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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Essays: Scientific, Political, and

+Speculative; Vol. II of Three, by Herbert Spencer

+

+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most

+other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions

+whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of

+the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at

+www.gutenberg.org.  If you are not located in the United States, you'll have

+to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.

+

+

+

+Title: Essays: Scientific, Political, and Speculative; Vol. II of Three

+       Library Edition (1891), Containing Seven Essays not before

+       Republished, and Various other Additions.

+

+Author: Herbert Spencer

+

+Release Date: October 29, 2016 [EBook #53395]

+

+Language: English

+

+Character set encoding: UTF-8

+

+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ESSAYS: SCIENTIFIC ***

+

+

+

+

+Produced by Josep Cols Canals, Adrian Mastronardi, RichardW,

+and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at

+http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images

+generously made available by The Internet Archive/Canadian

+Libraries and Internet Archive/American Libraries.)

+

+

+

+

+

+

+

+

+

+ ESSAYS: SCIENTIFIC, POLITICAL, & SPECULATIVE.

+

+ BY

+ HERBERT SPENCER.

+

+ LIBRARY EDITION,

+

+ (otherwise fifth thousand,)

+

+ _Containing Seven Essays not before Republished,_

+ _and various other additions_.

+

+ VOL. II.

+

+ WILLIAMS AND NORGATE,

+ 14, HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN, LONDON;

+ AND 20, SOUTH FREDERICK STREET, EDINBURGH.

+

+ 1891.

+

+

+

+

+ LONDON:

+ G. NORMAN AND SON, PRINTERS, HART STREET,

+ COVENT GARDEN.

+

+

+

+

+CONTENTS OF VOL. II.

+

+

+                                                                    PAGE

+ THE GENESIS OF SCIENCE                                                1

+

+ THE CLASSIFICATION OF THE SCIENCES                                   74

+

+ REASONS FOR DISSENTING FROM THE PHILOSOPHY OF M. COMTE              118

+

+ ON LAWS IN GENERAL, AND THE ORDER OF THEIR DISCOVERY                145

+

+ THE VALUATION OF EVIDENCE                                           161

+

+ WHAT IS ELECTRICITY?                                                168

+

+ MILL _versus_ HAMILTON—THE TEST OF TRUTH                            188

+

+ REPLIES TO CRITICISMS                                               218

+

+ PROF. GREEN’S EXPLANATIONS                                          321

+

+ THE PHILOSOPHY OF STYLE                                             333

+

+ USE AND BEAUTY                                                      370

+

+ THE SOURCES OF ARCHITECTURAL TYPES                                  375

+

+ GRACEFULNESS                                                        381

+

+ PERSONAL BEAUTY                                                     387

+

+ THE ORIGIN AND FUNCTION OF MUSIC                                    400

+

+ THE PHYSIOLOGY OF LAUGHTER                                          452

+

+                  (_For Index, see Volume III._)

+

+

+

+

+{1}

+

+THE GENESIS OF SCIENCE.

+

+

+[_First published in_ The British Quarterly Review _for July 1854_.]

+

+There still prevails among men a vague notion that scientific knowledge

+differs in nature from ordinary knowledge. By the Greeks, with whom

+Mathematics—literally _things learnt_—was alone considered as knowledge

+proper, the distinction must have been strongly felt; and it has ever

+since maintained itself in the general mind. Though, considering

+the contrast between the achievements of science and those of daily

+unmethodic thinking, it is not surprising that such a distinction

+has been assumed; yet it needs but to rise a little above the common

+point of view, to see that it is but a superficial distinction. The

+same faculties are employed in both cases; and in both cases their

+mode of operation is fundamentally the same. If we say that science

+is organized knowledge, we are met by the truth that all knowledge is

+organized in a greater or less degree—that the commonest actions of

+the household and the field presuppose facts colligated, inferences

+drawn, results expected; and that the general success of these actions

+proves the data by which they were guided to have been correctly put

+together. If, again, we say that science is prevision—is a seeing

+beforehand—is a knowing in what {2} times, places, combinations,

+or sequences, specified phenomena will be found; we are obliged to

+confess that the definition includes much that is foreign to science

+in its ordinary acceptation: for example, a child’s knowledge of an

+apple. This, as far as it goes, consists in previsions. When a child

+sees a certain form and colours, it knows that if it puts out its

+hand it will have certain impressions of resistance, and roundness,

+and smoothness; and if it bites, a certain taste. And manifestly its

+general acquaintance with surrounding objects is of like nature—is

+made up of facts concerning them, grouped so that any part of a group

+being perceived, the existence of the other facts included in it is

+foreseen. If, once more, we say that science is _exact_ prevision,

+we still fail to establish the supposed difference. Not only do we

+find that much of what we call science is not exact, and that some of

+it, as physiology, can never become exact; but we find further, that

+many of the previsions constituting the common stock alike of wise

+and foolish, _are_ exact. That an unsupported body will fall; that a

+lighted candle will go out when immersed in water; that ice will melt

+when thrown on the fire—these, and many like predictions relating to

+the familiar properties of things, have as high a degree of accuracy as

+predictions are capable of. It is true that the results foreseen are of

+a very general character; but it is none the less true that they are

+correct as far as they go: and this is all that is requisite to fulfil

+the definition. There is perfect accordance between the anticipated

+phenomena and the actual ones; and no more than this can be said of the

+highest achievements of the sciences specially characterized as exact.

+

+Seeing thus that the assumed distinction between scientific knowledge

+and common knowledge cannot be sustained; and yet feeling, as we must,

+that however impossible it may be to draw a line between them, the two

+are not practically identical; there arises the question—What is the

+relationship {3} between them? A partial answer to this question may

+be drawn from the illustrations just given. On reconsidering them, it

+will be observed that those portions of ordinary knowledge which are

+identical in character with scientific knowledge, comprehend only such

+combinations of phenomena as are directly cognizable by the senses,

+and are of simple, invariable nature. That the smoke from a fire which

+she is lighting will ascend, and that the fire will presently boil

+the water placed over it, are previsions which the servant-girl makes

+equally well with the most learned physicist; but they are previsions

+concerning phenomena in constant and direct relation—phenomena that

+follow visibly and immediately after their antecedents—phenomena of

+which the causation is neither remote nor obscure—phenomena which may

+be predicted by the simplest possible act of reasoning. If, now, we

+pass to the previsions constituting science—that an eclipse of the

+moon will happen at a specified time; that when a barometer is taken

+to the top of a mountain of known height, the mercurial column will

+descend a stated number of inches; that the poles of a galvanic battery

+immersed in water will give off, the one an inflammable and the other

+an inflaming gas, in definite ratio—we perceive that the relations

+involved are not of a kind habitually presented to our senses. They

+depend, some of them, on special combinations of causes; and in some of

+them the connexion between antecedents and consequents is established

+only by an elaborate series of inferences. A broad distinction,

+therefore, between scientific knowledge and common knowledge is its

+remoteness from perception. If we regard the cases in their most

+general aspect, we see that the labourer who, on hearing certain notes

+in the adjacent hedge, can describe the particular form and colours

+of the bird making them, and the astronomer who, having calculated a

+transit of Venus, can delineate the black spot entering on the sun’s

+disc, as it will appear through the telescope, at a specified hour,

+do {4} essentially the same thing. Each knows that on fulfilling the

+requisite conditions, he shall have a preconceived impression—that

+after a definite series of actions will come a group of sensations of

+a foreknown kind. The difference, then, is neither in the fundamental

+character of the mental acts; nor in the correctness of the previsions

+accomplished by them; but in the complexity of the processes required

+to achieve the previsions. Much of our common knowledge is, as far

+as it goes, precise. Science does not increase its precision. What

+then does it do? It reduces other knowledge to the same degree of

+precision. That certainty which direct perception gives us respecting

+coexistences and sequences of the simplest and most accessible kind,

+science gives us respecting coexistences and sequences, complex in

+their dependencies, or inaccessible to immediate observation. In brief,

+regarded from this point of view, science may be called _an extension

+of the perceptions by means of reasoning_.

+

+On further considering the matter, however, it will perhaps be felt

+that this definition does not express the whole fact—that inseparable

+as science may be from common knowledge, and completely as we may fill

+up the gap between the simplest previsions of the child and the most

+recondite ones of the physicist, by interposing a series of previsions

+in which the complexity of reasoning involved is greater and greater,

+there is yet a difference between the two beyond that above described.

+And this is true. But the difference is still not such as enables us to

+draw the assumed line of demarcation. It is a difference not between

+common knowledge and scientific knowledge; but between the successive

+phases of science itself, or knowledge itself—whichever we choose to

+call it. In its earlier phases science attains only to _certainty_ of

+foresight; in its later phases it further attains to _completeness_.

+We begin by discovering _a_ relation; we end by discovering _the_

+relation. Our first achievement is to foretell the _kind_ {5} of

+phenomenon which will occur under specified conditions; our last

+achievement is to foretell not only the kind but the _amount_. Or, to

+reduce the proposition to its most definite form—undeveloped science is

+_qualitative_ prevision; developed science is _quantitative_ prevision.

+

+This will at once be perceived to express the remaining distinction

+between the lower and the higher stages of positive knowledge. The

+prediction that a piece of lead will take more force to lift it

+than a piece of wood of equal size, exhibits certainty, but not

+completeness, of foresight. The kind of effect in which the one body

+will exceed the other is foreseen; but not the amount by which it will

+exceed. There is qualitative prevision only. On the other hand, the

+predictions that at a stated time two particular planets will be in

+conjunction; that by means of a lever having arms in a given ratio, a

+known force will raise just so many pounds; that to decompose a given

+quantity of sulphate of iron by carbonate of soda will require so many

+grains—these predictions show foreknowledge, not only of the nature of

+the effects to be produced, but of the magnitude, either of the effects

+themselves, of the agencies producing them, or of the distance in time

+or space at which they will be produced. There is both qualitative

+provision and quantitative prevision. And this is the unexpressed

+difference which leads us to consider certain orders of knowledge as

+especially scientific when contrasted with knowledge in general. Are

+the phenomena _measurable_? is the test which we unconsciously employ.

+Space is measurable: hence Geometry. Force and space are measurable:

+hence Statics. Time, force, and space are measurable: hence Dynamics.

+The invention of the barometer enabled men to extend the principles

+of mechanics to the atmosphere; and Aerostatics existed. When a

+thermometer was devised there arose a science of heat, which was before

+impossible. Of such external agents as we have found no measures

+but our sensations {6} we have no sciences. We have no science of

+smells; nor have we one of tastes. We have a science of the relations

+of sounds differing in pitch, because we have discovered a way to

+measure these relations; but we have no science of sounds in respect to

+their loudness or their _timbre_, because we have got no measures of

+loudness and _timbre_. Obviously it is this reduction of the sensible

+phenomena it presents, to relations of magnitude, which gives to any

+division of knowledge its specially scientific character. Originally

+men’s knowledge of weights and forces was like their present knowledge

+of smells and tastes—a knowledge not extending beyond that given by

+the unaided sensations; and it remained so until weighing instruments

+and dynamometers were invented. Before there were hour-glasses and

+clepsydras, most phenomena could be estimated as to their durations

+and intervals, with no greater precision than degrees of hardness can

+be estimated by the fingers. Until a thermometric scale was contrived,

+men’s judgments respecting relative amounts of heat stood on the same

+footing with their present judgments respecting relative amounts of

+sound. And as in these initial stages, with no aids to observation,

+only the roughest comparisons of cases could be made, and only the most

+marked differences perceived, it resulted that only the most simple

+laws of dependence could be ascertained—only those laws which, being

+uncomplicated with others, and not disturbed in their manifestations,

+required no niceties of observation to disentangle them. Whence it

+appears not only that in proportion as knowledge becomes quantitative

+do its previsions become complete as well as certain, but that until

+its assumption of a quantitative character it is necessarily confined

+to the most elementary relations.

+

+Moreover it is to be remarked that while, on the one hand, we

+can discover the laws of the greater part of phenomena only by

+investigating them quantitatively; on the other hand we can extend

+the range of our quantitative {7} previsions only as fast as we

+detect the laws of the results we predict. For clearly the ability to

+specify the magnitude of a result inaccessible to direct measurement,

+implies knowledge of its mode of dependence on something which can be

+measured—implies that we know the particular fact dealt with to be

+an instance of some more general fact. Thus the extent to which our

+quantitative previsions have been carried in any direction, indicates

+the depth to which our knowledge reaches in that direction. And here,

+as another aspect of the same fact, it may be observed that as we pass

+from qualitative to quantitative prevision, we pass from inductive

+science to deductive science. Science while purely inductive is purely

+qualitative; when inaccurately quantitative it usually consists of

+part induction, part deduction; and it becomes accurately quantitative

+only when wholly deductive. We do not mean that the deductive and the

+quantitative are coextensive; for there is manifestly much deduction

+that is qualitative only. We mean that all quantitative prevision is

+reached deductively; and that induction can achieve only qualitative

+prevision.

+

+Still, however, it must not be supposed that these distinctions enable

+us to separate ordinary knowledge from science; much as they seem to

+do so. While they show in what consists the broad contrast between

+the extreme forms of the two, they yet lead us to recognize their

+essential identity, and once more prove the difference to be one of

+degree only. For, on the one hand, much of our common knowledge is

+to some extent quantitative; seeing that the amount of the foreseen

+result is known within certain wide limits. And, on the other hand,

+the highest quantitative prevision does not reach the exact truth, but

+only a near approach to it. Without clocks the savage knows that the

+day is longer in the summer than in the winter; without scales he knows

+that stone is heavier than flesh; that is, he can foresee respecting

+certain results that their amounts will exceed these, and be less than

+{8} those—he knows _about_ what they will be. And, with his most

+delicate instruments and most elaborate calculations, all that the man

+of science can do, is to reduce the difference between the foreseen and

+the actual results to an unimportant quantity. Moreover, it must be

+borne in mind not only that all the sciences are qualitative in their

+first stages,—not only that some of them, as Chemistry, have but lately

+reached the quantitative stage—but that the most advanced sciences

+have attained to their present power of determining quantities not

+present to the senses, or not directly measurable, by a slow process

+of improvement extending through thousands of years. So that science

+and the knowledge of the uncultured are alike in the nature of their

+previsions, widely as they differ in range; they possess a common

+imperfection, though this is immensely greater in the last than in the

+first; and the transition from the one to the other has been through a

+series of steps by which the imperfection has been rendered continually

+less, and the range continually wider.

+

+These facts, that science and ordinary knowledge are allied in

+nature, and that the one is but a perfected and extended form of the

+other, must necessarily underlie the whole theory of science, its

+progress, and the relations of its parts to each other. There must be

+incompleteness in any history of the sciences, which, leaving out of

+view the first steps of their genesis, commences with them only when

+they assume definite forms. There must be grave defects, if not a

+general untruth, in a philosophy of the sciences considered in their

+interdependence and development, which neglects the inquiry how they

+came to be distinct sciences, and how they were severally evolved

+out of the chaos of primitive ideas. Not only a direct consideration

+of the matter, but all analogy, goes to show that in the earlier and

+simpler stages must be sought the key to all subsequent intricacies.

+The time was when the anatomy and physiology of the human being were

+studied {9} by themselves—when the adult man was analyzed and the

+relations of parts and of functions investigated, without reference

+either to the relations exhibited in the embryo or to the homologous

+relations existing in other creatures. Now, however, it has become

+manifest that no true conceptions are possible under such conditions.

+Anatomists and physiologists find that the real natures of organs and

+tissues can be ascertained only by tracing their early evolution; and

+that the affinities between existing genera can be satisfactorily made

+out only by examining the fossil genera to which they are akin. Well,

+is it not clear that the like must be true concerning all things that

+undergo development? Is not science a growth? Has not science, too,

+its embryology? And must not the neglect of its embryology lead to a

+misunderstanding of the principles of its evolution and of its existing

+organization?

+

+There are _à priori_ reasons, therefore, for doubting the truth of all

+philosophies of the sciences which tacitly proceed upon the common

+notion that scientific knowledge and ordinary knowledge are separate;

+instead of commencing, as they should, by affiliating the one upon the

+other, and showing how it gradually came to be distinguishable from

+the other. We may expect to find their generalizations essentially

+artificial; and we shall not be deceived. Some illustrations of this

+may here be fitly introduced, by way of preliminary to a brief sketch

+of the genesis of science from the point of view indicated. And we

+cannot more readily find such illustrations than by glancing at a few

+of the various _classifications_ of the sciences that have from time to

+time been proposed. To consider all of them would take too much space:

+we must content ourselves with some of the latest.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Commencing with those which may be soonest disposed of, let us notice,

+first, the arrangement propounded by Oken. An abstract of it runs thus:―

+

+ Part I. MATHESIS.—_Pneumatogeny_: Primary Act, Primary

+ Consciousness, {10} God, Primary Rest, Time, Polarity, Motion, Man,

+ Space, Point, Line, Surface, Globe, Rotation.—_Hylogeny_: Gravity,

+ Matter, Ether, Heavenly Bodies, Light, Heat, Fire.

+

+   (He explains that MATHESIS is the doctrine of the whole;

+   _Pneumatogeny_ being the doctrine of immaterial totalities, and

+   _Hylogeny_ that of material totalities.)

+

+ Part II. ONTOLOGY.—_Cosmogeny_: Rest, Centre, Motion, Line,

+ Planets, Form, Planetary System, Comets.—_Stöchiogeny_: Condensation,

+ Simple Matter, Elements, Air, Water, Earth.—_Stöchiology_: Functions

+ of the Elements, &c. &c.—_Kingdoms of Nature_: Individuals.

+

+   (He says in explanation that ‘ONTOLOGY teaches

+   us the phenomena of matter. The first of these are the

+   heavenly bodies comprehended by _Cosmogeny_. These divide

+   into elements.—_Stöchiogeny._ The earth element divides

+   into minerals—_Mineralogy_. These unite into one collective

+   body—_Geogeny_. The whole in singulars is the living, or _Organic_,

+   which again divides into plants and animals. _Biology_, therefore,

+   divides into _Organogeny_, _Phytosophy_, _Zoosophy_.’)

+

+ FIRST KINGDOM.—MINERALS. _Mineralogy_,

+ _Geology_.

+

+ Part III. BIOLOGY.—_Organosophy_, _Phytogeny_,

+ _Phyto-physiology_, _Phytology_, _Zoogeny_, _Physiology_, _Zoology_,

+ _Psychology_.

+

+A glance over this confused scheme shows that it is an attempt to

+classify knowledge, not after the order in which it has been, or may

+be, built up in the human consciousness; but after an assumed order

+of creation. It is a pseudo-scientific cosmogony, akin to those which

+men have enunciated from the earliest times downwards; and only a

+little more respectable. As such it will not be thought worthy of much

+consideration by those who, like ourselves, hold that experience is

+the sole origin of knowledge. Otherwise, it might have been needful to

+dwell on the incongruities of the arrangement—to ask how motion can be

+treated of before space? how there can be rotation without matter to

+rotate? how polarity can be dealt with without involving points and

+lines? But it will serve our present purpose just to indicate a few of

+the absurdities resulting from the doctrine which Oken seems to hold in

+common with Hegel, that “to philosophize on Nature is to re-think the

+great thought of Creation.” Here is a sample:―

+

+“Mathematics is the universal science; so also is {11}

+Physio-philosophy, although it is only a part, or rather but a

+condition of the universe; both are one, or mutually congruent.

+

+“Mathematics is, however, a science of mere forms without substance.

+Physio-philosophy is, therefore, _mathematics endowed with substance_.”

+

+From the English point of view it is sufficiently amusing to find such

+a dogma not only gravely stated, but stated as an unquestionable truth.

+Here we see the experiences of quantitative relations which men have

+gathered from surrounding bodies and generalized (experiences which

+had been scarcely at all generalized at the beginning of the historic

+period)—we find these generalized experiences, these intellectual

+abstractions, elevated into concrete actualities, projected back

+into Nature, and considered as the internal frame-work of things—the

+skeleton by which matter is sustained. But this new form of the old

+realism, is by no means the most startling of the physio-philosophic

+principles. We presently read that,

+

+“The highest mathematical idea, or the fundamental principle of all

+mathematics is the zero = 0.” * * *

+

+“Zero is in itself nothing. Mathematics is based upon nothing, and,

+_consequently_, arises out of nothing.

+

+“Out of nothing, _therefore_, it is possible for something to arise;

+for mathematics, consisting of propositions, is a something in relation

+to 0.”

+

+By such “consequentlys” and “therefores” it is, that men philosophize

+when they “re-think the great thought of creation.” By dogmas that

+pretend to be reasons, nothing is made to generate mathematics; and by

+clothing mathematics with matter, we have the universe! If now we deny,

+as we _do_ deny, that the highest mathematical idea is the zero—if,

+on the other hand, we assert, as we _do_ assert, that the fundamental

+idea underlying all mathematics, is that of equality; the whole of

+Oken’s cosmogony disappears. And here, indeed, we may see illustrated,

+the distinctive peculiarity of the German method of procedure in these

+{12} matters—the bastard _à priori_ method, as it may be termed. The

+legitimate _à priori_ method sets out with propositions of which the

+negation is inconceivable; the _à priori_ method as illegitimately

+applied, sets out either with propositions of which the negation is

+_not_ inconceivable, or with propositions like Oken’s, of which the

+_affirmation_ is inconceivable.

+

+It is needless to proceed further with the analysis; else might we

+detail the steps by which Oken arrives at the conclusions that “the

+planets are coagulated colours, for they are coagulated light”; that

+“the sphere is the expanded nothing;” that gravity is “a weighty

+nothing, a heavy essence, striving towards a centre;” that “the earth

+is the identical, water the indifferent, air the different; or the

+first the centre, the second the radius, the last the periphery of the

+general globe or of fire.” To comment on them would be nearly as absurd

+as are the propositions themselves. Let us pass on to another of the

+German systems of knowledge—that of Hegel.

+

+The simple fact that Hegel puts Jacob Bœhme on a par with Bacon,

+suffices alone to show that his stand-point is far remote from the one

+usually regarded as scientific: so far remote, indeed, that it is not

+easy to find any common basis on which to found a criticism. Those who

+hold that the mind is moulded into conformity with surrounding things

+by the agency of surrounding things, are necessarily at a loss how to

+deal with those who, like Schelling and Hegel, assert that surrounding

+things are solidified mind—that Nature is “petrified intelligence.”

+However, let us briefly glance at Hegel’s classification. He divides

+philosophy into three parts:―

+

+1. _Logic_, or the science of the idea in itself, the pure idea.

+

+2. _The Philosophy of Nature_, or the science of the idea considered

+under its other form—of the idea as Nature.

+

+3. _The Philosophy of the Mind_, or the science of the idea in its

+return to itself.

+

+Of these, the second is divided into the natural sciences, {13}

+commonly so-called; so that in its more detailed form the series runs

+thus:—Logic, Mechanics, Physics, Organic Physics, Psychology.

+

+Now, if we believe with Hegel, first, that thought is the true essence

+of man; second, that thought is the essence of the world; and that,

+therefore, there is nothing but thought; his classification, beginning

+with the science of pure thought, may be acceptable. But otherwise, it

+is an obvious objection to his arrangement, that thought implies things

+thought of—that there can be no logical forms without the substance of

+experience—that the science of ideas and the science of things must

+have a simultaneous origin. Hegel, however, anticipates this objection,

+and, in his obstinate idealism, replies, that the contrary is true. He

+affirms that all contained in the forms, to become something, requires

+to be thought; and that logical forms are the foundations of all things.

+

+It is not surprising that, starting from such premises, and reasoning

+after this fashion, Hegel finds his way to strange conclusions. Out

+of _space_ and _time_ he proceeds to build up _motion_, _matter_,

+_repulsion_, _attraction_, _weight_, and _inertia_. He then goes on to

+logically evolve the solar system. In doing this he widely diverges

+from the Newtonian theory; reaches by syllogism the conviction that

+the planets are the most perfect celestial bodies; and, not being able

+to bring the stars within his theory, says that they are mere formal

+existences and not living matter, and that as compared with the solar

+system they are as little admirable as a cutaneous eruption or a swarm

+of flies.[1] Results so absurd might be left as self-disproved, were

+it not that speculators of this class are not alarmed by any amount

+of incongruity with established beliefs. The only efficient mode of

+treating systems like this of {14} Hegel, is to show that they are

+self-destructive—that by their first steps they ignore that authority

+on which all their subsequent steps depend. If Hegel professes, as he

+manifestly does, to develop his scheme by reasoning—if he presents

+successive inferences as _necessarily following_ from certain premises;

+he implies the postulate that a belief which necessarily follows after

+certain antecedents is a true belief; and did an opponent reply to one

+of his inferences that, though it was impossible to think the opposite,

+yet the opposite was true, he would consider the reply irrational. The

+procedure, however, which he would thus condemn as destructive of all

+thinking whatever, is just the procedure exhibited in the enunciation

+of his own first principles. Mankind find themselves unable to conceive

+that there can be thought without things thought of. Hegel, however,

+asserts that there _can_ be thought without things thought of. That

+ultimate test of a true proposition—the inability of the human mind

+to conceive the negation of it—which in all the successive steps of

+his arguments he considers valid, he considers invalid where it suits

+his convenience to do so; and yet at the same time denies the right

+of an opponent to follow his example. If it is competent for him to

+posit dogmas which are the direct negations of what human consciousness

+recognizes; then is it also competent for his antagonists to stop him

+at any moment by saying, that though the particular inference he is

+drawing seems to his mind, and to all minds, necessarily to follow

+from the premises, yet it is not true, but the contrary inference is

+true. Or, to state the dilemma in another form:—If he sets out with

+inconceivable propositions, then may he with equal propriety make

+all his succeeding propositions inconceivable ones—may at every step

+throughout his reasoning draw the opposite conclusion to that which

+seems involved.

+

+Hegel’s mode of procedure being thus essentially suicidal, the Hegelian

+classification which depends upon {15} it, falls to the ground. Let us

+consider next that of M. Comte.

+

+As all his readers must admit, M. Comte presents us with a scheme of

+the sciences which, unlike the foregoing ones, demands respectful

+consideration. Widely as we differ from him, we cheerfully bear witness

+to the largeness of his views, the clearness of his reasoning, and the

+value of his speculations as contributing to intellectual progress.

+Did we believe a serial arrangement of the sciences to be possible,

+that of M. Comte would certainly be the one we should adopt. His

+fundamental propositions are thoroughly intelligible; and, if not true,

+have a great semblance of truth. His successive steps are logically

+co-ordinated; and he supports his conclusions by a considerable amount

+of evidence—evidence which, so long as it is not critically examined,

+or not met by counter evidence, seems to substantiate his positions.

+But it only needs to assume that antagonistic attitude which _ought_

+to be assumed towards new doctrines, in the belief that, if true, they

+will prosper by conquering objectors—it needs but to test his leading

+doctrines either by other facts than those he cites, or by his own

+facts differently applied, to show that they will not stand. We will

+proceed thus to deal with the general principle on which he bases his

+hierarchy of the sciences.

+

+In the condensed translation of the _Positive Philosophy_, by Miss

+Martineau, M. Comte says:—“Our problem is, then, to find the one

+_rational_ order, amongst a host of possible systems.” . . “This order

+is determined by the degree of simplicity, or, what comes to the same

+thing, of generality of their phenomena.” And the arrangement he

+deduces runs thus:—_Mathematics_, _Astronomy_, _Physics_, _Chemistry_,

+_Physiology_, _Social Physics_. This he asserts to be “the true

+_filiation_ of the sciences.” He asserts further, that the principle

+of progression from a greater to a less degree of generality, “which

+gives this order to the whole body of science, arranges the parts of

+each science.” And, {16} finally, he asserts that the gradations

+thus established _à priori_ among the sciences and the parts of

+each science, “is in essential conformity with the order which has

+spontaneously taken place among the branches of natural philosophy;”

+or, in other words—corresponds with the order of historic development.

+

+Let us compare these assertions with the facts. That there may be

+perfect fairness, let us make no choice, but take as the field

+for our comparison, the succeeding section treating of the first

+science—Mathematics; and let us use none but M. Comte’s own facts,

+and his own admissions. Confining ourselves to this one science, we

+are limited to comparisons between its several parts. M. Comte says,

+that the parts of each science must be arranged in the order of their

+decreasing generality; and that this order of decreasing generality

+agrees with the order of historic development. Our inquiry will be,

+then, whether the history of mathematics confirms this statement.

+

+Carrying out his principle, M. Comte divides Mathematics into “Abstract

+Mathematics, or the Calculus (taking the word in its most extended

+sense) and Concrete Mathematics, which is composed of General Geometry

+and of Rational Mechanics.” The subject-matter of the first of these is

+_number_; the subject-matter of the second includes _space_, _time_,

+_motion_, _force_. The one possesses the highest possible degree of

+generality; for all things whatever admit of enumeration. The others

+are less general; seeing that there are endless phenomena that are

+not cognizable either by general geometry or rational mechanics. In

+conformity with the alleged law, therefore, the evolution of the

+calculus must throughout have preceded the evolution of the concrete

+sub-sciences. Now somewhat awkwardly for him, the first remark M. Comte

+makes bearing on this point is, that “from an historical point of view,

+mathematical analysis _appears to have arisen out of_ the contemplation

+of geometrical and mechanical facts.” True, he goes {17} on to say

+that, “it is not the less independent of these sciences logically

+speaking;” for that “analytical ideas are, above all others, universal,

+abstract, and simple; and geometrical conceptions are necessarily

+founded on them.” We will not take advantage of this last passage to

+charge M. Comte with teaching, after the fashion of Hegel, that there

+can be thought without things thought of. We are content simply to

+compare the assertion, that analysis arose out of the contemplation of

+geometrical and mechanical facts, with the assertion that geometrical

+conceptions are founded upon analytical ones. Literally interpreted

+they exactly cancel each other. Interpreted, however, in a liberal

+sense, they imply, what we believe to be demonstrable, that the two

+had _a simultaneous origin_. The passage is either nonsense, or it is

+an admission that abstract and concrete mathematics are coeval. Thus,

+at the very first step, the alleged congruity between the order of

+generality and the order of evolution, does not hold good.

+

+But may it not be that though abstract and concrete mathematics took

+their rise at the same time, the one afterwards developed more rapidly

+than the other; and has ever since remained in advance of it? No: and

+again we call M. Comte himself as witness. Fortunately for his argument

+he has said nothing respecting the early stages of the concrete and

+abstract divisions after their divergence from a common root; otherwise

+the advent of Algebra long after the Greek geometry had reached a high

+development, would have been an inconvenient fact for him to deal with.

