there lies the vague half-defined beliefthat in giving up our knowledge of noumena or the Noumenon, we are leaving for ourselves nothing but shadows." We increase the seeming unreality of that phenomenalexistence which we can alone know, by contrasting it with anoumenal existence which we imagine would, if we couldknow it, be more truly real to us." But we are led astray bythe unavoidable ambiguity of words. To make a suppositionwhich savours somewhat strongly of hibernicism: —even if wecould know objects apart from the conditions imposed uponthem in the act of knowing, such (so-called) knowledgewould be utterly useless. This is admirably illustrated in apassage from Mr. Spencer's " First Principles " with which Ivill conclude this chapter:-"The maintenance of a correspondence between internalactions and external actions, which both constitutes our lifeat each moment and is the means whereby life is continuedthrough subsequent moments, merely requires that the agenciesacting upon us shall be known in their coexistences andsequences, and not that they shall be known in themselves.96 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. LIf x and y are two uniformly connected properties in someouter object, while a and b are the effects they producein our consciousness; and if while the property producesin us the indifferent mental state a, the property y producesin us the painful mental state b (answering to a physicalinjury); then, all that is requisite for our guidance, is, that≈ being the uniform accompaniment of y externally, a shallbethe uniform accompaniment of internally; so that when,by the presence of x, a is produced in consciousness, b, orrather the idea of b, shall follow it, and excite the motions bywhich the effect of y may be escaped. The sole need is thatand b and the relation between them, shall always answerto x and y and the relation between them. It mattersnothing to us if a and b are like x and y or not.be exactly identical with them, we should not be one whitthe better off; and their total dissimilarity is no disadvantage to us."Could theyObviously this same illustration will apply equally to caseswhere moral injury or intellectual error is to be avoided. Andsince the ultimate function of philosophy is to be the intellectual guide of our lives, -since our ultimate aim in ascertaining the relations of coexistence and sequence amongphenomena, is to shape our actions, physical, mental andmoral, in accordance with these relations, -it follows thatthe philosophy whose character and scope I have here indicated is sufficient for our highest needs. And thus we areled to the conclusion that the object of that metaphysicalphilosophy which seeks to ascertain the nature of things inthemselves, is not only unattainable, but would have noimaginable value, even if it could be attained. The properattitude of the mind, when face to face with the UnknownReality, is, therefore, not a speculative, but an emotionalattitude. It belongs, as we shall by and by more distinctlysee, not to Philosophy, but to Religion.·CHAPTER VTHE SUBJECTIVE AND OBJECTIVE METHODS.TOWARD the close of the preceding chapter I enumeratedsome of the principal characteristics which distinguish ourCosmic Philosophy, regarded as a synthesis of scientifictruths, from the various metaphysical systems which, byovertly or implicitly contravening the doctrine of relativity,have sought to arrive at some higher or remoter kind oftruth than that which the scientific coordination of experiences can furnish. So far as the psychology of the questionis concerned, the doctrine of relativity, with its various implications, has been expounded as fully as is needful for ourpurposes. But this fundamental doctrine has also an allimportant logical aspect, which we shall do well to considerin the present chapter. Having marked out the field towhich our inquiries must be confined, the next thing inorder is to indicate the Method upon which our inquiriesmust be conducted. The possession of a legitimate methodof research is even more important than the possession ofsound doctrine, since it is only through the former thatthe latter can be attained. Clearly we shall never reachTruth if we begin by mistaking our guide- post, and starton the road that leads to error. A false method leads tofalse doctrine which, reacting on the mind, confirms it inVOL I H98 COSMIC PILOSOPHY. [PT. Lthe employment of the false method. Hence the supremeimportance which the history of philosophy attaches to thosethinkers-like Aristotle, Bacon, Descartes, and Comte-whohave signalized themselves as the founders of new methods.And hence the immense influence, for good or for ill, whichsuch thinkers have exerted.The two general views of philosophy which it has beenthe aim of the previous chapters to exhibit in radical opposition and contrast, are still farther distinguished by theadoption of two very different methods of inquiry. Thatmetaphysical philosophy, which exhausts its energies in thevain attempt to frame tenable hypotheses concerning theobjective order of things, reaches its ephemeral conclusionsby the use of a method which, on grounds that will presentlyappear, is called the Subjective Method. The Cosmic Philosophy, which aims only to organize into a universal body oftruth the sum of general conclusions obtained by science,adopts as the only trustworthy guide for its inquiries themethod of science, which, in contrast to the other, is calledthe Objective Method. To describe these different methods,and thus to arrive at a clear notion of the practical distinction between a metaphysical and a scientific philosophy, isthe object of the present chapter.The subjective method rests upon the assumption thatthe possibilities of thought are coextensive or identical withthe possibilities of things. Having built upon some subjectivefoundation, assumed as axiomatic, a iven order of conceptions, it assumes that the order of phenomena must correspond to it. It is satisfied with confronting one thought withanother thought, and does not trouble itself to confront thethought with the phenomenon. If its hypothesis is made upof congruous elements, it takes it for granted that the internal congruity must be matched by an external congruity.It applies to the order of conceptions a logical, not an experimental test. If its conclusions flow inevitably from itsCH. V.] THE TWO METHODS. 99premises, it proclaims the conclusions as true, forgetting thatthe premises need testing as much as the inferences. It isever on its guard against fallacies of ratiocination, but everunprotected against fallacies of observation. If a conclusionis "involved in the idea," according to the current phrase, itassumes without challenge that it is also conformable to fact.That I may not be supposed to be caricaturing instead ofdescribing the only method which can enable us to stir onestep in ontological speculation, let me cite some of thecanons of that method, as enunciated by its most illustriousmasters.¹ """ There is one basis of science," says Descartes, one testand rule of truth, namely, that whatever is clearly and distinctly conceived is true. " Schelling tells us: " It is a fundamental belief that not only do things exist independentlyof us, but that our ideas so completely correspond with themthat there is nothing in the things which is not in ourideas." And now let us hear Hegel: " What is Truth?In ordinary language we name the concordance of an objectwith our conception of it, truth. In philosophical language,on the contrary, truth is the concordance of the meaningwith itself." Or, as one of Hegel's followers expresses it, inmore characteristic terminology: " Since the Whole is ideallyin the Mind, the I has only to yield itself to its I-hood, inorder to see the Absolute in itself as there immediatelygiven." To the same effect says Plato, in the Phædo: " Itseemed to me, therefore, that I ought to have recourse toreasons, and in them to contemplate the truth of things.Thus always adducing the reason which I judge to bestrongest, I pronounce that to be true which appears to meto accord with it; those which do not accord with it, I denyto be true." And in the Republic, he tells us: " Whenevera person strives by the help of dialectics to start in pursuit1 The illustrations given in the following paragraph may be found, along with others, in Mr. Lewes's excellent work on Aristotle, pp. 79-81, 103, 104.H 2100 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. 1:of every reality by a simple process of reason independentof all sensuous information, never flinching until by an actof pure intelligence he has grasped the real nature of good,he arrives at the very end of the intellectual world. "Plato furnishes an excellent illustration of the statementabove made, that a false method leads to false doctrine,which, reacting on the mind, confirms it in the employmentof the false method. From the fact that a comparativelyuninstructed mind can, with a little explanation, be made toperceive the necessary truth of a few simple geometricalaxioms, and to follow the steps of a demonstration foundedthereon, Plato, in that charming dialogue, the Meno, infersthat all knowledge is reminiscence. How could the uneducated youth have come by that knowledge which enableshim to see at once that when a square is divided by a linewhich bisects the two opposite sides, the two portions areequal? The naïve reply is, that he must have acquired it ina prior state of existence, when the soul, not yet encumberedwith the body, had free communion with Ideas. See whatan enormous hypothesis Plato erects upon a slender basis offact, and forthwith accepts as a justification of that verysubjective method by the aid of which it was erected. Forhe elsewhere tells us that since all knowledge is a revival ofpre-existent ideas, therefore " from any one idea we canarrive at all others, owing to the logical connection existingbetween them; " and in this conclusion he states the fundamental canon of the subjective method, as employed bymodern metaphysicians from Descartes to Hegel.This illustration shows us, in a curious and unexpectedway, how intimately the Method of the à priori metaphysician is wrapped up with his Psychology, and how closely akinto each other have been the multifarious manifestations ofthe two in ancient and modern times. Between the subjective method and the doctrine of the à priori characterof necessary truths the kinship is so close that Mr. Lewes isCH. v101.]THETWOMETHODS.justified in declaring that " all that has been written onmethod [from the scientific point of view] is imperilled ifthere can be any valid evidence for the existence of anavenue through which knowledge may be reached withoutrecourse to experience." Granting the à priori origin ofnecessary truths, the validity of the subjective method isestablished, at least so far as transcendental inquiries areconcerned. It is therefore interesting to observe the remarkable similarity between the positions held respectively byPlato, Descartes, and Kant, with reference to this twofoldquestion. In each case the psychological problem is toexplain the existence of knowledge, or at least of conceptive faculty, that is apparently congenital, and that is alsoapparently inexplicable as the product of individual experience. How does the uneducated youth come by his rapidintuition of space-relations? Plato, as we have seen, replieswith his hypothesis of reminiscence, Descartes with hishypothesis of innate ideas, and Kant with his hypothesisof à priori forms of thought; and between the three answers,in spite of the wide superficial divergences, how striking isthe fundamental similarity! We shall hereafter see how theDoctrine of Evolution, proceeding strictly upon the objectivemethod, supplies us with an interpretation which adequatelyaccounts for the phenomena, but which leaves no room forthe inferences which metaphysicians, from Plato to Kant,have founded thereon. Meanwhile, it has already beensufficiently proved that the universality and necessity ofunconditional propositions, whether relating to space-relationsor to any other relations whatever, must inevitably resultfrom absolute uniformity in the organic registration ofexperiences, and therefore does not involve any à priorielement.For the present, returning to Plato, let us note some oftheresults to which his method not unnaturally led him, espetially as we shall thus perceive the true affiliation of modern102 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY [PT. L. .metaphysics upon the crude attempts of the ancients atgeneral science, in so far as concerns the method employed."We open the Timæus," says Mr. Lewes, " and learn thatthe Universe was generated as an animal, with a soul,because that was best. Whatever is generated must necessarily have body, and be visible no less than tangible.Nothing can be visible without Fire, nothing tangible without a Solid, nothing solid without Earth. Thus the firststep in creation was the production of two elements. Butit is impossible for two things to cohere without the intervention of a third. A bond is necessary, and of all bondsthe most beautiful is that which as nearly as possible unitesinto one both itself and the things bound. Had the substanceof the universe been a superficies without depth, one mediumor bond would have sufficed: but as it was a solid , and solidsare never one only, but always joined by two bonds, therefore the Creator placed Water and Air between Fire andEarth. These are the Four Elements, and the reason hasbeen given why they are only four. The elements arefashioned into a perfect sphere, because the sphere is themost perfect of figures, and most resembles itself. Althoughthis universe was made an animal, it was made becomingand congruous. Hence it had neither eyes nor ears, therebeing nothing external for it to see and hear; no lungs, for itneeded not respiration; no digestive organs; no secretoryorgans; no feet, for its motion is peculiar, namely circular,and circular motion requires no feet, since it is not progression. The mathematicians having discovered the fiveregular solids; Plato naturally made great use of them inhis cosmology. Four of them were represented by the fourelements-the Earth was a Cube, Fire a Tetrahedron, Wateran Octahedron, and Air an Icosahedron. This left the fifth,the Dodecahedron, without a representative; accordingly, itwas assigned to the universe as a whole. .. It is needlessto add that Plato never thinks of offering any better reason•CH. V.] THE TWO METHODS 103for these propositions than that they are by him judgedsufficient. If one of his hearers had asked him why watermight not be a cube, and air an octahedron,—or what proofthere was of either being one or the other, he wouldhave replied ' It is thus I conceive it. This is best.'¹ Letus proceed. The universe, we learn, has a soul which movesin perpetual circles. Man also has a soul which is but aportion thereof, consequently it also moves in circles. Tomake the resemblance more complete, man's soul is alsoenclosed in a spherical body,-namely, the head. But thegods foresaw that this head, being spherical, would roll down.the hills and could not ascend steep places; to prevent this, abody with limbs was added, that it might be a locomotivefor the head. " 2It will perhaps be said that such speculations as thesecould not be found in the writings of any modern philosopher,no matter what his method might be; yet in view of certainvagaries presently to be cited from Hegel and Comte, it willhardly be safe for us to seek refuge in any general assertionas to the superiority of the moderns over the ancients insobriety of philosophizing. These speculations of Platoexhibit in strong relief the treacherousness of the subjectivemethod when left to itself and allowed to range at large overthe field of phenomena. In ancient times there was no organized physical knowledge to stand in the way of such vagariesas thosejust cited. In modern times there exists an immensebody of established scientific truth which checks the naturalextravagance of the intellect left to itself. Moreover, as thesubjective and objective methods have always coexisted, andas one has never been exclusively employed without the other,the majority of systems have worn a semblance of probability which prevents their shocking us like the almost1 It is to be noted, however, that this wildest use ofthe subjective method naracterized Plato chiefly in his old age, wher, like Comte, he had begun te Assume a pontifical tone. Of this more anon.Lewes, Aristotle, p. 105.104 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. L.purely subjective system of the Platonic Timaios. Nevertheless, that even modern science, in all the plenitude of itspower, is unable to rein in the obstinately metaphysical mind,may be seen in the following morsel from Hegel, of allmodern thinkers the most consistent in his adherence to thesubjective, and in his scorn of the objective, method. " Thesubstance or essence of matter," says Hegel, " is Gravity; thatof spirit is Freedom. But matter is only heavy inasmuchas it tends to a centre. It is composite; its very existenceis external to itself-sie besteht ausser einander. Thus theessence of matter consists in the search for a unity whichwould be its destruction. " Speculations of this sort wouldnot carry us very far toward the construction of a science ofmechanics. Yet they are quite in keeping with the fundamental tenet “that Nature being only the result of the ideaof a Creative Intelligence from which we ourselves emanate,we may, without the assistance of experience, and by ourpure intellectual activity, find the Creator's ideas."Compare also these explanations which the subjectivemethod gives of the crying of newly-born infants. Physiologyexplains this crying as the result of the novel impression ofthe cool atmosphere upon the surface of the infant's body,and of the sudden inrush of air into the lungs, which combine to excite the reflex action of screaming. If there isanything distinctly psychical about it—which is in thehighest degree improbable-it could be merely a sub-conscioussense of discomfort. But according to Hegel, the cry of thechild just born indicates "a revelation of his exalted nature. ""His ideas being excited into activity, (1) the child feelshimself straightway penetrated with the certitude that hehas a right to exact from the external world the satisfactionof his needs, that the external world compared to the soulamounts to nothing." According, however, to Hegel's follower,Michelet, the cry of the new-born child reveals " the horrorfelt by the soul at being enslaved to nature; " or according toCH. V.] THE TWO METHODS. 105another German writer, it is an outburst of wrath on thepart of the new-comer at finding himself powerless againstenvironing circ*mstances! Wherein is all this better thanthe cosmological vagaries of Plato? Or wherein is it betterthan the speculations of those early Christian theologians whoadduced the crying of the new-born babe in proof of itsinnate wickedness, and erected thereupon an argument insupport of the doctrine that the unbaptized child is in dangerof damnation?These wilder extravagances of the subjective method mayserve to illustrate for us the close kinship between metaphysics and mythology, and to justify the pregnant observation of Mr. Chauncey Wright, that the method of the d prioriphilosopher is but an evanescent form of the method employedby the barbarian in constructing his quaint theories of theuniverse. When deeply considered, the subjective method,whether employed by the metaphysician or by the mythmaker, will be seen to consist in following the lead of a trainf associated ideas, without pausing to test the validity ofthe association by interpreting the ideas in terms of sensibleexperiences, or, in other words, without confronting theorder of conceptions with the observed or observable order ofphenomena. As I have elsewhere observed, "it is throughthe operation of certain laws of ideal association that allhuman thinking, that of the highest as well as that of thelowest minds, is conducted; the discovery of the law ofgravitation, as well as the invention of such a superstition asthe Hand of Glory, is at bottom but a case of association ofideas. The difference between the scientific and the mythoLogic inference consists solely in the number of checks whichin the former case combine to prevent any other than thetrue conclusion from being framed into a proposition to whichthe mind assents. Countless accumulated experiences havetaught the modern that there are many associations of ideaswhich do not correspond to any actual connection of cause106 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Land effect in the world of phenomena; and he has learnedaccordingly to apply to his newly- framed notions the rigidtest of Verification. Besides which the same accumulationof experiences has built up an organized structure of idealassociations into which only the less extravagant newlyframed notions have any chance of fitting. The primitiveman, or the modern savage who is to some extent hiscounterpart, must reason without the aid of these multifarious checks. That immense mass of associations whichanswer to what are called physical laws, and which in themind of the civilized modern have become almost organic,have not been formed in the mind of the savage; nor has helearned the necessity of experimentally testing any of hisnewly-framed notions, save perhaps a few of the commonest.Consequently, there is nothing but superficial analogy toguide the course of his thought hither or thither, and theconclusions at which he arrives will be determined byassociations of ideas occurring apparently at hap-hazard.¹Hence the quaint or grotesque fancies with which Europeanand barbaric folk- lore is filled, in the framing of which themyth-maker was but reasoning according to the best methodsat his command." 2 Obviously the broad contrast here indicated between modern and primeval thinking is at bottomsimply the contrast between the use of the objective and thesubjective methods, -between the constant recourse to experimental tests and the implicit reliance upon mere subjectivecongruity.But it may fairly be urged that we ought to consider the66 "1 Do we not see here howclose is the connection, psychologically, betweendreaming, insanity, myth- making, and reasoning according to the subjective method? It is not without reason that we commonly speak of the dreamsof metaphysicians; and the distinguishing mark of insanity is the inability to test the validity of one's conceptions by confronting them with the pheno- mena. On the other hand it is in constantly applying the test of Verification that waking- thought, common-sense, and scientific reasoning exhibit their kinship with one another.• Myths and Myth-makers, p. 216.UH. V.} THE TWO METHODS. 107subjective method as exhibited in some of its more plausibleproceedings, if we would properly contrast it with the objectivemethod by which scientific discoveries are made. Let us doso; and, as we have just now alluded to the discovery of thelaw of gravitation as an instance of association of ideascorroborated by the employment of the objective method, letus choose our example from the history of that discovery.Doubtless the reasoning seemed very sound and plausible tothe Greeks, which, starting from the assumptions that thecircle is the most perfect of figures, and that all motion isnaturally circular, proceeded to the inferences that theplanets move in circular orbits, and that their motion isuniform. For twenty centuries this reasoning passed unchallenged. Until Kepler's time no one thought it necessaryto make observations and ascertain whether, as a matterof fact, the planetary orbits were circular; nor previous toGalileo did any one think of verifying the premise that allmotion is naturally circular; nor did it occur to any one thatthe conclusion might not inevitably follow from the premise,-since the planets might, as in fact they do, move in anorbit which is not the natural path of motion when uninterferedwith. Now mark how ill it fared with this subjective orderof conceptions as soon as it was confronted with the order ofphenomena. In the first place, Galileo proved, by reasoningupon direct observations, that all motion is naturally rectilinear, and not circular,-that, if you could set a bodymoving, apart from all disturbing conditions, it would go onfor ever in a straight line. This destroyed the premise of thesubjective syllogism. Secondly, Kepler proved, by actualobservation, that the planets do not move in circular orbits,with a uniform rate of velocity; but that they move inelliptic orbits, with a velocity which periodically increasesand diminishes. This upset the subjective conclusion. Andthirdly, the passage from premise to conclusion was seen tohave been wrongly made, since while the planets would108 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Lnaturally move in straight lines (supposing the motion ofeach one to be independent), they do actually move inellipses.In this example is seen the essential vice of the subjectivemethod, the feature by which it is distinguished from theobjective method. It ignores Verification, which is thecomparison, by means of observation, experiment and deduction, of the order of conceptions with the order of phenomena.Now verification is the great engine of the objectivemethod. That method takes little heed of the Cartesianmaxim, that whatever complex proposition can be distinctlyformulated must be true; the history of science having onlytoo frequently shown that a proposition may be verydistinctly formulated and yet be false. " That the velocityacquired by a falling body, at any point, must be proportionalto the space through which it had fallen," was a very distinctand plausible hypothesis, so long as it was not confrontedwith the phenomena. Yet it did not withstand the application of the test of truth, " since its negation was thinkable,and there was the equally distinct idea of the velocity beingproportional to the time by which to oppose it. Thencame the necessity for verification; " and by this criterionGalileo ascertained that the first-named conception-the onewhich had been held by the ancients-was erroneous, " andalthough the alternative conception which replaced it wasnot more intelligible, it had the supreme advantage of beinga more accurate description of the order of nature." Therefore " in all verifiable cases we dare not be confident that anexplanation is true because its truth seems possible. Ourconceptions of possibility are too contingent to form a secureground of deduction. Thus, to Galileo, it at first seemedpossible that velocity must be proportional to space, because,in so conceiving it, he had not distinctly visible to his mindall the elements of the problem; in other words, all thepossibilities." But when, in the process of verification theB. 7.]THETWOMETHODS.109omitted elements of the case were brought before the mind,he discovered " that the seeming possibility was a fiction.”The other alternative, that velocity is proportional to time,was found to be the true one, and the only one which couldwithstand the application of the test of truth. The counterproposition, that the velocity is not proportional to the time,¹is strictly unthinkable. For it involves the assertion thatthe same amount of gravitative force will cause, in a givensecond of time, an increment of velocity which is eithergreater or less than the increment of velocity which it willcause in the succeeding second. We are required to suppose,in the first case, an addition to the velocity without anyaddition to the force which causes it; in the second case, weare required to suppose a subtraction from the velocity.without any subtraction from the force; and therefore, ineither case, we are required to frame in thought an equationbetween something and nothing,-which is impossible.Thus the objective method starts by verifying its premise;and, not content with any apparent congruity in its syllogisticprocesses, it does not definitely accept the conclusion untilthat also has been confronted with the phenomena. And, ifin the verified conclusion there is involved an unexplainedresiduum, far from giving up its conclusion out of deferenceto some imaginary subjective necessity, it acknowledges theneed of a new search in order to account for such residuum.The old conclusion, that planetary motion is circular anduniform because motion is naturally circular and uniform, leftno unexplained residual phenomenon. As an explanation itwas complete, though utterly false. If asked why theplanets move in circles with a uniform velocity, the ancientsTo speak of the velocity as proportional to the time is, however, a some- what lax use of mechanical terminology. Strictly speaking, the velocity is aunction of the time and of gravity. Since gravitative force increases as the hody approaches the earth, there are increased increments of velocity in suc- tessive equal times. Introducing this correction into the sentences which allow, the reasoning becomes strictly accurate.110 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [FT. Lmight have replied, and in fact did reply, that it is becausetheir motion is uninterfered with. On the other handKepler's theorem, that planetary motion is elliptical andrhythmically accelerated and retarded although motion isnaturally rectilinear and uniform, left an unexplained residualphenomenon. As an explanation it was true, but it wasincomplete. When asked why the planets do not move instraight lines with uniform velocity, Kepler recognized adifficulty which must be explained, and which he tried tosolve. In his perplexity he had recourse to the subjectivemethod, and suggested that the planets were perhaps livinganimals moved by their own volitions, or else that, as manyof the Christian Fathers thought, they were controlled intheir movements by presiding archangels. Could we readall the unwritten annals of that time, we should doubtlessfind that many educated persons rejected Kepler's discoverieson account of this unexplained residuum; attaching &higher value to the mutual congruity of a set of conceptionsthan to their verification. And in fact we know that manyrefused to accept the discovery of the accelerated andretarded motion of the planets, on the subjective groundthat it was " undignified " for heavenly bodies to hurry andslacken their pace according to Kepler's law. Now markthe different behaviour of the objective method. Attachinga higher value to ascertained conformity with observationthan to any presumed subjective congruity of conceptions,Newton recognized the “ unnatural " elliptic motion of the1 On similar grounds the Aristotelians denied the existence of the solar spots; it being impossible " that the Eye of the Universe should suffer fromophthalmia. " See Proctor, The Sun, p. 163.- " How can we admit that Nature could so restrict herself as to form all organic and inorganic combina- tions in the mould of four substances, chosen at hazard, --hydrogen, hydro- chloric acid, water, and ammonia, —and to produce nothing but variations on these four themes? " Remark of Kolbe, cited in Wurtz, Introduction toChemical Philosophy, p. 97. -And in like manner we sometimes hear sillypeople reject the Darwinian theory on grounds of " dignity, "-it being sup posed that we are, in some incomprehensible way, " degraded " by the dis covery that our remote ancestors were dumb beasts.CH. V. THE TWO METHODS. 111planets and the " unnatural " variations of that motion asresidual facts which needed to be explained by a verifiablehypothesis. Since the planets are deflected at every instantfrom the rectilinear paths in which their own momentumwould for ever carry them, there must be some unknownforce acting in composition with their momentum. What jethat unknown force? That it was the same as the forcewhich causes apples to fall, that it varied in amount in aninverse ratio to the square of the distance between the sunand the planet, and would therefore cause acceleration orretardation of velocity according as the planet in its ellipticpath approached or receded from the sun,-all this was amost brilliant hypothesis, alleging no unverifiable agency,disposing of the unexplained residual phenomena, andmaking the Keplerian order of conceptions completely congruous. According to the subjective method, this was quiteenough. And doubtless if Newton's mind had been constructed like Hegel's he would at once have announced hisdiscovery on the strength of its presumed subjective necessity,and would have left it for some other more patient inquirer toverify its truth. But Newton, rigorously adhering to theobjective method, saw that this was not enough. No matterhow perfectly congruous the subjective order of conceptionsmay be in itself, it must be confronted with the observedorder of phenomena and be shown to be congruous withthat. According to the hypothesis the moon must bedeflected on the average fifteen feet each minute from itsnatural rectilinear path. But Newton's own observationsshowed that this is not the case: the moon is deflectedthirteen feet in each minute, and thus was revealed adiscrepancy between the order of conceptions and the orderof phenomena. It must ever be regarded as a truly sublimeillustration of the exalted scientific character of Newton'sintellect, that in an age when the inexorable requirements ofscientific method were generally so little understood, he laid112 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. (PT. L.aside for many years his brilliant and plausible conjecture,as being a hypothesis which observation refused to verify.It was thirteen years after this first abortive effort had beenmade, that Picard's careful measurement of an arc of the meridian revealed the fact that the length of the earth's radius,and consequently the distance of the moon, had hitherto beeninaccurately estimated. Thus Newton was enabled to resumehis calculations, and by introducing the corrections nowrendered necessary, to ascertain that the amount of themoon's deflection, caused by the earth's attractive force,should be on the average thirteen feet per minute; as observation had shown to be the case. Thus, by the patient application of the objective method, the hypothesis of gravitationwas verified, and became an expression of the observed orderof phenomena.I have dwelt at some length upon this concrete example,because it furnishes such manifold illustration of thedifference between the metaphysical and the scientific modesof procedure. When rightly considered, it will also enableus to estimate at their proper value the claims of Bacon tobe regarded as the chief inaugurator of modern philosophy,as well as the criticisms made upon those claims by Bacon'sdetractors. We frequently hear it said, on the one hand,that Bacon's great merit consisted in overthrowing theDeductive Method practised by the ancients, and in substituting for it the Inductive Method, upon which all modernscientific discoveries have been made. Now such assertionsimply a total misconception of the true state of the case;and perhaps we cannot wonder that some critics believe that,in overthrowing them, they have removed Bacon from thehigh position which he has hitherto traditionally occupied.But this is a misconception as great as the other. The truthis, Bacon's admirers have advanced in his behalf claimswhich should never have been made; while, on the otherhand, his detractors, in showing the futility of these claims,OH, V.] THE TWO METHODS. 113have not really succeeded in taking away one jot or tittle ofhis rightful fame. In point of fact it was not Bacon's greatmerit, but his great deficiency, that he held in comparativelyslight esteem the deductive method. This method is astrustworthy and as powerful as the inductive, provided itstarts from verified premises, and ends by verifying itsconclusions. Indeed in several ofthe sciences inductionplays a quite subordinate part. Mathematics, mechanics andastronomy (so far, at least, as relates to the dynamics of thesolar system) are almost purely deductive sciences, and inthe chief problems of biology and political economy deduction is predominant. It was chiefly through deduction thatNewton reached the law of gravitation, that Harveydiscovered the circulation of the blood, that Goethe arrivedat his grand generalizations concerning animal and vegetalmorphology, and that Adam Smith obtained the fundamentalprinciples of political economy, These facts are well knownto Bacon's adversaries, who remind us also that, unlikeDescartes, he never made any discoveries himself, and whofurther assert, with some exaggeration, that he never evenworked out a scheme of induction which could be adoptedand utilized by subsequent thinkers. It is true that Baconnever mastered any one science, as Descartes and Leibnitzmastered mathematics. Knowing little of mathematics heunderrated the deductive method, which moreover had notyet been illustrated by the splendid triumphs of astronomyand physiology, and which to his mind was chiefly exemplifiedin what seemed to him the barren word-battles of thescholastic metaphysicians. It is also true that Bacon didnot construct a thorough system of inductive logic wherebyto illustrate his method. That great achievement wasreserved for Comte and Mill; and indeed would have beenutterly impossible at any time before the present century.during which the methods of the two chief inductive sciences,chemistry and molecular physics, have first been practicallyVOL. 1. I114 [FT. LCOSMIC PHILOSOPHY.exemplified. All this we may cheerfully admit, withoutfeeling called upon to abate our veneration for Bacon in theleast. For after all this has been granted, the fact stillremains that Bacon saw, more clearly than any of his greatcontemporaries, that the subjective method had beendefinitely weighed in the balance and found wanting, andthat henceforth Verification must be insisted on as theessential prerequisite for every trustworthy conclusion. Thiswas the all -important truth which Bacon set forth again andagain, impressing it upon men's minds with that majesticeloquence and prodigious fertility of illustration whichcharacterize all his philosophical writings. Nor was he blindto the inevitable results of banishing the subjective method.Bacon saw and declared that ontological inquiries, as notadmitting of verification, must be condemned as fruitless;and he was the first to form that grand conception ofphilosophy, as an organic whole of which the sciences andscientific methods are the organs, which I endeavoured todescribe in the second chapter of this work.The popular misconception of the nature of Bacon'sachievements rests upon a not unnatural confusion betweenthe subjective and the deductive methods. The subjectivemethod is indeed mainly deductive, but that is not thesource of its weakness. It is not in reasoning downwardfrom a general proposition to a special conclusion that thedanger lies. The danger is in reasoning from an unverifiedpremise to a conclusion which you do not stop to verify.Here we come upon the weak point in the system ofDescartes. A mathen.atician whose genius and achievements have perhaps never been equalled save by Newton,Leibnitz, and Lagrange, -Descartes was not likely to underrate the value of deduction; but he overlooked the necessityfor constant verification. Though his scientific career wasfar more brilliant than Bacon's-if, indeed, the latter can besaid to have had any scientific career-his conception ofJH. V.] THE TWO METHODS. 115philosophy was far less defensible than Bacon's conception.He admitted the necessity of verification in the so- calledphysical sciences; but between physiology and psychologyhe drew an arbitrary line, and thought that in the so-calledmoral sciences which lie beyond that line, verification mightsafely be dispensed with. Here, in this higher region, hesaid, all we have to do is first clearly to conceive somepremise, and then to reason away ad libitum, as in mathematics, never fearing that the order of conceptions may notcorrespond with the order of phenomena. And this view ofmetaphysical method is grounded upon the psychologicalerror, that in our transcendental or extra- sensible conceptionsof Space, Time, Causality, etc., we possess " innate ideas "endued with a validity quite independent of experience, sothat inferences logically deduced from such " innate ideas "can afford to dispense with objective verification.¹ Theresults of these incompatible teachings are written in history.In science Descartes has been the forerunner of Euler,D'Alembert, Lagrange, Laplace, Fresnel, Leverrier, andHelmholtz in philosophy he has been the forerunner ofSpinoza and Malebranche, Schelling and Hegel.The subjective method, as ' laid down by Descartes, hasbeen carried out in metaphysics by no one more rigorouslythan by Spinoza, the most inexorable in logical consistencyof all metaphysicians. With mathematical nicety Spinozareasoned out a complete system of ontology, in which theconclusions are so inseparably bound up with the postulatesthat in order to overthrow them it is necessary to begin by"The truth of a proposition is not given simply by showing that it is aJecessary consequence from some preceding proposition; that is only showing the logical operation to have been irreproachable; and an operation may beaccurately performed although its premises are inexact. "-Lewes, Problems of Life and Mind, vol. i. p. 381.-Of course Descartes, as a mathematician familiar with the process of reductio ad absurdum, would freely admit this.But he would claim that there are sundry premises which, as being framed à priori in accordance with the constitution of the thinking mind, are notamenable to the jurisdiction of experience; and that hence conclusions drawn fromthese premises need be submitted only to a logical test.I 2116 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Linvalidating the postulates. Could he have verified hispostulates, he might have given us the outlines of a systemof absolute truth, thus attaining a more wondrous eminencethan Galileo or Newton. Unfortunately his postulates arejust the kind of propositions of which it must be said thatthey can neither be established nor refuted: the data forverifying them are inaccessible, and must ever remain so.His system rests on the assumption that the noumenal causeis like the phenomenal effect as rendered in terms of consciousness, so that whatever is true of the one is ipso factotrue of the other. Herein lay Spinoza's error. Here is thefundamental distinction between the deductive method asemployed in mathematics, and as employed by Spinoza inmetaphysics. Mathematics starts from simple propositionsconcerning quantitative relations of number and extension,which are verified once for all by a direct appeal to experience it proceeds from the known to the unknown.Metaphysics, as treated by Spinoza, starts from complexpropositions concerning substance per se and causa efficiens,which have not been and cannot be verified. It venturesinto the unknown without having first secured a basis ofoperations in the known. So that, while Hegel was undoubtedly justified, from his own point of view, in declaringthat the philosopher must either be a Spinozist or nothing,our refuge from the dilemma is to be found in our denial ofthe validity of that subjective method by the aid of whichHegel and Spinoza reached their conclusions. The methodof mathematical deduction , as legitimately applied by Newtonto verifiable postulates, led to a discovery prolific in permanent and magnificent results; as illegitimately applied bySpinoza to unverifiable postulates, it led to an isolatedsystem of ontology, barren of results, accepted in its inexorable completeness by no one, -yet irrefutable, save by therefutation of all metaphysics.Spinoza's ontological conclusions, being at once obnoxiousCH. V.] THE TWO METHODS. 117and apparently inevitable, produced a crisis in philosophy,serving to raise doubts as to the validity of the subjectivemethod, and to call in question the truth of the postulatethat whatever is in the Idea is also in the Fact. It wasthought necessary to stop and reconsider the processes bywhich our initial conceptions in metaphysics are obtained;and thus for more than a century pure ontological speculation was subordinated to psychological inquiries. Thusarose the great English school, whose especial function, withregard to metaphysics, has been to demonstrate, on psychological grounds, the relativity of all knowledge. This movement, begun by Hobbes and continued by Locke andBerkeley, though productive of many brilliant and permanent scientific results, was suicidal so far as metaphysicsis concerned, for, as we saw in the preceding chapter, ithas ended in the Scepticism of Hume, and the Positivism ofComte and Mill. The researches of Hobbes on the lawsof association, the admirable though incomplete analysisof mental operations achieved by Locke, and Berkeley'sexplanation of the phenomena of vision, were genuineadditions to our knowledge. But, as has frequently beenpointed out, they were obtained only through the employment of the objective method. The precepts of Bacon, sothoroughly in harmony with the cautious and practicaltemper of the English mind, led these great thinkers toforsake the high road of d priori ratiocination for the surerthough more tortuous path of patient observation; andso long as they adhered to psychology, they were reallyscientific inquirers, as much as if they had been physiologistsor chemists. This departure from metaphysics was carriedstill farther by Hartley, who, working the deepest vein ofthe Lockian philosophy, prepared the way for James Mill tobring psychology still more thoroughly under the sway ofscientific methods. But the imperfect condition of biologyprevented the significance of this movement from being118 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Ldetected in the eighteenth century. The labours of Hartleywere almost entirely overshadowed by the superficial sensationalism of Condillac and the crude materialism of Helvétiusand Holbach. The distinctly inferior character of Frenchpsychological speculation since the death of Malebrancheappears strikingly both in these shallow systems, and in thespiritualistic reaction against them which the present century has seen conducted by Laromiguière and Victor Cousin;a philosophy made up of mere tawdry rhetoric, quite innocent of observation and induction, resting on passionateappeals to the testimony of "le cœur; " which finally, in ourown times, has (it would appear) harangued itself to death.But in England and Germany things took a different course.The scepticism of Hume, as the most conspicuous consequenceof Berkeley's profound analysis, produced a second crisis inphilosophy, and led Kant to re-examine the psychologicalproblem, in the hope of arriving at some positive result. Wehave already remarked upon the inconsistency in Kant's finalconclusions; demonstrating as he did, on the one hand, therelativity of knowledge, yet on the other hand maintainingthat in necessary truths we possess a kind of knowledge notultimately referable to the registration of experiences. Wehave now to note how Hegel has based upon this doctrineof à priori knowledge an explicit and uncompromisingassertion of the validity of the subjective method, whichby reason of its very outspokenness proclaims itself asthe reductio ad absurdum of metaphysics.Starting from the postulate that deductions from à prioripremises furnished by pure reason have a higher validity"Quiconque entre dans l'étude de l'esprit humain par la voie de la ré- flexion, marche droit au but. Quiconque ne suit d'autre méthode que la méthode expérimentale de Bacon et de Newton, ne court pas le risque, il estvrai, de tomber dans les hypothèses extravagantes, mais se condamne à des circuits immenses qui aboutissent à des résultats médiocres. "-Cousin,Philosophie Écossaise, p. 307. A fair sample of M. Cousin's appreciation of scientific method. The discovery of the law of gravitation, I suppose, was one of these "résultats médiocres "!CH. V.]THE TWO METHODS. 119than inductions from premises supplied by sensible experience, Hegel speedily arrives at an ingenious solutionof the antinomies which baffle the ordinary thinker whoseeks to frame hypotheses concerning objective reality. Thecustomary rules of ratiocination, based upon a collation ofthe results of sensible experience, are set aside with a highhand. If it be declared that we can and do cognize objectsapart from the limitations imposed by our intelligence. theapparent contradiction in terms is no obstacle to Hegel.There is a contradiction no doubt, but what of that? Truthhas been vulgarly supposed to consist in agreement. Not abit of it: it consists in contradiction. This is one of thefundamental postulates of the Hegelian logic. The Test ofTruth is not that " A is A," but that " A is not A." Everything which is, is that which it is not.¹ Non-existenceexists, because it is a thought; pure Being also, in theabsence of determinative conditions, is not distinguishablefrom Not-being; therefore Non-existence is the same asExistence, and contraries are identical. An idea is not amodification of the subject; an idea is the object. Incoming into existence, the Idea comes into non- existence;it negatives itself. " But the process does not stop there.The negation itself must be negatived. By this negation ofits negation, the Idea returns to its primitive force. But itis no longer the same. It has developed all that it contained. It has absorbed its contrary. Thus the negationof the negation, by suppressing the negation, at the sameIn a certain sense this statement is profoundly true. Nothing is itself without being to some extent something else. Or, in other words, it is im- possible sharply to demarcate an individual entity from the remainder ofexistence, and to cognize it in individual isolation and completeness. Forthe simplest act of cognition involves a lapse of time, during which the individual entity cognized has lost certain attributes and acquired certain others, and has thus become different from itself. This is the obverse of thecientific truth that nowhere is there such a thing as Rest, or the maintenance f a given status, -a truth which lies at the bottom of the Doctrine of Evolation. Hegel's fault, however, is that he does not ase this truth scientifically, but employs it as a formula to conjure with.120 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Ltime preserves it. " This side of the room is the other side;because, if you turn around, this is that, and that is this;and consequently everything is its own opposite. Everything is thus made easy. We may say, for instance, that matteris infinitely divisible, because it follows ipso facto that it isnot infinitely divisible, and thus the Gordian Knot is cut.In the eye of science, as in the eye of common- sense, allthis is supremely ridiculous, the very enthronement ofUnreason. Yet the significance of the whole is lost if wefail to remember that Hegel was not a fool or a lunatic, butwas unquestionably one of the clearest, strongest, and mostconsecutive reasoners that the world has ever seen. Muchhas been said of the unintelligibleness of Hegel, ¹ and manya witticism has been made at his expense. But the unintelligibleness of Hegel does not result from indistinctness ofthought or slovenliness of expression. On the contrary, itseems to me that his thoughts-or rather, perhaps, thesymbols of his thoughts-are very distinct, and that hisstyle of expression is remarkably simple, clear, and direct.When by chance he treats of sublunary topics, his style isoften as pithy and lucid as M. Taine's. And had the contents of his thinking consisted of propositions formed fromthe colligation of sensible experiences, instead of propositionsbuilt up of empty verbal symbols, he would no doubt havetaken rank among the greatest of the teachers of mankind.The world-wide difference between Hegel and Mr. Spencer, forexample, does not consist chiefly in the fact that the latter isa clearer, more patient, and more logical reasoner; it consistschiefly in the fact that the symbols with which Mr. Spencerdoes his thinking are translateable in terms of sensibleexperience, while the symbols employed by Hegel are not1 The story is current that on being asked to explain some difficult passage written years before, the great metaphysician gave it up in despair, saying:" When I wrote that passage, there were two who understood it, -God and myself. Now, alas, God alone understands it! " A myth, no doubt, but Brudely characteristic, like most myths.CH. V.] THE TWO METHODS. 121thus translateable. The difference is, in the main, a difference of method. Indeed, when a man of Hegel's vastability gives to the world, as the result of a whole life'sarduous toil, such a system as the logic of contradictoriesabove described, it is evident that there must be somethingincurably vicious in the method upon which he has proceeded. Yet that method is the subjective method in itsabsolute purity. Starting with the assumption that whatever is in the idea is in the fact, it makes but a short step tothe assumption that whatever is in the word is in the fact.It mistakes words for ideas, and ideas for facts. Hobbeshas somewhere said that " words are the counters of wisem*n, but the money of fools. " They are certainly the moneyof Hegelism. That philosophy is built up of propositionswhich are verbally faultless, but which correspond to noreality, which are in the likeness of nothing existing or, inthe true sense of the word, conceivable, in either the heavensabove, or the earth beneath, or the waters under the earth.The contempt of Hegel for those deluded creatures, like Newton, who have spent their time in investigating facts, is both amusing and instructive. Far be it from Hegel's logic that it should stoop to look at facts. It makes a statement which is verbally perfect, and if the facts do not confirm it, so much the worse for the facts. Goethe, in one of his conversations with Eckermann, tells a pithy story about the founding of St. Petersburg. The Czar wished it to be situatedon the low ground at the mouth of the Neva, so that itmight resemble the Amsterdam where he had lived in hisyouth. An old sailor remonstrated , telling him that a townin that locality would be troubled by the frequent overflowing of the river; and pointed to an ancient tree uponwhich were marked the various heights to which the waterhad in past times ascended. But Peter refused to believethe testimony; the tree was cut down, that its unwelcomeevidence might be suppressed, and the work of building192 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. 1went on. This was what Hegelism would be if carried outpractically and transferred from the world of supra- sensiblesto the world of phenomena. When a fact is unwelcome,just take the principle of contradiction, and cut it down.Hegel will not hear of verification; he looks with unutterable scorn upon such men as Bacon for insisting upon thenecessity of it. And we need not therefore be surprisedwhen we find him proclaiming the philosophic superiorityof the Ptolemaic astronomy over the Copernican, for thesubjective reason that it consorts better with the dignity ofman that he should occupy the central point of the universe!This opens to us a new point of view. Hegel is virtually a pre- Copernican. For him modern science andits methods are practically non- existent. His philosophywas born too late. It belongs to the twelfth centuryrather than to the nineteenth. He is a schoolman rearedout of season. Here, I believe, we have the key to Hegel'sposition.The realistic tendency-the disposition to mistake wordsfor things-is a vice inherent in all ordinary thinking. It isa vice from which every thinker who would arrive at truthmust begin by freeing himself. In all ages, men have foughtover words, without waiting to know what the words reallysignified. Even great thinkers do not always escape thetemptation. Mr. Mill, for example, speaks of Cæsar's " overthrowing a free government," as if Cæsar had been a contemporary of Pitt. He reasons solely on the strength of theword " free," forgetting that the " free government " overthrown by Cæsar was in reality a detestable mixture ofdespotism and anarchy. Words indeed are the money of allof us, until we learn, by severe discipline, to regard themmerely as counters. But it was in the Middle Ages thatrealism was most uncurbed. In those days men maintained,with sober faces, that because we talk about Man in theabstract, there is an actually existing thing called Man,CHI. THE TWO METHODS.123distinct alike from all individual men and from all mentaken collectively. This and that man exist; all men exist;and Man exists likewise, such was one of the fundamentaltheorems of the realistic philosophy.' Scholasticism was along and hard-fought dialectic battle, in the course of whichthis realism, as an avowed system, was at last utterly routed.And the great result of scholasticism was the purification ofLatin philosophic terminology from its realistic implications.By that long contest, which on a superficial view seems sobarren of result, the English as well as the French, and alllanguages which derive their philosophic nomenclature fromthe Latin, have been incalculably benefited. There was nolikelihood of a Hegel in any language which had passedthrough the scholastic furnace. But German had never passedthrough such an ordeal. Its philosophic terms had neverbeen reduced to their real value. As Mr. Lewes veryhappily observes, it did not recognize the old ignis fatuus inits new Irrlicht. Nowhere but in Germany would a Hegelhave been possible in the nineteenth century. And that thepeculiarities of the German language are to a great extent responsible for his aberrations, has been acknowledged by laterGerman critics. The testimony of Büchner, which on mostvital points of philosophy I should be very slow to cite, isquite admissible here: -" The playing with high- sounding butthoroughly empty words has been the fatal vice of Germanphilosophy. . . . We have often with justice been advisedto translate our philosophic treatises into a foreign tongue,in order to rid them of their unintelligible verbiage. Butassuredly few of them could bear the test." A similar com1 "In the great medieval doctrine of transubstantiation, the schoolman would have been the first to admit that no chemical analysis would detect any change in the consecrated elements. But he asserted that the individuality of the bread ( its breadness) was exchanged for the individuality of Christ (his humano-divinity). " - Pearson, Early and Middle Ages of England, vol. i. p. 613. An excellent illustration of the realistic method.t was a noumenal, not a phenomenal change: the latter would have been "transaccidentation. "124 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [FT. Lplaint, with especial reference to Hegel, has been made bySchopenhauer.¹Again, let us not fail to observe that in characterizingHegel's logic of contradictories as repugnant to commonsense, we urge an objection which, however valid it mayseem to us, would to one in Hegel's position have no weightwhatever. For Hegel's fundamental postulate is that deductions from d priori premises furnished by pure reason havean incomparably higher validity than inductions from premises supplied by sensible experiences; and consequently,while we are seeking to found philosophy in common- sense—or in science, which is simply common- sense rectified,extended, and methodized, -Hegel, on the other hand, entertains no such purpose. Philosophy, with him, lies quite outof the range of common-sense, which is merely the organization of sensible experiences, and if there be conflictbetween the deliverances of the two, it is common- sensethat must go to the wall. With this perfectly logical,though practically absurd, conclusion, we may fitly compareSchelling's declaration that philosophic truth is to beattained only through the exercise of a faculty superior toreason; which faculty Schelling called " Intellectual Intuition." This " was not supposed to be a faculty common toall men; on the contrary, it was held as the endowmentonly of a few of the privileged: it was the faculty for philosophizing. Schelling expresses his disdain for those whotalk about not comprehending the highest truths of philoзophy. ' Really,' he exclaims, ' one sees not whereforePhilosophy should pay any attention whatever to Incapacity.it is better rather that we should isolate Philosophy fromall the ordinary routes, and keep it so separated from66 1 Schopenhauer, indeed, quite loses his patience over Hegel's verbal leger.demain, and calls him a geistlosen, unwissenden, Unsinn schmierenden, dieKöpfe durch beispiellos hohlen Wortkram von Grund aus und auf immer desorganisirenden Philosophaster." (! ) I quote from memory, and cannot now recover the passage where this outbreak occurs.0.4%. V.) THE TWO METHODS. 125ordinary knowledge that none of these routes should lead toit. The highest truths of science ( 1) cannot be proved, theymust be apprehended; for those who cannot apprehend themthere is nothing but pity; argument is useless . " Here inthe explicit rejection of the fundamental conception ofCosmic Philosophy as a further organization of science,which is itself a further organization of common knowledge,we see at the same time the most explicit adoption of thesubjective method. And it is worthy of note that, in thisemphatic declaration, modern metaphysics ends in preciselythe same reductio ad absurdum in which ancient metaphysicsmet its doom. The incompetence of ordinary reason toconstruct a science of ontology having been fully demonstrated, the task is transferred, by Schelling as by Proklos,to a divine light," which is supposed to irradiate the soulsof a few privileged teachers. Obviously this is equivalentto the confession that, as a process of rational investigation,the subjective method has been definitely tried in the balanceand found wanting. For to recur to a " divine light," or toseek refuge in the identity of contradictories, is only to showthe more convincingly that human thought cannot, save bya mere jugglery of words, even appear to escape from theconditions under which alone is valid thinking possible.We have now sufficiently illustrated, by concrete examples,the difference between the subjective and objective methods,which is the practical difference between metaphysics andscience. We are accordingly in a position to consider, somewhat more closely than we have hitherto done, the essentialpoint of difference between the scientific mode of philosophizing which we accept and the metaphysical mode ofphilosophizing which we reject. It is well that, in our polemicagainst metaphysics, there should be no room left for ambiguity or misconception. It has already been sufficientlyexplained that in doing away with metaphysics we do not setLewes, History of Philosophy, 3rd edit. vol. ii. p. 522.1126 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Laside philosophy, but place it on a firmer foundation thanbefore. And while it is thus apparent that we have notidentified metaphysics with philosophy, it is also evident thatwe have by no means fallen into the vulgar error of identifying it with psychology, or the inquiry into the phenomenaof consciousness, which is as much a science as chemistry orphysiology. How, then, shall we precisely define the metaphysics against which we have, during these five chaptersand from various points of attack, been waging war?-To arrive at the true meaning of " Metaphysics," we canhardly do better than go back to the historical origin of theword. Aristotle wrote a treatise on Physics, and also anelaborate dissertation upon sundry transcendental topics, whichbeing placed immediately after the other in his collectedworks, received the title of rà µetà тà þvσiká, or “ Thingswhich-come-after-the- Physics. " It was in this way that theterm came into use; and it needs but little playing withthe elastic significance of the preposition, to arrive at athoroughly just idea of the meaning of the expression. Metaphysics, thus considered, means a set of inquiries which liebeyond the bounds of Physics. Physics, -in the widest senseof the word, dealing solely with phenomena in their relations ofcoexistence and succession, metaphysics deals withsomething lying beyond the phenomena Aphysical explanation is content with analyzing phenomena as it finds them; ametaphysical explanation is not content until it has addedsomething not given in the phenomena. Metaphysics, therefore, is not confined to psychology, but may deal with anysubject, and has in fact obtruded its explanations upon mostsubjects. When mercury was seen to rise in a tube, in apparent contradiction to the general phenomena of gravity, metaphysics said that it was because " Nature abhorred a vacuum. 'Physics, without going beyond the facts given in the case,explained it by a reference to the pressure of the atmosphereupon the mercury without the tube. So the phenomena of"CH. V.] THE TWO METHODS. 127causation were metaphysically explained by the suppositionof a specific hidden power in the cause, which constrainsthe effect to follow. Hume denied the existence of any suchspecific hidden power, and his denial was also metaphysical,because neither the presence nor the absence of such aspecific power is a necessary inference from the phenomena.If we would keep clear of metaphysics, we must in such acase neither affirm nor deny concerning a subject which liesutterly beyond our reach. Physics knows nothing of causation except that it is the invariable and unconditional sequenceof one event upon another: whether the one event, in ametaphysical sense, constrains the other to follow it or notwe cannot tell. Physics knows nothing of such constraint-neither that it exists, nor that it does not exist.For the moment I have, somewhat too freely, used theword " physics " as synonymous with " science "; for I haveaimed at bringing out the fundamental distinction betweenmetaphysics and science, -which is this:-A scientific explanation is a hypothesis which admits ofverification,—it can beeither proved or disproved; while a metaphysical explanation isa hypothesis which docs not admit ofverification,—it can neitherbe proved nor disproved. Newton's hypothesis of gravitation,to account for the planetary motions, was strictly scientific;and so was Descartes hypothesis of vortices, to account forthe same phenomena. The former admitted of proof, andthe latter admitted of disproof. But Stahl's hypothesis of aVital Principle, to account for the phenomena of life, wasstrictly metaphysical. Whether it is true or not, we cannever know. Push our researches as far as we may, we canknow life only as the assemblage of certain phenomena,displaying the activity of certain forces. Whether in additionto this there is a Vital Principle or not, no amount of researchcan ever tell us. Science has simply nothing to do with it.Thus we see that the fundamental difference betweenmetaphysics and science is the difference between the128 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Lsubjective and the objective methods. That the differencein method is more fundamental than the difference in thecharacter of the objects which are studied, is shown by thefact that " a theory may be transferred from metaphysics toscience, or from science to metaphysics, simply by the additionor the withdrawal of its verifiable element." Thus, as Mr.Lewes observes, " the law of universal attraction becomespure metaphysics if we withdraw from it the verifiablespecification of its mode of operation. Withdraw the formula,' inversely as the square of the distance and directly as themass,' and Attraction is left standing —a mere ' occult quality.'Indeed the Cartesians reproached it with being such an occultquality, and stigmatized it as a revival of Aristotelianism .On the other hand, add this verifiable formula to the ' inherentvirtue ' of the old metaphysicists, and the result is a strictlyscientific proposition." 1Here also is revealed the inherent weakness of metaphysics: it is incapable of making discoveries. For verification is absolutely essential to discovery. No theoremcan be accepted as a discovery until it has been verified ,and the theorems of metaphysics do not admit of verification.Hence the utter barrenness of the metaphysical method.From Thales downwards-according to the current reproach-philosophers have been disputing over the first principlesof their subject, and are now no nearer to a solution thanwhen they began to dispute. It is not, however, as is sometimes superficially supposed, because metaphysicians disagree,that their method must be rejected by any philosophy whichwould found itself upon science; but it is because theirdisagreement can never end in agreement, - can never leadto knowledge. Since there will always be room for differenceof opinion on many subjects, until the human mind shallhave explained and classified all the phenomena of nature,it cannot be demanded of any system of philosophy that it1 Lewes, Aristotle, p. 84.CH. V. ] THE TWO METHODS. 129shall admit only such conclusions as are not open to controversy. Such a requirement would virtually prohibitphilosophy altogether. The difference between a scientificand a metaphysical theorem is not that the former is not opento controversy, but that it admits of verification; it can,either now or at some future time, be proved to be eithertrue or false. All such theorems may be admitted by ascientific philosophy. Until they have been verified, wemay take account of them provisionally, as legitimate hypotheses after they have been put to a crucial test, we mayeither incorporate them with our philosophy or definitelyabandon them. Our philosophy, therefore, like all the scienceswhence it obtains the general truths which it seeks to organizeinto a body of universal truth, may admit any number ofsubjects of dispute; but it can admit no question as a fitsubject of dispute, which, from the nature of the case, cannever be settled. It is perfectly in keeping, for example, fortwo upholders of the Doctrine of Evolution, as well as fortwo scientific specialists committed to no general doctrine,to hold opposite views concerning the hypothesis of spontaneous generation. Since this is strictly a scientific hypothesis,dealing solely with phenomena, and invoking no unknowableagencies; and since there is no reason, in the nature ofthings, why it should not sooner or later be established oroverthrown by some crucial experiment; there is nothinganomalous in the fact of two such thoroughly scientificevolutionists as Prof. Huxley and Dr. Bastian holdingopposite opinions as to its merits. But it would not bein keeping for two scientific philosophers to wrangle overLeibnitz's doctrine of Pre-established Harmony, because thatis a hypothesis which can never be proved or disproved.The data necessary for its verification do not exist, andtherefore no system of philosophy, which would keep clearof metaphysics, can recognize it as a legitimate subject forinvestigation. Again, in the eighteenth century there wereVOL. I. K130 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Ltwo rival theories of light. According to the theory ofNewton, a ray of light is a linear series of material corpuscles, darted from the luminous object. According to thetheory of Huyghens, a ray of light is a system of molecularundulations which move outward in ever-increasing concentric shells whose normals are radial, and which are setin motion by undulations among the molecules of the luminous object. At the beginning of the present century thecorpuscular theory was submitted to a set of crucial investigations which overthrew it; and more recently the undulatorytheory has been submitted to a course of crucial investigationwhich has finally established it. Both these theories werescientific in conception, and previous to the researches ofYoung and Fresnel a scientific philosopher might have consistently espoused either. Such are the controversies ofscience, which sooner or later have always led, and willalways lead, to agreement and to knowledge. Far differentis it with the disputes of metaphysics, which—conductedupon the subjective method, and dealing with unverifiablehypotheses have never led, and can never lead, to anythingbut an endless renewal of dispute, in sæcula sæculorum.In this condemnation of the subjective method, the CosmicPhilosophy here expounded is entirely in harmony with thePositive Philosophy, as set forth in Comte's first great work,and as held by M. Littré and Mr. Mill. Indeed there isprobably nothing in the present chapter which might not becited by the Positivist in confirmation of his opinions as tothe limits of philosophical inquiry. The Positive Philosophyis based upon the assertion of the relativity of all knowledge;and, however fatally inadequate may have been its psychological interpretation of that doctrine, there is no ground foraccusing it as represented by Mr. Mill and M. Littré-ofinconsistency in its adherence to the scientific method forwhich the doctrine of relativity supplies the justificationSince Bacon's time there have been few thinkers who haveCH. V.] THE TWO METHODS. 131insisted more strenuously than Comte upon the necessity ofdistinguishing between legitimate and illegitimate hypotheses,or who have more clearly prescribed the conditions underwhich alone can any given hypothesis be regarded as legitimate. Unfortunately, by a strange and ironical fate, thewriter who contributed so much toward the establishment ofsound methods of philosophizing, lived to become a proficientin the subjective method, a pitiless scorner of crucial experiments, and a weaver of vagaries which might well be matchedwith those above cited from Plato and Hegel. The historicalimportance of this phenomenon is great enough to justify usin treating it at some length.Though in Comte's earlier works a somewhat obtuse senseof the requirements of verification is now and then to benoticed; and though there is a tendency, which visibly increases toward the end of the " Philosophie Positive," to substitute intensely dogmatic ex cathedrâ dicta in the place ofarguments; yet the necessity for strict obedience to theobjective method is nowhere explicitly denied. It is insisted, with entire justice, that every hypothesis which doesnot admit of verification should be remorselessly discardedfrom philosophy; and that even a verifiable hypothesisshould never be incorporated as a part of philosophy orscience until it has been actually verified. Far different isthe attitude taken by Comte in his later works, when he isattempting to reconstruct society. In the " Politique Positive " he begins by endeavouring to reinstate the subjectivemethod; deluding himself, by a play upon words, into thebelief that that method can be so reformed as to becomeavailable in the search for positive truths. " The subjectivemethod," he tells us, " possesses striking advantages whichcan alone compensate for the inconveniences of the objectivemethod." This unhappy sentence is of itself enough to showhow far the writer had strayed from positive grounds. Herewe see the necessity for constant verification characterizedK 2138 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Lias an " inconvenience," and the liberty to string together premises and conclusions without ever stopping to test theirconformity to facts is called a " striking advantage." Nothingcould be more thoroughly metaphysical in temper. The " inconvenience " of the objective method is the inconvenienceof being often obliged to stop and confess our ignorance ofmany things we should like to know, our lack of many datawe should be glad to possess. The " striking advantage " ofthe subjective method is no other than the advantage enjoyed by the metaphysician of being permitted to persuadehimself that he has arrived at complete knowledge becausehe has never stopped to confront the order of his conceptionswith the order of phenomena. But let us continue withComte: " Our logical system can be rendered complete anddurable only by the intimate union of the two methods. History does not authorize us to regard them as radically irreconcilable, provided that both are systematically regeneratedin accordance with their common function, intellectual andsocial. To yield to theology the exclusive privilege of usingthe subjective method is as unnecessary as to see in theologythe only legitimate basis of religious feeling. If sociologymay possess the latter, it may also possess the former, as thetwo are intimately connected. To this end it is enough thatthe subjective method, renouncing the vain search into effiient and final causes, should henceforth, like the objectivemethod, be employed solely in the discovery of natural laws,whereby our social condition may be ameliorated. " 1I do not know where one could find a passage, in theliterature of modern philosophy, more lamentably confusedin its ideas than this. The subjective method says thatverification is not necessary; the objective method saysthat verification is necessary; and yet we are told that thetwo are not " radically irreconcilable! " It is proposed to' regenerate " the subjective method: yet there is no way of1 Politique Positive, tom. i. p. 455.6SFL. V.] THE TWO METHODS. 133regenerating it save by forcing it to verify its premises andconclusions; and when this is done, it ceases to be the subjective and becomes the objective method. But Comte thinksthis is not necessary; the subjective method may be usedprovided it be employed only upon scientific questions, onlyin ascertaining the laws of phenomena. That is to say, aslong as you confine yourself to scientific questions, and leavetheology and metaphysics alone, you may imagine someplausible hypothesis and then reason away until you haveworked out a whole theory of natural phenomena, neverstopping to observe or experiment, but dogmatically proclaiming your conclusions as infallible because they seem toflow logically from the premises! Can it be that we arehere listening to the man who spent one half of his life ininvestigating the history of science, -the man whose laboursdid so much toward renovating inductive logic? The wholehistory of science proclaims the utter absurdity of the position taken by Comte. The subjective method has been employed, from the earliest times, upon purely scientific questions which took no note of causes, efficient or final; and itseternal impotence is illustrated upon every page of the annalsof scientific error. In molar physics, it led to the doctrinethat all motion is naturally circular; in astronomy it persuaded men that the sun and planets move in circular orbitsabout the central earth; in chemistry it instigated manygenerations of experimenters to the fruitless effort to convertlead or iron into gold; in physiology it suggested the notionthat the arteries are air-vessels, and caused that notionto be held for centuries; in pathology it sanctioned the falacy that fever is an unnatural exaltation of the powers ofthe organism, a fallacy which has sacrificed many a valuablelife to the lancet; in political economy it favoured the delusion, born of selfish instincts, that the commercial interestsof each community are antagonistic to those of the communities with which it trades. -a delusion which is responsible134 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. L.for much foolish warfare, and which underlies the wholeiniquitous system of so- called " protective " tariffs by which.So many countries are even yet impoverished. Verily thisillegitimate deduction, which verifies neither premise norconclusion, but relies wholly on subjective coherence, hasbeen tried quite long enough by the test which Comterecommends for it. Just so far as men have verified theirhypotheses, either by direct observation, or by deductionbased on observation, have they extended the boundaries ofknowledge. Just so far as they have neglected such verification, have they gone astray amid the countless vagaries whichhave ever loved to encumber the path of scientific inquiry.To admit that we do not know what we have not verifiedrequires rare self- denial, no doubt; a self- denial to whichnothing, save the patient habit of scientific inquiry, can fullyaccustom us. This is the "inconvenience " of which Comtespeaks, as attaching to the objective method. But mankindare fast reaching philosophic maturity; and we are alreadygetting too thoroughly used to the requirements of scienceto be much longer content with the childish device of playing that whatever is in our ideas is in the facts. Whatevermay be our failings in practice, we have become nearlyunanimous in the declaration that before any hypothesis canbe accepted it must be verified.Strange that in the latter half of the nineteenth centurythese criticisms should still need to be made! Stranger stillthat they should be called forth by the writings of the greatsuccessor of Bacon and organizer of positive philosophy!Strangest of all that able men should still be found soimbued with the spirit of discipleship as to resort to allmanner of logical subterfuges in order to destroy their force!Yet to show that I have by no means exaggerated theperversity of Comte's position, let me cite a page from MrMill. "Among all the aberrations of scientific men, Comtethinks none greater than the pedantic anxiety the showCH. V.] THE TWO METHODS. 135for complete proof, and perfect rationalization of scientificprocesses. It ought to be enough that the doctrines afford anexplanation of phenomena, consistent with itself and withknown facts, and that the processes are justified by theirfruits. This over-anxiety for proof, he complains, is breakingdown by vain scruples the knowledge which seemed tohave been obtained; witness the present state of chemistry[in 1854]. The demand of proof for what has been acceptedby Humanity . . . . is a revolt against the traditions of thehuman race. So early had the new High Priest adopted thefeelings and taken up the inheritance of the old." Mr. Millgoes on to remark upon the new sense in which he began toemploy his famous aphorism that " the empire of the deadover the living continually increases. " " As is not uncommon with him, he introduces the dictum in one sense anduses it in another. What he at first means by it is, that ascivilization advances, the sum of our possessions, physicaland intellectual, is due in a decreasing proportion to ourselves,and in an increasing one to our progenitors. The use hemakes of it is, that we should submit ourselves more andmore implicitly to the authority of previous generations,and suffer ourselves less and less to doubt their judgment,or test by our own reason the grounds of their opinions.The unwillingness of the human intellect and conscience,in their present state of anarchy,' to sign their own abdication, he calls the insurrection of the living against theLead.' To this complexion has positive philosophy comeat last!"1Torealize the completeness of the break between Comte'searlier and later speculations, we have only to remember thatthe deepest of all the distinctions which he sought toestablish between positive philosophy on the one hand andmetaphysics and theology on the other, is the ineffaceabledistinction of method: the one insists upon objective¹ Mill, Auguste Comte and Positivism, p. 162.136 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. 1.verification, while the others are content with subjectivecongruity. Yet here we see Comte explicitly and withvehement dogmatism repudiating observation and experiment,and maintaining, as unreservedly as Hegel, that so long asour conceptions are systematic and mutually harmonious, itmakes no difference whether they are verified or not!It would be an interesting study to trace in detail thecirc*mstances concerned in bringing about this singularaberration of a great scientific intellect. For while theproclamation of the subjective method, and its more or lessconsistent employment, by Descartes and Hegel, was logicallybased upon their erroneous psychological theories concerningthe sources of knowledge; on the other hand, this metamorphosis in the opinions of Comte had no logical justificationwhatever, but was determined by circ*mstances of a purelypersonal character. It was due partly to what I may callthe impatience of constructiveness, the imperious mentaldemand for the erection of a system at whatever cost,-andpartly upon the exaggerated over-estimate of self which is asymptom of incipient monomania.--In his youth Comte was an insatiable reader, and beforehe began the work of constructing the Positive Philosophyhe had amassed vast stores of learning in almost everydepartment of knowledge. There is no good reason fordoubting that in 1830, when the publication of his greatwork began, he was, with a few serious exceptions, fullyabreast of the best science of the times. But in the courseof the twelve years during which the composition of thiswork went on, he found it desirable to alter his habits ofstudy. Finding that constant attention to the progress ofevents interrupted the consecutive development of histhoughts, he began to abstain from all reading whatever, savein a few of his favourite poets. Still later in life he erectedthis practice into a general principle of action, and as amatter of conscience refused to take any note of the pro-CH. V.] THE TWO METHODS. 137ceedings going on about him in the intellectual world. Heutterly neglected not only newspapers, but also contemporaryworks on science, and even scientific periodicals, and devotedhimself almost exclusively to music and to æsthetic ordevotional literature, such as Homer, Dante, Thomas à Kempis,St. Augustine and Bossuet, Molière, Fielding and Lesage.This holding aloof from the course of contemporary speculation, he called " cerebral hygiene." It should rather beregarded as a source of mental one- sidedness than as a sourceof mental health. I have no intention of depreciating thevast amount of invaluable food for thought which is to beobtained from the study of such books as those just named.Without studying Homer and Dante and Molière and therest, one can get but a very meagre notion of human historyas concretely revealed in the thoughts of past generations.Nor can it be denied that there was much that was trulysensible in Comte's plan of leaving off study when about towrite. The successful expositor of a system of thought isnot the man who is always cramming, and who perhaps keepsbut a few weeks in advance of the particular theme whichhe is expounding. It is the man who by long years of patientthinking has completely mastered the system, and has it sothoroughly elaborated in his mind that he can sit down andwrite it out of the fulness of his knowledge, without needingto look at books. And in such cases it is no doubt desirableto shut oneself up and allow nothing to distract the minduntil the work is accomplished. So far, Comte was doubtlesswise in doing as he did. But beyond this point, there is nowisdom in keeping aloof from contemporary matters. Assoon as writing is done, reading should begin again; everyconclusion should be carefully verified, and every statement´revised in the light of the newest science. Otherwise roomis left for the subjective method to enter, and opportunity isgiven the mind to tickle itself with the belief that it hasreached finality on some points. There is no safety for the138 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Lthinker who isolates himself, year after year, from the workwhich his contemporaries are doing. Such a proceeding, asComte's experience is enough to show, is fraught with gravedangers, both intellectual and moral. The intellectual dangeris that the thinker will be left hopelessly in the rear of thescientific movement of the age; will lose, from lack of therequisite stimulus supplied by open criticism and argument,the habit of bringing all his conclusions to the test of verification; and will thus gradually fall into the habit of reasoningupon his plausible hypotheses as if they were established.The moral danger is that which menaces all isolation, socialor intellectual, -the danger of excessive egoism, of overconfidence in one's own conclusions, and undue respect forone's own achievements. It is well enough for a writerto be dogmatic, provided his dogmatism is sustained byvigorous argument. But the writer is past all hope whohabitually thinks to make loud assertion do the duty ofargument; and this is a habit into which every one ismore or less liable to fall who is not constantly comingin contact with other thinkers, and forced continually todefend his conclusions by the objective appeal to universally admitted principles.I believe these considerations will go far toward accountingfor the unfortunate position taken by Comte toward the closeof his life. Always of a warm and enthusiastic temperament, self-confident to an inordinate degree, and vain withmore than a Frenchman's vanity, during his long period ofisolation these traits and tendencies were undulystrengthened.The consciousness-to a certain extent well founded-of thegrandeur of the task which he had accomplished, grew uponhim apace; and not taking note of the serious defects andomissions which advancing science was constantly disclosingin that work, he became more and more settled in the conviction that it was final, so far as it had gone. Measuringall his newly-framed hypotheses solely by their congruityCH. V.]THE TWO METHODS. 139with the general system of his conceptions, he gradually lostthe scientific habit. He ceased to take into account the factthat what seemed a necessary inference to him would notnecessarily seem so to minds differently moulded, unlesssustained by the requisite proofs Thus he emerged from thescientific into a pontifical state of mind, in which, just aswith Plato in his old age, it was enough that an opinionseemed true to him for him straightway to proclaim it asbinding on all men.¹ Moreover it is not improbable that histoo exclusive intercourse with the devotional writers of theMiddle Ages had much influence in generating that mysticaltone which characterizes all his later writings. The " Imitation of Christ " is a noble work, which has been a comfort tomany generations; but it is hardly a suitable book withwhich to nourish one's habits of scientific thought. By longcontemplation of the many admirable features of mediævalcivilization-features to which no previous writer had donesuch unstinted justice-Comte came at last to forget hisrelative point of view, and in his horror of revolutionaryanarchy he began to imagine that certain points of medi1 In its initial scientific attitude and in its final grotesque vagaries, thecareer of Plato's mind may be instructively compared with that of Comte's.In his earlier dialogues Plato professes to be, like Sokrates, a mere investi- gator of the methods by which trustworthy knowledge is obtained; just as Comte, in his first great work, is simply a co-ordinator of scientific methods and doctrines. In the Parmenides and Theaitetos, indeed, we may find, as strikingly presented as in any modern treatise, the antinomies or alternative impossibilities which, like the lions before Palace Beautiful, confront the pil grim on either hand whenever he seeks to cross the barrier which divides the realm of science from that of metaphysics. But at a later period we find Plato, like Comte, renouncing the scientific attitude, and setting himself up As the founder of an ideal Community, in which the pervading tendencies which have shaped actual societies were to be ignored or overridden, and in which existence was to be made intolerable to all persons not built after the Platonic pattern. And finally we have seen Plato, in the Timaios, working out a system of the universe in accordance with his own subjective concep- tions, and making a very sorry piece of work of it when compared with con- temporary science as displayed in the writings of Hippokrates and Aristotle;just as Comte, in his latest years, began to write a " Subjective Synthesis " in which scientific truths are fearfully and wonderfully travestied. Historic parallelisms are often very misleading; but the parallel here indicated is one which I believe the most sedulous examination will justify.140 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. (FT. Levalism might be again revived and engrafted upon ourmodern life. Thus by degrees he framed the conception ofa sort of Neo- Catholicism, with power as unlimited andceremonies as complicated as the old one, but with thescience of 1830 substituted for evangelical theology, andwith Comte installed as sovereign Pontiff. As a naturalresult of this new position, his self- confidence grew until itbecame even too great to be ludicrous. Literary historyaffords us no other example approaching to it, unless, as Mr.Mill suggests, in the case here and there of some " entirelyself-taught thinker who has no high standard with which tocompare himself." He habitually alludes to himself as thepeer of Aristotle and St. Paul combined; or as the onlyreally great philosopher, save Descartes and Leibnitz, who hasbeen seen in modern times.When in a future chapter we come to examine the systemof polity which awakened in Comte such transcendent selfcommendation, we shall find, as might be expected from thesubjective method pursued, but little that is of value toreward our search; although there are detached speculationsof great interest, serving to remind us that we are dealingwith a mighty though fallen thinker, and not with an undisciplined pretender. For the purpose of the presentchapter it will be enough to note some of his latest philosophicvagaries, in which, pushing the subjective method to thelimits of self- refuting absurdity, he maintained that allscience should be remodelled in conformity to the requirements of the imagination. Missing links in the geologicalseries of plants and animals should be supplied by fictitious"constructions of the reason," so that our craving forsymmetry may be appeased. Above all, science must be asfar as possible deprived of its " dryness," and vivified by"sentiment." To this end it is well to accustom ourselvesto the belief that all nature is alive, and that inorganicbodies, for instance, exert volition and feel what is done toSK. V.]THE TWO METHODS. 141them! Fetishism is, in express terms, restored, and we areinvited to adore the Earth as the Grand Fétiche. This greatfetish is supposed to have planned a shrewd system of shocksor explosions, by which to render its orbit less eccentric andthe inclination of its axis better fitted for the requirementsof the Grand Être, the Human Race. But even this is notenough to satisfy the demands of " le cœur." We mustadore whatever is useful to Humanity, and therefore musterect Space into a deity, and endow it with feeling, thoughnot with intelligence. Not only physics but mathematicsalso must be made religious. And thus we reach the ComtistTrinity,-Humanity, the Grand Being; Earth, the GrandFetish; and Space, the Grand Medium!!! Decimal numeration is to be abandoned in favour of a septimal system;because seven is a sacred number, and moreover a primenumber, incapable of division, and therefore well adapted toimpress us with a due sense of the weakness of the humanmind and the limitations of thought! This is the wonderfulphilosophy which is thought worthy to take the place of thevain inquiries which scientific men still obstinately persistin making, into the motions of the stars, the undulationsof atoms, and the development of organic life upon theglobe!Thus we might go on citing page after page of the mostextravagant vagaries ever conceived outside of Bedlam; or,remembering the many valuable services for which mankindmust ever be grateful to Comte, we might less harshly, andnot less truly, call them the most mournful exhibitionfurnished by the annals of philosophy, of a great mindutterly shattered and ruined. Mr. Lewes rejects somewhatvehemently the suggestion of M. Littré, that these wild fanciesare evidence of actual insanity. For my own part, I do notsee what there is unsound or uncharitable in M. Littré'ssuggestion. The only healthful activity of the mind is anHistory of Philosophy, 3rd edit. vol. ii. p. 583.148 [PT. L. COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.objective activity, in which there is as little brooding overself as possible. The less we think of ourselves, and themore we think of our work, the better. Dwelling on subjectivefancies rarely fails to throw the mind out of balance; it is atthe bottom of all religious melancholia and suicidal monomania, as well as of many other forms of cerebral disease. Fora dozen or fifteen years, Comte's life was such as to make aman insane, if anything could; and we should not forget,whatever may be the physiological significance of the fact,that in his early manhood he had experienced a violent attackof acute mania. His astounding self- conceit was more akinto that which may be seen in lunatic asylums than toanything which is known to have been manifested by personsin a state of health. I am strongly inclined to believe thatthe harmonious activity of his brain never fully recoveredfrom the shock given it by that first attack. Very likelythat attack is partly responsible for the self-brooding tendencywhich led him to abandon the world, and lead a secluded lifeamong his own unbridled fancies. And it is not improbablethat this long- continued self- communion carried him on theroad to chronic subacute monomania, until, when he wrotethe " Synthèse Subjective, " he had just overstepped the illdefined limit which divides precarious cerebral health frompronounced cerebral disease. Nevertheless this hypothesis,though it seems most plausible, is perhaps not absolutelyrequired by the facts. In this chapter we have seen how anexclusive reliance on the subjective method has bred inothers, besides Comte, the most shocking extravagances. Itmay be, after all, that Comte's vagaries are not so very muchwilder than those of Hegel and Plato; since Plato's absurditiesare less in conflict with the scientific knowledge of the timesin which they were conceived , and Hegel's are veiled by thedense obscurity of a pompous metaphysical terminology.When Hegel tells us that " Seyn ist Seyn. und nicht Anders:Anders ist Anders, und nicht Seyn " (Being is Being, and notCH. V.] THE TWO METHODS. 