+But passing over this, and limiting ourselves to his own statements,

+we find, at the opening of the next chapter, the admission, that “the

+historical development of the abstract portion of mathematical science

+has, since the time of Descartes, been for the most part _determined_

+by that of the concrete.” Further on we read respecting algebraic

+functions that “most functions were concrete in their origin—even

+those which are at present the most purely {18} abstract; and the

+ancients discovered only through geometrical definitions elementary

+algebraic properties of functions to which a numerical value was not

+attached till long afterwards, rendering abstract to us what was

+concrete to the old geometers.” How do these statements tally with

+his doctrine? Again, having divided the calculus into algebraic and

+arithmetical, M. Comte admits, as perforce he must, that the algebraic

+is more general than the arithmetical; yet he will not say that algebra

+preceded arithmetic in point of time. And again, having divided the

+calculus of functions into the calculus of direct functions (common

+algebra) and the calculus of indirect functions (transcendental

+analysis), he is obliged to speak of this last as possessing a higher

+generality than the first; yet it is far more modern. Indeed, by

+implication, M. Comte himself confesses this incongruity; for he

+says:—“It might seem that the transcendental analysis ought to be

+studied before the ordinary, as it provides the equations which the

+other has to resolve. But though the transcendental _is logically

+independent of the ordinary_, it is best to follow the usual method of

+study, taking the ordinary first.” In all these cases, then, as well as

+at the close of the section where he predicts that mathematicians will

+in time “create procedures of a _wider generality_,” M. Comte makes

+admissions that are diametrically opposed to the alleged law.

+

+In the succeeding chapters treating of the concrete department of

+mathematics, we find similar contradictions. M. Comte himself names the

+geometry of the ancients _special_ geometry and that of the moderns

+_general_ geometry. He admits that while “the ancients studied geometry

+with reference to the _bodies_ under notice, or specially; the moderns

+study it with reference to the _phenomena_ to be considered, or

+generally.” He admits that while “the ancients extracted all they could

+out of one line or surface before passing to another,” “the moderns,

+since Descartes, employ themselves on questions {19} which relate to

+any figure whatever.” These facts are the reverse of what, according

+to his theory, they should be. So, too, in mechanics. Before dividing

+it into statics and dynamics, M. Comte treats of the three laws of

+_motion_, and is obliged to do so; for statics, the more _general_ of

+the two divisions, though it does not involve motion, is impossible

+as a science until the laws of motion are ascertained. Yet the laws

+of motion pertain to dynamics, the more _special_ of the divisions.

+Further on he points out that after Archimedes, who discovered the

+law of equilibrium of the lever, statics made no progress until the

+establishment of dynamics enabled us to seek “the conditions of

+equilibrium through the laws of the composition of forces.” And he

+adds—“At this day _this is the method universally employed_. At the

+first glance it does not appear the most rational—dynamics being

+more complicated than statics, and precedence being natural to the

+simpler. It would, in fact, be more philosophical to refer dynamics to

+statics, as has since been done.” Sundry discoveries are afterwards

+detailed, showing how completely the development of statics has been

+achieved by considering its problems dynamically; and before the close

+of the section M. Comte remarks that “before hydrostatics could be

+comprehended under statics, it was necessary that the abstract theory

+of equilibrium should be made so general as to apply directly to fluids

+as well as solids. This was accomplished when Lagrange supplied, as

+the basis of the whole of rational mechanics, the single principle of

+virtual velocities.” In which statement we have two facts directly at

+variance with M. Comte’s doctrine;—first, that the simpler science,

+statics, reached its present development only by the aid of the

+principle of virtual velocities, which belongs to the more complex

+science, dynamics; and that this “single principle” underlying all

+rational mechanics—this _most general form_ which includes alike the

+relations of statical, {20} hydrostatical, and dynamical forces—was

+reached so late as the time of Lagrange.

+

+Thus it is _not_ true that the historical succession of the divisions

+of mathematics has corresponded with the order of decreasing

+generality. It is _not_ true that abstract mathematics was evolved

+antecedently to, and independently of, concrete mathematics. It is

+_not_ true that of the subdivisions of abstract mathematics, the

+more general came before the more special. And it is _not_ true that

+concrete mathematics, in either of its two sections, began with the

+most abstract and advanced to the less abstract truths.

+

+It may be well to mention, parenthetically, that, in defending his

+alleged law of progression from the general to the special, M. Comte

+somewhere comments upon the two meanings of the word _general_, and

+the resulting liability to confusion. Without now discussing whether

+the asserted distinction exists in other cases, it is manifest that

+it does not exist here. In sundry of the instances above quoted, the

+endeavours made by M. Comte himself to disguise, or to explain away,

+the precedence of the special over the general, clearly indicate that

+the generality spoken of is of the kind meant by his formula. And it

+needs but a brief consideration of the matter to show that, even did he

+attempt it, he could not distinguish this generality which, as above

+proved, frequently comes last, from the generality which he says always

+comes first. For what is the nature of that mental process by which

+objects, dimensions, weights, times, and the rest, are found capable

+of having their relations expressed numerically? It is the formation

+of certain abstract conceptions of unity, duality, and multiplicity,

+which are applicable to all things alike. It is the invention of

+general symbols serving to express the numerical relations of entities,

+whatever be their special characters. And what is the nature of the

+mental process by which numbers are found capable of having their

+relations expressed algebraically? It is the same. {21} It is the

+formation of certain abstract conceptions of numerical functions which

+are constant whatever be the magnitudes of the numbers. It is the

+invention of general symbols serving to express the relations between

+numbers, as numbers express the relations between things. Just as

+arithmetic deals with the common properties of lines, areas, bulks,

+forces, periods; so does algebra deal with the common properties of the

+numbers which arithmetic presents.

+

+Having shown that M. Comte’s alleged law of progression does not hold

+among the several parts of the same science, let us see how it agrees

+with the facts when applied to the separate sciences. “Astronomy,”

+says M. Comte (_Positive Philosophy_, Book III.), “was a positive

+science, in its geometrical aspect, from the earliest days of the

+school of Alexandria; but Physics, which we are now to consider, had

+no positive character at all till Galileo made his great discoveries

+on the fall of heavy bodies.” On this, our comment is simply that

+it is a misrepresentation based upon an arbitrary misuse of words—a

+mere verbal artifice. By choosing to exclude from terrestrial physics

+those laws of magnitude, motion, and position, which he includes in

+celestial physics, M. Comte makes it appear that the last owes nothing

+to the first. Not only is this unwarrantable, but it is radically

+inconsistent with his own scheme of divisions. At the outset he

+says—and as the point is important we quote from the original—“Pour

+la _physique inorganique_ nous voyons d’abord, en nous conformant

+toujours à l’ordre de généralité et de dépendance des phénomènes,

+qu’elle doit être partagée en deux sections distinctes, suivant qu’elle

+considère les phénomènes généraux de l’univers, ou, en particulier,

+ceux que présentent les corps terrestres. D’où la physique céleste,

+ou l’astronomie, soit géométrique, soit mechanique; et la physique

+terrestre.” Here then we have _inorganic physics_ clearly divided into

+_celestial physics_ and _terrestrial physics_—the phenomena presented

+by the universe, and the {22} phenomena presented by earthly bodies.

+If now celestial bodies and terrestrial bodies exhibit sundry leading

+phenomena in common, as they do, how can the generalization of these

+common phenomena be considered as pertaining to the one class rather

+than to the other? If inorganic physics includes geometry (which M.

+Comte has made it do by comprehending _geometrical_ astronomy in

+its sub-section, celestial physics); and if its other sub-section,

+terrestrial physics, treats of things having geometrical properties;

+how can the laws of geometrical relations be excluded from terrestrial

+physics? Clearly if celestial physics includes the geometry of

+objects in the heavens, terrestrial physics includes the geometry of

+objects on the earth. And if terrestrial physics includes terrestrial

+geometry, while celestial physics includes celestial geometry, then

+the geometrical part of terrestrial physics precedes the geometrical

+part of celestial physics; seeing that geometry gained its first

+ideas from surrounding objects. Until men had learnt geometrical

+relations from bodies on the earth, it was impossible for them to

+understand the geometrical relations of bodies in the heavens. So,

+too, with celestial mechanics, which had terrestrial mechanics for its

+parent. The very conception of _force_, which underlies the whole of

+mechanical astronomy, is borrowed from our earthly experiences; and

+the leading laws of mechanical action as exhibited in scales, levers,

+projectiles, &c., had to be ascertained before the dynamics of the

+Solar System could be entered upon. What were the laws made use of by

+Newton in working out his grand discovery? The law of falling bodies

+disclosed by Galileo; that of the composition of forces also disclosed

+by Galileo; and that of centrifugal force found out by Huyghens—all

+of them generalizations of terrestrial physics. Yet, with facts like

+these before him, M. Comte places astronomy before physics in order

+of evolution! He does not compare the geometrical parts of the two

+together, and the mechanical parts of the two {23} together; for this

+would by no means suit his hypothesis. But he compares the geometrical

+part of the one with the mechanical part of the other, and so gives

+a semblance of truth to his position. He is led away by a verbal

+illusion. Had he confined his attention to the things and disregarded

+the words, he would have seen that before mankind scientifically

+co-ordinated _any one class of phenomena_ displayed in the heavens,

+they had previously co-ordinated _a parallel class of phenomena_

+displayed on the surface of the earth.

+

+Were it needful we could fill a score pages with the incongruities

+of M. Comte’s scheme. But the foregoing samples will suffice. So far

+is his law of evolution of the sciences from being tenable, that, by

+following his example, and arbitrarily ignoring one class of facts,

+it would be possible to present, with great plausibility, just the

+opposite generalization to that which he enunciates. While he asserts

+that the rational order of the sciences, like the order of their

+historic development, “is determined by the degree of simplicity, or,

+what comes to the same thing, of generality of their phenomena;” it

+might contrariwise be asserted that, commencing with the complex and

+the special, mankind have progressed step by step to a knowledge of

+greater simplicity and wider generality. So much evidence is there of

+this as to have drawn from Whewell, in his _History of the Inductive

+Sciences_, the remark that “the reader has already seen repeatedly

+in the course of this history, complex and derivative principles

+presenting themselves to men’s minds before simple and elementary

+ones.” Even from M. Comte’s own work, numerous facts, admissions, and

+arguments, might be picked out, tending to show this. We have already

+quoted his words in proof that both abstract and concrete mathematics

+have progressed towards a higher degree of generality, and that he

+looks forward to a higher generality still. Just to strengthen this

+adverse hypothesis, let us take a further instance. {24} From the

+_particular_ case of the scales, the law of equilibrium of which was

+familiar to the earliest nations known, Archimedes advanced to the

+more _general_ case of the lever of which the arms may or may not be

+equal; the law of equilibrium of which _includes_ that of the scales.

+By the help of Galileo’s discovery concerning the composition of

+forces, D’Alembert “established, for the first time, the equations

+of equilibrium of _any_ system of forces applied to the different

+points of a solid body”—equations which include all cases of levers

+and an infinity of cases besides. Clearly this is progress towards

+a higher generality—towards a knowledge more independent of special

+circumstances—towards a study of phenomena “the most disengaged from

+the incidents of particular cases;” which is M. Comte’s definition

+of “the most simple phenomena.” Does it not indeed follow from the

+admitted fact, that mental advance is from the concrete to the

+abstract, from the particular to the general, that the universal and

+therefore most simple truths are the last to be discovered? Should we

+ever succeed in reducing all orders of phenomena to some single law—say

+of atomic action, as M. Comte suggests—must not that law answer to his

+test of being _independent_ of all others, and therefore most simple?

+And would not such a law generalize the phenomena of gravity, cohesion,

+atomic affinity, and electric repulsion, just as the laws of number

+generalize the quantitative phenomena of space, time and force?

+

+The possibility of saying so much in support of an hypothesis the very

+reverse of M. Comte’s, at once proves that his generalization is only a

+half-truth. The fact is that neither proposition is correct by itself;

+and the actuality is expressed only by putting the two together. The

+progress of science is duplex. It is at once from the special to the

+general, and from the general to the special. It is analytical and

+synthetical at the same time.

+

+M. Comte himself observes that the evolution of science {25} has been

+accomplished by the division of labour; but he quite misstates the

+mode in which this division of labour has operated. As he describes

+it, it has been simply an arrangement of phenomena into classes, and

+the study of each class by itself. He does not recognize the effect of

+progress in each class upon _all_ other classes: he recognizes only

+the effect on the class succeeding it in his hierarchical scale. Or if

+he occasionally admits collateral influences and intercommunications,

+he does it so grudgingly, and so quickly puts the admissions out of

+sight and forgets them, as to leave the impression that, with but

+trifling exceptions, the sciences aid one another only in the order

+of their alleged succession. The fact is, however, that the division

+of labour in science, like the division of labour in society, and

+like the “physiological division of labour” in individual organisms,

+has been not only a specialization of functions, but a continuous

+helping of each division by all the others, and of all by each. Every

+particular class of inquirers has, as it were, secreted its own

+particular order of truths from the general mass of material which

+observation accumulates; and all other classes of inquirers have made

+use of these truths as fast as they were elaborated, with the effect

+of enabling them the better to elaborate each its own order of truths.

+It was thus in sundry of the cases we have quoted as at variance with

+M. Comte’s doctrine. It was thus with the application of Huyghens’s

+optical discovery to astronomical observation by Galileo. It was thus

+with the application of the isochronism of the pendulum to the making

+of instruments for measuring intervals, astronomical and other. It was

+thus when the discovery that the refraction and dispersion of light

+did not follow the same law of variation, affected both astronomy and

+physiology by giving us achromatic telescopes and microscopes. It

+was thus when Bradley’s discovery of the aberration of light enabled

+him to make the first step towards ascertaining the motions of the

+stars. {26} It was thus when Cavendish’s torsion-balance experiment

+determined the specific gravity of the Earth, and so gave a datum for

+calculating the specific gravities of the Sun and Planets. It was

+thus when tables of atmospheric refraction enabled observers to write

+down the real places of the heavenly bodies instead of their apparent

+places. It was thus when the discovery of the different expansibilities

+of metals by heat, gave us the means of correcting our chronometrical

+measurements of astronomical periods. It was thus when the lines of

+the prismatic spectrum were used to distinguish the heavenly bodies

+that are of like nature with the sun from those which are not. It was

+thus when, as recently, an electro-telegraphic instrument was invented

+for the more accurate registration of meridional transits. It was

+thus when the difference in the rates of a clock at the equator, and

+nearer the poles, gave data for calculating the oblateness of the

+earth, and accounting for the precession of the equinoxes. It was

+thus—but it is needless to continue. Here, within our own limited

+knowledge of its history, we have named ten additional cases in which

+the single science of astronomy has owed its advance to sciences

+coming _after_ it in M. Comte’s series. Not only its minor changes,

+but its greatest revolutions have been thus determined. Kepler could

+not have discovered his celebrated laws had it not been for Tycho

+Brahe’s accurate observations; and it was only after some progress

+in physical and chemical science that the improved instruments with

+which those observations were made, became possible. The heliocentric

+theory of the Solar System had to wait until the invention of the

+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 on the

+Earth’s surface. So completely, indeed, did it thus depend, that Newton

+_had actually abandoned his hypothesis_ because the {27} length of

+a degree, as then stated, brought out wrong results; and it was only

+after Picart’s more exact measurement was published, that he returned

+to his calculations and proved his great generalization. Now this

+constant intercommunion which, for brevity’s sake, we have illustrated

+in the case of one science only, has been taking place with all the

+sciences. Throughout the whole course of their evolution there has been

+a continuous _consensus_ of the sciences—a _consensus_ exhibiting a

+general correspondence with the _consensus_ of the faculties in each

+phase of mental development; the one being an objective registry of the

+subjective state of the other.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+From our present point of view, then, it becomes obvious that the

+conception of a _serial_ arrangement of the sciences is a vicious one.

+It is not simply that, as M. Comte admits, such a classification “will

+always involve something, if not arbitrary, at least artificial;” it is

+not, as he would have us believe, that, neglecting minor imperfections

+such a classification may be substantially true; but it is that any

+grouping of the sciences in a succession gives a radically erroneous

+idea of their genesis and their dependencies. There is no “one

+_rational_ order among a host of possible systems.” There is no “true

+_filiation_ of the sciences.” The whole hypothesis is fundamentally

+false. Indeed, it needs but a glance at its origin to see at once how

+baseless it is. Why a _series_? What reason have we to suppose that

+the sciences admit of a _linear_ arrangement? Where is our warrant

+for assuming that there is some _succession_ in which they can be

+placed? There is no reason; no warrant. Whence then has arisen the

+supposition? To use M. Comte’s own phraseology, we should say, it is

+a metaphysical conception. It adds another to the cases constantly

+occurring, of the human mind being made the measure of Nature. We are

+obliged to think in sequence; it is a law of our minds that we must

+consider subjects separately, one after another: _therefore_ {28}

+Nature must be serial—_therefore_ the sciences must be classifiable in

+a succession. See here the birth of the notion, and the sole evidence

+of its truth. Men have been obliged when arranging in books their

+schemes of education and systems of knowledge, to choose _some_ order

+or other. And from inquiring what is the best order, have fallen into

+the belief that there is an order which truly represents the facts—have

+persevered in seeking such an order; quite overlooking the previous

+question whether it is likely that Nature has consulted the convenience

+of book-making. For German philosophers, who hold that Nature is

+“petrified intelligence,” and that logical forms are the foundations of

+all things, it is a consistent hypothesis that as thought is serial,

+Nature is serial; but that M. Comte, who is so bitter an opponent

+of all anthropomorphism, even in its most evanescent shapes, should

+have committed the mistake of imposing upon the external world an

+arrangement which so obviously springs from a limitation of the human

+consciousness, is somewhat strange. And it is the more strange when

+we call to mind how, at the outset, M. Comte remarks that in the

+beginning “_toutes les sciences sont cultivées simultanément par les

+mêmes esprits_;” that this is “_inevitable et même indispensable_;”

+and how he further remarks that the different sciences are “_comme les

+diverses branches d’un tronc unique_.” Were it not accounted for by the

+distorting influence of a cherished hypothesis, it would be scarcely

+possible to understand how, after recognizing truths like these, M.

+Comte should have persisted in attempting to construct “_une échelle

+encyclopédique_.”

+

+The metaphor which M. Comte has here so inconsistently used to express

+the relations of the sciences—branches of one trunk—is an approximation

+to the truth, though not the truth itself. It suggests the facts that

+the sciences had a common origin; that they have been developing

+simultaneously; and that they have been from time to time dividing

+and sub-dividing. But it fails to suggest the fact, that the {29}

+divisions and sub-divisions thus arising do not remain separate, but

+now and again re-unite in direct and indirect ways. They inosculate;

+they severally send off and receive connecting growths; and the

+intercommunion has been ever becoming more frequent, more intricate,

+more widely ramified. There has all along been higher specialization,

+that there might be a larger generalization; and a deeper analysis,

+that there might be a better synthesis. Each larger generalization has

+lifted sundry specializations still higher; and each better synthesis

+has prepared the way for still deeper analysis.

+

+And here we may fitly enter upon the task awhile since indicated—a

+sketch of the Genesis of Science, regarded as a gradual outgrowth

+from common knowledge—an extension of the perceptions by the aid

+of the reason. We propose to treat it as a psychological process

+historically displayed; tracing at the same time the advance from

+qualitative to quantitative prevision; the progress from concrete facts

+to abstract facts, and the application of such abstract facts to the

+analysis of new orders of concrete facts; the simultaneous advance

+in generalization and specialization; the continually increasing

+subdivision and reunion of the sciences; and their constantly improving

+_consensus_.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+To trace out scientific evolution from its deepest roots would, of

+course, involve a complete analysis of the mind. For as science is a

+development of that common knowledge acquired by the unaided senses and

+uncultured reason, so is that common knowledge itself gradually built

+up out of the simplest perceptions. We must, therefore, begin somewhere

+abruptly; and the most appropriate stage to take for our point of

+departure will be the adult mind of the savage.

+

+Commencing thus, without a proper preliminary analysis, we are

+naturally somewhat at a loss how to present, in a satisfactory manner,

+those fundamental processes of thought out of which science originates.

+Perhaps our argument may {30} be best initiated by the proposition,

+that all intelligent action whatever depends upon the discerning of

+distinctions among surrounding things. The condition under which only

+it is possible for any creature to obtain food and avoid danger, is,

+that it shall be differently affected by different objects—that it

+shall be led to act in one way by one object, and in another way by

+another. In the lower orders of creatures this condition is fulfilled

+by means of an apparatus which acts automatically. In the higher

+orders the actions are partly automatic, partly conscious. And in man

+they are almost wholly conscious. Throughout, however, there must

+necessarily exist a certain classification of things according to their

+properties—a classification which is either organically registered in

+the system, as in the inferior creation, or is formed by conscious

+experience, as in ourselves. And it may be further remarked, that the

+extent to which this classification is carried, roughly indicates the

+height of intelligence—that, while the lowest organisms are able to

+do little more than discriminate organic from inorganic matter; while

+the generality of animals carry their classifications no further than

+to a limited number of plants or creatures serving for food, a limited

+number of beasts of prey, and a limited number of places and materials;

+the most degraded of the human race possess a knowledge of the

+distinctive natures of a great variety of substances, plants, animals,

+tools, persons, &c.; not only as classes but as individuals.

+

+What now is the mental process by which classification is effected?

+Manifestly it is a recognition of the _likeness_ or _unlikeness_ of

+things, either in respect of their sizes, colours, forms, weights,

+textures, tastes, &c., or in respect of their modes of action. By

+some special mark, sound, or motion, the savage identifies a certain

+four-legged creature he sees, as one that is good for food, and to

+be caught in a particular way; or as one that is dangerous; and acts

+accordingly. He has classed together all the creatures that are

+_alike_ in {31} this particular. And manifestly in choosing the wood

+out of which to form his bow, the plant with which to poison his

+arrows, the bone from which to make his fish-hooks, he identifies them

+through their chief sensible properties as belonging to the general

+classes, wood, plant, and bone, but distinguishes them as belonging to

+sub-classes by virtue of certain properties in which they are _unlike_

+the rest of the general classes they belong to; and so forms genera and

+species.

+

+And here it becomes manifest that not only is classification carried

+on by grouping together in the mind things that are _like_; but

+that classes and sub-classes are formed and arranged according to

+the _degrees of unlikeness_. Things strongly contrasted are alone

+distinguished in the lower stages of mental evolution; as may be

+any day observed in an infant. And gradually as the powers of

+discrimination increase, the strongly-contrasted classes at first

+distinguished, come to be each divided into sub-classes, differing

+from each other less than the classes differ; and these sub-classes

+are again divided after the same manner. By the continuance of which

+process, things are gradually arranged into groups, the members of

+which are less and less _unlike_; ending, finally, in groups whose

+members differ only as individuals, and not specifically. And thus

+there tends ultimately to arise the notion of _complete likeness_.

+For manifestly, it is impossible that groups should continue to be

+subdivided in virtue of smaller and smaller differences, without there

+being a simultaneous approximation to the notion of _no difference_.

+

+Let us next notice that the recognition of likeness and unlikeness,

+which underlies classification, and out of which continued

+classification evolves the idea of complete likeness—let us next notice

+that it also underlies the process of _naming_, and by consequence

+_language_. For all language consists, at the outset, of symbols

+which are as _like_ to the things symbolized as it is practicable to

+make them. The {32} language of signs is a means of conveying ideas

+by mimicking the actions or peculiarities of the things referred to.

+Verbal language also, in its first stage, is a mode of suggesting

+objects or acts by imitating the sounds which the objects make, or

+with which the acts are accompanied. Originally these two languages

+were used simultaneously. It needs but to watch the gesticulations

+with which the savage accompanies his speech—to see a Bushman

+dramatizing before an audience his mode of catching game—or to note

+the extreme paucity of words in primitive vocabularies; to infer that

+in the beginning, attitudes, gestures, and sounds, were all combined

+to produce as good a _likeness_ as possible of the things, animals,

+persons, or events described; and that as the sounds came to be

+understood by themselves the gestures fell into disuse: leaving traces,

+however, in the manners of the more excitable civilized races. But be

+this as it may, it suffices simply to observe, how many of the words

+current among barbarous peoples are like the sounds appertaining to the

+things signified; how many of our own oldest and simplest words have

+the same peculiarity; how children habitually invent imitative words;

+and how the sign-language spontaneously formed by deaf mutes is based

+on imitative actions—to be convinced that the notion of _likeness_

+is that from which the nomenclature of objects takes its rise. Were

+there space we might go on to point out how this law of likeness is

+traceable, not only in the origin but in the development of language;

+how in primitive tongues the plural is made by a duplication of the

+singular, which is a multiplication of the word to make it _like_ the

+multiplicity of the things; how the use of metaphor—that prolific

+source of new words—is a suggesting of ideas which are _like_ the ideas

+to be conveyed in some respect or other; and how, in the copious use

+of simile, fable, and allegory among uncivilized races, we see that

+complex conceptions which there is no direct language for, are {33}

+rendered, by presenting known conceptions more or less _like_ them.

+

+This view is confirmed, and the predominance of this notion of likeness

+in primitive thought further illustrated, by the fact that our system

+of presenting ideas to the eye originated after the same fashion.

+Writing and printing have descended from picture-language. The earliest

+mode of permanently registering a fact was by depicting it on a skin

+and afterwards on a wall; that is—by exhibiting something as _like_

+to the thing to be remembered as it could be made. Gradually as the

+practice grew habitual and extensive, the most frequently repeated

+forms became fixed, and presently abbreviated; and, passing through

+the hieroglyphic and ideographic phases, the symbols lost all apparent

+relation to the things signified: just as the majority of our spoken

+words have done.

+

+Observe, again, that the same thing is true respecting the genesis of

+reasoning. The _likeness_ which is perceived to exist between cases,

+is the essence of all early reasoning and of much of our present

+reasoning. The savage, having by experience discovered a relation

+between a certain object and a certain act, infers that the _like_

+relation will be found in future. And the expressions we use in our

+arguments—“_analogy_ implies,” “the cases are not _parallel_,” “by

+_parity_ of reasoning,” “there is no _similarity_,”—show how constantly

+the idea of likeness underlies our ratiocinative processes. Still

+more clearly will this be seen on recognizing the fact that there is

+a close connexion between reasoning and classification; that the two

+have a common root; and that neither can go on without the other. For

+on the one hand, it is a familiar truth that the attributing to a body

+in consequence of some of its properties, all those other properties

+in virtue of which it is referred to a particular class, is an act of

+inference. And, on the other hand, the forming of a generalization

+is the putting together in one class, all those {34} cases which

+present like relations; while the drawing a deduction is essentially

+the perception that a particular case belongs to a certain class 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. Add to which, that while the perfection

+gradually achieved in classification consists in the formation of

+groups of _objects_ which are _completely alike_; the perfection

+gradually achieved in reasoning consists in the formation of groups of

+_cases_ which are _completely alike_.

+

+Once more we may contemplate this dominant idea of likeness as

+exhibited in art. All art, civilized as well as savage, consists

+almost wholly in the making of objects _like_ other objects; either

+as found in Nature, or as produced by previous art. If we trace back

+the varied art-products now existing, we find that at each stage the

+divergence from previous patterns is but small when compared with the

+agreement; and in the earliest art the persistency of imitation is yet

+more conspicuous. The old forms and ornaments and symbols were held

+sacred, and perpetually copied. Indeed, the strong imitative tendency

+notoriously displayed by the lowest human races—often seeming to be

+half automatic, ensures among them a constant reproducing of likenesses

+of things, forms, signs, sounds, actions and whatever else is imitable;

+and we may even suspect that this aboriginal peculiarity is in some way

+connected with the culture and development of this general conception,

+which we have found so deep and wide-spread in its applications.

+

+And now let us go on to consider how, by a further unfolding of this

+same fundamental notion, there is a gradual formation of the first

+germs of science. This idea of likeness which underlies classification,

+nomenclature, language spoken and written, reasoning, and art; and

+which plays so important a part because all acts of intelligence are

+made {35} possible only by distinguishing among surrounding things, or

+grouping them into like and unlike;—this idea we shall find to be the

+one of which science is the especial product. Already during the stage

+we have been describing, there has existed _qualitative_ prevision in

+respect to the commoner phenomena with which savage life is familiar;

+and we have now to inquire how the elements of _quantitative_ prevision

+are evolved. We shall find that they originate by the perfecting of

+this same idea of likeness—that they have their rise in that conception

+of _complete likeness_ which, as we have seen, necessarily results from

+the continued process of classification.

+

+For when the process of classification has been carried as far as it

+is possible for the uncivilized to carry it—when the animal kingdom

+has been grouped not merely into quadrupeds, birds, fishes, and

+insects, but each of these divided into kinds—when there come to be

+classes, in each of which the members differ only as individuals,

+and not specifically; it is clear that there must frequently

+occur an observation of objects which differ so little as to be

+indistinguishable. Among several creatures which the savage has killed

+and carried home, it must often happen that some one, which he wished

+to identify, is so exactly like another that he cannot tell which is

+which. Thus, then, there originates the notion of _equality_. The

+things which among ourselves are called _equal_—whether lines, angles,

+weights, temperatures, sounds or colours—are things which produce in us

+sensations which cannot be distinguished from each other. It is true

+that we now apply the word _equal_ chiefly to the separate traits or

+relations which objects exhibit, and not to those combinations of them

+constituting our conceptions of the objects; but this limitation of

+the idea has evidently arisen by analysis. That the notion of equality

+originated as alleged, will, we think, become obvious on remembering

+that as there were no artificial objects from which it could have been

+{36} abstracted, it must have been abstracted from natural objects;

+and that the various families of the animal kingdom chiefly furnish

+those natural objects which display the requisite exactitude of

+likeness.

+

+The experiences out of which this general idea of equality is evolved,

+give birth at the same time to a more complex idea of equality; or,

+rather, the process just described generates an idea of equality which

+further experience separates into two ideas—_equality of things_ and

+_equality of relations_. While organic forms occasionally exhibit this

+perfection of likeness out of which the notion of simple equality

+arises, they more frequently exhibit only that kind of likeness which

+we call _similarity_; and which is really compound equality. For the

+similarity of two creatures of the same species but of different sizes,

+is of the same nature as the similarity of two geometrical figures.

+In either case, any two parts of the one bear the same ratio to one

+another, as the homologous parts of the other. Given in a species, the

+proportions found to exist among the bones, and we may, and zoologists

+do, predict from any one, the dimensions of the rest; just as, when

+knowing the proportions subsisting among the parts of a geometrical

+figure, we may, from the length of one, calculate the others. And

+if, in the case of similar geometrical figures, the similarity can

+be established only by proving exactness of proportion among the

+homologous parts—if we express this relation between two parts in the

+one, and the corresponding parts in the other, by the formula A is

+to B as _a_ is to _b_; if we otherwise write this, A to B = _a_ to

+_b_; if, consequently, the fact we prove is that the relation of A to

+B _equals_ the relation of _a_ to _b_; then it is manifest that the

+fundamental conception of similarity is _equality of relations_. With

+this explanation we shall be understood when we say that the notion

+of equality of relations is the basis of all exact reasoning. Already

+it has been shown that reasoning in general is a recognition {37} of

+_likeness_ of relations; and here we further find that while the notion

+of likeness of things ultimately evolves the idea of simple equality,

+the notion of likeness of relations evolves the idea of equality of

+relations: of which the one is the concrete germ of exact science,

+while the other is its abstract germ. Those who cannot understand

+how the recognition of similarity in creatures of the same kind,

+can have any alliance with reasoning, will get over the difficulty

+on remembering that the phenomena among which equality of relations

+is thus perceived, are phenomena of the same order and are present

+to the senses at the same time; while those among which developed

+reason perceives relations, are generally neither of the same order,

+nor simultaneously present. And if, further, they will call to mind

+how Cuvier and Owen, from a single part of a creature, as a tooth,

+construct the rest by a process of reasoning based on this equality of

+relations, they will see that the two things are intimately connected,

+remote as they at first seem. But we anticipate. What it concerns us

+here to observe is, that from familiarity with organic forms there

+simultaneously arose the ideas of _simple equality_, and _equality of

+relations_.

+

+At the same time, too, and out of the same mental processes, came

+the first distinct ideas of _number_. In the earliest stages, the

+presentation of several like objects produced merely an indefinite

+conception of multiplicity; as it still does among Australians, and

+Bushmen, and Damaras, when the number presented exceeds three or four.

+With such a fact before us we may safely infer that the first clear

+numerical conception was that of duality as contrasted with unity. And

+this notion of duality must necessarily have grown up side by side

+with those of likeness and equality; seeing that it is impossible to

+recognize the likeness of two things without also perceiving that

+there are two. From the very beginning the conception of number must

+have been, as it is still, associated with {38} likeness or equality

+of the things numbered; and for the purposes of calculation, an ideal

+equality of the things is assumed. Before any _absolutely true_

+numerical results can be reached, it is requisite that the units be

+_absolutely equal_. The only way in which we can establish a numerical

+relationship between things that do not yield us like impressions, is

+to divide them into parts that _do_ yield us like impressions. Two

+unlike magnitudes of extension, force, time, weight, or what not, can

+have their relative amounts estimated, only by means of some small unit

+that is contained many times in both; and even if we finally write down

+the greater one as a unit and the other as a fraction of it, we state,

+in the denominator of the fraction, the number of parts into which

+the unit must be divided to be comparable with the fraction. It is,

+indeed, true, that by a modern process of abstraction, we occasionally

+apply numbers to unequal units, as the furniture at a sale or the

+various animals on a farm, simply as so many separate entities; but

+no exact quantitative result can be brought out by calculation with

+units of this order. And, indeed, it is the distinctive peculiarity

+of the calculus in general, that it proceeds on the hypothesis of

+that absolute equality of its abstract units, which no real units

+possess; and that the exactness of its results holds only in virtue of

+this hypothesis. The first ideas of number must necessarily then have

+been derived from like or equal magnitudes as seen chiefly in organic

+objects; and as the like magnitudes most frequently observed were

+magnitudes of extension, it follows that geometry and arithmetic had a

+simultaneous origin.

+

+Not only are the first distinct ideas of number co-ordinate with ideas

+of likeness and equality, but the first efforts at numeration display

+the same relationship. On reading accounts of savage tribes, we find

+that the method of counting by the fingers, still followed by many

+children, is the aboriginal method. Neglecting the several cases {39}

+in which the ability to enumerate does not reach even to the number

+of fingers on one hand, there are many cases in which it does not

+extend beyond ten—the limit of the simple finger notation. The fact

+that in so many instances, remote, and seemingly unrelated nations,

+have adopted _ten_ as their basic number; together with the fact that

+in the remaining instances the basic number is either _five_ (the

+fingers of one hand) or _twenty_ (the fingers and toes); of themselves

+show that the fingers were the original units of numeration. The still

+surviving use of the word _digit_, as the general name for a figure in

+arithmetic, is significant; and it is even said that our word _ten_

+(Sax. tyn; Dutch, tien; German, zehn) means in its primitive expanded

+form _two hands_. So that, originally, to say there were ten things,

+was to say there were two hands of them. From all which evidence it

+is tolerably clear that the earliest mode of conveying the idea of

+a number of things, was by holding up as many fingers as there were

+things; that is, by using a symbol which was _equal_, in respect of

+multiplicity, to the group symbolized. For which inference there is,

+indeed, strong confirmation in the statement that our own soldiers

+spontaneously adopted this device in their dealings with the Turks

+during the Crimean war. And here it should be remarked that in this

+re-combination of the notion of equality with that of multiplicity, by

+which the first steps in numeration are effected, we may see one of

+the earliest of those inosculations between the diverging branches of

+science, which are afterwards of perpetual occurrence.

+

+As this observation suggests, it will be well, before tracing the

+mode in which exact science emerges from the inexact judgments of the

+senses, and showing the non-serial evolution of its divisions, to note

+the non-serial character of those preliminary processes of which all

+after development is a continuation. On re-considering them it will

+be seen that not only are they divergent branches {40} from a common

+root,—not only are they simultaneous in their growth; but that they

+are mutual aids; and that none can advance without the rest. That

+progress of classification for which the unfolding of the perceptions

+paves the way, is impossible without a corresponding progress in

+language, by which greater varieties of objects are thinkable and

+expressible. On the one hand classification cannot be carried far

+without names by which to designate the classes; and on the other hand

+language cannot be made faster than things are classified. Again,

+the multiplication of classes and the consequent narrowing of each

+class, itself involves a greater likeness among the things classed

+together; and the consequent approach towards the notion of complete

+likeness itself allows classification to be carried higher. Moreover,

+classification necessarily advances _pari passu_ with rationality—the

+classification of _things_ with the classification of _relations_.

+For things that belong to the same class are, by implication, things

+of which the properties and modes of behaviour—the co-existences and

+sequences—are more or less the same; and the recognition of this

+sameness of co-existences and sequences is reasoning. Whence it follows

+that the advance of classification is necessarily proportionate to the

+advance of generalizations. Yet further, the notion of _likeness_,

+both in things and relations, simultaneously evolves by one process of

+culture the ideas of _equality_ of things and _equality_ of relations;

+which are the respective bases of exact concrete reasoning and exact

+abstract reasoning—Mathematics and Logic. And once more, this idea of

+equality, in the very process of being formed, necessarily gives origin

+to two series of relations—those of magnitude and those of number; from

+which arise geometry and the calculus. Thus the process throughout

+is one of perpetual subdivision and perpetual intercommunication of

+the divisions. From the very first there has been that _consensus_ of

+different kinds of knowledge, {41} answering to the _consensus_ of the

+intellectual faculties, which, as already said, must exist among the

+sciences.

+

+Let us now go on to observe how, out of the notions of _equality_ and

+_number_, as arrived at in the manner described, there gradually arose

+the elements of quantitative prevision.

+

+Equality, once having come to be definitely conceived, was recognizable

+among other phenomena than those of magnitude. Being predicable of

+all things producing indistinguishable impressions, there naturally

+grew up ideas of equality in weights, sounds, colours, &c.; and,

+indeed, it can scarcely be doubted that the occasional experience of

+equal weights, sounds, and colours, had a share in developing the

+abstract conception of equality—that the ideas of equality in sizes,

+relations, forces, resistances, and sensible properties in general,

+were evolved during the same stage of mental development. But however

+this may be, it is clear that as fast as the notion of equality gained

+definiteness, so fast did that lowest kind of quantitative prevision

+which is achieved without any instrumental aid, become possible. The

+ability to estimate, however roughly, the amount of a foreseen result,

+implies the conception that it will be _equal_ to a certain imagined

+quantity; and the correctness of the estimate will manifestly depend on

+the precision which the perceptions of sensible equality have reached.

+A savage with a piece of stone in his hand, and another piece lying

+before him of greater bulk but of the same kind (sameness of kind

+being inferred from the _equality_ of the two in colour and texture)

+knows about what effort he must put forth to raise this other piece;

+and he judges accurately in proportion to the accuracy with which he

+perceives that the one is twice, three times, four times, &c. as large

+as the other; that is—in proportion to the precision of his ideas of

+equality and number. And here let us not omit to notice that even in

+these vaguest of quantitative previsions, the conception of _equality

+of relations_ is also involved. For it is only in {42} virtue of an

+undefined consciousness that the relation between bulk and weight in

+the one stone is _equal_ to the relation between bulk and weight in the

+other, that even the roughest approximation can be made.

+

+But how came the transition from those uncertain perceptions of

+equality which the unaided senses give, to the certain ones with which

+science deals? It came by placing the things compared in juxtaposition.

+Equality being asserted of things which give us indistinguishable

+impressions, and no distinct comparison of impressions being possible

+unless they occur in immediate succession, it results that exactness

+of equality is ascertainable in proportion to the closeness of the

+compared things. Hence the fact that when we wish to judge of two

+shades of colour whether they are alike or not, we place them side by

+side; hence the fact that we cannot, with any precision, say which

+of two allied sounds is the louder, or the higher in pitch, unless

+we hear the one immediately after the other; hence the fact that to

+estimate the ratio of weights, we take one in each hand, that we may

+compare their pressures by rapidly alternating in thought from the

+one to the other; hence the fact, that in a piece of music, we can

+continue to make equal beats when the first beat has been given, but

+cannot ensure commencing with the same length of beat on a future

+occasion; and hence, lastly, the fact, that of all magnitudes, those of

+_linear extension_ are those of which the equality is most precisely

+ascertainable, and those to which, by consequence, all others have

+to be reduced. For it is the peculiarity of linear extension that it

+alone allows its magnitudes to be placed in _absolute_ juxtaposition,

+or, rather, in coincident position; it alone can test the equality of

+two magnitudes by observing whether they will coalesce, as two equal

+mathematical lines do, when placed between the same points; it alone

+can test _equality_ by trying whether it will become _identity_.

+Hence, then, the fact, that all exact science is reducible, {43} by

+an ultimate analysis, to results measured in equal units of linear

+extension.

+

+Still it remains to be noticed in what manner this determination

+of equality by comparison of linear magnitudes originated. Once

+more may we perceive that surrounding natural objects supplied the

+needful lessons. From the beginning there must have been a constant

+experience of like things placed side by side—men standing and walking

+together; animals from the same herd; fish from the same shoal. And the

+ceaseless repetition of these experiences could not fail to suggest

+the observation, that the nearer together any objects were, the more

+visible became any inequality between them. Hence the obvious device

+of putting in apposition, things of which it was desired to ascertain

+the relative magnitudes. Hence the idea of _measure_. And here we

+suddenly come upon a group of facts which afford a solid basis to the

+remainder of our argument; while they also furnish strong evidence in

+support of the foregoing speculations. Those who look sceptically on

+this attempted rehabilitation of early mental development, and who

+think that the derivation of so many primary notions from organic

+forms is somewhat strained, will perhaps see more probability in the

+hypotheses which have been ventured, on discovering that all measures

+of _extension_ and _force_ originated from the lengths and weights of

+organic bodies, and all measures of _time_ from the periodic phenomena

+of either organic or inorganic bodies.

+

+Thus, among linear measures, the cubit of the Hebrews was the _length

+of the forearm_ from the elbow to the end of the middle finger; and

+the smaller scriptural dimensions are expressed in _hand-breadths_ and

+_spans_. The Egyptian cubit, which was similarly derived, was divided

+into digits, which were _finger-breadths_; and each finger-breadth was

+more definitely expressed as being equal to four _grains of barley_

+placed breadthwise. Other ancient measures were {44} the orgyia or

+_stretch of the arms_, the _pace_, and the _palm_. So persistent has

+been the use of these natural units of length in the East, that even

+now some Arabs mete out cloth by the forearm. So, too, is it with

+European measures. The _foot_ prevails as a dimension throughout

+Europe, and has done so since the time of the Romans, by whom, also, it

+was used: its lengths in different places varying not much more than

+men’s feet vary. The heights of horses are still expressed in _hands_.

+The inch is the length of the terminal joint of _the thumb_; as is

+clearly shown in France, where _pouce_ means both thumb and inch. Then

+we have the inch divided into three _barley-corns_. So completely,

+indeed, have these organic dimensions served as the substrata of

+mensuration, that it is only by means of them that we can form any

+estimate of some of the ancient distances. For example, the length

+of a degree on the Earth’s surface, as determined by the Arabian

+astronomers shortly after the death of Haroun-al-Raschid, was fifty-six

+of their miles. We know nothing of their mile further than that it was

+4000 cubits; and whether these were sacred cubits or common cubits,

+would remain doubtful, but that the length of the cubit is given as

+twenty-seven inches, and each inch defined as the thickness of six

+barley-grains. Thus one of the earliest measurements of a degree comes

+down to us in barley-grains. Not only did organic lengths furnish those

+approximate measures which satisfied men’s needs in ruder ages, but

+they furnished also the standard measures required in later times. One

+instance occurs in our own history. To remedy the irregularities then

+prevailing, Henry I. commanded that the ulna, or ancient ell, which

+answers to the modern yard, should be made of the exact length of _his

+own arm_.

+

+Measures of weight had a kindred derivation. Seeds seem commonly to

+have supplied the units. The original of the carat used for weighing in

+India is _a small bean_. Our own systems, both troy and avoirdupois,

+are derived {45} primarily from wheat-corns. Our smallest weight,

+the grain is _a grain of wheat_. This is not a speculation; it is an

+historically-registered fact. Henry III. enacted that an ounce should

+be the weight of 640 dry grains of wheat from the middle of the ear.

+And as all the other weights are multiples or sub-multiples of this, it

+follows that the grain of wheat is the basis of our scale. So natural

+is it to use organic bodies as weights, before artificial weights have

+been established, or where they are not to be had, that in some of the

+remoter parts of Ireland the people are said to be in the habit, even

+now, of putting a man into the scales to serve as a measure for heavy

+commodities.

+

+Similarly with time. Astronomical periodicity, and the periodicity of

+animal and vegetable life, are simultaneously used in the first stages

+of progress for estimating epochs. The simplest unit of time, the day,

+nature supplies ready made. The next simplest period, the moneth or

+month, is also thrust upon men’s notice by the conspicuous changes

+constituting a lunation. For larger divisions than these, the phenomena

+of the seasons, and the chief events from time to time occurring, have

+been used by early and uncivilized races. Among the Egyptians the

+rising of the Nile served as a mark. The New Zealanders were found to

+begin their year from the reappearance of the Pleiades above the sea.

+One of the uses ascribed to birds, by the Greeks, was to indicate the

+seasons by their migrations. Barrow describes the aboriginal Hottentot

+as expressing dates by the number of moons before or after the ripening

+of one of his chief articles of food. He further states that the

+Kaffir chronology is kept by the moon, and is registered by notches on

+sticks—the death of a favourite chief, or the gaining of a victory,

+serving for a new era. By which last fact, we are at once reminded

+that in early history, events are commonly recorded as occurring in

+certain reigns, and in certain years of certain reigns: a proceeding

+which made a king’s reign {46} a rude measure of duration. And, as

+further illustrating the tendency to divide time by natural phenomena

+and natural events, it may be noticed that even by our own peasantry

+the definite divisions of months and years are but little used; and

+that they habitually refer to occurrences as “before sheep-shearing,”

+or “after harvest,” or “about the time when the squire died.” It is

+manifest, therefore, that the approximately equal periods perceived

+in Nature gave the first units of measure for time; as did Nature’s

+approximately equal lengths and weights give the first units of measure

+for space and force.

+

+It remains only to observe, that measures of value were similarly

+derived. Barter, in one form or other, is found among all but the

+very lowest human races. It is obviously based upon the notion of

+_equality of worth_. And as it gradually merges into trade by the

+introduction of some kind of currency, we find that the _measures of

+worth_, constituting this currency, are organic bodies; in some cases

+_cowries_, in others _cocoa-nuts_, in others _cattle_, in others

+_pigs_; among the American Indians peltry or _skins_, and in Iceland

+_dried fish_.

+

+Notions of exact equality and of measure having been reached, there

+arose definite ideas of magnitudes as being multiples one of another;

+whence the practice of measurement by direct apposition of a measure.

+The determination of linear extensions by this process can scarcely be

+called science, though it is a step towards it; but the determination

+of lengths of time by an analogous process may be considered as one

+of the earliest samples of quantitative prevision. For when it is

+first ascertained that the moon completes the cycle of her changes

+in about thirty days—a fact known to most uncivilized tribes that

+can count beyond the number of their fingers—it is manifest that it

+becomes possible to say in what number of days any specified phase of

+the moon will recur; and it is also manifest that this prevision is

+effected by an apposition of two times, after the same manner {47}

+that linear space is measured by the apposition of two lines. For to

+express the moon’s period in days, is to say how many of these units

+of measure are contained in the period to be measured—is to ascertain

+the distance between two points in time by means of a _scale of days_,

+just as we ascertain the distance between two points in space by a

+scale of feet or inches; and in each case the scale coincides with the

+thing measured—mentally in the one, visibly in the other. So that in

+this simplest, and perhaps earliest case of quantitative prevision,

+the phenomena are not only thrust daily upon men’s notice, but Nature

+is, as it were, perpetually repeating that process of measurement by

+observing which the prevision is effected.

+

+This fact, that in very early stages of social progress it is known

+that the moon goes through her changes in nearly thirty days, and

+that in rather more than twelve moons the seasons return—this fact

+that chronological astronomy assumes a certain scientific character

+even before geometry does; while it is partly due to the circumstance

+that the astronomical divisions, day, month, and year, are ready made

+for us, is partly due to the further circumstances that agricultural

+and other operations were at first regulated astronomically, and that

+from the supposed divine nature of the heavenly bodies their motions

+determined the periodical religious festivals. As instances of the

+one we have the observation of the Egyptians, that the rising of the

+Nile corresponded with the heliacal rising of Sirius; the directions

+given by Hesiod for reaping and ploughing, according to the positions

+of the Pleiades; and his maxim that “fifty days after the turning of

+the sun is a seasonable time for beginning a voyage.” As instances of

+the other, we have the naming of the days after the sun, moon, and

+planets; the early attempts among Eastern nations to regulate the

+calendar so that the gods might not be offended by the displacement

+of their sacrifices; and the fixing of the great annual festival of

+the Peruvians by the position of the sun. {48} In all which facts we

+see that, at first, science was simply an appliance of religion and

+industry.

+

+After the discoveries that a lunation occupies nearly thirty days, and

+that some twelve lunations occupy a year—discoveries which we may infer

+were the earliest, from the fact that existing uncivilized races have

+made them—we come to the first known astronomical records, which are

+those of eclipses. The Chaldeans were able to predict these. “This they

+did, probably,” says Dr. Whewell in his useful history, from which most

+of the materials we are about to use will be drawn, “by means of their

+cycle of 223 months, or about eighteen years; for, at the end of this

+time, the eclipses of the moon begin to return, at the same intervals

+and in the same order as at the beginning.” Now this method of

+calculating eclipses by means of a recurring cycle,—the _Saros_ as they

+called it—is a more complex case of prevision by means of coincidence

+of measures. For by what observations must the Chaldeans have

+discovered this cycle? Obviously, as Delambre infers, by inspecting

+their registers; by comparing the successive intervals; by finding that

+some of the intervals were alike; by seeing that these equal intervals

+were eighteen years apart; by discovering that _all_ the intervals

+that were eighteen years apart were equal; by ascertaining that the

+intervals formed a series which repeated itself, so that if one of the

+cycles of intervals were superposed on another the divisions would fit.

+And this being once perceived, it became possible to use the cycle as

+a scale of time by which to measure out future periods of recurrence.

+Seeing thus that the process of so predicting eclipses, is in essence

+the same as that of predicting the moon’s monthly changes by observing

+the number of days after which they repeat—seeing that the two differ

+only in the extent and irregularity of the intervals; it is not

+difficult to understand how such an amount of knowledge should so early

+have been reached. And we shall be the less surprised on remembering

+that the only things involved in these {49} previsions were _time_ and

+_number_; and that the time was in a manner self-numbered.

+

+Still, the ability to predict events recurring only after so long

+a period as eighteen years, implies a considerable advance in

+civilization—a considerable development of general knowledge; and we

+have now to inquire what progress in other sciences accompanied, and

+was necessary to, these astronomical previsions. In the first place,

+there must have been a tolerably efficient system of calculation. Mere

+finger-counting, mere head-reckoning, even with the aid of a decimal

+notation, could not have sufficed for numbering the days in a year;

+much less the years, months, and days between eclipses. Consequently

+there must have been a mode of registering numbers; probably even a

+system of numerals. The earliest numerical records, if we may judge by

+the practices of the less civilized races now existing, were probably

+kept by notches cut on sticks, or strokes marked on walls; much as

+public-house scores are kept now. And there is reason to think that

+the first numerals used were simply groups of straight strokes, as

+some of the still-extant Roman ones are; leading us to suspect that

+these groups of strokes were used to represent groups of fingers, as

+the groups of fingers had been used to represent groups of objects—a

+supposition harmonizing with the aboriginal practice of picture

+writing. Be this so or not, however, it is manifest that before the

+Chaldeans discovered their _Saros_, they must have had both a set of

+written symbols serving for an extensive numeration, and a familiarity

+with the simpler rules of arithmetic.

+

+Not only must abstract mathematics have made some progress, but

+concrete mathematics also. It is scarcely possible that the buildings

+belonging to this era should have been laid out and erected without

+any knowledge of geometry. At any rate, there must have existed that

+elementary geometry which deals with direct {50} measurement—with the

+apposition of lines; and it seems that only after the discovery of

+those simple proceedings, by which right angles are drawn, and relative

+positions fixed, could so regular an architecture be executed. In the

+case of the other division of concrete mathematics—mechanics, we have

+definite evidence of progress. We know that the lever and the inclined

+plane were employed during this period: implying that there was a

+qualitative prevision of their effects, if not a quantitative one.

+But we know more. We read of weights in the earliest records; and we

+find weights in ruins of the highest antiquity. Weights imply scales,

+of which we have also mention; and scales involve the primary theorem

+of mechanics in its least complicated form—involve not a qualitative

+but a quantitative prevision of mechanical effects. And here we may

+notice how mechanics, in common with the other exact sciences, took

+its rise from the simplest application of the idea of _equality_. For

+the mechanical proposition which the scales involve, is, that if a

+lever with _equal_ arms, have _equal_ weights suspended from them, the

+weights will remain at _equal_ altitudes. And we may further notice

+how, in this first step of rational mechanics, we see illustrated the

+truth awhile since named, that as magnitudes of linear extension are

+the only ones of which the equality is exactly ascertainable, the

+equalities of other magnitudes have at the outset to be determined by

+means of them. For the equality of the weights which balance each other

+in scales, depends on the equality of the arms: we can know that the

+weights are equal only by proving that the arms are equal. And when

+by this means we have obtained a system of weights,—a set of equal

+units of force and definite multiples of them, then does a science of

+mechanics become possible. Whence, indeed, it follows, that rational

+mechanics could not possibly have any other starting-point than the

+scales.

+

+Let us further remember that during this same period {51} there was

+some knowledge of chemistry. Sundry of the arts which we know to have

+been carried on, were made possible only by a generalized experience

+of the modes in which certain bodies affect each other under special

+conditions. In metallurgy, which was extensively practised, this is

+abundantly illustrated. And we even have evidence that in some cases

+the knowledge possessed was, in a sense, quantitative. For, as we find

+by analysis that the hard alloy of which the Egyptians made their

+cutting tools, was composed of copper and tin in fixed proportions,

+there must have been an established prevision that such an alloy

+was to be obtained only by mixing them in these proportions. It is

+true, this was but a simple empirical generalization; but so was the

+generalization respecting the recurrence of eclipses; so are the first

+generalizations of every science.

+

+Respecting the simultaneous advance of the sciences during this early

+epoch, it remains to point out that even the most complex of them

+must have made some progress. For under what conditions only were

+the foregoing developments possible? The conditions furnished by an

+established and organized social system. A long continued registry of

+eclipses; the building of palaces; the use of scales; the practice of

+metallurgy—alike imply a settled and populous nation. The existence

+of such a nation not only presupposes laws and some administration of

+justice, which we know existed, but it presupposes successful laws—laws

+conforming in some degree to the conditions of social stability—laws

+enacted because it was found that the actions forbidden by them were

+dangerous to the State. We do not by any means say that all, or even

+the greater part, of the laws were of this nature; but we do say,

+that the fundamental ones were. It cannot be denied that the laws

+affecting life and property were such. It cannot be denied that,

+however little these were enforced between class and class, they were

+to a considerable extent {52} enforced between members of the same

+class. It can scarcely be questioned, that the administration of them

+between members of the same class was seen by rulers to be necessary

+for keeping society together. But supposition aside, it is clear that

+the habitual recognition of these claims in their laws, implied some

+prevision of social phenomena. That same idea of _equality_, which,

+as we have seen, underlies other science, underlies also morals and

+sociology. The conception of justice, which is the primary one in

+morals; and the administration of justice, which is the vital condition

+to social existence; are impossible without the recognition of a

+certain likeness in men’s claims, in virtue of their common humanity.

+_Equity_ literally means _equalness_; and if it be admitted that there

+were even the vaguest ideas of equity in these primitive eras, it must

+be admitted that there was some appreciation of the equalness of men’s

+liberties to pursue the objects of life—some appreciation, therefore,

+of the essential principle of national equilibrium.

+

+Thus in this initial stage of the positive sciences, before geometry

+had yet done more than evolve a few empirical rules—before mechanics

+had passed beyond its first theorem—before astronomy had advanced

+from its merely chronological phase into the geometrical; the most

+involved of the sciences had reached a certain degree of development—a

+development without which no progress in other sciences was possible.

+

+Only noting as we pass, how, thus early, we may see that the progress

+of exact science was not only towards an increasing number of

+previsions, but towards previsions more accurately quantitative—how,

+in astronomy, the recurring period of the moon’s motions was by and

+by more correctly ascertained to be two hundred and thirty-five

+lunations; how Callipus further corrected this Metonic cycle, by

+leaving out a day at the end of every seventy-six years; and how

+these successive advances implied a {53} longer continued registry

+of observations, and the co-ordination of a greater number of facts;

+let us go on to inquire how geometrical astronomy took its rise. The

+first astronomical instrument was the gnomon. This was not only early

+in use in the East, but it was found among the Mexicans; the sole

+astronomical observations of the Peruvians were made by it; and we

+read that 1100 B.C., the Chinese observed that, at a certain place,

+the length of the sun’s shadow, at the summer solstice, was to the

+height of the gnomon, as one and a half to eight. Here again it is

+observable, both that the instrument is found ready made, and that

+Nature is perpetually performing the process of measurement. Any fixed,

+erect object—a column, a pole, the angle of a building—serves for a

+gnomon; and it needs but to notice the changing position of the shadow

+it daily throws, to make the first step in geometrical astronomy. How

+small this first step was, may be seen in the fact that the only things

+ascertained at the outset were the periods of the summer and winter

+solstices, which corresponded with the least and greatest lengths of

+the mid-day shadow; and to fix which, it was needful merely to mark

+the point to which each day’s shadow reached. And now let it not be

+overlooked that in the observing at what time during the next year this

+extreme limit of the shadow was again reached, and in the inference

+that the sun had then arrived at the same turning point in his annual

+course, we have one of the simplest instances of that combined use of

+_equal magnitudes_ and _equal relations_, by which all exact science,

+all quantitative prevision, is reached. For the relation observed

+was between the length of the gnomon’s shadow and the sun’s position

+in the heavens; and the inference drawn was that when, next year,

+the extremity of the shadow came to the same point, he occupied the

+same place. That is, the ideas involved were, the equality of the

+shadows, and the equality of the relations between {54} shadow and

+sun in successive years. As in the case of the scales, the equality of

+relations here recognized is of the simplest order. It is not as those

+habitually dealt with in the higher kinds of scientific reasoning,

+which answer to the general type—the relation between two and three

+equals the relation between six and nine; but it follows the type—the

+relation between two and three equals the relation between two and

+three: it is a case of not simply _equal_ relations, but _coinciding_

+relations. And here, indeed, we may see beautifully illustrated how

+the idea of equal relations takes its rise after the same manner that

+that of equal magnitudes does. As already shown, the idea of equal

+magnitudes arose from the observed coincidence of two lengths placed

+together; and in this case we have not only two coincident lengths of

+shadows, but two coincident relations between sun and shadows.

+

+From the use of the gnomon there naturally grew up the conception of

+angular measurements; and with the advance of geometrical conceptions

+came the hemisphere of Berosus, the equinoctial armil, the solstitial

+armil, and the quadrant of Ptolemy—all of them employing shadows

+as indices of the sun’s position, but in combination with angular

+divisions. It is out of the question for us here to trace these details

+of progress. It must suffice to remark that in all of them we may see

+that notion of equality of relations of a more complex kind, which

+is best illustrated in the astrolabe, an instrument which consisted

+“of circular rims, moveable one within the other, or about poles, and

+contained circles which were to be brought into the position of the

+ecliptic, and of a plane passing through the sun and the poles of the

+ecliptic”—an instrument, therefore, which represented, as by a model,

+the relative positions of certain imaginary lines and planes in the

+heavens; which was adjusted by putting these representative lines and

+planes into parallelism with the celestial ones; and which depended

+for its use on the perception that the relations among these {55}

+representative lines and planes were _equal_ to the relations among

+those represented. We might go on to point out how the conception

+of the heavens as a revolving hollow sphere, the explanation of the

+moon’s phases, and indeed all the successive steps taken, involved

+this same mental process. But we must content ourselves with referring

+to the theory of eccentrics and epicycles, as a further marked

+illustration of it. As first suggested, and as proved by Hipparchus to

+afford an explanation of the leading irregularities in the celestial

+motions, this theory involved the perception that the progressions,

+retrogressions, and variations of velocity seen in the heavenly bodies,

+might be reconciled with their assumed uniform movements in circles, by

+supposing that the earth was not in the centre of their orbits; or by

+supposing that they revolved in circles whose centres revolved round

+the earth; or by both. The discovery that this would account for the

+appearances, was the discovery that in certain geometrical diagrams the

+relations were such, that the uniform motion of points along curves

+conditioned in specified ways, would, when looked at from a particular

+position, present analogous irregularities; and the calculations of

+Hipparchus involved the belief that the relations subsisting among

+these geometrical curves were _equal_ to the relations subsisting among

+the celestial orbits.

+

+Leaving here these details of astronomical progress, and the

+philosophy of it, let us observe how the relatively concrete science

+of geometrical astronomy, having been thus far helped forward by

+the development of geometry in general, reacted upon geometry,

+caused it also to advance, and was again assisted by it. Hipparchus,

+before making his solar and lunar tables, had to discover rules

+for calculating the relations between the sides and angles of

+triangles—_trigonometry_, a subdivision of pure mathematics. Further,

+the reduction of the doctrine of the sphere to a quantitative form

+needed for astronomical purposes, required the formation of a

+_spherical trigonometry_, which {56} was also achieved by Hipparchus.