143Otherwise: Otherwise is Otherwise, and not Being) , we areoverawed perhaps, but not immediately disgusted. There isan air of excessive profundity about the oracular dictum, andfor a moment we think there may perhaps be something init, which does not appear on the surface, some occult veritywhich, as Hegelians tell us, fifty years more of enlighten.ment may enable us to realize. But Comte's thoughts arepresented, not in the muddiest technical German, but in theclearest idiomatic French: when he makes the earth a fetish,and talks about a dance of the planets, the idea stands outin all its naked absurdity. In spite of all this, however, Iam inclined to believe that Comte sounded a deeper depthof extravagance than either Plato or Hegel. Insanity is,after all, only the excessive lack of correspondence betweenthe order of conceptions and the order of phenomena. Thatis what we mean when we characterize it as delusion orhallucination. And when we avcwedly employ a methodwhich never deigns to adapt the internal order to theexternal order, there is no foreseeing the depth of the ditchin which we may be landed. The difference between thedelusion which we regard as compatible with sanity, andthat which we commiserate as insane, is mainly a differenceof degree. And whether we are to call Comte crazy or not,is to a great extent a question of terminology. Certain itis, that if Adelung had lived to witness Comte's latestspeculations, he might have found in them the materials fora more wonderful chapter than any of those now containedin his voluminous " History of Human Error."In these interesting vagaries we may find renewed evidenceof the close kinship between the " dreams " of the ontologist,the fancies of the myth-maker, and the hallucinations of theinsane, in so far as concerns the method employed. Nevertheless it would be highly unjust to hold the Positive Philosophy responsible for these inanities, or for those of thepseudo- positivists who would seem to set larger store by144 [PT. L. COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.their master's personal shortcomings than by his permanentlyvaluable contributions to philosophy. Not only the disciple,but also the impartial critic, may fairly urge that the PositivePhilosophy is something greater than Comte, just as the differential calculus is something greater than Newton or Leibnitz. If Newton, in his old age, had become so far lost toall sense of scientific propriety as to apply his method offluxions to the solution of physiological or ethical problems,much discredit would have attached to Newton, but none tothe method of fluxions. Succeeding inquirers would havecriticized him in the light of his own principles, and wouldhave felt obliged to mourn the decadence of his godlike intellect, but the question would have been mainly a personalone, affecting in no way our estimate of the Newtonianmathematics. In like manner, when we characterize Comte'slater speculations as vagaries hardly compatible with sanity,we cast no discredit upon the Positive Philosophy, since ourwhole argument implies that these speculations were conducted in utter disregard of those canons of research whichit is the chief glory of the Positive Philosophy to have instituted. It is one of Comte's most legitimate claims to immortal remembrance that, with greater authority and farwider scientific resources than Bacon, he succeeded in introducing the objective method into departments of researchwhere previously metaphysical interpretations had reignedsupreme and unquestioned. For this he must ever beregarded as one of the worthiest among the " servants andinterpreters of Nature. " And it is mainly because of hispre-eminence as an inaugurator of scientific method that ithas become customary to identify with Positivism everyphilosophy which, like the system expounded in this work,seeks to give synthetic expression to the ripest scientificthought of our age. If the question were only one of method,we might acquiesce in this identification. But, as I havealready plainly indicated and shall presently show more fullyCH. V]THE TWO METHODS. 145our divergence from Positivism is so fundamental with regard to the deepest and gravest questions with which Philosophy is concerned, that, as Comte would unquestionablyrepudiate us as disciples, so do we unhesitatingly repudiatshim as a master.CHAPTER VICAUSATION.In the course of our examination of the Kantian doctrine ofNecessary Truths, the origin and justification of our belief inthe necessity of causation was incidentally discussed. Wefound that this belief can be explained and defended only asthe product of a mental limitation due to absolute uniformityof experience. We believe that, under the requisite conditionsfire burned before we were born, that it nowburns in regionsto which we have never had access, and that it will continueto burn as long as the world lasts, simply because we are incapable of forming conceptions of which the materials arenot supplied by experience, and because experience has neverpresented to our consciousness an instance of fire which,under the requisite conditions for burning, did not burn. Or,in other words, we believe that in the absence of preventiveconditions, fire must always and everywhere burn, becauseour concept of fire is the concept of a thing which burns, andthis concept has been formed exclusively by our experienceof fire. You may, like a mediæval sorcerer, envelope yourhand in a soapy substance which will, for a few moments,check oxidation of the epidermis; or you may insert yourhand in the blaze and withdraw it again so quickly that,since chemical action takes time, oxidation will not have aCH . VI. ] CAUSATION.147chance to begin, and your skin will escape;-these are disturbing conditions. But to say that, in the absence of suchconditions, the blaze will not burn your inserted hand, is tostate a proposition which is unthinkable, a proposition ofwhich the elements cannot be united in thought save bytheir mutual destruction. Why is this proposition unthinkable? It is because not only the material of our knowledgebut our very mental structure itself, as I shall hereafter show,is due solely to that perpetual intercourse between subjectand object which we call experience, so that, whatever verbalfeats we may succeed in accomplishing, we can unite inthought no subject and predicate for the union of which experience has not in some way or other supplied the conditions. I do not mean to say that the proposition in questionis not one which some ingenious person might stoutly maintain as a theory. We might, no doubt, hold the theory thatFire does not burn, just as we might espouse the doctrinethat Triangles are circular, or that Matter is destructible. Butas was sufficiently proved in the chapter on the Test of Truth,this shows only that it is possible for men to accept anddefend propositions which they cannot truly conceive. It iseasy to state the proposition that the Whole is equal to itsPart; but it is none the less impossible to think the thoughtor no-thought, which the proposition seeks to express. Weare under a mental compulsion to think of the whole asgreater than its part, and to think of fire as a thing whichburns, because the conditions of our thinking have been prescribed by that intercourse between our mind and environingagencies, which we call experienceIt is for the same reason that the mind is compelled tobelieve in the necessity of causation, and that the cultivatedmind, which can realize all the essential conditions of thecase, is compelled to believe in its universality. For what isthe belief in the necessity and universality of causation?It is the belief that every event must be determined by someL 2148 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. L.preceding event and must itself determine some succeedingevent. And what is an event? It is a manifestation of force.The falling of a stone, the union of two gases, the blowing ofa wind, the breaking of wood or glass, the vibration of a cord,the expansion of a heated body, the sprouting of a seed, thecirculation of blood, the development of inflammation, thecontracting of a muscle, the thinking of a thought, the excitement of an emotion,-all these are manifestations of force,To speak of an event which is not a manifestation of force,is to use language which is empty of significance. Thereforeour belief in the necessity and universality of causation is thebelief that every manifestation of force must be preceded andsucceeded by some equivalent manifestation. Or, in anultimate analysis, it is the belief that force, as manifested toour consciousness, can neither arise out of nothing nor lapseinto nothing-can neither be created nor annihilated. Andthe negation of this belief is unthinkable; since to think itwould be to perform the impossible task of establishing inthought an equation between something and nothing.This, I suppose, is what Sir William Hamilton had in hismind when he asserted that our belief in the necessity anduniversality of causation is due to an original impotence ofthe conceptive faculty, -to our inability to conceive absolutebeginning or absolute ending. In his examination of Hamilton's philosophy, Mr. Mill has made sad havoc of some of thecrude and hasty statements, and yet more unfortunate theological illustrations, in which Hamilton couched this doctrine;but the doctrine itself he seems to have misunderstood ratherthan refuted. His favourite argument-that at one stage ofphilosophic culture we can conceive what at an earlier orlater stage we could not conceive-rests upon a confusion oflanguage which I trust has been sufficiently shown up in thecourse of the foregoing discussion. As I have already said,the only kind of inconceivability which we can admit as suchis an impotence which results from the very constitution ofBH. VI. ]CAUSATION. 149the thinking process. As was shown in the first chapter onthe Relativity of Knowledge, this is the case with our inabilityto conceive absolute beginning or absolute ending. We musttherefore, to a certain extent, accept the Hamiltonian doctrinethat our belief in the necessity and universality of causationis due to an original impotence of the conceptive faculty;save that an ultimate psychological analysis obliges us to regard this original impotence as simply the obverse of ourinability to transcend our experience.Here again we come upon a bit of common ground whichunderlies two opposing philosophies. For our last sentence,in its assertion and in its proviso, recognizes both aspects oftheuniversal truth of which Kant and Hamilton on the one hand,and Hume and Mill on the other hand, have persisted inrecognizing only one aspect. Here again we see exemplifiedwhat our sketch of the Newtonian discovery in the previouschapter taught us, —namely, the value of that objective methodwhich, instead of ignoring an unexplained residuum, recognizes it as justifying further research. The unexplainedresiduum in the present case was the coexistence of anelement of necessity in a given belief with an experientialorigin for the belief. Following the subjective method, Humedenied the necessity, Kant denied the experiential origin.But the objective method, recognizing the coexistence of thetwo as a fact to be accounted for, and employing a psychological analysis inaccessible to Hume and Kant, discovers thatthe necessity of the belief and its experiential origin arebut two sides of the same fundamental fact.From the origin and justification of our belief in causation,let us now pass to the contents of the belief. Since thereis nothing in the belief that has not been given in experience, let us endeavour to state what is and what is notgiven in our experience of an act of causation. In the firstplace sequence is clearly given in the phenomenon. " Evengranting that an effect may commence simultaneously with150 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. L...its cause," this view is in no way practically invalidated.As Mr. Mill says, "Whether the cause and its effect benecessarily successive or not, the beginning of a phenomenonis what implies a cause, and causation is the law of thesuccession of phenomena. I have no objection to definea cause, the assemblage of phenomena, which occurring,some phenomenon invariably commences, or has its originWhether the effect coincides in point of time with, or immediately follows, the hindmost of its conditions, is immaterial. At all events it does not precede it; and when weare in doubt, between two coexistent phenomena, which iscause and which is effect, we rightly deem the questionsolved if we can ascertain which of them preceded theother." 1Secondly, invariableness of sequence is given in our experience of causation. Invariableness is the chief mark bywhich we distinguish those sequences which are causal fromthose sequences which are commonly termed accidental.The well-known fallacy of post hoc, ergo propter hoc, uponwhich are founded most of the current hygienic and therapeutic vagaries which claim to be upheld by experience,arises from the neglect of this essential distinction. Itlumps together all kinds of sequence under the general headof causation. If drinking a cup of coffee is followed byheadache, or if a troublesome fit of indigestion ends aftertaking a dose of patent medicine, it is rashly inferred thatthe coffee caused the headache, or that the medicine curedthe indigestion. This is not legitimate induction. Thesequence may be accidental and not causal. The headachemay have been caused by eating hot risen biscuit, by inhalingcarbonic oxide sent up from the furnace, by overwork, or byloss of sleep; or it may be the premonitory symptom of atyphoid fever due to imperfect drainage. The indigestionmay have been cured by a ride on horseback, or by a walk¹ Mill, System of Logic, 6th edit. vol. i. p. 384.ĐE . VI ] CAUSATION. 151on a frosty morning, or by a piece of good news, or by arhythmical increase in the rate of nutrition for which nodefinite external cause is assignable. It is the business ofinduction to eliminate, as far as possible, all these coexistentpossible causes, so as to ascertain, after the elimination,whether the sequence between the presumed cause and theeffect is invariable. If it turns out to be so, and, still better,if by reasoning deductively from the experimentally-ascertained action of the coffee or the medicine upon the organictissues involved in the case, further proof of the invariableness of the given sequences can be obtained, —then we saythat we have detected a case of true causation. When wehave extended our inquiries in any case so far as to be ableto predicate invariable sequence, then we predicate causation.A moment's reflection, however, will show us that thereare sequences which have been invariable throughout thewhole course of human experience, but which are not regarded as causal sequences. Ever since there have beenconscious minds to interpret phenomena, day has followednight, and night has followed day, and yet no one would saythat day causes night, or that night causes day. In orderto include such cases as this, we must limit still furtherour definition of causation. The sequence must be unconditional as well as invariable. This, as Mr. Mill observes,"is what writers mean when they say that the notion ofcause involves the idea of necessity. If there be any meaning which confessedly belongs to the term ' necessity,' it isunconditionalness.1 That which is necessary, that which mustbe, means that which will be, whatever supposition we maymake in regard to all other things. The succession of dayand night evidently is not necessary in this sense. It isconditional on the occurrence of other antecedents. Thatwhich will be followed by a given consequent when, and1 This, it will be seen, agrees with Mr. Lewes's admirable view of Necesity, cited above in Chapter III.152 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.[PT. Lonly when, some third circ*mstance also exists, is not thecause, even though no case should ever have occurred inwhich the phenomenon took place without it." Now, eitherday or night " might have existed for any length of time, andthe other not have followed the sooner for its existence: dayfollows night only if certain other antecedents [the presenceof the sun above the horizon, and the absence of any eclipsingopaque body from the direct path of the solar rays] exist;and where those antecedents existed, it would follow in anycase. No one, probably, ever called night the cause of day;mankind must so soon have arrived at the very obviousgeneralization, that the state of general illumination whichwe call day would follow from the presence of a sufficientlyluminous body, whether darkness had preceded or not. "Mr. Mill's further explanation of this point is so luminousthat I prefer to cite it in his own words, rather than toabridge and dilute it. "To some," says Mr. Mill, "it mayappear that the sequence between night and day being invariable in our experience, we have as much ground in thiscase as experience can give in any case, for recognizing thetwo phenomena as cause and effect; and that to say thatmore is necessary-to require a belief that the succession isunconditional, or in other words that it would be invariableunder all changes of circ*mstances, is to acknowledge incausation an element of belief not derived from experience.The answer to this is, that it is experience itself whichteaches us that one uniformity of sequence is conditionaland another unconditional. When we judge that the succession of night and day is a derivative sequence, depending onsomething else, we proceed on grounds of experience. It isthe evidence of experience which convinces us that day couldequally exist without being followed by night, and that nightcould equally exist without being followed by day. To saythat these beliefs are not generated by our mere observationof sequence,' is to forget that twice in every twenty-fouDB. VI.] CAUSATION. 153hours, when the sky is clear, we have an experimentum crucisthat the cause of day is the sun. We have an experimentalknowledge of the sun which justifies us on experimentalgrounds in concluding, that if the sun were always abovethe horizon there would be day, though there had been nonight, and that if the sun were always below the horizonthere would be night, though there had been no day. Wethus know from experience that the succession of night andday is not unconditional. Let me add, that the antecedentwhich is only conditionally invariable, is not the invariableantecedent. Though a fact may, in experience, have alwaysbeen followed by another fact, yet if the remainder ofour experience teaches us that it might not always be sofollowed, or if the experience itself is such as leaves roomfor a possibility that the known cases may not correctlyrepresent all possible cases, the hitherto invariable antecedentis not accounted the cause: but why? Because we are notsure that it is the invariable antecedent."Furthermore let it be noted that " such cases of sequenceas that of day and night not only do not contradict thedoctrine which resolves causation into invariable sequence,but are necessarily implied in that doctrine. It is evident,that from a limited number of unconditional sequences, therewill result a much greater number of conditional ones,Certain causes being given, that is, certain antecedents whichare unconditionally followed by certain consequents; themere coexistence of these causes will give rise to an unlimited number of additional uniformities. If two causesexist together, the effects of both will exist together; and itmany causes coexist, these causes will give rise to neweffects, accompanying or succeeding one another in someparticular order, which order will be invariable while thecauses continue to coexist, but no longer. The motion ofthe earth in a given orbit round the sun, is a series of changeswhich follow one another as antecedents and consequents,154 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Land will continue to do so while the sun's attraction, and theforce with which the earth tends to advance in a direct linethrough space, continue to coexist in the same quantities asat present. But vary either of these causes, and the unvarying succession of motions would cease to take place. Theseries of the earth's motions, therefore, though a case ofsequence invariable within the limits of human experience,is not a case of causation. It is not unconditional. " Julydoes not cause August, though it invariably precedes it. Forthe sequence is conditioned by the coexistence of a given.ratio between the solar gravitation and the earth's tangentialmomentum, with a given inclination of the earth's axis ofrotation to the plane of its orbit. Vary either of thesefactors, which are the real causes of the seasons, and thehitherto invariable sequence between July and August willbe altered.Causation may therefore be defined as the unconditionalinvariable sequence of one event, or concurrence of events ,upon another; and this is all that is given in the phenomenon. But metaphysics is not content with this conceptionof Cause. It prefers to regard causation as a kind of constraint by which the antecedent event obliges the consequentevent to follow it. It postulates a hidden power, an occultavis, in the cause, which operates as an invincible nexusbetween it and the effect. And it is by virtue of the exertion of this occult energy that cause, as formulated by metaphysics, is called Efficient Cause, in distinction from the onlycause known to science, the unconditional invariable antecedent, which may be termed Phenomenal Cause.This explanation bears the distinctive marks of a metaphysical hypothesis, as enumerated in the preceding chapter.To the elements of sequence, invariableness and unconditionalness embraced in the scientific explanation, it superaddaan occulta vis, an element which is not given in the pheno1 Mill, System of Logic, 6th edit. vol. i. pp. 379–381.KH . VI. CAUSATION. 155menon. No one pretends that we can actually cognize thisocculta vis. The deepest analysis of our experience of the actof causation will yield no such element. Viewed under itssubjective aspect, our knowledge of causation amounts simplyto this, —that an experience of certain invariable sequencesamong phenomena has wrought in us a set of correspondingindissolubly coherent sequences among our states of consciousness; so that whenever the state of consciousnessanswering to the cause arises, the state of consciousnessanswering to the effect inevitably follows. But answering tothe occulta vis we have no state of consciousness whatever.Moreover the hypothesis of an occulta vis, like so manyother metaphysical hypotheses, straightway lands us in animpossibility of thought. The proposition that the causeconstrains the effect to follow, is an unthinkable proposition;since it requires us to conceive the action of matter uponmatter, which, as we saw in our first chapter, we can innowise do. As was there pointed out, neither by the artificeof an intermolecular ether or of centres of attractive andrepulsive force, nor by any other imaginable artifice, can wetruly conceive one particle of matter acting upon another.What we do know is neither more nor less than what is givenin consciousness, namely, that certain coexistences invariablyprecede or follow certain other coexistences. That matter asobjectively existing may exert upon matter some constraining power which, as for ever unknowable by us, may be calledan occulta vis, I readily grant. Thought is not the measureof things, and it was therefore unphilosophical in Hume todeny the existence of any such unknown power. Thingsmay exist, in heaven and on earth, which are neither dreamtof in our philosophy nor conceivable by our intelligence.Respecting the external reality we say nothing: we onlyaffirm that no such occulta vis is given in the phenomenonof causation. Any hypothesis which postulates such anunknown element as a means of explaining the phenomenon156 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT Lis unverifiable and, as such, science cannot admit it, nor canour Cosmic Philosophy admit it.Nevertheless the belief that causation implies somethingmore than mere invariability of sequence, has been a persistent belief; and as such, it is a fact which philosophy isrequired to account for. Its explanation will not be difficultif we look to the source from which our notion of Power isderived. That source is the peculiar class of states of consciousness which accompany our voluntary actions. Part ofour notion of Power consists in our consciousness of anability to generate certain muscular sequences by means ofan act of volition; and this amounts to no more than anexpectation that the antecedent, volition, will be followed bythe consequent, muscular movement. But the other part ofour notion of Power is derived from the sense of effort whichinvariably accompanies our muscular actions. Every suchaction "has to contend against resistance, either that of anoutward object or the mere friction and weight of the movingorgan; every voluntary motion is consequently attended bythe muscular sensation of fatigue. Effort, considered as anaccompaniment of action upon the outward world, meansnothing to us but those muscular sensations." Here, then,is the shape of our primitive conception of Power; the consciousness of volition, accompanied by the conscious sensation of effort overcoming resistance, and the conscious expectation of a consequent muscular movement. Now, by thevery relativity of our thinking, as will be shown more fullyin the next chapter, we are compelled to formulate our conception of the Power which is manifested in the sequence ofexternal phenomena, in terms of that Power which is alonedirectly known to us in consciousness. Hence, when we seeone object moved by another, we conceive the impellingobject as putting forth effort and overcoming the inertia ofthe impelled object. Though we no longer, like some chil-¹ Mill, Examination of Hamilton's Philosophy, vol. ii. p. 47.DEL . VI.CAUSATION.157dren and all savages, regard this as a conscious effort,attended by volition, we still conceive it as an effort attendedby resistance. And from this anthropomorphism of thoughtare derived two closely related, though apparently incompatible, metaphysical theories; the theory that matter, regardedas a cause, is endowed with an occulta vis; and the theorythat matter, regarded as an effect, can move only under constraint from without.Such is the origin of our conception of power in causation.Yet that the conception, as thus formulated, cannot correspond to the external reality, is a truth so obvious, at thepresent stage of our discussion, as hardly to need pointingout. It is enough to remark that since effort, as known tous, is only an affection of our consciousness, we cannotconceive the wind which overturns a tree as exerting effort,unless we mentally endow the wind with consciousness.The primitive man did not scruple at this; to him the Windwas a superhuman person. We, who have outgrown fetishism,must take the other horn of the dilemma, and admit thatwhatever may be the force which the wind exerts, it cannotbe the force which we know as effort. By this alternativedifficulty we may recognize the fact that we have here againcome face to face with the Unknowable. What the processof causation is in itself we cannot know. We can know itonly as it is presented to our consciousness, as the unconditional invariable sequence of events.Our account of causation would not be complete withoutsome mention of an attempt which has again been made, of lateyears, to pass beyond the limits of intelligence, and cognizethe external process in itself. This attempt, based upon animperfect apprehension of the foregoing analysis, starts withthe assertion that in our primitive consciousness of Powerwe have a true cognition of an Efficient Cause. Accordingto this doctrine, the expectation that effort will overcomeresistance and cause motion is a bit of d priori knowledge158 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY [PT. L. .not given in experience. In our consciousness of effort wehave direct knowledge of the causal nexus between the antecedent, volition, and the consequent, muscular contraction .volition is therefore known to us as an efficient cause of onekind of actions; and hence we must infer that it is the soleefficient cause of all kinds of actions. Matter is absolutelyinert it is inconceivable that matter should act upon matter,but it is conceivable that mind should act upon matter; andtherefore all phenomena which are not the direct resultsof human or animal will, are the direct results of divine will.Such is the so- called Volitional Theory of Causation.With the theistic implications of this doctrine I shall dealin a future chapter. At present we are concerned only withits psychological basis. And first we may observe that thosewho assert the action of mind upon matter to be conceivable,appear to have forgotten the great difficulty under whichmetaphysics laboured during the seventeenth century. ToLeibnitz and the Cartesians the action of mind upon matterwas the thing inconceivable above all others, to account forwhich two theories were framed, among the most remarkablein the annals of metaphysics. These are, the doctrine ofOccasional Causes, expounded by the Cartesian Malebranche,and the doctrine of Pre- established Harmony, expounded byLeibnitz, who is said to have plagiarized it from Spinoza.The Cartesians held it to be inconceivable, and therefore (onthe subjective method) impossible, that thoughts or feelingsin the mind should produce movements in the body; andconsequently they regarded the concurrence of mental andmaterial facts as mere Occasions on which the real agent,God, thought fit to exert his power as a Cause." So that,when you will to raise your arm, God interposes and lifts thearm for you; and he does this, not as a Being endowed withvolition, but as an omnipotent Being, capable of working amiracle. To Leibnitz this seemed an unworthy view ofdivine action. He preferred to regard the entire series of66©E . VI. ] CAUSATION. 159volitions and the entire series of apparently consequent muscular motions as independent series, pre-established in harmony with each other by the contrivance of the Deity froma time preceding the commencement of the world. So that,when you will to raise your arm, the arm moves, because Godin the past eternity constructed the series of your volitionsand the series of your motions like two clocks which accurately correspond to each other in their rates of ticking.Such theories as these can, of course, be neither proved nordisproved. They are cited as interesting specimens of themanner in which human speculation attempts to grapplewith realities which lie beyond its reach; but, as being unverifiable, our philosophy cannot recognize them as legitimate hypotheses. Coupling them with the Volitional Theory,the result is mutual destruction. In point of fact, we are nomore directly cognizant of the action of mind upon matterthan we are directly cognizant of the action of matter uponmatter. " Our will causes our bodily actions in the samesense (and in no other) in which cold causes ice, or a sparkcauses an explosion of gunpowder." The antecedent, volition,and the subsequent, muscular movement, are subjects of consciousness. But the relation of invariable sequence betweenthem is known by experience, just as we know any otherrelation of sequence. As Mr. Mill observes, it cannot beadmitted "that our consciousness of the volition contains initself any d priori knowledge that the muscular motion willfollow. If our nerves of motion were paralyzed, or ourmuscles stiff and inflexible, and had been so all our lives,there is no ground for supposing that we should ever (unlessby information from other people) have known anything ofvolition as a physical power, or been conscious of anytendency in feelings of our mind to produce motions of ourbody, or of other bodies."1 In such case we might stillhave had a sensation, like that which we now term the1 System of Logic, 6th edit. vol. i. p. 391.160 [PT. L. COSMIC PHILOSOPHY."consciousness of effort," but we should have known itmerely as " a feeling of uneasiness, accompanying our feelings of desire." As Sir William Hamilton acutely observes,the Volitional Theory " is refuted by the consideration, thatbetween the overt act of corporeal movement of which we arecognizant, and the internal act of mental determination ofwhich we are also cognizant, there intervenes a numerousseries of intermediate agencies of which we have no [direct]knowledge; and, consequently, that we can have no consciousness of any causal connection between the extremelinks of this chain, the volition to move and the limb moving,as this hypothesis asserts. No one is immediately conscious, forexample, of moving his arm through his volition. Previouslyto this ultimate movement, muscles, nerves, a multitude ofsolid and fluid parts, must be set in motion by the will, butof this motion, we know, from consciousness, absolutelynothing. A person struck with paralysis is conscious of noinability in his limb to fulfil the determinations of his will;and it is only after having willed, and finding that his limbsdo not obey his volition, that he learns by this experience,that the external movement does not follow the internal act.But as the paralytic learns after the volition that his limbsdo not obey his mind, so it is only after volition that theman in health learns that his limbs do obey the mandates ofhis will."1To this crushing refutation it may be added that even ifvolition were the efficient cause of our own movements, as weadmit it to be the phenomenal cause, it would not follow thatit is the cause of anything else. As the passage just citedfrom Hamilton shows, the only direct effect which volition canbe known to produce, is nervo- muscular action, -a very exceptional, peculiarly animal, phenomenon. And yet, " becausethis is the only cause of which we are conscious, being the1 Lectures on Metaphysics, Lect. 39; see also Dissertations to Reid, pp. 866,867.DE . VI. ] CAUSATION. 161only one of which in the nature of the case we can be conscious, since it is the only one which exists within ourselves," we are asked to assume, without further evidence,that throughout the infinitely multitudinous and heterogeneous phenomena of nature, no other kind of cause exists!A more amazing example of the audacity of the subjectivemethod could hardly be found. In Mr. Mill's forcible language, "the supporters of the Volition Theory ask us to inferthat volition causes everything, for no reason except that itcauses one particular thing; although that one phenomenon,far from being a type of all natural phenomena, is eminentlypeculiar; its laws bearing scarcely any resemblance to thoseof any other phenomenon, whether of inorganic or of organicnature."Thus ends in signal failure the last of the many attemptswhich have been made to invalidate the principle of theRelativity of Knowledge. Start from what point we may,we must sooner or later reach the periphery of the circlewhich includes all that is knowable. Every attempt tooverstep this periphery, and gain a sure foothold in the darkregion beyond, must result in utter discomfiture. The inquiry into the origin and contents of our belief in Causationreveals, more clearly than ever, our impotence to deal withobjective powers and existences. The attempt to detect theocculta vis or hidden energy in the act of causation, is but thefruitless attempt to bind in the chains of some thinkableformula that universal Protean Power, of whose multitudinouseffects we are cognizant in the sequence of phenomena, butwhich in its secret nature must ever morkingly elude ourgrasp.VOL LMCHAPTER VII·ANTHROPOMORPHISM AND COSMISM.THE body of philosophic truth contained in the six foregoing chapters can in nowise claim Auguste Comte as itsoriginator. The doctrine of the relativity of knowledge has,as we have seen, been accepted more or less unreservedly bymost of the thinkers of the last two centuries; and has,indeed, never been wholly lost sight of in philosophic speculation since the time of Protagoras. Nevertheless the doctrinehas been variously interpreted by different philosophers;and we have seen that the Positivist interpretation of it,propounded by Littré and Mill, is essentially different fromthe interpretation given by Mr. Spencer, and here adopted.Again, the doctrine that all knowledge is the product of theintercourse between the sentient organism and its environment is a doctrine which has been held by more than halfthe philosophic world since the time of Locke. The doctrinethat causation, as cognizable by us, is merely unconditionalinvariable sequence was the doctrine of Hume, Brown, andJames Mill; and for its further defence and elucidation weare indebted, not to Comte, but to John Stuart Mill. Thetest of truth, as stated in the third chapter of this work, wasjust as much or just as little postulated by Comte as bypreceding thinkers: it was first definitely propounded by Mr.Spencer, and its validity has been repeatedly challenged byCH. VII.] ANTHROPOMORPHISM AND COSMISM. 163Mr. Mill, the most eminent psychologist who has yet declared his assent to all the fundamental doctrines of Positivism.Nor was Comte the first to insist upon the exclusive use ofthe objective method in all departments of research; forBacon, as we have seen, had enunciated this precept withequal vigour and impressiveness, though with less commanding scientific authority. It is to be regretted, moreover, thatwe cannot even accredit Comte with unflinching loyalty tothis principle. Not only have we seen him openly disavowing it, but we have been called upon to contemplate, inhis " Subjective Synthesis," the most lamentable instanceafforded by history of the wonderful extent of aberrationpossible to the intellectus sibi permissus.All the above truths, then, so far as they were understoodby Comte, were accepted by him as he found them. He didnot originate them, nor did he place them, from the psychological point of view, upon any surer footing than they hadoccupied before . That psychological analysis, in the light ofwhich they have been here exhibited, and by which alonethey can be securely established , Comte unreservedly anddisdainfully repudiated. Asserting as he did that all directobservation and comparison of states of consciousness is vainand nugatory, Comte could only accept the doctrine of therelativity of knowledge and its corollaries as empiricaldoctrines. We shall frequently have occasion to remarkupon the vulnerable condition in which the Positive Philosophy is left, owing to this disregard of psychology. Hereindeed was Comte's weak point, as it is Mr. Spencer's strongpoint. As an observer and interpreter of states of consciousness Comte was below mediocrity-hardly fit to be rankedwith Cousin or Dugald Stewart; while, in power of psychological analysis, Herbert Spencer has been surpassed by nothinker that ever lived, and has been rivalled only by Aristotle, Berkeley, and Kant. And it is accordingly not Comte,but Spencer, who has vrought the truths above enumeratedM 2164 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Linto an organized body of doctrine resting upon an indestructible basis in consciousness.Since, then, the foundations of the scientific philosophy hereexpounded were laid down by Bacon, Locke, Hume, andKant, and since that philosophy has first been presented asa coherent body of universal truth by Herbert Spencer, it isclear that there exists a very considerable body of philosophicdoctrine, which is not metaphysical or theological, and which,nevertheless, does not owe its existence to Comte. It is clearthat we cannot concede to Comte such a monopoly of the scientific method of philosophizing that all scientific philosophy mustbe designated as Positivism. It does not yet appear, fromthe foregoing summary, that scientific philosophy owes anything whatever to Comte. Yet if we were to rest in any suchconclusion as this, we should be seriously in error. It is notto be gainsaid that the speculations of Comte have played amost conspicuous and important part in directing the courseof philosophic inquiry in the nineteenth century. Athinker ofComte's calibre does not live and write to no purpose. Andwhile it will appear, in the course of the following discussion,that the peculiar theories of Comte are such as philosophycannot possibly adopt, it will also appear that these theories,besides containing a germ of truth, are instructive even intheir erroneousness. Even while demonstrating that we cannot,without grievously retrograding, consider ourselves followersof Comte or advocates of the Positive Philosophy, we mustat the same time freely admit our indebtedness to Comte forsundry suggestions of the highest importance. We mustnot refuse to Comte the meed of acknowledgment which weshould have no hesitation in giving to Kant, or Spinoza, oreven to Hegel, if occasion were to be offered. Least of allcan we acquiesce in Prof. Huxley's opinion that there isnothing whatever of any value in the philosophy of Comtewhich is not also to be found in the philosophy of Hume.The point is one of such importance in itself, and is soJH. VII. ]ANTHROPOMORPHISM AND COSMISM. 165narrowly implicated with much of the following discussion,that I must devote a few moments to the elucidation of it,before entering upon the special subject of this chapter.In spite of his feebleness as a psychologist, and hisnumerous unphilosophic idiosyncrasies of temperament,Comte was possessed of one mental endowment, mostbrilliant at any time, and most useful to a thinker livingin the first half of the nineteenth century. It is by virtueof this mental endowment that Comte is chiefly distinguished from the thinkers of the eighteenth century; andit was by dint of this that he succeeded in making himself,more conspicuously than any of those thinkers, the herald,though not the inaugurator, of modern philosophy. I referto that historic sense, -that almost unique power of investing himself, so to speak, with the mental habits of bygonegenerations, and of entering into the very spirit which dictated past events and obsolete modes of thinking, -whichmakes the fifth volume of Comte's great work one of themost valuable and suggestive treatises ever written concerning the concrete phenomena of history. Many thinkersbefore Comte had conceived the idea of a philosophy ofhistory-such were Machiavelli, Vico, Montesquieu, Voltaire,Turgot, and Condorcet; but none of these great menpossessed in so high a degree the historic sense necessary forthe realization of such a project. It is the influence of thishistoric sense of Comte, more or less consciously felt, whichlends a great part of their value to many of the most strikinghistorical treatises of our time,-to the colossal works ofGrote and Mommsen, as well as to the monographs ofMr. Bryce, Dr. Bridges, M. Taine, M. Renan, and the authorof "Ecce hom*o." It was the lack of such a historic sense,and the adherence to the old disposition to examine pastevents through the refracting medium of recently acquiredhabits of thought, which constituted Mr. Buckle's chiefsource of failure as a philosophic historian.166 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY [PT. 1. .Now I say it was by dint of this rare historic sense thatComte succeeded in taking a step which was not only animportant advance, but in many respects a veritable revolution in philosophy. It was Comte who first brought intoprominence the idea of a philosophy of history which shouldalso be the history of philosophy. The thinkers of theeighteenth century, with Hume at their head, had studiedsystems of philosophy, much as anatomists before Cuvierhad studied animal and vegetal organisms, as detached independent existences, without regard to their past or future.But to Comte is due the grand and luminous conception of ahistoric development of thought, from the earliest to thelatest ages of human speculative activity. Just as Cuvierproclaimed it irrational to study existing organisms withoutconstant reference to extinct organisms, Comte pronouncedit irrational to coordinate existing opinions, save in their relation to past opinions. He grasped, as it had not before beengrasped, the truth that each body of doctrines has its root insome ancestral body of doctrines; that throughout the wholeof man's speculative career there has been going on an Evolution of Philosophy, of which the thorough recognition of therelativity of knowledge must be the inevitable outcome.Herein lay the originality of Comte; an originality of whichit is hardly correct to say that Prof. Huxley disparages it,since he passes over it in silence and does not appear to havediscerned it. Yet as to the originality of this conception,there can be no question whatever. Neither Hume nor anyother thinker of the eighteenth century had compassed it.Lessing, indeed,—a man far in advance of his age, ―had, inhis work entitled " The Education of the Human Race,"sketched a theory of the evolution of speculative ideas; butit was only imperfectly, if at all, that he comprehended thenature and direction of that evolution. He may be regardedas a forerunner, but not as an anticipator, of Comte.As to the importance of Comte's conception there can beCH. VII.] ANTHROPOMORPHISM AND COSMISM. 167no more question than as to its originality. It constituteda revolution in philosophy as thorough and wide-reaching asthe revolution which Cuvier, by fusing together the studiesof comparative anatomy and paleontology, brought about inbiology. In working out the details of his conception,Comte, like Cuvier, fell into many grave errors: but thegrea thing was, to have framed the conception. As Mr.Spencer wisely and wittily observes, " Inquiring into thepedigree of an idea is not a bad means of estimating itsvalue." Comte's conception of the evolution of philosophyobliges us henceforth to test ideas by their pedigree,-totrace their origin in the employment of the subjective or ofthe objective method. Surely it was no small achievementto bring together the truths which Locke and Hume andothers had laboriously detected, and to exhibit them as thenecessary outcome of twenty-five centuries of speculativeactivity. For by this proceeding the truths in question wereat least historically justified. And although the psychological justification of them had to be left for Mr. Spencer,although it can be amply proved that Comte, in his ignoranceof psychology, seriously misinterpreted the import of thesetruths, that is no reason why we should hesitate to acknowledge the greatness of his achievement. The doctrine ofwhich Cuvier was the most eminent upholder-the doctrineof fixity of species-is one which modern biology rejects,just as modern philosophy rejects the doctrines especiallycharacteristic of Comte's system. Nevertheless, as we admitof Cuvier, that his innovation, in studying all existingorganisms with reference to past organisms, amounted to arevolution in the attitude of biology; so we must admit ofComte, that his innovation, in studying all phases of thoughtwith reference to preceding phases of thought, amounted toa revolution in the attitude of philosophy. Yet the latteradmission no more makes us followers of Comte than theformer admission makes us followers of Cuvier.168 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. 1The significance of this illustration will become still moreapparent as we proceed to examine the attempt of Comte todescribe the course of philosophic evolution as actually shownin history. According to Comte there are three modes ofphilosophizing -the Theological, the Metaphysical, and thePositive. The first two modes are characterized by theattempt to formulate the unknowable Cause or causes ofphenomena; but Positivism, recognizing the futility of allsuch attempts, ignores the unknowable Cause or causes ofphenomena. Positivism limits itself to ascertaining uniformities of coexistence and sequence among phenomena.Metaphysics and Theology superadd investigations concerning the nature of the hidden efficient cause of the phenomena; but Metaphysics regards this cause as a mere abstractentity, while Theology regards it as endowed with volitionand intelligence. There are three successive stages oftheology; Fetishism, in which phenomena, being not yetgeneralized, are regarded each as endowed with a volition ofits own; Polytheism, in which generalized groups of phenomena are regarded each as under the control of a presidingdeity endowed with volition; and Monotheism, which ariseswhen men have gained the conception of a Universe, andhave generalized the causes of phenomena until they havearrived at the notion of a single First Cause. According toComte, philosophy began in fetishism; as science progressively arranged phenomena in groups of wider and widergenerality, philosophy passed through polytheism into monotheism; and as with its increasing generality, the primitiveanthropomorphic conception of cause faded away, becomingreplaced by the conception of an unknowable Cause manifested in phenomena, philosophy became metaphysical:finally, when the unknowable Cause is wholly ignored, andno account is taken of anything beyond the immediate content of observed facts, philosophy becomes positive. Forwhile Comte did not follow Hume and Berkeley to the AJ.TH. VII.] ANTHROPOMORPHISM AND COSMISM. 169tent of explicitly or implicitly denying the independentexistence of a Power manifested in phenomena; while hewould, if consistent with his own principles, have regardedsuch a denial as an overstepping of the limits within whichpositive speculation should be confined; it is none the lesstrue that he ignored the existence of any such Power ascompletely as if he had held the extreme idealist doctrinewhich pronounces it a mere figment of the imagination. Soutterly foreign to Positivism is Mr. Spencer's doctrine ofthe Unknowable, that M. Littré, who is of all living menthe most thoroughly and consistently a Positivist, condemnsit as a baseless metaphysical speculation.Such is the celebrated " Law of the Three Stages," whichis regarded by Positivists as one of the greatest achievements of the human mind, and which impartial criticismmust regard as an achievement of sufficient importance tohave wrought a complete revolution in the attitude ofmodern philosophy. That it also contains a large amount oftruth, as a concise generalization of historical facts, can bedenied by no competent student of history. But, whilefreely conceding all this, it will appear, on a closer examination, that the doctrine in question is rather a foreshadowingof the true statement than the true statement itself; and thatin one all-important particular it is utterly inadmissible. Letus begin by inquiring how far the progress of human thought,with reference to the unknown Cause or causes of phenomena, can be regarded as divisible into stages, and in whatsense Comte really intended to assert that there are threestages. It is important that both these points should bedetermined, in order that our conception of the character ofthe speculative development may be rendered sufficientlyprecise, and in order to ascertain how far Comte understoodthat character.Upon this point, as upon many others, Comte has left onrecord assertions which, if literally interpreted, simply cancel170 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [IT. I.each other. At the beginning of the " Philosophie Positive,"he tells us that " the mind employs successively in each of itsresearches three methods of philosophizing, of which thecharacter is essentially different and even radically opposed-first the theological method, then the metaphysical, lastlythe positive. The theological system arrives at the highest perfection of which it is susceptible, when it has substituted theprovidential action of a single Being for the capricious playof the innumerable independent deities which were primitively imagined. Likewise the perfection of the metaphysicalsystem consists in conceiving, instead of many particularentities, one grand entity, Nature, as the source of all phenoFinally the perfection of the positive system wouldbe to represent all observable phenomena as particular casesof a single general fact." And hence, says Comte, "thesethree general systems of conceptions concerning the ensembleof phenomena mutually exclude each other." Now Comteelsewhere maintains that, so far from mutually excludingeach other, the three methods of philosophizing have coexisted with each other since the dawn of speculation; andthat, in particular, the metaphysical method is merelymodification of the theological method.The truth is, however, that the so- called " Law of theThree Stages " was an empirical generalization from the facts ofhistory, and that, with his customary indifference to psychological interpretations, Comte did not concern himself withthe character of the mental processes involved in thespeculative progression which he sought to formulate. WhatComte really saw was, that men, when they first began tospeculate upon the phenomena of nature, imagined behindevery phenomenon, save possibly a few of the most familiarones, an impelling will, like the human will; that, as theanthropomorphic character of this conception slowly fadedaway, it left the conception of a hidden Power or powers, toascertain the nature of which was long supposed to be theTH. VIL. ) ANTHROPOMORPHISM AND COSMISM. 171legitimate business of philosophy; and that, lastly, with thefurther progress of thought, philosophy must give up theattempt to ascertain the nature of this hidden Power ofpowers, and concern itself solely with coexistences andsequences among phenomena. All this is true so far as itgoes, its confirmation being written on every page of history.Nevertheless, all this is but one side of the truth. The truthhas another side, which Comte never saw, and which nowriter of the Positivist school has ever given any evidenceof discerning. What Comte did not see was, that from firstto last there is no change in the nature of the psychologicalprocess; and that, even at the last, the hidden Power underlying and sustaining the world of phenomena can no morebe ignored than at the beginning. Let us examine both thesepoints, and note well their significance.In the first place there is no change in the nature of themental processes concerned in the development. From firstto last, whether we give a theological, a metaphysical, or ascientific explanation of any phenomenon, we are interpretingit in terms of consciousness. To recur to our old illustration; on seeing a tree blown down by the wind, the primitiveman concludes that the wind possesses intelligence andexerts volition: he calls it Hermes, or Boreas, or Orpheus,and erects to it a temple, wherein by prayer and sacrifice bemay avert its displeasure. In a later age the wind is nolonger regarded as endowed with conscious volition; but itis still regarded as exerting effort, and overcoming the forceswhich tend to keep the tree in its place. Obviously this isat bottom the same conception as its predecessor, save that itis less crudely anthropomorphic. Now in the scientific explanation, we omit also the conception of a specific nisus oreffort, and regard the falling of the tree as an event invariablyconsequent upon the blowing of the wind with a givenmomentum. Here, perhaps, it may seem that we quite getrid of every subjective or anthropomorphic element. But172 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [VT. Lthis is a mistake. The use of the word " momentum" showshow we are compelled to conceive the event as a manifestation of force. We may abolish the figment of a specificocculta vis; but, strive as we will; we cannot mentallyrepresent the event otherwise than as a differential result ofthe excess of one quantum of force over another quantumof force. And what do we mean by force? Our conceptionof force is nothing but a generalized abstraction from oursensations of muscular resistance. That such a conceptionis merely symbolic, that it does not truly represent the realforce objectively existing, I have already shown. Nevertheless, from the relativity of our thought, such is the only conception which we can frame. Therefore, I repeat, from firstto last, whether we give a theological, a metaphysical, or ascientific explanation of any phenomenon, we alike interpretit in terms of consciousness. Whether we frame the crudeconception of an arbitrary volition, or the refined conceptionof a uniformly conditioned force, we must equally admit thatour subjective feelings are the only materials with whichthe conception can be framed. The consciousness of forceremains dominant from first to last, and can be abolishedonly by abolishing consciousness itself.But now, in the second place, this final scientific conceptionof a uniformly conditioned force cannot even be framed saveby postulating an unconditioned Power existing independentlyof consciousness, to which no limit is conceivable in time orspace , and of which all phenomena, as known to us, are themanifestations. It was demonstrated above, in the fourthchapter, that without postulating such an Absolute Existence,we can frame no theory whatever, either of external or ofinternal phenomena, even our proof of the relativity ofknowledge immediately becoming nonsense in such case. Itwas shown that the existence of such a Power independentof us is an element involved in our consciousness of ourown existence-is, in short the " obverse of our self- con-JH. VII. ] ANTHROPOMORPHISM AND COSMISM. 173sciousness." Thus the three stages disappear entirely, andthe three terminal conceptions which are alleged as distinctively characteristic of the stages are seen to be identical.The God of the monotheist, the Nature of the metaphysician,and the Absolute Being which science is compelled topostulate, differ only as symbols differ which stand for thesame eternal fact. If there be any confusion still leftregarding this point, it will be dispelled by the followingcitation from Mr. Spencer:-"' The progress of our conceptions, and of each branch ofknowledge, is from beginning to end intrinsically alike. Thereare not three methods of philosophizing radically opposed;but one method of philosophizing which remains, in essence,the same. At first, and to the last, the conceived causalagencies of phenomena have a degree of generality corresponding to the width of the generalizations whichexperiences have determined; and they change just asgradually as experiences accumulate. The integration ofcausal agencies, originally thought of as multitudinousand local, but finally believed to be one and universal, is aprocess which involves the passing through all intermediatesteps between these extremes; and any appearance of stagescan be but superficial. Supposed concrete and individualcausal agencies coalesce in the mind as fast as groups ofphenomena are assimilated, or seen to be similarly causedAlong with their coalescence, comes a greater extension oftheir individualities, and a concomitant loss of distinctnessin their individualities Gradually, by continuance of suchcoalescences, causal agencies become, in thought, diffused and indefinite. And eventually, without any change in thenature of the process, there is reached the consciousness of auniversal causal agency, which cannot be conceived." As the progress of thought is one, so is the end one.There are not three possible terminal conceptions; but onlya single terminal conception. When the theological idea of174 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Lthe providential action of one Being is developed to itsultimate form, by the absorption of all independent secondaryagencies, it becomes the conception of a Being immanent inall phenomena; and the reduction of it to this state impliesthe fading-away, in thought, of all those anthropomorphicattributes by which the aboriginal idea was distinguished.The alleged last term of the metaphysical system—the conception of a single great general entity, Nature, as the sourceof all phenomena-is a conception identical with the previousone: the consciousness of a single source which, in comingto be regarded as universal, ceases to be regarded as conceivable, differs in nothing but name from the consciousnessof one Being manifested in all phenomena. And similarly,that which is described as the ideal state of science-thepower to represent all observable phenomena as particularcases of a single general fact -implies the postulating ofsome ultimate Existence of which this single fact is alleged;and the postulating of this ultimate Existence involves astate of consciousness indistinguishable from the other two. " ¹This completely unanswerable statement exhibits Mr.Spencer's unrivalled power of psychologic analysis in strikingcontrast to the weakness under which Comte laboured fromhis neglect of such analysis. And it shows that Comte'sconception of the order of philosophic evolution was entirelyinadequate, and in the most important point entirely erroneous. It shows that the fundamental characteristic ofPositive Philosophy, as asserted by Comte and as admittedby his followers, is the non-recognition of the absolute andinfinite Power which is manifested in phenomena. Or, touse Mr. Spencer's words, the essential principle of Comte'sphilosophy is " an avowed ignoring of Cause altogether. Forif it is not, what becomes of his alleged distinction between theperfection of the positive system and the perfection of themetaphysical system? " According to Comte's own definition,1 Spencer: Recent Discussions, p. 124.CH. VII.] ANTHROPOMORPHISM AND COSMISM. 175the terminal conception of the metaphysical system is thatof a single great Entity or Existence as the source of allphenomena; and since we have here shown that this veryconception is the final conception in which science also mustrest, the only possible step in advance which can be taken byPositivism is the elimination of this conception altogether.Prof. Huxley is thoroughly justified, therefore, in describingthe name Positivism as implying a system of thought whichrecognizes nothing beyond the observed contents of phenomena: this description would be acknowledged as strictlyaccurate by M. Littré, and indeed expresses neither more norless than that which Comte sought to express when hedefined the perfection of the positive system to be the contemplation of all observable phenomena as particular casesof a single general fact, and omitted to add that this singlefact must be alleged of some Existence of which all observablephenomena are manifestations. The "positive " stage ofphilosophizing is, therefore, something which never did existand which never will exist. The " positive " method ofphilosophizing is simply an impossibility. The fundamentalprinciple upon which the Positive Philosophy rests is therefusal to affirm that of which the affirmation is the fundamental principle of all knowledge, of all science, and of thatCosmic Philosophy which is the summing up of science.Thus, since Comte's positive stage must be set asidealtogether, and since his metaphysical stage and his theological stage alike end in positing Absolute Existence as thesource of phenomenal existence, this being also the fundamental postulate made by science, the three stages vanishaltogether. As we saw, in our second chapter, that fromlowest to highest the process of knowing is essentially oneand the same, we now see that from beginning to end theprogress ofthat kind of knowledge which we call philosophyis one and the same. There are not three successive orsuperposed processes. There is one continuous process,176 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. I.which (if I may be allowed to invent a rather formidableword in imitation of Coleridge) is best described as a continuous process of deanthropomorphization, or the strippingoff of the anthropomorphic attributes with which primevalphilosophy clothed the unknown Power which is manifestedin phenomena. Or, to be still more accurate, we may describe the process of philosophic evolution as a continuousintegration, in thought, of causal agencies; of which processthe gradual deanthropomorphization of these agencies is thenecessary symptom and result, -until, as the end of theprocess, when all causal agencies have become integrated inthe conception of a single Causal Agency, the tendency toascribe anthropomorphic attributes to this Agency has reachedits minimum.We may now consider this process somewhat more indetail, as it has been concretely exemplified in history. Andin doing this it will become apparent that, in spite of itsvagueness, its inadequacy, and the fundamental error whichvitiates it, the Comtean conception undeniably contained anadumbration of the truth. It recognized the process of deanthropomorphization as historically displayed, though it didnot interpret it psychologically. And in several of its minorstatements, we can have no hesitation in admitting Comte'sgeneralization to be thoroughly valid . It is, for example, ahistorical fact that monotheism was preceded by polytheism ,and that polytheism was preceded by fetishism; as indeed itwas a psychological necessity that it should be so. Nor needwe have any scruples about grouping these various forms ofanthropomorphism under the general title of theology; orabout employing the term " metaphysics " to designate thatimperfect phase of science in which the necessity for verification is not yet recognized, and in which the limits tophilosophic inquiry are as yet undetermined. It was in thissense that the term was defined in our fifth chapter, and itwas in this sense that Newton used it in his famous objur◄CH. VII. ] ANTHROPOMORPHISM AND COSMISM. 177gation, " O, Physics, beware of Metaphysics! " The term ,as thus defined, as well as the term " theology," belongs tothe general vocabulary of modern philosophy; and in usingthe two, we in nowise tacitly commit ourselves to the untenable hypothesis of the " Three Stages," while at the sametime we are thereby enabled the better to sum up the factswhich seemed to Comte to justify his generalization.Premising this, we may proceed to gather our illustrations.of the deanthropomorphizing process. And first let us notethat theology, metaphysics, and science all have their common starting- point in mythology. It is worthy of remarkthat at about the same time when Comte first announced histheory of the primeval origin of philosophy in fetishism, thegreatest of modern scholars, Jacob Grimm, was beginningthose profound inductive researches which ended in demonstrating the fetishistic crigin of myths. The myths of antiquity and of modern savagery constitute philosophy in itsmost primitive form, and embody whatever wisdom fetishismhas to offer as the result of its meditations upon the life ofman and the life of nature. Primitive men, like modernsavages, had no systematic theology; they possessed no symbolic conception of God as an infinite unity; they were astrayamid an endless multitude of unexplained and apparentlyunconnected phenomena, and could therefore form no generalized or abstract notions of divinity. But they wereoppressed with a sensus numinis, a feeling that invisible,powerful agencies were at work around them, who, as theywilled, could help or hurt them." They naturally took it forgranted that all kinds of activity must resemble the onekind with which they were directly acquainted- their ownvolition. Seeing activity, life and motion everywhere, it wasimpossible to avoid the inference that intelligent volitionmust be everywhere. Even after centuries of philosophizing,we can hardly refrain from imagining an anthropomorphiceffort, or isus, as constituting the necessary link between66VOL. I. N178 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY [PT. I. .cause and effect. Yet in our minds, in so far at least as ourovert utterances are concerned, fetishism has been very nearlydestroyed by the long contemplation of the unvarying uniformity ofthe processes of nature. In the mind of the primitive man there were no such checks. The crude inferencehad its own way unopposed; and every action was believedto have its volition behind it. There was a volition for sunrise, and another for sunset; and for the flood of rain and thelightning there was a mighty conflict of volitions, a genuinebattle of manitous, or superior beings, whenever-in mythicphrase the great black shaggy ram, lifting audaciously hismoist fleece against the sky, was slain and annihilated by thegolden, poison-tipped, unerring shafts of Bellerophon.¹Thus we may safely assert, with Comte, that the earliestattitude assumed by the mind in interpreting nature was afetishistic attitude. That chaos which the oldest traditionsand the latest science alike recognize as the .primordial stateof the material universe must also have characterized theinfancy of the human intellect. Until phenomena had beenpartially generalized, they could only have been consideredthe manifestations of arbitrary powers, not only unallied, buteven in conflict with each other. And psychology tells us1 Thus, as I have observed in another work, " a myth is an explanation, bythe uncivilized mind, of some natural phenomenon; not an allegory, not anesoteric symbol, -for the ingenuity is wasted which strives to detect in mythsthe remnants of a refined primeval science, but an explanation. Primitivemen had no profound science to perpetuate by means of allegory, nor werethey such sorry pedants as to talk in riddles when plain language would servetheir purpose. Their minds, we may be sure, worked like our own, andwhen they spoke of the far-darting sun- god, they meant just what they said,save that where we propound a scientific theorem, they constructed a myth.A thing is said to be explained when it is classified with other things withwhich we are already acquainted. That is the only kind of explanation of which the highest science is capable. We explain the origin, progress, andending of a thunder- storm, when we classify the phenomena presented by italong with other more familiar phenomena of vaporization and condensation.But the primitive man explained the same thing to his own satisfaction whenhe had classified it along with the well-known phenomena of human volition.by constructing a theory of a great black dragon pierced by the unerringArrows of a heavenly archer. "-Myths and Myth-Makers, p. 21.SH. VII.] ANTHROPOMORPHISM AND COSMISM. 179that the fetishistic hypothesis was the only possible one, -that these powers must have been supposed to effect theirpurposes by means of volition. As we have seen, all interpretation of phenomena is an interpretation in terms of likeness and unlikeness. We know an object only as this thingor that thing, only as classifiable with this or that otherobject; and the extent of our knowledge may be measuredby the accuracy and exhaustiveness of our classification. Toadopt a familiar expression of Plato, we are ever carryingon a process of dichotomy; or, in the more precise languageof modern psychology, we are continually segregating similarobjects and similar relations of objects into groups, apart fromthose which they do not resemble. If we fail to detect theresemblances which really exist, or if we have imaginedresemblances which do not exist, our interpretation is so farinaccurate and untrustworthy, but not therefore necessarilyuseless. Some theory is needful as a basis for furtherobservation. Wrong classification is the indispensable prelude to right classification. The mind cannot go alone tillit has for awhile groped and stumbled. Nature, the hoarySphinx, sternly propounds a riddle; and many a lucklessguesser gets devoured before an Oidipous arrives with thetrue solution.In the primitive hypothesis, therefore, the forces of naturemust have been likened to human volition, because there wasnothing else with which to compare them. Man felt withinhimself a source of power, and did not yet surmise that powercould have any other source than one like that which heknew. Seeing activity everywhere manifested, and knowingno activity but will, he identified the one with the other;and thus the same mighty power of imagination which now,restrained and guided by scientific methods, leads us to discoveries and inventions, then wildly ran riot in mythologicfictions whereby to explain the phenomena of nature.The advance from this primeval fetishism through poly2180 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Ltheism to monotheism was determined by the gradual attainment of physical knowledge, or, in other words, by thedetoction of certain uniformities in the processes of nature.The discovery of natural laws is the segregation of phenomena into groups according to their relations of likeness andunlikeness, attended bythe disclosure of community of causation for the phenomena constituting each group. After thisprocess has continued for a time, it is perceived that thereare different modes of causation. Phenomena, in the production of which the human will is not implicated, are seento differ from those in which it is concerned, by exhibiting amore conspicuous and readily detected regularity of sequence.Consequently, in considering them, the conception of arbitraryor capricious will is gradually excluded, and is replaced bythe conception of a uniform force, whose actions may beforeseen, and whose effects, if harmful, may be avoided.This having occurred in the case of the more familiar phenomena, the same result eventually follows in the case of thosewhich are more remote. The ultimate phase of this processcharacterized by the complete extrusion of volitional agenciesand the universal substitution of the conception of invariablsequence, becomes possible only after an immense develop.ment of physical science. Volitional agencies, therefore, werenot at once extruded, but were only generalized more andmore, and gradually separated further and further from thephenomena which they were supposed to produce. A greatstep was taken in philosophy when the Titan dynasty wasdethroned, and the celestial and terrestrial provinces ofphenomena partitioned between Zeus and Poseidon. Astill greater step was taken when God, considered as anarbitrary volitional agency, was entirely separated from theuniverse of tolerably uniform sequences, interposing with hiswill only on rare occasions. This is the cruder form of monotheism, and in it the metaphysical mode of thought is veryconspicuous. In place of the innumerable volitional agentsCH. VII.] ANTHROPOMORPHISM AND COSMISM. 181of the older theosophy, we have now innumerable occultavires, inherent virtues, vital principles, essential properties,and abstract entities; at the bottom of all the universaloccult entity Nature, which is regarded as producing phenomena with considerable uniformity, save when the Volition behind sees fit to interpose and temporarily modify the naturalorder. Finally, when physical generalization has advancedso far as to include all, or nearly all, orders of phenomena,the theory of miraculous interposition vanishes, or remainsonly as a lifeless formula, verbally assented to, but not reallybelieved in, while the presiding Volition is thrust back to thebeginning of things, being retained only as a convenient andapparently necessary postulate by which to account for theorigin of the universe and the harmonious cooperation ofphenomena. This most refined form of theology will bethoroughly discussed in a future chapter. We have nowonly to note that further progress in deanthropomorphizationinvolves the extrusion of the notion of a volitional Causealtogether, and leaves us with the conception of a Cause manifested throughout the entire world of phenomena, which is anindestructible element of consciousness, and which, equallywith the anthropomorphic conceptions which have precededit, is the proper object of religious feeling, but concerning thenature of which-in itself, and apart from its phenomenalmanifestations-the human mind can frame no verifiablehypothesis.We have seen that this terminal phase of the deanthropomorphizing process is radically distinct from Positivism, inwhich the Cause manifested in the world of phenomena isentirely ignored. It need hardly be added that it is equallydistinct from Atheism and Pantheism, in which no place isleft for a Cause distinct from phenomena themselves. Howshall we characterize this terminal phase of the long processof philosophic development which we have just passed inrapid survey? An answer will be forthcoming if we pause182 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.[PT. Lto consider the common characteristics of the theologicalphases of thought which, in this terminal phase, are assumedto be outgrown and superseded. Let us premise that theword " Cosmos " is, by virtue of its etymology and of strictscientific usage, the antithetical correlative to the word" Chaos." It denotes the entire phenomenal universe; itconnotes the orderly uniformity of nature, and the negation ofmiracle or extraneous disturbance of any kind. Now it is acommon characteristic of the theologico-metaphysical phasesof philosophy above passed in review, that while they havesought to explain the universe of phenomena, their explanations have been not purely cosmic, but to a greater or less extentanthropomorphic. Instead of restricting themselves to theinterpretation of the uniformities of coexistence and sequencediscovered by science, they have had recourse to unverifiablehypotheses concerning supernatural beings and occult entities,and have thus complicated the conception of the Cosmos withthat of anthropomorphic agencies that are extra- cosmic. Wehave seen that the process of scientific generalization, whichunderlies the evolution of philosophy from epoch to epoch, ischaracterized not by the elimination of these agencies, but bytheir integration into a single Agency, from which the anthropomorphic attributes are stripped, and which is regardedas revealed in and through the Cosmos. Manifestly, then,while it is impossible to define this process as a developmentfrom Anthropomorphism to Positivism, it is on the otherhand strictly accurate and entirely appropriate to define it asa development from Anthropomorphism to Cosmism. I donot know where we could find, for our purpose, a pair ofterms more happily contrasted. For besides the connotations just described, there is also involved in this terminology the recognition of the fact that, at the outset, meninterpreted the Cosmos in terms of human feeling andvolition; while, on the other hand, as the newest result ofscientific generalization, we now find them beginning toCH. VIL.] ANTHROPOMORPHISMANDCOSMISM.183interpret human feeling and volition in terms obtained fromthe objective study of the Cosmos.Let it be noted also, that, along with this group of happycontrasts, there is an equally happy lack of antagonismbetween our pair of terms. For while, on the one hand,all past philosophies have been Cosmic, in so far as theinterpretation of the universe has been their aim; on theother hand, it will never be possible to get entirely rid ofevery trace of Anthropomorphism. For, as was proved inthe fourth chapter, there is anthropomorphism even inspeaking of the unknown Cause as single; and, as has beenproved in the present chapter, there is anthropomorphismeven in speaking of the unknown Cause as a Power manifested in phenomena. Yet we must either use such languageor remain silent; we must either symbolize the unknownCause or ignore it, —and as the latter alternative is impossible, we must accept the former.Thus is exhibited in strong relief the peculiar excellenceboth of our theory of deanthropomorphization, and of theterms in which it is stated. For whereas the AtheisticPhilosophy current in the eighteenth century, sought tobreak entirely with the past, scornfully setting aside itstime-honoured beliefs as so much quackery and delusion;and whereas the Positive Philosophy, in spite of its sympathetic attitude toward the past, consequent upon itsannouncing itself as the terminal phase of a long development, nevertheless was obliged tacitly to break with thepast, in so far as it ignored that which in earlier stages hadalways been taken for granted; on the other hand, theCosmic Philosophy, in announcing itself as the most recentphase of a long development, recognizes no break anywherein the course of that development. While Atheism scoffedat religion, and denied that the religious sentiment neededsatisfaction; while Positivism, leaving no place in its schemefor religion to occupy, was compelled by an afterthought to184 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. 1proclaim that the religious sentiment finds its legitimatesatisfaction in the service of an idealized Humanity;Cosmism, on the contrary, assigns to religion the same placewhich it has always occupied, and affirms that the religioussentiment must find satisfaction in the future, as in the past,in the recognition of a Power which is beyond Humanity,and upon which Humanity depends. The existence of God--denied by Atheism and ignored by Positivism-is thefundamental postulate upon which Cosmism bases its synthesis of scientific truths. The infinite and absolute Power,which Anthropomorphism has in countless ways sought todefine and limit by metaphysical formulas, thereby renderingit finite and relative, is the Power which Cosmism refrainsfrom defining and limiting by metaphysical formulas, therebyacknowledging so far as the exigencies of human speakingand thinking will allow-that it is infinite and absolute.Thus in the progress from Anthropomorphism to Cosmismthe religious attitude remains unchanged from the beginningto the end. And thus the apparent antagonism betweenScience and Religion, which is the abiding terror of timidor superficial minds, and which the Positive Philosophy didcomparatively little to remove, is in the Cosmic Philosophyutterly and for ever swept away.The further elucidation of these views must be postponed.until we come to treat in detail of the relations of science totheism and religion. With this preliminary indication of atheory to be hereafter more fully unfolded, the presentchapter might be brought to a close, were it not that ourconclusions have been elicited through a criticism of thetheory of Comte, and that, at the beginning of our discussion,certain expectations were held out which the close of thediscussion may seem to have belied. Conformity to therequirements of sound criticism demands that somethingmore should be said upon this point.We started in the belief that we were about to trace theCH. VII. ] ANTHROPOMORPHISM AND COSMISM. 185outlines of some grand achievement whereby the claims ofComte to philosophic originality might be vindicated. Weexpressed entire dissent from Prof. Huxley's opinion thatthere is nothing of any value in the Positive Philosophysave that which it has borrowed from Hume. And we wentso far as to assert that Comte's generalization of the historicorder of speculative development inaugurated nothing lessthan a veritable revolution in the attitude of philosophy.Yet we have ended by regarding that generalization aswholly erroneous in one fundamental point, and as more or lessinadequate in nearly all its points. And, more than this, wehave noted that the very weakness of Comte's position consisted in his inability to advance one step in psychologybeyond the point reached by Hume.In spite of all this, however, the essential importance ofthe step taken by Comte is in no way invalidated. It is onething to show that a doctrine is not wholly true; it is quiteanother thing to show that it contains no truth whatever.When Copernicus, for example, asserted that the planetsrevolve about the sun in circular orbits, he made a statementwhich is false; yet it is by virtue of his making this statement that we regard him as the inaugurator of the modernmovement in astronomy. It was false that the planetsrevolve in circular orbits, but it was true that they revolveabout the sun; and this was the part of the statement whichturned men's thoughts into a new channel. Now, while I donot believe that Comte will ever be regarded by posterity as theKepler or the Newton of modern philosophy, it is not at allunlikely that he will be pronounced its Copernicus. Thoughhe was wrong in asserting that in the course of speculativeevolution there are three radically distinct stages, and wrongalso in assuming that the consciousness of Absolute Existence can ever be abolished; he was right in asserting thatthere has been a definite course of speculative evolution, ofwhich deanthropomorphization is an essential feature, and186 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Lwhich must end in the complete rejection of ontology. Andthis though Prof. Huxley has not remarked it—was thepart of his statement which called attention to the fact thata new era in speculation was commencing. I cannot, therefore, unreservedly endorse Mr. Spencer's assertion that Comte,while accepting the doctrine of the relativity ofknowledge andkindred doctrines of modern scientific philosophy, nevertheless did nothing toward placing these doctrines upon a firmerground than they had hitherto occupied. Comte indeed contributed nothing whatever to the psychological justificationor elucidation of these doctrines; yet with his keen historicsense, he did much toward justifying them historically. ToHume's partial demonstration of the relativity of knowledge,Comte added incalculable weight by showing that towardthe assertion of that doctrine tended the enormous momentum of twenty-five centuries of speculative activity. It istrue that he proved this point only by an empirical inductionfrom the facts of history; and it is true that he only halfunderstood and stated incorrectly the doctrine which he thusempirically confirmed. Nevertheless even this incompleteachievement was partly the symptom and partly the causeof a philosophic revolution, the character of which we shallmore fully appreciate when we come in our final chapter tocompare the critical attitude assumed by philosophy in ourage with that which it assumed in the age of Rousseau andthe Encyclopédistes. When we recollect how slow is theeducation of the human race, and how few are they who canserve efficiently as its teachers, we shall be inclined to admitthe justice of the principle that great thinkers should beestimated rather according to what they have accomplishedthan according to what they have failed to accomplish.Historic criticism is at last beginning to learn this importantlesson. And just as we freely admit that in those veryspeculations of Berkeley and Hume and Kant which we nowreject, the point which riveted the attention of their authorsCH. VII.] ANTHROPOMORPHISM AND COSMISM. 187was a valuable truth, though not the truth which they supposed they saw; in like manner we must admit that in thattheory of Comte's which I have here adversely criticized,there was contained a fruitful germ of truth.CHAPTER VIIIORGANIZATION OF THE SCIENCES.THE results obtained in the course of the preceding inquiryhave added depth and precision to our conception of theScope of Philosophy. In coming to look upon all phenomenaas manifestations of a Power unknowable in itself, yet knowable in the order of its phenomenal manifestations, we havevirtually come to declare that the true business of philosophyis the determination of the order of the phenomena in whichthis omnipresent Power is manifested. And thus we arriveby another road at the very same definition of Philosophywhich was previously given; and we see that the progress ofdeanthropomorphization, while leaving the religious attitudeof philosophy entirely unchanged, has at the same time precisely limited its scope in making it the Synthesis of thegeneral truths of science into a system of universal truth.We have next to inquire-as preliminary to the constructionof such a Synthesis-into the manner in which the different,orders of scientific truths are to be grouped for the purposesof our philosophic construction. In short, we are broughtface to face with the problem which also occupied Comtenext in order after the question of deanthropomorphization .we have to deal with the classification of the sciences.Aud, as in the preceding chapter, we shall endeavour, whileCH. VIII. ] ORGANIZATION OF THE SCIENCES. 189adversely criticizing the Comtean theory, to elicit results whichare both true and available for our subsequent inquiries.Comte begins by distinguishing two kinds of naturalsciences; the one kind abstract and general, having for theirobject the discovery of the laws to which the various ordersof phenomena conform, in all conceivable cases; the otherkind concrete, special, descriptive, consisting in the application of general laws to the natural history of the variousobjects actually existing in the present or past. There isnothing difficult, or even novel, in this distinction, since it.corresponds very nearly with that which is ordinarily drawnin scientific treatises between dogmatic physics and naturalhistory. We shall see the difference very clearly by comparing general physiology, on the one hand, with zoologyand botany on the other. The one formulates the generallaws of life, whether considered in equilibrium or in theprocess of development; the other merely enumerates theconditions and mode of existence of each particular speciesof living bodies. Similar is the contrast between chemistryand mineralogy, of which the latter science is evidentlyfounded upon the former. In chemistry we consider allpossible combinations of heterogeneous molecules, in allimaginable circ*mstances; in mineralogy we consider only theparticular combinations which are found realized in the actualpast or present constitution of the terrestrial globe, underthe influence of special sets of conditions. A circ*mstancewhich well illustrates the difference between the chemicaland the mineralogical point of view, although the two sciencesdeal with the same objects, is , that a large proportion of thefacts contemplated in chemistry have only an artificial orexperimental existence. So that, for example, a body likechlorine or potassium may possess great importance inthemistry by reason of the extent and energy of its reactionsand its affinities; while in mineralogy, on the other hand, itmay be of little importance, because it is but seldom con-190 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY [PT. I. .cerned ir producing the natural rearrangements of moleculeswhich it is the business of mineralogy to explain. And conversely, some such compound as granite or feldspar, whichfills a great place in mineralogy, may be of little interestfrom the chemical point of view.Of these two kinds of sciences, according to Comte, manifestly it is the first kind which first needs to be classifiedand systematically studied in its doctrines and methods. Thescientific study of concrete physics presupposes the scientificstudy of abstract physics. For example, the study of thegeologic development of the earth, when prosecuted in themost comprehensive manner, requires not only the previousstudy of physics and chemistry, but also some previousknowledge of astronomy and physiology. And similarly thescientific study of oceanic and atmospheric currents, —which,in the present chaotic state of our nomenclature, we characterize variously as meteorology, or climatology, or includeunder physical geography, —demands a preliminary acquaintance not only with mechanics, chemistry, and all the branchesof molecular physics, but also with astronomy, since climaticrhythms depend upon the inclination of the earth's axis tothe plane of the ecliptic, and more remotely upon the variations in that inclination known as precession and nutation.It is for this reason that concrete physics has made so littleprogress down to the present day, since it could begin to berationally studied only after all the branches of abstract physicshad assumed a distinctively scientific character. While, conversely, as soon as abstract physics has been completelyorganized, the study of concrete physics becomes merely thedetailed application of general principles already established.From these considerations Comte concluded that his PositivePhilosophy might be founded upon a thorough organization ofthe doctrines and methods of the abstract sciences alone. Theproblem first in order was to arrange these sciences in anatural series. The end to be kept in view, in this encyclo-CH. VIII. ] ORGANIZATION OF THE SCIENCES. 191pædic labour, is to arrange the sciences in the order of theirnatural succession and mutual interdependence; so that wemay study and expound them one after the other, withoutever being led into a zigzag or circular course of study andexposition. It should be mentioned here at the outset, thatComte did not regard such an end as strictly attainable, inall its rigorous precision. He tells us expressly that how..ever natural and however logically serviceable such a classification may be, it must always and necessarily containsomething that is arbitrary, or at least artificial, in itsarrangements. This, as he clearly saw, must ever resultfrom the very richness and complexity of Nature, whichrefuses to be analyzed and partitioned off into distinct provinces, save provisionally for convenience of study. In hisIntroduction he reminds us that so few as six fundamentalsciences will admit of seven hundred and twenty differentarrangements; and that in behalf of each of these arrangements very likely something might be said, since even in thevarious classifications already proposed, the same sciencewhich one places at the beginning of the scale is by anotherplaced at the end.¹ Nevertheless there is one series whichis clearly indicated by the decreasing generality and simplicity of the phenomena with which the respective sciencesare concerned. And this is the order which Comte adopts,primarily on account of its logical convenience. He beginswith the most simple and general phenomena, to proceedstep by step to those which are most complex and special.Proceeding upon this principle, we are confronted at onceby two grand divisions of phenomena, inorganic and organic.There is no difficulty in deciding which of these to studyfirst. The more general and simple phenomena of weight,heat, light, electricity, and chemism, are manifested alike by1 Later in life Comte, no doubt, came to look upon his classification as complete and final. And so it appears to be regarded by his disciples, wheare deaf to all the considerations which impeach it198 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY [PT. 1. .not-living and by living bodies; whereas the more specialand complex phenomena of life are manifested, of course,only by the latter. Therefore the science of inorganic phenomena must precede the other. We can study thermal radiations and chemical reactions without taking vital forces intothe account; but we cannot study living organisms withoutappealing to physics and chemistry at every step.In the science of inorganic phenomena a somewhat lessobvious principle of division next presents itself. Inorganicphysics may be divided into celestial and terrestrial physics;of which the first treats only of gravitative force as manifested in the relatively simple phenomena of the mutualattractions of the heavenly bodies; while the second treatsnot only of gravitative force as manifested throughout relatively complex terrestrial phenomena, but also of the molecular forces, cohesion and chemism, and of the modes ofundulatory motion called sound, heat, light, magnetism, andelectricity. This second division may be again subdividedinto physics proper and chemistry. The first treats of thosechanges in which the relative positions of the molecules ofmatter are altered hom*ogeneously, resulting in increase ordecrease of volume, or other change of physical state; whilethe second treats of those changes in which the relativepositions of molecules are altered heterogeneously, resultingin the production of new compounds and new affinities. Ofthese two sciences, manifestly physics should be first studied.We can to a certain extent generalize the laws of reflectionand refraction, condensation and rarefaction, without helpfrom chemistry; but we cannot proceed a step in chemistrywithout appealing to physics.Turning now to organic phenomena, we perceive thatliving beings may be studied either individually or collectively. In the first case we generalize the laws of nutrition and reproduction, of muscular contractility and nervoussensibility. This is the province of biology, a science whichOH VIII.] ORGANIZATION OF THE SCIENCES. 193according to Comte, is of itself competent to include all thephenomena presented by vegetables and by the loweranimals, as well as all those presented by individual man.But in the case of man, the aggregation of individuals givesrise to an entirely new class of phenomena produced by thereaction of individuals upon each other. To generalize thelaws of this class of phenomena is the business of sociology,which is thus manifestly the most complex and special ofthe sciences.According to Comte, this disposes of all the fundamentalabstract sciences, except mathematics. This science heplaces first of all, the phenomena of number and form beinguniversal, and capable of generalization without referenceto other phenomena.Thus we have the hierarchy of the positive sciencesarranged in the following order:-I. Mathematics.II. Astronomy.III. Physics.IV. Chemistry.V. Biology.VI. Sociology.In each of these sciences, there are several subdivisionswhich Comte endeavours to arrange, wherever it is possible,according to the same general principle of convenience. Inmathematics, he places algebra before geometry, on theground that we can study number by itself, but in order tostudy form we must make use of sundry laws of number;and for a similar reason, mechanics, which involves time andmotion, is placed subsequent to the other two. In physics,barology, or the general doctrine of weight and pressure, isplaced first, as nearest akin to astronomy; and electrology isplaced last, as nearest akin to chemistry. The intermediatebranches, acoustics, optics, and thermology, would now beranked in the order in which I have named them; butVOL. I.194 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. LComte ranked thermology first, probably because of theenthusiasm aroused in him by his friend Fourier's achievement in bringing the general doctrine of thermal expansionand contraction so thoroughly under. the sway of mathematical analysis. In biology, anatomy, or the study ofstructure, is placed before physiology, or the study of function; and the study of the vegetal or nutritive functionsprecedes that of the animal or nervo-muscular functions.In sociology, the study of equilibrium, or the conditions.essential to order, is ranked before the study of the laws ofprogress as generalized from history.¹2It will be observed that in this scheme no special place isassigned to psychology. This is an omission quite in keeping with Comte's general conception of the scope of philosophic inquiry, from which the observation and analysis ofstates of consciousness are purposely omitted altogether. Thisomission will best be criticized and characterized later on,when in the course of our philosophic synthesis we shallhave arrived at the discussion of the relations of the phenomena of mind to the phenomena of life. Meanwhile,merely noting this serious omission, we may observe thatthe classification just sketched is so fascinating in its simplicity, and so manifestly convenient for many practicalpurposes of research, that at first it seems almost a pity forcriticism to invalidate it. Its leading features appear to speakfor themselves, to carry their own recommendation with them,to characterize this classification as the best which, with ourpresent resources, it is possible to frame. And, indeed, if wecompare it with some of the most ambitious preceding classifications , such as those of Oken and Hegel; or even with1 In a future chapter, it will appear that the proper arrangement is just the reverse of this, no sound theory of social equilibrium being attainable until the laws of progress have been generalized from history, with the aid obiology and psychology. Here, as in many other cases, Comte's error was due to his imperfect comprehension of the principle of Evolution.2 See below, part ii. chap. xiv.CH. VIII.] ORGANIZATION OF THE SCIENCES. 195the less pretentious but more useful systems of D'Alembert,Stewart, Ampère, Geoffroy St. Hilaire, and Cournot; itssuperiority is at once apparent. The arrangement seems sonatural and obvious that it has not unfrequently been characterized by able critics as " just the sort of classificationthat would naturally arise in any reflecting mind on a reviewof the subject. " We should not forget, however, that itnever had arisen in any of the reflecting minds which reviewed the subject previous to Comte.But Comte, who viewed everything in a historical light,intended that his classification should be something morethan a convenient plan for arriving at philosophic generalitythrough the study of the separate abstract sciences. Heregarded it also as a kind of philosophic tableau or conspectus of the progress of the human mind from anthropomorphic toward scientific conceptions of natural phenomena.According to him, the order in which he arranged thesciences was the order in which they had respectively beenconstituted as sciences, -in which they had passed from thetheological or metaphysical into the scientific stage. Thusmathematics, he tells us, has been a science, in the strict senseof the word, from time immemorial; but he omits to tell usthat pure mathematics, dealing solely with number and form,and not involving conceptions of force, could never havebeen in the theological stage. It was only the phenomenaof force which to primitive men must have seemed to requirean anthropomorphic explanation. The action of the humanwill, by the analogy of which external events were explained,may be a mechanical, but it is not a geometrical or algebraicphenomenon. When we come to mechanics, there is room toconstruct volitional explanations. Nevertheless in mechanicsthere are so few traces of such explanations, since the dawnof history, that Comte thinks it may have always been apositive science; and he quotes approvingly Adam Smith'sremark that nowhere do we ever hear of a god of Weighto 2196 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [FT. LSuch a god, however, had there ever been one, would havebeen a generalized deity, belonging to a comparativelyadvanced system of polytheism; and though we are entitledto infer from this that the earliest generalization of thephenomena of weight was a scientific and not a theologicalgeneralization, we are not entitled to infer that in theprimeval fetishistic period, before the phenomena had beengeneralized at all, they were not supposed to be due to volition. It is one of the unfortunate results of Comte's useof the term "theological," to characterize this primitivephilosophy, that we are apt to think it necessary to seekfor signs of a deity when examining the so- called theologicepoch. The idea of a god distinct from the phenomenonwas, however, a polytheistic, not a fetishistic idea: it wasthe result of much abstraction and generalization. Fetishism endowed the particular object itself with volition.And, such being the case, I am inclined to believe thatmany even of the simplest mechanical phenomena may havebeen originally explained as due to the free will of theobjects concerned. However this may be, there can be nodoubt that mechanical conceptions ceased to be anthropomorphic at a very early date, and that statics, one branchof mechanics, is the oldest of the sciences, outside of puremathematics.If now we consider the three great branches of inorganicphysics, we find abundant records of a time when theheavenly bodies were supposed to be intelligent creatures,and were worshipped as such. Even in the enlightened ageof Perikles, and in the most advanced community thenexisting, Anaxagoras came near losing his life for assertingthat the moon was a mass of rocks and not a goddess. Longafter monotheism had overthrown these crude interpretations,the planets were still supposed to be the abode of controlling1 See Myths and Myth-Makers, chap. vii. , " The Primeval Ghost World.CH. VIII. ]ORGANIZATION OF THE SCIENCES. 197archangels. Even Kepler himself, early in the seventeenthcentury, was inclined to countenance this opinion, as may beseen from a remarkable passage in his " Harmonices Mundi "(p. 252). It was not until Newton that dynamical astronomybecame a positive science. Similarly with the phenomena ofterrestrial physics. The electric phenomena of storms, thethermal phenomena of congelation, the optical phenomena ofthe rainbow and the mirage, have, within the period knownto history, been explained anthropomorphically; and, as lateas the time of Cardan, echoes were by the unlearned interpreted as the voices of mocking demons, and ignes fatui wereregarded as malign spirits inhabiting marshes. While inchemistry, both the Arabian alchemists and their Europeansuccessors, in manipulating some of the more powerful reagents, and especially in the use of explosive or highly combustible materials, believed themselves to be forcing unwillingsupernatural agents to execute their purposes. Probably thename " spirits," as employed in modern pharmacy, has hadsome such anthropomorphic origin.Inorganic physics has by this time become almost entirelyfree from anthropomorphic conceptions. In the scienceswhich deal with organic phenomena, however, purely scientificconceptions do not yet reign supreme. Biology and sociologyare still infected with metaphysical, and even to a certainextent with theological, notions. In biology, for instance, wehave the anthropomorphic conception of an archæus or vitalprinciple, distinct from the organism, and controlling itsmolecular processes. Though such a theory would not, atthe present day, be defended by any authoritative writer uponthis subject, it is nevertheless vaguely present in the popularmind, and exerts a clandestine influence even upon scientificepeculations. The metaphysical doctrine of stimulus, so ablycriticized by Dr. Anstie in his treatise on " Stimulants andNarcotics," the doctrine that stimulus is, not an increase inthe rate of nutrition of the nerves, but a goading of the198 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. L.organisın, sure to be followed by a depressive reaction,-isfounded mainly upon this antiquated à priori conception ofa vital principle. To take another instance, colds, fevers,and other diseases are commonly spoken of as entities which"get into the system," and are to be driven out; and imperfectly educated physicians are often heard reasoning uponthis mythological assumption; whereas a disease of any kind,scientifically considered, is not an entity, but a disturbanceof equilibrium among the interacting functions of theorganism. A cancer, for instance, is a modification of structure resulting from a disturbance in the general processof nutrition. Molecules which should normally be depositedhere and there throughout the various tissues begin to aggregate over a single limited area, forming a new abnormaltissue, of low vitality; and this new tissue grows at theexpense of the organism until death ensues from exhaustion,or, if the wall of a large bloodvessel happens to get encroached upon and disintegrated, death ensues from hemorrhage. So an ordinary fever, in which blood -poisoning doesnot occur, is the result of an ill-understood alteration in themolecular properties of the blood, one of the chief symptomsof which is the adherence of the blood - corpuscles to the wallsof the capillaries. Yet so prevalent still is the personifyinghabit of thought, that cancers and fevers are spoken of andreasoned about as occult entities, as ugly Things which somehow or other " get into " the blood.It is hardly necessary to insist upon the prevalence of themetaphysical habit in sociology, where final causes are stillsought after, where the doctrine of the " freedom of the will "(or, as it might better be termed, of the " lawlessness of volition ") still maintains a precarious footing, and where practical conclusions are constantly based upon the à prioridoctrine of inherent " rights." Here, too, as well as inbiology, even the theological point of view not unfrequentlyappears. The late war between France and Germany wasCH. VIII. ] ORGANIZATION OF THE SCIENCES. 199doubtless the occasion of many prayers to the " God ofBattles." The same persons who, in the regular recurrenceof the seasons, in the expansion of heated bodies, in theexplosion of fulminating compounds, in the darkness causedby an eclipse, in short throughout the entire realm of inorganic phenomena, see nothing but the operations of uniformforces, nevertheless explain diseases, famines, and politicalrevolutions, upon the hypothesis of an overruling Providenceextraneous to the Cosmos; announcing, perhaps, the doctrineof a divine judgment upon sin, -which is indeed not afiction, but the mythologic version of a scientific truth.Not only (according to Comte) has deanthropomorphizationproceeded more rapidly in the simpler sciences than in themore complex ones, but the generalization of causal agencies,of which deanthropomorphization is the result, took placeearlier in the former than in the latter. This is to be seen bycomparing the dates at which the sciences respectively ceasedto be mere aggregations of empirical knowledge, and becamefounded as sciences, in the strict sense of the word. Thusastronomy, at least in its statical department, was a science inthe days of Hipparchos. Physics became a science whenGalileo discovered the law of falling bodies. Chemistrybecame a science, about a hundred and seventy years later,when Lavoisier overthrew the doctrine of phlogiston, andletected the true principles of combustion. Biology didnot become a science until the very end of the eighteenthcentury, when Bichat pointed out the relations between thefunctions of organs and the properties of tissues. Finallysociology has hardly yet become a science; and manyeducated persons still regard historical events as happeningin no determinate sequence, and stigmatize, as not onlychimerical but even impious, any attempt to formulate theorder of such events.Here it becomes desirable to pass from simple expositionto criticism. In the Comtean views above set forth we must200 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. L.of course recognize a large amount of historic truth. Therecan be no doubt that anthropomorphic conceptions soonestdisappear from those departments of science which are earliestconstituted and most rapidly developed. Nor can there beany doubt that in a vague and general way the Comteanarrangement represents, or at any rate suggests, the historicorder of progression. No doubt mathematics is the oldest ofthe sciences-as indeed its name curiously hints to us-andsociology the youngest. No doubt the movements of masses,of which astronomy and physics treat, were correctly formulated sooner than the combinations of heterogeneous molecules, which form the subject-matter of chemistry. And nodoubt the science of inorganic phenomena as a whole is morecomplete than the science of organic phenomena. All thismust be admitted. Yet if we examine more closely into thematter, we shall discover grave errors in this classificationwhich looked so fair to us on a cursory inspection. We shallnotice first that in many points of fundamental importanceit does not faithfully represent the order of historic progression; and when we come to inquire into the reason of thisfailure, we shall find that the classification errs from itsvery simplicity, that the facts to be arranged are too complex and heterogeneous to admit of any such facile lineararrangement.In the first place the historical relations between astronomyand physics have been mis-stated by Comte, and he hasmarked out the province of physics after a fashion that is, atthe present day, completely indefensible. To class togetherthe science which treats of weight and pressure, and thesciences which treat of light, heat, and electricity, and torefer to the whole under the general appellation of Physics,is to prepare the way for statements which are too general tobe accurate. In contrasting physics with astronomy, how.ever, Comte is careful to let us know that he intends tcdesignate that physics which deals with the phenomena ơCH. VIII.] ORGANIZATION OF THE SCIENCES. 201moving masses; for he tells us that while astronomy hasbeen a science since the time of Hipparchos, physics firstbecame a science in the days of Galileo. The slightest consideration will show us that this apparent confirmation ofComte's views rests upon a verbal ambiguity. For what portion of astronomical phenomena had been generalized as earlyas the time of Hipparchos? Simply the statical or geometrical portion, namely, the apparent motions of the planets,the great achievement of Hipparchos having been the construction of the theory of epicycles and eccentrics, wherebyto formulate these motions. It is needless to add that all thegeometrical data used in making this generalization had beenobtained from the previous observation of terrestrial phenomena. And what portion of physics was it which was notgeneralized till the time of Galileo? It was the dynamicalportion, since statics had been erected into a science byArchimedes, who lived just a century before Hipparchos.By comparing the statical part of astronomy with the dynamical part of physics, Comte finds it quite easy to establishthe precedence of the former. Unfortunately, such precedence is not what the argument requires, though it is allthat can be established. If we compare like orders of phenomena, we shall see at once that it was physics which preceded astronomy. Dynamical astronomy became a scienceonly with the discovery of the law of gravitation; and thislaw was not discovered, nor could it have been discovered,until after the leading generalizations of terrestrial dynamicshad been established. For, as Mr. Spencer observes, " Whatwere the laws made use of by Newton in working out hisgrand aiscovery? The law of falling bodies, disclosed byGalileo; that of the composition of forces, also disclosed byGalileo; and that of centrifugal force, found out by Huyghens-all of them generalizations of terrestrial physics..Had M. Comte confined his attention to the things and disregarded the words, he would have seen that before mankind•202 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Iscientifically coordinated any one class of phenomena displayed in the heavens, they had previously coordinated aparallel class of phenomena displayed upon the surface of theearth."1This criticism is a very incisive one. It destroys this partof Comte's classification not only from the historical, butalso from the logical point of view. It shows that the studyof astronomy depends upon that of terrestrial physics, andshould therefore come after, and not before it. In fact thewhole science of astronomy, as at present constituted, consists of two portions, the theory of gravitation and thetheory of nebular evolution. The first of these, as we havejust seen, is a mere extension to celestial phenomena of certain laws of terrestrial physics. The second depends uponthe study of terrestrial phenomena in a yet greater degree,since it involves the knowledge not only of gravitation, butalso of radiant heat, and of the conditions of equilibrium ofgases and liquids.²If now we coinpare physics with chemistry, we shall finda similar ambiguity in Comte's results. It is easy to saythat chemistry was not organized into a science until towardthe close of the eighteenth century, while physics wasorganized at the beginning of the seventeenth: but what dowe now mean by physics? If we mean merely the sciencewhich generalizes the phenomena of weight, our propositionis indisputable; but unfortunately it is of little use insupporting the Comtean classification. For Comte, as wehave seen, includes under the general head of physics, notSpencer's Essays, 1st series, p. 179.. I leave this as it stood five years ago, when this chapter was writter.The numerous and wonderful disclosures of spectrum-analysis, not only giving us unlooked-for information concerning the physical constitution of the stars,but even throwing new light on their movements, make it desirable, perhaps to enlarge the scope assigned to astronomy in the text. But such a modifica tion of the form of statement would show only the more forcibly how closely the study of astronomy depends on the study of terrestrial phenomena. Thegreatest step recently taken in science is thus an additional argument againstThe validity of Comte's conception.SH. VIIL.]ORGANIZATION OF THE SCIENCES. 800only the science of weight, but also the sciences of heat,light, clectricity and magnetism, to say nothing of sound. Itwas incumbent on Comte to show that this whole group ofphenomena became scientifically coordinated at an earlierdate than the phenomena of chemical composition anddecomposition. This, however, it would have been impossible to show. Electric phenomena, the most backward ofthe group, were not scientifically coordinated until theclose of the last century, when Coulomb generalized the lawsof electric equilibrium. Strictly speaking, there was nogeneral science of Physics even when Comte wrote the"Philosophie Positive; " and in linking together the allieddepartments of optics, thermology, acoustics and electrology,he made up what was then an incongruous group, aboutwhich it was unsafe to make general statements. In 1842-the year in which Comte's work was finished-Mr. Grove, byshowing that the different allied manifestations of physicalforce are modes of motion which are convertible into eachother, laid the foundations of a general science of MolecularPhysics, regarded as a science of vibrations. And in 1843Mr. Joule, by discovering the mechanical equivalent of heat,gave to the new science a quantitative character. Thesewere the great epoch-making steps, like the steps taken byNewton in astronomy, which founded the science.It is thus evident that Comte was far from successful inthis part of his classification; and considering the state ofcience forty years ago, it appears impossible that he shouldLave succeeded. He united phenomena which shouldhave been kept separate, and separated phenomena whichshould have been united. We are now in a position to seethat Comies grand division of inorganic science must besubdivided into Molar Physics, which treats of the movements of masses; Molecular Physics, which treats of themovements of molecules and of the laws of aggregation ofhom*ogenous molecules; and Chemistry, which treats of the204 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [P1.Ilaws of aggregation of heterogeneous molecules. And wesee, moreover, that astronomy is merely the application ofthe principles of molar physics (and, in its latest researches,of molecular physics and chemistry also) to the study of aspecial class of concrete phenomena. Such is the logicalarrangement; and the only historical parallelism to be foundis the fact that theorems relating to masses were reachedsooner than theorems relating to molecules.It would not be difficult to cite other instances in whichthe Comtean classification is at variance not only with theorder of the phenomena classified but also with the order ofhistoric progression. But I prefer to quote from Mr. Spencera remarkable passage which strikes immediately at the vitalpoint of the theory. Comte's fundamental error was in notrecognizing " the constant effect of progress in each classupon all other classes; but only on the class succeeding itin his hierarchical scale. He leaves the impression that, withtrifling exceptions, the sciences aid each other only in theorder of their alleged succession. But in fact there has beena continuous helping of each division by all the others, andof all by each. Every particular class of inquirers has, as itwere, secreted its own particular order of truths from thegeneral mass of material which observation accumulates;and all other classes of inquirers have made use of thesetruths as fast as they were elaborated, with the effect ofenabling them the better to elaborate each its own order oftruths. It was thus with the application of Huyghens'soptical discovery to astronomical observation by Galileo. Itwas thus with the application of the isochronism of thependulum to the making of instruments for the measuring ofintervals, astronomical and other. It was thus when thediscovery that the refraction and dispersion of light did notfollow the same law of variation, affected both astronomy andphysiology by giving us achromatic telescopes and microcopes. It was thus when Bradley's discovery of the aberraCH. VII .] ORGANIZATION OF THE SCIENCES. 205tion of light enabled him to make the first step towardsascertaining the motions of the stars. It was thus whenCavendish's torsion-balance experiment determined the specificgravity of the earth, and so gave a datum for calculating thespecific gravities of the sun and planets. It was thus whentables of atmospheric refraction enabled observers to writedown the real places of the heavenly bodies instead of theirapparent places. It was thus when the discovery of thedifferent expansibilities of metals by heat, gave us the means.of correcting our chronometrical measurements of astronomicalperiods. It was thus when the lines of the prismaticspectrum were used to distinguish the heavenly bodies thatare of like nature with the sun from those which are not. Itwas thus when, as recently, an electro - telegraphic instrumentwas invented for the more accurate registration of meridionaltransits. It was thus when the difference in the rates of aclock at the equator and nearer the poles, gave data forcalculating the oblateness of the earth, and accounting forthe precession of the equinoxes. It was thus-but it isneedless to continue. We have already named ten cases inwhich the single science of astronomy has owed its advanceto sciences coming after it in Comte's series. Not only itssecondary steps, but its greatest revolutions have been thusdetermined. Kepler could not have discovered his celebratedlaws, had it not been for Tycho Brahe's accurate observations;and it was only after some progress in physical and chemicalscience that the improved instruments with which thoseobservations were made, became possible. The heliocentrictheory of the solar system had to wait until the invention ofthe telescope before it could be finally established. Nay,even the grand discovery of all-the law of gravitation—depended for its proof upon an operation of physical science,the measurement of a degree upon the earth's surface. Nowthis constant intercommunion, here illustrated in the case ofone science only, has been taking place with all the sciences206 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. L•• ·Let us look at a few cases. The theoretic law of thevelocity of sound, enunciated by Newton on purely mechanical considerations, was found wrong by one- sixth. Theerror remained unaccounted for until the time of Laplace,who, suspecting that the heat disengaged by the compressionof the undulating strata of the air, gave additional elasticityand so produced the difference, made the needful calculationsand found he was right. Thus acoustics was arrested untilthermology overtook and aided it. When Boyle and Mariottehad discovered the relation between the density of gases andthe pressures they are subject to; and when it thus becamepossible to calculate the rate of decreasing density in theupper parts of the atmosphere; it also became possible tomake approximate tables of the atmospheric refraction oflight. Thus optics, and with it astronomy, advanced withbarology When Fourier had determined the laws ofconduction of heat, and when the earth's temperature hadbeen found to increase below the surface one degree in everyforty yards, there were data for inferring the past conditionof our globe; the vast period it has taken it to cool down toits present state; and the immense age of the solar system-a purely astronomical consideration. Chemistry havingadvanced sufficiently to supply the needful materials, and aphysiological experiment having furnished the requisite hint,there came the discovery of galvanic electricity. Galvanismreacting on chemistry disclosed the metallic bases of thealkalies, and inaugurated the electro- chemical theory; in thehands of Oersted and Ampère it led to the laws of magneticaction; and by its aid Faraday detected significant factsrelative to the constitution of light. Brewster's discoveriesrespecting double refraction and dipolarization proved theessential truth of the classification of crystalline formsaccording to the number of axes, by showing that themolecular constitution depends upon the axes. In these, andin numerous other cases, the mutual influence of the sciences

1. H. VIII.] ORGANIZATION OF THE SCIENCES. 207

has been quite independent of any supposed hierarchicalorder. Often, too, their interactions are more complex than as thus instanced-involve more sciences than two ... Socomplete in recent days has become this consensus among thesciences, caused either by the natural entanglement of theirphenomena, or by analogies in the relations of theirphenomena, that scarcely any considerable discovery concerning one order of facts now takes place without veryshortly leading to discoveries concerning other orders. "1Mr. Spencer goes on to describe the infinitely complexmanner in which the various sciences act upon the advancement of the arts, and are reacted upon by that advancement.He enumerates the vast multitude of arts, involving theknowledge of many distinct sciences, which enter into theeconomical production of such an apparently simple articleas a child's calico frock. He shows that the various sciencesby turns stand in the relation of arts to each other; and thatoften the mere process of observation in any one sciencerequires the aid of half a dozen other sciences. But it isneedless for me to go on quoting from an essay which iseasily accessible, and which should be read from beginningto end by everyone who wishes to understand the truecharacter of scientific progress. I prefer to add an illustration or two, suggested by the progress of science during thenineteen years that have elapsed since that essay waspublished; and to observe how Kirchhoff's discoveries inpectrum-analysis-rendered possible only through a greatadvance in chemical knowledge have reacted uponastronomy, enabling Mr. Huggins to determine the propermotion of Sirius, and consequently, by putting it in ourpower to ascertain the motions of all those stars which,moving directly towards or away from us, yield no parallax,have laid the foundations for a general theory of siderealdynamics, to be further elaborated in the future. Or to take1 Spencer's Essays, 1st series, pp. 181-183, 214, 215.208 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [Fr. La still more striking instance, let us remember how AdamSmith's elucidation of the principle of " division of labour,"in sociology, suggested to Goethe the conception of a " divisionof labour ” in biology, and thus heralded Von Baer's magnificent discovery that organic development is a progressivechange from hom*ogeneity to heterogeneity of structure. Andlet us note how this discovery in biology has lately reactedupon all preceding departments of investigation, strengtheningthe nebular theory in astronomy and the theory of the progressionists in geology; and thus ultimately reacting uponour philosophy by giving us, for the first time, a scientificdoctrine of the evolution of the physical universe.Enough has been alleged to prove that the Comtean viewof the progress of science fails to account for more than alimited portion of the facts of that progress. Instead of thesciences aiding each other, with few and unimportant exceptions, only in the hierarchical order in which Comte hasplaced them, we perceive that they have continually beenaiding each other in all directions at once. The morecomplex sciences have all along been assisting the simplerones, and these have often been delayed in their progress forwant of the assistance which the former have ultimatelyfurnished. There has, therefore, been no such thing as aprogressive evolution of the sciences in a linear order; butthere has been a consentaneous evolution, in which theadvance of each science has been a necessary condition ofthe advance of all the others.It thus appears that Comte unduly simplified the problem.His classification well enough expresses the order of development of the sciences, in so far as their development hasdepended merely on the relative simplicity or complexity ofthe phenomena with which they have had to deal. It restsupon the assumption that, with few and unimportant exceptions, the progress of generalization has been from thesimple to the complex. Now this is not the case. TheCH. VIII. ]ORGANIZATION OF THE SCIENCES. 209progress of generalization has indeed been partly determinedby the relative simplicity or complexity of the phenomenato be generalized (and this fact accounts for the considerableamount of truth which the Comtean doctrine contains); butit has been also determined by several other circ*mstances.In the chapter on " Laws in General " to be found in thefirst edition of " First Principles," but omitted in the revisededition, Mr. Spencer has called attention to some of thesecirc*mstances. He reminds us that not only are phenomenaearly generalized in proportion as they are simple, but also inproportion as they are conspicuous or obtrusive. " Hence ithappened that after the establishment of those very manifestsequences constituting a lunation, and those less manifestones marking a year, and those still less manifest onesmarking the planetary periods, astronomy occupied itselfwith such inconspicuous sequences as those displayed in therepeating cycle of lunar eclipses, and those which suggestedthe theory of epicycles and eccentrics; while modern astronomy deals with still more inconspicuous sequences, someof which, as the planetary rotations, are nevertheless thesimplest which the heavens present. " The solution of theproblem of specific gravity by Archimedes, and the discoveryof atmospheric pressure, nearly nineteen hundred years later,by Torricelli, involved mechanical relations of exactly thesame kind; but the connection between antecedent and consequent was much more conspicuous in the former case thanin the latter. The effect produced by the air in decomposingsoil is a phenomenon just as simple as the rusting of iron orthe burning of wood; but it is far less conspicuous, andaccordingly chemistry generalized the one long before theother. Finally, if, remembering the enormous advance inscience due to the telescope and microscope, and bearing inmind the equally astonishing results which are likely toarise from the use of the lately-invented spectroscope, we askwhat is the character of the service rendered us by theseVOL. I P210 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.[PT. 1.instruments; the reply is that they enable us to generalizephenomena which before were too inconspicuous to begeneralized.Again, other things equal, phenomena that are frequenthave been scientifically explained sooner than unusual phenomena. "Rainbows and comets do not differ greatly inconspicuousness, and a rainbow is intrinsically the moreinvolved phenomenon; but chiefly because of their fargreater commonness, rainbows were perceived to have adirect dependence on sun and rain while yet comets wereregarded as supernatural appearances."In like manner the more concrete relations have beenformulated before those that are more abstract. If we wereto adhere rigorously to Comte's principle of decreasinggenerality, we should have to place the infinitesimal calculusbefore algebra, and algebra before arithmetic. But the orderof development has been just the reverse, from arithmetic,the least abstract department, to calculus, the most abstract.Lastly I would suggest a circ*mstance, not mentioned byMr. Spencer, namely that, other things equal, the sciencesmust advance according to the ratio between the complexityof the phenomena with which they deal and the multiplicityof our means for investigating those phenomena. I shallpresently describe our three chief implements for extortingthe secrets of Nature-observation, experiment and comparison; showing that in general, as phenomena becomemore and more complicated , our ability to make use of theseimplements increases. In astronomy we have only observation to help us; but astronomic phenomena are comparativelysimple, so that here we have a highly-developed science. Inbiology we can use all three implements; and so, in spite ofthe complexity of vital phenomena, we have here a tolerablywell- organized science. But in meteorology, we have to dealwith very complex phenomena, and still have no resourcesave in steadfast observation. Hence meteorology is still aCH. VIII. ] ORGANIZATION OF THE SCIENCES. 211very backward science, more backward even than sociology,of which the phenomena are far more complex.According to Mr. Spencer, phenomena are also generalizedearly in proportion as they directly affect human welfare.But this circ*mstance would appear to have far less potencythan the others above enumerated. There is, of course, nodoubt that men will earliest study those subjects which mostobviously concern them; but whether their study will befruitful or not depends, as it seems to me, upon the otherfactors in the case, above enumerated. I doubt if there isany instance in which this factor has actually overruled theother factors, as these have continually overruled each other.Sociology is the science which, more than all others, wouldseem to have direct practical bearings upon human welfare;yet, although men have studied social phenomena since thedays of Plato, they have but lately arrived at any scientificgeneralizations concerning them. The daily changes ofweather are more obviously concerned with human intereststhan the geological succession of extinct animals and vegetables; yet our scientific knowledge of palæontology, thoughunsatisfactory enough, is yet far more advanced than ourscientific knowledge of meteorology. No doubt men willsoonest endeavour to understand the phenomena which mostintimately concern them; but the order in which they willcome to understand them will depend upon the simplicity,the concreteness, the conspicuousness, and the frequency ofthe phenomena, and upon the number and perfection of theimplements of investigation which are at command. Indeed,from one point of view, it may be urged that direct complicity with human interests is often a hindrance to thescientific investigation of phenomena. Doubtless the disinterested calmness with which remote mathematical andphysical inquiries are prosecuted is one secret of theirsuccess. As Hobbes remarked, with keen sarcasm, "eventhe axioms of geometry would be disputed if men's passionsP 2212 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Iwere concerned with them." And does not daily experienceteach us the difficulty of getting our legislators to acceptthe simplest and most completely established principles ofpolitical economy?Thus there are at least five separate factors determiningthe order and rate at which knowledge progresses; and it isthe interaction of these factors which has made the actualorder of scientific development too complex to be embracedin any linear formula, like that proposed by Comte. It isbecause it recognizes only one of these factors that theComtean classification fails to represent the historic order inits true complexity. It makes a straight line where it oughtto make a system of inosculating spirals.Returning now from the historical to the logical point ofview, we have to note a still more fundamental error in theComtean classification. That classification rests primarilyupon the distinction, above explained, between the abstractand the concrete sciences. That there is such a distinctioncannot be questioned; but it will not be difficult to showthat Comte has made the division incorrectly. When Comtecontrasts chemistry with mineralogy, because the oneformulates the abstract laws of the aggregation of heterogeneous molecules, while the other applies these laws toconcrete instances actually realized in nature, under theinfluence of particular sets of conditions, -the distinctionmust be admitted as valid. But when he similarly contrastsbiology with zoology and botany, because the one formulatesthe general laws of life, while the others merely study theconditions of existence of particular genera and species,the distinction cannot be admitted as valid. In so far aszoology and botany are restricted to the mere description andenumeration of organic forms, they cannot strictly be calledsciences at all, but only branches of natural history. In sofar as they are anything more than this, they are a constituent part of biology. For in biology, it is the study of theBH. VIII.] ORGANIZATION OF THE SCIENCES. 213concrete conditions of existence of living organisms whichlies at the bottom of the whole. The laws of nutrition,reproduction and innervation are not abstract laws, considered apart from the conditions in which they are realized,like the law of inertia . in physics, or the law of definiteproportions in chemistry. They are realized in each concreteinstance just as much as certain chemical and physical lawsare realized in each concrete instance of mineralogy. Or, inother words, the laws of biology are derivative uniformities,while the laws of physics and chemistry are original uniformities. Given the general laws of molecular combinationand decombination, and given also a certain definite organization placed in a given environment, and the laws of nutrition,reproduction and innervation follow. Take away the definiteorganization, and you have nothing left but the laws ofmolecular rearrangement, which are the subjects of physicsand chemistry. This is not identifying biology with physicsand chemistry. The fact of organization remains, by thestudy of which biology is an independent science. But it isa concrete science, since it can study organization only asactually exemplified in particular organisms. The same istrue of sociology, which is simply an extension of theprinciples of biology and psychology to the complexphenomena furnished by the mutual reactions of intelligentorganisms upon each other. There is no abstract science ofsociology which leaves out of sight the special complicationsarising from the interaction of concrete, actually- existingcommunities. Any such abstract science is a mere figmentof the imagination, born of Comte's excessive passion forsystematizing. The science of sociology is the generalizationof the concrete phenomena of society, as recorded in history;and, in the widest sense, the laws of sociology are the lawsof history. And, travelling back to the other end of theBeries, a similar criticism must be made upon astronomy.This science is an application of molar physics (and latterly,214 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Lin some degree, of molecular physics and chemistry) to theconcrete phenomena presented by the heavenly bodies. Theuniversal law of gravitation is indeed an abstract law;it formulates a property of bodies. But it holds good ofterrestrial as well as of celestial phenomena: and its application to either class of phenomena, in their actual complications, constitutes a concrete science.These are the considerations which irretrievably demolishthe Comtean classification, considered as an expression of thetrue relations between the sciences. It appears that Comtehas intermingled three abstract sciences,-mathematics,physics, and chemistry, -with three concrete sciences, -astronomy, biology, and sociology. He was led into thisconfusion by confounding the general with the abstract. But,as Mr. Spencer has pointed out, these terms have differentmeanings. "Abstractness means detachment from the incidentsof particular cases; generality means manifestation innumerous cases. On the one hand the essential nature ofsome phenomenon is considered, apart from the phenomena which disguise it. On the other hand, the frequencyof recurrence of the phenomenon, with or without variousdisguising phenomena, is the thing considered. An abstracttruth is rarely if ever realized to perception in any one caseof which it is asserted. A general truth may be realized toperception in all of the cases of which it is asserted.In other words, a general truth colligates a number of particular truths; while an abstract truth colligates no particulartruths, but formulates a truth which certain phenomena allinvolve, though it may be actually seen in none of them. " ¹•Now there can be no question that if we were to substitutethe words general and special for the words abstract andconcrete, in the Comtean classification, that classificationwould express, to a certain extent, a true distinction . Ncdoubt chemistry and biology are general sciences, while1 Spencer, Classification of the Sciences, 1864, pp. 7-9.SH. VIII.]ORGANIZATION OF THE SCIENCES. 215mineralogy, zoology and botany are more or less specialsciences. But the distinction between abstract and concreteis by far the deeper distinction, and because the Comteanclassification incorrectly formulates it, there is no alternativebut to regard that classification as incurably faulty.The above criticism, however, supplies us with materialsfor making a better one. As the case now stands, we havethree abstract sciences,-mathematics, physics, and chemistry.Yet a distinction in degree of abstractness arises betweenmathematics and the other two. All three were originallyobtained by generalization from concrete phenomena. Allmathematical analysis starts from numeration, as all geometrystarts from measuring. Nevertheless, mathematics hasutterly outgrown the processes of concrete observation, andis a purely deductive science, dealing merely with numberand figure, or what may be called the blank forms of phenomena. It thus becomes more nearly allied to logic than tothe physical sciences; and indeed the chief differencebetween the two is that logic deals with qualitative relationsonly, while mathematics deals with relations that are quantitative. On the other hand, molar physics, molecular physics,and chemistry, dealing with abstract laws of motion andforce that are gained from experience of concrete phenomena,and appealing at every step to the concrete processes ofobservation and experiment, may be distinguished as abstractconcrete sciences. These sciences analyze concrete phenomena, in order to formulate the working of their factors." In every case it is the aim to decompose the phenomenon,and formulate its components apart from one another; orsome two or three apart from the rest. " The problem is toascertain the laws of molar motion, or molecular vibration,or atomic rearrangement, not as these laws are actually realizedto perception in any concrete example, "but as they would bedisplayed in the absence of those minute interferences which216 [PT. LCOSMIC PHILOSOPHY.cannot be altogether avoided." Conversely, when we cometo the concrete sciences, -astronomy, geology, biology, psychology, and sociology, our business is no longer analysisbut synthesis. " Not to formulate the factors of phenomenais nowthe object; but to formulate the phenomena resultingfrom these factors under the various conditions which theUniverse presents."Thus we have distinguished three orders of sciences,—theabstract, the abstract- concrete, and the concrete. Our taskis next to arrange the concrete sciences in some convenientand justifiable order. Mr. Spencer has constructed anelaborate tableau of these sciences, which is at once elegantand accurate, but which, for ordinary purposes, may profitably be abridged and condensed. Our principle of abridgmentshall be a simple one. Since, in the concrete sciences, ourobject is to interpret the various orders of phenomena synthetically, as actually manifested throughout that portion ofthe universe which is accessible to our researches, we cannotdo better than arrange these sciences in the order in whichtheir subject-phenomena have begun to be manifested in thecourse of universal Evolution. First in order come theastronomical phenomena presented by the genesis of thesolar system from a cooling and contracting mass of vapour,and the resulting rotatory motions of its members. Nextcome the geological phenomena presented by each coolingand contracting planet, but completely accessible to us onlyin the case of the earth. With the origin of life upon the earth,already considerably advanced in its development, biologicalphenomena begin to be presented. Still later, with theappearance of animals possessing comparatively complexnervous systems, begin the phenomena of consciousness, constituting the subject-matter of psychology. Finally, with1 See, in this connection, a very interesting letter by the distinguishedgeologist M. Cotta in La Philosophie Positive, mai-juin, 1869; tom iv. P186.JH. VIII.] ORGANIZATION OF THE SCIENCES. 217the advent of creatures sufficiently intelligent to congregatefor mutual assistance in permanent family- groups, and bythe aid of language to transmit their organized experiencefrom generation to generation, there begin the phenomena ofsociology.The logical correctness of this threefold division of thesciences is shown by the fact that the several sciences whichwe have arranged together in each group cohere stronglyamong themselves, while they do not strongly cohere withthe sciences arranged in either of the other groups. Theconcrete sciences, for example, all agree in having for theirsubject-matter the study of the aggregates of sensible existences, or of the relations and forces which sensible existencesmanifest in the state of aggregation. Sidereal Astronomydeals with stellar aggregates scattered through space just aswe find them. " Planetary Astronomy, cutting out of thisall-including aggregate that relatively minute part constituting the solar system, deals with this as a whole. " Out ofthe number of aggregates which make up the whole withwhich planetary astronomy thus deals, Geology selects the onemost easily accessible, and studies that one in detail. Again,among the many rearrangements of matter and motion whichgo on upon the earth's surface, there are found a number ofsmall aggregates which Biology distinguishes as vital, andaccordingly selects as constituting its own special subjectmatter. Among the many functions which, taken together,make up the life of these organic aggregates, there are sundryspecialized aggregates of functions which adjust the actionsof organisms to the complex activities surrounding them ";and these specialized aggregates of functions form the subiect-matte of Psychology. Lastly Sociology " considers eachtribe and nation as an aggregate presenting multitudinousphenomena, simultaneous and successive, that are heldtogether as parts of one combination. " So that, from first tolast, the object of the concrete sciences is to describe the"218 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY [PT. I. .history and formulate the modes of action of actually existing aggregates, from the time when they begin to exist asaggregates down to the time when they cease to exist asaggregates.It is quite otherwise with the abstract- concrete sciences.By all these sciences, actually existing aggregates are implicitly ignored; " and a property, or a connected set of properties, exclusively occupies attention. " It matters not toMolar Physics " whether the moving mass it considers is aplanet or molecule, a dead stick thrown into the river or theliving dog that leaps after it: in any case the curve describedby the moving mass conforms to the same laws." So whenMolecular Physics investigates " the relation between thechanging bulk of matter and the changing quantity of molecular motion it contains," constant account is taken of connected sets of properties, but no account whatever is taken ofparticular aggregates of matter. The conclusions reachedapply equally to Chimborazo and to a tea- kettle, to thesolidification of the earth's crust and to the cracking of apipe by frozen water. Similarly in Chemistry, while “ ascertaining the affinities and atomic equivalence of carbon, thechemist has nothing to do with any aggregate. He dealswith carbon in the abstract, as something considered apartfrom quantity, form, or appearance, or temporary state ofcombination; and conceives it as the possessor of powers orproperties, whence the special phenomena he describes result;the ascertaining of all these powers or properties being hissole aim." So that, from first to last, the object of theabstract- concrete sciences is to give an account " of someorder of properties, general or special; not caring about theother traits of an aggregate displaying them, and not recognizing aggregates at all further than is implied by discussionof the particular order of properties. "Finally, the abstract sciences deal solely with relationsamong aggregates or among properties, or with the relationsH. VIIL] ORGANIZATION OF THE SCIENCES. 219between aggregates and properties, or with relations artongrelations; but take no further account of aggregates or ofproperties than is implied in the discussion of a particularorder of relations. For example, " the same Logical formulaapplies equally well, whether its terms are men and theirdeaths, crystals and their planes of cleavage, or letters andtheir sounds. And how entirely Mathematics concerns itselfwith relations, we see on remembering that it has just thesame expression for the characters of an infinitesimal triangle, as for those of the triangle which has Sirius for itsapex and the diameter of the earth's orbit for its base. "1Since then, " these three groups of sciences are, respectively, accounts of aggregates, accounts of properties, accountsof relations, it is manifest that the divisions between themare not simply perfectly clear, but that the chasms betweenthem are absolute. " Thus we arrive at the followingClassification of the Sciences.ABSTRACT SCIENCES,dealing with relations, that are {qualitative quantitative;;ABSTRACT- CONCRETESCIENCES,dealing with properties, that'are manifestedCONCRETE SCIENCES,dealing with aggregates (with their properties and rela- tions), as actually exempli- fiedin movements of masses;in movements of moleLogic.Mathematics.Molar Physics.cules; andinaggrega- Molecular Physics tions of molecules thatare hom*ogeneous;in aggregations of mole- cules that are hetero- Chemistry.geneous;in stellar and planetarysystems;in the earth;in living organisms;in the functions whichadjust organic actions to specific relations in the environment;in the mutual relationsAstronomy.Geology.Biology.Psychology.of living organisms Sociologygrouped into commu- nities;1 Spencer, Recent Discussions, pp. 107-110.220 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. 1.It remains to add that each of the five concrete sciencesmay, for the purposes of our philosophic synthesis, be advantageously regarded as consisting of two portions. In thefirst place, we have Astronomy-in the time-honoured senseof the word-which deals with the motions of stellar andplanetary masses in their present state of moving equilibrium; and Astrogeny, as it is now frequently termed, whichseeks to ascertain the genesis of these masses and of theirmotions.Geology admits of a similar division. The general laws ofthe redistribution of gases and liquids over the earth's surface, which we commonly call meteorology, and the generallaws of the formation of solid compounds, which we callmineralogy, unite to furnish us with a general doctrine of themassive and molecular motions going on at any given epochand under any given geographic condition of the earth's surface. But geology has another clearly-defined province;which is to formulate the general order of sequence amongterrestrial epochs; to ascertain the genesis of the variousmolar and molecular redistributions going on at any givenperiod, by regarding them as consequent upon the relationsbetween a cooling rotating spheroid and a neighbouring sunwhich imparts to it thermal, luminous, and actinic undulations. This part of the science is already currently knownas Geogeny. And here we touch upon the essential point ofdifference between geology and astronomy, regarded assciences of development, which it seems to me that M.Wyrouboff, in his interesting essay upon this subject, hasquite lost sight of. Both astrogeny and geogeny are concerned with the phenomena presented by a cooling and contracting body, of the figure known as a spheroid of rotation.In the one case this body is the sun, which once more thanfilled the orbit of Neptune; in the other case it is the earth,which at first more than filled the moon's orbit. But togetherwith this point of community between the two sciences, thereCH. VIII. ] ORGANIZATION OF THE SCIENCES. 221is a fundamental difference between them. While astrogenycontemplates the contracting spheroid chiefly as a generatorof other spheroids, which are from time to time formed fromits equatorial belt, detached as often as the centrifugal forceat its equator begins to exceed the force of gravitation at thesame place; on the other hand, geogeny contemplates thecontracting spheroid only with reference to the redistributionsof matter and motion going on within itself, and partly consequent upon its cooling. Partly consequent, I say, for thereis one further point of difference between the two sciences.Astrogeny contemplates its spheroid as a radiator of heat,but neglects, as not affecting its own peculiar problems, theheat which the spheroid may receive by radiation from othermasses. But geogeny not only studies its spheroid as aradiator of heat, but includes, as of the highest importance,the heat which it receives from an external source.In Biology also the twofold point of view is obvious,according as we study structures and functions in mobileequilibrium at any particular epoch, or on the other hand theprocess of adaptation which structures and functions undergoas the conditions of existence change from epoch to epoch.The first of these studies gives rise to the sciences of anatomyand physiology, as well as to the subsidiary science of pathology. On the other hand Biogeny comprises embryology,morphology, and questions relating to the origin of species.Psychology too admits of a similar division, into the department which embraces the laws of association, as generalizedby James Mill and further illustrated by Mr. Bain; andPsychogeny, which endeavours to interpret the genesis ofintellectual faculties and emotional feelings in the race,and their slow modifications throughout countless geneations.Finally in Sociology this principle of twofold division isBO manifest that for the past thirty years the distinction hasbeen currently, though too vaguely, drawn between " social223 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. 1statics " and " social dynamics." Obviously we may eitherstudy the phenomena arising from social aggregation, as theyare manifested under any given set of conditions; or we maystudy the phenomena of progress manifested in the relationsof each epoch to preceding and succeeding epochs. In thefirst case, we have the sub-sciences of political economy,ethics, jurisprudence, etc.; in the second case we haveSociogeny, or the so- called " science of history."In each of the five concrete sciences, therefore, there is asub-science which deals with the genesis or evolution of thephenomena which form the subject-matter of the science;and it is with these sciences of genesis that we shall chieflybe concerned throughout the second part of this work. It isof little consequence, however, whether the symmetricalnomenclature here used be adopted or not. Excessive symmetry in naming is a mark of pedantry rather than of accuracy; and questions of terminology become important onlywhen differences of opinion are involved. In reasoning aboutthe Test of Truth, it makes a great difference whether we usethe term " incredible or the term " inconceivable." In thepresent discussion, it makes a great difference whether wespeak of biology as an " abstract " or as a " concrete " science.But provided we bear in mind the twofold character of theproblems which it is the office of biology to solve, it makeslittle difference whether or not we employ such a term asbiogeny "; and such expressions will be used, in thepresent work, only when it is desirable to avoid tediouscircumlocution.66""If now we proceed to inquire whether our revised classification can be made to afford us a bird's-eye view of thehistoric progression of the respective sciences, we shall findthat it cannot be made to do so. The classification has beenmade upon purely logical grounds; and no attempt has beenmade to express the order of historic progression, simplybecause, as I have already shown, that order cannot be exCH. VIII.]ORGANIZATION OF THE SCIENCES. 223pressed by any linear series. If we were to represent therespective rates of progress in the different sciences by adevice familiar to statisticians; denoting the sciences by aseries of curves, starting from the same point, and constructedwith reference to a common abscissa; marking off the abscissainto equal sections and , sub- sections answering to centuriesand decades; and expressing the progress of each science ateach decade by the length of the ordinate erected at the corresponding sub- section; we should see these curves from firstto last intersecting each other in the most complicated andapparently capricious manner. Probably the only conspicuously persistent relation would be that between the entireset of curves representing the concrete organic sciences, andall the rest of the curves taken together; of which two setsthe former would, on the whole, have the shorter ordinates.But on sufficiently close inspection, we should detect,between the sets of curves representing the abstract, theabstract- concrete, and the concrete sciences, a relation equallyconstant, and far more interesting, though less conspicuous.We should observe that all along the progress of the concretesciences has determined that of the abstract- concrete andabstract sciences, and has been determined by it; that, fromfirst to last, synthesis and analysis have gone hand in hand.Such has been the complex order of progression. Men havebegun by grouping concrete phenomena empirically. Whenthe groups have become wide enough to allow the disclosureof some mode of force uniformly manifested in them, theoperations of this force have begun to be experimentally ordeductively studied, all disturbing conditions being as faras possible eliminated or left out of the account; and thushave arisen the analytic or abstract- concrete sciences. Andfinally, as fast as the laws of the various manifestations offorce have been generalized, the synthetical interpretation ofphenomena has advanced by the aid of the knowledge ofthese laws. As Mr. Spencer well expresses it: "there has224 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT...all along been higher specialization, that there might be alarger generalization; and a deeper analysis, that there mightbe a better synthesis. Each larger generalization has liftedsundry specializations still higher; and each better synthesishas prepared the way for still deeper analysis." Long beforeArchimedes founded statics, the earliest branch of abstractconcrete science, empirical generalizations had been made ineveryone ofthe concrete sciences. Astronomyhad accomplishedthe preliminary task of classifying stars according to theirtimes of rising and setting, of tracing the apparent courses ofthe planets, of determining the order of recurrence of lunareclipses, and of constructing chronological cycles. In geology some scanty progress had been made, in classifying thephysical features of the earth's surface, and in ascertainingthe properties of a limited number of minerals. In biology,classification had been carried sufficiently far to enable anacute observer, like Aristotle, to distinguish between theselachians, or shark-tribe, and the bony fishes; and a considerable amount of anatomical and physiological knowledge had been acquired, as may be seen in the works ofHippokrates. Even in psychology there had been madea crude classification of the intellectual and emotional functions; and the " Politics " of Aristotle show us the staticaldivision of sociology already empirically organized. Tosuch a point had the synthetic concrete sciences arrived inantiquity; and this point they did not pass until the analyticabstract-concrete sciences had furnished them with factorswith which to work. Astronomy must still remain in theempirical stage until molar physics had generalized theabstract laws of falling bodies, of the composition of forces,and of tangential momentum. Geology could not advanceuntil molecular physics had supplied the general principlesof thermal radiation and conduction, of evaporation and precipitation, condensation and rarefaction. Biology was obligedto wait until chemistry had thrown light upon the molecularCH. VIIL ] ORGANIZATION OF THE SCIENCES. 225constitution of the various tissues and anatomical elements,and had furnished the means of explaining syntheticallysuch organic processes as digestion and assimilation. But,as we have already seen, the obligation has not been all onone side. The services rendered by the analytic to the synthetic sciences have been all along repaid by services no lessessential. Thus the great principle of molar physics-thelaw of gravitation-could not be generalized from terrestrialphenomena alone, but had to wait until astronomic observations had revealed the true forms of the planetary orbits andthe rates of their velocities. Thus molecular physics hasreceived important hints from mineralogy, the properties ofcrystals having rendered indispensable aid in the discoveriesof polarization and double refraction, and therefore in the finalverification of the undulatory theory. And thus also in lateyears the researches of Dumas, Laurent, Gerhardt, and Williamson on the structure of organic molecules have reactedupon the whole domain of inorganic chemistry, regeneratingthe doctrine of types, supplying the fundamental conceptionsof atomicity and quantivalence, replacing the dualistic theoryof Berzelius by the theory of saturation and substitution, andinaugurating a radical revolution in chemical nomenclature.I may note in passing that this great revolution, which hasrendered the science of only half-a-generation ago completely antiquated, and has obliged so many of us to unlearnthe chemistry which we learned at college, furnishes a crucialdisproof of the Comtean theory of the way in which ascientific revolution should occur. We see that the chemistryof inorganic bodies was not placed upon its true foundationuntil the study of organic chemistry had supplied to thewhole science its fundamental principles; in spite of Comte,who always scouted at organic chemistry as an illegitimatescience, and predicted the speedy extension of the dualistictheory to organic compounds.Space permitting, I might go on and point out moreVOL. L226 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Lminutely how the allied sciences in each grand division havecontinually reacted upon each other; how synthesis hasdirectly aided synthesis, and how analysis has directly aidedanalysis; how the analytic and the simpler synthetic scienceshave from time to time furnished new hints to mathematics;and how all the other sciences, in all the divisions, frommathematics to sociology, have aided the progress of logic,supplying it with new methods of investigation and freshcanons of proof. But such a detailed survey is not reedfulfor the purposes of this work. Let us rather return for amoment to our criticism of Comte, and, having alreadyexamined his organization of the sciences both from thehistorical and from the logical point of view, let us endeavourto render an impartial verdict as to the philosophic value ofhis achievement.If tried by its conformity to the ideal standard of perfection furnished by the scientific and philosophical knowledgeof the present day, the Comtean classification of the sciencesmust undoubtedly be pronounced, in nearly all essentialrespects, a failure. As a representation of the historic orderof progression among the different sciences, it must beregarded as the imperfect expression of an inadequatelycomprehended set of truths. We have seen that this orderof progression depends upon at least five interacting factors;upon the simplicity, the concreteness, the conspicuousness,and the frequency of the phenomena investigated, and uponthe comparative number and perfection of the implements ofinvestigation. Of these five factors, the Comtean series takesinto account only the first, or at the utmost only the first andthe last. For this reason it unduly simplifies the order ofprogression. Doubtless it is correct to say that, other thingsequal, the simpler and more general phenomena have beeninterpreted earlier than the more complex and specialphenomena; but the other things have not been equal. Andconsequently scientific evolution has not proceeded uniformlySH. VIII.] ORGANIZATION OF THE SCIENCES. $27in a straight line, but rhythmically, in a plexus of curvedlines.As a representation of the logical order of subordinationamong the different sciences, the Comtean series is equallyfaulty. While it correctly formulates sundry of the minorrelations of dependence, as well as one relation of great importance, —that of the dependence of organic upon inorganicscience, it incorrectly formulates the grand distinction ofall, the distinction between abstract and concrete, betweenanalytic and synthetic, science. It mixes together sciencesformed by the analysis and synthesis of concrete phenomena, and a science which is purely abstract. It strives torepresent, by a linear series, relations which are so complexthat they can be adequately represented only in space ofthree dimensions.It is therefore indisputable that the Comtean classification,viewed absolutely, is a failure. The advance of science hasrefuted instead of confirming it. It has become rather anencumbrance than a help to the understanding of the truerelations among the sciences. Shall we then, with Prof.Huxley, say that the classification, and with it the wholeComtean philosophy of science, is " absolutely worthless? " 1I think not. We might say as much of Oken or Hegel, buthardly of Stewart or Ampère; far less of Comte. Mr.Spencer speaks more justly of his great antagonist when hesays: " Let it by no means be supposed from all I have said,that I do not regard M. Comte's speculations as of greatvalue. True or untrue, his system as a whole has doubtlessFroduced important and salutary revolutions of thought inmany minds; and will doubtless do so in many more.Doubtless, too, not a few of those who dissent from hisgeneral views have been healthfully stimulated by the consideration of them. The presentation of scientific knowledgeand method as a whole, whether rightly or wrongly coordinated,1 Huxley Lay Sermons, p. 172.228 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY [PT. I. .cannot have failed greatly to widen the conceptions of most ofhis readers. And he has done especial service by familiarizing men with the idea of a social science based on the othersciences. Beyond which benefits resulting from the generalcharacter and scope of his philosophy, I believe that thereare scattered through his pages many large ideas that arevaluable not only as stimuli, but for their actual truth."This passage comes so near to appreciating Comte's truephilosophic position, that one is surprised to find Mr. Spencer,after all, stating that position inadequately. Though he seesclearly that, whether rightly or wrongly coordinated, thepresentation of scientific knowledge and method as a whole,must greatly have widened people's conceptions; he does notexplicitly recognize that this presentation of scientificknowledge and method as a whole was, in spite of the wrongcoordination, a step sufficient of itself to change and renovatothe entire attitude of philosophy. He tells us that personlike Prof. Huxley, Prof. Tyndall, and himself, stand substantially in the same position in which they would havestood had Comte never written; that, " declining his re .organization of scientific doctrine, they possess this scientifidoctrine in its pre- existing state, as the common heritagobequeathed by the past to the present." And elsewhere hotells us that Comte " designated by the term ' PositivePhilosophy ' all that definitely- established knowledge whichmen of science have been gradually organizing into a coherentbody of doctrine." It seems to me, on the other hand, thatthe coherent body of doctrine was the very thing which noscientific thinker had ever so much as attempted to construct,though Bacon, no doubt, foresaw the necessity of some suchconstruction. M. Littré may well inquire what is meant bythe great scientific minds whose traditions Comte is said tohave followed. " Does it mean the philosophers? Whythey have one and all belonged to theology or metaphysics,and it is not their tradition which Comte has followed. DoesCH VIII. ] ORGANIZATION OF THE SCIENCES. 229it mean those who have illustrated particular sciences? Well,since they have not philosophized, Comte can hardly havereceived his philosophy from them. That which is recent inthe Positive Philosophy, that which is Comte's invention, isthe conception and construction of a philosophy, by drawingfrom particular sciences, and from the teaching of greatscientific minds, such groups of truths as could be coordinatedon the positive method."That the mode in which Comte effected this coordinationwas imperfect, may affect our estimate of the amount of hisachievements, but it cannot affect our estimate of theircharacter. The former is a merely personal question, interesting chiefly to disciples; the latter is a general question,interesting to all of us who are students of philosophy. Forthe purposes of impartial criticism, the great point is, notthat the attempt was a complete success, but that the attemptwas made. When knowledge is advancing with such giantstrides as at present, it is hardly possible to construct ageneral doctrine which forty years of further inquiry andcriticism will not considerably modify and partially invalidate. It is now forty years since Comte framed his philosophy of science; and during that period there is not asingle department of knowledge, outside of pure mathematics,which has not undergone a veritable revolution. Molecularphysics has been revolutionized by the discovery of thecorrelation of forces; and the deduction of that principle, aswell as of the principle of virtual velocities, from the law ofthe persistence of force, has placed molar physics also upona new basis. Chemistry, as we have seen, has undergonechanges nearly as sweeping as those brought about byLavoisier; changes which have thoroughly renovated ourconceptions of the phenomenal constitution of matter.Sidereal astronomy has been brought into existence as ascience; and we have learned how to make a ray of lightjourneying toward us from the remotest regions of space,230 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY [PT. Ltell us of the molecular constitution of the matter fromwhich it started. Geology has been robbed of its cataclysms,and periods of universal extinction; while both astrogenyand geogeny have assumed a new character through thewide extension of the theory of nebular genesis. There isnot a truth in biology which has not been shown up in anew light by the victory of the cell- doctrine; the discoveryof natural selection has entirely remodelled our conceptionsof organic development; and the dynamical theory of stimulushas wrought great changes, which are but the beginning ofgreater changes, in pathology, in hygiene, and in the treatment of disease. Psychology, in both its branches, hasreceived a scientific constitution by the establishment ofthe primary laws of association, and the fundamental law ofthe growth of intelligence. And sociology, both statical anddynamical, has undergone changes equally important, as weshall see when we come to treat specially of that subject.All this makes up an aggregate of scientific achievementsuch as the world has never before witnessed in anythinglike an equally short interval. So enormous is the accumulated effect of all these discoveries upon the general habitsof thought, that the men of the present day who have fullykept pace with the scientific movement, are separated fromthe men whose education ended in 1830, by an immeasurablywider gulf than has ever before divided one progressivegeneration of men from their predecessors. And when weadd that both the history of science and the general principlesupon which discoveries are made have been, during thisinterval and largely through the impulse given by Comtehimself, more thoroughly studied than ever before, we maybegin to realize how far the resources which we possess forconstructing a synthesis of the sciences, exceed the resourceswhich were at his disposal. We shall realize that Comteat least where physical science is concerned--has come to bealmost an ancient; and we shall see that there may easily beSH. VIIL.] ORGANIZATION OF THE SCIENCES. 231injustice in criticizing him as if he were a contemporary.We shall find the legitimate ground for wonder to be, notthat he did so little, but that he did so much. And estimatinghim, as we estimate Bacon, from a purely historical point ofview, we shall feel obliged to admit that the grand characteristic of the modern movement in philosophy-the continuousorganization of scientific truths into a coherent body ofdoctrine found in Comte its earliest, though by no meansan adequate, exponent. Previous to him, as M. Littré isright in reminding us, the field of general speculationbelonged to metaphysics or theology, while science dealt onlywith specialities. It was owing to an impulse of whichComte is the earliest representative, that the tables wereturned. The field of general speculation is now the propertyof science, while metaphysics and theology are presented asparticular transitory phases of human thought.¹ Whatever,therefore, may be the case with Mr. Spencer-whose entireoriginality cannot for a moment be questioned -it is not trueof the great body of scientific thinkers, that they stand inessentially the same position in which they would havestood had Comte never written. The course of speculativeinquiry during the past forty years would no more have beenwhat it is, without Comte, than the course of speculativeinquiry during the past two centuries would have beenwhat it is, without Bacon. And, indeed, in Mr. Spencersown case, as he is himself disposed to admit, there areseveral instances in which his very antagonism to Comte hasled him to state certain important truths more clearly andmore definitely than he would otherwise have been likely tostate them. The theory of deanthropomorphization, set forthin the preceding chapter, was presented in a much morevivid light than would have been possible had it not beenreached through an adverse criticism of the Comtean doctrineof the "Three Stages." The condemnation of Atheism1 Littr , Auguste Comte, p. 99.132 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY [PT. L.involved in our statement of that theory, is redoubled inemphasis when Positivism is by the same reasoning condemned; and our dissent from Hume is all the more stronglyaccented, when it is seen to be so complete as to includedissent from Comte also. So, too, the conclusions reachedin the present chapter concerning the organization of thesciences are undeniably far more precise and satisfactorythan they would have been if presented without referenceto the earlier and necessarily cruder views of Comte. Indeed,in the very sense of incompleteness which would justly haveattached itself to our exposition, had no mention been madeof the Comtean theory, we may find fresh illustration ofthe fact that the errors of great minds are often no lessinstructive than the permanent truths which they havesucceeded in detecting. And consequently, so far fromdecrying the Positive Philosophy or seeking to ignore it, weshall much better fulfil our duty as critics if we franklyacknowledge that the speculative progress of the nineteenthcentury would have been incomplete without it. Holdingthese views, and for these reasons, we may freely admit thejustice of much that Prof. Huxley urges against Comte;that his rejection of psychology was unphilosophical, andhis acceptance of phrenology puerile; that his acquaintancewith science was bookish and unpractical, and that hisefforts to found a social polity were the very madness ofutopian speculation. Had he committed twice as many suchblunders, his general conception of philosophy and his contributions to the logic of science would have remainedsubstantially unaffected in value. Had Bacon enrolled himself among the followers of Copernicus instead of adheringto the exploded theories of Ptolemaios, that fact would notby itself affect our estimate of the value of the " NovumOrganon." And Comte's philosophic position, as I havehere sought to define it, is no more shaken by his numerousscientific blunders than Bacon's position is shaken by theCH. VIII. ] ORGANIZATION OF THE SCIENCES 233fact that he repudiated the Copernican astronomy and refusedto profit by the physical discoveries of Gilbert.But the allusion to the Logic of Science may here serve toremind us that, before we can thoroughly understand Comte'sgeneral conception of philosophy, there is another point ofview from which his system of the sciences must becriticized; a point of view too little dwelt upon by Mr.Spencer, since by the due consideration of it we shall arriveat the deepest of the differences between the Comteanorganization of the sciences and the Spencerian organizationwhich is here adopted. In order fairly to bring out thispoint, let us devote a chapter to considering the masterlyenumeration of scientific methods, and the survey of theresources which the mind has at its disposal for the investigation of phenomena, which Comte has made a part ofhis general philosophy of the sciences; withholding, untilthe sequel, the application which is to be made of thediscussion.CHAPTER IX.PHILOSOPHY AS AN ORGANON.THE absence of Logic, as a distinct science, from, the Comteanclassification, has by most critics been rightly regarded as aserious defect. Nevertheless, before we can intelligently findfault with Comte, we must make sure that we understandhis grounds for assigning to Logic no independent position.The explanation is more deeply implicated with his fundamental conception of the Scope of Philosophy than hasgenerally been suspected. But let us begin by consideringthe more obvious aspects of the case.The science of logic consists of two portions,-the doctrineof the syllogism, and the general theory of induction, thelatter comprising a codification on the one hand of themethods of research, and on the other hand of the laws ofevidence. But this twofold province of logic can hardly besaid to have been clearly indicated until the publication ofMr. Mill's treatise. From the days of Aristotle down to thetime when Comte wrote the " Philosophie Positive," the logicofficially recognized and taught as such consisted almostexclusively of the doctrine of the syllogism. Besides thisthere was nothing save the Baconian logic, containing indeedmany valuable hints for inquirers, but nct organized into acoherent system. Now Comte held in small esteem theJH, IX. ] PHILOSOPHY AS AN ORGANON. 235syllogistic logic. He held, and justly, that something besidesthe scholastic quibbling over Baroco, Camestres and Barbara,was needed in prosecuting the search after new truths. Toattempt, by prolonged dealing in these dialectic subtleties, toacquire the art of correct reasoning, was, in his opinion,much like trying to learn the art of correct speaking by prolonged study of the rules of grammar. Men do not learn toswim, to fence, or to hunt, by reading elaborate treatises ongymnastics and sportsmanship. The study of rhetoric, however thorough, careful and systematic, will never of itselfenable us to write a clear and forcible style. We may knowall the commandments of ethics by heart, and be able toutter the soundest judgment upon the comparative merits ofthe utilitarian and the intuitional theories, and yet be unableto lead upright lives. And similarly we may go on stringingtogether majors and minors until we are grey, and yet afterall be unable to make an accurate observation, or perform alegitimate induction. Therefore, according to Comte, logic isnot so much a science as an art, indispensable in the prosecution of all the sciences, but to be learned only by practice.As philosophy, regarded as a general conception of theuniverse, has hitherto, like the mistletoe, had its roots in theair, but has now been brought down and securely planted inthe fertile soil of scientific knowledge, so let us no longerpermit logic to remain in isolation, feeding upon airy nothings,but let us bring it down and nourish it with scientificmethods. As we learn to live rightly, not by dogmatic instruction, but by the assiduous practice of right living, as welearn to speak properly and to write forcibly by practice andnot by theory, so let us gain control of the various instruments for investigating Nature by the study of the severalsciences in which those instruments come into play. Tobecome skilful in the use of deduction, let us study mathematics, especially in its direct applications to the solution ofproblems in astronomy and physics. If we would become236 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [ PT. L.accurate observers, and would enable ourselves properly toestimate the value of experimental reasoning, let us studythose inductive sciences which exhibit practically theessential requisites of an accurate observation or a conclusive experiment. Even so, if we would attain literary excellence, let us not fritter away our time in puerile attemptsto imitate the favourite modes of expression of admiredwriters, but let us rather aim at directly expressing thethoughts that are in us, the result of our own observationand reflection, admitting no phrase which does not assist theexposition of the thought. If, as Buffon said, the style isthe man, so also is the habit of thinking the man, save thatin the one case as in the other, if it possess any merit, it isthe man as modified and cultivated by a complex intercoursewith phenomena.Such is Comte's opinion of logic, -an opinion commonenough at the present day, but sufficiently novel to berevolutionary forty years ago. That the above views are inthe main perfectly sound will now be questioned by no one,nor can it be doubted that they are of the highest importance.When put into practical operation, they are destined to workchanges of fundamental importance in our methods of education. Nevertheless, though sound enough as far as they go,these arguments are far from exhibiting the whole truth.Admitting unreservedly that, to become proficient in observation and reasoning, we must learn logic, as we learngrammar and rhetoric, by practical experience; it must stillbe maintained that there is need of a general doctrine oflogic, as indeed there is also need of a general doctrine ofgrammar and rhetoric. Though a man may write an excellent style without having studied rhetoric systematically,yet it will be no injury, but rather an important help to himto understand theoretically the general principles on whicha sentence should be constructed. In the fine arts, whichafford an excellent test for judging this point, the superiorityCH. IX. ] PHILOSOPHY AS AN ORGANON. 237imparted by systematic instruction is quite incontestable.Doubtless it is by long-continued practice that men learn topaint pictures, to mould statues, and to compose oratorios orsymphonies. But it is none the less probable that Mozartand Beethoven would have accomplished comparatively littlewithout the profound study of harmony; and in paintingand sculpture the " originality of untaught geniuses " is, notunjustly, made a subject for sarcasm. It is therefore uselessfor Macaulay to remind us that men reasoned correctly longbefore Bacon had drawn up his elaborate canons of induction; or for Comte to appeal to rhetoric, grammar, andæsthetic art in support of the opinion that we need nogeneral doctrine of logic.To take a concrete example, -if, as in Borda's experiment,you make a simple pendulum oscillate thirty hours in anexhausted receiver, by diminishing the friction at the pointof support, and proceed to infer that with the total abolitionof friction and atmospheric resistance the pendulum wouldoscillate for ever, it may not be essential to the validity ofyour inference that you should understand the character ofthe particular logical method which you are employing.Nevertheless it cannot but be of advantage to you to knowthat you are using the " method of concomitant variations,"and to understand on general principles the conditions underwhich this method may be employed and the precautionsrequired in order to make it valid. For want of such generalknowledge of method, even trained physicists not unfrequently make grave errors of inference, applying somepowerful implement of research in cases where interferingcirc*mstances, not sufficiently taken into account, render itpowerless. Thus the method just alluded to, of varying thecause in order to observe and note the concomitant variationsof the effect, is a very powerful instrument of induction;but in order to use it effectively, we need to bear in mindtwo things. First, we need to know the quantitative relation238 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Lbetween the variation of the cause and that of the effect;and secondly, we need to know that the intermixture ofcirc*mstances will not, after a certain point, alter the order ofthe variations. In the case of the pendulum, just cited, weknow both of these points. We know that the only factorsin the case are the momentum of the pendulum, acting inconcert with gravity, the friction at the point of support, andthe friction and resistance of the atmosphere; and as weprogressively diminish these latter retarding factors, we cancalculate the exact ratio at which the retardation diminishes.We are therefore perfectly justified in concluding that ifthe friction and resistance could be utterly abolished, themomentum of the pendulum, acting in concert with gravity,would carry it backward and forward for ever. But becausethe abstraction of heat causes the molecules of a body toapproach each other, it is not safe to infer that, if all theheat were abstracted, the molecules would be in completecontact. This is a more or less plausible guess, not a trueinduction. " For since we neither know how much heatthere is in any body, nor what is the real distance betweenany two of its particles, we cannot judge whether the contraction of the distance does or does not follow the diminution of the quantity of heat according to such a numericalrelation that the two quantities would vanish simultaneously." In similar wise, from the fact that in alcoholicintoxication the severity of the narcotic symptoms variesaccording to the size of the dose, it is not legitimate to inferthat a very small dose will cause slight narcotic symptomsor even a tendency to the production of such symptoms.For we can neither ascertain the quantitative ratio betweenthe variation in the dose and the variation in the narcosis,nor in the case of such a complex aggregate as the humanorganism can we assert the absence of interfering conditionwhich, after a certain point, will entirely change the order of1 Mill, System of Legic, 6th edition, vol. i. p. 447.H. IX.] PHILOSOPHY AS AN ORGANON. 231the two variations. In point of fact there are such interfering conditions, due partly to the control exercised by thesympathetic nerve over the contraction and dilatation of thecerebral blood-vessels, and partly to other circ*mstances toocomplicated to be here mentioned.Now it is the business of logic to codify, upon abstractprinciples, the rules of scientific investigation; to determinewhat shall be admitted as trustworthy evidence, and whatshall not be so admitted; to point out the class of problemswhich each implement of research is best fitted to solve;and to enumerate the precautions which must be taken inorder to use each implement with skill and success . Logicis therefore a science which contributes to all the others, andto which all the others contribute. Though we may, andindeed must, acquire familiarity with its methods by directpractice in the study of the various sciences, yet theadvantage of understanding the general theory of thosemethods, as a science by itself, cannot well be questionedafter the foregoing explanation. To become familiar with thevalues of different kinds of evidence, and with the processesby which evidence is procured, a lawyer must practise incourt; yet every lawyer thinks it necessary to master thegeneral theory of evidence as presented in special treatises,Logic is to the philosopher and the scientific inquirer whatthe law of evidence is to the lawyer; and the need for itstheoretical study rests upon the admitted principle that, in allbranches of human activity, rational knowledge is better thanempirical knowledge. In order to be always sure that we aregeneralizing correctly, we must make the generalizing processitself a subject of generalization.But although Comte did not dignify logic with the rank ofan independent science, he more than atoned for the omissionby his contributions to the study of logic. Since the era ofBacon and Descartes, no book had appeared containing suchprofound views of scientific method as the " Philosophie210 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. LPositive." It has since been surpassed and superseded inmany respects by Mr. Mill's " System of Logic; " but Mr. Millwould be the first to admit that, but for the work of Comte,his own work would have been by no means what it is. ¹Comte's most important innovation consisted in comprehensively assigning to each class of phenomena itsappropriate method of investigation, and in clearly markingout the limits within which each method is applicable. It isthis which gives to the first three volumes of the " PhilosophiePositive " the character of a general treatise on scientificmethod, and which makes them still interesting and profitablereading, even in those chapters on physics, chemistry andbiology, which in nearly all other respects the recent revolutions in science have rendered thoroughly antiquated. Comteintended this portion of his work especially for a newOrganon of scientific research, which should influenceeducational methods in the future, as well as assist indetermining the general conception of the universe. Hecalls attention to the futility of approaching the most complicated phenomena, such as those of life, individual orsocial, without having previously, by the study of the simplersciences, learned what a law of nature is, what a scientificconception is, what is involved in making an accurate observation, what is requisite to a sound generalization, what arethe various means of verifying conclusions obtained bydeduction. Continually we witness the spectacle of scientificspecialists, justly eminent in their own department of research,who do not scruple to utter the most childish nonsense upontopics with which they are but slightly acquainted. Thereason is that they have learned to think correctly after someparticular fashion, but know too little of the general principleson which thinking should be conducted. In such a condition-owing to the discredit which the manifest failure ofmetaphysics has for the time being cast upon philosophy in1 This is perhaps too strongly stated. See Mill's Autobiography, PR207-213, 245.