+Thus both plane and spherical trigonometry, which are parts of the

+highly abstract and simple science of extension, remained undeveloped

+until the less abstract and more complex science of the celestial

+motions had need of them. The fact admitted by M. Comte, that since

+Descartes the progress of the abstract division of mathematics has

+been determined by that of the concrete division, is paralleled by

+the still more significant fact that even thus early the progress of

+mathematics was determined by that of astronomy. And here, indeed, we

+see exemplified the truth, which the subsequent history of science

+frequently illustrates, that before any more abstract division makes a

+further advance, some more concrete division suggests the necessity for

+that advance—presents the new order of questions to be solved. Before

+astronomy put before Hipparchus the problem of solar tables, there

+was nothing to raise the question of the relations between lines and

+angles: the subject-matter of trigonometry had not been conceived.

+

+Just incidentally noticing the circumstance that the epoch we are

+describing witnessed the evolution of algebra, a comparatively abstract

+division of mathematics, by the union of its less abstract divisions,

+geometry and arithmetic (a fact proved by the earliest extant samples

+of algebra, which are half algebraic, half geometric) we go on to

+observe that during the era in which mathematics and astronomy were

+thus advancing, rational mechanics made its second step; and something

+was done towards giving a quantitative form to hydrostatics, optics,

+and acoustics. In each case we shall see how the idea of equality

+underlies all quantitative prevision; and in what simple forms this

+idea is first applied.

+

+As already shown, the first theorem established in mechanics was, that

+equal weights suspended from a lever with equal arms would remain in

+equilibrium. Archimedes discovered that a lever with unequal arms was

+in {57} equilibrium when one weight was to its arm as the other arm to

+its weight; that is—when the numerical relation between one weight and

+its arm was _equal_ to the numerical relation between the other arm and

+its weight.

+

+The first advance made in hydrostatics, which we also owe to

+Archimedes, was the discovery that fluids press _equally_ in all

+directions; and from this followed the solution of the problem of

+floating bodies; namely, that they are in equilibrium when the upward

+and downward pressures are _equal_.

+

+In optics, again, the Greeks found that the angle of incidence is

+_equal_ to the angle of reflection; and their knowledge reached no

+further than to such simple deductions from this as their geometry

+sufficed for. In acoustics they ascertained the fact that three strings

+of _equal_ lengths would yield the octave, fifth and fourth, when

+strained by weights having certain definite ratios; and they did not

+progress much beyond this. In the one of which cases we see geometry

+used in elucidation of the laws of light; and in the other, geometry

+and arithmetic made to measure certain phenomena of sound.

+

+While sundry sciences had thus reached the first stages of quantitative

+prevision, others were progressing in qualitative prevision. It

+must suffice just to note that some small generalizations were made

+respecting evaporation, and heat, and electricity, and magnetism,

+which, empirical as they were, did not in that respect differ from

+the first generalizations of every science; that the Greek physicians

+had made advances in physiology and pathology, which, considering

+the great imperfection of our present knowledge, are by no means to

+be despised; that zoology had been so far systematized by Aristotle,

+as, to some extent, enabled him from the presence of certain organs

+to predict the presence of others; that in Aristotle’s _Politics_, is

+shown progress towards a scientific conception of social phenomena,

+and sundry previsions respecting {58} them; and that in the state of

+the Greek societies, as well as in the writings of Greek philosophers,

+we may recognize both an increasing clearness in the conception of

+equity and some appreciation of the fact that social stability depends

+on the maintenance of equitable relations. Space permitting, we might

+dwell on the causes which retarded the development of some of the

+sciences, as for example, chemistry; showing that relative complexity

+had nothing to do with it—that the oxidation of a piece of iron is a

+simpler phenomenon than the recurrence of eclipses, and the discovery

+of carbonic acid less difficult than that of the precession of the

+equinoxes. The relatively slow advance of chemical knowledge might be

+shown to be due, partly to the fact that its phenomena were not daily

+thrust on men’s notice as those of astronomy were; partly to the fact

+that Nature does not habitually supply the means, and suggest the modes

+of investigation, as in the sciences dealing with time, extension, and

+force; partly to the fact that the great majority of the materials with

+which chemistry deals, instead of being ready to hand, are made known

+only by the arts in their slow growth; and partly to the fact that even

+when known, their chemical properties are not self-exhibited, but have

+to be sought out by experiment.

+

+Merely indicating these considerations, however, let us go on to

+contemplate the progress and mutual influence of the sciences in

+modern days; only parenthetically noticing how, on the revival of the

+scientific spirit, the successive stages achieved exhibit the dominance

+of the law hitherto traced—how the primary idea in dynamics, a uniform

+force, was defined by Galileo to be a force which generates _equal_

+velocities in _equal_ successive times—how the uniform action of

+gravity was first experimentally determined by showing that the time

+elapsing before a body thrown up, stopped, was _equal_ to the time it

+took to fall—how the first fact in compound motion which Galileo {59}

+ascertained was, that a body projected horizontally, will describe

+_equal_ horizontal spaces in _equal_ times, compounded vertical spaces

+described which increase by equal increments in _equal_ times—how his

+discovery respecting the pendulum was, that its oscillations occupy

+_equal_ intervals of time whatever their lengths—how the law which he

+established that in any machine the weights that balance each other,

+are reciprocally as their virtual velocities implies that the relation

+of one set of weights to their velocities _equals_ the relation

+of the other set of velocities to their weights;—and how thus his

+achievements consisted in showing the equalities of certain magnitudes

+and relations, whose equalities had not been previously recognized.

+

+And now, but only now, physical astronomy became possible. The

+simple laws of force had been disentangled from those of friction

+and atmospheric resistance by which all their earthly manifestations

+are disguised. Progressing knowledge of _terrestrial physics_ had

+given a due insight into these disturbing causes; and, by an effort

+of abstraction, it was perceived that all motion would be uniform

+and rectilinear unless interfered with by external forces. Geometry

+and mechanics having diverged from a common root in men’s sensible

+experiences, and having, with occasional inosculations, been separately

+developed, the one partly in connexion with astronomy, the other solely

+by analyzing terrestrial movements, now join in the investigations

+of Newton to create a true theory of the celestial motions. And

+here, also, we have to notice the important fact that, in the very

+process of being brought jointly to bear upon astronomical problems,

+they are themselves raised to a higher phase of development. For it

+was in dealing with the questions raised by celestial dynamics that

+the then incipient infinitesimal calculus was unfolded by Newton

+and his continental successors; and it was from inquiries into the

+mechanics of the solar system that the general theorems of mechanics

+contained in the {60} _Principia_—many of them of purely terrestrial

+application—took their rise. Thus, as in the case of Hipparchus, the

+presentation of a new order of concrete facts to be analyzed, led to

+the discovery of new abstract facts; and these abstract facts then

+became instruments of access to endless groups of concrete facts

+previously beyond quantitative treatment.

+

+Meanwhile, physics had been carrying further that progress without

+which, as just shown, rational mechanics could not be disentangled.

+In hydrostatics, Stevinus had extended and applied the discovery of

+Archimedes. Torricelli had proved atmospheric pressure, “by showing

+that this pressure sustained different liquids at heights inversely

+proportional to their densities;” and Pascal “established the necessary

+diminution of this pressure at increasing heights in the atmosphere”:

+discoveries which in part reduced this branch of science to a

+quantitative form. Something had been done by Daniel Bernouilli towards

+the dynamics of fluids. The thermometer had been invented; and sundry

+small generalizations reached by it. Huyghens and Newton had made

+considerable progress in optics; Newton had approximately calculated

+the rate of transmission of sound; and the continental mathematicians

+had ascertained some of the laws of sonorous vibrations. Magnetism and

+electricity had been considerably advanced by Gilbert. Chemistry had

+got as far as the mutual neutralization of acids and alkalies. And

+Leonardo da Vinci had advanced in geology to the conclusion that the

+deposition of animal remains in marine strata is the origin of fossils.

+Our present purpose does not require that we should give particulars.

+Here it only concerns us to illustrate the _consensus_ subsisting in

+this stage of growth, and afterwards. Let us look at a few cases.

+

+The theoretic law of the velocity of sound deduced by Newton from

+purely mechanical data, was found wrong by one-sixth. The error

+remained unaccounted for until the {61} time of Laplace, who,

+suspecting that the heat disengaged by the compression of the

+undulating strata of the air, gave additional elasticity, and so

+produced the difference, made the needful calculations and found he

+was right. Thus acoustics was arrested until thermology overtook and

+aided it. When Boyle and Marriot had discovered the relation between

+the densities of gases and the pressures they are subject to; and when

+it thus became possible to calculate the rate of decreasing density

+in the upper parts of the atmosphere; it also became possible to make

+approximate tables of the atmospheric refraction of light. Thus optics,

+and with it astronomy, advanced with barology. After the discovery of

+atmospheric pressure had led to the invention of the air-pump by Otto

+Guericke; and after it had become known that evaporation increases in

+rapidity as atmospheric pressure decreases; it became possible for

+Leslie, by evaporation in a vacuum, to produce the greatest cold known;

+and so to extend our knowledge of thermology by showing that there is

+no zero within reach of our researches. When Fourier had determined the

+laws of conduction of heat, and when the Earth’s temperature had been

+found to increase below the surface one degree in every forty yards,

+there were data for inferring the past condition of our globe; the

+vast period it has taken to cool down to its present state; and the

+immense age of the solar system—a purely astronomical consideration.

+Chemistry having advanced sufficiently to supply the needful materials,

+and a physiological experiment having furnished the requisite hint,

+there came the discovery of galvanic electricity. Galvanism reacting

+on chemistry disclosed the metallic bases of the alkalies and earths,

+and inaugurated the electro-chemical theory; in the hands of Oersted

+and Ampère it led to the laws of magnetic action; and by its aid

+Faraday has detected significant facts relative to the constitution of

+light. Brewster’s discoveries respecting double refraction and {62}

+dipolarization proved the essential truth of the classification of

+crystalline forms according to the number of axes, by showing that

+the molecular constitution depends on the axes. Now in these and in

+numerous other cases, the mutual influence of the sciences has been

+quite independent of any supposed hierarchical order. Often, too, their

+inter-actions are more complex than as thus instanced—involve more

+sciences than two. One illustration of this must suffice. We quote it

+in full from the _History of the Inductive Sciences_. In Book XI.,

+chap. II., on “The Progress of the Electrical Theory,” Dr. Whewell

+writes:―

+

+ “Thus at that period, mathematics was behind experiment, and a problem

+ was proposed, in which theoretical numerical results were wanted for

+ comparison with observation, but could not be accurately obtained;

+ as was the case in astronomy also, till the time of the approximate

+ solution of the problem of three bodies, and the consequent formation

+ of the tables of the moon and planets, on the theory of universal

+ gravitation. After some time, electrical theory was relieved from

+ this reproach, mainly in consequence of the progress which astronomy

+ had occasioned in pure mathematics. About 1801 there appeared in the

+ _Bulletin des Sciences_, an exact solution of the problem of the

+ distribution of electric fluid on a spheroid, obtained by Biot, by the

+ application of the peculiar methods which Laplace had invented for

+ the problem of the figure of the planets. And, in 1811, M. Poisson

+ applied Laplace’s artifices to the case of two spheres acting upon

+ one another in contact, a case to which many of Coulomb’s experiments

+ were referrible; and the agreement of the results of theory and

+ observation, thus extricated from Coulomb’s numbers obtained above

+ forty years previously, was very striking and convincing.”

+

+Not only do the sciences affect each other after this direct manner,

+but they affect each other indirectly. Where there is no dependence,

+there is yet analogy—_likeness of relations_; and the discovery of the

+relations subsisting among one set of phenomena, constantly suggests a

+search for similar relations among another set. Thus the established

+fact that the force of gravitation varies inversely as the square

+of the distance, being recognized as a necessary characteristic of

+all influences proceeding from a centre, raised the suspicion that

+heat and light follow the same law; which proved to be the case—a

+suspicion and a {63} confirmation which were repeated in respect to

+the electric and magnetic forces. Thus, again, the discovery of the

+polarization of light led to experiments which ended in the discovery

+of the polarization of heat—a discovery that could never have been

+made without the antecedent one. Thus, too, the known refrangibility

+of light and heat lately produced the inquiry whether sound also is

+not refrangible; which on trial it turns out to be. In some cases,

+indeed, it is only by the aid of conceptions derived from one class of

+phenomena that hypotheses respecting other classes can be formed. The

+theory, at one time favoured, that evaporation is a solution of water

+in air, assumed that the relation between water and air is _like_ the

+relation between water and a dissolved solid; and could never have been

+conceived if relations like that between salt and water had not been

+previously known. Similarly the received theory of evaporation—that

+it is a diffusion of the particles of the evaporating fluid in virtue

+of their atomic repulsion—could not have been entertained without a

+foregoing experience of magnetic and electric repulsions. So complete

+in recent days has become this _consensus_ among the sciences,

+caused either by the natural entanglement of their phenomena, or by

+analogies between the relations of their phenomena, that scarcely any

+considerable discovery concerning one order of facts now takes place,

+without shortly leading to discoveries concerning other orders.

+

+To produce a complete conception of this process of scientific

+evolution it would be needful to go back to the beginning, and trace

+in detail the growth of classifications and nomenclatures; and to

+show how, as subsidiary to science, they have acted upon it while it

+has reacted upon them. We can only now remark that, on the one hand,

+classifications and nomenclatures have aided science by subdividing

+the subject-matter of research, and giving fixity and diffusion to

+the truths disclosed; and that on the other hand, they have caught

+from it that increasing {64} quantitativeness, and that progress from

+considerations touching single phenomena to considerations touching the

+relations among many phenomena, which we have been describing. Of this

+last influence a few illustrations must be given. In chemistry it is

+seen in the facts that the dividing of matter into the four elements

+was ostensibly based on the single property of weight, that the

+first truly chemical division into acid and alkaline bodies, grouped

+together bodies which had not simply one property in common but in

+which one property was constantly related to many others, and that the

+classification now current, places together in the groups _supporters

+of combustion_, _metallic and non-metallic bases_, _acids_, _salts_,

+&c., bodies which are often quite unlike in sensible qualities, but

+which are like in the majority of their _relations_ to other bodies. In

+mineralogy again, the first classifications were based on differences

+in aspect, texture, and other physical attributes. Berzelius made two

+attempts at a classification based solely on chemical constitution.

+That now current recognizes, as far as possible, the _relations_

+between physical and chemical characters. In botany the earliest

+classes formed were _trees_, _shrubs_, and _herbs_: magnitude being the

+basis of distinction. Dioscorides divided vegetables into _aromatic_,

+_alimentary_, _medicinal_, and _vinous_: a division of chemical

+character. Cæsalpinus classified them by the seeds and seed-vessels,

+which he preferred because of the _relations_ found to subsist between

+the character of the fructification and the general character of the

+other parts. While the “natural system” since developed, carrying out

+the doctrine of Linnæus, that “the natural orders must be formed by

+attention not to one or two, but to _all_ the parts of plants,” bases

+its divisions on like peculiarities which are found to be _constantly

+related_ to the greatest number of other like peculiarities. And

+similarly in zoology, the successive classifications, from having

+been originally determined by external and often {65} subordinate

+characters not indicative of the essential nature, have been more and

+more determined by those internal and fundamental differences, which

+have uniform _relations_ to the greatest number of other differences.

+Nor shall we be surprised at this analogy between the modes of progress

+of positive science and classification, when we bear in mind that

+both proceed by making generalizations; that both enable us to make

+previsions, differing only in their precision; and that while the one

+deals with equal properties, magnitudes, and relations, the other deals

+with properties and relations which approximate towards equality in

+various degrees.

+

+Without further argument it will, we think, be admitted that the

+sciences are none of them separately evolved—are none of them

+independent either logically or historically; but that all of them

+have, in a greater or less degree, required aid and reciprocated it.

+Indeed, it needs but to throw aside hypotheses, and contemplate the

+mixed character of surrounding phenomena, to see at once that these

+notions of division and succession in the kinds of knowledge are simply

+scientific fictions: good, if regarded merely as aids to study; bad,

+if regarded as representing realities in Nature. No facts whatever are

+presented to our senses uncombined with other facts—no facts whatever

+but are in some degree disguised by accompanying facts: disguised in

+such a manner that all must be partially understood before any one

+can be understood. If it be said, as by M. Comte, that gravitating

+force should be treated of before other forces, seeing that all things

+are subject to it, it may on like grounds be said that heat should

+be first dealt with; seeing that thermal forces are everywhere in

+action. Nay more, it may be urged that the ability of any portion of

+matter to manifest visible gravitative phenomena depends on its state

+of aggregation, which is determined by heat; that only by the aid

+of thermology can we explain those apparent exceptions to {66} the

+gravitating tendency which are presented by steam and smoke, and so

+establish its universality; and that, indeed, the very existence of

+the Solar System in a solid form is just as much a question of heat as

+it is one of gravitation. Take other cases:—All phenomena recognized

+by the eyes, through which only are the data of exact science

+ascertainable, are complicated with optical phenomena, and cannot be

+exhaustively known until optical principles are known. The burning of

+a candle cannot be explained without involving chemistry, mechanics,

+thermology. Every wind that blows is determined by influences partly

+solar, partly lunar, partly hygrometric; and implies considerations

+of fluid equilibrium and physical geography. The direction, dip, and

+variations of the magnetic needle, are facts half terrestrial, half

+celestial—are caused by earthly forces which have cycles of change

+corresponding with astronomical periods. The flowing of the gulf-stream

+and the annual migration of icebergs towards the equator, involve in

+their explanation the Earth’s rotation and spheroidal form, the laws of

+hydrostatics, the relative densities of cold and warm water, and the

+doctrines of evaporation. It is no doubt true, as M. Comte says, that

+“our position in the Solar System, and the motions, form, size, and

+equilibrium of the mass of our world among the planets, must be known

+before we can understand the phenomena going on at its surface.” But,

+fatally for his hypothesis, it is also true that we must understand

+a great part of the phenomena going on at its surface before we can

+know its position, &c., in the Solar System. It is not simply that, as

+already shown, those geometrical and mechanical principles by which

+celestial appearances are explained, were first generalized from

+terrestrial experiences; but it is that even the obtainment of correct

+data on which to base astronomical generalizations, implies advanced

+terrestrial physics. Until after optics had made considerable advance,

+the Copernican {67} system remained but a speculation. A single modern

+observation on a star has to undergo a careful analysis by the combined

+aid of various sciences—has to _be digested by the organism of the

+sciences_; which have severally to assimilate their respective parts

+of the observation, before the essential fact it contains is available

+for the further development of astronomy. It has to be corrected

+not only for nutation of the Earth’s axis and for precession of the

+equinoxes, but for aberration and for refraction; and the formation of

+the tables by which refraction is calculated, presupposes knowledge

+of the law of decreasing density in the upper atmospheric strata, of

+the law of decreasing temperature and the influence of this on the

+density, and of hygrometric laws as also affecting density. So that,

+to get materials for further advance, astronomy requires not only the

+indirect aid of the sciences which have presided over the making of

+its improved instruments, but the direct aid of an advanced optics,

+of barology, of thermology, of hygrometry; and if we remember that

+these delicate observations are in some cases registered electrically,

+and that they are further corrected for the “personal equation”—the

+time elapsing between seeing and registering, which differs with

+different observers—we may even add electricity and psychology. And

+here, before leaving these illustrations, and especially this last

+one, let us not omit to notice how well they exhibit that increasingly

+active _consensus_ of the sciences which characterizes their advancing

+development. Besides finding that in these later times a discovery in

+one science commonly causes progress in others; besides finding that

+a great part of the questions with which modern science deals are

+so mixed as to require the co-operation of many sciences for their

+solution; we find that, to make a single good observation in the purest

+of the natural sciences, requires the combined aid of half a dozen

+other sciences.

+

+Perhaps the clearest comprehension of the interconnected {68} growth

+of the sciences may be obtained by contemplating that of the arts,

+to which it is strictly analogous, and with which it is bound up.

+Most intelligent persons must have been occasionally struck with

+the numerous antecedents pre-supposed by one of our processes of

+manufacture. Let him trace the production of a printed cotton, and

+consider all that is implied by it. There are the many successive

+improvements through which the power-looms reached their present

+perfection; there is the steam-engine that drives them, having its

+long history from Papin downwards; there are the lathes in which its

+cylinder was bored, and the string of ancestral lathes from which those

+lathes proceeded; there is the steam-hammer under which its crank shaft

+was welded; there are the puddling furnaces, the blast-furnaces, the

+coal-mines and the iron-mines needful for producing the raw material;

+there are the slowly improved appliances by which the factory was

+built, and lighted, and ventilated; there are the printing engine,

+and the dye-house, and the colour-laboratory with its stock of

+materials from all parts of the world, implying cochineal-culture,

+logwood-cutting, indigo-growing; there are the implements used by the

+producers of cotton, the gins by which it is cleaned, the elaborate

+machines by which it is spun; there are the vessels in which cotton

+is imported, with the building-slips, the rope-yards, the sail-cloth

+factories, the anchor-forges, needful for making them; and besides

+all these directly necessary antecedents, each of them involving many

+others, there are the institutions which have developed the requisite

+intelligence, the printing and publishing arrangements which have

+spread the necessary information, the social organization which has

+rendered possible such a complex co-operation of agencies. Further

+analysis would show that the many arts thus concerned in the economical

+production of a child’s frock, have each been brought to its present

+efficiency by slow steps which the other arts have aided; and that from

+the beginning this reciprocity has been on {69} the increase. It needs

+but on the one hand to consider how impossible it is for the savage,

+even with ore and coal ready, to produce so simple a thing as an iron

+hatchet; and then to consider, on the other hand, that it would have

+been impracticable among ourselves, even a century ago, to raise the

+tubes of the Britannia bridge from lack of the hydraulic press; to see

+how mutually dependent are the arts, and how all must advance that each

+may advance. Well, the sciences are involved with each other in just

+the same manner. They are, in fact, inextricably woven into this same

+complex web of the arts; and are only conventionally independent of

+it. Originally the two were one. How to fix the religious festivals;

+when to sow; how to weigh commodities; and in what manner to measure

+ground; were the purely practical questions out of which arose

+astronomy, mechanics, geometry. Since then there has been a perpetual

+inosculation of the sciences and the arts. Science has been supplying

+art with truer generalizations and more completely quantitative

+previsions. Art has been supplying science with better materials, and

+more perfect instruments. And all along the interdependence has been

+growing closer, not only between art and science, but among the arts

+themselves, and among the sciences themselves. How completely the

+analogy holds throughout, becomes yet clearer when we recognize the

+fact that _the sciences are arts to one another_. If, as occurs in

+almost every case, the fact to be analyzed by any science, has first

+to be prepared—to be disentangled from disturbing facts by the afore

+discovered methods of other sciences; the other sciences so used,

+stand in the position of arts. If, in solving a dynamical problem,

+a parallelogram is drawn, of which the sides and diagonal represent

+forces, and by putting magnitudes of extension for magnitudes of force

+a measurable relation is established between quantities not else to be

+dealt with; it may be fairly said that geometry plays towards mechanics

+much the same part that the fire of the founder plays towards the

+metal he is going to cast. {70} If, in analyzing the phenomena of the

+coloured rings surrounding the point of contact between two lenses,

+a Newton ascertains by calculation the amount of certain interposed

+spaces, far too minute for actual measurement; he employs the science

+of number for essentially the same purpose as that for which the

+watchmaker employs tools. If, before calculating the orbit of a comet

+from its observed position, the astronomer has to separate all the

+errors of observation, it is manifest that the refraction-tables, and

+logarithm-books, and formulæ, which he successively uses, serve him

+much as retorts, and filters, and cupels serve the assayer who wishes

+to separate the pure gold from all accompanying ingredients. So close,

+indeed, is the relationship, that it is impossible to say where science

+begins and art ends. All the instruments of the natural philosopher

+are the products of art; the adjusting one of them for use is an art;

+there is art in making an observation with one of them; it requires

+art properly to treat the facts ascertained; nay, even the employing

+established generalizations to open the way to new generalizations,

+may be considered as art. In each of these cases previously organized

+knowledge becomes the implement by which new knowledge is got at:

+and whether that previously organized knowledge is embodied in a

+tangible apparatus or in a formula, matters not in so far as its

+essential relation to the new knowledge is concerned. If art is applied

+knowledge, then such portion of a scientific investigation as consists

+of applied knowledge is art. Hence we may even say that as soon as any

+prevision in science passes out of its originally passive state, and

+is employed for reaching other previsions, it passes from theory into

+practice—becomes science in action—becomes art. And after contemplating

+these facts, we shall the more clearly perceive that as the connexion

+of the arts with each other has been becoming more intimate; as the

+help given by sciences to arts and by arts to sciences, has been age by

+age increasing; so the interdependence of the sciences {71} themselves

+has been ever growing greater, their relations more involved, their

+_consensus_ more active.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+In here ending our sketch of the Genesis of Science, we are conscious

+of having done the subject but scant justice. Two difficulties

+have stood in our way: one, the having to touch on so many points

+in such small space; the other, the necessity of treating in

+serial arrangement a process which is not serial. Nevertheless, we

+believe the evidence assigned suffices to substantiate the leading

+propositions with which we set out. Inquiry into the first stages

+of science confirms the conclusion drawn from analysis of science

+as now existing, that it is not distinct from common knowledge, but

+an outgrowth from it—an extension of perception by means of reason.

+That more specific characteristic of scientific previsions, which

+was analytically shown to distinguish them from the previsions of

+uncultured intelligence—their quantitativeness—we also see to have been

+the characteristic alike of the initial steps in science, and of all

+the steps succeeding them. The facts and admissions cited in disproof

+of the assertion that the sciences follow one another, both logically

+and historically, in the order of their decreasing generality, have

+been enforced by the instances we have met with, showing that a more

+general science as much owes its progress to the presentation of new

+problems by a more special science, as the more special science owes

+its progress to the solutions which the more general science is thus

+led to attempt—instances, therefore, illustrating the position that

+scientific advance is as much from the special to the general as from

+the general to the special. Quite in harmony with this position we

+find to be the admissions that the sciences are as branches of one

+trunk, and that they were at first cultivated simultaneously. This

+harmony becomes the more marked on finding, as we have done, not

+only that the sciences have a common root, but that science in {72}

+general has a common root with language, classification, reasoning,

+art; that throughout civilization these have advanced together, acting

+and reacting upon each other just as the separate sciences have done;

+and that thus the development of intelligence in all its divisions

+and sub-divisions has conformed to this same law which we have shown

+that the sciences conform to. From all which we may perceive that the

+sciences can with no greater propriety be arranged in a succession,

+than language, classification, reasoning, art, and science, can be

+arranged in a succession; that, however needful a succession may be

+for the convenience of books and catalogues, it must be recognized as

+merely a convention; and that so far from its being the function of a

+philosophy of the sciences to establish a hierarchy, it is its function

+to show that the linear arrangements required for literary purposes,

+have none of them any basis either in Nature or History.

+

+There is one further remark we must not omit—a remark touching the

+importance of the question that has been discussed. Topics of this

+abstract nature are commonly slighted as of no practical moment;

+and, doubtless, many will think it of little consequence what theory

+respecting the genesis of science may be entertained. But the value of

+truths is often great, in proportion as their generality is wide. And

+it must be so here. A correct theory of the development of the sciences

+must have an important effect on education; and, through education, on

+civilization. Much as we differ from him in other respects, we agree

+with M. Comte in the belief that, rightly conducted, the education of

+the individual must have a certain correspondence with the evolution

+of the race. No one can contemplate the facts we have cited in

+illustration of the early stages of science, without recognizing the

+_necessity_ of the processes through which those stages were reached—a

+necessity which, in respect to the leading truths, may likewise be

+traced in all after stages. This necessity, {73} originating in the

+very nature of the phenomena to be analyzed and the faculties to be

+employed, partially applies to the mind of the child as to that of the

+savage. We say partially, because the correspondence is not special

+but general only. Were the _environment_ the same in both cases, the

+correspondence would be complete. But though the surrounding material

+out of which science is to be organized, is, in many cases, the same

+to the juvenile mind and the aboriginal mind, it is not so throughout;

+as, for instance, in the case of chemistry, the phenomena of which

+are accessible to the one but were inaccessible to the other. Hence,

+in proportion as the environment differs, the course of evolution

+must differ. After admitting exceptions, however, there remains a

+substantial parallelism; and, if so, it is of moment to ascertain what

+really has been the process of scientific evolution. The establishment

+of an erroneous theory must be disastrous in its educational results;

+while the establishment of a true one must be fertile in school-reforms

+and consequent social benefits.

+

+

+ENDNOTE TO _THE GENESIS OF SCIENCE_.

+

+[1] It is curious that the author of “The Plurality of Worlds,”

+with quite other aims, should have persuaded himself into similar

+conclusions.

+

+

+

+

+{74}

+

+THE CLASSIFICATION OF THE SCIENCES.

+

+

+[_First published as a brochure in April 1864. The preface to the

+second edition, published in April 1869, I reproduce because of certain

+facts contained in it which are not without interest._]

+

+The first edition of this Essay is not yet out of print. But a proposal

+to translate it into French having been made by Professor Réthoré, I

+have decided to prepare a new edition free from the imperfections which

+criticism and further thought have disclosed, rather than allow these

+imperfections to be reproduced.

+

+The occasion has almost tempted me into some amplification. Further

+arguments against the classification of M. Comte, and further arguments

+in support of the classification here set forth, have pleaded for

+utterance. But reconsideration has convinced me that it is both

+needless and useless to say more—needless because those who are not

+committed will think the case sufficiently strong as it stands; and

+useless because to those who are committed, additional reasons will

+seem as inadequate as the original ones. [In the preface to the third

+edition, however, a reason is given for a change of decision on

+this point at that time made (February 1871): the reason being “the

+publication of several objections by Prof. Bain in his Logic.”]

+

+This last conclusion is thrust on me by seeing how little M. Littré,

+the leading expositor of M. Comte, is influenced by fundamental

+objections the force of which he admits. After quoting one of these,

+he says, with a candour equally {75} rare and admirable, that he

+has vainly searched M. Comte’s works and his own mind for an answer.

+Nevertheless, he adds—“j’ai réussi, je crois, à écarter l’attaque de M.

+Herbert Spencer, et à sauver le fond par des sacrifices indispensables

+mais accessoires.” The sacrifices are these. He abandons M. Comte’s

+division of Inorganic Science into Celestial Physics and Terrestrial

+Physics—a division which, in M. Comte’s scheme, takes precedence of

+all the rest; and he admits that neither logically nor historically

+does Astronomy come before Physics, as M. Comte alleges. After making

+these sacrifices, which most will think too lightly described as

+“sacrifices indispensables mais accessoires,” M. Littré proceeds to

+rehabilitate the Comtean classification in a way which he considers

+satisfactory, but which I do not understand. In short, the proof of

+these incongruities affects his faith in the Positivist theory of the

+sciences, no more than the faith of a Christian is affected by proof

+that the Gospels contradict one another.

+

+Here in England I have seen no attempt to meet the criticisms with

+which M. Littré thus deals. There has been no reply to the allegation,

+based on examples, that the several sciences do not develop in the

+order of their decreasing generality; nor to the allegation, based

+on M. Comte’s own admissions, that within each science the progress

+is not, as he says it is, from the general to the special; nor to

+the allegation that the seeming historical precedence of Astronomy

+over Physics in M. Comte’s pages, is based on a verbal ambiguity—a

+mere sleight of words; nor to the allegation, abundantly illustrated,

+that a progression in an order the reverse of that asserted by M.

+Comte may be as well substantiated; nor to various minor allegations

+equally irreconcileable with his scheme. I have met with nothing

+more than iteration of the statement that the sciences _do_ conform,

+logically and historically, to the order in which M. Comte places them;

+regardless of the assigned evidence that they _do not_.

+

+Under these circumstances it is unnecessary for me to {76} say more;

+and I think I am warranted in continuing to hold that the Comtean

+classification of the sciences is demonstrably untenable.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+In an essay on “The Genesis of Science,” originally published in 1854,

+I endeavoured to show that the Sciences cannot be rationally arranged

+in serial order. Proof was given that neither the succession in which

+the Sciences are placed by M. Comte (to a criticism of whose scheme

+the essay was in part devoted), nor any other succession in which the

+Sciences can be placed, represents either their logical dependence or

+their historical dependence. To the question—How may their relations be

+rightly expressed? I did not then attempt any answer. This question I

+propose now to consider.

+

+A true classification includes in each class, those objects which have

+more characteristics in common with one another, than any of them

+have in common with any objects excluded from the class. Further,

+the characteristics possessed in common by the colligated objects,

+and not possessed by other objects, involve more numerous dependent

+characteristics. These are two sides of the same definition. For things

+possessing the greatest number of attributes in common, are things that

+possess in common those essential attributes on which the rest depend;

+and, conversely, the possession in common of the essential attributes,

+implies the possession in common of the greatest number of attributes.

+Hence, either test may be used as convenience dictates.

+

+If, then, the Sciences admit of classification at all, it must be by

+grouping together the like and separating the unlike, as thus defined.

+Let us proceed to do this.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+The broadest natural division among the Sciences, is the division

+between those which deal with the abstract relations {77} under which

+phenomena are presented to us, and those which deal with the phenomena

+themselves. Relations of whatever orders, are nearer akin to one

+another than they are to any objects. Objects of whatever orders, are

+nearer akin to one another than they are to any relations. Whether,

+as some hold, Space and Time are nothing but forms of Thought[2];

+or whether, as I hold myself, they are forms of Things, that have

+generated forms of Thought through organized and inherited experience

+of Things; it is equally true that Space and Time are contrasted

+absolutely with the existences disclosed to us in Space and Time; and

+hence the Sciences which deal exclusively with Space and Time, are

+separated by the profoundest of all distinctions from the Sciences

+which deal with the existences contained in Space and Time. Space is

+the abstract of all relations of co-existence. Time is the abstract

+of all relations of sequence. And dealing as they do entirely with

+relations of co-existence and sequence, in their general or special

+forms, Logic and Mathematics form a class of the Sciences more widely

+unlike the rest, than any of the rest are from one another.

+

+The Sciences which deal with existences themselves, instead of the

+blank forms in which existences are presented to us, admit of a

+sub-division less profound than the division above made, but more

+profound than any of the divisions among the Sciences individually

+considered. They {78} fall into two classes, having quite different

+aspects, aims, and methods. Every phenomenon is more or less

+composite—is a manifestation of force under several distinct modes.

+Hence result two objects of inquiry. We may study the component

+modes of force separately; or we may study them as co-operating to

+generate in this composite phenomenon. On the one hand, neglecting

+all the incidents of particular cases, we may aim to educe the laws

+of each mode of force, when it is uninterfered with. On the other

+hand, the incidents of the particular case being given, we may seek to

+interpret the entire phenomenon, as a product of the several forces

+simultaneously in action. The truths reached through the first kind

+of inquiry, though concrete inasmuch as they have actual existences

+for their subject-matters, are abstract inasmuch as they refer to the

+modes of existence apart from one another; while the truths reached

+by the second kind of inquiry are properly concrete, inasmuch as they

+formulate the facts in their combined order, as they occur in Nature.

+

+The Sciences, then, in their main divisions, stand thus:―

+

+ SCIENCE is

+

+   that which treats of the forms

+   in which phenomona are known to us;   ABSTRACT SCIENCE

+                                         (Logic and Mathematics)

+

+  that which treats of the phenomena themselves

+

+    in their elements           ABSTRACT-CONCRETE SCIENCE

+                                (Mechanics, Physics, Chemistry, etc.)

+

+    in their totalities         CONCRETE SCIENCE

+                                (Astronomy, Geology, Biology, Psychology,

+                                 Sociology, etc.)

+

+It is needful to define the words _abstract_ and _concrete_ as thus

+used; since they are sometimes used with other {79} meanings. M.

+Comte divides Science into abstract and concrete; but the divisions

+which he distinguishes by these names are quite unlike those above

+made. Instead of regarding some Sciences as wholly abstract, and

+others as wholly concrete, he regards each Science as having an

+abstract part, and a concrete part. There is, according to him, an

+abstract mathematics and a concrete mathematics—an abstract biology

+and concrete biology. He says:—“Il faut distinguer, par rapport à

+tous les ordres de phénomènes, deux genres de sciences naturelles:

+les unes abstraites, générales, ont pour objet la découverte des lois

+qui régissent les diverses classes de phénomènes, en considérant tous

+les cas qu’on peut concevoir; les autres concrètes, particulières,

+descriptives, et qu’on désigne quelquefois sous le nom de sciences

+naturelles proprement dites, consistent dans l’application de ces

+lois a l’histoire effective des différens êtres existans.” And to

+illustrate the distinction, he names general physiology as abstract,

+and zoology and botany as concrete. Here it is manifest that the words

+_abstract_ and _general_ are used as synonymous. They have, however,

+different meanings; and confusion results from not distinguishing

+their meanings. Abstractness means _detachment from_ the incidents of

+particular cases. Generality means _manifestation in_ numerous cases.

+On the one hand, the essential nature of some phenomenon is considered,

+apart from disguising phenomena. On the other hand, the frequency of

+the phenomenon, with or without disguising phenomena, is the thing

+considered. Among the phenomena presented by numbers, which are purely

+ideal, the two coincide; but excluding these, an abstract truth is not

+realizable to perception in any case of which it is asserted, whereas

+a general truth is realizable to perception in every case of which it

+is asserted. Some illustrations will make the distinction clear. Thus

+it is an abstract truth that the angle contained in a semi-circle is

+a right angle—abstract in the sense that though it does not hold of

+{80} actually-constructed semi-circles and angles, which are always

+inexact, it holds of the ideal semi-circles and angles abstracted

+from real ones; but this is not a general truth, either in the sense

+that it is commonly manifested in Nature, or in the sense that it is

+a space-relation that comprehends many minor space-relations: it is

+a quite special space-relation. Again, that the momentum of a body

+causes it to move in a straight line at a uniform velocity, is an

+abstract-concrete truth—a truth abstracted from certain experiences of

+concrete phenomena; but it is by no means a general truth: so little

+generality has it, that no one fact in Nature displays it. Conversely,

+surrounding things supply us with hosts of general truths that are not

+in the least abstract. It is a general truth that the planets go round

+the Sun from West to East—a truth which holds good in several hundred

+cases (including the cases of the planetoids); but this truth is not

+at all abstract, since it is perfectly realized as a concrete fact

+in every one of these cases. Every vertebrate animal whatever, has a

+double nervous system; all birds and all mammals are warm-blooded—these

+are general truths, but they are concrete truths: that is to say, every

+vertebrate animal individually presents an entire and unqualified

+manifestation of this duality of the nervous system; every living bird

+exemplifies absolutely or completely the warm-bloodedness of birds.

+What we here call, and rightly call, a general truth, is simply a

+proposition which _sums up_ a number of our actual experiences; and

+not the expression of a truth _drawn from_ our actual experiences, but

+never presented to us in any of them. In other words, a general truth

+colligates a number of particular truths; while an abstract truth

+colligates no particular truths, but formulates a truth which certain

+phenomena all involve, though it is actually seen in none of them.

+

+Limiting the words to their proper meanings as thus defined, it becomes

+manifest that the three classes of {81} Sciences above separated,

+are not distinguishable at all by differences in their degrees of

+generality. They are all equally general; or rather they are all,

+considered as groups, universal. Every object whatever presents at once

+the subject-matter for each of them. In every fragment of substance

+we have simultaneously illustrated the abstract truths of relation in

+Time and Space; the abstract-concrete truths in conformity with which

+the fragment manifests its several modes of force; and the concrete

+truths resulting from the joint manifestation of these modes of force,

+and which give to the fragment the characters by which it is known as

+such or such. Thus these three classes of Sciences severally formulate

+different, but co-extensive, classes of facts. Within each group there

+are truths of greater and less generality: there are general abstract

+truths, and special abstract truths; general abstract-concrete truths,

+and special abstract-concrete truths; general concrete truths, and

+special concrete truths. But while within each class there are groups

+and sub-groups and sub-sub-groups which differ in their degrees of

+generality, the classes themselves differ only in their degrees of

+abstractness.[3]

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Let us pass to the sub-divisions of these classes. The first class is

+separable into two parts—the one containing universal truths, the other

+non-universal truths. Dealing {82} wholly with relations apart from

+related things, Abstract Science considers first, that which is common

+to all relations whatever; and, second, that which is common to each

+order of relations. Besides the indefinite and variable connexions

+which exist among phenomena, as occurring together in Space and Time,

+we find that there are also definite and invariable connexions—that

+between each kind of phenomenon and certain other kinds of phenomena,

+there exist uniform relations. This is a universal abstract truth—that

+there is an unchanging order, or fixity of law, in Space and Time.

+We come next to the several kinds of unchanging order, which, taken

+together, form the subjects of the {83} second division of Abstract

+Science. Of this second division, the most general sub-division is

+that which deals with the natures of the connexions in Space and Time,

+irrespective of the terms connected. The conditions under which we may

+predicate a relation of coincidence or proximity in Space and Time (or

+of non-coincidence or non-proximity) from the subject-matter of Logic.

+Here the natures and amounts of the terms between which the relations

+are {84} asserted (or denied) are of no moment: the propositions

+of Logic are independent of any qualitative or quantitative

+specification of the related things. The other sub-division has for

+its subject-matter, the relations between terms which are specified

+quantitatively but not qualitatively. The amounts of the related terms,

+irrespective of their natures, are here dealt with; and Mathematics

+is a statement of the laws of quantity considered apart from reality.

+Quantity considered apart from reality, is occupancy of Space or Time;

+and occupancy of Space or Time is measured by units of one or other

+order, but of which the ultimate ones are simply separate places in

+consciousness, either coexistent or sequent. Among units that are

+unspecified in their natures (extensive, protensive, or intensive), but

+are ideally endowed with existence considered apart from attributes,

+the quantitative relations that arise, are those most general relations

+expressed by numbers. Such relations fall into either of two orders,

+according as the units are considered simply as capable of filling

+separate places in consciousness, or according as they are considered

+as filling places that are not only separate, but equal. In the one

+case, we have that indefinite calculus by which numbers of abstract

+existences, but not sums of abstract existence, are predicable. In the

+other case, we have that definite calculus by which both numbers of

+abstract existences and sums of abstract existence are predicable. Next

+comes that division of Mathematics which deals with the quantitative

+relations of magnitudes (or aggregates of units) considered as

+coexistent, or as occupying Space—the division called Geometry. And

+then we arrive at relations, the terms of which include both quantities

+of Time and quantities of Space—those in which times are estimated by

+the units of space traversed at a uniform velocity, and those in which

+equal units of time being given, the spaces traversed with uniform or

+variable velocities are estimated. {85} These Abstract Sciences,

+which are concerned exclusively with relations and with the relations

+of relations, may be grouped as shown in Table I.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+TABLE I.

+

+ ABSTRACT SCIENCE.

+

+   Universal law of relation—an expression of the truth that

+   uniformities of connexion obtain among modes of Being, irrespective

+   of any specification of the natures of the uniformities of connexion.

+

+   Laws of relations

+

+     that are qualitative; or that are specified in their natures as

+     relations of coincidence or proximity in Time and Space, but not

+     necessarily in their terms the natures and amount of which are

+     indifferent. (LOGIC.)[4]

+

+     that are quantitative (MATHEMATICS)

+

+       negatively: the terms of the relations being definitely-related

+       sets of positions in space; and the facts predicated being the

+       absences of certain quantities. (_Geometry of Position._[5])

+

+       positively: the terms being magnitudes composed of

+

+         units that are equal only as having independent existences.

+         (_Indefinite Calculus._[6])

+

+         equal units

+

+           the equality of which is not defined as extensive,

+           protensive, or intensive (_Definite Calculus_)

+

+             when their numbers are completely specified (_Arithmetic._)

+

+             when their numbers are specified only

+

+               in their relations (_Algebra._)

+

+               in the relations of their relations. (_Calculus of_

+               _Operations._)

+

+           the equality of which is that of extension

+

+             considered in their relations of coexistence. (_Geometry._)

+

+             considered as traversed in Time

+

+               that is wholly indefinite. (_Kinematics._)

+

+               that is divided into equal units (_Geometry of Motion._[7])

+

+Passing from the Sciences concerned with the ideal or unoccupied

+forms of relations, and turning to the Sciences concerned with

+real relations, or the relations among realities, we come first to

+those Sciences which treat of realities, not as they are habitually

+manifested, but with realities as manifested in their different

+modes, when these are artificially separated from one another.

+While the Abstract Sciences are wholly ideal, relatively to the

+Abstract-Concrete and Concrete Sciences; the Abstract-Concrete Sciences

+are partially ideal, relatively to the Concrete Sciences. Just as

+Logic and Mathematics generalize the laws of relation, qualitative

+and quantitative, apart from related things; so, Mechanics, Physics,

+Chemistry generalize the laws of relation which different modes

+of Matter and Motion conform to, when severally disentangled from

+those actual phenomena in which they are mutually modified. Just as

+the geometrician formulates the properties of lines and surfaces,

+independently of the irregularities and thicknesses of lines and

+surfaces as they really exist; so the physicist and the chemist

+formulate the manifestations of each mode of force, independently of

+the disturbances in its manifestations which other modes of force cause

+in every actual case. In works on Mechanics, the laws of motion are

+expressed without reference to friction and resistance of the medium.

+Not what motion ever really is, but what it would be if retarding

+forces were absent, is asserted. If afterwards any retarding force is

+taken into account, then the effect of this retarding force is dealt

+with by itself: neglecting the other retarding forces. Consider, again,

+the generalizations of the physicist respecting molecular motion. The

+law that light varies inversely as the square of the distance, is

+absolutely true only when the radiation {86} goes on from a point

+without dimensions, which it never does; and it also assumes that

+the rays are perfectly straight, which they cannot be unless the

+medium differs from all actual media in being perfectly homogeneous.

+If the disturbing effects of changes of media are investigated, the

+formulæ expressing the refractions take for granted that the new media

+entered are homogeneous; which they never really are. Even when a

+compound disturbance is allowed for, as when the refraction undergone

+by light in traversing a medium of increasing density, like the

+atmosphere, is calculated, the calculation still supposes conditions

+that are unnaturally simple—it supposes that the atmosphere is not

+pervaded by heterogeneous currents, which it always is. Similarly

+with the inquiries of the chemist. He does not take his substances as

+Nature supplies them. Before he proceeds to specify their respective

+properties, he purifies them—separates from each all trace of every

+other. Before ascertaining the specific gravity of a gas, he has to

+free this gas from the vapour of water, usually mixed with it. Before

+describing the properties of a salt, he guards against any error that

+may arise from the presence of an uncombined portion of the acid or

+base. And when he alleges of any element that it has a certain atomic

+weight, and unites with such and such equivalents of other elements,

+he does not mean that the results thus expressed are exactly the

+results of any one experiment; but that they are the results which,

+after averaging many trials, he concludes would be realized if absolute

+purity could be obtained, and if the experiments could be conducted

+without loss. His problem is to ascertain the laws of combination of

+molecules, not as they are actually displayed, but as they would be

+displayed in the absence of those minute interferences which cannot

+be altogether avoided. Thus all Abstract-Concrete Sciences have for

+their object, _analytical interpretation_. In every case it is the

+aim to decompose the phenomenon, and formulate its {87} components

+apart from one another; or some two or three apart from the rest.

+Wherever, throughout these Sciences, synthesis is employed, it is for

+the verification of analysis.[8] The truths elaborated are severally

+asserted, not as truths exhibited by this or that particular object;

+but as truths universally holding of Matter and Motion in their more

+general or more special forms, considered apart from particular

+objects, and particular places in space.

+

+The sub-divisions of this group of Sciences, may be drawn on the

+same principle as that on which the sub-divisions of the preceding

+group were drawn. Phenomena, considered as more or less involved

+manifestations of force, yield on analysis, certain laws of

+manifestation which are universal, and other laws of manifestation,

+which, being dependent on conditions, are not universal. Hence the

+Abstract-Concrete Sciences are primarily divisible into—the laws of

+force considered apart from its separate modes, and laws of force

+considered under each of its separate modes. And this second division

+of the Abstract-Concrete group, is sub-divisible after a manner

+essentially analogous. It is needless to occupy space by defining

+these several {88} orders and genera of Sciences. Table II. will

+sufficiently explain their relations.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+TABLE II.

+

+  ABSTRACT-CONCRETE SCIENCE.

+

+    Universal laws of forces (tensions and pressures), as deducible from

+    the persistence of force: the theorems of resolution and composition

+    of forces.

+

+    Laws of forces as manifested by matter

+

+      in masses (MECHANICS)

+

+        that are in equilibrium relatively to other masses

+

+          and are solid. (_Statics._)

+

+          and are fluid. (_Hydrostatics._)

+

+        that are not in equilibrium relatively to other masses

+

+          and are solid. (_Dynamics._)

+

+          and are fluid. (_Hydrodynamics._)

+

+      in molecules (MOLECULAR MECHANICS)

+

+        when in equilibrium: (_Molecular Statics_)

+

+          giving statical properties of matter

+

+            general, as impenetrability or space-occupancy.

+

+            special, as the forms resulting from molecular equilibrium.

+

+          giving statico-dynamical properties of matter (cohesion,

+          elasticity, etc.)

+

+            when solid.

+

+            when liquid.

+

+            when gaseous.

+

+        when not in equilibrium: (_Molecular Dynamics_)

+

+          as resulting in a changed distribution of molecules

+

+            which alters their relative positions homogeneously

+

+              causing increase of volume (expansion, liquefaction,

+              evaporation).

+

+              causing decrease of volume (condensation, solidification,

+              contraction).

+

+            which alters their relative positions heterogeneously

+            (_Chemistry_)

+

+              producing new relations of molecules (new compounds).

+

+              producing new relations of forces (new affinities).

+

+          as resulting in a changed distribution of molecular motion,

+

+            which, by integration, generates sensible motion.

+

+            which, by disintegration, generates insensible motion, under

+            the forms of {_Heat._ _Light._ _Electricity._ _Magnetism._}

+

+Wecome now to the third great group. We have done with the Sciences which

+are concerned only with the blank forms of relations under which Being

+is manifested to us. We have left behind the Sciences which, dealing

+with Being under its universal mode, and its several non-universal

+modes regarded as independent, treat the terms of its relations as

+simple and homogeneous; which they never are in Nature. There remain

+the Sciences which, taking these modes of Being as they are habitually

+connected with one another, have for the terms of their relations,

+those heterogeneous combinations of forces that constitute actual

+phenomena. The subject-matter of these Concrete-Sciences is the real,

+as contrasted with the wholly or partially ideal. It is their aim,

+not to separate and generalize apart the components of all phenomena,

+but to explain each phenomenon as a product of these components.

+Their relations are not, like those of the simplest Abstract-Concrete

+Sciences, relations between one antecedent and one consequent; nor

+are they, like those of the more involved Abstract-Concrete Sciences,

+relations between some few antecedents cut off in imagination from

+all others, and some few consequents similarly cut off; but they

+are relations each of which has for its terms a complete plexus of

+antecedents and a complete plexus of consequents. This is manifest in

+the least involved Concrete Sciences. The astronomer seeks to explain

+the Solar System. He does not stop short after generalizing the laws

+of planetary movement, such as planetary movement would be did only

+a single planet exist; but he solves this abstract-concrete problem,

+as a step towards solving the concrete problem of the planetary

+movements as affecting one another. In astronomical language, “the

+theory of the Moon” means an interpretation of the Moon’s motions, not

+as determined simply by centripetal {89} and centrifugal forces, but

+as perpetually modified by gravitation towards the Earth’s equatorial

+protuberance, towards the Sun, and even towards Venus: forces daily

+varying in their amounts and combinations. Nor does the astronomer

+leave off when he has calculated what will be the position of a given

+body at a given time, allowing for all perturbations; but he goes on to

+consider the effects produced by reactions on the perturbing masses.

+And he further goes on to consider how the mutual perturbations of

+the planets cause, during a long period, increasing deviations from a

+mean state; and then how compensating perturbations cause continuous

+decrease of the deviations. That is, the goal towards which he ever

+strives, is a complete explanation of these complex planetary motions

+in their totality. Similarly with the geologist. He does not take for

+his problem only those irregularities of the Earth’s crust that are

+worked by denudation; or only those which igneous action causes. He

+does not seek simply to understand how sedimentary strata were formed;

+or how faults were produced; or how moraines originated; or how the

+beds of Alpine lakes were scooped out. But taking into account all

+agencies co-operating in endless and ever-varying combinations, he

+aims to interpret the entire structure of the Earth’s crust. If he

+studies separately the actions of rain, rivers, glaciers, icebergs,

+tides, waves, volcanoes, earthquakes, etc.; he does so that he may be

+better able to comprehend their joint actions as factors in geological

+phenomena: the object of his science being to generalize these

+phenomena in all their intricate connexions, as parts of one whole. In

+like manner Biology is the elaboration of a complete theory of Life, in

+each and all of its involved manifestations. If different aspects of

+its phenomena are investigated apart—if one observer busies himself in

+classing organisms, another in dissecting them, another in ascertaining

+their chemical compositions, another in studying functions, another

+in tracing laws of modification; they are {90} all, consciously or

+unconsciously, helping to work out a solution of vital phenomena in

+their entirety, both as displayed by individual organisms and by

+organisms at large. Thus, in these Concrete Sciences, the object is

+the converse of that which the Abstract-Concrete Sciences propose to

+themselves. In the one case we have _analytical interpretation_; while

+in the other case we have _synthetical interpretation_. Instead of

+synthesis being used merely to verify analysis; analysis is here used

+only to aid synthesis. Not to formulate the factors of phenomena is

+now the object; but to formulate the phenomena resulting from these

+factors, under the various conditions which the Universe presents.

+

+This third class of Sciences, like the other classes, is divisible

+into the universal and the non-universal. As there are truths which

+hold of all phenomena in their elements; so there are truths which

+hold of all phenomena in their totalities. As force has certain

+ultimate laws common to its separate modes of manifestation, so in

+those combinations of its modes which constitute actual phenomena, we

+find certain ultimate laws that are conformed to in every case. These

+are the laws of the re-distribution of force. Since we can become

+conscious of a phenomenon only by some change wrought in us, every

+phenomenon necessarily implies re-distribution of force—change in

+the arrangements of matter and motion. Alike in molecular movements

+and the movements of masses, one great uniformity may be traced.

+A decreasing quantity of motion, sensible or insensible, always

+has for its concomitant an increasing aggregation of matter; and,

+conversely, an increasing quantity of motion, sensible or insensible,

+has for its concomitant a decreasing aggregation of matter. Give to

+the molecules of any mass, more of that insensible motion which we

+call heat, and the parts of the mass become somewhat less closely

+aggregated. Add a further quantity of insensible motion, and the

+mass so far disintegrates as to become {91} liquid. Add still more

+insensible motion, and the mass disintegrates so completely as to

+become gas; which occupies a greater space with every extra quantity

+of insensible motion given to it. On the other hand, every loss of

+insensible motion by a mass, gaseous, liquid, or solid, is accompanied

+by a progressing integration of the mass. Similarly with sensible

+motions, be the bodies moved large or small. Augment the velocities

+of the planets, and their orbits will enlarge—the Solar System will

+occupy a wider space. Diminish their velocities, and their orbits will

+lessen—the Solar System will contract, or become more integrated.

+And in like manner we see that sensible motions given to bodies on

+the Earth’s surface involve partial disintegrations of the bodies

+from the Earth; while the loss of their motions are accompanied by

+their re-integration with the Earth. In all changes we have either an

+integration of matter and concomitant dissipation of motion; or an

+absorption of motion and concomitant disintegration of matter. And

+where, as in living bodies, these processes go on simultaneously, there

+is an integration of matter proportioned to the dissipation of motion,

+and an absorption of motion proportioned to the disintegration of

+matter. Such, then, are the universal laws of that re-distribution of

+matter and motion everywhere going on—a re-distribution which results

+in Evolution so long as the aggregation of matter and dispersion of

+motion predominate; but which results in Dissolution where there is

+a predominant aggregation of motion and dispersion of matter. Hence

+we have a division of Concrete Science which bears towards the other

+Concrete Sciences, a relation like that which the Universal Law of

+Relation bears to Mathematics, and like that which Universal Mechanics

+(composition and resolution of forces) bears to Physics. We have a

+division of Concrete Science which generalizes those concomitants

+of this re-distribution that hold good among all orders of concrete

+objects—a division which explains why, along with a {92} predominating

+integration of matter and dissipation of motion, there goes a change

+from an indefinite, incoherent homogeneity, to a definite, coherent

+heterogeneity; and why a reverse re-distribution of matter and motion,

+is accompanied by a reverse structural change. Passing from this

+universal Concrete Science, to the non-universal Concrete Sciences; we

+find that these are primarily divisible into the science which deals

+with the re-distributions of matter and motion among masses in space,

+consequent on their mutual actions as wholes; and the science which

+deals with the re-distributions of matter and motion consequent on the

+mutual actions of the parts of each mass. And of these equally general

+Sciences, this last is re-divisible into the Science which is limited

+to the concomitants of re-distribution among the parts of each mass

+when regarded as independent, and the Science which takes into account

+the molecular motion received by radiation from other masses. But these

+sub-divisions, and their sub-sub-divisions, will be best seen in the

+annexed Table III.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+TABLE III.

+

+ CONCRETE SCIENCE.

+

+   Universal laws of the continuous re-distribution of Matter and

+   Motion; which results in Evolution where there is a predominant

+   integration of Matter and dissipation of Motion, and which results

+   in Dissolution where there is a predominant absorption of Motion and

+   disintegration of Matter.

+

+   Laws of the redistributions of Matter and Motion actually going on

+

+     among the celestial bodies in their relations to one another as

+     masses: comprehending (ASTRONOMY)

+

+       the dynamics of our solar system. (_Planetary Astronomy._)

+

+       the dynamics of our stellar universe. (_Sidereal Astronomy._)

+

+     among the molecules of any celestial mass; as caused by

+

+       the actions of these molecules on one another

+       (ASTROGENY)

+

+         resulting in the formation of compound molecules. (_Solar_

+         _Mineralogy._)

+

+         resulting in molecular motions and genesis of radiant

+         forces.[9]

+

+         resulting in movements of gases and liquids. (_Solar_

+         _Meteorology._[10])

+

+       the actions of these molecules on one another, joined with the

+       actions on them of forces radiated by the molecules of other

+       masses: (GEOGENY)

+

+         as exhibited in the planets generally.

+

+         as exhibited in the Earth

+

+           causing composition and of decomposition of inorganic

+           matters. (_Mineralogy._)

+

+           causing re-distributions of gases and liquids.

+           (_Meteorology._)

+

+           causing re-distributions of solids. (_Geology._)

+

+           causing organic phenomena; which are (_Biology_)

+

+             those of structure (_Morphology_)

+

+               general.

+

+               special.

+

+             those of function

+

+               in their internal relations (_Physiology_)

+

+                 general.

+

+                 special.

+

+               in their external relations (_Psychology_)

+

+                 general

+

+                 special

+

+                   separate.

+

+                   combined. (_Sociology._[11])

+

+That these great groups of Sciences and their respective sub-groups,

+fulfil the definition of a true classification given at the outset, is,

+I think, tolerably manifest. The subjects of inquiry included in each

+primary division, have essential attributes in common with one another,

+which they have not in common with any of the subjects contained in

+the other primary divisions; and they have, by consequence, a greater

+number of attributes in which they are severally like the subjects

+they are grouped with, and unlike the subjects otherwise grouped.

+Between Sciences which deal with relations apart from realities, and

+Sciences which deal with realities, the distinction is the widest

+possible; since Being, in some or all of its attributes, is common to

+all Sciences of the second class, and excluded from all Sciences of the

+first class. And when we divide the Sciences which treat of realities,

+into those which deal {93} with their component phenomena considered in

+ideal separation and those which deal with their component phenomena

+as actually united, we make a profounder distinction than can exist

+between the Sciences which deal with one or other order of the

+components, or than can exist between the Sciences which deal with one

+or other order of the things composed. The three groups of Sciences

+may be briefly defined as—laws of the _forms_; laws of the _factors_;

+laws of the _products_. When thus defined, it becomes manifest that

+the groups are so radically unlike in their natures, that there can

+be no transitions between them; and that any Science belonging to one

+of the groups must be quite incongruous with the Sciences belonging

+to either of the other groups, if transferred. How fundamental are

+the differences between them, will be further seen on considering

+their functions. The first, or abstract group, is _instrumental_ with

+respect to both the others; and the second, or abstract-concrete group

+is _instrumental_ with respect to the third or concrete group. An

+endeavour to invert these functions will at once show how essential

+is the difference of character. The second and third groups supply

+subject-matter to the first, and the third supplies subject-matter to

+the second; but none of the truths which constitute the third group are

+of any use as solvents of the problems presented by the second group;

+and none of the truths which the second group formulates can act as

+solvents of problems contained in the first group.

+

+Concerning the sub-divisions of these great groups, little remains

+to be added. That each of the groups, being co-extensive with all

+phenomena, contains truths that are universal and others that are not

+universal, and that these must be classed apart, is obvious. And that

+the sub-divisions of the non-universal truths, are to be made according

+to their decreasing generality in something like the manner shown in

+the Tables, is proved by the fact that {94} when the descriptive

+words are read from the root to the extremity of any branch, they form

+a definition of the Science constituting that branch. That the minor

+divisions might be otherwise arranged, and that better definitions of

+them might be given, is highly probable. They are here set down merely

+for the purpose of showing how this method of classification works out.