H. IX.] PHILOSOPHY AS AN ORGANON. 241

general-are too many of our scientific savants of the presentcentury; whose narrowness of mind, in dealing withphilosophic questions, Comte was never weary of pointingout and tracing to its true source in the defective mastery oflogical methods. The cure for this narrowness is to be foundin a philosophic education which shall ensure familiarity withall logical methods by studying each in connection with thatorder of phenomena with which it is most especially fittedto deal.According to Comte, the resources which the mind has atit* disposal for the inductive investigation of phenomena arethree in number,-namely, Observation, Experiment, andComparison. Strictly speaking, experiment and comparisonare only more elaborate modes of observation; but they arenevertheless sufficiently distinct from simple observation tomake it desirable, for practical purposes, to rank them asseparate processes. Concisely stated, the difference is asfollows. In simple observation, we merely collate thephenomena, as they are presented to us. In experiment, wefollow the Baconian rule of artificially varying the circ*mstances. In comparison, we watch the circ*mstances as theyare varied for us on a great scale by Nature.Answering to the two processes of observation and experiment, as Mr. Mill has shown, there are two inductivemethods, the Method of Agreement and the Method ofDifference. The former compares different instances of aphenomenon, to ascertain in what respects they agree, whilethe latter compares an instance of the occurrence of aphenomenon with an instance of its non-occurrence, toascertain in what respects they differ. To cite from Mr.Mill's " System of Logic " a pair of examples:-" When aman is shot through the heart, it is by the method of difference we know that it was the gun-shot which killed him; forhe was in the fulness of life immediately before, all circ*mstances being the same except the wound." On the otherVOL. I. R242 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY [PT. L. .hand, in inquiring into the cause of crystallization, weemploy the method of agreement as follows. "We compareinstances in which bodies are known to assume crystallinestructure, but which have no other point of agreement; andwe find them to have one, and as far as we can observe,only one, antecedent in common, -the deposition of a solidmatter from a liquid state, either a state of fusion or ofsolution. We conclude, therefore, that the solidification of asubstance from a liquid state is an invariable antecedent ofits crystallization. " In this particular case we may say thatit is not only the invariable antecedent, but the unconditionalinvariable antecedent, or cause; since, having detected theantecedent, we may produce it artificially, and find that theeffect follows it. It was thus in Sir James Hall's splendidexperiment, in which " he produced artificial marble by thecooling of its materials from fusion under immense pressure. "And it was thus when Dr. Wollaston, "by keeping a vial ofwater charged with siliceous particles undisturbed for years,succeeded in obtaining crystals of quartz."Manifestly, however, unless we can artificially produce theantecedent, and so reason back from cause to effect, ourmethod of agreement is not exhaustively conclusive. Unlesswe can be sure that the observed antecedent is the only onecommon to all the instances, the sequence may turn out tobe only a derivative sequence, like that of day and night.And unless the phenomena are very simple, we cannot beLure that the observed common antecedent is the only one.It is otherwise with the method of difference. Whenever wecan bring that method to bear upon the phenomena, its resultsare finally conclusive; since it is the very essence of thatmethod to compare two instances which are exactly alike inevery respect save in the presence or absence of the givenantecedent. Unfortunately, in the operations of nature theserequisites are seldom fulfilled . So that the method ofdifference " is more particularly a method of artificial experi-CH. IX. ] PHILOSOPHY AS AN ORGANON. 243ment; while that of agreement is more especially the resourceemployed where experimentation is impossible."Now in astronomy we can employ only simple observation.The magnitude and the inaccessibility of the phenomenareuder it impossible for us to vary the circ*mstances, so thatexperiment is out of the question. Nevertheless, here thephenomena are so simple that the method of agreement alonecarries us far toward certainty; and accordingly in astronomythe art of observation has been brought to such a pitch ofperfection, and the conditions of an accurate observation areso thoroughly understood, that it is here that the use of thisimplement of induction must be studied.In physics, both molar and molecular, and in chemistry,the phenomena become far more complicated. Yet here webecome able to vary the phenomena almost indefinitely; andaccordingly physics and chemistry are the inductive sciencespar excellence, in which experiment, the great engine of induction, is employed most successfully, and in which, therefore, is especially to be studied the proper use of the methodof difference.When we come to biology, we are met by a still greateromplication of phenomena; but according to the luminous.principle, first suggested by Comte, that in general our meansof investigation increase with the complexity of the phenomena, we have here an additional weapon of investigation.We still retain the ability to experiment; although such isthe intricacy of the circ*mstances, and such the subtlety ofthe causes in operation, that we can seldom apply the potentmethod of difference. We can seldom be sure that the twoinstances compared agree in everything save in the presenceor absence of the circ*mstance we are studying. In experimenting upon live animals, we are liable to cause a patho1 A striking illustration of this truth is furnished by the controversy nowgoing on concerning archebiosis or " spontaneous generation." See below,part ii. chap. viii.>B 2244 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. PT. Llogical state, and set in motion a whole series of phenomenawhich obscure those which we wish to observe. It is instructive, and often amusing, to read some treatise on experimentalphysiology, like those of Magendie and Claude Bernard, andsee how easy it is for equally careful investigators to arriveat totally irreconcilable results. It is not to be denied thatexperiment is of vast importance in biology, and has alreadyachieved wonders. Nevertheless, the practical study ofexperimentation should never be begun in biology, but inchemistry or physics, where the conditions are simpler.Having learned from these sciences the general theory ofsound experimenting, we may afterward safely proceed toapply the same method to vital phenomena.The additional implement possessed by the organic sciencesis comparison, to which corresponds the Method of Concomitant Variations, already described. It is true we can alsoemploy this method to a large extent in the simpler sciences ,but it is in biology that it attains its maximum efficiency.Here we have a series of instances already prepared for usby Nature, in which certain antecedents and consequentsvary together. We have a vast hierarchy of organisms, eachexhibiting some organ and the corresponding function more orless developed than it is in the others. To trace the functionsof the nervous system, or to follow the process of digestion,in its increasing complication, from the star-fish up to man,is to employ the logical method of comparison. And if anyone wishes to realize the immense power of this method, lethim reflect upon the revolution which was wrought in thescience of biology when Lamarck and Cuvier began the workof comparison upon a large scale.Hence, it is that biology is eminently the science of classification; and if skill in the use of this powerful auxiliary ofthought is to be acquired , it must be sought in the compara.tive study of the vegetable and animal kingdoms. Theoretica.logic may divide and subdivide as much as it likes; butCH. IX.] PHILOSOPHY AS AN ORGANON. 245genera and species are dull and lifeless things, when contemplated merely in their places upon a logical chart. To becomecorrect reasoners, it is not enough that we should know whatclasses and sub- classes are; we should also be able skilfullyto make them. I conclude with a citation from Mr. Mill:-"Although the scientific arrangements of organic natureafford as yet the only complete example of the true principlesof rational classification, whether as to the formation ofgroups or of series, those principles are applicable to all cases.in which mankind are called upon to bring the various partsof any extensive subject into mental coordination. They areas much to the point when objects are to be classed forpurposes of art or business, as for those of science. Theproper arrangement, for example, of a code of laws dependson the same scientific conditions as the classifications innatural history; nor could there be a better preparatorydiscipline for that important function, than the study of theprinciples of a natural arrangement, not only in the abstract,but in their actual application to the class of phenomena forwhich they were first elaborated, and which are still the bestschool for learning their use. Of this, the great authority oncodification, Bentham, was perfectly aware; and his earlyFragment on Government,' the admirable introduction to aseries of writings unequalled in their department, containsclear and just views (as far as they go) on the meaning of anatural arrangement, such as could scarcely have occurred toanyone who lived anterior to the age of Linnæus and Bernardde Jussieu. " 1These illustrations will serve to give the reader some ideaof Comte's brilliant and happy contributions to the logic ofscientific inquiry. I am aware that scanty justice is done tothe subject by the condensed and abridged mode of treatment to which I have felt obliged to resort. But an exhaustive exposition and criticism of the details of the Comtean¹ System of Logic, 6th edit. , vol. ii. p. 288.246 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. I.philosophy of method does not come within the scope of thepresent work. The object of the preceding sketch is toenable the reader to realize the significance of Comte's omission of Logic from the scheme of the sciences. That omis.sion, as we may now see, was due to the fact that Comtemerged Philosophy in Logic. Or, in other words, from hispoint ofview, Philosophy is not a Synthesis, but an Organon.Nowhere in that portion of the " Philosophie Positive " whichtreats of the organization of the sciences, do we catch anyglimpse of that Cosmic conception of the scope of philosophywhich was set forth and illustrated in the second chapter ofthese Prolegomena. For according to that conception, wehave seen that philosophy is an all- comprehensive Synthesisof the doctrines and methods of science; a coherent bodyof theorems concerning the Cosmos, and concerning Man inhis relations to the Cosmos of which he is part. Now,though Comte enriched mankind with a new conception ofthe aim, the methods, and the spirit of philosophy, he nevereven attempted to construct any such coherent body oftheorems. He constructed a classification of the sciencesand a general theory of scientific methods; but he did notextract from each science that quota of general doctrineswhich it might be made to contribute toward a universaldoctrine, and then proceed to fuse these general doctrinesinto such a universal doctrine. From first to last, so far asthe integration of science is concerned, his work was logicalrather than philosophical. And here we shall do well tonote an apparent confusion between these two points of view,which occurs in Mr. Mill's essay on Comte. "The philosophyof science," says Mr. Mill, " consists of two principal parts;the methods of investigation, and the requisites of proofThe one points out the roads by which the human intellectarrives at conclusions; the other, the mode of testing theirevidence. The former, if complete, would be an Organonof Discovery; the latter, of Proof." Now I call this anCH. IX. ] PHILOSOPHY AS AN ORGANON. 247admirable definition; but it is not the definition of Philosophy, it is the definition of Logic. If we were to accept itas a definition of philosophy, we might admit that Comte constructed a philosophy; as it is, we can only admit that heconstructed a logic, or general theory of methods. In thepresent chapter we have seen how valuable were his contributions to the logic of induction. We may admit, with Mr.Mill, that he treats this subject " with a degree of perfectionhitherto unrivalled,” —save ( I should say) by Mr. Mill himself. But an Organon of Methods is one thing, and a Synthesis of Doctrines is another thing; and a system ofphilosophy which is to be regarded as a comprehensivetheory of the universe must include both. Yet Comte neverattempted any other synthesis than that wretched travestywhich, with reference to the method employed in it, is aptlyentitled " Synthèse Subjective. "Not only does Comte thus practically ignore the conceptionof philosophy as a Synthesis of the most general truths ofscience into a body of universal truths relating to theCosmos as a whole, but there is reason to believe that hadsuch a conception been distinctly brought before his mind,he would have explicitly condemned it as chimerical. Inillustration of this I shall, at the risk of apparent digression,cite one of his conspicuous shortcomings which is peculiarlyinteresting, not only as throwing light upon his intellectualhabits, but also as exemplifying the radical erroneousness ofhis views concerning the limits of philosophic inquiry. Prof.Huxley calls attention to Comte's scornful repudiation ofwhat is known as the " cell-doctrine " in anatomy and physiology. Comte characterized this doctrine as a melancholyinstance of the abuse of microscopic investigation, a chimerical attempt to refer all tissues to a single primordial tissue,formed by the unintelligible assemblage of a sort of organicmonads, which are supposed to be the ultimate units of everyliving body." Now this " chimerical doctrine " is at the248 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY, [PT. Ipresent day one of the fundamental doctrines of biology.Other instances are at hand, which Prof. Huxley has notcited. For example, Comte condemned as vain and uselessall inquiries into the origin of the human race, although, withan inconsistency not unusual with him, he was a warmadvocate of that nebular hypothesis which seeks to accountfor the origin of the solar system. As these two orders ofinquiry are philosophically precisely on a level with eachother, the former being indeed the one for which we have nowthe more abundant material, the attempted distinction is proofof the vagueness with which Comte conceived the limits ofphilosophic inquiry. But what shall we say when we findhim asserting the impossibility of a science of stellar astronomy? He tells us that we have not even the first datumfor such a science, and in all probability shall never obtainthat datum. Until we have ascertained the distance, and calHad1 It is interesting to note that disciples of Comte are still to be found, so incapable of realizing that the arbitrary dicta of their master did not consti- tute the final utterance of human science, that they oppose the Doctrine ofEvolution upon no other ground than the assumed incapacity of the human mind for dealing with origins! In a discussion held in New York some two years since on the subject of " Darwinism, ” a certain disciple of Comte observed that it was useless for man to pretend to know how he originated,when he could not ascertain the origin of anything! Nevertheless, since we do find ourselves able to point out the origin of many things, from a myth or a social observance to a freshet or the fall of an avalanche, it appearsthat our Comtist was playing upon words after the scholastic or Platonicfashion, and confounding proximate " origin, " which is a subject for science,with ultimate " origin, " which must be relegated to metaphysics.Comte carried out this principle consistently, he would never have written ais Philosophy of History, since the explanation of the social phenomena existing in any age is the determination of their mode of origin from the ocial phenomena of the preceding age. But if with the aid of historicata we may go back three thousand years, there is no reason why, with the aid of geologic, astronomic, and chemical data, we should not go back, if necessary, a thousand billion years, and investigate the origin of the earth from the solar nebula, or the origin of life from aggregations of colloidal matter. In either case, the problem is one, not of ultimate origin, but ofevolution. In neither case do we seek to account for the origin of the matterand motion which constitute the phenomenal universe, bat only to discover a formula which shall express the common characteristics of certain observed or inferred redistributions of the matter and motion already existing. Thelatter attempt is as clearly within the limits of a scientific philosophy as the former is clearly beyond them.TH. IX.] PHILOSOPHY AS AN ORGANON. 249to us.tulated the proper motion, of at least one or two fixed stars,we cannot be certain even that the law of gravitation holdsin these distant regions. And the distance of a star we shallprobably never be able even approximately to estimate. Thuswrote Comte in 1835. But events, with almost maliciousrapidity, falsified his words. In less than four years, Besselhad measured the parallax of the star 61 Cygni, -thefirst of a brilliant series of discoveries which by this timehave made the starry heavens comparatively familiar groundWhat would Comte's scorn have been, had it beensuggested to him that within a third of a century we shouldpossess many of the data for a science of stellar chemistry;that we should be able to say, for instance, that Aldebarancontains sodium, magnesium, calcium, iron, bismuth, andantimony, or that all the stars hitherto observed with thespectroscope contain hydrogen, save ẞ Pegasi and a Orionis,which apparently do not! Or what would he have said, hadit been told him that, by the aid of the same instrumentwhich now enables us to make with perfect confidencethese audacious assertions, we should be able to determinethe proper motions of stars which present no parallax! Noexample could more forcibly illustrate the rashness of prophetically setting limits to the possible future advance ofscience. Here are truths which, within the memory of youngmen, seemed wholly out of the reach of observation, butwhich are already familiar, and will soon become an oldstory.I believe it was Comte's neglect of psychological analysiswhich caused him to be thus over-conservative in acceptingnew discoveries, and over- confident in setting limits toscientific achievement. He did not clearly distinguish between the rashness of metaphysics and the well-foundedboldness of science. He was deeply impressed with thefutility of wasting time and mental energy in constructingunverifiable hypotheses; but he did not sufficiently distin-250 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY [PT. I. .guish between hypotheses which are temporarily unverifiablefrom present lack of the means of observation, and thosewhich are permanently unverifiable from the very nature ofthe knowing process. There is no ground for supposing thatComte ever thoroughly understood why we cannot know theAbsolute and the Infinite. He knew, as a matter of historicalfact, that all attempts to obtain such knowledge had miserably failed, or ended in nothing better than vain verbal wranglings; but his ignorance of psychology was so great that heprobably never knew, or cared to know, why it must necessarily be so. Had he ever once arrived at the knowledgethat the process of knowing involves the cognition of likeness, difference, and relation, and that the Absolute, aspresenting none of these elements, is trebly unknowable, hewould never have confounded purely metaphysical hypotheses with those which are only premature but are nevertheless scientific. He would have seen, for instance, that ourinability to say positively whether there are or are not livingbeings on Saturn results merely from our lack of sufficientdata for a complete induction; whereas our inability toframe a tenable hypothesis concerning matter per se resultsfrom the eternal fact that we can know nothing save underthe conditions prescribed by our mental structure. Couldwe contrive a telescope powerful enough to detect life, or theproducts of art, upon a distant planet, there is nothing in theconstitution of our minds to prevent our appropriating suchknowledge; but no patience of observation or cunning ofexperiment can ever enable us to know the merest pebble asit exists out of relation to our consciousness. Simple andobvious as this distinction appears, there is much reason tobelieve that Comte never understood it. He inveighs againstinquiries into the proximate origin of organic life in exactlythe same terms in which he condemns inquiries into theultimate origin of the universe. He could not have donethis had he perceived that the latter question is for everCH. IX.) PHILOSOPHY AS AN ORGANON. 251insoluble because it involves absolute beginning; whereasthe former is merely a question of a particular combinationof molecules, which we cannot solve at present only becausewe have not yet obtained the requisite knowledge of theinteractions of molecular forces, and of the past physicalcondition of the earth's surface. In short, he would haveseen that, while the human mind is utterly impotent inthe presence of noumena, it is well-nigh omnipotent in thepresence of phenomena. In science we may be said toadvance by geometrical progression. Here, in the fortyyears which have elapsed since Comte wrote on physicalscience, it is hardly extravagant to say that the progresshas been as great as during the seventeen hundred yearsbetween Hipparchos and Galileo. If then, in the three orfour thousand years which have elapsed since Europe beganto emerge from utter barbarism, we have reached a point atwhich we can begin to describe the chemical constitution ofa heavenly body seventy thousand million miles distant,what may not science be destined to achieve in the nextfour thousand, or forty thousand, years? We may restassured that the tale, if we could only read it, would farexcel in strangeness anything in the " Arabian Nights " orin the mystic pages of the Bollandists.But Comte did not understand all this. He, the greatoverthrower and superseder of metaphysics, did not reallyapprehend the distinction between metaphysics and science.Hence every hypothesis which went a little way beyond thelimited science of his day he wrongly stigmatized as " metaphysical. " Hence he heaped contumely upon the cell- doctrine, only three years before Schwann and Schleiden finallyestablished it. And hence, when he had occasion to observehat certain facts were not yet known, he generally added,and probably they never will be,"--though his prophecywas not seldom confuted, while yet warm from the press.KToward the close of his life, after he had become sacer252 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. PT. Idotally inclined, this tendency assumed a moral aspect.These remote and audacious inquiries into the movements ofstars, and the development of cellular tissue, and the originof species should not only be pronounced fruitless, butshould be frowned upon and discountenanced by publicopinion, as a pernicious waste of time and energy, whichmight better be devoted to nearer and more practical objects.It is a curious illustration of the effects of discipleship uponthe mind, that several of Comte's disciples-Dr. Bridgesamong others less distinguished -maintain this same opinion,for no earthly reason, I imagine, save that Comte held it.It is certainly a strange opinion for a philosopher to hold.It bears an unlovely resemblance to the prejudice of thePhilistines, that all speculation is foolish and empty whichdoes not speedily end in bread-and-butter knowledge. Whocan decide what is useful and what is useless? We are toldfirst that we shall never know the distance to a star, andsecondly that even if we could know it, the knowledgewould be useless, since human interests are at the uttermostbounded by the solar system. Three years suffice to disprove the first part of the prediction. In a little while thesecond part may also be disproved. We are told by Comtethat it makes no difference to us whether organic species arefixed or variable; and yet, as the Darwinian controversy hasshown, the decision of this question must affect from beginning to end our general conception of physiology, of psychology, and of history, as well as our estimate of theology. If't were not universally felt to be of practical consequence, itwould be argued calmly, and not with the weapons of ridiculeand the odium theologicum. But this position--the least defensible one which Comte ever occupied-may best be refutedby his own words, written in a healthier frame of mind.The most important practical results continually flow fromtheories formed purely with scientific intent, and whichhave sometimes been pursued for ages without any practicalCH. IX.]PHILOSOPHY AS AN ORGANON. 253result. A remarkable example is furnished by the beautifulresearches of the Greek geometers upon conic sections,which, after a long series of generations, have renovatedthe science of astronomy, and thus brought the art of navigation to a pitch of perfection which it could never havereached but for the purely theoretic inquiries of Archimedesand Apollonios. As Condorcet well observes, the sailor,whom an exact calculation of longitude preserves from shipwreck, owes his life to a theory conceived, two thousandyears ago, by men of genius who were thinking of nothingbut lines and angles." This is the true view; and we neednot fear that the scientific world will ever adopt any other.That inborn curiosity which, according to the Hebrew legend,has already made us like gods, knowing good and evil, willcontinue to inspire us until the last secret of Nature is laidbare; and doubtless, in the untiring search, we shall uncovermany priceless jewels, in places where we least expected tofind them.The foregoing examples will suffice to illustrate the vagueness with which Comte conceived the limits of scientific andof philosophic inquiry. I have here cited them, not so muchfor the sake of exhibiting Comte's mental idiosyncrasies, asfor the sake of emphasizing the radical difference betweenhis conception of the scope of philosophy and the conceptionupon which the Cosmic Philosophy is founded. In givingto Comte the credit which he deserves, for having heraldeda new era of speculation in which philosophy should bebuilt up entirely out of scientific materials, we must notforget that his conception of the kind of philosophy thus tobe built up was utterly and hopelessly erroneous. Thoughhe insisted upon the all-important truth that philosophy issimply a higher organization of scientific doctrines andmethods, he fell into the error of regarding philosophymerely as a logical Organon of the sciences, and he neverframed the conception of philosophy as a Universal Science254 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. IT. I.in which the widest truths obtainable by the several sciencesare contemplated together as corollaries of a single ultimatetruth. Not only did he never frame such a conception, butthere can be no doubt that, had it ever been presented tohim in all its completeness, he would have heaped opprobrium upon it as a metaphysical conception utterly foreignto the spirit of Positive Philosophy. We have just seen himresolutely setting his face against those very scientific speculations to which this conception of the scope of philosophyewes its origin; and we need find no difficulty in believingDr. Bridges when he says that the Doctrine of Evolutionwould have appeared to his master quite as chimerical as thetheories by which Thales and other Greek cosmogonists" sought to deduce all things from the principle of Wateror of Fire."Thus in a way that one would hardly have anticipated, wehave disclosed a fundamental and pervading difference between the Positive and the Cosmic conceptions of philosophy.The apparently subordinate inquiry into Comte's reasons forexcluding Logic from his scheme of sciences, has elicited ananswer which gravely affects our estimate of his wholesystem of thought. That his conception of Philosophy asan Organon was a noble conception, there is no doubt; butthat it was radically different from our conception of Philosophy as a Synthesis, is equally undeniable. But the fulldepth and significance of this distinction will only be appreciated when, in the following chapter, we shall have pointedout the end or purpose for which this scientific Organon wasdevised.CHAPTER XCOSMISM AND POSITIVISM.TOWARD the close of the chapter on " Phenomenon andNoumenon," I observed that it has become customary toidentify with Positivism every philosophy which rejects allontological speculation, which seeks its basis in the doctrinesand methods of science, and which is accordingly arrangedin opposition to the current mythologies. The confusion isone which, after having once been originated, it is easy tomaintain but exceedingly difficult to do away with; since onthe one hand, it is manifestly convenient for the theologianto fasten upon every new and obnoxious set of doctrinesthe odium already attaching to quasi-atheistic Positivism;while on the other hand, the disciples of Comte are notunnaturally eager to claim for themselves every kind ofmodern thinking that can by any colourable pretext beannexed to their own province. The theological magazinewriter, who perhaps does not know what is meant by theRelativity of Knowledge but feels that there is something tobe dreaded in Mr. Mansel's negations, finds an excellentsubstitute for intelligent criticism in the insinuation thatthis doctrine of relativity is a device of the Positivists,who refuse to admit the existence of God, and worshipHumanity " symbolized as a woman of thirty, with a child256 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Lin her arms. " In similar wise the ardent disciple of Comte—who, sʊ far as my experience goes, is not unlikely to bequite as narrow- minded as any theologian -is wont to claimall contemporary scientific thinkers as the intellectual offspring of his master, until their openly expressed dissenthas reduced him to the alternative of stigmatizing them" metaphysical;" very much as the Pope lays claim tothe possession of all duly baptized Christians,¹ save thosewhom it has become necessary to excommunicate and giveover to the Devil.But aside from these circ*mstances, which partly explainthe popular tendency to classify all scientific thinkers asPositivists, it is not to be denied that there are reallyplausible reasons why the Positive Philosophy shouldcurrently be regarded as representative of that whole genusof contemporary thinking which repudiates the subjectivemethod, and, as Mr. Spencer says, " prefers proved facts tosuperstitions." As I have already shown, it was Comte whofirst inaugurated a scheme of philosophy explicitly basedupon the utter rejection of anthropomorphism and the adoption of none but scientific doctrines and methods. I havealready pointed out how great are our obligations to him forthis important work, and I need not repeat the acknowledgment. For this reason it is obvious that whenever thetheological thinker encounters a system which as far aspossible rejects anthropomorphic interpretations, and whenever the metaphysician encounters a system which deniesthe validity of his subjective method, both the one and theother will quite naturally regard this system as some phazeof Positivism. For the same reason, when we remember howstrong is the tendency to " read between the lines " of anysystem of thought and thus to interpret it in accordance withour pre-conceptions, we shall see how easy it is for those who1 See the amusing letter of Pius IX. to the Emperor of Germany, dated August 7th, 1873.JH. X.] COSMISM AND POSITIVISM. 257first derived from Comte their notions of scientific methodand of the limits of philosophic inquiry, to " read into " hissystem all the later results of their intellectual experience,and thus to persist in regarding the whole as PositivePhilosophy. Of this tendency it seems to me that we havean illustrious example in Mr. Lewes, the learned historian ofphilosophy and acute critic of Kant, who in the latest editionof his " History " still maintains that the agreement betweenComte and Spencer is an agreement in fundamentals, whilethe differences between them are non- essential differences.That I am not incapable of understanding and sympathizingwith this tendency, may be inferred from the fact that duringeleven years I espoused the same plausible error, and calledmyself a Positivist (though never a follower of Comte) in thesame breath in which I defended doctrines that are utterlyincompatible with Positivism in any legitimate sense of theword. So long as we allow our associations with the words tocolour and distort our scrutiny of the things-a besetting sinof human philosophizing, from which none of us can hopeto have entirely freed himself-so long it is possible for us toConstruct an apparently powerful argument in behalf of thefundamental agreement between Spencer and Comte.Itmay be said, for example, that both philosophers agree inEsserting:I. That all knowledge is relative;II. That all unverifiable hypotheses are inadmissible;III. That the evolution of philosophy, whatever else itmay be, has been a process of deanthropomorphization;IV. That philosophy is a coherent organization of scientific doctrines and methods;V. That the critical attitude of philosophy is not destructive but constructive, not iconoclastic but conservative,not negative but positive.Still confining our attention to the form of these proposiions, and neglecting for the moment the very differentVOL I.258 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Lmeanings with which they would be enunciated respectivelyby the Cosmist and by the Positivist, it is open to us tomaintain that, in asserting these propositions, Mr. Spenceragrees with Comte in asserting the five cardinal theorems ofPositive Philosophy. Looking at the matter in this light,we might complain that Mr. Spencer, in his " Reasons forDissenting, etc.,” accentuates the less fundamental points inwhich he differs from Comte, and passes without emphasisthe more fundamental points in which he agrees with Comte.We might urge that while the " Law of the Three Stages " isundoubtedly incorrect, nevertheless the essential point is thatmen's conceptions of Cause have been becoming ever less andless anthropomorphic. And similarly, when Mr. Spencerinsists that Comte has not classified the sciences correctly,we might reply that, if we were to question M. Littré ( whostill holds to the chief positions of the Comtean classification), he would perforce admit that the fundamental point—the ground-question, as Germans say-is not whether physicscomes after astronomy, or whether biology is an abstractscience, but whether or not the sciences can be made tofurnish all the materials for a complete and unified conceptionof the world.In this statement of the case, which once seemed to mesatisfactory, we have probably the strongest argument thatcan be devised in favour of the identification of Mr. Spencer'sphilosophy with Positivism. Yet, as above hinted, and aswill be self- evident to everyone who has comprehended theforegoing chapters, its apparent strength rests entirely uponthe verbal ambiguity of the five cardinal propositions, whichare stated in such a way as to conceal the real points at issuebetween the two philosophies. With regard to the first twopropositions, I have already shown that they are in nowise sopeculiar to Comte that allegiance to them should make ushis disciples or coadjutors. In accepting the Doctrine ofRelativity, as well as in receiving from modern science theCH. X.] COSMISM AND POSITIVISM. 259Inheritance of the Objective Method, we are the "heirs ofall the ages," and are in nowise especially beholden to Comte.As regards the fifth proposition, concerning the criticalattitude of philosophy, the discussion of it does not belongto our Prolegomena but to our Corollaries, since before wecan comprehend it we must make sure that we understandwhat is implied by the Doctrine of Evolution. In the concluding chapter of this work it will appear that our dissentfrom Positivism is practically no less emphatic in respect tothe critical attitude of philosophy than in other respects.For the present we can willingly dispense with this proo , asour point will be quite sufficiently established by an examination of the third and fourth propositions above alleged ascardinal alike to Positivism and to Cosmism.And first, as regards the fourth proposition, the precedingchapter showed that Comte's conception of the scope andfunctions of philosophy was by no means the same as thatwhich lies at the bottom of the present work. We haveseen that he treated philosophy as merely an Organon ofscientific methods, and totally ignored the conception oíphilosophy as a Synthesis of truths concerning the Cosmos.Now in order to comprehend the full purport of this, wemust ask what was Comte's aim in constructing a system ofphilosophy? To what end was this elaborate Organon devised!It was not devised for the purpose of aiding the systematicexploration of nature in all directions, for we have seen thatComte began by discouraging and ended by anathematizinga large class of most important inquiries, chiefly on theground of their " vainness " or " inutility." To understandthe purpose of all this admirable treatment of philosophyas an Organon, we must take into account the statement ofDr. Bridges that Comte's philosophic aims were not differentin his later epoch from what they had been in the earlierpart of his career. From the very outset Comte intended tocrown his work of reorganizing philosophy by constructing8 2260 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [FT. La polity which should be competent to reorganize society.The belief that society can be regenerated by philosophyis a belief which underlies all his speculations from first tolast. His aims were as practical as those of Saint- Simonand Fourier, the difference being chiefly that these unscientific dreamers built their utopias upon abstract theoriesof human nature, while Comte sought to found his polityupon the scientific study of the actual tendencies of humanityas determined by its past history. In a future chapter Ishall have occasion to show that this whole attempt ofComte's was based upon a profound misconception of thetrue state of the case. For the present we need only observethat with Comte the construction of a Philosophy meantultimately the construction of a Sociology, to which all hiselaborate systematization of scientific methods was intendedto be ancillary. Why must we study observation in astronomy, experiment in physics and chemistry, comparison inbiology? In order, says Comte, to acquire the needfulmental training for sound theorizing in sociology. To himthe various physical sciences were not sources from whichgrand generalizations were to be derived, embracing theremotest and most subtle phenomena of the Universe; theywere whetstones upon which to grind the logical implementsto be used in constructing a theory of Humanity. All othertheorizing was to be condemned, save in so far as it couldbe shown to be in some way subservient to this purpose.Thus Comte's conception of philosophy was throughout anthropocentric, and he utterly ignored the cosmic point ofview. There can be little doubt that he who, in 1830,rejected the development-theory, which a more prescientthinker, like Goethe, was enthusiastically proclaiming, wouldhave scorned as chimerical and useless Mr. Spencer's theoryof evolution. We may now begin to see why Comte wishedto separate Man from the rest of the organic creation, andwhy he was so eager to condemn sidereal astronomy, theCH. X.] COSMISM AND POSITIVISM. 261study of which tends in one sense to dwarf our conceptionsof Humanity. Comte was indeed too much of an astronomerto retreat upon the Ptolemaic theory, but in his later works heshows symptoms of a feeling like that which actuated Hegel,when he openly regretted the overthrow of the ancient astronomy, because it was more dignified for man to occupy thecentre of the universe! It is true that, in his first greatwork, Comte points out the absurdity of the theological viewof man's supremacy in the universe, and rightly ascribes tothe Copernican revolution a considerable share in the overthrowing of this view, and of the doctrine of final causes,with which it is linked. In spite of all this, however, andin spite of his admirable scientific preparation, Comte's conception of philosophy as the summary of a hierarchy ofsciences, presided over by sociology, led him irresistiblytoward the anthropocentric point of view; and so, when itbecame necessary for him to crown his work by indicatingits relations to religion, he arrived, logically enough, at aReligion of Humanity, although in order to reach such aterminus he was obliged to throw his original Positivismoverboard and follow the subjective method. In view thenof all this complicated difference between the Positivist conception of philosophy and the conception expounded in thiswork, I think we are quite justified in designating our ownconception by a different and characteristic name.But the most fatal and irreconcilable divergence appearswhen we come to consider the third cardinal proposition, -that which relates to deanthropomorphization. If we inquirehow it was that Comte was enabled to perpetrate, in thename of philosophy, such a prodigious piece of absurdity asthe deification of Humanity, we shall find the explanation tolie in his misconception of what is meant by the relativityof knowledge. A good illustration of his confused thinkingon this subject, to which I have already had occasion toefer, is afforded by his treatment of atheism. Comte had263 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Lno patience with atheists, because of the chiefly negativeand destructive character of the atheistic philosophy dominant in the eighteenth century. But when he lets us intohis philosophic reasons for rejecting atheism, we find himcomplaining of the atheists, not because of their denial ofDeity, nor because their doctrine contravenes the relativity ofknowledge, but because they indulge in " metaphysical attempts to explain the origin of life upon the earth's surface." (!) On reading such passages, it becomes sufficientlyevident that Comte did not really understand why metaphysical inquiries are illegitimate, but rejected them verymuch as the general reader might reject them, because theymuddled his mind; and we may acknowledge the justice ofProf. Huxley's sarcasm, that "metaphysics " is, with Comte a"general terin of abuse for anything that he does not like. "Certain it is that Comte never understood the true import ofthe doctrine of relativity, as it is stated in our fourth chapter,—that there exists an Unknowable Reality, of which all phenomena, as presented in consciousness, are the knowablemanifestations. As I have already observed, his most illustrious follower, M. Littré, unreservedly stigmatizes as " metaphysical " this very doctrine of the Unknowable, upon whichthe Cosmic Philosophy bases its rejection of metaphysics.Had Comte ever understood this doctrine, he would neitherhave sought to impose upon us a phenomenal God, in theform of idealized Humanity, nor would he have virtuallyabandoned his original Positivism in the wild attempt to"regenerate " the subjective method. All these things showthat Comte never really fathomed the distinction betweenmetaphysics and science; and as the final outcome of allthis complicated misconception, we find him, in his famous" Law of the Three Stages," setting forth as the goal of allspeculative progress a state or habitude of mind which neverhas existed and which never can exist. Herein the antagonism between Cosmism and Positivism becomes so fundaDE. L.] COSMISM AND POSITIVISM. 263mental as to outweigh all minor points of agreement, evenwere the points of agreement ten times as numerous as theyare. For since we deny that the Positive mode of philosophizing, implying the recognition of nothing beyond thecontents of observed facts, is a practicable mode at all, it isclear that we cannot, save by the utter distortion and perversion of human speech, be classified as Positivists.Casting aside, then, our third and fourth cardinal propositions, temporarily assumed for the purpose of emphasizingthis rejection of them, we may briefly restate as follows thefundamental issue between Cosmism and Positivism.We have seen that Comte discerned the fact that therehas been a continuous progress in men's conceptions, ofwhich the chief symptom has been deanthropomorphization,and of which the result must be the destruction of ontology.He also discerned the fact, that after giving up ontology, itis still possible to build up a philosophy out of materialsfurnished by the sciences. We have freely admitted that, ineach of these cases, the step taken by Comte was sufficientto work a revolution in the attitude of philosophy; and wemay add that, by virtue of this twofold advance, Comte wasjustified in calling his system of philosophy " positive,” incontrast with the absolutely sceptical or " negative " philosophy of the eighteenth century.But, while admitting all this, we have also seen thatComte supposed the terminal phase of deanthropomorphiration to consist in the ignoring of an Absolute Power manifested in the world of phenomena; and that he regardedphilosophy merely as an Organon of scientific methods anddoctrines useful in constructing a theory of Humanity andA social Polity. On the other hand, the Cosmic Philosophyis founded upon the recognition of an Absolute Power manifested in and through the world of phenomena; and itconsists in a Synthesis of scientific truths into a UniversalScience dealing with the order of the phenomenal mani-264 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Ifestations of the Absolute Power. And manifestly thesedifferences between the two systems of philosophy constitutean antagonism which is fundamental and irreconcilable. Ifthe Positivist conception of philosophy be true, then thework which I am now writing is founded upon a baselessmetaphysical fallacy; and conversely it is impossible toaccept the doctrine expounded in this work, without ipsafacto declaring the main position of Positivism to be untenable.I shall hereafter have occasion to examine the views concerning Psychology, Sociology, Religion, and Practice, whichare characteristic of the Positive Philosophy; and, as heretofore, while dissenting from those views in every instance, Ishall have no hesitation in acknowledging their merits or inassigning a full meed of homage to the great thinker bywhom they were propounded. But while my dissent uponall these points will serve to emphasize and illustrate thefundamental dissent declared in these Prolegomena, it will notbe needful again to demonstrate in detail that we are notadherents of the Positive Philosophy. With thrice- reiterated argument, and at the risk of wearying the reader,it has now been made sufficiently evident that Cosmism andPositivism, far from being identical or identifiable with eachother, are in a certain sense the two opposite poles ofscientific philosophizing. And in virtue of this demonstrated antagonism, the divergences hereafter to be signalizedwill appear not merely as easily intelligible but even asà priori inevitable.CHAPTER XITHE QUESTION STATED.We have now accomplished our preliminary task of definingand illustrating the scope and methods of Cosmic Philosophy,and are prepared to begin the work of constructing a theoryof the universe out of the elements which science canfurnish. It will accordingly become necessary for us to passin review the sciences systematized in the eighth chapter,that we may be enabled to contemplate the widest truthswhich they severally reveal, as corollaries of some ultimatetruth. In undertaking this task, there are two oppositecourses, either of which we might pursue, though withdiffering degrees and kinds of success. On the one hand, wemight begin with a survey of the concrete sciences; andhaving ascertained the most general truths respectivelyformulated by astronomy, geology, biology, psychology, andsociology, we might interpret all these truths in common bymerging them all in a single widest generalization concerningthe concrete universe as a whole; and lastly, through ananalysis of this widest generalization we might seek theultimate axiom by which the validity of our conclusions iscertified. Or, on the other hand, we might begin by searchingdirectly for this ultimate axiom; and having found it , wemight proceed to deduce from it that widest generalization266 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Lwhich interprets the most general truths severally formulatedby the concrete sciences; and finally, by the help of theseuniversal principles, we might perhaps succeed in elicitingsundry generalizations concerning particular groups ofconcrete phenomena which might otherwise escape ourscrutiny.itThe latter, or synthetic method of procedure, is muchbetter adapted for our present purpose than the former, oranalytic method. Indeed the mass of phenomena with whichwe are required to deal is so vast and so heterogeneous, thevarious generalizations which we are required to interpret incommon are apparently so little related to one another, thatmay well be doubted if the appliances of simple inductionand analysis would ever suffice to bring us within sight of ourprescribed goal. The history of scientific discovery affordsnumerous illustrations -and nowhere more convincingly thanin the sublime chapter which tells the triumph of theNewtonian astronomy-of the comparative helplessness ofmere induction where the phenomena to be explained arenumerous and complicated. A simple tabulation and analysisof the planetary movements would never have disclosed,even to Newton's penetrating gaze, the law of dynamics towhich those movements conform. But in these complicatedcases, where induction has remained hopelessly embarrassed,the most brilliant success has often resulted from the adoption of a hypothesis by which the phenomena have beendeductively interpreted, and which has been uniformlycorroborated by subsequent inductions. The essentialrequisite in such an hypothesis is that it must have beenframed in rigorous conformity to the requirements of theobjective method. It must be based upon properties ofmatter or principles of dynamics that have previously beenestablished or fully confirmed by induction; it must appealto no unknown agency, nor invoke any unknown attribute ofmatter or motion; and it must admit ultimately of inductiveDE . XI. ] THE QUESTION STATED. 267verification. Such a hypothesis, in short, is admissible onlywhen it contains no unverifiable element. And of hypothesesframed in accordance with these rigorous requirements, thesurest mark of genuineness is usually that they are not onlyuniformly verified by the phenomena which first suggestedthem, but also help us to the detection of other relationsamong phenomena which would otherwise have remainedhidden from us.In conformity, then, to these requirements of scientificmethod, our course is clearly marked out for us. We havefirst to search, among truths already indisputably established,for that ultimate truth which must underlie our Synthesis ofscientific truths. We have next to show how the widestgeneralization which has yet been reached concerning theconcrete universe as a whole, may be proved to follow, as aninevitable corollary, from this ultimate truth. This widestgeneralization will thus appear, in the light of our demonstration, as a legitimate hypothesis, which we may verify byshowing that the widest generalizations severally obtainablein the concrete sciences are included in it and receive theircommon interpretation from it. Throughout the earlier partof this special verification, in which we shall be called uponto survey the truths furnished respectively by astronomy,geology, biology, and psychology, I shall follow closely in thefootsteps of Mr. Spencer, who has already elaboratelyllustrated these truths in the light of the Doctrine ofEvolution. When we arrive at sociology -still followingMr. Spencer's guidance, but venturing into a region which hehas as yet but cursorily and fragmentarily surveyed for usI shall endeavour to show that our main hypothesis presentsthe strongest indications of its genuineness by affording abrilliant interpretation of sundry social phenomena neverbefore grouped together under a general law. This interpretation I shall then seek further to verify by showing how itincludes and justifies whatever is defensible in the generaliza-268 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. L•tions which such writers as Comte and Buckle have obtainedfrom an inductive survey of the facts of human history.Finally I shall apply our central hypothesis to the specialproblem of the Origin of Man, and show how, from itsmarvellous success in dealing with the difficult questions ofintellectual and moral progressiveness, the Doctrine ofEvolution must be pronounced to have sustained the severesttest of verification which our present scientific resourcesenable us to apply upon this great scale. With this mostsignificant and interesting inquiry, our Synthesis of scientificdoctrines will be completed. Such ultimate questions asmust inevitably be suggested on our route-questions concerning the relations of the Doctrine of Evolution to Religionand Ethics-will be considered, with the help of the generalprinciples then at our command, in the Corollaries which areto follow.At present, however, we are not at the goal, but at thestarting-point of this arduous course; and our attentionmust first be directed to the search for that ultimate axiomupon which our Synthesis must rest. Where now shall webegin? In what class of sciences are we to look for ourprimordial principle? The above survey of our projected course has already assured us that we need not search for itamong the concrete sciences. Obviously the widest proposition which can possibly be furnished by astronomy, or biology,or any other concrete science, cannot be wide enough tounderlie a Synthesis of all the sciences. The most generaltheorems of biology are not deducible from the most generaltheorems of astronomy; nor vice versa. But the most generaltheorems of each concrete science are ultimately deduciblefrom theorems lying outside the region of concrete science.Where shall we find such theorems? If we turn to thepurely abstract sciences-logic and mathematics-we shallget but little help. Useful as these sciences are, as enginesof investigation, they do not contain what we are nowDE . TI] THE QUESTION STATED. 269looking for. Obviously mathematics, dealing only withrelations of number, form, and magnitude, cannot supply theultimate principle from which may be deduced such phenomena as the condensation of a nebula, the segmentation ofan ovum, or the development of a tribal community. Tobuild a system of philosophy upon any possible theorem ofmathematics, would only be to repeat, after twenty- fourcenturies, the errors of Pythagoras. And the helplessness ofabstract logic, for our purposes, is too manifest to need illustration.Let us then turn to the abstract- concrete sciences; for inthe widest generalizations at which these sciences have jointlyarrived we must find, if anywhere, the theorem which wedesire. I say " jointly," for in the deepest sense the subjectmatter is the same, in molar physics, in molecular physics,and in chemistry. All three sciences deal, in one way oranother, with the most general laws of those redistributionsof matter and motion which are continually going onthroughout the knowable universe. The first deals with themovements of masses; the second deals with movements ofmolecules, and with the laws of aggregation of moleculesthat are hom*ogeneous; the third deals with the laws ofa*ggregation of molecules that are heterogeneous. In eitherLase the phenomena dealt with are movements of matter,whether movements of translation through space, or moveents of undulation among molecules, or movements whoseconspicuous symptom is change of physical state or ofchemical constitution. The widest theorems, therefore,which the three abstract- concrete sciences can unite inaffirming, must be universal propositions concerning Matterand Motion.Obviously it is in this region of science that we must lookfor our primordial theorem. But little reflection is neededto convince us that all the truths attainable by the concretesciences must ultimately rest upon truths relating to the270 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. 1movements of matter. It is with the movements, actual orinferred, of certain specific masses of matter, that astronomyin both its branches is concerned. Movements of matter,likewise, in a specific region of the universe, and underspecific conditions characteristic of this region, constitutethe facts about which geology speculates. We need butremember that nutrition is at bottom merely a process inwhich certain molecules shift their positions, and that thelife of an organism is simply a long-continued series ofadjustments and readjustments among mutually-related andmutually-influencing systems of aggregated molecules, inorder to see that the fundamental laws of the movements ofmatter must underlie biology also. And although thephenomena of mind-whether manifested in individuals orin communities -cannot be explained as movements ofmatter; yet, as will be hereafter shown, there is no mentalphenomenon which does not involve, as its material correlate,some chemical change in nerve- tissue consisting in a redistribution of molecules; so that in psychology and sociologylikewise, our conclusions must become ultimately implicatedwith theorems concerning matter and motion. Thus in everydepartment of concrete science, the leading problem is insome way or other, either directly or indirectly or veryremotely, concerned with distributions and redistributionsof matter and motion; and in all our specific conclusionssome general conclusion relating to movements of mattermust be directly or indirectly or very remotely involved.Our course is thus still more definitely marked out. Wemust first search for the deepest attainable truth respectingmatter and motion abstractly considered. We must pursuethis truth and its corollaries, among the most general groupsof phenomena in which these corollaries are exemplified,until we arrive at some concrete result concerning the mostgeneral aspects of that redistribution of matter and motionwhich is everywhere going on. And upon this concreteOH. XI.] THE QUESTION STATED. 271result we shall find that universal generalization to be based,the validity of which we have afterwards to certify by itsagreement with inductions drawn from the several groups ofphenomena with which the concrete sciences deal.Here, before proceeding further, we may fitly pause for amoment, to relieve a puzzling doubt which may ere this havedisturbed the mind of the reader. Did we not elaboratelyprove, in our opening chapter, that concerning the movements of molecules and their aggregation into masses. notonly nothing can be known, but no tenable hypothesis canbe framed? Did we not, with full knowledge of whatwe were doing, hang up as the very sign- board of ourOpоvτioτýρLov or philosophy- shop, the proposition that allthat either sense or reason can tell us concerning the intimate structure of a block of wood is utterly and hopelesslydelusive? Did we not show that the hypothesis of attractiveand repulsive forces lands us straightway in an insolublecontradiction? Did we not find it impossible to get rid ofthe difficulties which surround the conception of an atom ora molecule, whether regarded as divisible or as indivisible?And did we not conclude that the conception of matteracting upon matter is a pseud- conception which can by noeffort be construed in consciousness?-Yet in spite of allthis, it may be said, we are about to base the entire followingSynthesis upon preliminary conclusions relating to the movements of molecules and their aggregation into masses; weare likely to draw inferences from the assumed intimatestructure of certain bodies; we have inevitably to make useof the hypothesis of attractive and repulsive forces; weshall constantly have tacit reference to the conception ofatoms and molecules; and we shall be obliged to takeaccount of matter as constrained in its movements by otherneighbouring matter. Is there not here, it may be asked, areductio ad absurdum, either of the Synthesis which is tofollow, or of the initial arguments upon which the claims of272 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. PT. 1such a Synthesis to stand for the whole of attainable philosophy were partly based?I state this dilemma as strongly as possible, because itforcibly illustrates the omnipresence of Mystery, —because itshows how, beneath every physical problem , there lies ametaphysical problem whereof no human cunning can detectthe solution. Practically, however, the avenue of escape hassometime since been implicitly indicated,-in the fifth andsixth chapters of these Prolegomena. In the chapter onCausation it was shown that, though we can in nowiseconceive matter as acting upon matter, yet, for the purposesof common- sense, of science and of philosophy, it is quiteenough that one kind of phenomenal manifestation is invariably and unconditionally succeeded by some other kindof phenomenal manifestation. And in characterizing theSubjective and Objective Methods, we saw that the truth ofany proposition, for scientific purposes, is determined by itsagreement with observed phenomena, and not by its congruity with some assumed metaphysical basis. For example,the entire Newtonian astronomy-the most elaborate andfinished scientific achievement of the human mind- rests upona hypothesis which, if metaphysically interpreted, is simplyinconceivable. The conception of matter attracting matterthrough an intervening tract of emptiness is a conceptionwhich it is impossible to frame,-and Newton knew it, orfelt it to be so. But nowhere did his unrivalled wisdomshow itself more impressively than in this, that he accurately discriminated between the requirements of scienceand the requirements of metaphysics, and clearly saw that,while metaphysics is satisfied with nothing short of absolutesubjective congruity, it is quite enough for a scientific hypothesis that it gives a correct description of the observedcoexistences and sequences among phenomena.¹ In truth,1 This is distinctly stated by Copernicus: " Neque enim necesse est eas hypotheses esse veras, imo ne verisimile quidem, sed sufficit hoc unum, siCH. XI. ] THE QUESTION STATED. 273for scientific purposes, we are no more required to conceivethe action of matter upon matter in the case of gravitationthan in any other case of physical causation. All that thehypothesis really asserts is that matter, in the presence ofother matter, will alter its space-relations in a specified way;and there is no reference whatever to any metaphysicalocculta vis which passes from matter in one place to matterin another place.There is, however, no good ground for objecting to theuse of the phrase " attraction," provided it be employed onlyas a scientific artifice . There is a certain sense in whichscience, as well as legal practice, has its " fictions " that areeminently useful. The lines and circles with which geometrydeals have nothing answering to them in nature; and theanalyst employs a " scientific fiction " when he deals withinfinitesimals, since it is impossible to conceive a quantityless than any assignable quantity. In like manner, there isnothing objectionable in using language which assimilatesthe case of a planet revolving about the sun to the case of astone whirled at the end of a string; for there is realsimilarity between the phenomena. So if the science ofchemistry had been obliged to wait until all the metaphysicaldifficulties which encompass the conception of a molecule oran atom had been cleared away, it might well have waiteduntil the end of the world. Quite likely the " atom " inchemistry is as much a " scientific fiction " as the "infinitesimal " in algebra: but we cannot therefore complain ofthe chemist for assigning to it shape and dimensions, provided he makes a scientific and not a metaphysical use ofthe artifice. In the region of science such a fiction is nomore illegitimate than that fiction in the region of commonsense by which I judge this writing-table to be solid, while,for aught I know to the contrary, the empty spaces betweenalculum bservationibus congruentem exhibeant. "-See Lewes, Aristotle,p. 92; Problems of Life and Mind, vol. i. p. 317.VOL. L. T274 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Lits particles may be as much greater than the particles as theinterstellar spaces are greater than the stars. We need haveno hesitation, therefore, in dealing with the aggregations ofatoms and molecules, afterthe manner of the chemicalphilosopher, or with attractive and repulsive forces, after themanner of the physicist, so long as we take care that thesubstance of our propositions has reference only to verifiablecoexistences and sequences among phenomena.Another possible difficulty may be now more summarilydisposed of. If it be urged that to frame a " generalizationconcerning the concrete universe as a whole " is manifestlyto transgress the limits of sound philosophizing, since wecan never know but a tiny portion of the concrete universe,and can never even know how much there is that lies beyondour ken; if such an objection be urged against the undertaking planned in the present chapter, we may again appealto Newton as witness in our favour. The law of gravitationis expressed in terms that are strictly universal, —termswhich imply that wherever matter exists, be it a milliontimes more remote than the outermost limit of telescopicvision, the phenomena of gravitation must be manifested.Comte, indeed, questioned the legitimacy of extending thegeneralization beyond the limits of the solar system. Buthis doubt, which facts so soon refuted, was based on inadequate knowledge of the psychological aspect of the case,Newton's hypothesis simply detected and generalized themode of manifestation of one of those properties by virtueof which matter is matter; and he was justified, accordingto the principles laid down in our third chapter, in basinga universal proposition upon a single instance. The finaltest of the presence of matter is the manifestation of thegravitative tendency; and such must be the case so long aswe are unable to transcend experience. As I before observed,it is quite possible that there may be worlds in whichnumerical limitations like ours are not binding, and so it isC. XI. ] THE QUESTION STATED. 275very possible that there may be worlds in which there isneither matter nor gravity. But any such possible worlds,standing entirely out of relation to our experience, arepractically non-existent for a philosophy which is based onthe organization of experience.Now, though the law of evolution is not, like the law ofgravitation, the generalization of a property of matter, it isstill the generalization of certain concrete results of knownproperties of matter. And the universality which in thefollowing chapters will be claimed for this generalization, isprecisely like the universality claimed for the law of gravitation. The law of evolution professes to formulate theessential characteristics of a ceaseless redistribution ofmatter and motion that must go on wherever matter andmotion possess the attributes by which we know them. InMr. Mill's hypothetical world where two and two makefive, the law of evolution may not hold sway. But withinthe limits of our experience, the law is a " generalizationconcerning the concrete universe as a whole; " and ifit be satisfactorily verified, we shall have achieved thatorganization of scientific truths into a coherent body ofdoctrine, which has been shown to be the legitimate aim ofPhilosophy.Here in conclusion we may again call attention to thesignificance of the phrase by which I have designated thekind of philosophy that is expounded in this work. Wemay reiterate the statement, which has already been illustratedfrom various points of view, that our philosophy is peculiarlyentitled to the name of Cosmic Philosophy. For while itmay be urged that earlier philosophies have also been cosmic,in so far as they have sought to offer some explanation of theuniverse, on the other hand it must be acknowledged thatnever before has the business of philosophy, regarded as atheory of the universe, been undertaken with so clear anddistinct a conception of its true scope and limitations.T 2276 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. LThough other thinkers, before Mr. Spencer, may have generalized about the concrete universe as a whole, it cannot bedenied that he has been the first to frame a verifiable hypothesis upon this stupendous scale. The law of evolutionis the first generalization concerning the concrete universeas a whole, which has been framed in conscious conformityto the rigorous requirements of the objective method, andwhich has therefore served to realize the prophetic dreamof Bacon, by presenting Philosophy as an organism ofwhich the various sciences are members. Obviously asystem which has achieved, or consciously sought to achieve,such a result, is entitled par excellence to the name ofCosmic Philosophy. It has been the first to give practicalrealization to that sublime thought of two master minds,which I have inscribed at the head of this work:-"To a thinker capable of comprehending it from a singlepoint of view, the universe would present but a single fact,but one all-comprehensive truth; and it is for this reasonthat we call it Cosmos, and not chaos.”PART IISYNTHESIS.Je unvollkommener das Geschöpf ist, desto mehr sind diese Thellaeinander gleich oder ähnlich, und desto mehr gleichen sie dem Ganzen. Jevollkommener das Geschöpf wird, desto unähnlicher werden die Theileeinander. Je ähnlicher die Theile einander sind, desto weniger sind sieeinander subordinirt. Die subordination der Theile deutet auf ein vollCommneres Geschöpf. "-GOETHE, Zur Morphologie. 1807-

CHAPTER LMATTER, MOTION, AND FORCE.In the third book of the " Philosophie Positive, " Comteobserves that it can hardly be by accident that the word"Physics," which originally denoted the study of the wholeof nature, should have become restricted to that science whichdeals with the most abstract and general laws of the rearrangement of Matter and Motion. This is one of themany profound remarks scattered through Comte's writings,the full significance of which he could hardly himself haverealized. For it will now appear-as the preceding chaptertaught us to expect that the study of Physics (includingunder that name, for the moment, the three abstract-concretesciences) underlies the study of the whole of nature, anddiscloses those universal truths upon which a Synthesis ofthe widest truths disclosed by the concrete sciences mustrepose. It investigates the general phenomena of matter,motion, and force; while the concrete sciences investigate99 66 For immediately afterwards we find Comte basing the organic sciences upon physics, but excluding astronomy, which he calls an 'emanation frommathematics. ' It is indeed difficult to see how astronomy, which involvesthe physical ideas of matter, motion, and force, can be an emanation from mathematics, which involves only the purely abstract ideas of space and number. In fact, as above shown ( part i . chap. viii. ), astronomy, no lessthan the other concrete sciences, is dependent upon physics. Here, asalsewhere, Comte was misled by his serial arrangement.280 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY [PT. II..these phenomena as manifested in particular groups of aggregates. The primordial axiom, upon which our syntheticstudy of the universe must be founded, is one which is disclosed by the analytic study ofthe movements of masses andmolecules. And thus the three-fold classification of thesciences, by which we found it necessary to replace thesimple linear classification of Comte, will find itself practically justified in the very first step which we take towardthe organization of scientific truths into a system of CosmicPhilosophy.For at the bottom alike of molar physics, of molecularphysics, and of chemistry, there lie, in fact, two universalpropositions, the one relating to Matter, the other relatingto Motion. These are the familiar propositions that Matteris indestructible, and that Motion is continuous. Upon thetruth of this pair of closely- related propositions depends thevalidity of every conclusion to which chemistry or eitherbranch of physics can attain. If, instead of dealing withunalterable quantities and weights, the chemist and physicist"had to deal with quantities and weights which were apt,wholly or in part, to be annihilated, there would be introducedan incalculable element, fatal to all positive conclusions."And since motions of masses and molecules form a principal part of the subject-matter of the three abstract-concrete sciences, it is obvious that "if these motions mighteither proceed from nothing or lapse into nothing, therewould be an end to scientific interpretation of them; " noscience of chemistry, or of physics, molecular or molar,would be possible.The evidence which has secured universal acceptance forthese twin theorems has been chiefly inductive evidence.The ancients freely admitted that matter might be createdand destroyed; and until the time of Galileo it was supposed that moving bodies had a natural tendency to losetheir motion by degrees until they finally stopped. Falsify-CH. 1.] MATTER, MOTION, AND FORCE. 281ing many of the complex conditions in the case, the ancientsverbally maintained the negations of the theorems thatmatter is indestructible and motion continuous; although,if they had tried to realize in thought their crude propositions, they would have found it impossible. But graduallyit began to be perceived that in all cases where matter disappears as in the burning of wood or the evaporation ofwater the vanished matter has only undergone a molecular change which renders it temporarily imperceptible byour unaided senses. Of the manner in which quantitativechemistry has demonstrated this truth, pursuing, balancein hand, the vanished matter through all its protean transformations, it is unnecessary to speak. Similar has beenthe evidence in the case of motion. Observing that, themore effectually friction, atmospheric resistance, and otherobstacles to the visible continuance of motion are eliminated, the longer the motion continues, the conclusion wasreached, by the method of concomitant variations, that ifall obstacles could be eliminated the motion would continue for ever. Finally, when it was shown that the apparent loss of motion caused by friction is, in fact, only atransformation of a certain quantity of molar motion intoits equivalent quantity of that species of molecular motionknown as heat, it was admitted on all sides that motion isindestructible, as well as matter.But a brief analysis will show that the twin theoremswhich we are considering have a deductive warrant equallyvalid with their inductive warrant. Deep as are the truthsthat matter is indestructible and motion continuous, thereis a yet deeper truth implied by these two. These theoremsare not fundamental, but derivative; and it therefore becomes necessary to ascertain the axiom upon which theydepend, since here, if anywhere, must be found the primordial truth which we are seeking.Since we cognize any portion of matter whatever only as282 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. 11.an aggregate of coexistent positions which offer resistanceto our muscular energies; since it is primarily by virtue ofsuch resistance that we distinguish matter from empty space,it follows that our idea of matter is built up of experiencesof force, and that the indestructible element in matter isits resisting power, or the force which it exerts. Considering different portions of matter in their relations toeach other, we are brought to the same conclusion. Whenwe say that it is chemistry which has proved with thebalance that no matter is ever annihilated, we imply thatthe test of the presence of matter is gravitative force, andthat this force is proportional to the quantity of matter.The case of motion is precisely similar. We cognizemotion as the successive occupation of a series of positionsby an aggregate of coexistent positions which offer resistance; and the essential element in the cognition- " thenecessity which the moving body is under to go on changingits position "-has been proved to result from early experiences of force as manifested in the movements of ourmuscles. Consequently, as Mr. Spencer observes, when wefind ourselves compelled to conceive motion as continuous,we find that what " defies suppression in thought is reallythe force which the motion indicates. The unceasing changeof position, considered by itself, may be mentally abolishedwithout difficulty. We can readily imagine retardation andstoppage to result from the action of external bodies. Butto imagine this, is not possible without an abstraction of theforce implied by the motion. We are obliged to conceive thisforce as impressed in the shape of reaction on the bodies thatcause the arrest. "Or to put the whole case briefly in another form:-Thefundamental elements of our conception of matter are itsforce-element and its space-element, namely, resistance andextension. The fundamental elements of our conception ofmotion are its force-element and its space-and-time-element,UHL. 1.] MATTER, MOTION, AND FORCE. 283namely, energy and velocity. That in each case the forceelement is primordial, is shown by the facts that what wecannot conceive as diminished by the compression of matteris not its extension but its power of resistance; what wecannot conceive as diminished by the retardation of motion isnot its velocity but its energy.Therefore, in asserting that matter is indestructible andthat motion is continuous, we assert, by implication, thatforce is persistent. Our two fundamental theorems are thusseen to derive their validity from a yet deeper theorem,― theproposition that the force manifested in the knowable universe is constant, can neither be increased nor diminished.To this result, which we have here obtained through ageneral consideration of the problems treated by the abstractconcrete sciences, we shall be equally led by any special question of molar physics, molecular physics, or chemistry whichwe may choose to analyze. When we say that the curvedescribed by a cascade in leaping from a projecting ledge ofrock is a parabola of which the coordinates express respectively the momentum of the water and the intensity ofgravity at the verge of the ledge; or when we say that theline followed by any solid body, drawn by two differentlysituated forces, is the diagonal of a parallelogram of whichthe sides express the respective intensities of the forces; thevalidity of our assertion depends entirely upon the postulatethat the forces in question are constant in amount. Annihilate a single unit of force, and our proposition is hopelesslyfalsified. Similarly in molecular physics, when we enunciatethe formula by means of which Joseph Fourier founded themathematical theory of heat-namely, the formula that, inall cases of radiation and conduction, the thermological actionnetween two bodies is proportional to the difference of theirtemperatures-we imply that action and reaction are alwaysequal between the systems of molecules which compose thetwo bodies. And the equality of action and reaction between284 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY [PT. IL .systems of atoms is taken for granted in every proposition ofchemistry; as, for instance, when we say that it will takefour molecules of any monatomic substance, like hydrogen,to saturate a single molecule of any tetratomic substance,like carbon. Now to assert the equality of action and reaction, whether between masses, molecules, or atoms, is toassert that force is persistent. " The allegation really amountsto this, that there cannot be an isolated force, beginning andending in nothing; but that any force manifested, implies anequal antecedent force from which it is derived, and againstwhich it is a reaction. Further, that the force so originatingcannot disappear without result; but must expend itself insome other manifestation of force, which, in being produced,becomes its reaction; and so on continually." Clearly,therefore, the assertion that force is persistent is the fundamental axiom of physics: it is the deepest truth whichanalytic science can disclose.But now what warrant have we for this fundamentalaxiom? How do we know that force is persistent? Itforce is not persistent, if a single unit of force can ever beadded to or subtracted fromthe sum-total at any momentexisting, our entire physical science is, as we have seen, amere delusion. In such case, it is a delusion to believe thataction and reaction are always equal, that the strongest bow,bent by the strongest muscles, will always send its arrow tothe greatest distance if otherwise unimpeded; it is a delusionto believe that the pressure of the atmosphere and its temperature must always affect the height of enclosed columnsof alcohol or mercury, or that a single molecule of nitrogenwill always just suffice to saturate three molecules of chlorine. And, this being the case, our concrete sciences alsofall to the ground, and our confidence in the stability ofnature is shown to be baseless; since for aught we can say tothe contrary, the annihilation of a few units of the earth'sSpencer, First Principles, p. 188.CH.285 L.]MATTER, MOTION, AND FORCE.centrifugal force may cause us to fall upon the sun tomorrow.But how do we know that all science is not a delusion, sincethere still exist upon the earth's surface persons who willtell us that it is so? Why do we so obstinately refuse to doubtthe constancy of the power manifested in nature? What proofhave we that no force is ever created or destroyed?Logically speaking, we have no proof. An axiom whichlies below all frameable propositions cannot be deductivelydemonstrated. Below the world stands the elephant on theback of the tortoise, and if under the tortoise we put the godVishnu, where is Vishnu to get a foothold? Nor can ouraxiom be demonstrated inductively, without reasoning in acircle. We cannot adduce the observed equality of actionand reaction in proof of the persistence of force, because thispersistence is taken for granted in every observation bywhich the equality of action and reaction is determined.Obviously it is impossible to prove the truth of an axiom byany demonstration in every step of which the truth of theaxiom must be assumed.But these results need not surprise or disturb us. As wesaw, when discussing the Test of Truth, the process ofdemonstration, which consists in continually " mergingderivative truths in those wider and wider truths from whichthey are derived," must eventually reach a widest truth,which cannot be contained in or derived from any other.At the bottom of all demonstration there must lie anindemonstrable axiom. And the truth of this axiom canonly be certified by the direct application of the test ofinconceivability. We are compelled to believe in the persistence of force, because it is impossible to conceive avariation in the unit by which force is measured. It isimpossible to conceive something becoming nothing ornothing becoming something, without establishing in thoughtin equation between something and nothing; and this286 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. ILcannot be done. That one is equal to zero is a propositionof which the subject and predicate will destroy each othersooner than be made to unite.Thus the proof of our fundamental axiom is not logical,but psychological. And, as was formerly shown, this is thestrongest possible kind of proof. Inasmuch as our capacityfor conceiving any proposition is entirely dependent uponthe manner in which objective experiences have registeredthemselves upon our minds, our utter inability to conceive avariation in the sum-total of force implies that such variation is negatived by the whole history of the intercoursebetween the mind and its environment since intelligencefirst began. The inconceivability-test of Kant and theexperience-test of Hume, when fused in this deeper synthesis,unite in declaring that the most irrefragable of truths is thatwhich survives all possible changes in the conditions underwhich phenomena are manifested to us. The persistence offorce, therefore, being an axiom which survives under allconditions cognizable by our intelligence, being indeed theultimate test by which we are compelled to estimate thevalidity of any proposition whatever concerning any imaginable set of phenomena and under any conceivable circ*mstances, must be an axiom necessitated by the very constitution of the thinking mind, as perennial intercourse with theenvironment has moulded it.1Mr. Mill, indeed, in his " System of Logic," Book iii. Chap.xxi. , maintains that our belief in the necessity and universalityof causation (which was above shown to be an immediatecorollary from the persistence of force) rests upon an induction per enumerationem simplicem, which is, however, validin this one case, because it is coextensive with all knownorders of phenomena. The incompleteness of this view isshown by the fact that the persistence of force is necessarilyassumed in every step of the vast induction by which the1 See above, part i. chap. vi.CH. I.] MATTER, MOTION, AND FORCE. 287law of causation is said to be established. Mr. Mill onlyemphasizes the incompleteness of his view when he repudiatesthe inconceivability-test as evidence of the law in question.This point has been already so fully discussed that littlemore need to be said about it here. When, in a futurechapter, we come to deal especially with the evolution ofintelligence, we shall see that Mr. Mill's inadequate treatment of this subject is due to imperfect mastery of theDoctrine of Evolution. We shall see that the so - calledexperience- philosophy is both wider and deeper than Englishpsychologists, from Hobbes to Mill, have imagined. Weshall see that not only our acquired knowledge, but even theinherited constitution of our minds, is the product ofaccumulated and integrated experiences, partly personal butchiefly ancestral. Upon this wider ground we shall findourselves able to dwell in peace with our old foes, theintuitionalists, since it will be seen that the very intuitionsupon which they rightly insist as inexplicable from individualexperience are nevertheless explicable from the organizedexperiences of countless generations. And the conclusionwill then assert itself, with redoubled emphasis, that theaxiom of the persistence of force, being the product of theentire intercourse between subject and object, since the dawnof intelligence, must have the highest warrant which anyaxiom can have.Let us for the present, however, content ourselves withreproducing the psychological argument by which Mr.Spencer clinches his demonstration of the necessity whichwe are under to conceive of force as persistent. " The indestructibility of matter and the continuity of motion, we sawto be really corollaries from the impossibility of establishingin thought a relation between something and nothing. Whatwe call the establishment of a relation in thought, is thepassage of the substance of consciousness from one form intoanother. To think of something becoming nothing, would288 [PT. II COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.involve that this substance of consciousness , having justexisted under a given form, should next assume no form; orshould cease to be consciousness. And thus our inability toconceive matter and motion destroyed, is our inability to suppress consciousness itself. What is thus proved true of matterand motion is d fortiori true of the force out of which ourconceptions of matter and motion are built. " Thus we seeit is the persistence of consciousness itself which imposes onus the necessity of asserting the persistence of force. Andaccordingly this primordial axiom being involved in everyact of conscious thinking, and being the basis of experience," must be the basis of any scientific organization of experiTo this an ultimate analysis brings us down; and onthis a rational synthesis must build up."ences.The force of these considerations will become still morestrikingly apparent as we proceed to contemplate the mostgeneral corollaries of this fundamental axiom with which thescience of physics has furnished us. The first of thesecorollaries is the theorem that the relations among forces arepersistent. That is to say, in all cases an aggregate of likecauses will be followed by an aggregate of like effects. "Ifin any two cases there is exact likeness not only betweenthose most conspicuous antecedents which we distinguish asthe causes, but also between those accompanying antecedentswhich we call the conditions, we cannot affirm that theeffects will differ, without affirming either that some forcehas come into existence or that some force has ceased toexist. If the cooperative forces in the one case are equal tothose in the other, each to each, in distribution and amount:then it is impossible to conceive the product of their jointaction in the one case as unlike that in the other, withoutconceiving one or more of the forces to have increased ordiminished in quantity; and this is conceiving that force isnot persistent." It follows, therefore, from the persistenceFirst Principles, p. 193.CH, I. ] MATTER, MOTION, AND FORCE. 