+

+I will only further remark that the relations of the Sciences as

+thus represented, are still but imperfectly represented: their

+relations cannot be truly shown on a plane, but only in space of three

+dimensions. The three groups cannot rightly be put in linear order as

+they have here been. Since the first stands related to the third, not

+only indirectly through the second, but also directly—it is directly

+instrumental with respect to the third, and the third supplies it

+directly with subject-matter. Their relations can thus only be truly

+shown by branches diverging from a common root on different sides,

+in such a way that each stands in juxta-position to the other two.

+And only by a like mode of arrangement, can the relations among the

+sub-divisions of each group be correctly represented.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+The foregoing exposition, highly abstract as it is, will by some

+readers be less readily followed than a more concrete one. With the

+view of carrying conviction to such I will re-state the case in two

+ways: the first of them adapted only to those who accept the doctrine

+of Evolution in its most general form.

+

+We set out with concentrating nebulous matter. Tracing the

+re-distributions of this, as the rotating contracting spheroid leaves

+behind successive annuli and as these severally form secondary rotating

+spheroids, we come at length to planets in their early stages. Thus

+far we consider the phenomena dealt with purely astronomical; and so

+long as our Earth, regarded as one of these spheroids, {95} was made

+up of gaseous and molten matters only, it presented no data for any

+more complex Concrete Science. In the lapse of cosmical time a solid

+film forms, which, in the course of millions of years, thickens, and,

+in the course of further millions of years, becomes cool enough to

+permit the precipitation, first of various other gaseous compounds,

+and finally of water. Presently, the varying exposure of different

+parts of the spheroid to the Sun’s rays, begins to produce appreciable

+effects; until at length there have arisen meteorological actions, and

+consequent geological actions, such as those we now know: determined

+partly by the Sun’s heat, partly by the still-retained internal heat

+of the Earth, and partly by the action of the Moon on the ocean? How

+have we reached these geological phenomena? When did the astronomical

+changes end and the geological changes begin? It needs but to ask this

+question to see that there is no real division between the two. Putting

+pre-conceptions aside, we find nothing more than a group of phenomena

+continually complicating under the influence of the same original

+factors; and we see that our conventional division is defensible only

+on grounds of convenience. Let us advance a stage. As the Earth’s

+surface continues to cool, passing through all degrees of temperature

+by infinitesimal gradations, the formation of more and more complex

+inorganic compounds becomes possible. Later, its surface sinks to that

+heat at which the less complex compounds of the kinds called organic

+can exist; and, finally, the formation of the more complex organic

+compounds takes place. Chemists now show us that these compounds may

+be built up synthetically in the laboratory—each stage in ascending

+complexity making possible the next higher stage. Hence it is inferable

+that, in the myriads of laboratories, endlessly diversified in their

+materials and conditions, which the Earth’s surface furnished during

+the myriads of years occupied in passing through these stages of

+temperature, such successive {96} syntheses were effected; and that

+the highly complex unstable substance out of which all organisms are

+composed, was eventually formed in microscopic portions: from which,

+by continuous integrations and differentiations, the evolution of all

+organisms has proceeded. Where then shall we draw the line between

+Geology and Biology? The synthesis of this most complex compound, is

+but a continuation of the syntheses by which all simpler compounds were

+formed. The same primary factors have been co-operating with those

+secondary factors, meteorologic and geologic, previously derived from

+them. Nowhere do we find a break in the ever-complicating series; for

+there is a manifest connexion between those movements which various

+complex compounds undergo during their isomeric transformations,

+and those changes of form undergone by the protoplasm which we

+distinguish as living. Strongly contrasted as they eventually

+become, biological phenomena are at their root inseparable from

+geological phenomena—inseparable from the aggregate of transformations

+continually wrought in the matters forming the Earth’s surface by the

+physical forces to which they are exposed. Further stages I need not

+particularize. The gradual development out of the biological group of

+phenomena, of the more specialized group we class as psychological,

+needs no illustration. And when we come to the highest psychological

+phenomena, it is clear that since aggregations of human beings may be

+traced upwards from single wandering families to tribes and nations of

+all sizes and complexities, we pass insensibly from the phenomena of

+individual human action to those of corporate human action. To resume,

+then, is it not manifest that in the group of sciences—Astronomy,

+Geology, Biology, Psychology, Sociology, we have a natural group

+that admits neither of disruption nor change of order? Here there is

+both a genetic dependence, and a dependence of interpretations. The

+phenomena have arisen in this succession in cosmical {97} time; and

+complete scientific interpretation of each group depends on scientific

+interpretation of the preceding groups. No other science can be thrust

+in anywhere without destroying the continuity. To insert Physics

+between Astronomy and Geology, would be to make a break in the history

+of a continuous series of changes; and a like break would be produced

+by inserting Chemistry between Geology and Biology. It is true that

+Physics and Chemistry are needful as interpreters of these successive

+assemblages of facts; but it does not therefore follow that they are

+themselves to be placed among these assemblages.

+

+Concrete Science, made up of these five concrete sub-sciences, being

+thus coherent within itself, and separated from all other science,

+there comes the question—Is all other science similarly coherent within

+itself? or is it traversed by some second division that is equally

+decided? It is thus traversed. A statical or dynamical theorem, however

+simple, has always for its subject-matter something that is conceived

+as extended, and as displaying force or forces—as being a seat of

+resistance, or of tension, or of both, and as capable of possessing

+more or less of _vis viva_. If we examine the simplest proposition of

+Statics, we see that the conception of Force must be joined with the

+conception of Space, before the proposition can be framed in thought;

+and if we similarly examine the simplest proposition in Dynamics,

+we see that Force, Space, and Time, are its essential elements. The

+amounts of the terms are indifferent; and, by reduction of its terms

+beyond the limits of perception, they are applied to molecules: Molar

+Mechanics and Molecular Mechanics are continuous. From questions

+concerning the relative motions of two or more molecules, Molecular

+Mechanics passes to changes of aggregation among many molecules, to

+changes in the amounts and kinds of the motions possessed by them as

+members of an aggregate, and to changes of the motions transferred

+through aggregates of them, as those constituting light. {98} Daily

+extending its range of interpretations, it is coming to deal even

+with the components of each compound molecule on the same principles.

+And the unions and disunions of such more or less compound molecules,

+which constitute the phenomena of Chemistry, are also being conceived

+as resultant phenomena of essentially kindred natures—the affinities

+of molecules for one another, and their reactions in relation to

+light, heat, and other modes of force, being regarded as consequent

+on the combinations of the various mechanically-determined motions of

+their various components. Without at all out-running, however, this

+progress in the mechanical interpretation of molecular phenomena, it

+suffices to point out that the indispensable elements in any chemical

+conception are units occupying places in space, and exerting forces on

+one another. This, then, is the common character of all these sciences

+which we at present group under the names of Mechanics, Physics,

+Chemistry. Leaving undiscussed the question whether it is possible to

+conceive of force apart from extended somethings exerting it, we may

+assert, as beyond dispute, that if the conception of force be expelled,

+no science of Mechanics, Physics, or Chemistry remains. Made coherent,

+as these sciences are, by this bond of union, it is impossible to

+thrust among them any other science without breaking their continuity.

+We cannot place Logic between Molar Mechanics and Molecular Mechanics.

+We cannot place Mathematics between the group of propositions

+concerning the behaviour of homogeneous molecules to one another, and

+the group of propositions concerning the behaviour of heterogeneous

+molecules to one another (which we call Chemistry). Clearly these two

+sciences lie outside the coherent whole we have contemplated; separated

+from it in some radical way.

+

+By what are they radically separated? By the absence of the conception

+of force through which alone we know objects as existing or acting.

+However true it may be {99} that so long as Logic and Mathematics have

+any terms at all, these must be capable of affecting consciousness,

+and, by implication, of exerting force; yet it is the distinctive trait

+of these sciences that not only do their propositions make no reference

+to such force, but, as far as possible, they deliberately ignore it.

+Instead of being, as in all the other sciences, an element that is

+not only recognized but vital; in Mathematics and Logic, force is an

+element that is not only not vital, but is studiously not recognized.

+The terms in which Logic expresses its propositions, are symbols that

+do not profess to represent things, properties, or powers, of one

+kind more than another; and may equally well stand for the attributes

+belonging to members of some connected series of ideal curves which

+have never been drawn, as for so many real objects. And the theorems of

+Geometry, so far from contemplating perceptible lines and surfaces as

+elements in the truths enunciated, consider these truths as becoming

+absolute only when such lines and surfaces become ideal—only when the

+conception of something exercising force is extruded.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Let me now make a second re-statement, not implying acceptance of the

+doctrine of Evolution, but exhibiting with a clearness almost if not

+quite as great, these fundamental distinctions.

+

+The concrete sciences, taken together or separately, contemplate as

+their subject-matters, _aggregates_—either the entire aggregate of

+sensible existences, or some secondary aggregate separable from this

+entire aggregate, or some tertiary aggregate separable from this, and

+so on. Sidereal Astronomy occupies itself with the totality of visible

+masses distributed through space; which it deals with as made up of

+identifiable individuals occupying specified places, and severally

+standing towards one another, towards sub-groups, and towards the

+entire group, in defined ways. Planetary Astronomy, cutting out of this

+all-including aggregate that {100} relatively minute part constituting

+the Solar System, deals with this as a whole—observes, measures, and

+calculates the sizes, shapes, distances, motions, of its primary,

+secondary, and tertiary members; and, taking for its larger inquiries

+the mutual actions of all these members as parts of a coordinated

+assemblage, takes for its smaller inquiries the actions of each member

+considered as an individual, having a set of intrinsic activities that

+are modified by a set of extrinsic activities. Restricting itself to

+one of these aggregates, which admits of close examination, Geology

+(using this word in its comprehensive meaning) gives an account of

+terrestrial actions and terrestrial structures, past and present; and,

+taking for its narrower problems local formations and the agencies

+to which they are due, takes for its larger problems the serial

+transformations undergone by the entire Earth. The geologist being

+occupied with this cosmically small, but otherwise vast, aggregate,

+the biologist occupies himself with small aggregates formed out of

+parts of the Earth’s superficial substance, and treats each of these

+as a coordinated whole in its structures and functions; or, when he

+treats of any particular organ, considers this as a whole made up of

+parts held in a sub-coordination that refers to the coordination of

+the entire organism. To the psychologist he leaves those specialized

+aggregates of functions which adjust the actions of organisms to the

+complex activities surrounding them: doing this, not simply because

+they are a stage higher in speciality, but because they are the

+counterparts of those aggregated states of consciousness dealt with by

+the science of Subjective Psychology, which stands entirely apart from

+all other sciences. Finally, the sociologist considers each tribe and

+nation as an aggregate presenting multitudinous phenomena, simultaneous

+and successive, that are held together as parts of one combination.

+Thus, in every case, a concrete science deals with a real aggregate

+(or a plurality of real aggregates); and it includes as its {101}

+subject-matter whatever is to be known of this aggregate in respect

+of its size, shape, motions, density, texture, general arrangement

+of parts, minute structure, chemical composition, temperature, etc.,

+together with all the multitudinous changes, material and dynamical,

+gone through by it from the time it begins to exist as an aggregate to

+the time it ceases to exist as an aggregate.

+

+No abstract-concrete science makes the remotest attempt to do anything

+of this sort. Taken together, the abstract-concrete sciences give

+an account of the various kinds of _properties_ which aggregates

+display; and each abstract-concrete science concerns itself with a

+certain order of these properties. By this, the properties common to

+all aggregates are studied and formulated; by that, the properties of

+aggregates having special forms, special states of aggregation, etc.;

+and by others, the properties of particular components of aggregates

+when dissociated from other components. But by all these sciences the

+aggregate, considered as an individual object, is tacitly ignored; and

+a property, or a connected set of properties, exclusively occupies

+attention. It matters not to Mechanics whether the moving mass it

+considers is a planet or a molecule, a dead stick thrown into the river

+or the living dog that leaps after it: in any case the curve described

+by the moving mass conforms to the same laws. Similarly when the

+physicist takes for his subject the relation between the changing bulk

+of matter and the changing quantity of molecular motion it contains.

+Dealing with the subject generally, he leaves out of consideration the

+kind of matter; and dealing with the subject specially in relation to

+this or that kind of matter, he ignores the attributes of size and

+form: save in the still more special cases where the effect on form

+is considered, and even then size is ignored. So, too, is it with the

+chemist. A substance he is investigating, never thought of by him

+as distinguished in extension or amount, is not even required to be

+perceptible. A portion of carbon on {102} which he is experimenting,

+may or may not have been visible under its forms of diamond or

+graphite or charcoal—this is indifferent. He traces it through various

+disguises and various combinations—now as united with oxygen to form

+an invisible gas; now as hidden with other elements in such more

+complex compounds as ether, and sugar, and oil. By sulphuric acid or

+other agent he precipitates it from these as a coherent cinder, or as

+a diffused impalpable powder; and again, by applying heat, forces it

+to disclose itself as an element of animal tissue. Evidently, while

+thus ascertaining the affinities and atomic equivalence of carbon, the

+chemist has nothing to do with any aggregate. He deals with carbon

+in the abstract, as something considered apart from quantity, form,

+appearance, or temporary state of combination; and conceives it as the

+possessor of powers or properties, whence the special phenomena he

+describes result: the ascertaining of all these powers or properties

+being his sole aim.

+

+Finally, the Abstract Sciences ignore alike aggregates and the powers

+which aggregates or their components possess; and occupy themselves

+with _relations_—either with the relations among aggregates, or among

+their parts, or the relations among aggregates and properties, or the

+relations among properties, or the relations among relations. The

+same logical formula applies equally well, whether its terms are men

+and their deaths, crystals and their planes of cleavage, or plants

+and their seeds. And how entirely Mathematics concerns itself with

+relations, we see on remembering that it has just the same expression

+for the characters of an infinitesimal triangle, as for those of the

+triangle which has Sirius for its apex and the diameter of the Earth’s

+orbit for its base.

+

+I cannot see how these definitions of these groups of sciences can

+be questioned. It is undeniable that every Concrete Science gives

+an account of an aggregate or of aggregates, inorganic, organic, or

+super-organic (a society); {103} and that, not concerning itself

+with properties of this or that order, it concerns itself with the

+co-ordination of the assembled properties of all orders. It seems to

+me no less certain that an Abstract-Concrete Science gives an account

+of some order of properties, general or special; not caring about the

+other traits of an aggregate displaying them, and not recognizing

+aggregates at all further than is implied by discussion of the

+particular order of properties. And I think it is equally clear that

+an Abstract Science, freeing its propositions, so far as the nature

+of thought permits, from aggregates and properties, occupies itself

+with relations of co-existence and sequence, as disentangled from

+all particular forms of being and action. If then these three groups

+of sciences are, respectively, accounts of _aggregates_, accounts

+of _properties_, accounts of _relations_, it is manifest that the

+divisions between them are not simply perfectly clear, but that the

+chasms between them are absolute.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Here, perhaps more clearly than before, will be seen the untenability

+of the classification made by M. Comte. Already, after setting forth

+in a general way these fundamental distinctions, I have pointed out

+the incongruities that arise when the sciences, conceived as Abstract,

+Abstract-Concrete, and Concrete, are arranged in the order proposed

+by him. Such incongruities become still more conspicuous if for these

+general names of the groups we substitute the definitions given above.

+The series will then stand thus:―

+

+ MATHEMATICS  An account of _relations_

+                         (including, under Mechanics,

+                         an account of _properties_).

+ ASTRONOMY    An account of _aggregates_.

+ PHYSICS      An account of _properties_.

+ CHEMISTRY    An account of _properties_.

+ BIOLOGY      An account of _aggregates_.

+ SOCIOLOGY    An account of _aggregates_.

+

+That those who espouse opposite views see clearly the {104} defects

+in the propositions of their opponents and not those in their own,

+is a trite remark that holds in philosophical discussions as in all

+others: the parable of the mote and the beam applies as well to men’s

+appreciations of one another’s opinions as to their appreciations of

+one another’s natures. Possibly to my positivist friends I exemplify

+this truth,—just as they exemplify it to me. Those uncommitted to

+either view must decide where the mote exists and where the beam.

+Meanwhile it is clear that one or other of the two views is essentially

+erroneous; and that no qualifications can bring them into harmony.

+Either the sciences admit of no such grouping as that which I have

+described, or they admit of no such serial order as that given by M.

+Comte.

+

+

+POSTSCRIPT REPLYING TO CRITICISMS.

+

+Among objections made to any doctrine, those which come from avowed

+supporters of an adverse doctrine must be considered, other things

+equal, as of less weight than those which come from men uncommitted

+to an adverse doctrine, or but partially committed to it. The element

+of prepossession, distinctly present in the one case and in the other

+case mainly or quite absent, is a well-recognized cause of difference

+in the values of the judgments: supposing the judgments to be otherwise

+fairly comparable. Hence, when it is needful to bring the replies

+within a restricted space, a fit course is that of dealing rather with

+independent criticisms than with criticisms which are really indirect

+arguments for an opposite view, previously espoused.

+

+For this reason I propose here to confine myself substantially,

+though not absolutely, to the demurrers entered against the foregoing

+classification by Prof. Bain, in his recent work on Logic. Before

+dealing with the more {105} important of these, let me clear the

+ground by disposing of the less important.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Incidentally, while commenting on the view I take respecting the

+position of Logic, Prof. Bain points out that this, which is the most

+abstract of the sciences, owes much to Psychology, which I place among

+the Concrete Sciences; and he alleges an incongruity between this

+fact and my statement that the Concrete Sciences are not instrumental

+in disclosing the truths of the Abstract Sciences. Subsequently he

+re-raises this apparent anomaly when saying―

+

+ “Nor is it possible to justify the placing of Psychology wholly among

+ Concrete Sciences. It is a highly analytic science, as Mr. Spencer

+ thoroughly knows.”

+

+For a full reply, given by implication, I must refer Prof. Bain to

+§ 56 of _The Principles of Psychology_, where I have contended that

+“while, under its objective aspect, Psychology is to be classed as one

+of the Concrete Sciences which successively decrease in scope as they

+increase in speciality; under its subjective aspect, Psychology is a

+totally unique science, independent of, and antithetically opposed to,

+all other sciences whatever.” A pure idealist will not, I suppose,

+recognize this distinction; but to every one else it must, I should

+think, be obvious that the science of subjective existences is the

+correlative of all the sciences of objective existences; and is as

+absolutely marked off from them as subject is from object. Objective

+Psychology, which I class among the Concrete Sciences, is purely

+synthetic, so long as it is limited, like the other sciences, to

+objective data; though great aid in the interpretation of these data

+is derived from the observed correspondence between the phenomena of

+Objective Psychology as presented in other beings and the phenomena of

+Subjective Psychology as presented in one’s own consciousness. Now it

+is Subjective Psychology only which is analytic, and which affords aid

+in the {106} development of Logic. This being explained, the apparent

+incongruity disappears.

+

+A difficulty raised respecting the manner in which I have expressed the

+nature of Mathematics, may next be dealt with. Prof. Bain writes:―

+

+ “In the first place, objection may be taken to his language, in

+ discussing the extreme Abstract Sciences, when he speaks of the _empty_

+ _forms_ therein considered. To call Space and Time empty forms, must

+ mean that they can be thought of without any concrete embodiment

+ whatsoever; that one can think of Time, as a pure abstraction, without

+ having in one’s mind any concrete succession. Now, this doctrine is in

+ the last degree questionable.”

+

+I quite agree with Prof. Bain that “this doctrine is in the last

+degree questionable;” but I do not admit that this doctrine is implied

+by the definition of Abstract Science which I have given. I speak

+of Space and Time as they are dealt with by mathematicians, and as

+it is alone possible for pure Mathematics to deal with them. While

+Mathematics habitually uses in its points, lines, and surfaces, certain

+existences, it habitually deals with these as representing points,

+lines, and surfaces that are ideal; and _its conclusions are true only

+on condition that it does this_. Points having dimensions, lines having

+breadths, planes having thicknesses, are negatived by its definitions.

+Using, though it does, material representatives of extension, linear,

+superficial, or solid, Geometry deliberately ignores their materiality;

+and attends only to the truths of relation they present. Holding with

+Prof. Bain, as I do, that our consciousness of Space is disclosed by

+our experiences of Matter—arguing, as I have done in _The Principles

+of Psychology_, that it is a consolidated aggregate of all relations

+of co-existence that have been severally presented by Matter; I

+nevertheless contend that it is possible to dissociate these relations

+from Matter to the extent required for formulating them as abstract

+truths. I contend, too, that this separation is of the kind habitually

+made in other cases; as, for instance, when the general laws of motion

+are formulated (as M. Comte’s system, among {107} others, formulates

+them) in such way as to ignore all properties of the bodies dealt

+with save their powers of taking up, and retaining, and giving out,

+quantities of motion; though these powers are inconceivable apart from

+the attribute of extension, which is intentionally disregarded.

+

+Taking other of Prof. Bain’s objections, not in the order in which they

+stand but in the order in which they may be most conveniently dealt

+with, I quote as follows:―

+

+ “The law of the radiation of light (the inverse square of the

+ distance) is said by Mr. Spencer to be Abstract-Concrete, while the

+ disturbing changes in the medium are not to be mentioned except in a

+ Concrete Science of Optics. We need not remark that such a separate

+ handling is unknown to science.”

+

+It is perfectly true that “such a separate handling is unknown to

+science.” But, unfortunately for the objection, it is also perfectly

+true that no such separate handling is proposed by me, or is implied by

+my classification. How Prof. Bain can have so missed the meaning of the

+word “concrete,” as I have used it, I do not understand. After pointing

+out that “no one ever drew the line,” between the Abstract-Concrete

+and the Concrete Sciences, “as I have done it,” he alleges an anomaly

+which exists only supposing that I have drawn it where it is ordinarily

+drawn. He appears inadvertently to have carried with him M. Comte’s

+conception of Optics as a Concrete Science, and, importing it into my

+classification, debits me with the incongruity. If he will re-read

+the definition of the Abstract-Concrete Sciences, or study their

+sub-divisions as shown in Table II., he will, I think, see that the

+most special laws of the redistribution of light, equally with its most

+general laws, are included. And if he will pass to the definition and

+the tabulation of the Concrete Sciences, he will, I think, see no less

+clearly that Optics cannot be included among them.

+

+Prof. Bain considers that I am not justified in classing Chemistry as

+an Abstract-Concrete Science, and excluding from it all consideration

+of the crude forms of the various {108} substances dealt with; and

+he enforces his dissent by saying that chemists habitually describe

+the ores and impure mixtures in which the elements, etc., are

+naturally found. Undoubtedly chemists do this. But do they therefore

+intend to include an account of the ores of a substance, _as a part

+of the science_ which formulates its molecular constitution and the

+constitutions of all the definite compounds it enters into? I shall be

+very much surprised if I find that they do. Chemists habitually prefix

+to their works a division treating of Molecular Physics; but they do

+not therefore claim Molecular Physics as a part of Chemistry. If they

+similarly prefix to the chemistry of each substance an outline of its

+mineralogy, I do not think they therefore mean to assert that the

+last belongs to the first. Chemistry proper, embraces nothing beyond

+an account of the constitutions and modes of action and combining

+proportions of substances that are taken as absolutely pure; and its

+truths no more recognize impure substances than the truths of Geometry

+recognize crooked lines.

+

+Immediately after, in criticizing the fundamental distinction I have

+made between Chemistry and Biology, as Abstract-Concrete and Concrete

+respectively, Prof. Bain says:―

+

+ “But the objects of Chemistry and the objects of Biology are equally

+ concrete, so far as they go; the simple bodies of chemistry, and their

+ several compounds, are viewed by the Chemist as concrete wholes, and

+ are described by him, not with reference to one factor, but to all

+ their factors.”

+

+Issue is here raised in a form convenient for elucidation of the

+general question. It is true that, _for purposes of identification_, a

+chemist gives an account of all the sensible characters of a substance.

+He sets down its crystalline form, its specific gravity, its power

+of refracting light, its behaviour as magnetic or diamagnetic. But

+does he thereby include these phenomena as part of the Science of

+Chemistry? It seems to me that the relation between the weight {109}

+of any portion of matter and its bulk, which is ascertained on

+measuring its specific gravity, is a physical and not a chemical fact.

+I think, too, that the physicist will claim, as part of his science,

+all investigations touching the refraction of light: be the substance

+producing this refraction what it may. And the circumstance that the

+chemist may test the magnetic or diamagnetic property of a body, as

+a means of ascertaining what it is, or as a means of helping other

+chemists to determine whether they have got before them the same body,

+will neither be held by the chemist, nor allowed by the physicist, to

+imply a transfer of magnetic phenomena from the domain of the one to

+that of the other. In brief, though the chemist, in his account of an

+element or a compound, may refer to certain physical traits associated

+with its molecular constitution and affinities, he does not by so

+doing change these into chemical traits. Whatever chemists may put

+into their books, Chemistry, considered as a science, includes only

+the phenomena of molecular structures and changes—of compositions and

+decompositions.[12] I contend, then, that Chemistry does _not_ give an

+account of anything as a concrete whole, in the same way that Biology

+gives an account of an organism as a concrete whole. This will become

+even more manifest on observing the character of {110} the biological

+account. All the attributes of an organism are comprehended, from

+the most general to the most special—from its conspicuous structural

+traits to its hidden and faint ones; from its outer actions that thrust

+themselves on the attention, to the minutest sub-divisions of its

+multitudinous internal functions; from its character as a germ, through

+the many changes of size, form, organization, and habit, it goes

+through until death; from the physical characters of it as a whole,

+to the physical characters of its microscopic cells, and vessels, and

+fibres; from the chemical characters of its substance in general to

+the chemical characters of each tissue and each secretion—all these,

+with many others. And not only so, but there is comprehended as the

+ideal goal of the science, the _consensus_ of all these phenomena

+in their co-existences and successions, as constituting a coherent

+individualized group definitely combined in space and in time. It is

+this recognition of _individuality_ in its subject-matter, that gives

+its concreteness to Biology, as to every other Concrete Science. As

+Astronomy deals with bodies that have their several proper names, or

+(as with the smaller stars) are registered by their positions, and

+considers each of them as a distinct individual—as Geology, while dimly

+perceiving in the Moon and nearest planets other groups of geological

+phenomena (which it would deal with as independent wholes, did not

+distance forbid), occupies itself with that individualized group

+presented by the Earth; so Biology treats either of an individual

+distinguished from all others, or of parts or products belonging to

+such an individual, or of structural or functional traits common to

+many such individuals that have been observed, and supposed to be

+common to others that are like them in most or all of their attributes.

+Every biological truth connotes a specifically individualized object,

+or a number of specifically individualized objects of the same kind,

+or numbers of different kinds that are severally specific. See, then,

+the contrast. {111} The truths of the Abstract-Concrete Sciences do

+not imply specific individuality. Neither Molar Physics, nor Molecular

+Physics, nor Chemistry, concerns itself with this. The laws of motion

+are expressed without any reference whatever to the sizes or shapes

+of the moving masses; which may be taken indifferently to be suns or

+atoms. The relations between contraction and the escape of molecular

+motion, and between expansion and the absorption of molecular motion,

+are expressed in their general forms without reference to the kind

+of matter; and, if the degree of either that occurs in a particular

+kind of matter is formulated, no note is taken of the quantity of that

+matter, much less of its individuality. Similarly with Chemistry.

+When it inquires into the atomic weight, the molecular structure, the

+atomicity, the combining proportions, etc., of a substance, it is

+indifferent whether a grain or a ton be thought of—the conception of

+amount is absolutely irrelevant. And so with more special attributes.

+Sulphur, considered chemically, is not sulphur under its crystalline

+form, or under its allotropic viscid form, or as a liquid, or as a gas;

+but it is sulphur considered apart from those attributes of quantity,

+and shape, and state, that give individuality.

+

+Prof. Bain objects to the division I have drawn between the Concrete

+Science of Astronomy and that Abstract-Concrete Science which deals

+with the mutually-modified motions of hypothetical masses in space, as

+“not a little arbitrary.” He says:―

+

+  “We can suppose a science to confine itself _solely_ to the

+ ‘factors,’ or the separated elements, and never, on any occasion, to

+ combine two into a composite third. This position is intelligible,

+ and possibly defensible. For example, in Astronomy, the Law of

+ Persistence of Motion in a straight line might be discussed in pure

+ ideal separation; and so, the Law of Gravity might be discussed in

+ equally pure separation—both under the Abstract-Concrete department

+ of Mechanics. It might then be reserved to a _concrete_ department to

+ unite these in the explanation of a projectile or of a planet. Such,

+ however, is not Mr. Spencer’s boundary line. He allows Theoretical

+ Mechanics to make this particular combination, and to arrive at the

+ laws of {112} planetary movement, _in the case of a single planet_.

+ What he does not allow is, to proceed to the case of two planets,

+ mutually disturbing one another, or a planet and a satellite, commonly

+ called the ‘problem of the Three Bodies.’”

+

+If I held what Prof. Bain supposes me to hold, my position would be

+an absurd one; but he misapprehends me. The misapprehension results

+in part from his having here, as before, used the word “concrete”

+with the Comtean meaning, as though it were my meaning; and in part

+from the inadequacy of my explanation. I did not in the least mean to

+imply that the Abstract-Concrete Science of Mechanics, when dealing

+with the motions of bodies in space, is limited to the interpretation

+of planetary movement such as it would be did only a single planet

+exist. It never occurred to me that my words might be so construed.

+Abstract-Concrete problems admit, in fact, of being complicated

+indefinitely, without going in the least beyond the definition. I do

+not draw the line, as Prof. Bain alleges, between the combination of

+two factors and the combination of three, or between the combination

+of any number and any greater number. I draw the line between the

+science which deals with the theory of the factors, taken singly and

+in combinations of two, three, four, or more, and the science which,

+_giving to these factors the values derived from observations of actual

+objects, uses the theory to explain actual phenomena_.

+

+It is true that, in these departments of science, no radical

+distinction is consistently recognized between theory and the

+applications of theory. As Prof. Bain says:―

+

+ “Newton, in the First Book of the Principia, took up the problem of

+ the Three Bodies, as applied to the Moon, and worked it to exhaustion.

+ So writers on Theoretical Mechanics continue to include the Three

+ Bodies, Precession, and the Tides.”