289of force, that there is an invariable order of successionbetween the totality of phenomena which exist at any giveninstant and the totality of phenomena which exist at thenext succeeding instant. No matter how many special ordersof sequences may interlace to form the grand web of sequentphenomena, the order of sequences, both separately and inthe aggregate, must be invariable. In complicated mechanicalproblems, where many forces are involved, we proceed toeliminate one after another by means of the principle of theparallelogram of forces, until at last we retain but twodifferently located forces, the resultant of which is easilycalculable. So, in the most complex cases of causation to befound in nature-as, for instance, in those concerned in thedevelopment of the moral character of individuals-if wepossessed the means of measuring quantitatively the ratio ofeach set of antecedents to its set of consequents, we mighteliminate one group after another, until at length a necessaryrelation of sequence would be disclosed between the resultantgroup of antecedents and consequents. As Mr. Mill observes:"For every event there exists some combination of objectsor events, some given concurrence of circ*mstances, positiveand negative, the occurrence of which is always followed bythat phenomenon. We may not have found out what thisconcurrence of circ*mstances may be; but we never doubtthat there is such a one, and that it never occurs withouthaving the phenomenon in question as its effect or consequence." Our unhesitating assurance that " there is a lawto be found if we only knew how to find it " is thus thefoundation of all the canons of inductive logic. Theuniformity of the laws of nature is elsewhere called by Mr.Mill " the major premise of all inductions." The presentanalysis further shows us that this uniformity of law isresolvable into the persistence of relations among forces, and istherefore an immediate corollary from the persistence of force.1 System of Logic, 6th edit. , vol. i. p. 367.VOL. I. U290 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. ILBesides this purely philosophical corollary from ourfundamental axiom, we have to note three other corollaries,which, as belonging to the transcendental regions of physicalscience, must be set forth and illustrated before we canprofitably begin our synthesis of scientific truths. Let usbriefly consider these in their natural order.The first of these corollaries is the generalization currentlyknown as the " Correlation of Forces." Since each manifestation of force must have been preceded by some otherequivalent manifestation of force, it follows that when anyspecific manifestation appears to terminate, it does not reallycease to exist, but is only transformed into some other specifimanifestation. That we may better apprehend this importan(.truth, let us clear away some of the ambiguity whichsurrounds the terms commonly employed in the statement ofit. The phrase " correlation of forces," which means thecorrelation of sensible motion with heat, light, electricity,etc., implies that heat, light, and electricity are forces. Thisis not strictly accurate. Heat and light are modes ofundulatory motion, and electricity, with its kindred phenomena, is to be similarly interpreted. Now motion is notforce, but one of the manifestations of force; and so thevarious modes of motion, molar and molecular, are differentlyconditioned manifestations of force. The force which produces or resists motion is known by us only under thetwofold form of attraction and repulsion, which may beeither polar or universal. Polar attraction or repulsion isthat which acts with different power in different directions.An example of polar attraction is to be found in every caseof crystallization, where molecules are grouped into a solidfigure bounded by plane surfaces; and a familiar example ofpolar repulsion is that which is exhibited when the positiveFoles of any two magnets are brought into mutual proximity, Universal attraction or repulsion is that whichFIL. 1.] MATTER, MOTION, AND Force. 891acts with equal power in all directions. In universalattraction we are accustomed to distinguish three modes,respectively called gravity, cohesion, and chemism orchemical affinity.The essential difference between these modes of primaryforce and the various modes of motion, is illustrated by thefamiliar facts that gravity causes molar motion while molarmotion does not cause gravity; and that chemism gives riseto the species of molecular motion called heat, while heatcannot give rise to chemism, though it may result in a molecular rearrangement which will allow chemism to manifestit*elf. For example gravity causes a spent rocket to fallto the ground; but the upward motion of the rocket does notcause gravity, although it results in a position of the rocketwhich enables gravity to reveal itself by causing downwardmotion. So when nitrous oxide is decomposed into nitrogenand oxygen, a considerable amount of heat is evolved; butwhen all this thermal undulation is restored under appropriateconditions, and the compound is again formed, it is not thatthe thermal undulation gives rise to the chemism whichdraws the atoms of nitrogen and oxygen together; it is onlythat the thermal undulation results in such a redistributionof the atoms that their progress toward each other is unmpeded, and thus the latent force of chemism is revealed.Now the law of the correlation of forces, which perhapsought rather to be called the law of the transformation ofmotion, is simply the obverse of that corollary from the persistence of force, which affirms that whatever energy hasbeen expended in doing work must reappear as energy. Theenergy of molar motion which disappears when an arrowsticks in its target is really transformed into the energy ofmolecular motion which is recognized partly as heat andpartly as electricity. That the different modes of motionare transformable into each other, is now one of the commonplaces of physical science, and needs but little illustrationU 2299 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY [PT. II..here What is called the arrest of motion by friction is nowknown to be the change of molar motion into heat, when therubbing substances are alike in constitution, -into heat andelectricity, when they are unlike. In violent collisions, asin the chipping of stones with a mason's chisel, the arrestedmolar motion is partly changed into light. And when aniron bar is suspended in the magnetic meridian and violentlystruck or continually jarred, a portion of the arrested motionreveals itself as magnetism.The transformation of heat into molar motion may be seenin the rise and fall of the mercury in the thermometer, orin the driving of a piston by the molecular dilatation ofaqueous vapour. When lime is introduced into an atmosphere of burning hydrogen, we see the conversion of heatinto light. And when the heated ends of zinc and copperwires are brought together, we see heat generating electriccurrents. Conversely, electricity conducted down a lightning-rod is partly converted into heat; and in the brightflashes which are followed by claps of thunder, we witnesselectric energy partly consumed in originating light.The phenomenon commonly called light is but a speciesof a mode of solar energy which may be called radiance oractinism, and which, according to the manner in which itaffects our senses, is known as radiant heat, as light, or asthe energy which works changes in the daguerreotype- plateand in the leaves of plants. The difference between thehigher rays of the solar spectrum, which manifest themselves chiefly in causing chemical changes, and the lowerrays, which are cognized as violet light, is generically thesame as the difference between these and the still lowerrays which are cognized as indigo, blue, green, yellow,orange, or red light; and the same is true if we descendto those still lower rays which are recognized only by theirthermal effects. If we call the energy manifested in thesolar beam by the general name of actinism, we may sayCH. I.] MATTER, MOTION, AND FORCE. 293that actinism is transformable into all the other modes ofmotion. In Mr. Grove's celebrated experiment, where adaguerreotype- plate is ingeniously connected with a galvanometer, a gridiron of silver wire, and a heat- registering helix,and where actinism is the initial mode of motion, there areobtained " chemical action on the plate, electricity in thewires, magnetism in the coil, heat in the helix, and [molar]motion in the needles."In all cases where the disappearance of any given modeof motion is followed by the appearance of some other mode,the proof that there has been an actual transformation of theformer mode into the latter is of two kinds. Deductiveproof is furnished by the fact that the only alternative supposition is unthinkable, —namely, the supposition that theone kind of motion has been annihilated, while the otherkind has been created for the occasion. Inductive proof isfurnished by the fact that wherever it is possible to measureboth the amount of motion that disappears and the amountthat appears in its place, the two quantities are always foundto be equal. Thus the molar motion implied in the fallof 772 pounds of matter through one foot of space, willalways raise the temperature of a pound of water just onedegree of Fahrenheit. And similar quantitative correlationshave been established among other modes of motion.The second corollary from the persistence of force assertsthat the direction of motion in any case is always theresultant between the lines representing respectively thegreatest traction and the least resistance exerted by theforces upon which the motion depends. In any plexus offorces whatever, the resultant of all the tractive forces involved will be the line of greatest traction; the resultant ofall the resisting forces will be the line of least resistance;and the direction of motion in the resultant of this final pairof resultants follows directly from the persistence of force.294 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY [PT. II..For the last resultant represents the direction and amount ofa surplus force which remains after all the other forces havebeen equilibrated; and to assert that this force will not bemanifested in motion along this line, is to assert that forcemay be expended without effect. Still more obvious doesthis become, when we remember that " our only evidence ofexcess of force is the movement it produces. " Since weknow force not in itself, but only as revealed to consciousness in matter and motion, it follows that motion in anydirection is the only proof we have that there is a surplus ofunantagonized force acting in that direction. So that ourtheorem becomes almost an identical proposition. But ifwe ask why the greater of two opposing forces is that whichcauses motion in its own direction, there can be no answersave the one already given. There is no warrant save theconsciousness that the unneutralized surplus of force cannotcease to act.The simplest case contemplated by this corollary is thatof a moving body left to itself. There being here no forceinvolved, save the body's own momentum, the direction ofmotion is an infinite straight line. But since the realizationof such a case would involve the annihilation of all mattersave the body in question, it is obvious that no such simplecase can ever have existed within the limits of the knowableuniverse. The simplest case of motion which can comewithin our cognizance is really complex to a degree whichbaffles computation. Mr. Spencer somewhere remarks thatwhen a man appears to be walking westward, he is reallybeing carried eastward by the earth's rotation at the rate of1,000 miles an hour. Besides this, the earth's orbital motionis carrying him westward at the differential rate of 67,000miles an hour. Meanwhile the motion of the solar systemtoward the constellation Hercules is all the time bearing himn a direction neither east nor west. While, if we couldcomprehend in a single view the dynamic relations of theCH. 1.] MATTER, MOTION, AND FORCE. 295entire sidereal universe, we should find that even theenormous factors already taken into the account would helpus but little toward determining the resultant directionin which the man is moving. The comparative ease withwhich astronomy ascertains the direction of the motionswith which it deals, is due to our ability to isolate ourselves theoretically from an indefinitely extended universeof environing bodies; and this is due to the principle, established by Galileo, that the relative motions of the parts ofan aggregate are not affected by the motion of the whole.If we could include in the problem the entire knowableuniverse, we should doubtless find the real motions of aplanet as impossible to calculate mathematically as are nowthe motions of a corpuscle of nerve- substance when thrownout of equilibrium by an act of thinking.Nevertheless, because of this principle that the relativemotions of parts may be calculated independently of themotion of the whole, we are enabled legitimately to restrictour views, so that motion along the resultant of two or threeforces may be determined and predicted with a near approach to accuracy. Witness the ease with which we cancalculate the orbit of a comet. But when the forces becomemore numerous, it becomes impossible to determine theirresultant. Witness the excessive difficulty of predicting thedirection of currents in the atmosphere. The movements oforganisms still more hopelessly baffle our powers of calculation. It is hardly probable that science will ever obtainequations for the motions of a lion in securing his prey; yetthat would be a very shallow philosophy which should seekto assure us that each one of those motions does not takeplace along the resultant of all the forces involved. To anintelligence sufficiently vast, the motions of the earth inspace would doubtless seem as complicated as those of thelion seem to us. But no amount of complexity can alterthe fundamental principle that the direction of motion must.296 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY [PT. II..be the resultant between the lines of greatest traction and ofleast resistance.In conclusion let us observe that in many cases the totalamount of traction is so small compared to the total amountof resistance, that for practical purposes it may be neglected;and vice versa. Thus, when a meteor falls upon the earth,we may neglect the resistance of the atmosphere, and saythat the meteor follows the line of greatest traction; andwhen a volcano throws up a column of lava, we may neglectthe effects of gravity, and say that for the time being the lavafollows the line of least resistance. We shall thus, withoutany considerable inaccuracy, avoid cumbrous verbiage; andin the case of molecular motions propagated through massesof matter, with which our exposition is chiefly concerned, itis sufficiently accurate to say that motion follows the line ofleast resistance.CHAPTER ILRHYTHM.THE third corollary from the persistence of force may bestbe introduced by a reconsideration of the simplest case ofmotion contemplated by the preceding corollary. The realization of Galileo's first law of motion-the law that amoving body must for ever continue in a straight line withuniform velocity-obviously postulates the non- existence ofany other matter than that contained in the body in question. If there were but one body in the universe, that body,when once set in motion, would never alter its direction, orundergo any increase or diminution of velocity. The introduction of a second body, attracting the first and attractedby it, alters the result in a way which now demands briefconsideration. If the motion with which the two bodiesstart is such as would carry them along a straight linetoward each other, they must obviously rush together, andthe case is thus again reduced to that of a single movingbody. But this case is too simple to have been ever actuallyrealized. What we have to deal with is the case of twobodies which are moving in independent directions. Forthe sake of simplicity, let us suppose that the second body,8, is so much heavier than the first body, A, that thecommcn centre of gravity of the two lies within B's peri-298 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. II.phery. What now will be the result? The direction of A'smotion, instead of remaining unaltered, will be at eachinstant deflected from a straight line in such a way that Awill continually approach nearer and nearer to a point some .where in advance of B, upon the line in which B is moving:instead of a straight line we shall have a curve of which thecoordinates will bear to each other a ratio equal to the ratiobetween A's momentum and B's tractive force. The velocity ofA will also cease to be uniform. For as soon as A has passedon beyond B, a portion of its momentum will be at each instant consumed in neutralizing B's tractive force, so that thevelocity due to the remaining momentum, will be at eachinstant diminished. Now, unless A's momentum be infinite,this process cannot go on for ever. By the time that A hasarrived at the point directly in advance of B, so muchmomentum will have been lost that B's attraction willbegin to overbalance it, and the curve in which A is movingwill begin to turn back toward B. But now. B's tractiveforce begins to augment at each instant the velocity of A,until, by the time that A has reached a position alongsideof B, its momentum is considerably in excess of B's attraction, and it is consequently carried on toward a point in therear of B. The same rhythmical decrease and increase inA's momentum continues until the curve is completed, andA has reached the position from which it started. Thus ourattracted body, instead of moving in a straight line, movesin a closed curve of which one of the foci must coincide inposition with the common centre of gravity of the attractedand attracting bodies. The result which we have hereobtained by supposing A to be so much smaller than B thatit* reciprocal influence upon B's motion might be left unconsidered, is not altered if we suppose A and B to be equa!in size. In this case the common centre of gravity lies midway between the two bodies, and is the common focus of thetwo closed curves respectively described by them.SH. II.] RHYTHM. 299The illustration is a very trite one, being approximatelyrealized in every case of planetary revolution, but the spacehere given to it is justified by the supreme importance of theprinciple now to be generalized from it. To Galileo's first.law of motion there is now to be added a supplemental law.As a single moving body, in an otherwise empty universe,would move for ever with unvarying velocity in an unvarying direction; so, on the other hand, two or more bodies,moving in independent directions and exerting attractiveforces upon each other, must for ever move in directionswhich rhythmically vary, and with velocities which arerhythmically augmented and diminished. Thus the rhythmof motion is a corollary from the persistence of force. Ouronly alternatives are rhythm, or invariable velocity in aninvariable direction. The latter alternative being excludedby the fact that in the known universe innumerable bodiescoexist, it follows that we must adopt the former, and admitthat all motion is and must be rhythmical.The direct dependence of this conclusion upon the axiomof the persistence of force is still further illustrated by thecase of the pendulum. Let us imagine, for the sake ofdefiniteness, a heavy bob at the end of a rigid wire. Whenthe bob is raised to leftward of the perpendicular, and thenleft to the action of gravity, it at once begins to descend.But while it is descending, gravity is at each instant addingto its momentum, so that, when it reaches the perpendicular,it cannot stop, but is carried along to rightward untilall the added momentum is lost again; that is, until it hasascended to a height equal to that from which it began tolescend. Being now left to the unhindered action of gravity,the same series of motions will occur in the reverse direction,and so on for ever. Strictly speaking, no such case can berealized; since all the lost momentum is not expended inneutralizing gravity, but part of it is employed in communitating motion to the environing atmosphere, and part of it is800 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. II.transformed into heat. But if all the molar momentum thusdissipated could be retained, the rhythmic motion of thependulum would continue for ever. But why? Simplybecause the momentum acquired during the descendingrhythm cannot cease to manifest itself, save as it is neutralized during the ascending rhythm. And to adduce thisreason is to appeal directly to the persistence of force.The case of undulatory motions propagated among themolecules of matter, is precisely similar. The passage ofan undulation implies at each instant a momentary localrarefaction, followed by a momentary local condensation.At a given instant certain molecules are removed furtherfrom each other, while at the next succeeding instant theyapproach each other, and the molecules immediately adjacentare removed from each other. Why is rarefaction thus succeeded by condensation? What is it that determines therebound of the disturbed molecule towards its original position? Obviously the progress of a pair of molecules towardpositions farther and farther from each other is opposed bythe inertia of adjacent molecules, which these push beforethem as they advance. The local rarefaction is achievedonly at the expense of an adjacent condensation. Thistondensation of the adjacent molecules increases their elasticity until it begins to overbalance the momentum of theseparating pair of molecules, and then these molecules aredriven back toward each other. And so on, without intermission. Now the recoil of the advancing molecule isnecessitated by the fact that the elasticity which it generatesin the resisting molecule cannot expend itself without producing motion. And to say this is to recur again to ourfundamental axiom.Thus in all cases, whether molar or molecular, the rhythmof motion is necessitated by the fact that in a multiformuniverse no portion of matter can move uninfluenced bysome other portion. The illustrations just given do butCH. n.]RHYTHM. 301typify that which is for ever going on throughout the lengthand breadth of the Cosmos. Periodicity, rise and fall, recurrence of maxima and minima,-this is the law of allmotions whatever, whether exemplified by the star rushingthrough space, by the leaf that quivers in the breeze, bythe stream of blood that courses through the arteries, orby the atom of oxygen that oscillates in harmony with itscompanion-atoms of hydrogen in the rain-drop. Always,as in our initial illustration, the forces which are carrying■ given portion of matter in a given direction become gradually altered in their distribution, and in their amounts, untilthe direction of the motion becomes practically reversed;and whether the given portion of matter be a planet or amolecule, the dynamic principle remains the same.Just asNewton's law of inverse squares applies to molecules as wellas to masses, so the law of rhythm applies in both cases.Thus what we may call the elementary motions goingon throughout the world of phenomena-the elementarymotions by the various combinations of which all perceptible motions are made up-are all rhythmical or oscillatory.The phenomena which are presented to our consciousnessas light, heat, electricity, and magnetism, are the productsof a perpetual trembling, or swaying to and fro of theinvisible atoms of which visible bodies are composed.When we contemplate the heavens on a clear autumnevening, and marvel at the beauty of Sirius, that beauty isconveyed to our senses through the medium of atomic shivers,kept up during the past twenty-two years, at the averagerate of six hundred millions of millions per second. Thedifference between the tropical heat of India and the coldof the Arctic regions is simply the measure of untold millionsof tiny differences in the rates of oscillation of countlessatoms of atmospheric gases, determined in turn by innumerable oscillatory movements propagated from the sun to theearth. The difference between the faradaic current which809 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. ILcures some deep-seated abnormity of nutrition, and thelightning- flash which paralyzes and kills, is at bottom adifference in amounts and rates of atomic vibration. Andaccording to the latest speculations in chemical philosophy,it is because of the synchronousness or rhythmical harmonyof the oscillatory movements described by their atoms, thatelementary substances are enabled to combine in myriadfoldways, thus making up the wondrous variety of forms, organicand inorganic, which the earth's surface presents for ourcontemplation.Since the ultimate particles of which science regards theuniverse as composed are thus perpetually swaying to andfro, in accordance with a law of motion that admits of noexception, we may expect to find that the various aggregatesof these particles which constitute perceptible bodies willexhibit a like rhythm, whether comparatively simple orendlessly compounded, in their motions. The law whichgoverns the action of the parts must govern also the actionof the whole, no matter how intricately the whole may becompounded. Whether it be in the case of organic or inorganic bodies , of complex or of simple aggregates, we mustexpect to come upon systems of rhythmical movements,which will be comparatively simple or endlessly complex,according to the structural complication of the bodies inquestion. Let us exhibit a few instances of this rhythmicalaction, before we pass to the stupendous consequences ofthetheorem which I have been endeavouring to elucidate. Someof the chief instances to be gathered from astronomic phenomena have been so admirably presented by Mr. Spencer,that I cannot do better than to quote in full his concisestatement.Along with the planetary revolutions which furnish theillustration with which I began this chapter, "the solarsystem presents us with various rhythms of a less manifestand more complex kind. In each planet and satellite there

1. H, IL]

RHYTHM 303is the revolution of the nodes-a slow change in the positionof the orbit-plane, which after completing itself commencesafresh. There is the gradual alteration in the length of theaxis major of the orbit; and also of its eccentricity; both ofwhich are rhythmical alike in the sense that they alternatebetween maxima and minima, and in the sense that theprogress from one extreme to the other is not uniform, butis made with fluctuating velocity. Then, too, there is therevolution of the line of apsides, which in course of timemoves round the heavens-not regularly, but through complex oscillations. And further we have variations in thedirections of the planetary axes-that known as nutation,and that larger gyration which, in the case of the earth.causes the precession of the equinoxes." These rhythms, already more or less compound, arecompounded with each other. Such an instance as the secularacceleration and retardation of the moon, consequent on thevarying eccentricity of the earth's orbit, is one of thesimplest. Another, having more important consequences,results from the changing direction of the axes of rotation inplanets whose orbits are decidedly eccentric. Every planet,during a certain long period, presents more of its northernthan of its southern hemisphere to the sun at the time of itsnearest approach to him; and then again, during a likeperiod, presents more of its southern hemisphere than of itsnorthern-a recurring coincidence which, though causing insome planets no sensible alterations of climate, involves inthe case of the earth an epoch of 21,000 years, during whicheach hemisphere goes through a cycle of temperate seasons,and seasons that are extreme in their heat and cold. Nor isthis all. There is even a variation of this variation. Forthe summers and winters of the whole earth become more orless strongly contrasted, as the eccentricity of its orbitincreases and decreases. Hence during increase of theeccentricity, the epochs of moderately contrasted seasons304 [PT. 11.COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.and epochs of strongly contrasted seasons, through whichalternately each hemisphere passes, must grow more andmore different in the degrees of their contrast and contrariwise during decrease of the eccentricity. So that in thequantity of light and heat which any portion of the earthreceives from the sun, there goes on a quadruple rhythm:that of day and night; that of summer and winter; thatdue to the changing position of the axis at perihelion andaphelion, taking 21,000 years to complete; and that involvedby the variation of the orbit's eccentricity, gone through inmillions of years." 1The astronomic rhythms here enumerated are peculiarlyinteresting from the fact that, owing to their comparativelysimple character, they are susceptible of mathematical treatment, so that their direct dependence on the principle of thepersistence of force can be quantitatively demonstrated. Inascending to the order of phenomena next above them inpoint of complexity—the geologic phenomena occurring onthe earth's surface-we enter a region where such quantitative proof, save of a very crude sort, cannot be obtained.The great complexity of geologic as contrasted with astronomic rhythms is shown by the fact that whereas on theone hand, we can readily calculate the variations of eccentricity in the earth's orbit which have taken place duringmillions of years gone by or which are sure to take placeduring millions of years to come, on the other hand we arenot yet able to assign an approximate date for the mostrecent epoch at which our northern hemisphere we coveredwith glaciers. According to Mr. Wallace this epoch mayhave occurred no more than seventy thousand years ago,while others would assign to it an antiquity of at least twohundred thousand years, and there are yet others who urgestrong arguments in behalf of the opinion that a million ofyears is barely enough to have produced the changes which1 First Principles, pp. 256. 257.CH. II.] RHYTHM. 305have taken place since that event. Nevertheless, though wecannot determine the amounts and durations of the movements which have occurred during the geologic history ofthe earth, we can still securely assert that these movementshave been rhythmical in character. Though the verdict isrendered with less precision, its purport is still the same.In the alternating periods of elevation and depression whichhave succeeded each other at different places ever sincethe earth's crust began to be solidified, are exemplified thechief geologic rhythms, due to the slow deflection of thelines of least resistance along which the pressure of theearth's nucleus reveals itself by causing upward motion.But these immensely long rhythms are complicated by minorrhythmical changes of surface, due to continual shifting ofriver-beds and consequent variations in the areas of denudation and in the deposit of sedimentary strata. And theserhythms are still further complicated by rhythmic variationsin the operation of climatic agencies, entailing periodicchanges in the amount and distribution of rainfall, in thesize and movements of icebergs and glaciers, and in theactivity of frost. On the sea- shore we may witness thecompound rhythm of the tides, " in which the daily rise andfall undergo a fortnightly increase and decrease, due to thealternating coincidence and antagonism of the solar andlunar attractions "; a source from which arise the mostminute geologic rhythms, as those which arise from thesecular cooling of the earth, and from its ever varyingposition in space, are the most vast.But the subject of complex rhythms is still better illustrated in biology. The commonest physiological act, such aseating, is dependent upon a periodically occurring sensationof hunger, due to a periodic excess of waste over repair.The taking of nutriment is accomplished, in all animals, bya series of rhythmical motions, either the motions of cilia,or of sphincter muscles, or of jaws, or indeed, of all three atVOL L X306 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. ILonce. Mr. Spencer adds that "the swallowing of food iseffected by a wave of constriction passing along the œsophagus; its digestion is accompanied by a muscular actionof the stomach that is also undulatory; and the peristalticmotion of the intestines is of like nature. The bloodobtained from this food is propelled not in a uniform currentbut in pulses; and it is aerated by lungs that alternatelycontract and expand. " To this we may add that assimilationis a continuous process of rhythmic interchange between themolecular constituents of the various tissues and of theblood by which they are bathed; that muscular action is theresult of a series of oscillatory movements; and that nervousaction depends upon a quickly alternating rise and fall inthe chemical instability of the molecules which compose thenerve-centres. All these minor rhythms are as ripples uponthe surface of the longer rhythm constituted by sleep andwakefulness. Recent researches have shown that sleep itselffurnishes a beautiful illustration of the manner in whichrhythm is necessitated by the continual redistribution offorces in the organism. According to the most recent view,sleep is caused by a diminution in the capacity of thecerebral arteries, which lessens the circulation of bloodthrough the brain. It is the sympathetic nerve which effectsthis contraction of the arteries. During the day the activityof the cerebrum itself supplies the stimulus which causesarterial blood to flow through the head in large quantities, soas to keep the vessels duly distended. But after many hoursof activity the ratio of repair to waste is sensibly diminished;there is a fall in the average chemical instability of thecerebral nerve-molecules, and a consequent diminution in theamount of cerebral stimulus; until presently the amount ofstimulus sent up from moment to moment along the cervicalbranch of the sympathetic nerve exceeds the amount whichthe cerebrum can oppose to it. Experiment has shown thatthe effect of stimulating the sympathetic nerve is to contractCH. 11.] RHYTHM 307the muscular walls of the cerebral arteries. The supply ofarterial blood is thus so far diminished that consciousnessceases. But now the other half of the rhythm begins. Thecessation of conscious activity greatly diminishes the wasteof cerebral tissue; and, although repair is also somewhatlessened by the lessened blood-supply, yet the ratio of repairto waste is increased. The complex nerve- molecules arebuilt up to higher and higher grades of instability, until itonly needs a slight stimulus from without, in the shape of asensation of sound or of light or of touch, to elicit a dischargeof nerve- force from the cerebral ganglia. This discharge isinstantly answered by a rush of blood, which distends thecerebral arteries, revives consciousness, and holds in abeyancethe contractile energy of the sympathetic nerve, until thedecreasing ratio of repair to waste by and by necessitates arecurrence of the rhythm. Thus the alternation of sleepand wakefulness is due to a periodic variation in the ratiobetween the amount of nerve-force stored up in the cerebrumand the amount stored up in the sympathetic ganglia. Werecognize this truth in practice when we seek to induce sleepby stimulating the sympathetic nerve with such substancesas bromide of potassium.The phenomenon of sleep is still further interesting asthe most familiar instance of the dependence of biologicrhythms upon astronomic rhythms. All organisms, animaland vegetable, from the highest to the lowest, exhibit alternations in the total distributions of their forces, which coincidewith the periodic appearance and disappearance of sunlight.The longer astronomic rhythm, known as the earth's annualrevolution, causes corresponding rhythms in vegetable andanimal life; witness the blossoming and leafing of plantsin the spring, the revival of insect activity at the sameseason, the periodic flights of migratory birds, the hybernating sleep of many vertebrates, and the thickened coats orthe altered habits of others that do not hybernate. If weX 2308 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. IL.consider the species instead of the individual, we shall findthat still longer astronomic rhythms, often complicated bygeologic rhythms, cause periodic changes in the total manifestations of life upon the earth's surface. Recurring epochsof high eccentricity of the earth's orbit have so altered thedistribution of solar radiance as to cause violent climaticvicissitudes. Large portions of the earth have been coveredby glaciers, and there have been ensuing migrations of plantsand animals, attended by the extinction of many forms, andby specific variations among the survivors. Other rhythmsin the distribution of life have been caused by alternationein the elevation and subsidence of continents and islands.And all the foregoing causes, taken altogether, have beenendlessly complicated by rhythmic changes in the relationsof various groups of organisms to one another. The complexity of such relations is strikingly illustrated in aninstance given by Mr. Darwin. The fertilization of heartsease and red clover is impossible without the agency ofhumble-bees in carrying the pollen from one flower toanother. Other bees do not visit these flowers, as theirprobosces are not long enough to reach the nectar; whilemoths, which have sufficiently long probosces, are not heavyenough to bend down the petals in such a way that theanthers above may shed pollen upon their backs. Hencethe partial or total destruction of humble-bees must involvethe decrease or extinction of heartsease and red clover. Butobservation shows that the mortal foes of humble-bees arefield-mice, who destroy their combs and nests. It is estimated that in England more than two-thirds of eachyeneration of humble-bees are destroyed by mice. Henceit follows that the cat is a friend and protector of thehumble-bee; and that any sensible variation in the numberof cats in a given district must indirectly cause a variationin the numbers of heartsease and red clover which grow inthe neighbourhood. It is only needful to add that in suchDHL. 11.] RHYTHM. 309variations we have a series of endlessly complex rhythms;as is obvious from the fact that the number of individualsin any species is never constant, but is continually fluctuating about an average mean.The cumulative result of suchrhythms, going on through countless ages, is witnessed inthe rhythmical changes of organic species revealed bypalæontology. In all ages species have been encroachingon each other, and while some have been growing moreabundant, others have gradually disappeared, Thus we findsuccessive floras and faunas, characteristic of successivegeological epochs, showing that " life on the earth has not progressed uniformly, but in immense undulations."For the further illustration and more abundant proof ofthe law that all motion is rhythmical, I must refer to Mr.Spencer's " First Principles," where the subject is discussedmuch more fully than is here practicable. But our lastillustration, from the succession of forms of life upon theearth, suggests still another supremely important aspectin which the general principle must be viewed, before weleave it.As we saw in our initial illustration, from the movementsof heavenly bodies, where a rhythmical motion is dependent on only two compounded forces, the result is a closedcurve. Though each planet is, strictly speaking, subjectedto a great number of variously compounded forces exertedon it by all its companion planets, yet these forces are soinsignificant in quantity, compared to the two chief forces ofsolar gravity and the planet's own momentum, that they donot essentially alter the result. They prevent the curve inwhich any given plant moves from being perfectly regular,but they do not prevent its being a closed curve so far as thesolar system alone is concerned; so that, at the end of eachhythm, the distribution of forces is very nearly the same asat its beginning. If there were only two bodies concerned,it would be exactly the same; every rhythm would end in310 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY [PT. II.bringing about precisely the same state of things with whichit started. But where there are a vast number of forces atwork, as in the evolution of the earth and of life upon itssurface, the probability is infinitely small that any pair offorces can so far predominate over all the rest as to reducetheir effects to comparative insignificance. Hence the resulting rhythms will not be closed curves, but endlessly complicated undulations; and every rhythm will end in bringingabout a state of things somewhat different from that inwhich it started. To recur to some of the illustrations abovegiven:-No geologic rhythm of elevation and subsidenceleaves the distribution of land and water over the earthexactly as it found it. No biologic rhythm of sleep andwakefulness leaves the distribution of nutritive forces inthe organism precisely as it found it; otherwise it wouldnot be true that each day's functional activity is a memberof the series of changes which is bearing us from the cradleto the grave. In an exogenous tree each annual rhythm resultein a permanent increase of woody fibre: in a mammal itresults in at least a relative increase of the solid constituentsof the body as compared with the fluid and semi-fluid constituents. And our illustration from palæontology showsthat the series of enormous rhythms in which the history oforganic life consists, has introduced a new state of things ineach geologic epoch.¹We have now proceeded as far as a survey of the widestgeneralizations of physics can carry us, and before we attemptto go further, we may fitly present in a single view the conclusions reached in this and in the preceding chapter.We observed first that the three departments of abstractconcrete science are alike concerned with the investigation ofche general laws of force as manifested in the motions ofHence the theory of Vico, that social progress takes place in cycles is which history literally repeats itself, is based upon a very inadequate know edge of the results of the cooperation of many interacting forces.SH. II.]RHYTHM. 311matter. By an analysis of the widest propositions whichthese sciences can furnish, concerning the movements ofmasses and molecules, we arrived at the axiom that everymanifestation of force must be preceded and followed by anequivalent manifestation. We saw that this axiom is involved,alike in every special theorem with which each physicalinquiry sets out, and in the general theorem of the uniformityof law and the universality of causation with which allphysical inquiries must equally set out. We saw next thatthis axiom gives rise to three corollaries which, as expressingtruths that transcend the sphere of any single science, belongto that transcendental region of knowledge which we haveassigned to philosophy. By our first corollary it appearedthat any given mode of motion may be metamorphosed intoseveral other modes; so that, when we contemplate such acomplex system of motions as that presented by the variousaggregations of matter upon the surface of our earth, itbecomes legitimate to inquire from what antecedent form ofenergy proceeded all these motions. This inquiry we shallmake in due season. By our second corollary it appearedthat where motion results from the composition of two ormore forces, it must always take place in the line of leastresistance; but, that the difficulty of calculating or predictingthis resultant line must increase very rapidly with eachaddition to the number of forces which are concerned inproducing it.Our third corollary has given us glimpses of a truth, which,though less immediately obvious, is equally necessary andequally important with any of the foregoing. We have seenthat, in the hypothetical case of a single moving body in anotherwise empty universe, the direction of motion would bein a straight line, and the velocity would be uniform. Inthehypothetical case of & single pair of mutually attractingbodies moving in independent directions in an otherwiseempty universe, the motion would be rhythmical both in312 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. 1 .―direction and in velocity, but it would take place in closedcurves, and the distribution of forces at the end of eachrhythm would be the same as at the beginning. In thesimplest of actual cases, however, in the case of ourplanetary system,-such a result, though apparently realizedso long as we eliminate from the problem all factors save thetwo principal ones, is not truly realized; and if we were totake into account the motions of the whole system, due tothe forces exerted upon it by remote stellar systems, weshould see that it is very far from being realized. Viewedin its relations to the entire visible universe of stellar bodies,no planet moves in a closed curve; and if we also take inteconsideration the unceasing loss of molecular motion byeach cosmical body, we shall perceive that even in thisrelatively simple class of cases, the rhythms are far too complex ever to result in the reproduction of a given distribution of forces. In the relatively complex cases furnished bygeology and biology, this truth is still more strikinglyexemplified. Thus in the actual case with which our scienchas to deal the case of a universe in which innumerablemillions of bodies, from a gigantic star like Sirius down tan inconceivably minute atom of hydrogen, are ceaselesslyexerting forces upon each other-we see, not only that almotions must be rhythmical, but that every rhythm, greaor small, must end in some redistribution; be it general oflocal, of matter and motion.Or to state this final conclusion in a slightly different}form:-The mere coexistence of a vast number of bodies inthe universe necessitates perpetual rhythm, resulting in acontinuous redistribution of matter and motion. Thus freshsignificance is given to the truth vaguely surmised byHerakleitos, that ceaseless change is the law of all things,and that the universe of phenomena is in a never-endingflux. But the scientific demonstration further shows us that' he change is always from an old state to a new state, andCH. N.]RHYTHM. 31thence to another new state, but never back to the old stateAmong the untold millions of forces which science contemplates as cooperating to bring about any given state ofthings, the permutations and combinations are practicallyinfinite; and not until they have all been exhausted can anexpired epoch be reproduced in all its features.CHAPTER IIIEVOLUTION AND DISSOLUTION.WE must now consider what use is to be made of theseuniversal truths which the foregoing survey of the abstractconcrete sciences has disclosed. For if we inquire whetherthese theorems, singly or combined, can be made to supplythe materials needful for constructing such an organized bodyof truths as may fitly be called Cosmic Philosophy, —it willrequire but a brief consideration to show us that much moreis needed.In respect of universality, no doubt, these truths leavenothing to be desired. That every manifestation of forcemust be preceded and followed by an equivalent manifestation; that correlated forms of energy are transmutable oneinto the other; that motion follows the line of least resistance; and that there is a continuous rhythmical redistribution of matter and motion;-these are propositions whichare true alike of all orders of phenomena, and may thereforejustly claim to be regarded, in a certain sense, as philosophictruths. Yet we need only fancy ourselves enunciating theseabstract theorems as of themselves supplying the explanationof any given order of concrete phenomena, in order to realizehow far we still remain from our desired goal. If we wereto remind a biologist that in every step of his investigationshe takes for granted the persistence of force, he would doubtCH. III.] EVOLUTION AND DISSOLUTION. 315less assent; but if we were to go on and assert that uponthis axiom might be directly reared a science of organicphenomena, he would laugh us to scorn. If we were toassure him that every form of energy manifested by hisorganisms, from the molar motions of the stomach in digestion and the lungs in respiration to the molecular motions ofcerebral ganglia, must have pre- existed in some other form,he would thoroughly agree with us, but would ask us ofwhat use is all this unless we can trace the course and theresults of the transformations. If we were still to insistthat all the motions taking place in the aforesaid organismsoccur rhythmically, along lines of least resistance, and thatevery such rhythm ends in a more or less considerable redistribution of molecular motions, we might still be met by theanswer that all this does not give us a science of biologyunless we can also point out the general character and direction of the changes in which organic rhythms result.In other words our biologist might say to us, with Mr.Spencer, that all these profound truths, with which we wereseeking to take away his occupation, are analytical truths,and that " no number of analytical truths will make up thatsynthesis of thought which alone can be an interpretation ofthe synthesis of things. The decomposition of phenomena intotheir elements," (he would continue, ) " is but a preparationfor understanding phenomena in their state of composition, asactually manifested. To have ascertained the laws of thefactors is not at all to have ascertained the laws of theircooperation. The question is, not how any factor behavesby itself, or under some imagined simple conditions; nor isit even how one factor behaves under the complicated conditions of actual existence. The thing to be expressed is thejoint product of the factors under all its various aspects.Only when we can formulate the total process, have wegained that knowledge of it which Philosophy aspires to."¹1 First Principles, p. 274.316 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. II.It is necessary for us therefore, having finished ouranalysis, to begin the work of synthesis. In the course ofour search for the widest generalizations of Physics, we discovered, as the most concrete result of analysis, that there isgoing on throughout the known universe a continuous redistribution of matter and motion. Let us now, following outthe hint of our imaginary interlocutor, endeavour to ascertainthe extent, character, and direction of this continuous redistribution. Have the infinitude of changes in the aspect ofthings, which the rhythm of motion necessitates, any commoncharacter, and if they have, what is that character? Are theredistributions of matter and motion, which are going onall around us, aimless and unrelated, or do they tend incommon toward some definable result? Can any formulabe found which will express some dynamic principle, true ofthe whole endless metamorphosis?Or, to state the case in a still more concrete form, whenwe assert " that knowledge is limited to the phenomenal, wehave by implication asserted that the sphere of knowledge iscoextensive with the phenomenal. Hence, wherever we nowfind Being so conditioned as to act on our senses, there arisethe questions-how came it thus conditioned? and how willit cease to be thus conditioned? Unless on the assumptionthat it acquired a sensible form at the moment of perception,and lost its sensible form the moment after perception, itmust have had an antecedent existence under this sensibleform , and will have a subsequent existence under thissensible form. These preceding and succeeding existencesunder sensible forms are possible subjects of knowledge;and knowledge has obviously not reached its limits until ithas united the past, present, and future histories into awhole."1Let us not fail to note that science and ordinary knowledge concern themselves with such problems no less than1 First Principles, p. 278.CH. III.] EVOLUTION AND DISSOLUTION. 317philosophy; and that in seeking to formulate the pust,present, and future history of that aggregate of sensiblephenomena which constitutes the knowable universe, philosophy transcends the sphere of science in just the same waythat science transcends the sphere of ordinary knowledge,and in no other. A large portion of that imperfectlyorganized knowledge which serves to guide the actions evenof the least educated men, consists of information concerningthe past and future careers of the objects which surroundthem. Thus we recognize the child of twenty years ago inthe grown man of to-day; we know that the coat which theman wears recently existed in the shape of unspun andunwoven wool upon a sheep's back; and that the grassupon which this sheep fed, consisted of matter integrated bycountless seeds with the aid of solar radiance. And weknow, besides, that the man and the coat which he wears,the sheep and the grass upon which it feeds, must alike passfrom their present state of aggregation into a future state ofdissolution. This kind of knowledge science is ever extending, as when it traces back the man and the sheep tomicroscopic germ - cells, and the wool and the grass to certainnitrogenous and hydro-carbon compounds, pre- existing inthe atmosphere and soil. Obviously, therefore, it is thebusiness of philosophy, extending and generalizing the samekind of information, to describe the universal features of theprocess by which cognizable objects acquire and lose thesensible forms under which we know them.By pointing out the two most obvious features of thisprocess, we shall render still more intelligible the characterof the problem which a synthetic philosophy must attemptto solve. The foregoing illustrations show us that a completeaccount of anything " must include its appearance out ofthe imperceptible, and its disappearance into the imperceptible. " Now a change of state by virtue of which any objectceases to be imperceptible and becomes perceptible, must be318 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.[FT. 14a change from a state of diffusion to a state of aggregation ,and the converse change, from aggregation to diffusion, mustbe the change by virtue of which the object again becomesimperceptible. If, for example, we study a cloud, we findthat a complete history of it is contained in the explanationof its concentration from millions of particles of aqueousvapour, and its subsequent dissipation into a host of such particles. In like manner, if we study an organism, we find thatfrom germination to final decomposition, its career consists ofan epoch of concentration followed by an epoch of diffusion,A very small portion of its constituent matter pre- existed ina concentrated form in the embryo; by far the greaterportion pre-existed in the shape of dispersed nitrogenousand carbonaceous compounds, which the growing organismhas incorporated with its own structure. Nay, even if weinquire into the previous history of the small portion whichwas concentrated in the embryo, we may trace it back toan epoch at which it existed in a state of dispersion, asfood not yet assimilated by the parent organism. If theorganism in question belong to an order of carnivorousanimals, we shall indeed have to follow its constituent elements through a series of phases of concentration; throughthe tissues of sundry herbivorous animals upon which it hasfed, and again through the tissues of numerous plants uponwhich these have in turn subsisted; but in the end we shallalways arrive at the host of dispersed molecules which theseorganisms have eliminated from the breezes and the tricklingstreamlets by which their leaves and roots were formerlybathed. On the other hand, when the animal dies, and thetree falls to decay, the particles of which they consist areagain dispersed; and though they may again be broughttogether in new combinations, the career of the organismin question is ended with this dispersal. Again if, insteadof a transient cloud or a mobile organism, we contemplatean apparently permanent and immobile rock, we are led to aOH. III.]EVOLUTION AND DISSOLUTION. 319like conclusion. If its origin be purely igneous, this rock mayhave pre-existed as a liquid stream of matter surging beneaththe earth's solid envelope. If its origin be aqueous, its constituent particles were once diffused over a wide area ofcountry, from which they were drawn together through sundryrivulets and rivers, and here at last deposited as sedimentIn either case the process by which the rock has assumedan individual existence has been a process of concentration.And when it ceases to exist-whether it is blasted withgunpowder, or chipped away with chisels, or eaten downby running water, or ground to pieces by ocean waves, orlowered through some long geologic epoch until it is meltedby volcanic heat-in any case its disappearance is effectedby a process of diffusion.But our account is as yet only half complete. In sayingthat the career of any object, from its initial appearanceto its final disappearance, consists of a process of concentration followed by a process of diffusion, we omit an importanthalf of the truth. For in making such a statement, we areattending only to the material elements of which objectsare composed; and we are leaving out of the account themotions, both molar and molecular, which they exhibit,and which constitute an equally important part of the entireprocess. This defect we must now endeavour to remedy.A brief reconsideration of the examples already cited willshow us that universally the concentration of matter is accompanied by a dissipation of motion, while conversely thediffusion of matter is attended by an absorption of motion.The condensation of aqueous vapour into a cloud is effectedwhenever it loses by radiation a greater quantity of thatkind of molecular motion known as heat than it is receivingfrom the sun and the earth and when the loss of motion isstill more considerable, there occurs a further condensationof the aqueous vapour into liquid rain. Conversely, whensolar radiance, direct or reflected, begins to impart to the820 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. ILcondensing cloud an amount of molecular motion in excessof that which it loses from moment to moment, condensationceases, and the particles of vapour begin to be dissipated.The deposit of sediment at the mouth of a river is attendedby the loss of the molar motions which brought its constituent particles from the upland regions which the riverdrains; and the hardening of the sediment into rock is achange to a state of aggregation in which, along with greatercohesion, the particles possess less mobility than before. Inlike manner the hardening of an igneous rock is effectedby cooling, which implies the loss of internal motion. Indeed the phenomena of heat and cold exhibit en masse anillustration of the general principle. The progress of anymass of matter from a gaseous to a liquid, and thence tca solid state, is attended by the continuous dissipation ofmolecular motion; while change in the contrary direction isattended by a continuous absorption of such motion. Withmolar motions the case is precisely similar. Augment thevelocities of the planets, and their orbits will enlarge; thesolar system will occupy a wider space. Diminish theirvelocities, and their orbits will lessen; the solar system willcontract. And in like manner we see that every sensiblemotion on the earth's surface involves a partial disintegrationof the moving body from the earth, while the loss of itsmotion is accompanied by the body's reintegration with theearth." Finally, if we consider the case of organisms, wefind that the incorporation of food into the substance ofthe tissues is constantly accompanied by the giving out ofmotion in some form of organic activity, while conversely,the decomposition which follows death is attended by animmense absorption of molecular motion. The latter statement is proved by the fact that the elements of which suchan organism as the human body is composed, have morethan twenty times the volume when free which they havewhen combined; and it is further illustrated by the fact(6CH. IIL] EVOLUTION AND DISSOLUTION. 321that dead organisms, from which all supply of molecularmotion from without is artificially cut off, are not decomposed. It is thus that animal remains are preserved forages in blown sand and in peat- moss. And it is thus thatthe carcases of primeval mammoths, intact even to the bulbsof the eyes, are found imbedded in arctic ice near the moutheof Siberian rivers, just where they were slain by the cold athousand centuries ago.¹But the study of organic phenomena shows us that ourgeneral theorem needs some further revision. As it nowstands, it runs some risk of being supposed to assert that thecareer of any composite body is at first characterized solelyby the concentration of matter and concomitant dissipationof motion, and is at last characterized solely by the diffusionof matter and concomitant absorption of motion. A referenceto the history of any organism will at once show that this isnot the case. While the human body, for example, is continually incorporating with its tissues new matter in theshape of prepared food, large portions of the matter once incorporated are continually diffused in the shape of excretionsthrough the lungs, liver, skin, and kidneys. And while it isconstantly parting with motion, in the shape of radiatedheat, of expended nerve-force, and of molar motion communicated to the surrounding objects which it touches orhandles, it is at the same time absorbing large quantities ofmolecular motion latent in its prepared nutriment. But atno time are the antagonist processes exactly balanced. Duringearly life the excess of concentration over diffusion of matterresults in growth. At a later date the rhythms due to thealternate predominance of concentration and diffusion, are exhibited in continual fluctuations in weight. Yet the fact thatthe healthy body usually increases in weight up to a lateperiod, shows that ordinarily concentration is still predo1 The heads of these animals are nearly always directed southward. See Lyell, Principles of Geology, 10th edit. vol. i. p. 184.VOL. L. Y322 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. ILminant. And this is still more convincingly proved by thefact that in old age, when the body frequently decreasesboth in weight and in volume, the weight decreases less thanthe volume. There is a general increase in density, and concomitant loss of mobility, due to the increased ratio of thesolid to the fluid constituents of the tissues, and exhibited inthe hardness and brittleness of the bones, the stiffness of thejoints, the sluggishness of the circulation, and the torpidityof the brain. Finally when, in accordance with the generalprinciple of rhythm, the consolidation has gone so far as tobecome self- defeating, the antagonist process gains themastery for which it has all along been striving, and theconstituents of the body are separated and scattered.But the coexistence and alternate mastery of these twoopposing processes, though most strikingly exemplified in thecase of organisms, is by no means confined to organic phenomena. Neither in the cloud, nor in the rock, which we havechosen as examples, does concentration or diffusion ever goon alone. The one is always antagonized by the other.Even while the cloud is most rapidly losing motion and integrating matter, it is receiving some solar radiance, eitherdirect or reflected from the earth or moon, and the absorptionof this radiance causes some disintegration of its matter.Even while it is most quickly vanishing under the burningsolar rays, this cloud is still simultaneously losing heat byradiation, and the loss tends to reintegrate it. And likewiseour sedimentary rocky deposit, while aggregating, is nevertheless daily abraded by passing currents, and at longerintervals is perhaps cracked by those telluric vibrationsknown as earthquakes.As finally amended then, our formula asserts that thecareer of any composite body is a series of more or lesscomplicated rhythms, of which the differential result is, atfirst, the integration of its constituent matter and the dissipation of part of its contained motion, and, at last, the diffusionCH. III. ] EVOLUTION AND DISSOLUTION. 823of its constituent matter accompanied by reabsorption of thelost motion, or its equivalent.Thus we are gradually reaching something like a concreteresult. As we saw, in the preceding chapter, that rhythmnecessitates a continual redistribution of matter and motionthroughout the knowable universe, we now find that thiscontinual redistribution everywhere results in alternate concentration and diffusion. Such, indeed, must inevitably bethe result. The same universal principle of dynamics whichprevents the perturbations in the solar system from everaccumulating all in the same direction, is also to be seenexemplified, on a more general scale, in the law that neitheraggregation nor diffusion can proceed indefinitely withoutbeing checked by the counter-process. Unless we supposethat the sum of the forces which produce aggregation is infinitely greater or infinitely less than the sum of the forceswhich resist aggregation, so that either the one or the othermay be left out of the account, we must admit that the onlypossible outcome of the conflict between the two is a seriesof alternations, both general and local, between aggregationand dissipation.It is now the time to apply to these antagonist processessome more convenient and accurate names than the halfdozen pairs of correlative synonyms by which we have thusfar described them. The names selected by Mr. Spencer willbe practically justified by the entire exposition contained inthe following chapters; but even the cases already fragmentarily studied enable us partly to realize the significanceof the terms Evolution and Dissolution, by which he hasdesignated these processes. In Mr. Spencer's terminology,the integration of matter and concomitant dissipation ofmotion is Evolution; while the absorption of motion andconcomitant disintegration of matter is Dissolution. Boththese terms possess the signal advantage that, while theyadmit of precise scientific definition they are at the sameY 2324 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. ILtime currently used in senses strictly analogous to those inwhich they are here employed. As we shall presently see,the phenomena of organic life are those in which both theprimary and the secondary characteristics of Evolution andDissolution are most conspicuously exemplified. Especiallyin the career of the animal organism, these complementaryprocesses are manifested in groups of phenomena that aremore easily generalized . and more immediately interestingthan any others of like complexity; and to these groups ofphenomena the terms Evolution and Dissolution have longbeen popularly applied.On a superficial view it may now seem as if we were readyto proceed, in the next chapter, to describe in detail theprocess of Evolution, as exemplified in that most gigantioinstance of concentration of matter and dissipation of motion,-the development of our planetary system, by condensationand radiation, from ancestral nebulous matter. In thisorigin, by aggregation, of our system of worlds, and in thatultimate dissipation of it into nebulous matter which sundryastronomic facts have long taught us to anticipate, we shallpresently find a complete and striking illustration of thedynamic principles herein set forth. But we are not yetquite prepared to enter upon the consideration of thesephenomena. We need but remember that in the development of the solar system, with its mutually dependentmembers sustaining complex and definite relations to eachother, much more is implied besides concentration of planetary matter and diffusion of molecular motion in the shape ofheat; we need but remember this, and we shall see thatsome further preliminary study is requisite. While, indeed,the primary characteristics of Evolution and Dissolution arethose which are expressed in the pair of definitions abovegiven, and which it has been the object of the foregoinginquiry to illustrate; there are also, as just hinted, certainsecondary characteristics which it is equally necessary toH. III. ] EVOLUTION AND DISSOLUTION. 325formulate. While Evolution always consists primarily in anintegration of matter and concomitant dissipation of motion,it ordinarily implies much more than this. And it is obviousthat only when all the characteristics, both primary andsecondary, of Evolution and Dissolution, are expressed in asingle formula, can we be said to have obtained the law ofthe continuous redistribution of matter and motion whichrhythm necessitates throughout the knowable universe.To show how this--the most sublime achievement ofmodern science—has been brought about, will be the objectof the following chapter.CHAPTER IV.THE LAW OF EVOLUTION.LAPLACE has somewhere reminded us that, while gratefullyrendering to Newton the homage due to him for his transcendent achievements, we must not forget how singularlyfortunate he was in this-that there was but one law ofgravitation to be discovered. The implication that, if Newtonhad not lived, Laplace might himself have been the happydiscoverer, is perhaps a legitimate one, though it does notnow especially concern us. But the implied assertion thatNature had no more hidden treasures comparable in worthand beauty to that with which she rewarded the patientsagacity of the great astronomer, is one which recent eventshave most signally refuted. We now know that other lawsremained behind-as yet others still remain-unrevealed;laws of nature equalling the law of gravitation in universality,and moreover quite as coy of detection. For while it maybe admitted that the demonstrations in the " Principia 'equired the highest power of quantitative reasoning yetmanifested by the human mind; and while the difficultiesand discouragements amid which Newton approached histask, destitute as he was alike of modern methods of measurement and of the resources of modern analysis, impressupon us still more forcibly the wonderful character of the"CH, IV.] THE LAW OF EVOLUTION. 327achievement; it must still be claimed that the successfulcoordination of the myriad-fold phenomena formulated bythe Law of Evolution, was a gigantic task, requiring the fullexertion of mental powers no less extraordinary than thoserequired by the other. In an essay published thirteen yearsago, youthful enthusiasm led me to speak of Mr. Spencer'slabours as comparable to those of Newton both in scope andin importance. More mature reflection has confirmed thisview, and suggests a further comparison between the mentalqualities of the two thinkers; resembling each other as theydo, alike in the audacity of speculation which propounds farreaching hypotheses and in the scientific soberness whichpatiently verifies them; while the astonishing mathematicalgenius peculiar to the one is paralleled by the equally uniquepower of psychologic analysis displayed by the other. Asin grandeur of conception and relative thoroughness of elaboration, so also in the vastness of its consequences—in theextent of the revolution which it is destined to effect inmen's modes of thinking, and in their views of the universe- Mr. Spencer's discovery is on a par with Newton's. Indeed, by the time this treatise is concluded, we may perhapssee reasons for regarding it as, in the latter respect, thesuperior of the two.To give anything like an adequate idea of the extent andimportance of this discovery, or of the enormous mass ofinductive evidence which joins with deduction in establishing it, is of course impracticable within the limits of a singlechapter. We must be content for the present with exhibiting a rude outline - sketch of its most conspicuousfeatures, leaving it for the succeeding series of discussionsto finish the picture. Let us begin by briefly summing upthe results already obtained.It has been shown that the coexistence of antagonistforces throughout the knowable universe necessitates a universal rhythm of motion; and that in proportion to the328 [PT. II. COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.number of forces anywhere concerned in producing a givenset of motions, the resulting rhythms are complex. It hasbeen further shown that, save where the rhythms are absolutely simple-a case which is never actually realized--there must occur a redistribution of matter and motion asthe result of each rhythm. It next appeared that such aredistribution involves on the one hand an integration ofmatter, which implies a concomitant dissipation of motion,and on the other hand a disintegration of matter, whichimplies a concomitant absorption of motion. The formerprocess, which results in the acquirement of an individualexistence by sensible objects, has been named Evolution:the latter process, which results in the loss of individualexistence by sensible objects, has been named Dissolution.And we saw it to be a corollary from the universality ofrhythm that, while these two antagonist processes must everbe going on simultaneously, there must be an alternation ofepochs during which now the former and now the latter ispredominant. In conclusion, it was barely hinted that thesetwo fundamental modes of redistribution must give rise, inthe majority of cases, to secondary redistributions, whichit is the business of a scientific philosophy to define andformulate.Now, as we are about to start upon a long and complicatedinquiry, the proper treatment of which must task our utmostresources of exposition, it will be desirable at the outset todisencumber ourselves of all such luggage as we are notabsolutely obliged to take along with us. We shall therefore, for the present, leave the process of Dissolution entirelyout of the account, or shall refer to it only incidentally, inases where such a reference may assist in the elucidation ofthe counter-process. In the following chapter we shall haveccasion to treat of Dissolution in some detail as exemplifiedin the probable future disintegration of our planetary system ,at present we are concerned only with Evolution, which weSH. IV.] THE LAW OF EVOLUTION. 329have already seen to consist in the integration of matter andconcomitant dissipation of motion, but which, as we shallpresently see, implies in most cases much more than this.Let us first point out the conditions under which the secondary redistributions attending Evolution take place; and letus then proceed to point out the common characteristics ofthese secondary changes.Obviously in speaking of secondary redistributions that goon while a body is integrating its matter and losing itsmotion, we refer to redistributions among the parts of thebody and among the relative motions of the parts, —or, inother words, to alterations in structure and function going onwithin the body. Now the ease with which such redistributions are effected, and the ease with which they aremaintained, must depend alike, though in precisely oppositeways, upon the amount of motion retained by the integratingbody. The greater the amount of retained motion, the moreeasily will internal redistributions be effected . The smallerthe amount of retained motion, the more easily will suchredistributions be rendered permanent. These propositionsare so abstruse as to require some further illustration.When water is converted, by loss of its internal motion,into ice, the amount of secondary rearrangement whichoccurs among its particles is comparatively slight, but it ispermanent so long as the state of integration lasts. Duringthe continuance of the solid state there is not enoughmobility among the particles to admit of further rearrangement to any conspicuous extent. On the other hand, aftersteam has been integrated into water, the retention of a considerable amount of molecular motion allows internal rearrangement to go on so easily and rapidly that no momentaryphase of it has a chance to become permanent; and therecan thus be no such stable arrangement of parts as we callstructure. The phenomena of crystallization supply us withkindred, but slightly different examples. When a crystal is830 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.[PT. II.deposited from a solution, there is a certain point up to whichthe retention of motion keeps the crystal's molecules fromuniting; but as soon as this point is passed, the motion issuddenly lost, the crystal solidifies, and there is no furtherredistribution of its particles. Conversely, when a moltenmetal is allowed to cool until it assumes a plastic semi-fluidstate, its molecular motion is lost so slowly that a perceptiblerearrangement of parts is possible: currents may be set upin it, gravity will cause it to spread out wherever it is notconfined at the side, and pressure here and there will variouslymould it. But when it becomes solid, the rearrangementswhich occurred latest become permanent, and further rearrangements cannot be produced save by a fresh supply ofmolecular motion. In like manner, when we come to studyplanetary evolution, we shall find strong reasons for believingthat on small bodies, like the moon and the asteroids, whichhave rapidly lost their internal heat, there has been butlittle chance for such complex secondary rearrangements ashave occurred upon our relatively large and slowly coolingearth.Even after the attainment of solidity, however, a newsupply of motion from without may cause some furtherredistribution without causing the body to relapse intofluidity. Thus a wrought-iron rail, which when new istough and fibrous, gradually acquires the brittle crystallinetexture of cast-iron, under the influence of the vibrationscommunicated by the cars which pass over it. And themagnetization of steel rods, when fastened in the meridianand frequently jarred, is cited by Mr. Spencer as a fact oflike import. Many other excellent illustrations, gatheredfrom physics and chemistry, may be found in the thirteenthchapter of the second part of " First Principles."ניי1 Throughout this work, reference is made only to the second and re written edition of " First Principles, " London, 1867. The statement of the ' aw of evolution, as contained in the first edition, is much less complete and toherent.CH. IV.] THE LAW OF EVOLUTION 331If now we contemplate in a single view the generalprinciples above illustrated, we shall seem for a moment tohave got into difficulties. Unavoidably, in using the wordEvolution, we have suggested the idea of increase in structuralcomplexity; and such increase of course implies a considerable amount of permanent internal rearrangement asconsequent upon the primary process of integration. Yetunder the conditions thus far studied, we find that " on theone hand, a large amount of secondary redistribution ispossible only where there is a great quantity of containedmotion; and, on the other hand, these redistributions canhave permanence only where the contained motion hasbecome small-opposing conditions which seem to negativeany large amount of permanent secondary redistribution."We must therefore search for some more peculiar and specialcombination of conditions before we can understand howEvolution may result in great structural complexity.It is in the case of organic bodies " that these apparentlycontradictory conditions are reconciled; and that, by thereconciliation of them, permanent secondary redistributionsimmense in extent are made possible. " The distinctivepeculiarity of organic bodies " consists in the combination ofmatter into a form embodying an enormous amount of motionat the same time that it has a great degree of concentration.”Let us enumerate the several ways in which organic bodiesare enabled to retain vast quantities of molecular motion,without losing their high degree of concentration. The factsto be contemplated are among the most beautiful and strikingfacts which the patient interrogation of nature has everelicited.In the first place, while one of the four chief componentsof organic matter is carbon, a solid substance which cannotbe fused by the greatest heat that man can produce, the otherchief components-oxygen, hydrogen, and nitrogen-aregases which human art is unable to liquefy. At atemperature832 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY {PT. IL .of more than 200 degrees below the zero of Fahrenheit, andunder a pressure so enormous as to shorten the steel pistonemployed, oxygen remains gaseous; and hydrogen andnitrogen display a like obstinate molecular mobility. Now,of these four substances, carbon has the most highly compounded molecule. In chemical language, the molecule ofcarbon is tetratomic, while that of nitrogen is triatomic, thatof oxygen is diatomic, and that of hydrogen is monatomic.That is to say, a single molecule of carbon will hold in combination two molecules of oxygen, or four molecules ofhydrogen; while three molecules of carbon will hold fourmolecules of nitrogen. It follows that in any organic compound, made up of the four above-named elements, a largenumber of molecules, possessing enormous mobility, must beheld in combination bya relatively small number of moleculespossessing little mobility. And, since it is a corollary fromthe persistence of force that the sum of properties belongingto any compound must be the resultant of the propertiesbelonging to its constituent elements, it follows that a compound molecule of organic matter must concentrate a greatamount of motion in a small space. If, for example, wesuppose ten molecules of carbon united with four of oxygen,eight of hydrogen, and eight of nitrogen, we shall have acompound in which ten immobile molecules hold togethertwenty highly mobile molecules. And while the twentyretain much of their mobility, the immobile ten prevent thismobility from disintegrating the compound.Here we have reached a most beautiful and marvelloustruth. If we now proceed, secondly, to follow out the way inwhich these quantitative relations are compounded, the casewill appear still more remarkable. Instead of tens andtwenties, we have to deal with hundreds of integratedmolecules. Instead of such hypothetical cases as the onejust cited, we have to contemplate real cases like the following. A single molecule of albumen is built up of tweJH. IV.] THE LAW OF EVOLUTION. 333molecules of sulphur and one of phosphorus, compoundedwith ten organic molecules, of which each one contains fortymolecules of carbon, five of nitrogen, twelve of oxygen, andthirty-one of hydrogen. Or, to reduce the statement toits simplest form,-in every molecule of albumen we have1,600 atomic equivalents of carbon, 150 of nitrogen, 240 ofoxygen, 310 of hydrogen, 10 of sulphur, and 6 of phosphorus;making a grand total of 2,316 atomic equivalents. And themolecule of fibrine is still more intricately compounded.Thirdly, when we recollect that the simplest organicmatter actually existing contains not one but very manyalbuminous molecules, and that these molecules are arranged,not in the crystalloid, but in the colloid form, -in " clustersof clusters which have movements in relation to one another,"-we see still more clearly how vast must be the quantity ofmotion locked up within a small compass.Our fourth item is perhaps the most remarkable of all.In the albumen-molecule, the sum of all the atomic equivalents, except those of carbon, is 716. In order to hold thesein combination, only 716 atomic equivalents of carbon wouldappear to be needed; yet we find 1,600 equivalents. Whythis apparent excess of carbon?—The answer is to be foundin the fact that nitrogen, unlike most other substances,absorbs heat on entering into combination. To the molecular motion which keeps it when free in a gaseous state,it adds a vast quantity of molecular motion. It has beencalculated that the union of a pound of oxygen with nitrogen,in forming nitrous oxide, is attended by the absorption ofenough heat to raise the temperature of 9,232 pounds ofwater one degree Centigrade. It is probably owing to thispeculiarity that nitrogen, which is so inert when free, is sowonderfully active when combined. Hence, too, we maynderstand the extreme instability of such nitrogenous substances as gunpowder, gun- cotton, and nitro- glycerine. Andhence we may begin to discern the reason why nitrogen is334 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY [PT. II. .the most important of the chemical elements concerned inmaintaining vital activity. Now when we compare thisproperty of nitrogen with the apparent excess of carbon inthe albumen- molecule, we may fairly surmise that the twofacts indicate a balance between the forces that tend to produce internal rearrangement and the forces that tend toprevent disintegration.Fifthly, besides the fact that organic bodies usually possessan amount of heat which keeps their temperature somewhatabove that of their inorganic environment, we have to notethe fact that all organic matter is permeated by water.Hence, while sufficiently solid to preserve their continuity ofstructure, organic bodies are sufficiently plastic to allow ofmuch internal rearrangement.If we had time, it would be interesting to go on and tracethe facts just enumerated through many complex exemplifications. We might comment at length upon the significanceof the facts that certain animals, as the Rotifera, lose theirvitality when dried and regain it when wetted; that vitalactivity everywhere demands a supply of heat, and that themost complex organisms are in general the warmest; thatanimals contain more nitrogen than plants, and are at thesame time more highly evolved; that carnivorous animalsare relatively stronger and more active than herbivorousanimals; that the parts of animals which are the seats ofthe highest vitality are mainly nitrogenous, while the moreinert parts are mainly carbonaceous; that the highly nitrogenous matter composing the nervous system is nevertheless-as if to preserve the balance-always accompanied byinert carbonaceous fat; and that, while a nitrogenous dietrenders possible the greatest quantity of physical and mentalactivity, at the same time carbonaceous alcohol retards thewaste of nervous tissue.But even without entering upon such a course of illustration-which would oblige us to defer our main subject untilCH. IV.)THE LAW OF EVOLUTION.833another occasion-we are now enabled to see how it is thatorganic bodies can practically solve the dynamic paradox ofacquiring a high degree of concentration, even while retaining an immense amount of motion. We are prepared tofind, under these quite peculiar conditions, the structuralrearrangements characteristic of Evolution carried on to agreat extent. And we need not be surprised at finding thesesecondary phenomena here displayed so conspicuously as toobscure the significance of the primary phenomenon, integration. It was, in fact, through the study of organic phenomena by physiologists that a formula was first obtained forthe most conspicuous features of Evolution; while the lessobtrusive but more essential feature not only remained unnoticed until Mr. Spencer discerned it, but was not adequately treated even by him previous to the publication ofhis rewritten " First Principles," in 1867. I think it therefore advisable, in dealing with the law as generalized fromorganic phenomena, to begin by describing these most conspicuous features. We shall thus obtain a clearer view ofthe whole subject than we could well obtain in any otherway. Having shown that Evolution is always and primarilyan integration of matter attended by a dissipation of motion;and having shown that under certain conditions, most completely realized by organic bodies, certain secondary butequally important phenomena of structural rearrangementmay be expected to accompany this fundamental process;we must next show what these secondary phenomena are.The exposition will be rendered clearer by the preliminaryexplanation of four technical terms, which will continuallyrecur, and which must be thoroughly understood before anyfurther step can be taken toward comprehending the Law ofEvolution. These terms are neither obscure in themselves,nor newly coined, but because we shall henceforth employthem in a strict and special sense, they require carefuldefinition.836 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. ILI. An object is said to be hom*ogeneous when each of itsparts is like every other part. An illustration is not easy tofind, since perfect hom*ogeneity is not known to exist. Butthere is such a thing as relative hom*ogeneity; and we saythat a piece of gold is hom*ogeneous as compared with apiece of wood; or that a wooden ball is hom*ogeneous ascompared with an orange.II. An object is said to be heterogeneous when its parts donot all resemble one another. All known objects are more orless heterogeneous. But, relatively speaking, a tree is saidto be heterogeneous as compared with the seed from which ithas sprung; and an orange is heterogeneous as compared witha wooden ball.III. Differentiation is the arising of an unlikeness betweenany two of the units which go to make up an aggregate. Itis the process through which objects increase in heterogeneity. A piece of cast- iron, before it is exposed to the air isrelatively hom*ogeneous. But when, by exposure to the air,it has acquired a coating of ferric oxide, or iron-rust, it isrelatively heterogeneous. The units composing its outsideare unlike the units composing its inside; or, in other words,its outside is differentiated from its inside.IV. The term integration we have already partly defined asthe concentration of the material units which go to make upany aggregate. But a complete definition must recognizethe fact that, along with the integration of wholes, theregoes on (in all cases in which structural complexity isattained) an integration of parts. This secondary integration may be defined as the segregation, or grouping together,of those units of a heterogeneous aggregate which resembleone another. A good example is afforded by crystallization.The particles of the crystallizing substance, which resembleeach other, and which do not resemble the particles of thesolvent fluid, gradually unite to form the crystal; which isthus said to be integrated from the solution. Integration isJH. IV.]THE LAW OF EVOLUTION. 327also seen in the rising of cream upon the surface of a dishof milk, and in the frothy collection of carbonic- acid bubblescovering a newly-filled glass of ale.Obviously as it is through differentiation that an aggregateincreases in heterogeneity, so it is through integration that anaggregate increases in definiteness, of structure and function.But there is still another way in which integration is exemplified. Along with increasing heterogeneity and definitenessof structure and function, the evolution of an aggregate ismarked by the increasing subordination of the various functions, with their structures, to the requirements of the generalfunctional activity of the aggregate. In other words, alongwith growing specialization of parts, there is a growingcooperation of parts, and an ever-increasing mutual dependence among parts. An illustration is furnished by thecontrasted facts, that a slightly-evolved animal, like acommon earth-worm, may be cut in two without destroying the life of either part; while a highly- evolved animal,like a dog, is destroyed if a single artery is severed, or ifany one of the viscera is prevented from discharging itspeculiar functions. This third kind of integration is theprocess through which an evolving aggregate increases incoherence. And with this, our definition of the factors whichconcur in the process of evolution is complete.We are now prepared to show inductively that wherever,as in organic aggregates, the conditions permit, the integrationof matter and concomitant dissipation of motion, whichprimarily constitutes Evolution, is attended by a continuouschange from indefinite, incoherent hom*ogeneity to definite,coherent heterogeneity of structure and function, throughsuccessive differentiations and integrations. In illustration ofthis statement, let us describe first, some of the differentiations, and secondly, some of the integrations, which successively occur during the development of an individualorganism.VOL. L 2338 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. ILTwo centuries ago the researches of Harvey on generationestablished the truth that every animal at the outset consistssimply of a structureless and hom*ogeneous germ. Whetherthis germ is detached from the parent organism at eachgeneration, as in all the higher animals, or only at intervalsof several generations, as for example, in the Aphides orplant-lice, matters not to the general argument. In everycase the primitive state of an animal is a state of relativehom*ogeneity. The fertilized ovum of a lion, for instance,possesses at first no obvious characteristic whereby it can bedistinguished from the fertilized ovum of a man, a dog, a parrot,or a tortoise. Each part of the germ- cell is, moreover, asnearly as possible like every other part, in molecular texture,in atomic composition, in temperature, and in specific gravity.Here in two ways we may notice how hom*ogeneity iseventually succeeded by heterogeneity. Inthe first place,all animal germs are hom*ogeneous with respect to eachother, while the animals developed from them present allkinds and degrees of diversity; and, in the second place,each germ is hom*ogeneous with regard to itself, while thecreature developed from it is extremely heterogeneous. Thevegetable world exhibits a state of things essentially thesame, though less conspicuous in its contrasts.Starting from the hom*ogeneous germ, we may follow outa parallel series of differentiations, resulting respectively inmolecular rearrangements of chemical elements and inmolecular and molar modifications of tissues and organs.The chemical differentiations have been so well and so concisely described by Mr. Spencer that I cannot do better thancite the passage entire:-"In plants the albuminous andamylaceous matters which form the substance of the embryo,give origin here to a preponderance of chlorophyll and thereto a preponderance of cellulose. Over the parts that arebecoming leaf-surfaces, certain of the materials are metamorphosed into wax. In this place starch passes into one ofCH. IV. } THE LAW OF EVOLUTION. 339its isomeric equivalents, sugar; and in that place intoanother of its isomeric equivalents, gum. By secondarychange some of the cellulose is modified into wood; whilesome of it is modified into the allied substance which, inlarge masses, we distinguish as cork. And the more numerous compounds thus gradually arising, initiate further unlikenesses by mingling in unlike ratios. An animal ovum,the components of which are at first evenly diffused amongone another, chemically transforms itself in like manner. Itsprotein, its fats, its salts, become dissimilarly proportionedin different localities; and multiplication of isomeric formsleads to further mixtures and combinations that constitutemany minor distinctions of parts. Here a mass darkeningby accumulation of hæmatine, presently dissolves intoblood. There fatty and albuminous matters uniting, composenerve-tissue. At this spot the nitrogenous substance takeson the character of cartilage; and at that, calcareous saltsgathering together in the cartilage, lay the foundation ofbone. All these chemical differentiations slowly and insensibly become more marked and more multiplied ."¹The differentiations of tissues and organs are equallyinteresting. In the growth of any exogenous stem, theouter layer, or bark, first becomes distinguished from thewoody interior. Then while the bark gradually becomesdifferentiated into the liber, made up of woody tissue, thegreen and corky envelopes, made up of parenchyma, and theepidermis; the interior becomes differentiated into the pith,the medullary sheath, the woody layer, made up of bundlesof greatly elongated cells, and the medullary rays, or what iscalled the silver grain in maple and oak. Meanwhilebetween this heterogeneous bark and the heterogeneouswood which it surrounds, there appears a zone of delicatecells, charged with dextrine and other assimilable matter,and known as the cambium layer. At the same time1 First Principles, p. 334.z 2840 (PT. IL COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.differentiations are going on at the upper extremity of thiscomplicated structure. Portions of the green envelopsprotrude from between the liber and the epidermis, accompanied by tough fibres sent forth partly by the liber andpartly by the woody layer. While the green portions flattenout horizontally, the fibres ramify through them and serve tostiffen them; and thus is developed the leaf, which, whenmature, usually exhibits a further differentiation betweenblade and petiole, while by a continuance of the same processstipules often appear at the base of the petiole. Nor is thisthe end of the story. For while the chlorophyll- cells thatmake up the upper stratum of the leaf-tissue remain denselycrowded, and are often covered by a wax-like cuticle, makingthe upper surface smooth and glossy; the cells composingthe lower stratum become less and less crowded, until theresult is a spongy surface, filled with innumerable pores,through which the moisture of the plant may be exhaledFinally a differentiation arises between the axillary buds,some of which elongate into branches, repeating the chiefcharacteristics of the stem, while others are developed underthe still more heterogeneous forms of flowers, with theirvariously-cleft calyx and corolla, and their variously-compounded stamens and pistils.In the fertilized mammalian ovum the earliest step towardheterogeneity consists in the division and redivision of thenucleated embryonic cell. As the cell-nucleus grows, bycontinuous integration of the nutritious protoplasm in whichit is imbedded, it slowly becomes grooved, and ultimatelydivides into a pair of nuclei, about each of which is formeda cell-wall. This process continues until the entire yolk isabsorbed, by which time it has become differentiated into amulberry-like mass of cells. And these cells, at first allalike spherical or nearly so, become club-shaped or hexagonalor pointed, as the mass further consolidates and squeezesthem together. A grand differentiation next occurs betweenCH. IV.] THE LAW OF EVOLUTION. 341the outer and inner portions of the yolk-mass: the outercells become flattened and pressed together, so as somewhatto resemble a mosaic pavement, and thus form a peripheralmembrane. As this membrane continues to thicken by theintegration of adjacent materials, it differentiates into twolayers, wrapped the one within the other, like two coats ofan onion. The outer layer, or ectoderm, absorbing largerquantities of nitrogenous matter than the other, is the onewhich by further immense differentiation is destined toproduce the bony, muscular, and nervous systems; whilethe inner layer, or endoderm, is destined to produce thedigestive apparatus. Between these two, by a furtherdifferentiation, arises a vascular layer, the rudiment of thecirculatory system. Now on the interior surface of theendoderm appears a grooved channel, of which the edgesgradually rise and fold over towards each other until joiningthey form a tube,—the primitive alimentary canal. At firstnearly uniform, this channel becomes slowly more and moremultiform. Near the upper end it bulges so as to form astomach, while the long lower portion, variously wrapped andconvoluted, is differentiated into the small and large intestines.From various parts of the now heterogeneous canal, therebud forth variously-organized secreting glands, -those whichmake saliva, and those which make gastric juice, bile- cells ,pancreatic cells, and intestinal follicles. While from theexterior coat of the endoderm, thus wonderfully transformed,there shoot out, near the upper end, little flower- like buds,which by and by become lungs. In the intermediate orvascular layer, equally notable differentiations simultaneouslyoccur. The vascular channels become distinguished as veins,arteries, and capillaries. "The heart begins as a mereaggregation of cells, of which the inner liquefy to form blood,while the outer are transformed into the walls." Presentlythe auricle, or chamber which receives blood, is differentiatedfrom the ventricle, or chamber which expels it; and still later849 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY [PT. ILa partition-wall divides first the ventricle and afterwards theauricle into two portions-one for the venous, the other forthe arterial blood . Along with all these changes, parallelprocesses, too numerous to be more than hinted at, are goingon in the ectoderm. Masses of nitrogenous cells here giverise to muscles, which ramify through the whole interior ofthe embryo; and there to cartilaginous structures, in whichdeposits of earthy phosphate, hardening around certaincentres, generate bone. The nervous system, first appearingas a mere groove upon the surface of the germinal membrane,finally exhibits an almost endless heterogeneity. First thereis the difference between grey and white tissue, of which thefirst generates the peculiar kind of molecular motion vaguelytermed nerve-force, while the latter transmits such motion,Then there are the differences between the nervous centreswhich, differently bundled together, make up the cerebrum,the cerebellum, the corpora quadrigemina, the medullaoblongata, the spinal cord, and the sympathetic ganglia, eachof which aggregates is extremely heterogeneous in itself.And then there are the innumerable differences entailedby the highly complicated connections established betweenone nervous centre and another, by the inosculations ofdifferent sets of nerves with each other, and by the circ*mstance that some nerves are distributed upon muscles, otherupon glands, and others upon ganglia.These must suffice as examples of differentiation. To goon until we had exhausted the series of differentiations whichattend the evolution of a single individual, would be to writethe entire history of an organism, and thus to convert ourphilosophic discussion into a special scientific monograph,That history was long since thoroughly written by Von BaerFollowing out hints furnished by Linnæus, K. F. WolffGoethe, and Schelling, this illustrious embryologist announcedin 1829, his great discovery that the progressive changefrom hom*ogeneity to heterogeneity is the change in whichCH. IV.] THE LAW OF EVOLUTION. 343organic evolution essentially consists. It was this formulawhich Mr. Spencer began, some twenty years later, to extend into the universal law of evolution. But, far from havinganticipated the essential portion of Mr. Spencer's discovery,Von Baer's formula stands in much the same relation to itin which the speculations of Copernicus stood with referenceto the discovery of Newton. Just as Copernicus was essentially in error in maintaining that the planets revolve incircular orbits, Von Baer was essentially in error in consideringthe process of differentiation as the fundamental characteristic of evolution, as well as in ignoring the process ofintegration. The whole foregoing exposition has shown, andthe entire remainder of the exposition will still further convince us, that the fundamental characteristic of evolution isintegration of matter with dissipation of internal motion;and that the change from hom*ogeneity to heterogeneity isbut the secondary rearrangement which results wherever theretained motion is great enough to allow it.Still more, in ignoring the process of integration, Von Baerfailed to include in his formula that change from indefinitenessand incoherence to definiteness and coherence, which is equallyimportant with the change from hom*ogeneity to heterogeneity.In the evolution of an organic germ, integration is just as essential a part of the whole process as differentiation. If the latterwere alone to take place, the result would simply be achaotic medley of organs and tissues. Both operations arerequisite to produce a system of organs capable of workingin concert. And if differentiation goes on, unattended byintegration, in any part of the body, disease, and often death,is the result. Cancers and malignant tumours are merelyindefinite results of differentiation, which, never becomingintegrated into harmony with the rest of the organism, endby maiming and finally destroying it. As Dr. Beale hasshown, a cancer is a new variety of cellular tissue, fungoid incharacter, which grows at the expense of the organism, and344 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. ILeats it up as effectually as a carnivorous enemy couldeat it. To employ an instructive metaphor, a cancer is arebellion within the organism, —a setting up of an independent centre of government, -a fatal interference with thesubordination of the parts to the whole. Yet the organismin which a cancer has begun to grow is more heterogeneousthan the healthy organism. In like manner the first stagesof decomposition increase the heterogeneity of the organismas a whole; but because each new retrograde product followshenceforth a career of its own, free from the control of the .organic aggregate, the result is not evolution, but dissolution.The differentiations which occur during the normal growthof the germ, differ from those which constitute cancer andgangrene, alike in their common subordination to the primary process of growth, and in the definiteness of theresulting structures. " In the mammalian embryo, the heart,at first a long pulsating blood- vessel, by and by twists uponitself and integrates. The bile- cells constituting the rudimentary liver, do not simply become different from the wallof the intestine in which they at first lie; but as theyaccumulate, they simultaneously diverge from it, and consolidate into an organ. The anterior segments of the cerebrospinal axis, which are at first continuous with the rest, anddistinguished only by their larger size, undergo a gradualunion; and at the same time the resulting head folds into amass clearly marked off from the rest of the vertebral column.The like process, variously exemplified in other organs, ismeanwhile exhibited by the body as a whole; which becomes integrated somewhat in the same way that an outspreadhandkerchief and its contents become integrated when itsedges are drawn in and fastened to make a bundle." Mr.Spencer, from whom I have quoted this embryologic illustration, goes on to cite parallel instances in the developmentof lower forms of animal life; a few of which may be hereepitomized. In the growth of the lobster from its embryo,CH. IV.] THE LAW OF EVOLUTION. 34number of calcareous segments, originally separable, becomeintegrated into the compact boxes which envelope the organsof the head and thorax. A similar concentration occurs inthe spider, the bee, and the butterfly. In contrast with this,we may profitably observe what goes on in many annuloidworms, where the multiplication of segments by differentiation results in the fission of the animal into two distinctindividuals, because the integrating power of the organism isslight. Similarly in the development of the higher crusta1 Here, without prejudice to the general argument, I may call attention to the very ingenious hypothesis propounded by Mr. Spencer, to account for the origin of the annulose or articulated sub-kingdom of animals. According to this hypothesis, any annulose animal is in reality a compound organism , each of its segments representing what was originally a distinct individual. In other words, an annulose animal is a colony or community of animals which have become integrated into an individual animal. Strong prima facie evidence of such a linear joining of individuals primevally separate is furnished by the structure of the lowest annelids. Between the successive segments there is almost complete identity, both internal and external. Each segmentis physiologically an entire creature, possessing all the organs necessary for individual completeness of life; not only legs and bronchiæ of its own, but also its own nerve- centres, its own reproductive organs, and frequently its own pair of eyes. In many of the intestinal worms each segment has anentire reproductive apparatus, and being hermaphrodite, constitutes a com- plete animal. Moreover in the development ofthe embryo the segments growfrom one another by fission or gemmation, precisely as colonies of com- pound animals grow. At the outset the embryo annelid is composed of onlyone segment. The undifferentiated cells contained in this segment, instead of being all employed in the formation of a heterogeneous and coherent structure within the segment, as would be the case in an animal of highertype, proceed very soon to form a second segment, which, instead of separat- ing as a new individual, remains partially attached to the first. This process may go on until hundreds of segments have been formed. Not only, more- over, does spontaneous fission occur in nearly all the orders of the annulose sub-kingdom, but it is a familiar fact that artificial fission often results in the formation of two or more independent animals. So self-sufficing are theparts, that when the common earth-worm is cut in two, each half continues its life as a perfect worm, -as is above observed, in the text. Very significant, too, is the fact that in some genera, as in chatogaster, where the perfect ndividual consists of three segments, there is formed a fourth segment,which breaks off from the rest and becomes a new animal.All these facts, together with many others of like implication, point tothe ▸nclusion that the type of annulosa has arisen from the coalescence, in anear series, of little spheroidal animals primevally distinct from one another. How are we to explain, or classify, such a coalescence? May wenot most plausibly classify it as a case of arrested reproduction by spontaneous fission? In other words, whereas the aboriginal annuloid had been in the846 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [FT. 11ceans, the parallel chains of ganglia, which constitute thenervous system of the embryo, unite into a single chain.habit of producing by gemmation a second individual which scrarated itself at a certain stage of growth, there came a time when such separation became arrested before completion; so that, instead of a series of independent orga nisms, the result was a colony of organisms linked together in a linear chain.Let us observe that by this brilliant explanation the origin of the annulose type is completely assimilated to the origin of the lowest animal and vegetai types. The primordial type alike of the vegetable and of the animal, is asingle spherical or spheroidal cell, which reproduces itself by spontaneous fission. That is, it elongates until room is made for a second nucleus, afterwhich a notch appears in the cell-wall between the nuclei; and this notch deepens until the old and new cells are quite separated from each other.Now when many such primordial cells are enclosed in a common membrane,so that, instead of achieving a complete separation, they multiply into ajelly- like or mulberry-like mass, there is formed -whether the case be taken in the animal or in the vegetal kingdom-an organism of a type con- siderably higher than the simple cell. There is an opportunity for differently conditioned cells comprised in the same mass to becoine differently modified,and thus to subserve various functions in the economy of the organism.There is a chance for division and combination of labour among the parts Now the progress achieved when the spheroidal members of an annuloid compound remain partly connected, instead of separating, is precisely similar .to this. Among the indubitably compound animals of cœlenterate or mol- luscoid type, in which the fission is not arrested, it is but seldom that the individuals stand related to one another in such a way that there can be any need of their severally performing diverse and specialized functions. For instance, among the hydrozoa, each member of the compound can get food for itself, can expand or contract its tentacles in any way without affecting the general welfare of the compound. But now, if the members of such acompound as the hypothetical primitive annuloid are grouped in a linear series, there must arise a difference between the conditions which affect the extreme members of the series, and the conditions which affect the intermediate members. And consequently there will ensue an advantage tothe compound in the struggle for life, if the members, instead of continuing to perform identical functions separately, become sufficiently united to allowof their performing different functions in concert. Hence we obtain the lowestactual type of annuloid, in which the segments are mere repetitions of each other, with the exception of the extreme front and rear segments, which subserve different functions related to the welfare of the aggregate.Viewed in this light, the various great classes of the annulose sub- kingdombeautifully illustrate that progressive coordination of parts becoming moreand more unlike one another, which is the chief characteristic of Evolutiones displayed in the organic world. In very low annelids, such as the intestinal worms, we see hardly any specialization among the parts; and as weproceed upwards through the lower types, ending with the myriapoda, wemeet with a great but varying number of segments, which show but littlespecialization save in the head and tail. The same is true in general of thelarvæ and caterpillars of the higher types. But as we rise to the adult formsif the insect-group -comprising crustaceans, arachnoids, and true insectswe find the number of segments reduced to just twenty. And while thisnumber remains unvarying, the modifications undergone by different segCH. IV. THE LAW OF EVOLUTION. 347The same kind of integration may be traced in the nervoussystems of insects; and the reproductive system of the vertebrata furnishes like instances of coalescence which are soconspicuous that they are now usually made one of theprimary bases of classification in this sub-kingdom. Thereason why Von Baer overlooked this essential process, is probably to be found in the fact that each secondary integration,resulting in increased definiteness, serves to make the accompanying differentiation still more prominent. The differentiation of lungs, for instance, from the outer coat of theendoderm, becomes marked in proportion as the flower-likebuds become integrated into organs of definite contour.while the two correlative processes go on hand in hand, itis none the less true that they are distinct processes, andthat a comprehensive formula of evolution must explicitlydescribe them both.ButIn further illustration of this twofold aspect of evolution,we may cite a fact which will by and by be seen to haveother important bearings, but which may here serve as avaluable appendix to the foregoing discussion. This is thefact that, in ranking different organisms as high or low inthe scale of life, we always proceed chiefly with reference tothe degree of heterogeneity, definiteness, and coherence whichthey exhibit. Those plants and animals which we rank aslowest in the scale are simply cells, like the hom*ogeneouscells from which higher plants and animals are developed.So little specialized are these forms that they do not exhibiteven those characteristics by which we ordinarily distinguishments in conformity to the requirements of the aggregate are almost endless in variety, the extremes, both of concentration and of specialization, being seen in the ant, the spider, and the crab. In many of the details of thisgradual fusion of distinct individuals into a coherent whole, we see the hypo- thesis interestingly illustrated and justified. In the annelids of low type,each segment has its own spiracles which have no internal communication with one another. On the other hand, in the insect-group there is a com plote system of vessels connecting the respiratory systems. While in theintermediate myriapoda we find, as might be expected, a partial communi sation.348 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. LPT, ILbetween vegetal and animal life. As we ascend the vegetalscale, we find the ferns and lichens decidedly more heterogeneous than the algæ; and as we meet with endogens andexogens, we find the increasing heterogeneity accompaniedby a definiteness and coherence of structure that is evermore and more conspicuous. Going up the animal scale, wefind the annulosa, on the whole, much more heterogeneous,definite, and coherent than the mollusca; while the vertebrata, on the whole, exhibit these characteristics more strikingly than either of the other sub-kingdoms. The relativelyhom*ogeneous and unintegrated polyps are ranked below allof these. Within each group the same principle of classification is universally followed. Contrast the centipede,whose multitudinous segments are almost literally copies ofeach other, or the earth-worm, which may be severed in themiddle and yet live, with the highly differentiated and integrated hive-bee, spider, or crab. Compare the definite andsymmetrical contour of the cuttlefish, which is the highestof the mollusca, with the unshapely outline of the molluscoid ascidians. Or, to cite cases from the two extremes ofthe animal scale, consider first the complicated mammal,whose growth from the embryo we have lately contemplated;and then turn to the hydra, or freshwater polyp, which is amere bag of organized matter, digesting with its inner surfaceand respiring with the outer, -yet so little specialized that,if turned inside out, the digestive surface will begin torespire, and the respirative surface to digest, as imperturbably as if nothing had happened. In short, in a survey ofthe whole organic world, progress from lower to higher formsis a progress from forms which are less, to forms which aremore, differentiated and integrated.One further point must be noticed before we conclude thispreliminary sketch of the process of evolution. The illustrations above given refer almost exclusively to differentiations and integrations of structure, or, in other words, teCH. V.]THE LAW OF EVOLUTION. 349rearrangements of the matter of which organic bodies arecomposed. It remains to be shown how the rearrangementsof the motion retained by developing organisms exhibit thesame characteristics, and manifest themselves as differentiations and integrations of function. All organic functions areeither molar motions of contractile muscles, or of circulatoryfluids, or else they are molecular motions in nerves, or insecreting organs, or in assimilative tissues in general. Toshow how these various motions become more specializedand more consolidated as the organism is developed, let usbriefly reconsider the case of the alimentary canal, whosestructural modifications were lately described. The primitivealimentary canal exhibits from end to end a tolerably uniform series of molar motions of constriction. But as thecanal becomes more heterogeneous, the molar movements inits different parts simultaneously become more unlike oneanother. While the waves of contraction and expansionremain constant and moderate throughout the small intestine, they are replaced in the œsophagus by more violentcontractions and expansions that recur at longer rhythmicalintervals. In the stomach the mechanical undulations areso much more powerful as to triturate the contained food,and their rhythms are differently compounded; while themovements of the mouth are still further specialized in theactions of biting and chewing. In the molecular motionsconstituting secretion and absorption there is a similarpecialization. While absorption is confined chiefly to thearea covered by the lacteals, secretion is specialized invarious localities-in the salivary glands, in the gastric andintestinal follicles, in the liver, and in the pancreas—and ineach place it has acquired a peculiar character. A likeincrease in heterogeneity and definiteness marks the circulatory movements. In a slightly-evolved animal the nutritive fluid, answering to blood, moves about here and there atseeming random, its course being mainly determined by the850 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.[PT. ILlocal pressure of the tissues. But in a highly- evolvedanimal, which possesses a well- developed vascular system,the blood runs in definite channels, and with well- markeddifferences of movement. Its movement is slow and continuous in the capillaries, fast and continuous in the veins,still faster but discontinuous in the arteries; while therhythms in all are subordinated by the central rhythm ofthe heart. Still more remarkable, in the most complexorganisms, is that kind of functional integration whichconsists in the mutual dependence of different functions.Neither alimentation nor circulation nor respiration can goon alone; and all three are dependent upon the continuanceof nervous action, which in turn depends alike upon each ofThe three. A few whiffs of tobacco, for example, setting uptlight molecular changes in the medulla oblongata, increasethe heart's rate of pulsation, and stimulate every one of thealimentary secretions, while it is probable also that, throughthe medium of the sympathetic ganglia, the sectional areaof every artery is slightly altered. The cautious physician,in prescribing a powerful drug, knows that he is dealing withen integration of motions so extensive that the disturbanceof any one will alter the directions and composition of allthe others to a degree which baffles accurate calculation.Contrasting with such cases as these the hom*ogeneous, indefinite and uncombined movements of those lowest animals,that are borne hither and thither by the vibrations of cilia,it becomes evident that the formula which expresses thestructural evolution of matter, expresses also the functionalevolution of the motion which the integrating matterretains.Embracing now in one general view the various kinds oftransformation exemplified in the present chapter, we findthat our survey of organic development completely justifiesMr. Spencer's technical statement:-" Evolution is an integration of matter and concomitant dissipation of motion ,CH. IV.] THE LAW OF EVOLUTION. 351during which the matter passes from an indefinite, incoherenthom*ogeneity to a definite, coherent heterogeneity; and duringwhich the retained motion undergoes a parallel transformation.'" 1Here, it will be observed, we have obtained a formulawhich applies not to organic development merely, but tothe transformations of Matter and Motion in generalThough we have been led to it solely by the considerationof those organic phenomena which, for reasons alreadypresented, most conspicuously exemplify it, and in connection with which it was first partially generalized byGoethe and Von Baer; yet now that we have arrived at thisformula, we find ourselves expressing it in terms that areuniversal. Instead of a mere law of biology, we haveenunciated the widest generalization that has yet beenreached concerning the concrete universe as a wholeHaving ascertained that in organic aggregates, where theconditions are such as to allow of relatively permanentstructural rearrangements, the process of Evolution is characterized by a change from indeterminate uniformity todeterminate multiformity, we have assumed that like conditions will everywhere be attended with like results. Thelaw asserts that wherever a relatively permanent system ofrearrangements is possible, whether in organic or in inorganic aggregates, the change from indeterminate uniformityto determinate multiformity will be manifested. This leap ofinference on Mr. Spencer's part, like the similar leap takenby Newton from the fall of the apple to the motions of themoon, is the daring act which completes the formation ofthe hypothesis. This grand hypothesis we must now proceedto verify by showing that the widest generalizations severallyobtainable in the concrete sciences are included in it, andreceive from it their common interpretation. It is to beshown that in the case of sundry inorganic aggregates orFirst Principles, p. 396.352 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. 11.systems of parts (forming the subject-matter of astronomyand geology), where circ*mstances not yet recounted permitthe retention of a considerable relative motion of parts, theprocesses of differentiation and integration are quite conspicuously manifested; although, as we might expect, theseprocesses are never carried so far here as in the case oforganic aggregates. It will next be shown that the hypothesis is verified, alike by the scanty facts which are at ourdisposal concerning the genesis of Life, and by the enormousmultitude of facts which prove beyond the possibility ofdoubt that the more complex living creatures have originated by physical derivation from ancestral creatures thatwere less complex. Next, although-as I have alreadyremarked the phenomena of Mind are in no sense identifiable with material phenomena, yet as in all our experiencethere is no manifestation of Mind which is not mysteriouslyconditioned by movements of matter, we shall find thatthese super- organie phenomena do not fail to conform to theuniversal law. It will be shown that the development ofconscious intelligence, alike in the individual and in the race,is characterized by the change from indeterminate uniformityto determinate multiformity. The history of the products ofconscious intelligence exemplify the same principle; andnowhere shall we find more striking confirmation than isfurnished by the phenomena of social progress. By the timewe have narrated the results of this vast induction, we shall beconvinced that " from the earliest traceable cosmical changesdown to the latest products of civilization,” the law oforganic evolution here expounded is the law of all evolutionwhatever.But the universality of this law admits of deductive proof.which may properly be adduced while concluding this chapter,and before entering upon the long course of inductive verification which comes next in order. Already we have seenthat the changes which primarily constitute Evolution areCH. IV.]THE LAW OF EVOLUTION. 353necessitated by the rhythm of motion, and therefore indirectly by the persistence of force. We have now to showhow the secondary changes, differentiation and integration,are equally necessitated by the same primordial fact.It is a corollary from the persistence of force, "that, inthe actions and reactions of force and matter, an unlikenessin either of the factors necessitates an unlikeness in theeffects." When the different portions of any hom*ogeneousaggregate are exposed to the action of unlike forces, or tounequal intensities of the same force, they are of necessitydifferently affected thereby. Between the unequally exposedparts there arise structural differences, entailing differencesof property and function. That which before was hom*ogeneous has become heterogeneous through the appearanceof certain unlikenesses; and, under the name of differentiation, the rise of such unlikenesses has already been described.It remains to be observed that such unlikenesses cannot butarise, that differentiation must needs take place, because it isimpossible for all the parts of any aggregate to be similarlyconditioned with reference to any incident force. Whetherit be the mechanical vibrations caused by a blow, the slowundulations constituting heat, or the more rapid undulationsconstituting light, that are propagated through any body, itequally follows that the respective vibrations will be communicated in different degrees to those particles which aresituated on the nearer and on the farther side of the body,and to those particles which are laterally near to or remotefrom the line followed by the incident force. The differentparts will be variously moved, heated, or chemically affected,and a series of differentiations will thus have arisen. Weneed go no farther than the kitchen, to perceive that thecrust formed on a loaf of bread or a joint of roasted meat, isdue to the necessarily unequal exposure of outside and insideto the incident force coming in the shape of heat from thewalls of the oven. In the impossibility of balancing anVOL I. A A354 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. ILaccurately made pair of scales, in the equal impossibility ofkeeping a tank of water free from currents, in the rusting ofiron, and in the uneven cooling of a heated metal, is exemplified the principle that the state of hom*ogeneity is anunstable state. Universally the tendency of things, amidthe conflict of unlike forces, is toward heterogeneity.Coincident with the differentiation of aggregates, there isa differentiation of the incident forces. When a movingbody is broken up by collision, its original momentum issevered into a group of momenta, which differ both in amountand in direction. The ray of solar light which falls uponthe foliage of a tree and upon the wall of the brick buildingbehind it, is separated by reflection into red and greenrays, in which the undulations differ both in height and inbreadth. Each portion of the differentiated force must in itsturn enter as a factor into new differentiations, The moreheterogeneous an aggregate becomes the more rapidly mustdifferentiation go on; because each of its component unitsmay be considered as a whole, bearing relations to the otherunits similar to those which the aggregate bears to otheraggregates; and thus the differentiation of the whole mustbe followed by the differentiation of the parts. There mustthus be a multiplication of effects as heterogeneity increases;because, with increasing heterogeneity, the forces whichbodies and parts of bodies mutually exert upon each othermust become ever more varied and complex in their amountsand directions.We may see, therefore, that differentiation is a necessaryconsequence of the fundamental relations of matter andmotion. And the same is true of that secondary integrationor union of like units, which serves to render differentiationmore conspicuous by substituting a demarcated grouping fora vague one. Considering what happens when a handful ofpounded sugar, scattered before the breeze, falls here andthere according to the respective sizes of the fragments,-weperceive that the units which descend in company are thoseCH. IV. ] THE LAW OF EVOLUTION. 355of equal size, and that their segregation results from theirlike relations to the incident force. The integration of severalspinal vertebræ into a sacrum, as the result of exposure to acontinuous strain in the same direction, is a still betterexample; and from the phenomena of morphological development many parallel cases might be cited. Wherever different parts of any group of units stand in different relationsto an incident force, differentiation must result; and wherever any sub-group of these units, after becoming unlike therest, is acted on by a common force, the result must bethe integration of the sub-group. But manifestly the primary process of consolidation cannot long go on in anyaggregate, without bringing sundry groups of units intodissimilar relations to adjacent groups; nor can it long go onwithout subjecting each group, thus differentiated, to a predominant force exerted by the totality of the companiongroups. Hence the change from indefinite incoherent hom*ogeneity to definite coherent heterogeneity must accompanythe integration of matter; and no alternative conclusion canbe reached without denying the persistence of force.I am aware that scanty justice is here done to the arguments by which, in three interesting chapters, Mr. Spencerestablishes this deductive conclusion. But since the briefexposition here given is not intended as a substitute for thestudy of Mr. Spencer's treatise, but rather as a commentaryupon it, his position has been perhaps sufficiently indicated.We are now prepared to study with profit some of thephenomena presented by the past history of our planetaryystem. In the evolution of the sun, with his attendantplanets and satellites, from a vast primeval mass of vapour,we shall be called upon to witness a grand illustration notonly of that integration of matter and concomitant dissipationof motion which is the fundamental characteristic of Evolution in general, but also of that change from indefiniteand incoherent hom*ogeneity to definite and coherent heterogeneity which is its most striking derivative feature.A A 2CHAPTER V.PLANETARY EVOLUTION.AMONG the notable phenomena presented by the structureof our planetary system, there are some which have becomeso familiar to us that we commonly overlook them altogether,and through sheer inattentiveness fail to realize their significance. For example, all the planets revolve about the sunin the same direction, which coincides with the direction ofthe sun's own rotation upon his axis. All the planets, moreover, revolve in planes which are but slightly inclined to theplane of the sun's equator. Satellites conduct themselvessimilarly with reference to their primaries. Every satelliterevolves about its primary in the direction of the primary'saxial rotation, and in a plane but little inclined to the plane ofthe primary's equator. Again, with the single interestingexception of Uranus-and possibly also of Neptune-allthe planets, as well as the sun, rotate upon their axes fromwest to east, in the same direction with their orbitalrevolutions. And lastly, all the planets, both primary andsecondary, move in elliptical orbits of small or moderateeccentricity.We are so accustomed to acquiesce in these facts, as ifthey were ultimate, that we seldom stop to consider themtheir true light, as unimpeachable witnesses to the pastSH. V.J PLANETARY EVOLUTION, 357it history of the solar system. Yet as Laplace has shown,is practically impossible that such harmonious relationsshould hold between the various members of the solarsystem, unless those members have had a common origin.The clue to that common origin may be sought in factswhich are daily occurring before our very eyes. Everymember of our planetary system is constantly parting withmolecular motion in the shape of heat. Our earth isincessantly pouring out heat into surrounding space; and,although the loss is temporarily made good by solar radiation, it is not permanently made good, as is proved by thefact that during many millions of years the earth has beenslowly cooling. I do not refer to the often- cited fact thatthe Arctic regions were once warm enough to maintain atropical vegetation; for this high temperature may well havebeen due to minor causes, such as the greater absorptivepower of the ancient atmosphere with its higher percentageof carbonic acid and ozone. Nor need we insist upon thealleged fact that extensive glaciation appears to have beenunknown until a comparatively late epoch; although glaciation, whether brought about by changes in the distributionof land and sea or by a variation in the eccentricity of theearth's orbit, certainly does seem to imply a progressivedependence of the earth upon the supply of solar heat, due tothe lowering of its own proper temperature. Such facts,however, are wholly inadequate to describe the primitiveheat of the earth. The flattening of the poles being considerably greater than could have been produced by therotation of a globe originally solid on the surface, it followsthat the whole earth was formerly fluid. And this conclusion, established by dynamical principles, is uniformlycorroborated by the observed facts of geology. Now thefluidity of the entire earth, with its rocks and metals,implies a heat sufficient to have kept the planet incandescent,so that it must have skone with light of its own, like the358 [PT. IL COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.stars. Similar conclusions are indicated by the observedgeologic features of Mars and Venus; and in the case of themoon we shall presently see what a prodigious loss of heatis implied by the fact that the forces which once upheavedits great volcanoes are now quiescent. The sun, too, ispouring away heat at such a rate that, according to Sir JohnHerschel, if a cylinder of ice 184,000 miles in length and45 miles in diameter were darted into the sun every second,it would be melted as fast as it came. Or, as Mayer hascalculated, the amount of heat lost every minute by the sunwould suffice to raise the temperature of thirteen billioncubic miles of water one degree Centigrade. Although thisprodigious loss is perhaps partly compensated by heat dueto the arrested motion of meteors falling upon the sun'ssurface, yet it is by no means probable that it is in this waycompensated to any noteworthy extent. It is in every wayindisputable that from time immemorial sun, moon, andearth, as well as the other members of our system, havebeen parting with their internal motion, in the shape of heatradiated into surrounding space.Thus in the history of our planetary system we mayalready begin to witness that dissipation of motion whichhas been shown to be one of the prime features of the processof Evolution, wherever exemplified. But, as we have alsoseen, the dissipation of motion is always and necessarilyaccompanied by the concentration of matter. It is notsimply that, with two or three apparent exceptions, whichhave no bearing upon the present argument, all coolingbodies diminish in size and increase in density; but it isalso that all contracting bodies generate heat, the loss ofwhich, by radiation, allows the process of contraction tocontinue. In any contracting mass the particles which tendtoward the common centre have their molar motions constantly opposed by friction upon each other, and most of themotion thus arrested is converted into heat. If this heat isCH. V.) PLANETARY EVOLUTION. “ 359lost by radiation as fast as it is thus generated, the contraction of the mass will go on unceasingly. It is in this waythat physicists now account for the internal heat of the sunand the planets. A diminution of the sun's diameter bythe amount of twenty miles could not be detected by thefinest existing instruments; yet the arrest of motion impliedin this slight contraction would generate enough heat tomaintain the present prodigious supply during fifty centuries.And in similar wise the internal heat of the earth during agiven moment or epoch must be chiefly due to that verycontraction which the radiation of its heat during thepreceding moment or epoch has entailed.The generation of all this heat, therefore, which sun and´planets have from time immemorial been losing, implies thetransformation of an enormous quantity of molar motion ofcontraction. It implies that from time immemorial thevarious members of our planetary system have all beendecreasing in volume and increasing in density; so that thefarther back in time we go, the larger and less solid must wesuppose them to have been. This is an inevitable corollaryfrom the companion laws that contracting bodies evolve heat,and that radiating bodies contract.Obviously, therefore, if we were to go back far enough, weshould find the earth filling the moon's orbit,¹ so that thematter now composing the moon would then have formed apart of the equatorial zone of the earth. At a period stillmore remote, the earth itself must have formed a tiny portionof the equatorial zone of the sun, which then filled theearth's orbit. At a still earlier date, the entire solar systemmust have consisted simply of the sun, which, more than1 It is not presumed, however, that the moon's orbit was originally so large As at present. For by its tidal action upon our oceans the moon exerts a drag upon the earth's rotation, and the motion thus lost by the earth is added to the moon's tangential momentum, thus increasing the dimensions of its orbit.A precisely similar qualification is needed for the two next-succeeding state ments in the text.380 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. ILfilling Neptune's orbit, must have consisted of diffusedvaporous matter, like that of which the irresolvable nebulahave recently been proved to consist. Now in the slowconcentration of the matter constituting this solar nebula,as both Kant and Laplace have elaborately proved, themost prominent peculiarities of the solar system find theircomplete explanation. Supposing the sun to have beenonce a mass of nebulous vapour, extending in everydirection far beyond the present limits of the solar system,these thinkers proved that the mere contraction of sucha mass must inevitably have brought about just thestate of things which we now find. Let us observe someof the processes which must have taken place in thisnebulous mass.Note first that we are obliged to accredit the various partsof this genetic nebula with motions bearing some reference toa common centre of gravity; for the rotation of the resultingsystem must have had an equivalent amount of motion forits antecedent, and it is a well- known theorem of mechanicsthat no system of bodies can acquire a primordial rotationmerely from the interaction of its own parts. In makingthis assumption, however, we are simply carrying out theprinciple of the continuity of motion. It is not necessary tosuppose, in addition, that all these motions primordially constituted a rotation of the whole mass in one direction. Sucha hypothesis seems to me not only gratuitous, but highly improbable. It is more likely that these primeval motions tookthe shape of currents, now aiding and now opposing oneanother, and determined hither and thither according to localcirc*mstances. In any case, such indefiniteness of movementmust finally end in a definite rotation in one direction. Forunless the currents tending eastward are exactly balancedby the currents tending westward-a supposition againstwhich the chances are as infinity to one-the one set musteventually prevail over the other. And after some suckCH. V.] PLANETARY EVOLUTION. 361manner as this our solar nebula must have acquired itsdefinite rotation from west to east.Let us next observe the mechanical consequences of thisrotation. No matter what may have been the primitiveshape of the nebula—and, if we may judge from the analogyof irresolvable nebulæ now existing, it may very likely havebeen as amorphous as any cloud in a summer sky-nomatter what its primitive shape, it must at last inevitablyassume the form peculiar to rotating bodies in which theparticles move freely upon each other. It must become anoblate spheroid, flattened at the poles and bulging at theequator, because at the equator the centrifugal tendencygenerated by rotation is greatest. Furthermore as the masscontracts, it must rotate faster and faster; for as the totalquantity of rotation is unalterable, the velocity must increaseas the space traversed diminishes.In accordance with these principles of mechanics, as oursolar nebula continued to radiate heat and contract, it continued to rotate with ever-increasing velocity, its polesbecame more and more flattened, and its equatorial zone protruded more and more, until at last the centrifugal tendencyat the equator became greater than the force of gravity atthat place. Then the bulging equatorial zone, no longer ableto keep pace with the rest of the mass in its contraction,was left behind as a detached ring, girdling, at a small butsteadily increasing distance, the retreating central mass.What must now have been the career of this detachedring? Unless subjected to absolutely symmetrical forces inall directions-an infinitely improbable supposition-such aring must forthwith break into a host of fragments of veryinequal dimensions. For in order that it should break intoqual-sized fragments, the strains exerted upon it must bedisposed with absolute symmetry; and against this suppositionalso the probabilities are as infinity to one. It would break,much as a dish breaks when dropped on the floor, into369 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY [PT. IL .hundreds of fragments, of which some few would be relatively large, while the numerous small ones would vary endlessly in their sizes. At this stage, then, instead of a continuous ring, we have a host of satellites, surrounding the solarequator, revolving in the direction of the solar rotation, andfollowing each other in the same orbit. If undisturbed byany powerful attraction from without, these fragments wouldcontinue in the same orbit, and would gradually differ moreand more in their velocities. Each large fragment would, byits gravitative force, retard the smaller fragment in front ofit, and accelerate the smaller fragment behind it, until at lasttwo or three fragments would catch up with each other andcoalesce. Thus, in the earliest case known to us, -that ofthe planet Neptune, ¹-this process went on until all thefragments were finally agglomerated into a spheroidal body,having a velocity compounded of the several velocities ofthe fragments, and a rotation made up of their severalrotations.Meanwhile the central mass of the vaporous sun continuedto radiate heat and to contract, until, when its peripherycame to coincide with what is now called the orbit of Uranus,its centrifugal force at the equator again showed an excessover gravity, and a second equatorial belt was left behind;and this belt, breaking up and consolidating, after the mannerabove described, became the planet Uranus. In like mannerwere formed all the planets, one after another; and from thedetached equatorial belts of the cooling and contractingplanets, were similarly formed the satellites.A very curious physical experiment, devised by M. Plateanstrikingly illustrates the growth of our planetary system fromIt is not strictly impossible that there may be one or two planets exterior to "eptune, and therefore earlier in formation. Supposing the distances ofucn planets to conform, even as imperfectly as in Neptune's case, to the law f Titius, these distances must be so enormous as to prevent our readily dis covering the planets, either directly by observation, or indirectly, by infer nce from possible perturbations of Neptune's movements.CH. V.]PLANETARY EVOLUTION. 363the solar nebula. M. Plateau's experiment consists in freeinga fluid mass from the action of terrestrial gravity, so that itsvarious parts may be subject only to their own mutualattractions; and then in imparting to this mass an increasingly rapid movement of rotation. A quantity of oil ispoured into a glass vessel containing a mixture of water andalcohol, of which the lower strata are heavier than the oil,while the upper strata are lighter. The oil, when poured in,descends until it reaches the stratum of the same densitywith itself, when being freed from the action of terrestrialgravity, and subjected only to the mutual attraction of itsown molecules, it assumes a spherical form. By an ingeniousmechanical contrivance, M. Plateau now causes the sphere ofoil to rotate about its own centre of gravity. While themovement is slow, the excess of centrifugal force at theequator of the oil- globe causes a bulging of the equator andcorresponding flattening of the poles, like that observedin the sun and in all the planets. From a sphere the oilglobe becomes a " spheroid of rotation. " If now the movement is considerably accelerated the equatorial portion ofthe oil-globe becomes detached, and surrounds the centralsphere of oil in the shape of a nearly circular ring, likeSaturn's ring-system. Finally, if the movement is keptup for a sufficient length of time, the oil-ring breaks intofragments, which revolve like satellites about the oilglobe, and each of which keeps up for a time its own movement of rotation in the same direction with the revolution ofthe ring.The common origin of the planets from the sun's equator,as thus strikingly illustrated, explains at once the otherwiseinexplicable coincidence of their rotations, their revolutions,and their orbital planes. At a single glance we see why theplanetary orbits are always nearly concentric and nearly in aplane with the solar equator; and we see that, since the sunmust always have rotated, as at present, from west to east,264 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. Nethe planets formed from him must have kept up a revolution,and acquired a rotation, in the same direction.Such is the grand theory of nebular genesis, first elaborated with rare scientific acumen by Kant in 1755, and afterwards independently worked out by Laplace in 1796. Theclaims of this theory to be regarded as a legitimate scientificdeduction have been ably stated by Mr. Mill, in his " Systemof Logic," book iii. chapter xiv. As we are there reminded,"there is in this theory no unknown substance introduced onsupposition, nor any unknown property or law ascribed to aknown substance. " Once grant that the sun and planets arecooling bodies, the inference is unavoidable that the matterwhich composes them was formerly much more rare and diffused than at present. If we are to infer the sun's past condition from its present condition, we must necessarily suppose that its constituent matter once occupied much morespace than at present, " and we are entitled to suppose thatit extended as far as we can trace effects such as it mightnaturally leave behind it on retiring; and such the planetsare." The abandonment of successive equatorial zones bythe shrinking solar nebula follows from known mechanicallaws; and the subsequent breaking up of each zone, and theconsolidation of its fragments into a planet, are processeswhich similarly involve none but established dynamical principles. It equally follows, from elementary laws of mechanics, that the planets thus formed would revolve and rotateboth in the directions and in the planes in which they areactually observed to revolve and to rotate. There is thus,observes Mr. Mill, nothing gratuitous in Laplace's speculation: " it is an example of legitimate reasoning from apresent effect to a possible past cause, according to the knownlaws of that cause."But the evidence in favour of the theory of nebular genesisis not restricted to these general coincidences between observation and deduction. Many striking minor details in theSH. V.]PLANETARY EVOLUTION. 365structure of the solar system, otherwise apparently inexplicable, are beautifully explained by the theory of nebulargenesis. Let us first consider a case which would appear tobe an obstacle, not only to this, but to any other frameabletheory. We have already hinted that Uranus, while revolving in the same direction with the other planets, has a backward rotation, so that to an observer placed upon Uranus the'sun would seem to rise in the west and set in the east. Hismoons revolve about him in the same retrograde direction;and his axis, instead of standing at a great angle to his orbitplane, as is the case with all the nearer planets, lies downalmost upon the orbit-plane. It has been asserted that thesepeculiarities are also manifested by Neptune; though ouropportunities for observing the latter planet are so few thatthis point cannot yet be regarded as established. Why nowshould such exceptional phenomena be manifested in thecase of either or both of these outermost planets? In hisessay on the Nebular Hypothesis, Mr. Spencer has shownthat these phenomena may be explained by a reference to theshape of the rings from which the outermost planets wereformed. When the solar nebula was so large as to fill theorbit of Neptune, its rotation must have been slower, and itsfigure consequently less oblate, than at later stages of contraction. Now the ring detached from a very oblate spheroid,which bulges greatly at the equator, must obviously beshaped like a flat quoit, as is the case with Saturn's rings;while conversely the ring detached from a spheroid whichbulges comparatively little at the equator, will approximateto the shape of a hoop. Hence the rings which gave rise toNeptune and Uranus, having been detached before the solarnebula had attained the maximum of oblateness, are likelyto have been hoop-shaped; and when we consider theenormous circumferences occupied by these rings, comparedwith the moderate sizes of the resulting planets, we see thatthey must have been very thin hoops. Now in such a hoop366 [PT. 11. COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.the angular velocities of the inner and outer surfaces respectively will be nearly equal, and the planetary mass intowhich such a hoop concentrates will have its greatest diameterat right angles (or nearly so) to the plane of its orbit , sothat its tendency to rotate in the line of its revolution willbe so slight as to be easily overcome by any one of a hundredpossible disturbing circ*mstances. Without feeling requiredto point out the precise nature of such circ*mstances, wemay readily see that, in the case of the outermost planets,the causes which ordinarily make the rotation coincide withthe line of revolution were at their minimum of efficiency.So that the retrograde rotation of Uranus, though not perhapsactually implied by the hooped shape of its ancestral ring,is at any rate quite in accordance with it.I cite this example, not merely on its own account, butalso by reason of the further disclosures to which it leads us.Whatever may be thought of the special interpretation justcited, there is no doubt that Mr. Spencer's conception ofhoop-shaped and quoit- shaped rings points to a notable seriesof harmonies among the phenomena of the solar system.Observe, first, that according to the theory, the outer planetsought in general to be much larger than the inner planets;and for a very simple reason. The ancestral rings whichcoincided with the immense orbits of Uranus and Neptunemust of course have been larger than the ancestral ringswhich coincided with the smaller orbits of Mars and theearth. A ring, for example, which is seventeen thousandmillions of miles in circumference may be expected to contain more matter than a ring which is less than six hundredmillions of miles in circumference; and hence we mayunderstand why Neptune contains at least sixteen times asmuch matter as the earth.But this, though significant, is not a complete explanation ·for as the case now stands, it would seem as if there oughtto be a regular gradation in the sizes of the planets. Not•CH. V.] PLANETARY EVOLUTION. 367only ought Mercury to be the smallest, but Neptune oughtto be the largest. The facts, however, do not accord withthis view. The four outer planets are indeed much largerthan the four inner ones. But of the inner group the largestis not Mars, but the earth; while in the outer group we findJupiter three-and-a-half times as large as Saturn, which inturn is seven times larger than Uranus. Now the key tothese apparent anomalies must, I think, be sought in theshapes of the rings from which the planets were respectivelyformed. Neptune and Uranus, formed from very thin hooplike rings, at a period when the solar equator protruded butslightly, are indeed large planets, but not so large as wouldbe inferred from the size of their orbits alone. But as thesolar nebula continued to contract, its increasing equatorialvelocity rendered it more and more oblate in figure, so thatthe rings next detached were quoit-shaped. Hence theresulting planets not only had their major diameters butlittle inclined to their orbit-planes, but they were also largerin size. The very broad quoits which gave rise to Jupiterand Saturn may well have contained more than fourteen timesas much planetary matter as the extensive but slender hoopswhich formed the two oldest planets. If instead of lookingat the sizes of the resulting planets, we consider the thicknesses of the genetic rings, as determined by comparing thesize of a planet with the size of its orbit, we shall see that,from Neptune to Jupiter, there was a regular increase in thethickness of the rings, such as the theory might lead us toanticipate.But now after the separation of Jupiter from the parentmass, we encounter a break in this series of phenomena. Thethickness of the detached rings sinks to a minimum in thecase of the asteroids, and then steadily increases again untilin Mercury there is once more an approach to the quoitshape. Observe the curious sequence of facts, which hitherto,to far as I know, has never been noticed by any of the writers368 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY [PT. ILwho have treated of the nebular hypothesis. Since themass of Mercury is four-fifths that of Venus, while thecircumference of his orbit is about one- half that of the orbitof Venus, it follows that his ancestral ring must have beenmuch thicker than that of Venus. Again, the earth is butlittle larger than Venus, while the circumference of its orbitexceeds that of the latter nearly in the ratio of five to three,so that it must have originated from a thinner ring. Mars,with an orbit exceeding the earth's in the ratio of eight tofive, and containing but one- eighth as much planetary matteras the earth, must have been formed from a still thinner ring.And since the asteroids, if all piled together, would not makea planet as large as Mars,¹ while they move through a verymuch greater orbit, it follows that their parent-ring must havebeen the thinnest of all. In marvellous conformity to thisgeneral statement, it also happens that the inner planets rotatein planes which diverge more widely from their orbit- planesthan in the case of Jupiter and Saturn, though less widelythan in the case of Uranus and Neptune. And lastly let usnote that the velocities of the planetary rotations supply1 It may be objected that we have probably not yet discovered all the asteroids. Those not yet discovered, however, must obviously be so small that the addition of them to the aggregated mass of those already known would not materially affect the truth of my statement.2 Curiously enough, if we examine the different systems of satellites, we find a similar general contrast in size between the members of outer and innergroups. The two outer satellites of Jupiter are much larger than the two inner ones; and the same relation holds between the four acknowledged satellites of Uranus; while of the eight Saturnian satellites, the four outer ones seem to be decidedly larger than the four inner ones . Moreover thelargest of Jupiter's moons is not the outermost, but the third; and of Saturn's moons the largest is not the eighth, but the sixth. To these interesting facts which Mr. Spencer has pointed out, I will add one which he has not observed. If instead of looking at the sizes of the moons, we considerthe thicknesses of their genetic rings, as determined by comparing the size ofamoon with the size of its orbit, we find in the Jovian system a regular in- crease in the thickness of the rings, from the outermost to the innermost.Similar evidence from the Saturnian system is not yet forthcoming, since the masses and even the volumes of Saturn's moons have not yet been determined with sufficient accuracy for this purpose. And concerning the Uraniansystem our knowledge is still more inadequate. It will be observed, how over, that even the facts here fragmentarily collated point clearly to someCH. V.] PLANETARY EVOLUTION. 369further confirmation; for " other things equal, a genetic ringthat is broadest in the direction of its plane will produce amass rotating faster than one that is broadest at right anglesto its plane "; and accordingly Jupiter and Saturn, originatingfrom relatively quoit- shaped rings, rotate very swiftly; whileall the inner planets, originating from relatively hoop- shapedrings, rotate with much less rapidity.Here we may profitably consider the singular instance inthe history of the solar system in which a detached ring hasfailed to become integrated into a single planetary mass.Everyone remembers how, in accordance with the law ofTitius concerning planetary intervals, Kepler was led to predict the existence of a planet between Mars and Jupiter; andhow, at the beginning of the present century, not one only,but four such planets, were suddenly discovered. More thana hundred of these little bodies have now been detected, andeach year adds new names to the list. The four earliestobserved-Vesta, Juno, Ceres, and Pallas-are of respectabledimensions; Pallas having a diameter of 600 miles, or morethan one fourth the diameter of our moon. Most of theothers are quite tiny, the smallest having a surface perhapsnot larger than the state of Rhode Island. Not only do theyoccupy the position which would normally belong to a singleplanet between Mars and Jupiter, but it is hardly questionable that they have all originated from a single ring; fortheir orbits are interlaced in such a complicated way that, ifthey were material rings instead of ideal lines in space, itwould be possible to lift them all up by lifting any one ofthem. Why should just one of the solar rings have failed todevelope into a single planet, and why should such an arrestof development have occurred in just this part of the solarsystem?common mode of genesis for both planets and satellites; and are likely, when completely generalized, to yield important testimony in behalf of the nebular theory.VOL. LBB870 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. ILAccording to Olbers, the discoverer of Pallas and Vesta,this is not a case of arrested development, but these littlebodies are merely the fragments of an ancient well- developedplanet, which has been in some way exploded. But thishypothesis, though countenanced by Mr. Spencer, seems tome unsatisfactory. In Mr. Spencer's essay, it is closely connected with the hypothesis of a gaseous nucleus for all theplanets, which, though there ingeniously elaborated, seems tomeas yet too doubtful to serve as a basis for further explana- ·tions. And even granting the hypothesis, it would benecessary further to show why in this planet alone the outward pressure of the gaseous nucleus should have overcomethe resistance of the solidified crust. I believe that theproblem is much nearer a solution when we treat it as a caseof arrested development; for on this view the peculiar fateof the ancestral ring may be at least partially explained bya reference to the perturbing attraction exerted upon it byJupiter.When we reflect upon the immensity of the distanceswhich separate the outer planets from each other, even inconjunction, we perceive that during the earlier stages ofnebular contraction no planet was in danger of being disturbed in its formation by the attraction of its next outerneighbour and predecessor. But as the increasing equatorialprotuberance of the solar spheroid began to result in theformation of larger and larger planets, and as the formationof planets began, according to the law of Titius, to occur atshorter and shorter intervals, there began to be some dangerof such disturbance. There was no chance for a catastrophe,however, until the time when the asteroid- ring was detached,The enormous Jupiter-ring was at least 370,000,000 milesremoved from Saturn, besides which its huge mass, implyingpowerful gravitative force among its constituent parts, servedfurther to insure its equilibrium. Hence it ran little risk oincurring disaster in the course of its planetary development.SH. V.] PLANETARY EVOLUTION. 371It was otherwise with the ancestral ring of the asteroids.This thinnest and weakest of rings started on its independentcareer at a distance of only 240,000,000 miles from Jupiter,the planet whose gravitative force is more than twice that ofall the other planets put together. Under such circ*mstances itwould seem impossible that a planet could be formed. Theasteroid-ring must have been liable to rupture, not only fromthe causes which affect all planet- forming rings alike, butalso from the strain exerted upon it, now in one part andnow in another, by Jupiter's attraction. The fragments of aring, torn asunder by such a cause, would not continue tooccupy the same orbit; they would be dragged from thecommon path in various directions and to various distances,according to the ever- changing position of the disturbingbody. Henceforward, instead of chasing directly on eachother's heels, they would rush along in eccentric, continuallyintersecting paths, and there would thus be no opportunityfor consolidation, except in the case of two fragmentsmeeting each other at the intersection of their orbits. As afinal result we should have, not one good-sized planet, but amultitude of tiny planets, with intersecting orbits exhibitinggreat differences in eccentricity. All this is true of the groupof asteroids. While the mean breadth of the ideal zoneoccupied by their orbits is about 100,000,000 miles, itsextreme breadth reaches 250,000,000 miles. While the orbitof Europa is more nearly circular than any of the orbits ofthe true planets, on the other hand the orbit of Polyhymniaattains an almost cometary eccentricity, the differencebetween its perihelion and aphelion being nearly 200,000,000miles.There is one other circ*mstance, however, which mybypothesis thus far fails to explain. While the true planetsrevolve in planes but slightly inclined to the ecliptic-theorbit of Mercury showing an inclination of about sevendegrees as the maximum instance—the asteroids, on the conBB 2872 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. (pr. Ktrary, revolve in planes of quite various degrees of inclination, the orbit of Pallas rising above the ecliptic at an angleof thirty-four degrees. As the disturbing attraction ofJupiter, however various in direction, would seem to havebeen exerted wholly in one plane, I am unable to account forthis diversity of inclinations. Yet in spite of this shortcoming in the hypothesis-which might perhaps be removedby some one more thoroughly conversant with dynamics-allthe other circ*mstances in the case point unmistakeably tothe forcible rupture of the genetic ring by the attractionexerted by Jupiter; and thus it would seem that, just whenзuch an untoward event in the history of the solar systemmight have been expected to occur, it did occur.Supposing this explanation to be sound in principle, it isquite easy to show why such an event has not occurred subsequently. The next ring-the one which gave rise to Mars- must have been more than twice as thick as the genetiring of the asteroids, and consequently better fitted to resista strain from without. And, moreover, being 115,000,000miles farther removed from Jupiter, the latter planet couldexert upon it only four- ninths of the disturbing force which ithad exerted upon the asteroid-ring. Thus the Mars-ring waspermitted to develope into a planet. In turn, the small size ofMars prevented him from exerting any disastrous perturbingforce upon the ring which gave rise to the earth, though hisdistance from that ring could not have exceeded 50,000,000miles. A simple computation will show that Mars couldexert upon the earth-ring not much more than one-hundredthpart of the attraction exercised by Jupiter upon the ancestral ring of the asteroids. On the other hand, had the massof Mars been one twenty-fifth as great as that of Jupiterthat is, thirteen times as great as the mass of the earth- hemight have prevented the formation of the planet on whichwe live. And had the mass of Mars been equal to that ofJupiter, he might have dealt destruction to all the planetaryCH. V.] PLANETARY EVOLUTION. 373rings subsequently detached between himself and the presentsolar surface. The earth, Venus, and Mercury would in sucha case have been represented by a triple zone of asteroids,revolving in more or less eccentric orbits, and the portions ofplanetary matter which constitute the German armies belea.guering Paris might to-day¹ have been peacefully whirlingin space, ten million miles removed from the portions whichconstitute the starving population of that unhappy city.Joining together all the foregoing considerations, we havea most interesting array of facts, which I believe have nothitherto been contemplated in connection with one another.Though in the sizes of the planets, superficially regarded, wefind no conspicuous symmetry of arrangement, yet in thethickness of the genetic rings, as obtained by a legitimateprocess of inference, we find a symmetry of disposition thatis striking and suggestive. From Neptune to Jupiter we finda progressive increase in thickness that is entirely in conformity with the nebular hypothesis. From the asteroids toMercury there is a similar progressive increase which issimilarly in entire harmony with the hypothesis. And inthe only group of satellites concerning which we have.adequate data, there is observed a parallel phenomenon. Butin the solar system there is a conspicuous break in theuniformity of succession; and this break curiously occursjust at the place where, according to the most plausiblesupposition, there was an arrest or failure in the normalformation of a planet. I have partially succeeded in tracingthis arrest or failure to the immediate effects wrought by themere proximity and gigantic size of the planet just precedingin the order of detachment. Whether it can be shown thatthis cause, which well-nigh accounts for one of this group ofphenomena, will account in some analogous way for thewhole group; whether it can be shown that the detachmentof this gigantic mass may have altered the dynamic relationsThat is, in December 1870.374 [PT. II.COSMIC PHILOSOPHY,of the central spheroid in such a way as to reduce to aminimum its power of eliminating further rings; I willnot pretend to say. It seems to me better to leave theproblem with this clear and definite statement, rather thanto encumber it with hypothetical explanations which arequite likely to prove purely gratuitous. Of the various explanations which have occurred to me, none seem at allsatisfactory; and I will gladly resign, into abler hands, thetask of solving the problem. What we may regard, however, as fairly established, is this: that while, after theformation of Jupiter, the detachment of rings followed thesame law of progression as before, there was neverthelesssome newly-introduced circ*mstance present which affectedthe whole series of detachments in common. But while thenon-explanation of this newly-introduced circ*mstance leavesa serious gap in the argument, it is to be noted that all thefacts, so far as collated, are in harmony with the nebularhypothesis, the existence of the zone of asteroids, in particular, furnishing powerful evidence in its favour.If we pass from this complicated problem to the muchsimpler one of the distribution of the satellites, we shallfind evidence in behalf of nebular genesis so remarkable asalmost to amount to demonstration. Whoever has read thefavourite speculations of theologians concerning the " plurality of worlds," will doubtless remember how strikingly thedivine goodness is illustrated in the law that in general theremoter planets have the greater number of satellites. Herehowever, as in so many cases, observes Mr. Proctor, "thescheme of the Creator is not so obvious to human reasoningas some have complacently supposed." The " contrivances "for lighting Saturn are by no means what they ought to be,according to this teleological hypothesis. The illuminatingpower of our moon is (from its greater proximity to the sun)sixteen times greater than that of all the eight moons ofSaturn combined; while if that planet were habitable, hisCH. V.] PLANETARY EVOLUTION. 375rings would prove a formidable nuisance. Mr. Proctor hasshown that, in latitudes corresponding to that of New Yorkand Naples, they cause total eclipses of the sun, which lastseven terrestrial years at a time. But the problem whichnatural theology thus fails to solve, is completely solved bya very simple mechanical consideration. Since the detachment of a moon-forming ring from a contracting planetdepends on the excess of centrifugal force over gravity at itsequator, it is evident that rings will be detached in greatestnumbers from those planets in which the centrifugal forcebears the highest ratio to gravitation. Such planets will havethe greatest number of moons. And such, in fact, is the case.Of the four inner planets, which rotate slowly, and in whichthe centrifugal force is therefore small, only the earth isknown to have a satellite. But Jupiter, whose centrifugalforce is twenty times greater than that of any of the innerplanets, has four satellites. Uranus, with still greater centrifugal force, has at least four, and probably six or eightmoons. And finally Saturn, in which the centrifugal force isone-sixth of gravity, being nearly fifty times greater than onthe earth, has at least eight moons, besides his three unbroken(or partly-broken) rings. Mr. Spencer may well declare thatthis emphatic agreement of observation with deduction is anunanswerable argument in favour of the nebular theory.Here, where the dynamic relations involved are so simplethat we have no difficulty in tracing them, the significance ofthe result is unmistakeable. Where we are enabled thusdirectly to put the question to Nature, there is no ambiguityin her answer.In the quoit-shaped rings which girdle Saturn, we havea curious vestige-upon the significance of which Kantstrongly insisted —of the ancient history of our planetary20 1 It is not improbable that Venus .nay have a satellite also. Several astro- nomers have declared that they have seen such satellite; but as their testimony seems difficult to reconcile with that of other astronomers, equallyCompotent as observers, the question must remain an open one for the present.876 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. IL.system. So great has been the centrifugal force upon Saturn,due to his rapid rotation and small specific gravity, that thedetachment of rings would seem to have gone on after thesurface of the planet had assumed the liquid state; andwhether the rings thus formed be now continuous, or (as isfar more probable) discontinuous, they have obviously had amuch better chance of preserving their equilibrium than theordinary vaporous moon- forming rings. The dynamics of theSaturnian system still present many difficult questions; butthe fact that Saturn is the one planet which is still girdled byrings that are apparently-continuous, is a very powerfulargument in favour of the nebular hypothesis.But the evidence does not end with these mechanical illustrations. In the present physical condition of the variousplanets, so far as it can be determined, we shall find furthercorroborative testimony. It is a corollary from the nebularhypothesis that all the planets, having successively originatedfrom the same vaporous mass, must be composed in the mainof similar chemical elements; and this inference has thus farbeen uniformly corroborated by spectroscopic observationwherever there has been an opportunity to employ it. Henceit follows that the process through which the earth haspassed in contracting to its present dimensions has been, orwill be, repeated to a certain extent upon all the otherplanets. Upon any planet there must eventually occur asolidification of the crust, an extensive evaporation and precipitation of water, an upheaval of mountains, an excavationof river-beds, and a deposit of alluvium, resulting in sedimentary strata. But obviously the time at which thesephenomena occur must depend, not merely upon the antiquity of the planet, but also upon the rate with which itparts with the heat generated during its contraction. Sincethe outer planets are so much older than the inner ones, itmight at first be supposed that they must have progressedmuch further in consolidation. But against this must beCH. V.] PLANETARY EVOLUTION. 