+

+But, supreme though the authority of Newton may be as a mathematician

+and astronomer, and weighty as are the names of Laplace and Herschel,

+who in their works have similarly mingled theorems and the explanations

+yielded by them, it does not seem to me that these facts go for

+much; {113} unless it can be shown that these writers intended thus

+to enunciate the views at which they had arrived respecting the

+classification of the sciences. Such a union as that presented in

+their works, adopted merely for the sake of convenience, is, in fact,

+the indication of incomplete development; and has been paralleled in

+simpler sciences which have afterwards outgrown it. Two conclusive

+illustrations are at hand. The name Geometry, utterly inapplicable by

+its meaning to the science as it now exists, was applicable in that

+first stage during which its few truths were taught in preparation

+for land-measuring and the setting-out of buildings; but, at a

+comparatively early date, these comparatively simple truths became

+separated from their applications, and were embodied by the Greek

+geometers into systems of theory.[13] A like purification is now

+taking place in another division of the science. In the _Géométrie

+Descriptive_ of Monge, theorems were mixed with their applications

+to projection and plan-drawing. But, since his time, the science and

+the art have been segregating; and Descriptive Geometry, or, as it

+may be better termed, the Geometry of Position, is now recognized by

+mathematicians as a far-reaching system of truths, parts of which

+are already embodied in books that make no reference to derived

+methods available by the architect or the engineer. To meet a

+counter-illustration that will be cited, I may remark that though, in

+works on Algebra intended for beginners, the theories of quantitative

+relations, as treated algebraically, are accompanied by groups of

+problems to be solved, the subject-matters of these problems are not

+thereby made parts of the Science of Algebra. To say that they are,

+is to say that Algebra includes the conceptions of distances and

+relative speeds and times, or of weights and bulks and {114} specific

+gravities, or of areas ploughed and days and wages; since these, and

+endless others, may be the terms of its equations. And just in the

+same way that these concrete problems, solved by its aid, cannot be

+incorporated with the Abstract Science of Algebra; so I contend that

+the concrete problems of Astronomy, cannot be incorporated with that

+division of Abstract-Concrete Science which develops the theory of the

+inter-actions of free bodies that attract one another.

+

+On this point I find myself at issue, not only with Prof. Bain, but

+also with Mr. Mill, who contends that:―

+

+ “There _is_ an abstract science of astronomy, namely, the theory of

+ gravitation, which would equally agree with and explain the facts of a

+ totally different solar system from the one of which our earth forms a

+ part. The actual facts of our own system, the dimensions, distances,

+ velocities, temperatures, physical constitution, etc., of the sun,

+ earth, and planets, are properly the subject of a concrete science,

+ similar to natural history; but the concrete is more inseparably

+ united to the abstract science than in any other case, since the

+ few celestial facts really accessible to us are nearly all required

+ for discovering and proving the law of gravitation as an universal

+ property of bodies, and have therefore an indispensable place in

+ the abstract science as its fundamental data.”—_Auguste Comte and_

+ _Positivism_, p. 43.

+

+In this explanation, Mr. Mill recognizes the fundamental distinction

+between the Concrete Science of Astronomy, dealing with the bodies

+actually distributed in space, and a science dealing with hypothetical

+bodies hypothetically distributed in space. Nevertheless, he regards

+these sciences as not separable; because the second derives from

+the first the data whence the law of inter-action is derived. But

+the truth of this premiss, and the legitimacy of this inference,

+may alike be questioned. The discovery of the law of inter-action

+was not due primarily, but only secondarily, to observation of the

+heavenly bodies. The conception of an inter-acting force that varies

+inversely as the square of the distance, is an _à priori_ conception

+rationally deducible from mechanical and geometrical considerations.

+Though unlike in derivation to the many empirical hypotheses of Kepler

+respecting planetary orbits and planetary motions, yet it was {115}

+like the successful among these in its relation to astronomical

+phenomena: it was one of many possible hypotheses, which admitted of

+having their consequences worked out and tested; and one which, on

+having its implications compared with the results of observation,

+was found to explain them. In short, the theory of gravitation grew

+out of experiences of terrestrial phenomena; but the verification

+of it was reached through experiences of celestial phenomena.

+Passing now from premiss to inference, I do not see that, even

+were the alleged parentage substantiated, it would necessitate the

+supposed inseparability; any more than the descent of Geometry from

+land-measuring necessitates a persistent union of the two. In the case

+of Algebra, as above indicated, the disclosed laws of quantitative

+relations hold throughout multitudinous orders of phenomena that are

+extremely heterogeneous; and this makes conspicuous the distinction

+between the theory and its applications. Here the laws of quantitative

+relations among masses, distances, velocities, and momenta, being

+applied mainly (though not exclusively) to the concrete cases presented

+by Astronomy, the distinction between the theory and its applications

+is less conspicuous. But, intrinsically, it is as great in the one case

+as in the other.

+

+How great it is, we shall see on taking an analogy. This is a living

+man, of whom we may know little more than that he is a visible,

+tangible person; or of whom we may know enough to form a voluminous

+biography. Again, this book tells of a fictitious hero, who, like the

+heroes of old romance, may be an impersonated virtue or vice, or,

+like a modern hero, one of mixed nature, whose various motives and

+consequent actions are elaborated into a semblance of reality. But

+no accuracy and completeness of the picture makes this fictitious

+personage an actual personage, or brings him any nearer to one. Nor

+does any meagreness in our knowledge of a real man reduce him any

+nearer to the imaginary being of a novel. To the {116} last, the

+division between fiction and biography remains an impassable gulf.

+So, too, remains the division between the Science dealing with the

+inter-actions of hypothetical bodies in space, and the Science dealing

+with the inter-actions of existing bodies in space. We may elaborate

+the first to any degree whatever by the introduction of three, four, or

+any greater number of factors under any number of assumed conditions,

+until we symbolize a solar system; but to the last an account of our

+symbolic solar system is as far from an account of the actual solar

+system as fiction is from biography.

+

+Even more obvious, if it be possible, does the radical character

+of this distinction become, on observing that from the simplest

+proposition of General Mechanics we may pass to the most complex

+proposition of Celestial Mechanics, without a break. We take a body

+moving at a uniform velocity, and commence with the proposition that

+it will continue so to move for ever. Next, we state the law of its

+accelerated motion in the same line, when subject to a uniform force.

+We further complicate the proposition by supposing the force to

+increase in consequence of approach towards an attracting body; and we

+may formulate a series of laws of acceleration, resulting from so many

+assumed laws of increasing attraction (of which the law of gravitation

+is one). Another factor may now be added by supposing the body to have

+motion in a direction other than that of the attracting body; and we

+may determine, according to the ratios of the supposed forces, whether

+its course will be hyperbolic, parabolic, elliptical, or circular—we

+may begin with this hypothetical additional force as infinitesimal, and

+formulate the varying results as it is little by little increased. The

+problem is complicated a degree more by taking into account the effects

+of a third force, acting in some other direction; and beginning with an

+infinitesimal amount of this force we may reach any amount. Similarly,

+by introducing factor after factor, {117} each at first insensible in

+proportion to the rest, we arrive, through an infinity of gradations,

+at a combination of any complexity.

+

+Thus, then, the Science which deals with the inter-action of

+hypothetical bodies in space, is _absolutely continuous_ with General

+Mechanics. We have already seen that it is _absolutely discontinuous_

+with that account of the heavenly bodies which has been called

+Astronomy from the beginning. When these facts are recognized, it seems

+to me that there cannot remain a doubt respecting its true place in a

+classification of the Sciences.

+

+

+ENDNOTES TO _THE CLASSIFICATION OF THE SCIENCES_.

+

+[2] I have been charged with misrepresenting Kant and misunderstanding

+him, because I have used the expression “forms of Thought” instead of

+“forms of Intuition.” Elsewhere I have shown that my argument against

+him remains equally valid when the phrase “forms of Intuition” is used.

+Here I may in the first place add that I did but follow some Kantists

+in saying “forms of Thought,” and I may add in the second place that

+the objection is superficial and quite irrelevant to the issue. Thought

+when broadly used as antithetical to Things includes Intuition: it

+comprehends in this sense all that is subjective as distinguished from

+all that is objective, and in so doing comprehends Intuition. Nor is

+this all. There cannot be Intuition without Thought: every act of

+intuition implies an act of classing without which the thing intuited

+is not known as such or such; and every act of classing is an act of

+thought.

+

+[3] Some propositions laid down by M. Littré, in his book—_Auguste

+Comte et la Philosophie Positive_ (published in 1863), may fitly be

+dealt with here. In the candid and courteous reply he makes to my

+strictures on the Comtean classification in “The Genesis of Science,”

+he endeavours to clear up some of the inconsistencies I pointed out;

+and he does this by drawing a distinction between objective generality

+and subjective generality. He says—“qu’il existe deux ordres de

+généralité, l’une objective et dans les choses, l’autre subjective,

+abstraite et dans l’esprit.” This sentence, in which M. Littré makes

+subjective generality synonymous with abstractness, led me at first

+to conclude that he had in view the same distinction as that which

+I have above explained between generality and abstractness. On

+re-reading the paragraph, however, I found this was not the case. In

+a previous sentence he says—“La biologie a passé de la considération

+des organes à celles des tissus, plus généraux que les organes, et

+de la considération des tissus à celle des éléments anatomiques,

+plus généraux que les tissus. Mais cette généralité croissante est

+subjective non objective, abstraite non concrète.” Here it is manifest

+that abstract and concrete, are used in senses analogous to those in

+which they are used by M. Comte; who, as we have seen, regards general

+physiology as abstract and zoology and botany as concrete. And it is

+further manifest that the word abstract, as thus used, is not used

+in its proper sense. For, as above shown, no such facts as those of

+anatomical structure can be abstract facts; but can only be more or

+less general facts. Nor do I understand M. Littré’s point of view

+when he regards these more general facts of anatomical structure, as

+_subjectively_ general and not _objectively_ general. The structural

+phenomena presented by any tissue, such as mucous membrane, are more

+general than the phenomena presented by any of the organs which mucous

+membrane goes to form, simply in the sense that the phenomena peculiar

+to the membrane are repeated in a greater number of instances than

+the phenomena peculiar to any organ into the composition of which the

+membrane enters. And, similarly, such facts as have been established

+respecting the anatomical elements of tissues, are more general than

+the facts established respecting any particular tissue, in the sense

+that they are facts which the various parts of organized bodies exhibit

+in a greater number of cases—they are _objectively_ more general; and

+they can be called _subjectively_ more general only in the sense that

+the conception corresponds with the phenomena.

+

+Let me endeavour to clear up this point:—There is, as M. Littré

+truly says, a decreasing generality that is objective. If we omit

+the phenomena of Dissolution, which are changes from the special to

+the general, all changes which matter undergoes are from the general

+to the special—are changes involving a decreasing generality in the

+united groups of attributes. This is the progress of _things_. The

+progress of _thought_, is not only in the same direction, but also

+in the opposite direction. The investigation of Nature discloses an

+increasing number of specialities; but it simultaneously discloses more

+and more the generalities within which these specialities fall. Take a

+case. Zoology, while it goes on multiplying the number of its species,

+and getting a more complete knowledge of each species (decreasing

+generality); also goes on discovering the common characters by which

+species are united into larger groups (increasing generality). Both

+these are subjective processes; and in this case, both orders of truth

+reached are concrete—formulate the phenomena as actually manifested.

+The truth that mammals of all kinds have seven cervical vertebræ (I

+believe there is one exception) is a generalization—a general relation

+in thought answering to a general relation in things. As the existence

+of seven cervical vertebræ in each mammal is a concrete fact, the

+statement of it is a concrete truth, and the statement colligating such

+truths is not made other than concrete by holding of case after case.

+

+M. Littré, recognizing the necessity for some modification of the

+hierarchy of the Sciences, as enunciated by M. Comte, still regards it

+as substantially true; and for proof of its validity, he appeals mainly

+to the essential _constitutions_ of the Sciences. It is unnecessary

+for me here to meet, in detail, the arguments by which he supports

+the proposition, that the essential constitutions of the Sciences,

+justify the order in which M. Comte places them. It will suffice to

+refer to the foregoing pages, and to the pages which are to follow, as

+containing the definitions of those fundamental characteristics which

+demand the grouping of the Sciences in the way I have pointed out. As

+already shown, and as will be shown still more clearly by and bye, the

+radical differences of constitution among the Sciences, necessitate the

+colligation of them into the three classes—Abstract, Abstract-Concrete,

+and Concrete. How irreconcilable is M. Comte’s classification with

+these groups, will be at once apparent on inspection. It stands thus:―

+

+ Mathematics

+  (including rational Mechanics),    partly Abstract, partly

+                                       Abstract-Concrete.

+ Astronomy                           Concrete.

+ Physics                             Abstract-Concrete.

+ Chemistry                           Abstract-Concrete.

+ Biology                             Concrete.

+ Sociology                           Concrete.

+

+[4] This definition includes the laws of relations called necessary,

+but not those of relations called contingent. These last, in which the

+probability of an inferred connexion varies with the number of times

+such connexion has occurred in experience, are rightly dealt with

+mathematically.

+

+[5] Here, by way of explanation of the term negatively-quantitative,

+it will suffice to instance the proposition that certain three lines

+will meet in a point, as a negatively-quantitative proposition;

+since it asserts the absence of any quantity of space between their

+intersections. Similarly, the assertion that certain three points will

+always fall in a straight line, is negatively-quantitative; since the

+conception of a straight line implies the negation of any lateral

+quantity, or deviation.

+

+[6] Lest the meaning of this division should not be understood, it may

+be well to name, in illustration, the estimates of the statistician.

+Calculations respecting population, crime, disease, etc., have

+results which are correct only numerically, and not in respect of the

+totalities of being or action represented by the numbers.

+

+[7] Perhaps it will be asked—how can there be a Geometry of Motion into

+which the conception of Force does not enter? The reply is, that the

+time-relations and space-relations of Motion may be considered apart

+from those of Force, in the same way that the space-relations of Matter

+may be considered apart from Matter.

+

+[8] I am indebted to Prof. Frankland for reminding me of an objection

+that may be made to this statement. The production of new compounds

+by synthesis, has of late become an important branch of chemistry.

+According to certain known laws of composition, complex substances,

+which never before existed, are formed, and fulfil anticipations both

+as to their general properties and as to the proportions of their

+constituents—as proved by analysis. Here it may be said with truth,

+that analysis is used to verify synthesis. Nevertheless, the exception

+to the above statement is apparent only,—not real. In so far as the

+production of new compounds is carried on merely for the obtainment

+of such new compounds, it is not Science but Art—the application of

+pre-established knowledge to the achievement of ends. The proceeding

+is a part of Science, only in so far as it is a means to the better

+interpretation of the order of Nature. And how does it aid the

+interpretation? It does it only by verifying the pre-established

+conclusions respecting the laws of molecular combination; or by serving

+further to explain them. That is to say, these syntheses, considered

+on their scientific side, have simply the purpose of _forwarding the

+analysis of the laws of chemical combination_.

+

+[9] This must not be supposed to mean chemically-produced forces. The

+molecular motion here referred to as dissipated in radiations, is the

+equivalent of that sensible motion lost during the integration of the

+mass of molecules, consequent on their mutual gravitation.

+

+[10] Embracing the interpretation of such phenomena as the solar spots,

+the faculæ and the coronal flames.

+

+[11] Want of space prevents anything beyond the briefest indication of

+these subdivisions.

+

+[12] Perhaps some will say that such incidental phenomena as those of

+the heat and light evolved during chemical changes, are to be included

+among chemical phenomena. I think, however, the physicist will hold

+that all phenomena of re-distributed molecular motion, no matter how

+arising, come within the range of Physics. But whatever difficulty

+there may be in drawing the line between Physics and Chemistry (and,

+as I have incidentally pointed out in _The Principles of Psychology_,

+§ 55, the two are closely linked by the phenomena of allotropy and

+isomerism), applies equally to the Comtean classification, or to any

+other. And I may further point out that no obstacle hence arises to the

+classification I am defending. Physics and Chemistry being both grouped

+by me as Abstract-Concrete Sciences, no difficulty in satisfactorily

+dividing them in the least affects the satisfactoriness of the division

+of the great group to which they both belong, from the other two great

+groups.

+

+[13] It may be said that the mingling of problems and theorems in

+Euclid is not quite consistent with this statement; and it is true that

+we have, in this mingling, a trace of the earlier form of the science.

+But it is to be remarked that these problems are all purely abstract,

+and, further, that each of them admits of being expressed as a theorem.

+

+

+

+

+{118}

+

+REASONS FOR DISSENTING FROM THE PHILOSOPHY OF M. COMTE.

+

+

+[_Originally published in April 1864 as an appendix to the foregoing

+essay._]

+

+While the preceding pages were passing through the press, there

+appeared in the _Revue des Deux Mondes_ for February 15th, 1864, an

+article on a late work of mine—_First Principles_. To M. Auguste

+Laugel, the writer of the article, I am much indebted for the careful

+exposition he has made of some of the leading views set forth in that

+work; and for the catholic and sympathetic spirit in which he has dealt

+with them. In one respect, however, M. Laugel conveys to his readers

+an erroneous impression—an impression doubtless derived from what

+appears to him adequate evidence, and doubtless expressed in perfect

+sincerity. M. Laugel describes me as being, in part, a follower of

+M. Comte. After describing the influence of M. Comte as traceable in

+the works of some other English writers, naming especially Mr. Mill

+and Mr. Buckle, he goes on to say that this influence, though not

+avowed, is easily recognizable in the work he is about to make known;

+and in several places throughout his review, there are remarks having

+the same implication. I greatly regret having to take exception to

+anything said by a critic so candid and so able. But the _Revue des

+Deux Mondes_ {119} circulates widely in England, as well as elsewhere;

+and finding that there exists in some minds, both here and in America,

+an impression similar to that entertained by M. Laugel—an impression

+likely to be confirmed by his statement—it appears to me needful to

+meet it.

+

+Two causes of quite different kinds, have conspired to diffuse the

+erroneous belief that M. Comte is an accepted exponent of scientific

+opinion. His bitterest foes and his closest friends, have unconsciously

+joined in propagating it. On the one hand, M. Comte having designated

+by the term “Positive Philosophy” all that definitely-established

+knowledge which men of science have been gradually organizing into

+a coherent body of doctrine; and having habitually placed this in

+opposition to the incoherent body of doctrine defended by theologians;

+it has become the habit of the theological party to think of the

+antagonist scientific party, under the title of “positivists.” And

+thus, from the habit of calling them “positivists,” there has grown

+up the assumption that they call themselves “positivists,” and that

+they are disciples of M. Comte. On the other hand, those who have

+accepted M. Comte’s system, and believe it to be the philosophy of the

+future, have naturally been prone to see everywhere the signs of its

+progress; and wherever they have found opinions in harmony with it,

+have ascribed these opinions to the influence of its originator. It

+is always the tendency of discipleship to magnify the effects of the

+master’s teachings; and to credit the master with all the doctrines he

+teaches. In the minds of his followers, M. Comte’s name is associated

+with scientific thinking, which, in many cases, they first understood

+from his exposition of it. Influenced as they inevitably are by this

+association of ideas, they are reminded of M. Comte wherever they meet

+with thinking which corresponds, in some marked way, to M. Comte’s

+description of scientific thinking; and hence are apt to imagine him

+as introducing into other minds, the {120} conceptions which he

+introduced into their minds. Such impressions are, however, in most

+cases quite unwarranted. That M. Comte has given a general exposition

+of the doctrine and method elaborated by Science, is true. But it

+is not true that the holders of this doctrine and followers of this

+method, are disciples of M. Comte. Neither their modes of inquiry

+nor their views concerning human knowledge in its nature and limits,

+are appreciably different from what they were before. If they are

+“positivists,” it is in the sense that all men of science have been

+more or less consistently “positivists;” and the applicability of M.

+Comte’s title to them, no more makes them his disciples, than does its

+applicability to men of science who lived and died before M. Comte

+wrote, make these his disciples. M. Comte himself by no means claims

+that which some of his adherents are apt, by implication, to claim

+for him. He says:—“Il y a, sans doute, beaucoup d’analogie entre ma

+_philosophie positive_ et ce que les savans anglais entendent, depuis

+Newton surtout, par _philosophie naturelle_;” (see _Avertissement_) and

+further on he indicates the “grand mouvement imprimé à l’esprit humain,

+il y a deux siècles, par l’action combinée des préceptes de Bacon,

+des conceptions de Descartes, et des découvertes de Galilée, comme le

+moment où l’esprit de la philosophie positive a commencé à se prononcer

+dans le monde.” That is to say, the general mode of thought and way of

+interpreting phenomena, which M. Comte calls “Positive Philosophy,” he

+recognizes as having been growing for two centuries; as having reached,

+when he wrote, a marked development; and as being the heritage of all

+men of science.

+

+That which M. Comte proposed to do, was to give scientific thought

+and method a more definite embodiment and organization; and to apply

+it to the interpretation of classes of phenomena not previously dealt

+with in a scientific manner. The conception was a great one; and the

+endeavour to work it out was worthy of sympathy and {121} applause.

+Some such conception was entertained by Bacon. He, too, aimed at the

+organization of the sciences; he, too, held that “Physics is the mother

+of all the sciences;” he, too, held that the sciences can be advanced

+only by combining them, and saw the nature of the required combination;

+he, too, held that moral and civil philosophy could not flourish when

+separated from their roots in natural philosophy; and thus he, too,

+had some idea of a social science growing out of physical science.

+But the state of knowledge in his day prevented any advance beyond

+the general conception: indeed, it was marvellous that he should have

+advanced so far. Instead of a vague, undefined conception, M. Comte has

+presented the world with a defined and highly-elaborated conception.

+In working out this conception he has shown remarkable breadth of

+view, great originality, immense fertility of thought, unusual powers

+of generalization. Considered apart from the question of its truth,

+his system of Positive Philosophy is a vast achievement. But after

+according to M. Comte high admiration for his conception, for his

+effort to realize it, and for the faculty he has shown in the effort to

+realize it, there remains the inquiry—Has he succeeded? A thinker who

+re-organizes the scientific method and knowledge of his age, and whose

+re-organization is accepted by his successors, may rightly be said

+to have such successors for his disciples. But successors who accept

+this method and knowledge of his age, _minus_ his re-organization,

+are certainly not his disciples. How then stands the case with M.

+Comte? There are some few who receive his doctrines with but little

+reservation; and these are his disciples truly so called. There are

+others who regard with approval certain of his leading doctrines,

+but not the rest: these we may distinguish as partial adherents.

+There are others who reject all his distinctive doctrines; and these

+must be classed as his antagonists. The members of this class stand

+substantially in the same position as they would {122} have done had

+he not written. Declining his re-organization of scientific doctrine,

+they possess this scientific doctrine in its pre-existing state, as

+the common heritage bequeathed by the past to the present; and their

+adhesion to this scientific doctrine in no sense implicates them with

+M. Comte. In this class stand the great body of men of science. And in

+this class I stand myself.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Coming thus to the personal part of the question, let me first specify

+those great general principles on which M. Comte is at one with

+preceding thinkers; and on which I am at one with M. Comte.

+

+All knowledge is from experience, holds M. Comte; and this I also

+hold—hold it, indeed, in a wider sense than M. Comte; since, not

+only do I believe that all the ideas acquired by individuals, and

+consequently all the ideas transmitted by past generations, are thus

+derived; but I also contend that the very faculties by which they are

+acquired, are the products of accumulated and organized experiences

+received by ancestral races of beings (see _Principles of Psychology_).

+But the doctrine that all knowledge is from experience, is not

+originated by M. Comte; nor is it claimed by him. He himself says—“Tous

+les bons esprits répètent, depuis Bacon, qu’il n’y a de connaissances

+réelles que celles qui reposent sur des faits observés.” And the

+elaboration and definite establishment of this doctrine, has been the

+special characteristic of the English school of Psychology. Nor am I

+aware that M. Comte, accepting this doctrine, has done anything to

+make it more certain, or give it greater definiteness. Indeed it was

+impossible for him to do so; since he repudiates that part of mental

+science by which alone this doctrine can be proved.

+

+It is a further belief of M. Comte, that all knowledge is phenomenal

+or relative; and in this belief I entirely agree. But no one alleges

+that the relativity of all knowledge was first enunciated by M. Comte.

+Among others who have {123} more or less consistently held this truth,

+Sir William Hamilton enumerates, Protagoras, Aristotle, St. Augustin,

+Boethius, Averroes, Albertus Magnus, Gerson, Leo Hebræus, Melancthon,

+Scaliger, Francis Piccolomini, Giordano Bruno, Campanella, Bacon,

+Spinoza, Newton, Kant. And Sir William Hamilton, in his “Philosophy of

+the Unconditioned,” first published in 1829, has given a scientific

+demonstration of this belief. Receiving it in common with other

+thinkers, from preceding thinkers, M. Comte has not, to my knowledge,

+advanced this belief. Nor indeed could he advance it, for the reason

+already given—he denies the possibility of that analysis of thought

+which discloses the relativity of all cognition.

+

+M. Comte reprobates the interpretation of different classes of

+phenomena by assigning metaphysical entities as their causes; and I

+coincide in the opinion that the assumption of such separate entities,

+though convenient, if not indeed necessary, for purposes of thought,

+is, scientifically considered, illegitimate. This opinion is, in fact,

+a corollary from the last; and must stand or fall with it. But like the

+last it has been held with more or less consistency for generations. M.

+Comte himself quotes Newton’s favorite saying—“O! Physics, beware of

+Metaphysics!” Neither to this doctrine, any more than to the preceding

+doctrines, has M. Comte given a firmer basis. He has simply reasserted

+it; and it was out of the question for him to do more. In this case, as

+in the others, his denial of subjective psychology debarred him from

+proving that these metaphysical entities are mere symbolic conceptions

+which do not admit of verification.

+

+Lastly, M. Comte believes in invariable natural laws—absolute

+uniformities of relation among phenomena. But very many before him

+have believed in them too. Long familiar even beyond the bounds of the

+scientific world, the proposition that there is an unchanging order in

+things, has, within the scientific world, held, for generations, the

+{124} position of an established postulate: by some men of science

+recognized only as holding of inorganic phenomena; but recognized

+by other men of science, as universal. And M. Comte, accepting this

+doctrine from the past, has left it substantially as it was. Though

+he has asserted new uniformities, I do not think scientific men will

+admit that he has so demonstrated them, as to make the induction

+more certain; nor has he deductively established the doctrine, by

+showing that uniformity of relation is a necessary corollary from the

+persistence of force, as may readily be shown.

+

+These, then, are the pre-established general truths with which M.

+Comte sets out—truths which cannot be regarded as distinctive of his

+philosophy. “But why,” it will perhaps be asked, “is it needful to

+point out this; seeing that no instructed reader supposes these truths

+to be peculiar to M. Comte?” I reply that though no disciple of M.

+Comte would deliberately claim them for him; and though no theological

+antagonist at all familiar with science and philosophy, supposes M.

+Comte to be the first propounder of them; yet there is so strong a

+tendency to associate any doctrines with the name of a conspicuous

+recent exponent of them, that false impressions are produced, even in

+spite of better knowledge. Of the need for making this reclamation,

+definite proof is at hand. In the No. of the _Revue des Deux Mondes_

+named at the commencement, may be found, on p. 936, the words—“Toute

+religion, comme toute philosophie, a la prétention de donner une

+explication de l’univers. La philosophie qui s’appelle _positive_ se

+distingue de toutes les philosophies et de toutes les religions en

+ce qu’elle a renoncé à cette ambition de l’esprit humain;” and the

+remainder of the paragraph is devoted to explaining the doctrine of the

+relativity of knowledge. The next paragraph begins—“Tout imbu de ces

+idées, que nous exposons sans les discuter pour le moment, M. Spencer

+divise, etc.” Now this is one of those collocations of ideas {125}

+which tends to create, or to strengthen, the erroneous impression I

+would dissipate. I do not for a moment suppose that M. Laugel intended

+to say that these ideas which he describes as ideas of the “Positive

+Philosophy,” are peculiarly the ideas of M. Comte. But little as he

+probably intended it, his expressions suggest this conception. In the

+minds of both disciples and antagonists, “the Positive Philosophy”

+means the philosophy of M. Comte; and to be imbued with the ideas

+of “the Positive Philosophy” means to be imbued with the ideas of

+M. Comte—to have received these ideas from M. Comte. After what has

+been said above, I need scarcely repeat that the conception thus

+inadvertently suggested, is a wrong one. M. Comte’s brief enunciations

+of these general truths, gave me no clearer apprehensions of them than

+I had before. Such clarifications of ideas on these ultimate questions,

+as I can trace to any particular teacher, I owe to Sir William Hamilton.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+From the principles which M. Comte held in common with many preceding

+and contemporary thinkers, let us pass now to the principles that are

+distinctive of his system. Just as entirely as I agree with M. Comte

+on those cardinal doctrines which we jointly inherit; so entirely do I

+disagree with him on those cardinal doctrines which he propounds, and

+which determine the organization of his philosophy. The best way of

+showing this will be to compare, side by side, the―

+

+ _Propositions held by M. Comte._     _Propositions which I hold._

+

+ “. . . chacune de nos conceptions    The progress of our conceptions,

+ principales, chaque branche          and of each branch of knowledge,

+ de nos connaissances, passe          is from beginning to end

+ successivement par trois états       intrinsically alike. There are not

+ théoriques différens: l’état         three methods of philosophizing

+ théologique, ou fictif; l’état       radically opposed; but one method

+ métaphysique, ou abstrait;           of philosophizing which remains,

+ l’état scientifique, ou positif.     in essence, the same. At first,

+ En d’autres termes, l’esprit         and to the last, the conceived

+ humain, par sa nature, emploie       causal agencies of phenomena,

+ successivement dans chacune de       have a degree of generality

+ ses recherches trois méthodes de     corresponding {126} to the width

+ philosopher, dont le caractère       of the generalizations which

+ est essentiellement différent et     experiences have determined; and

+ même radicalement opposé: d’abord    they change just as gradually

+ la méthode théologique, ensuite      as experiences accumulate. The

+ la méthode métaphysique, et enfin    integration of causal agencies,

+ la méthode positive.” _Cours de_      originally thought of as

+ _Philosophie Positive_, 1830, Vol.    multitudinous and local, but

+ i. p. 3.                             finally believed to be one and

+                                      universal, is a process which

+                                      involves the passing through all

+                                      intermediate steps between these

+                                      extremes; and any appearance of

+                                      stages can be but superficial.

+                                      Supposed concrete and individual

+                                      causal agencies, coalesce in

+                                      the mind as fast as groups of

+                                      phenomena are assimilated, or seen

+                                      to be similarly caused. Along

+                                      with their coalescence, comes

+                                      a greater extension of their

+                                      individualities, and a concomitant

+                                      loss of distinctness in their

+                                      individualities. Gradually, by

+                                      continuance of such coalescences,

+                                      causal agencies become, in

+                                      thought, diffused and indefinite.