377offset the consideration that the ratio of volume to mass islikely to have been from the first very much greater in thecase of the earlier planets than in the case of the interiorones, since formed from a denser sun. Even now the highratio of volume to mass is one of the most striking characteristics of the four outer as compared with the four innerplanets; and as bulky bodies radiate heat much more slowlythan small ones, it may well be that this relatively smalldensity indicates the retention of a relatively great amountof molecular motion. Of all the factors in the case, bulk isundoubtedly the most important. Just as the hot water inthe boiler may remain warm through a winter's night, whilethe hot water in the tea-kettle cools off in an hour, so a greatplanet like Jupiter may remain in a liquid molten conditionlong after a small planet like the earth, though formed ageslater, has acquired a thick solid crust and a cool temperature.Hence in a general survey of the solar system we mayexpect to find the largest planets still showing signs of a heatlike that which formerly kept the earth molten, and we mayexpect to find the smallest planets in some cases showingsigns of a cold more intense than any which has been knownupon the earth.Now this series of inferences, constituting simply anelaborate corollary from the theory of nebular genesis, is fullyconfirmed by observation in the cases of Saturn, Jupiter,Mars, and the Moon, —the only planets whose surfaces havebeen studied with any considerable success. According tothe nebular hypothesis, Jupiter and Saturn ought to be prodigiously hot; and so they appear to be when carefullyexamined. The tremendous atmospheric disturbances observedupon both these planets are such as cannot well be explainedby the comparatively sluggish action of the sun's radianceupon such distant orbs. The atmosphere of Jupiter is ladenwith masses of cloud, whether composed solely of water ornot, whose cubic contents far exceed those of all the oceans378 (PT. IL COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.on the earth. The trade- winds, due to the swift rotation ofthe planet, gather these enormous masses into belts parallelwith its equator. Storms and typhoons are incessantly ragingin this vapour-laden atmosphere; and the forces at workthere are so stupendous that dense cloud- belts , thousands ofmiles in width, are often formed in a single hour. This stateof things is not like that which is now witnessed upon theearth's surface; it is more like the state of things observedupon the sun, where tornadoes continually occur, in whichthe earth, if it were there, would be whirled along like a leafin an equinoctial gale. A similar state of things must haveexisted, in miniature, upon our own planet, in that primitiveage when its oceans were in large part held suspended in thedense seething atmosphere, and when the intense volcanicfires within kept the surface in ceaseless agitation. In Saturnsimilar phenomena are witnessed. The appearance called the"square-shouldered figure " of Saturn, first observed by SirWilliam Herschel in 1805, has suggested the conclusion thatthe giant bulk of the planet " is subject to throes of sotremendous a nature as to upheave whole zones of his surfacefive or six hundred miles above their ordinary level."Whether this be really the case, or whether, as Mr. Proctormore plausibly suggests, the prominences which give thesquare-shouldered aspect are due to the shoving up ofimmense masses of cloud far above the mean layer of Saturn'scloud-envelope, we must equally recognize the presence ofintense heat and furious volcanic action in the interior ofthat planet. When we add that recent calculations havemade it almost certain that both Jupiter and Saturn are tosome extent self-luminous, it becomes probable that thesegreat planets still resemble their parent, the sun, more closelythan they resemble their younger and smaller brethren.Very different is the state of things witnessed upon themoon. The absence of an atmosphere from the lunar surfacevas long since proved by the fact that " when stars areCH. V.] PLANETARY EVOLUTION. 379Dcculted by the moon, they disappear instantaneously,”-which would not be the case had the moon an appreciableatmosphere; and spectroscopic evidence has confirmed thisconclusion. Nor are there any signs of the presence ofliquid oceans, or of running water. Yet if the moon wasoriginally formed from an equatorial zone of the earth, itwould seem that it ought to contain the same materials whichhave from the oldest times constituted a considerable part ofthe terrestrial surface. Besides this, the vast plains on themoon which the old astronomers supposed to be seas, andnamed as such, are now held to be areas underlaid bysedimentary rocks implying the former presence of water.¹If this view be correct, there must in all probability havebeen winds to excite the erosive movements of the waterwhich caused this sedimentation. For tidal action upon themoon cannot be regarded as a considerable factor in theerosion, unless we go back to that enormously remote periodwhen the earth's tidal pull was still employed in draggingthe moon's rotation into synchrony with its revolution.Here there is an apparent discrepancy, which will disappear, however, when we inquire further into the pastcareer of the moon as indicated by the present condition ofits surface. To a great extent the lunar surface is made upof huge masses of igneous rock, through which at shortintervals yawn enormous volcanic craters, whose fires seemto be totally extinguished. The giant forces required tobring about such a state of things are now quiescent. Andthis implies that the moon is a dead planet. It implies thatthe thermal energies which were once instrumental in raisingthose huge cones, Tycho, Copernicus, and the rest-quaintlynamed after our terrestrial heroes of science-and which oncedrove up fiery streams of molten lava through their ample1 Moreover, " it is not to be forgotten that, so far as terrestrial experienceIs concerned, water is absolutely essential to the occurrence of volcanie action." Proctor, The Moon, p. 353.380 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY [PT. II ..mouths, are now clean gone, radiated off into space. Thiscessation of volcanic activity indicates that the planet hasreached its limit of consolidation, and is no longer generatingheat from within.¹ Now the degree of cold implied by thisstoppage of further lunar consolidation must immeasurablyexceed anything within terrestrial experience. It may wellhave been great enough to freeze all the lunar oceans, andeven to liquefy, or perhaps to solidify, the gases of the lunaratmosphere. The moon is indeed subjected at each rotationto the fierce noontide heat sent from the sun; but howeverthis may scorch and blister the rocky surface, it can exercisebut little melting power. An atmosphere, as Mayer hashappily observed, is like a valve which lets water run through1 "Nevertheless, there are processes at work out yonder which must be as active, one cannot but believe, as any of those which affect our earth. In each lunation , the moon's surface undergoes changes of temperature whichshould suffice to disintegrate large portions of her surface, and with time to crumble her loftiest mountains into shapeless heaps. In the long lunar nightof fourteen days, a cold far exceeding the intensest ever produced in terres- trial experiments must exist over the whole of the unilluminated hemisphere;and under the influence of this cold all the substances composing the moon's crust must shrink to their least dimensions-not all equally ( in this we find a circ*mstance increasing the energy of the disintegrating forces), but eachaccording to the quality which our physicists denominate the coefficient of expansion. Then comes on the long lunar day, at first dissipating the intense cold, then gradually raising the substance of the lunar crust to a higher andhigher degree of heat, until ( if the inferences of our most skilful physicists,and the evidence obtained from our most powerful means of experiment canbe trusted) the surface of the moon burns (one may almost say) with a heat of some 500° F. Under this tremendous heat all the substances which hadshrunk to their least dimensions must expand according to their various degrees; not greatly, indeed, so far as any small quantity of matter is affected, but to an important amount when large areas of the moon's surfaceare considered. Remembering the effects which take place on our earth, in the mere change from the frost of winter to the moderate warmth of earlyspring, it is difficult to conceive that such remarkable contraction and expan sion can take place in a surface presumably less coherent than the relativelymoist and plastic substances comprising the terrestrial crust, without gradually effecting the demolition of the steeper lunar elevations. When we consider,further, that these processes are repeated not year by year, but month by month, and that all the circ*mstances attending them are calculated to terder them most effective because so slow, steadfast, and uniform in theirprogression, it certainly does not seem wonderful that our telescopists should from time to time recognize signs of change in the moon's face.”—Procton The Moon, pp. 380-382.SH. V.] PLANETARY EVOLUTION. 381in one direction, but not in the other. Through an envelopingatmosphere the solar rays easily pierce, but return withdifficulty. But from the airless surface of the moon thesolar radiance must be immediately reflected into space, asfrom the surface of a polished mirror. Just as on thesummits of the Himalayas, where the atmosphere is so rare,the huge snow-masses remain through centuries unmelted, inspite of the sun's blazing heat; so on the surface or in thedeep abysms of the moon, the air and water once frozen mustremain frozen forever.We have not yet, however, reached a satisfactory interpretation of the original disappearance of the lunar atmosphere. Granting the disappearance of the atmosphere, themaintenance of a more than arctic cold in spite of the utmostintensity of solar radiation may readily be admitted. But inthis explanation the absence of a surface atmosphere is presupposed rather than accounted for. Yet I have thought itworth while to introduce the case in this way, as we thus geta more vivid impression of the actual state of things uponthe moon. For the original disappearance of the lunar airand water, a far more thoroughgoing explanation was propounded some years since by M. Saemann; ¹ but in thisexplanation the extreme cooling of the moon, as just illustrated, is implicitly involved. According to M. Saemann,the lunar air and water have been literally drunk up by thethirsty rocks. On our own globe the tendency of the surfacewater is constantly to percolate through the soil of the landor sea-bottom, and thence through the rocks, downwardtowards the centre of the earth. Yet with our presentsupply of internal heat, it is not probable that any water canreach more than one hundredth part of the distance towardsthe earth's centre, without becoming vaporized and thus getting1 In a paper on the unity of geological phenomena throughout the solar system, translated by Prof. Sterry Hunt, and published in the American Journal of Science, January, 1862.882 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. 11.driven back towards the surface. In this way there is keptup a circulation of water through the peripheral portions ofthe earth's crust. But as the earth becomes cooler and cooler,the water will be enabled to circulate at greater and greaterdepths, thus materially lowering the level of the ocean. Inthis way, long before the centre has become cool, all thesurface-water of the earth will have been sucked into thepores of the rocks, and a similar process will afterwards takeplace with the atmosphere. M. Saemann shows that by thetime the earth had reached complete refrigeration, the poresof the rocks would absorb more than one hundred times theamount of all the oceans on the globe, while room would stillbe left for the retiring atmosphere. Now this state ofthings, which will no doubt by and by be realized on theearth, would seem to be already realized on the moon.Being forty-nine times smaller than the earth, the moon hascooled with great rapidity, and its geologic epochs have beencorrespondingly short.1After the moon, we are more familiar with the surface ofMars than with that of any other heavenly body, the position of Venus being very unfavourable for thorough observations. Concerning the physical geography and meteorology ofMars, some trustworthy information has been obtained. Thedistribution of land and sea over his surface is sufficientlyobvious to be delineated in maps. He possesses liquid oceans,proved by spectroscopic evidence to consist of water, andhis atmosphere is gaseous. That he possesses climates analogous to our own might be inferred from the inclination of hisaxis to his orbit-plane, and is inductively proved by the factthat we can actually see his polar snows accumulate duringthe Martial winter and melt away at the approach of the661 It should be added that the rapid cooling of the moon would greatlyincrease the porosity of its substance. Prof. Frankland has shown thatassuming the solid mass of the moon to contract on cooling at the samerate as granite, its refrigeration through only 180° F. would create cellular space equal to nearly fourteen and a half millions of cubic miles."JH. V.]PLANETARY EVOLUTION. 383Martial summer. Coincidences like these bear sufficienttestimony to a general resemblance between Mars and theearth. For where there are oceans and clouds and anatmosphere and polar snows, there must also be currents,aerial and oceanic, as well as rains, rivers, and sedimentaryrocks; so that the surface of Mars must probably presentgeologic phenomena not essentially unlike those witnessedupon the earth. Whether such geologic similarity hasentailed a further resemblance in the case of organic andsuper-organic phenomena, must be left for the more profounddeductive science of some future day to determine.Thus from whatever point of view we study our planetarysystem, we find such a congeries of phenomena as wouldhave been produced by the gradual development of thesystem from a hom*ogeneous nebula. On summing up theconspicuous facts already cited, we see that the nebular hypothesis fully explains the shapes of the planetary orbits, andtheir slight inclinations to the plane of the solar equator; theshapes of the satellite-orbits, and their proximate coincidencewith the equatorial planes of their primaries; the inclinations of the planetary axes to their orbit- planes; the oblatefigures of the planets; their velocities of rotation; the directions in which they revolve; and the directions in whichthey rotate. To this last clause the apparent obstacle presented by the retrograde rotation of Uranus (and possibly ofNeptune also) is seen on closer examination to be no realobstacle; and the fact that the exception occurs among theoutermost planets, just where we might expect it to occur, ifat all, is a powerful argument in favour of the general theory.A like powerful argument is furnished by the existence ofapparently-continuous rings about Saturn, the planet uponwhich the centrifugal force bears the highest ratio to gravity.Still more convincing is the testimony rendered by the distribution of satellites, -a testimony well-nigh meeting allthe requirements of crucial proof. Irregular as are the sizes384 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. ILof the planets on a superficial view, we find beneath thisapparent irregularity a marvellous symmetry of dispositionthe explanation of which, though incomplete, is as far as itgoes in favour of the nebular hypothesis. The breaking upof the zone of asteroids, though not fully explained, is seento have occurred in the only part of the system where such anevent, according to the hypothesis, was likely to occur. Andfinally the geologic or meteorologic phenomena manifested bythe four planets whose surfaces have thus far been successfully studied, are just what the theory requires them to beThe intense heat and furious volcanic activity of Jupiterand Saturn, the extreme loss of heat and cessation of volcanicactivity upon the moon, the moderate temperature and habitable aspect of Mars, are alike deducible from the nebularhypothesis.I doubt if such persistent agreement between deductionand observation has ever been witnessed in the case of anerroneous or radically inadequate hypothesis. If the soleultimate test of a theory is that it reconciles the order ofconceptions with the order of phenomena, may we not saythat the theory of Kant and Laplace, having sustained therepeated application of this test, may be accepted provisionallyas a true account of the past history of our system ofworlds? It is true that the application of the test has notyet been made exhaustive; the verification is not yetcomplete. Some of the interpretations above given are still,as I have acknowledged, but partial; and there are yet othergroups of phenomena with which I have not ventured tomeddle. To the various densities of the planets I havealluded but incidentally; and the various angular velocities.as well as the order of distances formulated in the law ofTitius, still await an explanation. Besides which, the evidence from the physical condition of the surfaces of Mercuryand Venus, Uranus and Neptune, and the moons of the fourouter planets, is not yet forthcoming. It would be assertingCH. V.] PLANETARY EVOLUTION. 385too much, unerefore, to assert that the nebular hypothesis iscompletely verified, like the hypothesis of gravitation. Buton the other hand, they understand little of the logic ofscientific inquiry who expect to obtain the same kind anddegree of evidence in the former case as in the latter. Itwas part of Newton's rare good fortune that his hypothesiswas the generalization of a physical property of matter,which could be verified by a single crucial instance. Innone of the concrete sciences can such kind of verificationbe looked for. A theory relating to a heterogeneous assemblage of concrete phenomena can only be verified gradually,as the successive groups of phenomena in question are oneafter another successfully studied and interpreted. Thus thecomplete verification of the nebular hypothesis, as appliedmerely to the solar system, involves the complete explanation of the chief dynamic and physical features of thesystem; and for this we have yet to wait. Meanwhile thetheory possesses such unmistakeable marks of genuineness,it conforms in so many and various ways to the test ofreconciling the order of conceptions with the order ofphenomena, that no one capable of estimating scientific evidence would hesitate in provisionally accepting it. Devisedto account for a certain limited group of phenomena, it notonly accounts for these, but also for other groups of phenomena, not considered by its propounders. Facts which on asuperficial view appeared as obstacles to the theory, have oncloser examination turned out to be powerful arguments inits favour. It is sustained by all the facts within our ken,and invalidated by none. And it has so far thriven withthe progress of discovery during the past hundred and twentyyears, that at the present moment it commands wider assentthan at any previous time since its first promulgation.Of this last statement we find striking confirmation asve pass beyond the limits of the solar system and seek forevidence in the remotest depths of stellar space. It is wellVOL. L со386 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY, [PT. II.known that Sir William Herschel supposed certain irresolv.able nebula to consist of self-luminous vapour hoveringcloud-like in space. Laplace associated this hypothesis withhis own theory of planetary evolution; pointing to the present existence of nebulous masses as confirmatory proof ofthe past existence of such a nebulous mass as his theoryrequired. According to this view, the irresolvable nebulæ aresimply starry systems in embryo; and when our planetarysystem consisted simply of the sun diffused in gaseous formover a circumference of perhaps thirty thousand million miles,it was just like one of these nebulæ. But since Herschel'stime many nebulæ, which he regarded as irresolvable, havebeen resolved into dense starry clusters. The great nebulain Orion, upon which Herschel placed great reliance, wasresolved both by Lord Rosse's reflector and by our Harvardrefractor; and the suspicion began accordingly to arise that,if our telescopes were only powerful enough, there mightprove to be no irresolvable nebulæ at all.Hence manywriters thoughtlessly hastened to proclaim that the nebulartheory had lost its chief support, forgetting that the overwhelming evidence furnished by the comparatively wellknown structure of the solar system must take precedence ofany hypothesis as to the character of remote and less-knownsidereal phenomena. Mr. Chambers, in giving an account ofthe resolution of the " dumb-bell " nebula in Vulpecula,rather gleefully wrote the obituary of the nebular hypothesis;but like many other obituaries, this one turned out to bepremature. For now came Mr. Huggins, with his spectroscope, and proved once for all that the wary and sagaciousHerschel, who hardly ever made a false step, was right, hereas elsewhere. In 1864 Mr. Huggins analyzed the light sentfrom a nebula in Draco, and found it to contain the brightlines which are sure evidence of the gaseous condition of theluminous body. Since then several other nebulæ have beenproved to be gaseous; so that the question may now beJH V.]PLANETARY EVOLUTION. 387regarded as settled for ever, and as settled in favour of thenebular hypothesis. Henceforth, to the evidence found inthe structure of our planetary system, there may be addedthe weighty argument that masses of matter still exist inspace, in the very condition in which our system must haveoriginally existed.If the nebular hypothesis was ever to be subjected to ahazardous trial, one would suppose that the discovery ofspectrum analysis must have furnished the occasion. Hereis a discovery which has suddenly enlarged our knowledge ofthe stellar universe in a manner utterly beyond the power ofthe greatest and subtlest mind to have predicted twentyyears ago, a discovery which not only reveals to us theactual motions of the stars, but even penetrates into theirmolecular structure, and discloses the chemical elements ofwhich their surfaces are composed as well as the physicalstate of aggregation of those surfaces. Now if ever, onemight think, is the time to find out whether our nebularhypothesis, devised in an era of comparatively scanty astronomical knowledge, is a sound hypothesis or not. If itsurvives this immense, unprecedented extension of our knowledge, what more magnificent triumph could we wish for it?And here we see that the very first result of the applicationof spectrum analysis to sidereal phenomena has been theplacing of the nebular hypothesis upon a firmer basis thanever before, removing the only serious obstacle which hadhitherto deterred many cautious thinkers from committingthemselves to it.Spectroscopic researches but lately undertaken, and not yetcarried out to a decisive result, seem likely not only furtherto strengthen the noble theory of Kant and Laplace, but togive it a comprehensive significance of which those greatthinkers could never have dreamed. Along with furtherconfirmation of the process of mechanical and physicalevolution, as originally formulated in their hypothesis, eviCC 2388 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. ILdences are daily coming in to show that there is going on aparallel process of chemical evolution from hom*ogeneity toheterogeneity, which is no less wonderful in its significance.The old empirical classification of stars according to theircolours is beginning to have a new meaning. The method ofcomparison is becoming applicable in astronomy, as it haslong been employed in the study of organisms, of societies,and of languages. It begins to be probable that among thevarious groups of stellar bodies there may be found cosmicalmatter in many different stages of evolution,-from the primitive nebula which yields but a simple hydrogen- line, tosuch a highly- evolved body as our own sun with the manylined vapour of iron abundant in its heated atmosphere.But into this fascinating region of speculation it wouldbe somewhat premature for us now to enter. Merelyindicating what a rich harvest of discovery is here likelyto reward the labourers of the immediate future, I wouldcall attention to an interesting speculation of Mr. Spencer's,the possible inadequacy of which need not weaken theeffect of the evidence above cited from planetary phenomena, and which is in every way worthy of seriousconsideration.According to Mr. Spencer, the distribution of nebulæaffords a significant illustration of the nebular hypothesis.Speaking generally, nebulæ occur in regions where developedstars are scarce. The vast groups of spherical nebulæ, hereand there partly developed into starry clusters, which constitute the so- called Magellanic Clouds, are situated in adistrict of the sky that is otherwise starless. Now by farthe most striking of this class of facts is one which serves tobring the entire sidereal system into direct comparison withthat little portion of it to which we belong. Just as theplanets lie almost entirely in a single plane, so the stars aredistributed in almost infinite numbers in the plane of theMilky Way, while elsewhere they occur rarely. And justOR. v.] PLANETARY EVOLUTION. 389as the comets are chiefly distributed about the poles ofour solar system, their orbits cutting its equatorial plane atgreat angles, so the nebulæ are found in greatest numbersabout the poles of the galaxy. It seems unlikely that thisparallelism, which Mr. Spencer was the first to point out,should be accidental. It indicates a common mode of evolution of the whole starry system. It vaguely points to agigantic process of concentration going on throughout thegalaxy, analogous to the local process of concentration whichhas gone on in our own little planetary group. Still moreobvious will this become when we consider the explanationof these phenomena which Mr. Spencer has offered.Observation shows that while the more consolidatednebulæ are oval or spheroidal in shape, the less consolidatednebulæ are often extremely irregular, throwing out long armsof vaporous matter into the adjacent spaces. This agreeswith what we have learned to expect in any rotating masswhich gravitation is slowly drawing closer and closer together.The oval form is due, as we have seen, to the combinedeffects of gravitation and rotatory movement. But this implies an earlier state in which the figure was irregular. Nowwhile the heavier portions of the mass were being drawntogether so as to acquire a spheroidal contour, the lighterportions, floating farther from the centre of gravity, wouldremain like detached shreds of cloud, or like long luminousstreaks. And while all these would ultimately be compelledby gravitation to revolve about the centre of the mass, nevertheless the lightest and outermost shreds would be a longtime in acquiring a definite direction of revolution. Whilethe greater number would be doubtless drawn in and absorbed by the main mass at an early stage, the chances arethat some would not arrive until the main mass had becomeconsiderably contracted. Now it is easy to see that suchlate arriving flocculi, coming toward the centre of gravityfrom a great distance, and therefore having small angular890 COSMIC [PT. IL.PHILOSOPHY.velocities, will move in very eccentric ellipses. In the nextplace, while they will come from all parts of the space whichthe mass originally occupied, they will come chiefly fromregions remote from the plane in which integration has beenmost marked, —that is, from the poles of the nebula ratherthan from its equatorial regions. And thirdly, having failedto accompany the retreating mass of the nebula while itwas first acquiring a definite direction of rotation, theirown revolutions will be determined chiefly by their irregular shapes, and they will be as likely to be retrogradeas direct.All this is true of comets: they come chiefly from highsolar latitudes, along immensely eccentric orbits, and indirections which are indifferently direct or retrograde. Andwhen we add that they are nebulous in constitution, itappears highly probable that they are simply outlying shredsof the nebula from which our planetary system has beendeveloped. As for the irresolvable patches of nebulousmatter which are distributed about the poles of the galacticcircle, their distance from us is so great that we have not yetascertained anything trustworthy concerning their motions.But the fact that their position in high galactic latitudes isexplicable upon the same general principles which explainthe positions of comets, raises a presumption that theirrelation to the galaxy as a whole may somewhat resemblethat which comets bear to the solar system. Between thepossible careers of the nebula and the comets, there is,however, a mighty difference. The nebula which we seethrough quadrillions of miles shining by a light of its ownmust needs be an enormous object-enormous in mass aswell as in volume-and its gravitative force must be proportionate to its size. While, therefore, its gradual contraction is likely to be attended by its development into aplanetary system, by a process of integration and differentiation such as we have here described; on the other

1. H. V.] PLANETARY EVOLUTION. 391

hand the comet is an object of inconsiderable mass, thoughoften of considerable volume. The slight concentration ofwhich it is capable will not produce planetary systems oreven asteroids, but only streams of meteors or shooting-stars,such as are now poured down upon the earth and its neighbour planets at the rate of a hundred thousand million eachyear. The researches of the past ten years have gone farto show that such meteoric streams differ from nebulouscomets in no respect save in their greater aggregation; thedifference being similar to the difference between a cloudand a shower of rain-drops. We are constantly encountering portions of these condensed comets and uniting themwith our own planetary substance. And in this way theintegration of the outlying portions of our primitive nebulais, at this late day, still going on.As we pause to survey, in a single comprehensive glance,this gigantic process of Planetary Evolution , in which theintegration of matter and concomitant dissipation of molecular motion, kept up during untold millions of ages, hasbrought about the gradual transformation of a relativelyhom*ogeneous, indefinite, and incoherent mass of nebularvapour into a decidedly heterogeneous, definite, and coherentsystem of worlds; we are at first struck by the peculiaritythat the process has apparently long since come to a closein the establishment of a complete moving equilibrium.Habituated as we are to the contemplation of fleetingphenomena, the stars in their courses have become thetypes of permanence; and the stability of our planetarysystem has furnished a fruitful theme for the admiring comnents of the mathematician and the theologian. In so faras this appearance of eternal stability is well founded, itadmirably illustrates the theorem, already cited in our discussion of the rhythm of motion, that wherever the forcesin action are few in number and simple in composition, the392 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. ILresulting rhythms will be simple and long-enduring. Nevertheless the processes still going on in our system are suchas to forbid the conclusion that this apparently permanentequilibrium is destined really to be permanent. The concentration of matter and concomitant dissipation of molecular motion, which has gone on from the beginning, muststill continue to go on until it has reached its limit. Thatconsolidation and accompanying refrigeration which haschanged the earth from a nebula into an incandescent star,and from a star into an inhabitable planet, must continueuntil a state of things is inaugurated for which we must seeka parallel in the present condition of the moon. So, too,the contraction which generates the prodigious quantity ofheat daily lost by the sun, cannot go on forever withoutreducing the sun to a solidity incompatible with the furthergeneration of radiant energy.Thus the moon appears to afford an example of theuniversal death which in an unimaginably remote future,awaits all the members of the solar system. It then becomes an interesting question whether this cosmic deathwill be succeeded by Dissolution,—that is, by the rediffusion of the matter of which the system is composed, andby the reabsorption of the lost motion or its equivalent.We shall find it difficult to escape the conclusion that such aDissolution must ultimately take place.If, along with the dissipation of molecular motion alreadydescribed, the planets are also losing that molar motion towhich is due their tangential momentum, this loss of motionmust ultimately bring about their reunion with the sun.Upon such a point direct observation can help us but little;but there are two opposing considerations, of a force whichnone will deny, and based on facts which none can dispute.Two sets of circ*mstances are struggling for the mastery,-the one set tending to drive the planets farther and fartheraway from the centre of the system, the other set tending toCH. V.] PLANETARY EVOLUTION. 393draw them towards the centre. Let us see which set mustprevail in the end.Hitherto, in all probability, the first set of circ*mstanceshas had the advantage. There is little reason to doubt thatall the planetary orbits, both primary and secondary, aresomewhat larger now than they were originally. This is anindirect consequence of the slow loss of rotatory momentumdue to tidal action. The calculation by which Laplacethought he had proved that the terrestrial day had notlengthened since the time of Hipparchos, has been shownby Prof. Adams to be vitiated by the inclusion of an erroneous datum; and the theory involved is no longertenable. It has been proved that the tidal wave whichthe moon draws twice a day around the earth, in the opposite direction to the terrestrial rotation, acts upon theearth like a brake on a carriage- wheel. Owing to this circ*mstance, the day is now one eighty- fourth part of a secondlonger than at the beginning of the Christian era; and it isdestined to continue lengthening until in the remote futurethere will be from three to four hundred hours betweensunrise and sunset. But the rotatory momentum thuslost by the earth is not destroyed. In conformity witha well- known principle of dynamics, it is added to thetangential momentum of the moon, and thus lengthens theradius of the moon's orbit. The more slowly our planetrotates, the farther the moon retires from us. A similarrelation holds good in the case of the planets and the sun.Not only is it demonstrable d priori that the planets mustcause tides upon the surface of the sun, but the tides causedby all the primary planets, save Mars, Uranus, and Neptune,have been actually detected by a minute comparison ofthe variations in the solar spots. These tidal waves aredrawn around the sun in the direction opposite to that ofhis rotation, and must therefore exert a retarding effect.And the rotatory momentum thus stolen from the sun is394 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY [PT. ILadded, in accordance with a pro ratâ principle of distribution, to the tangential momenta of the various planetsconcerned in the theft. There can be little doubt, therefore, that all the planetary orbits, both primary and secondary, are steadily enlarging, and that this process must go onuntil that synchrony between revolution and rotation nowwitnessed in our moon becomes universal, unless it is previously checked by the cessation of tidal phenomena. Asbetween the earth and moon, for example, the ultimateresult of the whole process must be the lengthening of theterrestrial day until it corresponds with a lunar month, sothat the earth and moon will move in relation to each otherjust as if joined together by a rigid rod. This result willactually be realized unless forestalled by the completedrefrigeration of the earth, which will put an end to thetidal friction. In like manner the sun's rotation mustdiminish until equilibrated with the motions of the planets,unless this result is forestalled by the completed refrigeration of the sun. And in all cases, so long as the processgoes on, there must be a tendency, however slight, for theplanets to recede from the sun.The action of this set of circ*mstances, however, thoughhitherto no doubt predominant, is strictly limited in duration.Sooner or later an equilibration of motions will be reached,and this receding tendency will cease to be manifested. Itis quite otherwise with the opposing set of circ*mstanceswhich we have now to consider. We have now to contemplate a cause which operating from the very outset, and stillinsidiously operating, will continue to operate long after theprocess just described has come to an end. Each year's discoveries show more and more conclusively that the interplanetary spaces are filled with matter. The existence ofsome interplanetary and interstellar matter is indeed anecessary condition for the transmission of light and otherforms of radiance. Now wherever a body moves throughUX. V.] PLANETARY EVOLUTION. 895material medium, it meets with resistance; it imparts motionto the medium, and loses motion in so doing. If the body isa planet like Jupiter, weighing a couple of septillions of tons,and rushing along at the rate of eight miles per secondthrough an ether far lighter than the air left in an exhaustedreceiver, the resistance will be inconceivably small, I admit.Still there will be resistance, and long before the end of time,this resistance will have eaten up all the immense momen.tum of the planet. A Hindu, wishing to give expression tohis idea of the duration of hell-fire, said that if a gauze veilwere to be brushed against the Himalaya mountains once ina hundred million centuries, the time required for thus wearing away the whole rocky range would measure the tormentsof the wicked. One marvels at such a grandiose imagination;but the realities of science beggar all such attempts at givingtangible shape to infinitude. The resistance of an etherealmedium may work its effects even more slowly than theHindu's veil, yet in time the effects must surely be wrought.Either the planets are moving in an absolute vacuum-asupposition which is incompatible with the transmission ofheat and light-or else the resistance of the medium musttend to diminish their angular velocities.¹In the absence of any counteracting agencies-and, afterthe cessation of the process above described, none such areassignable—this loss of tangential momentum must ultimately bring all the planets into the sun, one after another,beginning with Mercury and ending with Neptune. Here theconcentration of matter appears to have reached its limit.But what must now happen?Let us note that the tangential momentum lost by theplanet is lost only relatively to its distance from the sun. Asthe planet draws nearer to the sun, its lost tangentialmomentum is replaced, and somewhat more than replaced, bythe added velocity due to the increased gravitative force1 See Balfour Stewart, The Conservation of Energy, p. 96.896 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [FT. II.exerted by the sun at the shorter distance. But this newlyadded momentum is all needed to maintain the planet at itsnew distance from the central mass, and can never be available to carry it back to the old distance. It is thus thatEncke's comet moves more and more rapidly as it approachesthe sun, into which it appears to be soon destined to bedrawn. For these reasons the earth, which now moves atthe rate of 18 miles per second, would attain a velocity of379 miles per second when in the immediate neighbourhoodof the solar mass. Hence when at last the planet strikesthe sun, it must strike it with tremendous force. In a collision of this sort, the heat generated by the earth and sunalone would suffice to produce a temperature of nearly ninemillion degrees Fahrenheit. Without pursuing the argumentinto further detail, it is obvious that the integration of thewhole solar system, after this fashion, would be followed bythe complete disintegration of the matter of which it is constituted. After the reunion of the planets with the sun,the next stage is the dissipation of the whole mass into anebula.If we now go back for a moment to the beginning, andask what antecedent form of energy could have generatedthe motion of repulsion which sustained our genetic nebulaat its primitive state of expansion, the reply must be thatnothing but a rapid evolution of heat could have generatedsuch a motion of repulsion. And if we ask whence camethis rapid evolution of heat, we may now fairly surmise thatit was due to some previous collision of cosmical bodies;arrested molar motion being incomparably the most prolificknown source of heat. Thus we get a glimpse of some preceding epoch of planetary evolution, from the final catastropheof which emerged the state of things which we now witness.Wehave here reached the very limit of scientific inferenceFor note that, since the greater part of the potential energyrepresented by the primitive expansion of our solar nebulsCH. V.] PLANETARY EVOLUTION. 397has been transformed into heat and radiated away, and is notrepresented by any form of motor energy now stored up inthe solar system, it follows that the sudden transformation ofthe penultimate molar motions of the planets into heat cannotresult in the production of another nebula so large as theone from which our present system has been evolved. Inseeking to trace out the implications of this conclusion, weat once arrive at an impassable barrier, which is only shifted,but not overthrown, when we consider the results of theprobable ultimate conflict between our own system, thus disintegrated, and other sidereal systems belonging to our galaxy.In order to give a complete account of the matter, we oughtto know what has become of all this motor energy which wehave been so prodigally pouring away, in the shape of radiantheat, into the interstellar spaces. Is the equivalent of thismotor energy ever to be restored, or is the greater part of itforever lost in the abysses of infinite space? Before we cananswer such a question, we need to know whether the interstellar ether, which is the vehicle for the transmission ofmolecular motion, is definitely limited in extent, or practically infinite; and we need to take into the account thedynamic relations, not only of our entire galactic system,but of other stellar systems, if such there are, beyond theutmost ken of the telescope. Here science fails us. Astronomy, the simplest and clearest of the sciences, becomes,when treated on this great scale, the most difficult andobscure. An infinity and an eternity confront us, the secretsof which we may not hope to unravel. Atthe outermostverge to which scientific methods can guide us, we can onlycatch a vague glimpse of a stupendous rhythmical alternaion between eras of Evolution and eras of Dissolution, succeeding each other " without vestiges of a beginning andwithout prospect of an end."CHAPTER VLTHE EVOLUTION OF THE EARTH.IN treating of Evolution in general, it was shown howorganic bodies are, by a peculiar concurrence of conditions,enabled to lock up a great deal of motion within a smallcompass, so that permanent redistributions of structure andfunction can be effected. From the decisiveness with whichthis peculiar advantage possessed by organic bodies wasindicated, it might have been surmised that in the case ofinorganic aggregates an attempt to trace the secondaryphenomena of differentiation and integration would proveillusory, owing to the absence of this concurrence of conditions. In many inorganic bodies it is true that there doesnot go on to any notable extent that secondary redistributionwhich results in increase of heterogeneity. The evolution ofa cloud, a rock, or a crystal, is little more than an integrationof matter attended by dissipation of motion. In the evolution of the solar system, on the other hand, we havewitnessed an increase in heterogeneity, definiteness, andcoherence that is very marked, though by no means SOprominent as in the case of organic evolution. This increasein determinate multiformity, such as it is, is due to thespecial mechanical principle that in any rotating system ofparticles, regarded as practically isolated, a steady concentra.CH . VI. ] THE EVOLUTION OF THE EARTH. 399tion, entailing increased rotatory velocity, must end in thesegregation of the equatorial zone from the rest of thesystem. This principle is exemplified, on a diminutive scale,in the artificial evolution of a system of cil-globules, wherebyM. Plateau has imitated the evolution of the planets. To theresulting equilibration between gravity and the centrifugaltendency at the place where the detachment occurred, is duethe permanence and definiteness of the structural differentiation. Owing to these conditions, and to its enormous size,implying great power of condensation along with the veryslow dissipation of the heat generated by the condensation,the integration of our genetic nebula has been compatiblewith the retention of much relative motion of parts. Andhere accordingly, as in all cases where there is a considerableretention of internal motion, the secondary rearrangementscharacteristic of Evolution have been conspicuously manifested.In the evolution of our earth, regarded by itself, we have alsoto notice a very decided progress in determinate multiformity,even without taking into the account that specialized group ofterrestrial phenomena which we distinguish as organic. Herethere have been two conditions favourable to the retention ofenough motion to allow considerable secondary rearrangementof parts. In the first place, the great size of the earth hasprevented it from parting too rapidly with the heat generatedduring its condensation; and since the early formation of asolid, poorly-conducting crust, the loss from radiation wouldseem to have been very gradual. The importance of thiscirc*mstance may best be appreciated by remembering thevery different career of the moon, as indicated in the foregoingchapter. The disappearance of igneous and aqueous agencieson the moon implies the cessation of structural rearrangementthere at this early date; ¹ and when we sought for an explana1 This statement must be taken, however, with some qualification. See above, p. 380.400 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY [PT. II. .tion of this state of things, we found an adequate explanationin the rapid loss of heat which the small size of the moonhas entailed. It is not likely, therefore, that the moon canever have been the theatre of a geologic and organic development so rich and varied as that which the earth has witnessed.¹In the second place, the following chapter will show thatthe chief circ*mstance which has favoured terrestrial heterogeneity has been the continuous supply of molecular motionfrom the sun. To this source may be traced all the aqueousphenomena, save the tides, which concur in maintaining thediversity of the earth's surface. And having thus seen howa complex geologic evolution is rendered possible, we shallfurther discern that organic evolution also that highlyspecialized series of terrestrial events-is rendered possibleby the same favouring circ*mstance.An example of the too hasty kind of inference which is often drawn indiscussing the question of life upon other planets, may be found in a recent lucid and suggestive pamphlet by Prof. Winchell, entitled " The Geology of the Stars. " " The zoic age of the moon, " says the author, 66 was reachedwhile yet our world remained, perhaps, in a glowing condition . Its humanperiod was passing while the eozoon was solitary occupant of our primeval ocean. " More careful reflection will probably convince us that, with such arapid succession of geologic epochs, the moon can hardly have had any human period . For the purposes of comparative geology, the earth and the moon may be regarded as of practically the same antiquity. Now, supposing the earliest ape- like men to have made their appearance on the earth, say during the Miocene epoch, we must remember that at that period the moon must have advanced in refrigeration much farther than the earth. Supposingorganic evolution to have gone on with equal pace in the two planets, it mightbe argued that the moon would be fast becoming unfit for the support of organic life at about the time when man appeared on the earth. Still more,it is a fair inference from the theory of natural selection, that upon a small planet there is likely to be a slower and less rich and varied evolution of life than upon a large planet. On the whole, therefore, it does not seem likely that the moon can ever have given rise to organisms nearly so high in the scale of life as human beings. Long before it could have attained to any such point, its surface is likely to have become uninhabitable by air- breathing organisms. Long before this, no doubt, its surface air and water must havesunk into its interior, and left it the mere lifeless ember that it is. The moon would thus appear to be not merely an extinct world, but a partially abortedworld; and the still smaller asteroids are perhaps totally aborted worlds.Nevertheless, from the earth down to the moon, and from the moon down to an asteroid, the differences are at bottom only differences of degree; though the differences in result may range all the way from a world habitable by civilized men down to a mere dead ball of planetary matter. An interestingexample, if it be sound, of the continuity of cosmical phenomena.¢ H VI. ] THE EVOLUTION OF THE EARTH. 401Let us now proceed to note two or three conspicuous featuresof geologic evolution, remembering that in so doing we are butfollowing out a portion of the phenomena of planetary evolution discussed in the preceding chapter. There is no demarcation in the series of phenomena, save that which wearbitrarily introduce for convenience of study and exposition.The process of integration of matter and dissipation of motionwhich we have just witnessed in the solar nebula as a whole,we have now to witness in that segregated portion of it whichwe call our earth, and we have to observe how here also indeterminate uniformity has been succeeded by determinatemultiformity.In the formation of a solid crust about the earth, thereappeared the first conspicuous geologic differentiation; resulting not only in increased heterogeneity, but in increaseddefiniteness, as the crust gradually solidified. For not onlydid the planet thus acquire a more definite figure, but also amore definite movement; since the solidification of the crustmust have diminished the oblateness of the spheroid, thusgradually reducing the disturbance known as precession.Next with the deposit of water in the hollow places of thiscrust, there came the differentiation between land, sea, andatmosphere; and this differentiation became more marked asvast quantities of carbonic acid, precipitated in this primevalrain, left the atmosphere purer, and purified also the oceanby segregating its contained lime. At the same time thatthis vast condensation of ocean- water from pre- existing steamconstituted a secondary integration attendant upon the earth'sloss of molecular motion, the further thickening of the solidcrust began to entail other more local integrations. As Mr.Spencer points out, while the earth's crust was still very thin,there could be neither deep oceans nor lofty mountains norextensive continents. Small islands, barren of life, washedby shallow lakes, void of animate existence, and covered witha dense atmosphere, loaded with carbonic acid and aqueousVOL. L. D D402 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY [PT. 11 .vapour, must have characterized the surface of our planet atthis primeval epoch. But as the ever thickening crust slowlycollapsed about its contracting contents, mountain ridges ofconsiderable height could be gradually formed, islands couldcohere over wider and wider spaces, and deeper basins wouldpermit the accumulation of large bodies of water. Numerousintegrations of islands into continents, and of lakes intooceans, would thus occur, making the differentiation of landand sea more distinct and definite. The integration of continents and the rise of mountain chains in different directionsmust have enlarged the areas of denudation, and thus renderedpossible the integration of masses of detritus into extensivesedimentary strata. Differences of watershed and riverdrainage thus caused added variety to the resulting geologicformations; and these, crumbling into soil of more or lessrichness, afterwards impressed differences upon vegetation,and thus indirectly upon animal life. Yet again, the thickening of the crust must have added to the definite heterogeneity of the surface by its effect upon volcanic phenomena.While the crust was still thin, the angry waves of liquidmatter imprisoned beneath must have continually burstthrough volcanic vents, suddenly vaporizing large quantitiesof surface-water, and causing phenomena similar to thosenow witnessed upon Saturn and Jupiter. As the crust thickened, these volcanic agencies were more and more restrained:craters became restricted to certain localities where the crustwas less thick than elsewhere, and earthquake waves began torun, as at present, along definite lines. Those well- regulatedearthquake pulses which raise continents and ocean-floors atthe rate of a few inches or feet per century, now began to increase the definite heterogeneity of the surface. To the longrhythms of elevation and subsidence thus produced havebeen due countless differentiations in the directions of oceancurrents and continent-axes, in watershed, in the compositionof sedimentary strata, and in climate. And to all these mayCE. VI. ] THE EVOLUTION OF THE EARTH. 403be added the metamorphosis of sedimentary rocks by volcanicheat, and the seismic shoving up of strata at various angles.All these geologic phenomena are thus seen to be classifiable as differentiations and integrations of the earth'ssuperficial matter, caused by the continuous integration ofthe earth's mass with its attendant dissipation of molecularmotion. We may next note that meteorologic phenomenaare similarly classifiable. Before the solidification of itscrust, our planet must have been comparatively hom*ogeneousin temperature, owing to the circulation which is alwaysmaintained in masses of heated fluid. The surface-portionsmust, however, have been somewhat cooler than the interior,and this difference would be rendered more definite by theformation of the crust, and by the subsequent separation ofthe ocean from the gaseous atmosphere. As the contour ofland and sea became more definite and more permanent,differences in temperature between different parts of thesurface must likewise have become more decided . Nevertheless the chief cause of climatic differentiations—the inclination of the earth's axis -did not begin to produce its mostconspicuous effects until a later period. As long as ourplanet retained a great proportion of its primitive heat, therecould have been little difference between winter and summer,or between the temperature at the poles and at the equator.But when the earth had lost so much heat that its externaltemperature began to depend chiefly upon the supply ofsolar radiance, then there commenced a gradual differentiation of climates. There began to be a marked differencebetween summer and winter, and between arctic, temperate,and tropical zones. And now also the distribution of landand sea began to produce climatic effects, owing to the factthat solar radiance is both absorbed and given out morerapidly by land than by water. Areas of the earth's surfacewhere sea predominated began now to be distinguished fromareas where land predominated, by their more equablenDD 2104 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. ILtemperature. And because the amount of solar radianceretained depends upon the density of the atmosphere, thereensued differences of climate between mountains and valleys,between table- lands and low-lying plains. Here too theincreased heterogeneity was attended by increased definiteness and permanence of climatic relations. For the thermalvariations, depending on the earth's rhythmic change ofposition with reference to the sun, set up atmosphericcurrents in definite directions and of tolerably regularrecurrence. Sundry of these currents, swayed by the earth'srotatory momentum, became specialized as trade-winds andmonsoons; while in the ocean there went on a similarspecialization, as exemplified in the constant course of theGulf Stream and other marine currents. The definiteness ofthe total result, as well as its heterogeneity, may be wellillustrated by any map of isothermal lines; bearing in mind,as we must, that during long periods these lines shift onlywithin narrow limits.Among the various portions of our earth's surface, moreover, evolution has brought about a climatic interdependence.The dependence of terrestrial temperature upon the supplyand distribution of solar radiance, has entailed a furtherdependence of local temperatures upon one another. Forexample the warm temperature of southern Europe is largelydependent on the hot dry winds which blow from Sahara,and which powerfully assist in melting the glaciers of theAlps. If Sahara were to be submerged-as indeed it hasbeen at a recent epoch-these dry winds would be replacedby cooler winds charged with vapour, which would condenseinto snow on the Alps, and thus enlarge the glaciers alreadyformed there, instead of melting them away. Thus theclimate would be changed throughout Europe, and thedirection of winds would be altered over a still larger areaof the globe. If Lapland and the isthmus of Panama wereto subside at the same time, so that icebergs could floatCH. V.] THE EVOLUTION OF THE EARTH. 405through the Baltic to the coast of Prussia, while the GulfStream would be diverted into the Pacific Ocean, the climateof Europe might become glacial. Yet either the submergenceof Greenland, or the elevation of the East Indian Archipelago into a continuous continent, would perhaps suffice toneutralize all these agencies, and restore the genial warmth.In such climatic relations we see vividly illustrated thatkind of integration which brings the condition of each partof an aggregate into dependence upon the condition of allthe other parts.It is now sufficiently proved that the development of theearth, like the development of the planetary system to whichit belongs, has been primarily an integration of matter anddissipation of motion, and secondarily a change from indefinite hom*ogeneity with relative isolation of parts todefinite heterogeneity with relative interdependence amongparts. But our survey of telluric evolution is as yet farfrom complete. While enough has been said concerning theredistributions of matter which have gone on over the faceof the globe, nothing has been said concerning the far morewonderful and interesting redistributions of the molecularmotion which the earth is continually receiving from thesun. Here, as already briefly hinted, we have the chiefsource of terrestrial heterogeneity. In the chapter on theLaw of Evolution, it was observed, as a general truth, thathom*ogeneous forces incident upon a heterogeneous aggregateundergo differentiation and integration. We shall now findthis general truth beautifully exemplified in the history ofthe surface of our planet. At a remote era in that history,the differentiation and integration of solar radiance began.gradually to constitute the most important part of the complex process of terrestrial evolution. We have now to showhow this has been done; and we shall find it desirable tointroduce the subject with an inquiry into the Sources ofTerrestrial Energy.CHAPTER VII.THE SOURCES OF TERRESTRIAL ENERGYAt the outset we may state broadly that all terrestrial energyis due either to direct gravitative force, or to the arrest of thecentripetal motion produced by gravitative force, either inthe earth or in the sun. In other words, the entire series ofterrestrial phenomena is the complex product of the earth'sinternal heat, combined with solar radiance, and with directgravitative force exercised by the moon and other planets.Beginning with the smallest and least conspicuous of thesesources of energy, a mere allusion will suffice for the effectswrought upon the earth by its companion planets throughthe medium of their tidal action upon the sun. That thephenomena of the aurora borealis, as well as the periodicvariations in the position of the magnetic needle, are dependent upon the solar spots, is now a well-established doctrine;and it seems not unlikely that we shall ere long succeed intracing out other dependences of this sort,-as is shown, forexample, in Mr. Meldrum's investigation of the relationsbetween sun-spots and rainfall. And whatever may be thefinal explanation of the phenomena of sun- spots, there can belittle doubt that the periodicity of these phenomena isconditioned by the positions of the various planets, andespecially of the giants Jupiter and Saturn. But theseCH. VII. ] SOURCES OF TERRESTRIAL ENERGY. 407inter-relations, though they may be much more importantthan is as yet suspected, need not now detain us. Suchfurther effects as may be wrought upon the earth by polarizedlight sent from the other planets, and by radiance from remote stellar systems, may be left out of the account. Norneed we do more than allude to the moon's gravitative forceas the chief cause of the oceanic tides, with their resultantgeologic phenomena. Passing over all these circ*mstances,we come to the still unexpended energy represented by theearth's internal heat, concerning which we need only say thatit is the cause of the geologic phenomena classed as igneous.Volcanic eruptions, earthquake shocks, elevations and subsidences of continents and ocean-floors, metamorphoses ofsedimentary rocks, boiling springs, fractures of strata, andformations of metallic veins, are the various manifestations ofthis form of terrestrial energy.But all these grand phenomena must be regarded as immeasurably inferior in variety and importance to those whichare due to the transformation of solar radiance. These mustbe described with somewhat more of detail. First, with theexception of the changes wrought by the tides, all the geologic phenomena classed as aqueous are manifestations oftransformed solar energy. Pulses of molecular motion proceeding from the sun are stored as reserved energy in massesof aqueous vapour raised from the sea. This energy is againpartly given out as the vapour is condensed into rain andalls to the ground. The portion which remains is expendedin the transfer of the fallen water through the soil, till itcollects in rivulets, brooks, and rivers, and gradually descendsto the ocean whence solar radiance raised it, bearing alongwith it divers solid particles which go to form sedimentarystrata. The wind which blew these clouds into the colderregions where they consolidated into rain- drops, was set inmotion by solar energy, -since all winds are caused by theunequal heating of different parts of the earth's surface408 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [FT. II.Molar motion stored up in these vast masses of moving air isgiven out not only in the driving of clouds, but also in theraising of waves on rivers and oceans; and it is still furtherexpended in the wearing away of shores and indentation ofcoast-lines which these waves effect. All the energy thusmanifested by rains and rivers, winds and waves, is transformed solar radiance. And in like manner, if asked whencecame the molar motion exhibited in the transfer of vastmasses of sea-water along definite lines, as in the Gulf Streamand other marine currents, we may safely answer-whatever view we adopt as to the details of these movements--that it was originally due to the heat which so rarefied thiswater as to make it yield to the pressure of adjacent colderand denser water. And this heat came to the earth in thesolar rays. Thus all movements of gaseous, liquid, and solidmatter upon the earth's surface, except volcanic and tidalmovements, are simply transformations of the heat which isgenerated by the progressive integration of the sun's mass.But this is not the end of the matter. Our last sentenceimplicitly included the phenomena of life among those dueto solar radiance, since the phenomena of life, whateverelse they may be, are certainly included among the complexmovements of gaseous, liquid, and solid matters, which occurupon the earth's surface. Let us note some of the variousways in which molecular motion, sent from the sun, ismetamorphosed into vital energy.The seed of a plant, buried in the damp earth, grows bythe integration of adjacent nutritive materials, but the energywhich effects this union consists in the solar undulations bywhich the soil is warmed. Diminish, to a certain extent,the daily supply of radiance, as in the long arctic and theshort temperate winters, and the seed will refuse to grow.Though nutritive material may be at hand in abundance,there is no molecular motion which the seed can absorb,When the seed grows and shoots up its delicate green stalk,CH. VII.J SOURCES OF TERRESTRIAL ENERGY. 409tipped with a pair of leaflets, these leaflets begin to absorband transform those more rapid waves of the sunbeam , knownas light and actinism. That the plant may continue to grow,by assimilating carbon and hydrogen, it is necessary for theleaf- molecules to decompose the carbonic acid of the atmosphere, and for the molecules of the rootlets to decompose thewater which trickles through the ground. But before thiscan be done, the molecules of leaf and rootlet must acquiremotor energy, —and this is supplied either directly or indirectly by the sunbeam. The slower undulations, penetrating the soil, set in motion the atoms ofthe rootlet, andenable them to shake hydrogen-atoms out of equilibriumwith the oxygen- atoms which cluster about them in the compound molecules of the water. The swifter undulations arearrested by the leaves, where they communicate their motorenergy to the atoms of chlorophyll, and thus enable them todislodge adjacent atoms of carbon from the carbonic acid inwhich they are suspended. And these chemical motions,going on at the upper and lower extremities of the plant,disturb the equilibrium of its liquid parts, and thus inaugurate a series of rhythmical molar motions, exemplified in thealternately ascending and descending currents of sap. Andlastly these molar motions, perpetually replenished from thesame external sources, are perpetually expended in themolecular integration of vegetable cells and fibres. Thus allthe energy stored up in the plant, both that displayed in thechemical activities of leaves and rootlets, and that which isdisplayeu in circulation and growth, is made up of transformed sunbeams. The stately trunk, the gnarled roots,he spreading branches, the rustling leaves, the delicatelytinted blossoms, and the tender fruit, are all -as Moleschottno less truly than poetically calls them-the air- wovenchildren of light.In remote geologic ages untold millions of these solarbeams were occupied in separating vast quantities of carbon410 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. ILfrom the dense atmosphere, and incorporating it in the tissuesof innumerable forests. Charred by slow heat, and graduallypetrified, this woody tissue became transformed into coal,which now, dug up from its low- lying beds and burned instoves and furnaces, is compelled to give up the radiancewhich it long ago purloined from the sun.When placedunder the engine- boiler, these transformed sunbeams areagain metamorphosed into molar motions of expandingvapour, which cause the rhythmic rise and fall of the piston,and drive the running-gear of the machine-shop or propelthe railway-train. In such wise it may be shown that thevarious agencies which man makes subservient to industrialpurposes, are nothing but variously differentiated sunbeams.The windmill is driven by atmospheric currents which thesun set in motion. The water-wheel is kept whirling bystreams raised by the sun to the heights from which theyare rushing down. And the steam- engine derives its energyfrom modern or from ancient sunbeams, according as its firesare fed by wood or by coal.But the solar energy stored up by vegetables is given outnot only in such mechanical processes, but also in the vitalactivities of the human beings whose needs such processessupply. The absolute dependence of animal upon vegetallife is illustrated in the familiar fact that animals cannotdirectly assimilate inorganic compounds. The inorganicwater which we drink is necessary to the maintenance oflife; but it percolates untransformed through the tissues andblood-vessels, and it quits the organism in the same chemical condition in which it entered it. And although minutequantities of the salt which we daily eat, and of the carbonates and iodides of iron which we sometimes take astonics, may perhaps undergo transformation in the tissuesit is none the less true that the substance of our tissues canonly be repaired by means of the complex albuminous molecules which solar energy originally built up into the tissues ofCH. VII. ] SOURCES OF TERRESTRIAL ENERGY. 411vegetables. Herbivorous animals in each of the great classes,feed directly upon vegetable fibre, and so rearrange its molecules that the resultant tissues are more highly nitrogenousthan those from which they were formed. More active carnivorous animals derive from the enormous chemism latentin these nitrogenous fabrics the vital energy displayed intheir rapid bounds and in their formidable grip. But theenergies which imprisoned this tremendous chemical force inthe complex molecules which the animal assimilates, were atfirst supplied by sunbeams. Metamorphosed originally intothe static energy of vegetable tissue, this sun-derived poweris again metamorphosed into the dynamic energy which maintains the growth of the animal organism. And from thesame primeval source comes the surplus energy, which afterthe demands of growth or repair have been satisfied, is expended in running, jumping, flying, swimming, or climbing,as well as in fighting with enemies and in seizing and devouring prey.Besides these indirect and doubly- indirect methods in whichanimals differentiate solar energy, there are ways in whichthe metamorphosis is directly effected. To cite Dr. Carpenter's conclusions, as epitomized by Mr. Spencer:—“ Thetransformation of the unorganized contents of an egg intothe organized chick, is altogether a question of heat: withhold heat and the process does not commence; supply heatand it goes on while the temperature is maintained, butceases when the egg is allowed to cool. . . . In the metamorphoses of insects we may discern parallel facts. Experiments show not only that the hatching of their eggs is determined by temperature, but also that the evolution of thepupa into the imago is similarly determined; and may be immensely accelerated or retarded according as heat is artificiallysupplied or withheld." The phenomena thus briefly citedare to be classed under the general head of organic stimulus;and in a wide sense, one might almost say that all stimulus·412 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. IL1is the absorption of vital energy which was originally solar.Sunlight stimulates animals indirectly, as in the case ofactinia which are made more vivacious when neighbouringsea-weed, smitten by sunbeams, pours oxygen into the waterin which they move; and also in the case of hard-workedmen who gain vigour from the judicious use of vegetablenarcotics. The waves of motor energy which the humanorganism absorbs in whiffs of tobacco- smoke, are but aseries of pulsations of transformed sunlight. But animalsare also directly stimulated by the solar rays, as in the casesof insects which begin to fly and crawl in early summer, andof hybernating mammals which emerge from their retreats atthe approach of warm weather. By its stimulating effect onthe retina, and thence on the medulla oblongata, sunlightquickens the breathing and circulation in higher animals, andthus facilitates the repair of tissue. In the night we exhaleless carbonic acid than in the daytime. Again the stuntedgrowth and pale sickly faces of men and women who livein coal- mines, or in narrow streets and dark cellars, aresymptoms traceable to anæmia, or to a deficiency of redglobules in the blood . Whence it seems not improbable thatthe formation of red globules, like the formation of sap inplants, may be in some way directly assisted by solar undulations.Mysteriously allied with the vital phenomena of nutrition,innervation, and muscular action, are the psychical phenomena of feeling and thought. Though ( as previously hintedand as I shall hereafter endeavour to prove) the gulf betweenthe phenomena of consciousness and all other phenomena isan impassable gulf, which no future extension of scientific' As the poet-philosopher Redi says of wine:-"Si bel sangue è un raggio accesoDi quel Sol che in ciel vedete;E rimase avvinto e preso Di più grappoli alla rete. "Bacco in Toscana; Opere, tom. i påJH. VII. ] SOURCES OF TERRESTRIAL ENERGY. 413knowledge is likely to bridge over; it is nevertheless unquestionable both that every change in consciousness is conditioned by a chemical change in ganglionic tissue, and alsothat there is a discernible quantitative correspondence between the two parallel changes. Let us glance for a momentat certain facts which will serve to illustrate and justifythese propositions.Those changes of consciousness which are variously classified as thoughts, feelings, sensations, and emotions, cannotfor a moment go on save in the presence of certain assignable physical conditions.The first of these conditions is complete continuity ofmolecular cohesion among the parts of nerve- tissue. Anerve which is cut does not transmit sensori-motor impulses; and even where the continuity of molecular equilibrium is disturbed, without overcoming cohesion, as in atied nerve, there is no transmission. It is in the same waythat pressure on the cerebrum instantly arrests consciousnesswhen a piece of the skull is driven in by a blow, and slowlyarrests it when coma is produced by congestion of thecerebral arteries. Now the need for complete continuity ofmolecular equilibrium, both in the white and in the greytissue, is a fact of no meaning unless a molecular rearrangement is an indispensable accompaniment of each change inconsciousness.Secondly, the presence of a certain amount of nutritivematerial in the cerebral blood-vessels is essential to everychange in consciousness; and upon the quantity of materialpresent depends, within certain limits, the rapidity of thechanges. While rapid loss of blood causes fainting, or totalstoppage of conscious changes, it is also true that lowerednutrition, implying deficiency of blood, retards the rate andinterferes with the complication of mental processes. In astate of extreme anæmia not only does thinking go onslowly, but the manifold compounding and recompounding414 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.[PT. ILof conscious changes, which is implied in elaborate quantitative reasoning, cannot go on at all. Now the need for theconstant presence of nutritive material is a meaningless factunless each change in consciousness is dependent upon amolecular transfer between the nutritive material and thenerve-substance.Thirdly, the maintenance of conscious changes requiresthe presence of certain particular materials in the blood,and the absence, in any save the smallest proportions, ofcertain other materials; while there are yet other materialsupon the presence of which the rate and complication ofconscious changes largely depend. The familiar fact thatconsciousness cannot for an instant continue unless oxygenis in contact with the grey tissue of the cerebrum, is alonesufficient to prove that no conscious change is possible, saveas the accompaniment of a chemical change. On the otherhand, the presence of carbonic acid or of urea in considerable quantities retards the rate and prevents the elaborationof thinking; and in still larger quantities it puts an end toconsciousness. And in similar wise the effects of alcohol,opium, and hemp, as well as of that Siberian fungus whoseinhaled vapour makes a straw in the pathway look too largeto be jumped over, show us most vividly how immediate isthe dependence of complex mental operations upon chemicalchanges.Fourthly, the fact that the vigour and complexity ofmental manifestations bear a marked ratio to the weightof the brain, to the amount of phosphorus contained in itstissue, and to the number and intricacy of the fine sinuouscreases in the grey surface of the hemispheres, shows plainlythat changes in consciousness are conditioned both by theamount and by the arrangement of nerve-material.Fifthly, we may see a like significance in the facts thatthe amount of alkaline phosphates excreted by the kidneysvaries with the amount of mental exertion; and that emo

1. H, VII.) SOURCES OF TERRESTRIAL ENERGY. 415

tional excitement so alters the composition of the bloodthat infants have been poisoned by milk secreted by theirfrightened or angry mothers. And lastly may be cited thebeautiful experiments of Prof. Lombard, in which the heatevolved by the cerebrum during the act of thinking was notonly detected but measured, and found to vary according tothe amount of mental activity going on.These, though the most conspicuous, are but a few amongthe facts which force upon the physiologist the conclusionthat there is no such thing as a change in consciousnesswhich has not for its correlative a chemical change innervous tissue. Hence we may the better understand thesignificance of familiar facts which point to a quantitativecorrelation between certain states of consciousness and theoutward phenomena which give rise to them. A brightlight, as measured by the photometer, produces a morevivid state of consciousness than a dim light. Substanceswhich the thermometer declares to be hot are, under normalcirc*mstances, mentally recognized as being hot. The consciousness of a sound varies in vividness with the violenceof the concussions to which the sound is due. And bodieswhich are heavy in the balance excite in us correlativesensations of strain when we attempt to move them. Conversely the molar motions by which our states of feelingare revealed externally, have an energy proportional to theintensity of the feeling; witness the undulations indicativeof pain, which, beginning with a slight twitching of thefacial muscles, may end in spasmodic convulsions of thewhole body. And of like import is the fact that gentleemotions, like slight electric and narcotic stimuli, agreeablyquicken the heart's contractions; while violent emotions,suddenly awakened, may stop its beating as effectually as astroke of lightning or a dose of concentrated prussic acid.The bearings of such facts as these upon our theories ofmental phenomena will be duly considered in future chapters.416 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. IIAt present we have only to regard them as furnishing conclusive evidence that the phenomena which are subjectivelyknown as changes in consciousness, are objectively correlated with molecular motions of nerve- matter which areseen, in an ultimate analysis, to be highly differentiatedforms of solar radiance. Waves of this radiance, speedingearthward from the sun at the rate of more than five hundredtrillions per second, impart their motor energy to the atomswhich vibrate in unison in the compound molecules of thegrowing grass. Cattle, browsing on this grass, and integrating portions of it with their tissues, rearrange its molecules in more complex clusters, in which the tremendouschemical energy of heat- saturated nitrogen is held in equilibrium by the aid of these metamorphosed sunbeams. Man,assimilating the nitrogenous tissues of the cow, builds upthese clusters of molecules, with their stores of sun-givenand sun-restrained energy, into the wondrously complexelements of white and grey nerve- tissue, which incessantlyliberating energy in decomposition, mysteriously enablehim to trace and describe a portion of the astonishingmetamorphosis.When one takes a country ramble on a pleasant summer'sday, one may fitly ponder upon the wondrous significance ofthis law of the transformation of energy. It is wondrous toreflect that all the energy stored up in the timbers of thefences and farmhouses which we pass, as well as in the grindstone and the axe lying beside it, and in the iron axles andheavy tires of the cart which stands tipped by the roadside;all the energy from moment to moment given out by theroaring cascade and the busy wheel that rumbles at its foot.by the undulating stalks of corn in the field and the swayingbranches in the forest beyond, by the birds that sing in thetree-tops and the butterflies to which they anon give chaseby the cow'standing in the brook and the water which bathesher lazy feet, by the sportsmen who pass shouting in theCH. VII. ] SOURCES OF TERRESTRIAL ENERGY. 417distance as well as by their dogs and guns; that all thismultiform energy is nothing but metamorphosed solar radiance, and that all these various objects, giving life and cheerfulness to the landscape, have been built up into theircognizable forms by the agency of sunbeams such as those bywhich the scene is now rendered visible. We may welldeclare, with Prof. Tyndall, that the grandest conceptions ofDante and Milton are dwarfed in comparison with the truthswhich science discloses. But it seems to me that we may gofarther than this, and say that we have here reached something deeper than poetry. In the sense of illimitable vastness with which we are oppressed and saddened as we striveto follow out in thought the eternal metamorphosis, we mayrecognize the modern phase of the feeling which led theancient to fall upon his knees, and adore-after his owncrude, symbolic fashion-the invisible Power whereof theinfinite web of phenomena is but the visible garment.CHAPTER VIILTHE BEGINNINGS OF LIFE.AMID the chaos of ideas concerning vital phenomena whichprevailed until quite recent times, it was hardly strange thatorganisms, even of a high order of complexity, should havebeen supposed to be now and then directly evolved from lifeless matter, under favourable circ*mstances. Every readerof ancient literature will remember how Aristaus succeededin replacing his lost swarm of bees; and the sanction thusaccorded by so erudite a poet as Virgil to the popular beliefin the generation of insects from putrescent meat, is goodevidence that the impossibility of such an occurrence hadnot yet been suspected, or at least had never been dulyappreciated. Still more important is the testimony ofLucretius-who, as Prof. Huxley well says, " had drunkdeeper of the scientific spirit than any other poet of ancientor modern times except Goethe "-when he alludes to theprimordial generation of plants and animals by the universalmother Earth. It is, however, straining words somewhatbeyond their usual meanings to call such speculations" scientific." They were the product of an almost totalabsence of such knowledge as is now called scientific. Itwas possible to infer that such highly organized creatures ashymenopterous insects, suddenly appearing in putrescentmeat, were spontaneously generated there, only because scCH. VIIL ]THE BEGINNINGS OF LIFE. 419little was definitely known about the relations of organismsto one another and to the inorganic world. Accordinglywith the very beginnings of modern biological knowledge,and with the somewhat more cautious and systematic employment of induction characteristic of the seventeenthcentury, the old belief in spontaneous generation was calledin question. By a series of very simple but apt experiments,in which pieces of decaying meat were protected frommaggots by a gauze covering, the illustrious Redi proved, tothe satisfaction of everyone, that the maggots are not produced from the substance of the meat, but from eggs deposited therein by flies. So conclusive were these experiments that the belief in spontaneous generation, which hadhitherto rested chiefly upon phenomena of this sort, wasalmost universally abandoned, and the doctrine that everyliving thing comes from some living thing-omne vivum exvivo-received that general acceptance which it was destinedto retain down to the present time. With the progress ofbiological knowledge, as the complex structures and regularmodes of growth of the lower animals began to be betterunderstood, and as the microscope began to disclose theexistence of countless forms of life infinitesimal in size butcomplicated in organization, many of which were proved tobe propagated either by fission or by some kind of germination, the doctrine omne vivum ex vivo became more and moreimplicitly regarded as a prime article of faith, and the hypothesis of spontaneous generation was not merely scouted asabsurd, but neglected as unworthy of notice.Philosophical theories conspired with observation and experiment to bring about this result. The doctrine omnevivum ex vivo consorted well with the metaphysical hypothesis of an archæus or " vital principle," by means of whichStahl and Paracelsus sought to explain the dynamic phenomena manifested by living organisms. In those days whenit was the fashion to explain every mysterious group ofEE 2420 [PT. 11. COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.99phenomena by imagining some entity behind it, the activitiesdisplayed by living bodies were thought to be explainedwhen they were called the workings of a " vital principle 'inherent in the living body, but distinct from it and surviving unchanged amid its manifold alterations. If a stonefalls to the ground, that is a manifestation of gravitativeforce; but if a stream of blood come rushing through acapillary tube and certain compound molecules of albuminousmatter are taken from it and retained by the adjacent tissue,then, according to the vitalistic theory, the " vital principleis at work. During life this " principle " continues to work;but at death it leaves the organism, which is then given upto the mercy of physical forces. Such was the theory of lifewhich was held by many physiologists even at a time withinthe recollection of persons now living; and it doubtless stillsurvives in minds uninstructed in modern science. So longas this doctrine held undisputed sway, the belief that allife proceeds from life was not likely to be seriously impugned. For whence, save by derivation from some other"principle " like unto itself, could this mysterious " vitalprinciple " arise? Besides all this, the Doctrine of Evolutionhad not yet been originated; all things were supposed tohave been created at once in their present condition; and, asno need was felt of explaining scientifically the origin ofthe highest organisms, so there was no disposition to inquireinto the origin of those lowest in the scale. A series ofseparate creative acts was supposed to account for the whole.Strengthened by these metaphysical conceptions, the doctrine omne vivum ex vivo remained in possession of the field fortwo centuries Phenomena apparently at variance with itsuch as the occasional discovery of animalcules in closedvessels were disposed of by the hypothesis, devised bySpallanzani, that the atmosphere is full of invisible germswhich can penetrate through the smallest crevices. Thishypothesis is currently known as " panspermatism, " or theCH. VIII. ] THE BEGINNINGS OF LIFE. 421" theory of omnipresent germs," or (less cumbrously) as the"germ-theory."Now, as concerns the germ-theory, to which appeal is unhesitatingly made whenever the question of spontaneousgeneration is discussed, it must be admitted to be extremelyplausible, yet we must not forget that it has never beenactually demonstrated: it has not been proved that thegerm-theory can do all that its advocates require it to do.It may well be the case that the air is everywhere full ofgerms, too small to be seen, which are capable of givingrise to all the organisms of which there is any question inthe controversy about spontaneous generation: neverthelessthis has not been rigorously demonstrated. The beautifulresearches of Prof. Tyndall have indeed proved that the atmosphere is everywhere filled with solid particles, in the absenceof which it would not be luminous; and it is fair to supposethat among these particles there are always to be found somewhich are the germs of monads and bacteria. Still this canhardly be taken for granted; and Dr. Bastian is right inreminding us that it is reasoning in a circle to assume thepresence of germs that cannot be detected, merely becausethere is no other way of accounting for the presence ofmonads and bacteria in accordance with the doctrine of Redi.For in all discussions concerning spontaneous generationit should be borne in mind that the doctrine omne vivum exvivo is itself on trial for its life, and cannot be summonedto the witness-box. The very point to be ascertained iswhether this doctrine, which is admitted to hold good inthe case of all save the lowest forms of life, holds good alsoif these. The doctrine rests entirely upon induction; andwhile, in many cases, it is legitimate to infer a universalproposition from a limited induction of instances, it is notlegitimate to do so in the present case. For the fact thatinnumerable highly specialized types of animal and vegetallife are kept up solely by generation ex vivo, can in nowise422 [PT. IL COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.prove that other living things, which are nearly or quitedestitute of specialization, may not have their ranks recruitedby a fresh evolution from not-living materials. Along withthe absence of specialized structure, it may turn out thatthere is an absence of other characteristics once supposed tobe common to all living things.This will be more clearly understood as we proceed toconsider the change which the last half- century has wroughtin the theories of life with which Redi's doctrine has hithertobeen implicated. The hypothesis of a “ vital principle " isnow as completely discarded as the hypothesis of phlogistonin chemistry, or as the Ptolemaic theory in astronomy: nobiologist with a reputation to lose would for a moment thinkof defending it. The great discoveries concerning the sourcesof terrestrial energy, illustrated in the foregoing chapter, havemade it henceforth impossible for us to regard the dynamicphenomena manifested by living bodies otherwise than asresulting from the manifold compounding of the molecularforces with which their ultimate chemical constituents areendowed. Henceforth the difference between a living and anot-living body is seen to be a difference of degree, not ofkind, —a difference dependent solely on the far greater molecular complexity of the former. As water has properties thatbelong not to the gases which compose it, so protoplasm hasproperties that do not belong to the inferior compounds ofwhich it is made up. The crystal of quartz has a shapewhich is the resultant of the mutual attractions and repulsionsof its molecules; and the dog has a shape which is ultimatelyto be explained in the same way, save that in this case the process has been immeasurably more complex and indirect. Such,in brief, is the theory by which the vitalistic doctrine ofStahl has been replaced. Instead of a difference in kindbetween life and not-life, we get only a difference of degree ,so that it again becomes credible that, under favouring cir·c*mstances, not-life may become life.CH, VIII ]THE BEGINNINGS OF LIFE. 423In the next place the overthrow of the dogma of fixityof species, and the consequent general displacement of theDoctrine of Creation by the Doctrine of Evolution, havemade the scientific world familiar with the conception of thedevelopment of the more specialized forms of life from lessspecialized forms; and thusthe development of the leastspecialized forms of life from the most complex forms ofnot-life ceases to seem absurd, and even acquires a sort of probability. And finally, the researches of geologists, showingthat our earth's surface was once " melted with fervent heat,"and confirming the theory of the nebular origin of our planet,have rendered it indisputable that there must once have beena time when there was no life upon the earth; so that certainly at some time or other, though doubtless not by asingle step but by a number of steps, the transition fromnot- life to life must have been made. Hence the doctrineomne vivum ex vivo, as now held, means neither more nor lessthan that every assemblage of organic phenomena must havehad as its immediate antecedent some other assemblage ofphenomena capable of giving rise to it: in other words, thedoctrine has become little more than a specialized corollaryfrom the persistence of force. In the case of all save thelowest organisms, the only antecedent phenomenon capable ofgiving rise to the organism in question has been inductivelyproved to be some other organism. But in the case of thelowest organisms it is theoretically possible that the requisiteantecedent may in some instances be an assemblage of unorganized materials; and it remains for induction to showvhether this possibility is ever actually realized or not,under existing terrestrial conditions.Such being the modification which modern discoverieshave imposed upon the doctrine omne vivum ex vivo, it needhardly be added that the hypothesis of spontaneous generation has undergone a no less important change. The theorythat an organism which is to any extent specialized in struc424 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. (PT. ILture can arise directly from a union of unorganized elementsis ruled out of court. Such a conception, though it mightbe harmonized with the hypothesis of special creations, isutterly condemned by the Doctrine of Evolution. So longas it was possible to believe that enormously complex birdsand mammals were somehow conjured into existence, likeAladdin's palace, in a single night, by a kind of enchantmentwhich philosophers sought to dignify by calling it " creativefiat," it might well have seemed possible for animalcules tobe spontaneously generated in air-tight flasks, or even formaggots to arise de novo in decaying meat. Such a viewmight have been logically defensible, though it was not theone which actually prevailed. But now, in face of the provedfact that thousands of years are required to effect any considerable modification in the specific structures of plants andanimals, it has become impossible to admit that such specificstructures can have been acquired in a moment, or otherwisethan by the slow accumulation of minute peculiarities.Hence " spontaneous generation can be theoretically admitted only in the case of living things whose grade of composition is so low that their mode of formation from a liquidsolution may be regarded as strictly analogous to that ofcrystals. And when the case is thus stated it becomesobvious that the phrase " spontaneous generation ” is antiquated, inaccurate, and misleading. It describes well enoughthe crude hypothesis that insects might be generated inputrefying substances without any assignable cause; but it isnot applicable to the hypothesis that specks of living protoplasm may be, as it were, precipitated from a solution containing the not-living ingredients of protoplasm. If such anorigination of life can be proved, none will maintain that itis " spontaneous, " since all will regard as the assignable causethe chemical affinity exerted between the enormously complex molecules which go to make up the protoplasın. Noone speaks of " spontaneous crystallization "; and the ideas""CH. VIIL ] THE BEGINNINGS OF LIFE 425suggested by the use of the word " spontaneous " are suchas to detract seriously from its availableness as a scientificterm. We need a phrase which shall simply describe afact, without any admixture of hypothesis; and we maycordially recommend, as such a phrase, Dr. Bastian's archebiosis, which, without violence to etymology, may be said tomean “ life in its beginning," or, more freely, " beginningof life."With these preliminaries, the precise question now at issuebetween the believers in " spontaneous generation " and theiropponents may be stated as follows:-Can archebiosis bemade to occur at the present day by artificial means? Or, tobe still more accurate, Has archebiosis actually been made tooccur at the present day by artificial means? Is it possiblefor the experimenter, without any assistance from life alreadyexisting, to obtain living things, merely by bringing togetherthe chemical constituents of protoplasm, under suitable physical conditions? Or, granting the possibility, can it beproved that living things have actually been thus obtained?To this twofold question there are returned diverse answers.On the one hand, Dr. Bastian maintains that himself andother experimenters have actually seen archebiosis artificiallybrought about. On the other hand, it is likely to be maintained by most competent critics that, while there may be nogood reason for denying the possibility of such a triumph ofexperiment, we have not yet sufficient proof that it has beenreally achieved.It should not be forgotten that the decision of the moregeneral question of the origin of life on the earth's surfacedoes not depend upon the way in which this special controversy is decided. While it is true that the success of experiments like those of Dr. Bastian would furnish conclusiveinductive proof of archebiosis, it is also true that their complete failure can in no wise be cited in evidence against thedoctrine. On the one hand, the artificial production of living426 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. ILthings, by giving us ocular testimony to the beginnings oflife, would no doubt enlighten us considerably as to thephysical and chemical conditions under which life originates ,and it is, therefore, highly desirable that experimentersshould be able to construct living protoplasm in the laboratory, just as it was desirable, a few years ago, that chemistsshould be able to produce such organic compounds as alcohol,sugar, and urea,-substances which until lately were thoughtto be, for some mysterious reason, inaccessible to human art,but which are now constructed with ease. But on the otherhand, even the demonstrated impossibility of producingliving things artificially would not weigh a grain in the scaleagainst the doctrine that archebiosis may now occur, andmust at some time have occurred, in the great laboratory ofnature. That an evolution of organic existence from inorganic existence must at some time have taken place, isrendered certain by the fact that there was once a time whenno life existed upon the earth's surface. That such evolutionmay even now regularly take place, among such living things,for instance, as the Bathybius of Haeckel-a sort of albuminous jelly growing in irregular patches on the sea- bottom-is perhaps not impossible. But that such evolution hasbeen known to take place in air-tight flasks containing decoctions of hay, and has moreover resulted in the formationof organisms like vibrios and fungus- spores, is quite anotherproposition, which the assertor of archebiosis is in no waybound to maintain, and with the fate of which he need notfeel himself vitally concerned.The question of " spontaneous generation," then, is but apart, and not the most essential part, of the question as tothe origin of life; and we need not be surprised at findingamong Dr. Bastian's opponents such an avowed evolutionistas Prof. Huxley. Practically, moreover, the question at issuebetween the advocates of " spontaneous generation ” and theirAntagonists is even narrower than appears from the aboveCH. VIIL] THE BEGINNINGS OF LIFE. 427statement of it. As practically conducted, the dispute isconfined to the question whether certain particular low formsof life-known as vibrios, bacteria, torule, and monadswhich appear in putrescence or in fermentation, are producedby archebiosis, or are propagated from germs conveyed in theatinosphere.If Dr. Bastian's position with reference to this question isdestined to become substantiated, his work may perhapsmark an epoch in biology hardly less important than thatwhich was inaugurated by Mr. Darwin's " Origin of Species."Unfortunately, the kind of proof which is needed for Dr.Bastian's main thesis is much more difficult, both to obtainand to estimate properly, than the kind of proof by whichthe theory of natural selection has been substantiated. Inthe latter case what was needed was some principle ofinterpretation which should account for the facts of theclassification, embryology, morphology, and distribution ofplants and animals, without appealing to any other agenciesthan such as can be proved to be actually in operation; andit is because the theory of natural selection furnishes sucha principle of interpretation that it has met with such readyacceptance from the scientific world. On the other hand,the fate of the theory of archebiosis, in the shape in whichit is held by Dr. Bastian, depends upon the issue of a seriesof experiments of extraordinary delicacy and difficulty,-experiments which are of value only when performed byscientific experts of consummate training, and which thesoundest critic of inductive methods must find it perilous tointerpret with confidence, unless he has had something ofthe training of an expert himself. For however easy it mayseem to the uninitiated to shut up an organizable solution soecurely that organic germs from the atmosphere cannot evenbe imagined capable of gaining access to it, this is really oneof the most arduous tasks which an experimenter has everI am here anticipating the argument of the two following chapters.428 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. ILhad set before him . Yet to such rigour of exclusion is theinquirer forced who aims at settling the question by thedirect application of the Method of Difference. And thusthe question at issue is reduced to that unpromising state inwhich both parties to the dispute are called upon to perform the apparently hopeless task of proving a negative.When living things appear in the isolated solution, theadherents of the germ-theory are always able to point outsome imaginable way in which germs might have got in. Onthe other hand, when the panspermatists adduce instances inwhich no living things have been found, the believers inarchebiosis are able to maintain that the failure was due, notto the complete exclusion of germs from without, but to theexclusion of some other physical condition essential to theevolution of living matter. And from this closed circle ofrebutting arguments there seem at present to be no meansof egress.But in so far as the interpretation of Dr. Bastian's experiments is intended to throw light upon the beginnings of lifeon the earth, there is a manifest anomaly in the use of suchliquid menstrua as the infusions of hay, turnip, beef, or urine,which Dr. Bastian ordinarily employs. Whatever archebiosismay occur in such media can hardly be like the process bywhich living things first came into existence; since the existence of the beef or turnip implies the previous existenceof organisms high in the scale. The positive detection ofarchebiosis in these and similar menstrua will, of course,have an interest of its own; but, as Mr. Spencer well says,"a tenable hypothesis respecting the origin of organic lifemust be reached by some other clew than that furnished byexperiments on decoction of hay and extract of beef. " Tomeet this objection Dr. Bastian has in some experiments usedonly inorganic substances, like phosphate of soda, and theɔxalate, tartrate, or carbonate of ammonia, in which theelements essential to the formation of protoplasm are presentCH. VIII.] THE BEGINNINGS OF LIFE. 429Yet in such menstrua as these he believes that he has foundeven fungus-spores " spontaneously " generated.The contrast here vividly brought before us draws attentionto what would seem to be one of the weakest points in Dr.Bastian's theory. It is a long way from tartrate of ammoniaand phosphate of soda to the spores of a fungus. It seemstoo long a way to be traversed in a few days or weeks amidmerely the simple conditions which exist within a closedflask. A fungus- spore is not mere shapeless protoplasm. Init, as in the bacterium and the vibrio, there is a visiblespecialization of structure, albeit a slight specialization.These infusoria are " lowest organisms," no doubt: still theyare really organisms and not merely masses of organic matter.They have forms which are more or less persistent; and inthis fact is to be seen the strongest of the objections whichmay be urged d priori against Dr. Bastian's views. Fororganic form is a circ*mstance into which heredity largelyenters; and where we find organisms even so simple as thejointed rods which are called vibrios, it is difficult, ontheoretical grounds, not to accredit them with a regularorganic parentage. Such considerations cannot weigh againsta crucial experiment; but in the present state of the question they are entitled to serious attention. Dr. Bastian argues,with great ingenuity, that just as crystals, growing in a liquidmenstruum, take on shapes that are determined by the mutualattractions and repulsions of their molecules, so do thesecolloidal bodies, which we call monads and bacteria, arisingby "spontaneous generation " in liquid menstrua, take onforms that are similarly determined. The analogy, however,is not exact. I am not disposed to deny that the shape of abacterium, or indeed of a wasp, a fish, a dog, or a man, isdue, quite as much as the shape of a crystal of snow orquartz, to the forces mutually exerted on each other by itsconstituent molecules. But it must be remembered that inthe case of an organism, the direction of these forces depends,430 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. ILin a way not yet explained, upon the directions in which theyhave been exerted by ancestral organisms. In other words aset of definite tendencies has been acquired during the slowevolution of organic life; and it may well be doubted that,even in the case of the bacterium, a tendency toward theformation of single or double nuclei can have been gainedduring the evolution of a single generation of individuals.For in colloidal matter, as such, there is no definite tendencytoward the formation of nuclear spots, such as are seen inbacteria. It is a main characteristic of colloids, as contrastedwith crystalloids, not to have any specific form. It is,therefore, hard to believe that, during the decomposition ofsome saline liquid, the freed elements not only recombineinto a colloid, but even go so far as to take on the specificshape of a bacterium or vibrio, When any such successionof phenomena appears to occur, it clearly points to theill-understood but imperative fact of heredity through along past.Until this difficulty is either cleared away by trustworthydeduction, or overridden by some crucial experiment, I do notthink that the advocates of " spontaneous generation " can besaid to have made out their case; and such an abstruse question is here opened that it is not likely soon to be settled.For the present, in representing to ourselves how life mayhave originated upon the earth, we are reduced to a few mostgeneral considerations. However the question may eventuallybe decided as to the possibility of archebiosis occurring atthe present day amid the artificial circ*mstances of thelaboratory, it cannot be denied that archebiosis, or the origination of living matter in accordance with natural laws, musthave occurred at some epoch in the past. That life has notalways existed upon the earth's surface is certain; and thefollowing considerations will show that in its first appearance there need not have been anything either sudden orabnormal.CH. VIII.] THE BEGINNINGS OF LIFE. 431When our earth, refusing to follow in their retreat theheavier portions of the solar nebula, began its independentcareer as a planet, its surface was by no means so heterogeneous as at present. We may fairly suppose that the temperature of that surface cannot have been lower than thetemperature of the solar surface at the present time, which isestimated at three million degrees Fahrenheit, or some fourteen thousand times hotter than boiling water. At such atemperature there could have been no formation of chemicalcompounds, so that the chief source of terrestrial heterogeneity did not exist; while physical causes of heterogeneitywere equally kept in abeyance by the maintenance of allthings in a gaseous state. We have now to note how themere consolidation and cooling of this originally gaseousplanet must have given rise to the endless variety of structures, organic as well as inorganic, which the earth's surfacenow presents. The origination of life will thus appear in itsproper place, as an event in the chemical history of the earth.Let us see what must have been the inevitable chemicalconsequences of the earth's cooling.In a large number of cases heat is favourable to chemicalunion, as in the familiar instance of lighting a candle, a gaset, or a wood-fire. The molecules of carbon and oxygen,which will not unite when simply brought into juxtaposition,nevertheless begin rapidly to unite as soon as their rates ofundulation are heightened by the intense heat of the match.In like manner the phosphoric compound with which the endof the match is equipped refuses to take up molecules of atmospheric oxygen, until its own molecules receive an incrementof motion supplied by the arrested molar motion of the matchalong a rough surface. So oxygen and hydrogen do not combine when they are simply mingled together in the samevessel; but when sufficiently heated they explode, and uniteto form steam. In these, and in many other cases, a certainamount of heat causes substances to enter into chemical432 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. ILunion. But it is none the less true that an enormous supplyof heat implies such violent molecular undulation as to renderchemical union impossible. Since the mode of attractiveforce known as chemism acts only at infinitesimal distances,the increase of thermal undulation, which at first only causessuch a molecular rearrangement as to allow mutuallyattracting molecules to rush together, must at last cause sucha separation of particles that chemism will be unable to act.This inference from known laws of heat is fully verified byexperiment, in the case of all those compounds which we candecompose by such thermal means as we have at command.Speaking generally, the most complex compounds are themost unstable, and these are the soonest decomposed by heat.The highly complex organic molecules of fibrine and albumenare often separated by the ordinary heat of a summer's day,as is witnessed in the spoiling of meat. Supersalts and doublesalts are decomposed at lower temperatures than simple salts;and these again yield to a less amount of heat than is required to sunder the elements of deutoxides, peroxides, etc.The protoxides, which are only one degree more complex thansimple elements, withstand a still higher temperature, andseveral of them refuse to yield to the greatest heat which wecan produce artificially. No chemist, however, doubts that astill greater heat would decompose even these.We may thus picture to ourselves the earth's surface as atthe outset composed only of uncombined elements, of freeoxygen hydrogen, nitrogen, carbon, sulphur, etc., and of iron,copper, sodium, and other metals in a state of vapour. Withthe lowering of this primitive temperature by radiation,chemical combinations of greater and greater heterogeneitybecame gradually possible. First appeared the stable binarycompounds, such as water and the inorganic acids and bases.After still further lowering of temperature, some of theless stable compounds, such as salts and double salts, wereenabled to appear on the scene. At a later date came theCH. VIII.] THE BEGINNINGS OF LIFE. 433still more heterogeneous and unstable organic acids andethers. And all this chemical evolution must have takenplace before the first appearance of living protoplasm. Uponthese statements we may rest with confidence, since they areimmediate corollaries from known properties of matter.When it is asked, then, in what way were brought aboutthe various chemical combinations from which have resultedthe innumerable mineral forms which make up the crust ofthe globe, the reply is that they were primarily due to theunhindered working of the chemical affinities of their constituent molecules as soon as the requisite coolness wasobtained. As soon as it became cool enough for oxygen andhydrogen to unite into a stable compound, they did unitë toform vapour of water. As soon as it became cool enough fordouble salts to exist, then the mutual affinities of simplebinary compounds and single salts, variously brought intojuxtaposition, sufficed to produce double salts. And so on,throughout the inorganic world.Here we obtain a hint as to the origin of organic life uponthe earth's surface. In accordance with the modern dynamictheory of life, we are bound to admit that the higher and lessstable aggregations of molecules which constitute protoplasmwere built up in just the same way in which the lower andmore stable aggregations of molecules which constitute asingle or a double salt were built up. Dynamically, the onlydifference between carbonate of ammonia and protoplasm,which can be called fundamental, is the greater molecularcomplexity and consequent instability of the latter. We arebound to admit, then, that as carbonic acid and ammonia,when brought into juxtaposition, united by virtue of theirinherent properties as soon as the diminishing temperaturewould let them; so also carbon, nitrogen, hydrogen, andoxygen, when brought into juxtaposition, united by virtue oftheir inherent properties into higher and higher multiples asfast as the diminishing temperature would let them. until at VOL. I. FF434 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [FT. Ilast living protoplasm was the result of the long-continuedprocess.While by following such considerations as these into greaterdetail the mode in which protoplasm must have arisen mayby and by be partially comprehended, it is at the same timetrue that the ultimate mystery-the association of vital properties with the enormously- complex chemical compoundknown as protoplasm-remains unsolved. Why the substanceprotoplasm should manifest sundry properties which are notmanifested by any of its constituent substances, we do notknow; and very likely we shall never know. But whetherthe mystery be for ever insoluble or not, it can in no wise beregarded as a solitary mystery. It is equally mysterious thatstarch or sugar or alcohol should manifest properties not displayed by their elements, oxygen, hydrogen and carbon, whenuncombined. It is equally mysterious that a silvery metaland a suffocating gas should by their union become transformed into table-salt. Yet, however mysterious, the factremains that one result of every chemical synthesis is themanifestation of a new set of properties. The case of livingmatter or protoplasm is in nowise exceptional.In view of these considerations it may be held that theevolution of living things is a not improbable concomitant ofthe cooling down of any planetary body which contains uponits surface the chemical constituents of living matter. It mayperhaps turn out that we can no more reproduce in thelaboratory the precise groups of conditions under which livingmatter was first evolved than we can obtain direct testimonyas to the language and civilization of our pre-historic ancestors. But, just as it is conceded to be possible, by reasoningupon established philological principles, to obtain some trustworthy results as to the speech and culture of the pre-historicAryans, so it must be admitted that, by reasoning upon knownfacts in physical science, we may get some glimpse of thecirc*mstances which must have attended the origin of livingSH. VIII.] THE BEGINNINGS OF LIFE. 435aggregations of matter. By following out this method newlight will no doubt eventually be thrown upon the past history of our planet, and a sound basis will be obtained forconjectures regarding the existence of living organisms uponsome of our neighbour worlds.In this account of the matter we have completed, so far asis needful for the purposes of this work, our exposition ofthe evolution of the earth. Combining the results obtainedin the three foregoing chapters, we may contemplate in asingle view the wonderful advance in determinate multiformity which has resulted from the integration of the earth'smatter, with the accompanying dissipation of its internalmotion. We have witnessed this process of evolution asmanifested in geologic and meteorologic phenomena; we havefollowed the wondrous differentiations and integrations of themolecular motion which the cooling and consolidating earthhas received from the centre of our system; and finally, fromthat very cooling and consolidation upon which all the foregoing phenomena are dependent, we have shown that theremust naturally have ensued a progressive chemical heterogeneity, resulting at last in the genesis of compounds manifesting those properties which we distinguish as vital. Thusthe continuity in cosmic evolution is grandly exhibited, andwe see more clearly than ever that between the various provinces of natural phenomena there are no sharp demarcations. As the geologic development of the earth is but aspecialized portion of the whole development of the solarsystem, a portion which we separate from the rest andassign to a special science, solely for convenience of study;so the development of living matter is but a specialized portion of the whole development of the earth, and it is onlyfor reasons of convenience that the formation of primevalprotoplasm is assigned to a different science from that whichdeals with the formation of limestone or silica. Though aswe advance from a lower grade of heterogeneity to a higherFF 2436 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. ILgrade, we encounter differences of property or of functionalmanifestation which we may broadly classify as differencesof kind, the conclusion is nevertheless forced upon us thatsuch differences of kind are ultimately reducible to differences of degree, and that at bottom there is no breakwhatever in the continuity of the process of Evolution.It is not pretended, however, that these considerationsfulfil all the requirements of a scientific explanation of thegenesis of life. Essentially sound as I believe them to be,they do but point out the direction in which an explanationis to be sought. A complete explanation of the origin oflife must include not only a statement of the general conditions under which life originated, such as I have hereattempted to offer, but also a statement of the specific combination of circ*mstances which gave rise to such an event.If Dr. Bastian's theory of archebiosis can be inductivelyestablished, it may possibly help us to such a statement.But the considerations above adduced make it probable thata wider view of the case is needful than is implied in Dr.Bastian's researches. It seems likely that the genesis ofliving matter occurred when the general temperature of theearth was very different from what it is in the present day;and in order to engage in a profitable course of experimentation, we must first seek to determine, and then to reproduceif possible, all the requisite conditions associated with thatgeneral difference in temperature. Whether this can bedone, still remains to be seen. That the problem seemshopeless to-day might have been to Comte a sufficient reasonfor condemning it as vain and profitless. But the history ofstellar astronomy may teach us to beware of thus hastilyjudging the capacity of the future by that of the present.Till within a few years it would have seemed to the wisestman incredible that we should ever be able to determine thedirect approach or recession of a star. Yet, from a quarterleast expected, a flood of light has been shed upon this mostSH. VIII. ] THE BEGINNINGS OF LIFE. 437difficult problem. As the doe, in the old fable, keeping herBound eye landward, was at last shot by archers passing in aboat, so Nature has here been forced to render up her secretin the most unlooked-for way. Through the amazing resultsobtained by spectrum analysis it has turned out that theheavier difficulty has become the lighter one, and that thedirect approach or recession of a star, which affords noparallax, is actually easier to measure than its thwart-motionwhich affords parallax! In like manner the specific solutionof the problem of the origin of life need not be despaired of,nor need we wonder if it come from some quite unsuspectedquarter.Meanwhile the considerations above alleged will enable usto put the grand phenomenon of the genesis of life into itsproper place among the phenomena of telluric evolution.The gulf between the geologic phase of the process and thebiologic phase is so far bridged for us that we may approachthe study of the latter without misgivings. In the followingchapter I shall enumerate the reasons which compel us toaccept the doctrine of the derivation of the more complexforms of life from less complex forms; and because of theinterest which just now attaches to the question, I shallmake more explicit mention of the opposing doctrine ofspecial creations than its own merits would otherwise justify.CHAPTER IXSPECIAL-CREATION or DERIVATION?WHATEVER may be said in condemnation or approval of themethod of estimating the worth of men and women by aninquiry into their pedigrees, it cannot be denied that there isoften much value in such a method of estimating the worthof current ideas. Obviously a theory which was framed in abarbarous age, when men were alike unfamiliar with the conceptions of physical causation and uniformity of law andignorant of the requirements of a valid scientific hypothesis,and which has survived until the present day, not because ithas been uniformly verified by observation or deduction, butbecause it has been artificially protected from critical scrutinyby incorporation with a system of theological dogmas assumedto be infallible,-obviously such a theory is at the outsetdiscredited by its pedigree. A presumption is at once raisedagainst it, which a critical examination may indeed do awaywith, but which for the moment cannot fail to have someweight with a jury of inquirers familiar with the history ofhuman thinking. On the other hand a theory is à prioriaccredited by its pedigree when it is framed in a cultivatedage by thinkers familiar alike with the special phenomenawhich form its subject- matter and with the requirements ofscientific hypothesis in general; and when, in spite ofCH. IX. ] SPECIAL-CREATION OR DERIVATION? 439theological or sentimental prejudice, it so thrives under themost rigorous critical scrutiny that each successive decadeenlists in its support a greater and greater number of themost competent investigators of nature. I do not say thatsuch an à priori presumption should ever be taken as decisivein favour of any hypothesis. I say only that such considerations do have their weight, and ought to have their weight,in determining the general state of mind which we bringto the discussion of the relative merits of two theories sodifferent in their pedigrees as are the two theories which weare now about to examine. If, with my eyes closed upon all thesignificant facts which bear upon the question of the originof species, I were required to decide between two hypotheses,of which the one was framed in an age when the sky wassupposed to be the solid floor of a celestial ocean, while theother was framed in an age when Lagrange and Laplace weredetermining the conditions of equilibrium of the solarsystem, I should at once decide, on general principles, infavour of the latter. And on general principles I should bequite justified in so deciding.Happily, however, we are not called upon to render adecision, upon this or upon any other scientific question,with our eyes shut. In the present chapter we have toexamine two opposing hypotheses relating to the originationof the multitudinous complex forms of animal and vegetallife which surround us. And of these two opposinghypotheses we shall find it not difficult to show that the oneis discredited, not only by its pedigree and not only by theimpossible assumptions which it would require us to make,but also by every jot and tittle of the scientific evidence, sofar as known, which bears upon the subject; while the otheris not only accredited by its pedigree, and by its requiring usto make no impracticable assumptions, but is also corroboratedby all the testimony which the patient interrogation of thefacts of nature has succeeded in eliciting. The former hypo-440 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. IL.thesis, originating in the crude mythological conceptions ofthe ancient Hebrews, and uncritically accepted until the timeof Lamarck and Goethe, in deference to a tradition whichinvested these mythological conceptions with a peculiar andunwarranted sacredness, is known as the Doctrine of SpecialCreations. The latter hypothesis, originating in the methodicalstudy of the phenomena of organic life, held by a largenumber of biologists during the first half of the presentcentury, and of late years accepted by nearly all, may becalled the Doctrine of Derivation.In describing the special-creation hypothesis, we are confronted by an initial difficulty, due to the enormous changewhich has occurred in men's habits of thinking since themythopoeic age when it first gained currency. The Hebrewwriter, indeed, presents us with a concrete picture of thecreation of man, according to which a hom*ogeneous claymodel of the human form is, in some inconceivable way, atonce transmuted into the wonderfully heterogeneous combination of organs and tissues, with all their definite and highlyspecialized aptitudes, of which actually living man is madeup. But I suppose there are few scientific writers at thepresent day who would be found willing to risk their reputation for common- sense by attempting to defend such a conception. The few naturalists who still make a show ofupholding the special-creation hypothesis, are very careful torefrain from anything like a specification of the physicalprocesses which that hypothesis may be supposed to imply.When overtly challenged, they find it safest to shrink fromthe direct encounter, taking refuge in grandiloquent phrasesabout "Creative Will " and the " free action of an IntelligentPower," very much as the cuttle-fish extricates itself from adisagreeable predicament by hiding in a shower of its ownink. But, however commendable such phrases may be whenregarded as a general confession of faith, they are muchworse than useless when employed as substitutes forCH. IX.] SPECIAL-CREATION OR DERIVATION! 441scientific description of facts. They only serve to encouragethat besetting sin of human thinking, which accepts a playupon words as an equivalent for a legitimate juxtaposition ofvalid conceptions.When translated, however, from the dialect of mythologyinto the dialect of science, the special-creation hypothesisasserts that the untold millions of organic molecules of whichan adult mammal is composed all rushed together at someappointed instant from divers quarters of the compass, and,spontaneously or in virtue of some inexplicable divinesorcery, grouped themselves into the form of an adultorganism, some of them arranging themselves into infinitelycomplicated nerve-fibres and ganglionic cells, others into thewonderfully complex contractile tissue of muscles, whileothers again were massed in divers convoluted shapes, aslungs, intestines, blood- vessels, and secreting glands. Or, ifa different form of statement be preferred, at one momentwe have a background of landscape, with its water and itstrees, its sands and its herbage, and at the next succeedingmoment we have in the foreground an ox or a man, or,according to another view, a herd of oxen and a group ofmen, and all this without any assignable group of physicalantecedents intervening! He who can believe that St. Goar,of Trèves, transformed a sunbeam into a hat-peg, or that menwere once changed into werewolves by putting on an enchanted girdle, or that Joshua and Cardinal Ximenes constrained the earth to pause in its rotation, will probably findno difficulty in accepting such a hypothesis to account forthe origin of men and oxen. To persons in such a stage ofculture it is no obstacle to any hypothesis that it involves anassumption as to divine interposition which is incapable ofscientific investigation and uninterpretable in terms of humanexperience. It can hardly be denied, however, that anyhypothesis which involves such an assumption is at oncexcluded from the pale of science, and relegated to the442 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.Pt. II.regions of mythology, where it may continue to satisfy thoseto whom mythologic interpretations of natural phenomenastill seem admissible, but can hardly be deemed of muchaccount by the scientific inquirer.On the other hand, according to the doctrine of derivation,the more complex plants and animals are the slowly modifieddescendants of less complex plants and animals, and these inturn were the slowly modified descendants of still less complex plants and animals, and so on until we converge to thoseprimitive organisms which are not definable either as animalor as vegetal, but which in their lowest forms are mere shredsof jelly- like protoplasm, such as the spontaneous combinationof colloidal clusters of organic molecules might well becapable of originating under appropriate conditions, after themanner pointed out in the preceding chapter. The agenciesby which this slow derivation of higher from lower forms hasbeen effected are agencies such as are daily seen in operation about us; namely, individual variation, adaptation toenvironing circ*mstances, and hereditary transmission of individual peculiarities. Obviously such a hypothesis is notonly highly credible in itself, since it only alleges that thegrowth of a complex organism from a simple globule ofprotoplasm, which is accomplished in every case of individualevolution, has also been accomplished during the evolutionof an immensely long series of individuals; but it is also apurely scientific hypothesis, since it appeals to no agenciessave such as are known to be in operation, and involves noassumptions which cannot, sooner or later, be subjected to acrucial test.These preliminary considerations show how strong is thelegitimate presumption in favour of the theory of derivation.But the case is not to be dismissed upon these summary,though forcible, considerations. To the general reasons hereassigned for preferring the theory of derivation to the theoryof special creations, a scientific survey of the phenomenaJH. IX. ] SPECIAL-CREATION OR DERIVATION! 443will add a number of special reasons. Four kinds of arguments in favour of the hypothesis of derivation are furnishedrespectively by the Classification of plants and animals, bytheir Embryology, by their Morphology, and by their Distribution in space and time. I shall devote the present chapterto the consideration of these four classes of arguments;reserving for the following chapter the explanation of theagencies which have been at work in forwarding the processof development.I. The facts which are epitomized in tabular classificationsof animals and plants, are so familiar to us that we seldomstop to reflect upon their true significance. And in any baldstatement of them which might here be made, the impressionof triteness would perhaps be so strong as to prevent thatsignificance from being duly realized, save by the student ofnatural history. To present in the strongest light the evidentiary value of these facts, I shall therefore have recourseto an analogous series of facts in a quite distinct science,where the significance of the classification is illustrated bythe known history of the phenomena which are classified.Like the sciences of zoology and botany, the science ofphilology is pre-eminently a classificatory science, using themethod of comparison as its chief implement of inductiveresearch. And philology, at least so far as the study of theAryan languages is concerned, has been carried to such a highdegree of scientific perfection, as regards the accuracy of itsprocesses and the certainty of its results, that we may safelygather from it such illustrations as suit our present purpose.The various Aryan or Indo- European languages are demonstrably descended from a single ancestral language, in thesame sense in which the various modern Romanic languagesare all descended from the vulgar Latin of the Western Empire. By slow dialectic variations in pronunciation, and inthe use of syntactical devices for building up sentences , theselanguages have been imperceptibly differentiated from a single444 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. IL.primeval language, until they are now so unlike that not oneof them is intelligible, save after careful study, to thespeakers of another. The minute variations of which thecumulative result is this manifold unlikeness, have not proceeded at haphazard; but they have all along been determined by certain phonetic conditions, which have been sothoroughly generalized, that philologists can now occasionallyreconstruct extinct words, after a fashion somewhat similarto that in which Prof. Huxley would, I presume, reconstructan extinct animal upon seeing one of its fossilized bones orteeth.But what now chiefly concerns us is the fact that allexisting Aryan languages are the modified descendants of acommon progenitor. Bearing this in mind, let us note sundryfeatures of the classification of these languages. In the firstplace, it is impossible to arrange them in any linear serieswhich will truly represent their relations to each other. Insome respects Sanskrit is nearest the original type, in otherrespects it is Lithuanian which shows the least departure, inother respects it is Old Irish, and in yet others it is Latin.Even if we decide to make a compromise, and to begin withSanskrit, as being on the whole the least modified of theselanguages, we cannot stir many steps without getting intodifficulties. Suppose we say Sanskrit, Lithuanian, Old Irish,Latin, Old Slavic, Zend, Greek, Gothic, Old German. Seenow what we have been doing! We have indeed got OldIrish and Latin close together, as they ought to be, and wehave done right in putting Gothic and Old German side byside; but we have been obliged to thrust in half a dozenlanguages between Sanskrit and Zend, and between Latinand Greek there is a similar unseemly divorce. When wecome to take in the later dialects, the confusion becomes stilimore hopeless. If after Sanskrit we put in Prakrit and Pali,Urdu and Bengali, and a dozen other derivatives, we mustthen jump back to Latin, for instance, and after followingCH. IX. ]SPECIAL-CREATION OR DERIVATION 445along through Italian, Spanish, French, and their sister-dialects, jump back again to some ancient language. Obviouslythis is violating all the requirements of proper classification,which consists in putting nearest together those objectswhich are nearest alike.In view of these and other kindred difficulties, philologistshave long since agreed to arrange the Aryan family of languages in divergent and re-divergent groups and sub-groups,along lines which ramify like the branches, branchlets, andtwigs of a tree. Let us trace the pedigree of the French andEnglish languages, according to this principle of classification as elaborated by Schleicher, remembering that whileother philologists have objected to some of the details of theclassification , ¹ all agree, and must agree, in the fundamentalprinciple. Starting, then, from the Aryan mother-tongue,we first encounter two diverging lines of development, represented by two extinct phases of language which we maycall the South Aryan and North Aryan. Following the progress of the South Aryan, we find it diverging on the onehand into Indo-Iranian, and on the other hand into theparental form of the Hellenic, Italic, and Keltic languages.Neglecting the other branches, and following only the Italic,we find the divergent forms of this exemplified in Umbrian,Oscan, and Latin; and again, following the career only of thelatter branch, we arrive at French and its kindred Romanicdialects. On the other hand, as we follow the North Aryanline, we find it first dividing into Teutonic and Slavo-LettishNeglecting the latter, we observe the Teutonic again diverging into Gothic, Old Norse, and Old German. Followingonly the latter of these, we may observe it bifurcating intoHigh and Low German, from the latter of which is derivedthe English which we speak.Indeed it is possible that the primary division should be into Eastern and Western, or European and Asiatic, rather than Northern and Southern Aryan.But the future decision of this question will not alter the principle uponwhich the classification is founded and which it is here cited to exemplify.116 [PT. IL COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.Now if we take a general survey of this family-tree, wefind that kindred words in languages down near the trunkresemble each other closely, while kindred words in languageshigh up on the twigs have often well-nigh lost all traces oftheir primitive family- likeness. To be sure we can stillrecognize the English daughter in the Sanskrit duhitr, butsuch strong resemblances are not usual, and it is only too easyto look at a page of Sanskrit without realizing its kinshipwith English. But to show howthe likeness diminishes aswe recede from the original source, let us consider twoEnglish words-one of which has come to us by naturaldescent, through the North Aryan line, while the other hascome to us, by adoption, from the South Aryan stock. Notwo words could well be more unlike than the words pen andfeather. Of these the latter is a purely English word, whilethe former is a word we have adopted from the Latin. Nowgreat as is the difference between these two words, it verynearly disappears when we have recourse to their Old Aryanprototypes pata-tra and pat- na. Pat is a word designatingflight. Pata-tra and pat-na are words designating a wing, orinstrument used in flying. In the course of the North Aryan development pata- tra becomes fath- thra and finally feather, justas patar becomes father, in accordance with a general tendencyof the Teutonic toward aspirating the hard mutes of the oldlanguage; while on the other hand, in the course of the SouthAryan development pat- na became first pes-na and thenpen-na,in accordance with a general tendency of the Latin toward theassimilation of contiguous consonants. Who but a linguist,knowing the history of the words, and familiar with thegeneral principles of phonetic change, would suspect thatwords apparently so distinct as pen and feather could be referred so nearly to a common origin? Or consider the Frenchlarme and the English tear. These words are demonstrablydescended from the same ancestral form dakru-ma. Butwhile the South Aryan form has undergone one kind ofCH. IX.] SPECIAL-CREATION OR DERIVATION! 447change into the Latin lacru-ma, and thence into the Fierchlarme; the North Aryan form has undergone another kind ofchange into the Old German tagr, and thence into theEnglish tear.Thus in general, as we go backward in time, we find thelines of linguistic development drawing together. Betweenthe various Low-Dutch dialects spoken along the north coastof Germany, the differences are hardly great enough to interfere with mutual intelligibility. Again, between Portugueseand Spanish the differences are so small that one who is wellacquainted with Spanish can often get the sense of manypages in a Portuguese book without having specially studiedthe latter language. But German and Spanish have fewmutually intelligible words in common, and their differencesin idioms and in structure of sentences are no less conspicuous. While it might be possible to maintain that Dutchand Platt-Deutsch, or that Portuguese and Spanish, are onlydialects of the same language, no one would hesitate about calling Teutonic and Romance quite different forms of language.Yet we need only go back far enough to find the demarcation quite as obscure in the one case as in the other; forTeutonic and Romance began as the northern and southerndialects of the same Old Aryan language. In similar wisewe may say that, even with the keenest linguistic instinct, itwould be difficult to decipher a line of modern Persian byreason of its kinship with modern Greek; while yet it isundeniable that the Persian spoken by the officers of Xerxeswas strikingly similar to the Greek spoken by Demaratosand Leonidas.In citing this example from the phenomena of language, Ido not cite it as direct testimony in favour of the theory ofderivation in biology. Because tear and larme can be tracedback to a common form, it does not follow that the pig andthe horse have a common ancestor. Yet, while the linguisticparallel is by no means available as direct testimony in a448 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. (PT. II.""biological question, it has nevertheless a logical value so important that zoologists as eminent as Haeckel and philologistsas profound as Schleicher have not failed to insist upon it.What we see exemplified in these linguistic phenomena, isthe way in which a classification must be framed in all caseswhere we have to express complex genetic relationships. Wesee that where a multitude of objects are associated by acommon genesis, we cannot classify them in a linear series,but only in groups and sub- groups, diverging from a commontrunk, like the branches and twigs of what we very aptlyterm a family-tree." And on the general principles ofhereditary relationship, we see that objects near the commontrunk will depart less widely from the primitive ancestraltype, and will therefore resemble each other more closely,than objects far up on the ends of the branches. A comparison of the different races of Aryan men would bring outthe same results as the comparison of their languages. Aftermaking all allowances for the intermixture of the Aryanswith divers aboriginal races in Europe and Asia, it remainsgenerally admitted that every Aryan language is spoken bymen who are predominantly Aryan in blood. Now it wouldbe impossible to arrange Hindus, Greeks, Italians, Russians,Germans, and English, in any linear series. We can onlydivide and subdivide, arranging them in groups that divergeand re-diverge. Such must always be the case when wehave to deal with phenomena due to hereditary relationship;and wherever we find a set of objects thus arranged ingroups within groups, converging at the bottom and divergingat the top, we have the very strongest possible primâ facieground for asserting hereditary relationship.Coming now to our main thesis, we can begin to appreciatethe strength of the evidence in favour of the derivationtheory, which is furnished by the classification of animals, aseffected by Cuvier and Von Baer, and still further elaboratedby Huxley and Haeckel. Previous to Cuvier, many eminentCH. IX. ] 449 SPECIAL-CREATION, OR DERIVATION.naturalists endeavoured to arrange the animal kingdom in aseries of lineally ascending groups. The illustrious Lamarckdid so; and the result was that he placed oysters and snailshigher up than bees and butterflies. Blainville did better,having come as near as possible to surmounting insurmountable obstacles; but he nevertheless is forced to put cirrhipedsand myriapoda above the cuttle- fish. It was a great step inadvance when Cuvier showed that there are at least fourdistinct types of animal structure, and that no linear seriescan be framed; although Prof. Agassiz undoubtedly transgressed the limits of scientific inquiry, when he attempted toexplain the coexistence of these distinct types by resuscitating from its moss- covered tomb the Platonic theory ofIdeas, and impressing it into the service of natural theology.Nevertheless in his remarkable " Essay on Classification,"Prof. Agassiz more than atones for these metaphysical aberrations by the conclusiveness with which he shows the impossibility of making a linear classification of animals. In such aseries, the lowest of vertebrates, the unintelligent amphioxus,would rank above the wonderfully-organized crabs, ants, andbutterflies. The degraded lepidosiren would take precedenceof the salmon; and the lowly-organized duck- bill, as being amamınal, would be placed above the parrot and the falcon.Or if we attempted to escape these difficulties by rankingour animals in a series according to their general complexityof organization, neglecting their typical differences of structure, our whole classification would be thrown into senselessconfusion. Parrots and honey-bees would be thrust in amongmammals, and not only classes, but even orders, and perhapsfamilies, of annulosa would have to be divided, to make roomfor intrusive echinoderms and mollusks.In view of these difficulties, as Prof. Huxley and Prof.Haeckel have shown, the only feasible manner of arrangingthe animal kingdom is in a number of diverging or branchinglines, like the boughs and twigs of a tree. Starting from theVOL. I. G G450 [PT. IL COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.amoeba and its kindred, which are neither animal nor vegetalin character, we encounter two diverging lines of development represented respectively-according to Haeckel's surmise-by those protists with harder envelopes which are thepredecessors of the vegetable kingdom, and those protistswith softer envelopes which are the forerunners of the inoremobile animal type of organization. Confining our attentionto animals, we meet first with the cœlenterata, includingsponges, corals, and medusæ, characterized by the union ofmasses of amoeba-like units, with but little specialization ofstructure or of function. Beside these lowly forms, but notimmediately above any one of them, we find echinodermsstarting off in one direction, worms or annuloida in a second,and molluscoida in a third. Following the first road, westop short with echinoderms. But on the second, we findannuloid worms succeeded by articulata, or true annulosa,which re-diverge in sundry directions, reaching the greatestdivergence from the primitive forms in the crabs, spiders,and ants. On the third road, we find the molluscoid wormsdiverging into mollusks and vertebrates. On the one hand,through the bryozoa we are gradually led to the true mollusks,while on the other hand the tunicata, of which the ascidianor " pitcher " (the primitive " tadpole " of unscientific ridiculers of Darwinism) is the most familiar form, lead usdirectly to the vertebrates.2 At first the vertebrata are all1 Though I leave this sentence as it was written three years ago, it must not be understood as an unqualified endorsem*nt of Prof. Haeckel's attemptto erect a third kingdom-of Protists -comprising such organisms as are neither distinctively animal nor vegetable. There is something to be said in behalf of such an arrangement, provided no attempt be made to draw a hard and fast line between the protistic and the two higher kingdoms; and I sup.pose that no follower of Haeckel is likely to make such an attempt. Sincea bacterium or a vibrio is clearly not an animal, and clearly not a vegetable,while it is clearly a living thing, there would seem to be some convenience in having a region to which to assign it. I should, however, regard this"region" of protists, or lowest organisms, as not strictly a " kingdom," but rather as the indefinite border-land between the animal and vegetal worlds on the one hand and the realm of inorganic existence on the other.Kowalewsky has discovered some wonderful likenesses between the emryonic development of the ascidian and that of the amphioxus or lowe<;CH. IX.] SPECIAL- CREATION, OR DERIVATION? 451fishes, if such mollusk-like creatures as the amphioxus canstrictly be included among fishes; but presently here too thelines begin to diverge, and we encounter reptiles and birdson the one hand, and mammals on the other, all three beingrelated to fishes through the remarkable structures of livingand extinct batrachia.Such, as stated with crude brevity, is the classification ofanimals most in accordance with our present knowledge.Now from first to last, the farther we trace any one line ofdevelopment, the more widely we find it diverging from otherlines which originated in the same point. The higher insectsand crustaceans are not at all like worms; but the myriapoda,the lower crustaceans, and the caterpillars of higher insects,are like worms. Viewed at the upper ends of the scale, themollusks are widely different from the vertebrates: viewedat the lower end, the difference almost vanishes-theamphioxus being closely similar in structure to the ascidians,whose embryos present rudiments of a vertebral column. Notwo animals could well be more strikingly unlike than awren and an elephant; yet the lowest known mammal, the99 66known vertebrate. Of all the "missing links, " the assumed absence ofwhich is so persistently cited by the adherents of the dogma of fixity of species, the most important one would here appear to have been found; for it is a link which connects the complex and highly-evolved vertebrate with avery lowly form which passes its natural existence rooted plant-like to the soil, or rather to the sea-bottom. The ascidian cannot, indeed, be regardedas typifying the direct ancestors of the vertebrata. It is a curiously aberrant and degraded form, and its own progenitors had doubtless once seen betterdays. In its embryonic state it possesses a well-marked vertebral column,and it behaves in general very much as if it were going to grow to something like the amphioxus. But it afterwards falls considerably short of this mark.Already in early life its vertebræ begin to become " rudimentary" or evanes cent; and when fully matured, it stops swimming about after its prey, and,striking root in the sub-marine soil, remains thereafter standing, with its broad pitcher-like mouth ever in readiness to suck down such organisms floating by as may serve for its nutriment. That vertebræ should be found inthe embryo of such an animal is a most interesting and striking fact. It would seem to mark the ascidian as a retrograded offshoot of those primitive forms on the way toward assuming the vertebrate structure, of which the more fortunate ones succeeded in leaving as their representative the amphioxus.GG 2452 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY [PT. II..Australian duck-bill, possesses many bird-like characteristics.In the man and the oak, we get perhaps the widest possibleamount of divergence between organisms; yet at the bottomof the animal and vegetal kingdoms, we find creatures likethe amoeba and protococcus, which cannot be classified aseither animal or vegetal, because they are as much one asthe other.Moreover, as we go back in time, we find the lines ofdevelopment, now so widely distant from each other, continually drawing together. As a general rule, extinct animalsare less specialized than surviving animals; and the same istrue of plants. The ancient animal departed less widelyfrom the general type of the class or sub-kingdom to whichhe belonged than the modern animal. The monotremata,which of all mammals are the least remote from reptiles andbirds, are at the same time the oldest. In the teleosts ortrue fishes the differential characteristics of the vertebratetype are more strongly pronounced than in the olderselachians, to which order belongs the shark. Far back, insecondary times, we find lizards strongly resembling fishes,and other saurian creatures which differ little from birds.Confining our attention to any particular group, such as thatwhich embraces the ruminants and pachyderms, we find thehipparion of the Eocene epoch less specialized than either ofhis later kindred, the horse, ass, zebra, and quagga; whilethe gap between such dissimilar animals as the pig and thecamel is to a great extent filled by transitional forms foundin various tertiary strata.Again, it hardly needs stating that, as we proceed from ageneral survey of any group of animals or plants to a surveyof the sub-groups of which it is made up, we find thedifferences constantly growing less numerous and less fundamental. The differences between the ox and the lion aremany and important; but between the various members ofthe order carnivora, between the lion and the wolf or theCH. IX. ] SPECIAL 453 -CREATION, OR DERIVATION?bear, the differences are less. As we descend another step,and compare lions with lynxes, jaguars, leopards and cats,which belong to the same family, we find the points ofdivergence fewer and less characteristic. Between wild anddomestic cats there is still less difference; while between thevarious breeds of the domestic cat the distinctions are limitedto superficial characteristics of size, colour, and generalintelligence. Hence, in classifying contemporary organismsof high development, naturalists are never in doubt as to theclass, or order, and but seldom as to the family; while theyare not unfrequently in doubt as to the genus, and are continually disputing as to the species or variety to which agiven form belongs. As we descend in the scale of development, and go back in geologic time, the determination ofgenera becomes more and more difficult. Doubts frequentlyarise with reference to family, order, and class. And at lasteven the sub-kingdom becomes doubtful, as is strikinglyshown by the difficulty in classifying the lowly animalsprovisionally grouped by Cuvier as radiata, when contrastedwith the ease with which naturalists distinguish the highersub-kingdoms.Now all this complex arrangement of organisms in groupswithin groups, resembling each other at the bottom of thescale and differing most widely at the top, is just the arrangement which, as we have seen, must result from geneticrelationship; and upon any other theory than that of derivation it is utterly inexplicable. If each species has beenseparately created, no reason can be assigned for such anarrangement, unless perchance someone can be found hardyenough to maintain that it was intended as a snare and adelusion for human intelligence. The old opponents ofgeology, who strove to maintain at whatever cost thescientific credit of the Mosaic myth of the creation, assertedthat fossil plants and animals were created already deadand petrified, just for the fun of the thing. Manifestly154 (PT. IL COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.those persons take a quite similar position, who pretendthat God created separately the horse, ass, zebra, andquagga, having previously created a beast enough like allof them to be their common grandfather. Indeed, so powerfulis this argument from classification that it has always seemedto me sufficient by itself to decide the case in favour of thetheory of derivation. In myown case, the facts presentedin Prof. Agassiz's " Essay on Classification " went far towardproducing conviction before the publication of Mr. Darwin'swork on the " Origin of Species," where the significance ofsuch facts is clearly pointed out and strongly insisted upon.Four weeksII. An equally powerful argument is furnished by theembryonic development of organisms. As Von Baer longago pointed out, the germs of all animals are at the outsetexactly like each other; but in the process of developmenteach germ acquires first the differential characteristics of thesub-kingdom to which it belongs, then successively thecharacteristics of its class, order, family, genus, species, andrace. For example the germ-cell of a man is not only indistinguishable from the germ- cell of a dog, a chicken, or atortoise, but it is like the adult form of an amœba or aprotococcus, which are nothing but simple cells.after conception, the embryos of the man and the dog canhardly be distinguished from each other, but have becomeperceptibly different from the corresponding embryos of thechicken and tortoise. At eight weeks a few points of differerence between the dog and the man become perceptible;the tail is shorter in the human embryo, and the cerebrumand cerebellum have become larger, relatively to the corporaquadrigemina, than in the embryo of the dog; but thesedifferences are less striking than those which separate thetwo mammals on the one hand from the reptile and bird onthe other. At a later stage the human embryo becomes stillmore unlike that of the dog, acquiring characteristicspeculiar to the order of primates to which man belongsCH. IX. ] 455 SPECIAL-CREATION, OR DERIVATION?Lastly the fœtus of civilized man, at seven months, isentirely human in appearance, but still has not thoroughlyacquired the physical attributes which distinguish thecivilized man from the Australian or the negro.On the evolution-theory these phenomena are explicableas due to the integration or summing- up of adaptive processes, by which modifications slowly acquired through generations of ancestral organisms are more and more rapidlyrepeated in the embryos. Hence, as Prof. Haeckel haselaborately proved, we must expect to find the phenomena ofembryology in complete harmony with the facts of thegeological succession of organisms. Observation shows thatthe harmony is complete; and again, unless we are tosuppose that the phenomena of nature have been maliciouslyarranged with the express purpose of cheating us, we haveno choice but to accept that harmony as proof of the truthof the evolution- theory.Kindred evidence is furnished by the well-known fact thatmany animals, during their foetal life, acquire organs likethose possessed by adults of allied species, but which, havingno functions to discharge, are after awhile absorbed ordwindle into mere rudiments. The mammalian embryo atfirst circulates its blood through a vascular system like thegills of fishes; afterwards this is replaced by a vascular membrane called the allantois, like the membrane which replacesgills in the development of birds and reptiles. Neither ofthese structures is useful to the embryo for the purpose ofaerating its blood, and there is no possible explanation oftheir appearance in untold millions of mammals, unless weadmit that they are due to inheritance from the amphibiousancestors of the mammalian class. Of like meaning aresuch facts as the presence of useless teeth in the jaws offoetal whales, and in the beaks of certain embryonic birds;the rudiments of a pelvis and hind-limbs in many snakes .the wings, firmly fastened under their wing-cases, in insect456 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. ILwhich do not fly; the cæcum, or blind intestine, and theterminal vertebræ, in man; and the incisor teeth in calvesand other ruminants, which never cut through the gum. Ncexplanation can be given of such phenomena, save on thetheory of inheritance; for the pompous statement, which wesometimes hear, that such organs have been created " for thesake of symmetry, and in order to complete the scheme ofnature," is no explanation at all. As Mr. Darwin pertinentlyasks, "Would it be thought sufficient to say that becauseplanets revolve in elliptic courses round the sun, satellitesfollow the same course round their planets, for the sake ofsymmetry, and to complete the scheme of nature? " Moreover,if we were to rest content with this arbitrary assumption, wemust needs confess that the symmetry of nature has been butimperfectly wrought out; for the rudimentary organs which,on this hypothesis, ought always to be present, are oftenentirely wanting.In this connection the history of the long exploded hypothesis of Preformation becomes very instructive. The argument is ably presented by Mr. Lewes, in a series of essays onDarwinism , which are still buried among the back numbersof the " Fortnightly Review," but which, it is to be hoped,will presently be reprinted in some more generally accessibleform. Mr. Lewes calls attention to the fact that those whostill profess to find it incredible that a complex organismshould have been developed through long ages and throughcountless intermediate forms from a unicellular creature likethe amoeba, nevertheless find nothing incredible in the demonstrated fact that complex organisms are developed in a fewweeks or months from minute hom*ogeneous germ- cells. Nowit is instructive to note that to the physiologists of a centuryago, the latter process of development seemed quite as incredible as the former. The process by which a structurelessgerm, assimilating nutriment from the blood of the parentorganism, becomes gradually differentiated into such arCH. IX.] 407 SPECIAL-CREATION, OR DERIATION?amazingly complex creature as a man or an elephant, wasnot at that time understood. It seemed utterly incrediblethat a human infant could have so recently been a simpleglobule of protoplasm. It was accordingly maintained that,since an infant resembles an adult in most respects save thatof size, the original germ must be a minute copy of theinfant. From the germ to the adult man there was noincrease in complexity, there was only increase in dimensions. As a necessary consequence the germs of each generation were contained within the germs of the next precedinggeneration; so that in mother Eve were contained the miniature originals of the entire human race, completely shaped inevery feature, and shut up one within another, like a series ofChinese boxes!This hypothesis now strikes us as superlatively absurd.But it has been upheld by some of the greatest biologistswho have ever lived, -by Swammerdamm, Haller, Bonnet,Réaumur, and Cuvier, and to my mind it is less grotesquethan the hypothesis of special creations. But what now concerns us is the fact that the doom of the latter hypothesis isinevitably involved in the destruction of the former. For notonly may it be forcibly argued " that we can no more understand the appearance of a new organism which is not themodification of some already existing organism, than we canunderstand the sudden appearance of a new organ which is notthe modification of some existing structure; " but there wasyet another deadly weapon lying concealed amid the mass ofevidence with which Wolff and Von Baer overthrew the preformation theory. Why this roundabout method, abovedescribed, in which the germs of the higher organisms areeen to develope? Why does a mammal begin to developeas if it were going to become a fish, and then, changing itscourse, act as if it were going to become a reptile or bird, andonly after much delay assume the peculiar characteristics ofmammals? The human embryo, for example, begins with458 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. ILgill-like slits on each side of the neck, up to which thearteries run in arching branches, as in a fish; the heart is atfirst a simple pulsating chamber, like the heart of the lowestfishes; at a later period there is a movable tail considerablylonger than the legs; the great toe projects sideways from thefoot, like the toes of adult monkeys and apes; and, duringthe sixth month, the whole body is covered very thickly withhair, extending even over the face and ears, everywhere,indeed, save on the lower sides of the hands and feet, whichare also bare in the adult forms of other mammals. In likemanner, the tadpole of the black salamander, which is notborn until it is fully formed, and which never swims, nevertheless has gills as elaborately feathered as those which, inthe tadpoles of other salamanders, are destined for use.Treatises on embryology are crowded with just such facts asthese. Now why is it that, in all cases, before a complexorganism " can attain the structure which distinguishes it,there must be an evolution of forms which distinguish thestructures of organisms lower in the series "? 'None ofthese phases have any adaptation to the future state of theanimal; many of them have no adaptation even to its embryonic state." On the hypothesis that each species oforganisms was independently built up by a Divine Architect,how are we to explain these circuitous proceedings? " What,”asks Mr. Lewes, " should we say to an architect who wasunable, or being able was obstinately unwilling, to erect apalace except by first using his materials in the shape of ahut, then pulling it down and rebuilding them as a cottage,then adding storey to storey and room to room, not with anyreference to the ultimate purposes of the palace, but whollywith reference to the way in which houses were constructedin ancient times? What should we say to the architect whocould not directly form a museum out of bricks and mortar,but was forced to begin as if going to build a mansion; andafter proceeding some way in this direction, altered his plan66JH. IX.] SPECIAL-CREATION, OR DERIVATION? 459into a palace and that again into a museum? Yet this is thesort of succession on which organisms are constructed." Itis out of this very uncomfortable corner that metaphysicalnaturalists have sometimes attempted to slip, by gravelyasserting that Nature is obliged to work tentatively! Thuswe see that the habit of personifying Nature may sometimesbe made to serve an argumentative purpose. When theologians are molested by uncomfortable questions concerningthe existence of phenomena which seem incompatible withthe perfect wisdom of an anthropomorphic Deity, they arewont to ascribe them to the Devil. It must be acknowledgedthat metaphysical naturalists practise a more graceful, thoughnot a more candid, method of evasion, when they erectNature (spelled with a capital) into a person distinct fromphenomena, and coolly ascribe to her the shortcomings whichthey dare not lay to the account of a personal Deity.Viewed in the light of a scientific logic, this argumentfrom embryology, like the argument from classification, seemspowerful enough, when taken alone, to decide the case infavour of the derivation theory. As already hinted, thesephenomena are in general explicable by the Doctrine ofEvolution. But to the special- creation hypothesis they areunmanageable stumbling- blocks. Even without any profoundknowledge of embryology, one may readily see that if thetadpoles of the black salamander were anciently born as tadpoles, and swam in the water, they may still retain their exquisite gills while nourished to a later stage of developmentn the maternal organism. But on the opposite theory theexistence of these gills is meaningless.III. The equally significant facts of morphology may bemore concisely presented. Why, unless through common inheritance, should all the vertebrata be constructed on the sametype? Structurally considered, man, elephant, mouse, ostrich,humming-bird, tortoise, snake, frog, crocodile, halibut, herring,and shark, are but different modifications of one common460 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY. [PT. ILform. It is a familiar fact that the arms of men and apes,the fore-legs of quadrupeds, the paddles of cetacea, the wingsof birds, and the breast-fins of fishes are structurally identical,being developed from the same embryonal rudiments. Externally there is but little resemblance between the humanhand and the hoof of a horse; yet anatomy shows that thehorse's hoof is made up of claws or fingers firmly solderedtogether. Turning to the annulosa, we find that all insectsand crustaceans-dragon-flies and mosquitoes as well as crabsand shrimps-are composed of just twenty segments. "Whatnow," asks Mr. Spencer, " can be the meaning of this community of structure among these hundreds of thousands ofspecies filling the air, burrowing in the earth, swimming inthe water, creeping about among the sea-weed, and havingsuch enormous differences of size, outline and substance, thatno community would be suspected between them? Why,under the down- covered body of the moth and under the harowing- cases of the beetle, should there be discovered the samenumber of divisions as in the calcareous framework of thelobster?" But two answers are possible. We may either say,with the Mussulman, " it so pleased Allah, whose name beexalted; " or we may honestly acknowledge the scientific implication that such community of structure is strong evidencein favour of community of origin.IV. The facts of geographical distribution and geologicalsuccession are likewise in complete harmony with the development theory. On the hypothesis of special creations, no goodreason can be given why the extinct animals found in anygeographical area should resemble, both in general structureand in special modifications, the animals which now live inthe same area. Thus the fossil mammals of Australia arechiefly marsupials, allied in structure to the marsupials whichnow inhabit that continent; the extinct mammals of SouthAmerica closely resemble living sloths, armadillos and antraters. I was so much impressed with these facts " saysCH. IX. ] SPECIAL-CREATION, OR DERIVATION? 461·Mr. Darwin, "that I strongly insisted, in 1839 and 1845, onthis wonderful relationship in the same continent betweenthe dead and the living. Prof. Owen has subsequently extended the same generalization to the mammals of the OldWorld. We see the same law in this author's restorations ofthe extinct and gigantic birds of New Zealand. We sce italso in the birds of the caves of Brazil. Mr. Woodward hasshown that the same law holds good with sea-shells. Othercases could be added, as the relation between the extinct andliving land-shells of Madeira; and between the extinct andliving brackish-water shells of the Aralo-Caspian Sea."It has indeed been urged, by upholders of the specialcreation hypothesis, that these striking resemblances maybe explained by supposing each species to have been createdin strict adaptation to the conditions of life surrounding it.That is to say, God has continued to create edentata inSouth America and marsupials in Australia, because thesetwo continents are best fitted for the comfortable maintenance respectively of edentata and of marsupials.Stubborn facts, however, are opposed to this theory of themethods of Divine working. The assumption that eachspecies is best adapted to its own habitat is refuted by suchfacts as the now rapidly progressing extermination of nativeanimals and plants in New Zealand by European organismslately carried there. Cow-grass, thistles, dock, and whiteclover flourish more vigorously in New Zealand than inEngland, and within a few years have almost displaced thenative grasses; while the native rats and flies are fast disappearing before the rats and flies imported from Europe.The assumption is still more strikingly refuted bya comparisonof the forms of life which inhabit Australia with those whichinhabit the southern extremities of Africa and South America.These three tracts of land are very similar in their physicalconditions, and yet, as Mr. Darwin has observed, it wouldbe impossible to point out three faunas and floras more462 COSMIC PHILOSOPHY LPT. II..strikingly dissimilar. If the distribution of organisms weremiraculously determined in accordance with their fitness totheir surrounding conditions, the fauna of South America inlatitude 35° ought to resemble the fauna of Australia in thesame latitude more closely than it resembles the fauna ofSouth America in latitudes north of 25°. The case is justthe reverse. Again there is no appreciable differencebetween the conditions of existence in the seas east andwest of the isthmus of Panama; and, according to theassumption of the special-creationists, their marine faunasought to be almost exactly alike. In fact no two marinefaunas are more completely distinct. Hardly a fish, mollusk, or crustacean is common to the eastern and westernshores. This is because the isthmus, though narrow, is im-'passable for marine organisms. On the other hand, wherevergroups of organisms are not prevented by impassable barriersfrom spreading over wide tracts of country or of sea, we finddistinct but closely-allied species widely spread and livingamong the most diverse conditions. The inference is obviousthat the population of different zoological and botanical areasis due to migration, and not to special creation. Whereorganisms have a chance to migrate, they migrate, andbecame adapted, by slight specific changes, to the new circ*mstances which they encounter. But where there is abarrier between one area and another, there we find completediversity between the inhabitants of the two areas, althoughthere is no reason for such diversity, save the impossibilityof getting across the barrier. Of like meaning is the factthat batrachians and terrestrial mammals are never foundindigenous upon oceanic islands. As Mr. Darwin observes,"the general absence of frogs and toads from oceanic islandscannot be accounted for by their physical conditions indeedit seems that islands are peculiarly well fitted for theseanimals; for frogs have been introduced into Madeira, theAzores, and Mauritius, and have multiplied so as to beCH. IX. ]463 SPECIAL-CREATION, OR DERIVATION?come a nuisance. But as these animals and their spawnare known to be immediately killed by sea-water, there wouldbe great difficulty in their transportal across the sea andtherefore on my view we can see why they do not existon any oceanic island. But why, on the theory of creation,they should not have been created there, it would be verydifficult to explain. " That terrestrial mammals cannot crossthe sea is obvious; but bats and birds, which can fly, arsfound on many oceanic islands. In an admirable essay onthe migrations of organisms, considered with reference to theDarwinian theory, Prof. Moritz Wagner has collected manysimilar examples. From personal observations in NorthAfrica, in Western Asia, in Hungary, and in America, thisveteran naturalist educes the general conclusion that thelimits within which allied species are found, are determinedby impassable natural barriers. Coleoptera with their wingsfastened down under their wing- cases, are specifically different on the opposite shores of small rivers; while butterfliesand hymenoptera range over large tracts of inland country,but are stopped by such obstacles as the Straits of Gibraltar.On opposite sides of the Andes, the conditions of existencediffer but little, while on the north and south sides of theCaucasus the difference in climate is extreme. Yet theAndes are much the more difficult to cross; and accordinglythe fauna which they separate are much more unlike thanthe fauna separated by the Caucasus. In like manner theGalapagos Islands, situated some six hundred miles from theSouth American continent, possess a fauna which, with theexception of a few birds, is generically distinct from all otherfaunas. Yet though generically distinct, it is South American in type, and most resembles the fauna of Chili, thenearest mainland. Furthermore, among the animals livingon the different islands of the group, we find specific diversityalong with generic identity. So also Madeira "is inhabitedby a wonderful number of peculiar land-shells, whereas not464 [PT. IL COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.one species of sea-shell is peculiar to its shores. " Similarrelations are found universally to hold between the organismswhich inhabit oceanic islands and those which inhabit neighbouring continents.These facts of geographical distribution, when taken inconnection with the facts of geological succession above mentioned, speak very emphatically in favour of the derivationtheory. That theory affords a satisfactory explanation forthis entire class of facts, while the special- creation hypothesisis incompetent to explain a single one of them. They are,moreover, in perfect harmony with the prominent facts ofmorphology, of embryology, and of classification; so that theevidence furnished by the four classes of facts taken togetherbecomes truly overwhelming.When in the next chapter we come to consider the speculations and discoveries of Mr. Darwin, we shall see that thecase in favour of derivation is even stronger than as herepresented; for we shall see that certain agencies are unceasingly at work, with the long continuance of which theabsolute stability of specific forms is incompatible. But, asbetween the two hypotheses of special creation and of derivation, the arguments already brought forward are far more thansufficient for a decisive verdict. The presumption raised atthe outset against the Doctrine of Special Creations is evensuperfluously confirmed by the testimony of facts. Not onlyis this doctrine discredited by its barbaric origin, and by theabsurd or impossible assumptions which it would require usto make; but it utterly fails to explain a single one of thephenomena of the classification, embryology, morphology,and distribution of extinct and living organisms. While, onthe other hand, the Doctrine of Derivation is not only accredited by its scientific origin and by its appealing to none butverifiable processes and agencies, but it affords an explanation for each and all of the above-mentioned phenomena.I think we may, therefore, without further ado, consignCH. IX. ] SPECIAL-CREATION, OR DERIVATION? 465the special- creation hypothesis to that limbo where hover theghosts of the slaughtered theories that were born of man'suntutored intelligence in early times. There we may let itabide, along with the vagaries of the astrologists, the doctrineof signatures, the archæus of Paracelsus, the elixir vita of thealchemists, and the theory of perpetual motion. The spacewhich we have here devoted to it is justified by the vividnesswith which the discussion has brought before us the contrastbetween mythology and science, between Anthropomorphismand Cosmism. But in the chapters which are to follow, thequestion of its merits or demerits will no longer concern us.

Front matter

OUTLINES OF COSMIC PHILOSOPHY.VOLUME I.

OUTLINES OF COSMIC PHILOSOPHYBASED ON THE DOCTRINE OF EVOLUTION,WITH CRITICISMS ON THE POSITIVEPHILOSOPHYBYJOHN FISKEL'univers, pour qui saurait l'embrasser d'un seul point de vue, ne serait, s'il est permis de le dire, qu'un fait unique et une grande vérité. - D'ALEMBERTΚαὶ τὸ ὅλον τοῦτο διὰ ταῦτα Κόσμον καλοῦσιν, οὐκ ἀκοσμίαν. — PLATOIN TWO VOLUMESVOLUME I.bien ou noDNEtem.The RiversideDressBOSTON AND NEW YORKHOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANYThe Riverside Press, CambridgeLIBRARYUNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIADAVISEntered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1874, byJOHN FISKE,In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.ΤοGEORGE LITCH ROBERTS,IN REMEMBRANCE OFTHE GOLDEN DAYS WHEN, WITH GENEROUS AIMS IN COMMONWE STUDIED PHILOSOPHY TOGETHER,AND IN CONSECRATION OF THE LIFELONG FRIENDSHIPWHICH HAS BEENAN UNFAILING SOURCE OF JOY AND STRENGTHTO US BOTH,I Dedicate this Book.