+                                      And eventually, without any change

+                                      in the nature of the process,

+                                      there is reached the consciousness

+                                      of a universal causal agency,

+                                      which cannot be conceived.[14]

+

+ “Le système théologique est          As the progress of thought is

+ parvenu à la plus haute perfection   one, so is the end one. There

+ dont il soit susceptible,            are not three possible terminal

+ quand il a substitué l’action        conceptions; but only a single

+ providentielle d’un être unique au   terminal conception. When

+ jeu varié des nombreuses divinités   the theological idea of the

+ indépendantes qui avaient été        providential action of one being,

+ imaginées primitivement. De même,    is developed to its ultimate

+ le dernier terme du système          form, by the absorption of all

+ metaphysique consiste à concevoir,   independent secondary agencies,

+ au lieu des différentes entités      it becomes the conception of a

+ particulières, une seule grande      being immanent in all phenomena;

+ entité générale, la _nature_,        and the reduction of it to

+ envisagée comme la source            this {127} state, implies the

+ unique de tous les phénomènes.       fading-away, in thought, of all

+ Pareillement, la perfection du       those anthropomorphic attributes

+ système positif, vers laquelle       by which the aboriginal idea

+ il tend sans cesse, quoiqu’il        was distinguished. The alleged

+ soit très-probable qu’il ne doive    last term of the metaphysical

+ jamais l’atteindre, serait de        system—the conception of a

+ pouvoir se représenter tous les      single great general entity,

+ divers phénomènes observables        _nature_, as the source of all

+ comme des cas particuliers d’un      phenomena—is a conception

+ seul fait général, tel que celui     identical with the previous one:

+ de la gravitation, par exemple.”     the consciousness of a single

+ p. 5.                                source which, in coming to be

+                                      regarded as universal, ceases

+                                      to be regarded as conceivable,

+                                      differs in nothing but name from

+                                      the consciousness of one being,

+                                      manifested in all phenomena. And

+                                      similarly, that which is described

+                                      as the ideal state of science—the

+                                      power to represent all observable

+                                      phenomena as particular cases

+                                      of a single general fact,

+                                      implies the postulating of some

+                                      ultimate existence of which this

+                                      single fact is alleged; and the

+                                      postulating of this ultimate

+                                      existence, involves a state of

+                                      consciousness indistinguishable

+                                      from the other two.

+

+ “. . . la perfection du système      Though along with the extension

+ positif, vers laquelle il tend       of generalizations, and

+ sans cesse, quoiqu’il soit           concomitant integration of

+ très-probable, qu’il ne doive        conceived causal agencies, the

+ jamais l’atteindre, serait de        conceptions of causal agencies

+ pouvoir se représenter tous les      grow more indefinite; and though

+ divers phénomènes observables        as they gradually coalesce into

+ comme des cas particuliers d’un      a universal causal agency,

+ seul fait general, p. 5. . . . . .   they cease to be representable

+ considérant comme absolument         in thought, and are no longer

+ inaccessible, et vide de sens        supposed to be comprehensible;

+ pour nous la recherche de ce         yet the consciousness of _cause_

+ qu’on appelle les _causes_, soit     remains as dominant to the last

+ premières, soit finales.” p. 14.     as it was at first; and can never

+                                      be got rid of. The consciousness

+                                      of cause can be abolished only

+                                      by abolishing consciousness

+                                      itself.[15] (_First Principles_, §

+                                      26.) {128}

+

+ “Ce n’est pas aux lecteurs de cet    Ideas do not govern and

+ ouvrage que je croirai jamais        overthrow the world: the world

+ devoir prouver que les idées         is governed or overthrown by

+ gouvernent et bouleversent le        feelings, to which ideas serve

+ monde, ou, en d’autres termes, que   only as guides. The social

+ tout le mécanisme social repose      mechanism does not rest finally

+ finalement sur des opinions. Ils     on opinions; but almost wholly

+ savent surtout que la grande         on character. Not intellectual

+ crise politique et morale des        anarchy, but moral antagonism, is

+ sociétés actuelles tient, en         the cause of political crises.

+ dernière analyse, à l’anarchie       All social phenomena are produced

+ intellectuelle.” p. 48.[16]           by the totality of human emotions

+                                      and beliefs; of which the emotions

+                                      are mainly pre-determined,

+                                      while the beliefs are mainly

+                                      post-determined. Men’s desires

+                                      are chiefly inherited; but their

+                                      beliefs are chiefly acquired,

+                                      and depend on surrounding

+                                      conditions; and the most important

+                                      surrounding conditions depend

+                                      on the social state which the

+                                      prevalent desires have produced.

+                                      The social state at any time

+                                      existing, is the resultant of all

+                                      the ambitions, self-interests,

+                                      fears, reverences, indignations,

+                                      sympathies, etc., of ancestral

+                                      citizens and existing citizens.

+                                      The ideas current in this social

+                                      state, must, on the average, be

+                                      congruous with the feelings of

+                                      citizens; and therefore, on the

+                                      average, with the social state

+                                      these feelings have produced.

+                                      Ideas wholly foreign to this

+                                      social state {129} cannot be

+                                      evolved, and if introduced from

+                                      without, cannot get accepted—or,

+                                      if accepted, die out when the

+                                      temporary phase of feeling which

+                                      caused their acceptance, ends.

+                                      Hence, though advanced ideas when

+                                      once established, act on society

+                                      and aid its further advance;

+                                      yet the establishment of such

+                                      ideas depends on the fitness of

+                                      the society for receiving them.

+                                      Practically, the popular character

+                                      and the social state, determine

+                                      what ideas shall be current;

+                                      instead of the current ideas

+                                      determining the social state and

+                                      the character. The modification

+                                      of men’s moral natures, caused

+                                      by the continuous discipline of

+                                      social life, which adapts them

+                                      more and more to social relations,

+                                      is therefore the chief proximate

+                                      cause of social progress. (_Social_

+                                      _Statics_, chap. xxx.)

+

+ “. . . je ne dois pas négliger       The order in which the

+ d’indiquer d’avance, comme une       generalizations of science are

+ propriété essentielle de l’échelle   established, is determined by

+ encyclopédique que je vais           the frequency and impressiveness

+ proposer, sa conformité générale     with which different classes

+ avec l’ensemble de l’histoire        of relations are repeated in

+ scientifique; en ce sens, que,       conscious experience; and this

+ malgré la simultanéité réelle et     depends, partly on _the directness_

+ continue du développement des        _with which personal welfare_

+ différentes sciences, celles qui     _is affected_; partly on _the_

+ seront classées comme antérieures    _conspicuousness of one or both the_

+ seront, en effet, plus anciennes     _phenomena between which a relation_

+ et constamment plus avancées         _is to be perceived_; partly on

+ que celles présentées comme          _the absolute frequency with which_

+ postérieures.” p. 84. . .            _the relations occur_; partly on

+  . . . . . . “Cet ordre est          their _relative frequency of_

+ déterminé par le degré de            _occurrence_; partly on their

+ simplicité, ou, ce qui revient au    _degree of simplicity_; and partly

+ même, par le degré de généralité     on their _degree of abstractness_.

+ des phénomènes.” p. 87.              (_First Principles_, 1st ed., §

+                                      36; or otherwise see “_Essay on_

+                                      _Laws in General and the Order of_

+                                      _their Discovery_.”)

+

+ “En résultat définitif, la           The sciences as arranged in this

+ mathématique, l’astronomie,          succession specified by M. Comte,

+ la physique, la chimie, la           _do not_ logically conform to the

+ physiologie, et la physique          natural and invariable hierarchy

+ sociale; telle est la formule        of phenomena; and {130} there

+ encyclopédique qui, parmi            is no serial order whatever in

+ le très-grand nombre de              which they can be placed, which

+ classifications que comportent les   represents either their logical

+ six sciences fondamentales, est      dependence or the dependence

+ seule logiquement conforme à la      of phenomena. (See _Genesis of

+ hiérarchie naturelle et invariable   Science_, and foregoing Essay.)

+ des phénomènes.”[17] p. 115.

+

+ “On conçoit, en effet, que l’étude   The historical development of

+ rationelle de chaque science         the sciences _has not_ taken

+ fondamentale exigeant la culture     place in this serial order; nor

+ préalable de toutes celles qui la    in any other serial order. There

+ précèdent dans notre hiérarchie      is no “true _filiation_ of the

+ encyclopédique, n’a pu faire de      sciences.” From the beginning,

+ progrès réels et prendre son         the abstract sciences, the

+ véritable caractère, qu’ après un    abstract-concrete sciences, and

+ grand développement des sciences     the concrete sciences, have

+ antérieures relatives à des          progressed together: the first

+ phénomènes plus généraux, plus       solving problems which the second

+ abstraits, moins compliqués, et      and third presented, and growing

+ indépendans des autres. C’est done   only by the solution of the

+ dans cet ordre que la progression,   problems; and the second similarly

+ quoique simultanée, a dû avoir       growing by joining the first

+ lieu.” p. 100.                       in solving the problems of the

+                                      third. All along there has been

+                                      a continuous action and reaction

+                                      between the three great classes

+                                      of sciences—an advance from

+                                      concrete facts to abstract facts,

+                                      and then an application of such

+                                      abstract facts to the analysis of

+                                      new orders of concrete facts. (See

+                                      _Genesis of Science_.)

+

+Such then are the organizing principles of M. Comte’s philosophy and

+my reasons for rejecting them. Leaving out of his “_Exposition_” those

+pre-established general {131} doctrines which are the common property

+of modern thinkers; these are the general doctrines which remain—these

+are the doctrines which fundamentally distinguish his system. From

+every one of them I dissent. To each proposition I oppose either a

+widely-different proposition, or a direct negation; and I not only

+do it now, but have done it from the time when I became acquainted

+with his writings. The rejection of his cardinal principles should, I

+think, alone suffice; but there are sundry other views of his, some of

+them largely characterizing his system, which I equally reject. Let us

+glance at them.

+

+ How organic beings have              This inquiry, I believe, admits

+ originated, is an inquiry which      of answer, and will be answered.

+ M. Comte deprecates as a useless     That division of Biology which

+ speculation: asserting, as he        concerns itself with the origin of

+ does, that species are immutable.    species, I hold to be the supreme

+                                      division, to which all others are

+                                      subsidiary. For on the verdict

+                                      of Biology on this matter, must

+                                      wholly depend our conception of

+                                      human nature, past, present, and

+                                      future; our theory of the mind;

+                                      and our theory of society.

+

+ M. Comte contends that of what is    I have very emphatically expressed

+ commonly known as mental science,    my belief in a subjective science

+ all that most important part         of the mind, by writing a

+ which consists of the subjective     _Principles of Psychology_, one

+ analysis of our ideas, is an         half of which is subjective.

+ impossibility.

+

+ M. Comte’s ideal of society          That form of society towards which

+ is one in which _government_         we is are progressing, I hold

+ developed to the greatest            to be one in which _government_

+ extent—in which class-functions     will be reduced to the smallest

+ are far more under conscious         amount possible, and _freedom_

+ public regulation than now—in       increased to the greatest amount

+ which hierarchical organization      possible—one in which human

+ with unquestioned authority          nature will have become so moulded

+ shall guide everything—in which     by social discipline into fitness

+ the individual life shall be         for the social state, that it will

+ subordinated in the greatest         need little external restraint,

+ degree to the social life.           but will be self-restrained—one

+                                      in which the citizen will tolerate

+                                      no interference with his freedom,

+                                      save that which maintains the

+                                      equal freedom of others—one in

+                                      which the spontaneous {132}

+                                      co-operation which has developed

+                                      our industrial system, and is now

+                                      developing it with increasing

+                                      rapidity, will produce agencies

+                                      for the discharge of nearly all

+                                      social functions, and will leave

+                                      to the primary governmental agency

+                                      nothing beyond the function of

+                                      maintaining those conditions

+                                      to free action, which make

+                                      such spontaneous co-operation

+                                      possible—one in which individual

+                                      life will thus be pushed to the

+                                      greatest extent consistent with

+                                      social life; and in which social

+                                      life will have no other end than

+                                      to maintain the completest sphere

+                                      for individual life.

+

+ M. Comte, not including in his       I conceive, on the other hand,

+ philosophy the consciousness of      that the object of religious

+ a cause manifested to us in all      sentiment will ever continue

+ phenomena, and yet holding that      to be, that which it has ever

+ there must be a religion, which      been—the unknown source of

+ must have an object, takes for his   things. While the _forms_ under

+ object—Humanity. “This Collective    which men are conscious of the

+ Life (of Society) is in Comte’s      unknown source of things, may

+ system the _Être Suprême_; the       fade away, the _substance_ of

+ only one we can _know_ therefore     the consciousness is permanent.

+ the only one we can worship.”        Beginning with causal agents

+                                      conceived as imperfectly known;

+                                      progressing to causal agents

+                                      conceived as less known and less

+                                      knowable; and coming at last to

+                                      a universal causal agent posited

+                                      as not to be known at all; the

+                                      religious sentiment must ever

+                                      continue to occupy itself with

+                                      this universal causal agent.

+                                      Having in the course of evolution

+                                      come to have for its object

+                                      of contemplation the Infinite

+                                      Unknowable, the religious

+                                      sentiment can never again (unless

+                                      by retrogression) take a Finite

+                                      Knowable, like Humanity, for its

+                                      object of contemplation.

+

+Here, then, are sundry other points, all of them important, and the

+last two supremely important, on which I am diametrically opposed to

+M. Comte; and did space permit, I could add many others. Radically

+differing from him as I thus do, in everything distinctive of his

+philosophy; and having invariably expressed my dissent, {133} publicly

+and privately, from the time I became acquainted with his writings;

+it may be imagined that I have been not a little startled to find

+myself classed as one of the same school. That any who are acquainted

+with my writings, should suppose I have any general sympathy with M.

+Comte, save that implied by preferring proved facts to superstitions,

+astonishes me.

+

+It is true that, disagreeing with M. Comte, though I do, in all those

+fundamental views that are peculiar to him, I agree with him in

+sundry minor views. The doctrine that the education of the individual

+should accord in mode and arrangement with the education of mankind,

+considered historically, I have cited from him; and have endeavoured to

+enforce it. I entirely concur in his opinion that there requires a new

+order of scientific men, whose function shall be that of co-ordinating

+the results arrived at by the rest. To him, I believe, I am indebted

+for the conception of a social _consensus_; and when the time comes for

+dealing with this conception, I shall state my indebtedness. And I also

+adopt his word, Sociology. There are, I believe, in the part of his

+writings which I have read, various incidental thoughts of great depth

+and value; and I doubt not that were I to read more of his writings, I

+should find others.[18] It is very probable, too, that I have said (as

+I am told I have) some things which M. Comte had already said. It would

+be difficult, I believe, to find two men who had no opinions in common.

+And it would be extremely strange if two men, starting from the same

+general doctrines established by modern science, should traverse some

+of the same fields of inquiry, without their lines of thought having

+any points of intersection. But {134} none of these minor agreements

+can be of much weight in comparison with the fundamental disagreements

+above specified. Leaving out of view that general community which we

+both have with the scientific thought of the age, the differences

+between us are essential, while the correspondences are non-essential.

+And I venture to think that kinship must be determined by essentials,

+and not by non-essentials.[19]

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Joined with the ambiguous use of the phrase “Positive Philosophy,”

+which has led to a classing with M. Comte of many men who either ignore

+or reject his distinctive principles, there has been one special

+circumstance that has tended to originate and maintain this classing in

+my own case. The assumption of some relationship between M. Comte and

+myself, was unavoidably raised by the title of my first book—_Social

+Statics_. When that book was published, I was unaware that this title

+had been before used: had I known the fact, I should certainly have

+adopted an alternative title which I had in view.[20] If, however,

+instead of {135} the title, the work itself be considered, its

+irrelation to the philosophy of M. Comte becomes abundantly manifest.

+There is decisive testimony on this point. In the _North British

+Review_ for August, 1851, a reviewer of _Social Statics_ says―

+

+ “The title of this work, however, is a complete misnomer. According to

+ all analogy, the phrase “Social Statics” should be used only in some

+ such sense as that in which, as we have already explained, it is used

+ by Comte, namely as designating a branch of inquiry whose end it is to

+ ascertain the laws of social equilibrium or order, as distinct ideally

+ from those of social movement or progress. Of this Mr. Spencer does

+ not seem to have had the slightest notion, but to have chosen the name

+ for his work only as a means of indicating vaguely that it proposed to

+ treat of social concerns in a scientific manner.”—p. 321.

+

+Respecting M. Comte’s application of the words _statics_ and _dynamics_

+to social phenomena, now that I know what it is, I will only say

+that while I perfectly understand how, by a defensible extension

+of their mathematical meanings, the one may be used to indicate

+social _functions in balance_, and the other social _functions out

+of balance_, I am quite at a loss to understand how the phenomena of

+_structure_ can be included in the one any more than in the other. But

+the two things which here concern me, are, first, to point out that I

+had not “the slightest notion” of giving Social Statics the meaning

+which M. Comte gave it; and, second, to explain the meaning which I

+did give it. The units of any aggregate of matter, are in equilibrium

+when they severally act and re-act on one another on all sides with

+equal forces. A state of change among them implies that there are

+forces exercised by some that are not counterbalanced by like forces

+exercised by others; and a state of rest implies the absence of such

+uncounterbalanced {136} forces—implies, if the units are homogeneous,

+equal distances among them—implies a maintenance of their respective

+spheres of molecular motion. Similarly among the units of a society,

+the fundamental condition to equilibrium, is, that the restraining

+forces which the units exercise on each other, shall be balanced. If

+the spheres of action of some units are diminished by extension of the

+spheres of action of others, there necessarily results an unbalanced

+force which tends to produce political change in the relations

+of individuals; and the tendency to change can cease, only when

+individuals cease to aggress on each other’s spheres of action—only

+when there is maintained that law of equal freedom, which it was

+the purpose of _Social Statics_ to enforce in all its consequences.

+Besides this totally-unlike conception of what constitutes Social

+Statics, the work to which I applied that title, is fundamentally at

+variance with M. Comte’s teachings in almost everything. So far from

+alleging, as M. Comte does, that society is to be re-organized by

+philosophy; it alleges that society is to be re-organized only by the

+accumulated effects of habit on character. Its aim is not the increase

+of authoritative control over citizens, but the decrease of it. A more

+pronounced individualism, instead of a more pronounced nationalism, is

+its ideal. So profoundly is my political creed at variance with the

+creed of M. Comte, that, unless I am misinformed, it has been instanced

+by a leading English disciple of M. Comte as the creed to which he

+has the greatest aversion. One point of coincidence, however, is

+recognizable. The analogy between an individual organism and a social

+organism, which was held by Plato and by Hobbes, is asserted in _Social

+Statics,_ as it is in the _Sociology_ of M. Comte. Very rightly, M.

+Comte has made this analogy the cardinal idea of this division of

+his philosophy. In _Social Statics_, the aim of which is essentially

+ethical, this analogy is pointed out incidentally, to enforce certain

+ethical considerations; and is there obviously suggested partly by the

+definition of life which {137} Coleridge derived from Schelling, and

+partly by the generalizations of physiologists there referred to (chap.

+xxx. §§. 12, 13, 16). Excepting this incidental agreement, however,

+the contents of _Social Statics_ are so entirely antagonistic to the

+philosophy of M. Comte, that, but for the title, the work would never,

+I think, have raised the remembrance of him—unless, indeed, by the

+association of opposites.[21]

+

+And now let me point out that which really _has_ exercised a profound

+influence over my course of thought. The truth which Harvey’s

+embryological inquiries first dimly indicated, which was afterwards

+more clearly perceived by Wolff, and which was put into a definite

+shape by Von Baer—the truth that all organic development is a change

+from a state of homogeneity to a state of heterogeneity—this it is from

+which very many of the conclusions which I now hold, have indirectly

+resulted. In _Social Statics_, there is everywhere manifested a

+dominant belief in the evolution of man and of society. There is also

+manifested the belief that this evolution is in both cases determined

+by the incidence of conditions—the actions of circumstances. And

+there is further, in the sections already referred to, a recognition

+of the fact that organic and social evolutions, conform to the same

+law. Falling amid beliefs in evolutions of various orders, everywhere

+determined by natural causes (beliefs {138} again displayed in the

+_Theory of Population_ and in the _Principles of Psychology_); the

+formula of Von Baer set up a process of organization. The extension

+of it to other kinds of phenomena than those of individual and social

+bodies, is traceable through successive stages. It may be seen in the

+last paragraph of an essay on “The Philosophy of Style,” published in

+October, 1852; again in an essay on “Manners and Fashion,” published

+in April, 1854; and then, in a comparatively advanced form, in an

+essay on “Progress: its Law and Cause,” published in April, 1857.

+Afterwards, there came the recognition of the need for modifying Von

+Baer’s formula by including the trait of increasing definiteness; next

+the inquiry into those general laws of force from which this universal

+transformation necessarily results; next the deduction of these from

+the ultimate law of the persistence of force; next the perception that

+there is everywhere a process of Dissolution complementary to that of

+Evolution; and, finally, the determination of the conditions (specified

+in the foregoing essay) under which Evolution and Dissolution

+respectively occur. The filiation of these results is, I think,

+tolerably manifest. The process has been one of continuous development,

+set up by the addition of Von Baer’s law to a number of ideas that were

+in harmony with it. And I am not conscious of any other influences by

+which the process has been affected.

+

+It is possible, however, that there may have been influences of which

+I am not conscious; and my opposition to M. Comte’s system may have

+been one of them. The presentation of antagonistic thoughts, often

+produces greater definiteness and development of one’s own thoughts. It

+is probable that the doctrines set forth in the essay on “The Genesis

+of Science,” might never have been reached, had not my dissent from M.

+Comte’s conception, led me to work them out; and but for this, I might

+not have arrived at the classification of the sciences exhibited in the

+foregoing essay. Possibly there are other cases in which the stimulus

+of {139} repugnance to M. Comte’s views, may have aided in elaborating

+my own views; though I cannot call to mind any other cases.

+

+Let it by no means be supposed from all I have said, that I do not

+regard M. Comte’s speculations as of value. True or untrue, his system

+as a whole, has doubtless produced important and salutary revolutions

+of thought in many minds; and will doubtless do so in many more.

+Doubtless, too, not a few of those who dissent from his general

+views, have been healthfully stimulated by consideration of them. The

+presentation of scientific knowledge and method as a whole, whether

+rightly or wrongly co-ordinated, cannot have failed greatly to widen

+the conceptions of most of his readers. And he has done especial

+service by familiarizing men with the idea of a social science, based

+on the other sciences. Beyond which benefits resulting from the general

+character and scope of his philosophy, I believe that there are

+scattered through his pages many large ideas that are valuable not only

+as stimuli, but for their actual truth.

+

+It has been by no means an agreeable task to make these personal

+explanations; but it has seemed to me a task not to be avoided.

+Differing so profoundly as I do from M. Comte on all fundamental

+doctrines, save those which we inherit in common from the past; it

+has become needful to dissipate the impression that I agree with

+him—needful to show that a large part of what is currently known as

+“positive philosophy,” is not “positive philosophy” in the sense of

+being peculiarly M. Comte’s philosophy; and to show that beyond that

+portion of the so-called “positive philosophy” which is not peculiar to

+him, I dissent from it.

+

+And now at the close, as at the outset, let me express my great regret

+that these explanations should have been called forth by the statements

+of a critic who has treated me so liberally. Nothing will, I fear,

+prevent the foregoing pages from appearing like a very ungracious

+response to M. Laugel’s sympathetically-written review. I can only

+hope that the gravity of the question at issue, in so far as it {140}

+concerns myself, may be taken in mitigation, if not as a sufficient

+apology.

+

+

+NOTE.

+

+ _The preceding pages originally formed the second portion of a_

+ _pamphlet entitled_ The Classification of the Sciences: to which are

+ added Reasons for dissenting from the Philosophy of M. Comte, _which

+ was first published in 1864. For some time past this pamphlet has been

+ included in the third volume of my_ Essays, &c., _and has been no

+ longer accessible in a separate form. There has recently been diffused

+ afresh, the misconception which originally led me to exhibit my entire

+ rejection of those views of M. Comte, which essentially distinguish

+ his system from other systems; and the motives which then prompted me

+ to publish the reasons for this rejection, now prompt me to put them

+ within the reach of all who care to inquire about the matter. The

+ Appendix, presenting an outline of the leading propositions of the

+ Synthetic Philosophy, will further aid the reader in forming a correct

+ judgment_.

+

+ _Oct. 7, 1884._

+

+

+APPENDIX A.

+

+Some fourteen or more years ago, an American friend requested me, with

+a view to a certain use which he named, to furnish him with a succinct

+statement of the cardinal principles developed in the successive works

+I had published and in those I was intending to publish. This statement

+I here reproduce. Having been written solely for an expository purpose,

+and without thought of M. Comte and his system, it will serve better

+than a statement now drawn up since it is not open to the suspicion of

+being adapted to the occasion.[22]

+

+ “1. Throughout the universe in general and in detail, there is an

+ unceasing redistribution of matter and motion.

+

+ “2. This redistribution constitutes evolution where there is a {141}

+ predominant integration of matter and dissipation of motion, and

+ constitutes dissolution where there is a predominant absorption of

+ motion and disintegration of matter.

+

+ “3. Evolution is simple when the process of integration, or the

+ formation of a coherent aggregate, proceeds uncomplicated by other

+ processes.

+

+ “4. Evolution is compound when, along with this primary change from

+ an incoherent to a coherent state, there go on secondary changes due

+ to differences in the circumstances of the different parts of the

+ aggregate.

+

+ “5. These secondary changes constitute a transformation of the

+ homogeneous into the heterogeneous—a transformation which, like the

+ first, is exhibited in the universe as a whole and in all (or nearly

+ all) its details: in the aggregate of stars and nebulae; in the

+ planetary system; in the earth as an inorganic mass; in each organism,

+ vegetal or animal (Von Baer’s law); in the aggregate of organisms

+ throughout geologic time; in the mind; in society; in all products of

+ social activity.

+

+ “6. The process of integration, acting locally as well as generally,

+ combines with the process of differentiation to render this change

+ not simply from homogeneity to heterogeneity, but from an indefinite

+ homogeneity to a definite heterogeneity; and this trait of increasing

+ definiteness, which accompanies the trait of increasing heterogeneity,

+ is, like it, exhibited in the totality of things and in all its

+ divisions and sub-divisions down to the minutest.

+

+ “7. Along with this redistribution of the matter composing any

+ evolving aggregate, there goes on a redistribution of the retained

+ motion of its components in relation to one another: this also

+ becomes, step by step, more definitely heterogeneous.

+

+ “8. In the absence of a homogeneity that is infinite and absolute,

+ that redistribution of which evolution is one phase, is inevitable.

+ The causes which necessitate it are these:―

+

+ “9. The instability of the homogeneous, which is consequent upon the

+ different exposures of the different parts of any limited aggregate to

+ incident forces. The transformations hence resulting are complicated

+ by―

+

+ “10. The multiplication of effects. Every mass and part of a mass

+ on which a force falls, sub-divides and differentiates that force,

+ which thereupon proceeds to work a variety of changes; and each

+ of these becomes the parent of similarly-multiplying changes: the

+ multiplication of them becoming greater in proportion as the aggregate

+ becomes more heterogeneous. And these two causes of increasing

+ differentiations are furthered by―

+

+ “11. Segregation, which is a process tending ever to separate unlike

+ units and to bring together like units—so serving continually to

+ sharpen, or make definite, differentiations otherwise caused.

+

+ “12. Equilibration is the final result of these transformations which

+ an evolving aggregate undergoes. The changes go on until there is

+ reached an equilibrium between the forces which all parts of the

+ aggregate are exposed to and the forces these parts oppose to them.

+ Equilibration may pass through a transition stage of balanced motions

+ (as in a planetary system) or of {142} balanced functions (as in a

+ living body) on the way to ultimate equilibrium; but the state of rest

+ in inorganic bodies, or death in organic bodies, is the necessary

+ limit of the changes constituting evolution.

+

+ “13. Dissolution is the counter-change which sooner or later every

+ evolved aggregate undergoes. Remaining exposed to surrounding

+ forces that are unequilibrated, each aggregate is ever liable to

+ be dissipated by the increase, gradual or sudden, of its contained

+ motion; and its dissipation, quickly undergone by bodies lately

+ animate and slowly undergone by inanimate masses, remains to be

+ undergone at an indefinitely remote period by each planetary and

+ stellar mass, which, since an indefinitely distant period in the past,

+ has been slowly evolving: the cycle of its transformations being thus

+ completed.

+

+ “14. This rhythm of evolution and dissolution, completing itself

+ during short periods in small aggregates, and in the vast aggregates

+ distributed through space completing itself in periods which are

+ immeasurable by human thought, is, so far as we can see, universal and

+ eternal—each alternating phase of the process predominating now in

+ this region of space and now in that, as local conditions determine.

+

+ “15. All these phenomena, from their great features down to their

+ minutest details, are necessary results of the persistence of force,

+ under its forms of matter and motion. Given these as distributed

+ through space, and their quantities being unchangeable, either

+ by increase or decrease, there inevitably result the continuous

+ redistributions distinguishable as evolution and dissolution, as well

+ as all those special traits above enumerated.

+

+ “16. That which persists unchanging in quantity but ever changing in

+ form, under these sensible appearances which the universe presents

+ to us, transcends human knowledge and conception—is an unknown and

+ unknowable power, which we are obliged to recognize as without limit

+ in space and without beginning or end in time.”

+

+These successive paragraphs set forth in the most abstract way, that

+process of transformation going on throughout the Cosmos as a whole,

+and in each larger or smaller portion of it. In _First Principles_ the

+statements contained in these paragraphs are elaborated, explained, and

+illustrated; and in subsequent volumes of the series, the purpose has

+been to interpret the several great groups of phenomena, Astronomical,

+Geological (both postponed), Biological, Psychological, Sociological,

+and Ethical, in conformity with these general laws of Evolution which

+_First Principles_ enunciates.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+If it can be shown that any one of the above propositions has been

+adopted from, or has been suggested by, the {143} Positive Philosophy,

+there will be evidence that the Synthetic Philosophy is to that extent

+indebted to it. Or if there can be quoted any expressed conviction of

+M. Comte, that the factors producing changes of all kinds, inorganic

+and organic, co-operate everywhere throughout the Cosmos in the

+same general way, and everywhere work metamorphoses having the same

+essential traits, a much more decided indebtedness may reasonably be

+supposed.

+

+So far as I know it, however, the Positive Philosophy contains none of

+the special ideas above enumerated, nor any of the more general ideas

+they involve.

+

+

+APPENDIX B.

+

+On pp. 119 and 120, I have pointed out that the followers of M. Comte,

+swayed by the spirit of discipleship, habitually ascribe to him a great

+deal which was the common inheritance of the scientific world before

+he wrote, and to which he himself laid no claim. Kindred remarks have

+since been made by others, both in England and in France—the one by Mr.

+Mill, and the other by M. Fouillée. Mr. Mill says:―

+

+ “The foundation of M. Comte’s philosophy is thus in no way peculiar

+ to him, but the general property of the age, however far as yet from

+ being universally accepted even by thoughtful minds. The philosophy

+ called Positive is not a recent invention of M. Comte, but a simple

+ adherence to the traditions of all the great scientific minds whose

+ discoveries have made the human race what it is. M. Comte has never

+ presented it in any other light. But he has made the doctrine his own

+ by his manner of treating it.”—_Auguste Comte and Positivism_, pp. 8,

+ 9.

+

+In his _Histoire de la Philosophie_, 1875, M. Alfred Fouillée writes:―

+

+ “Saint-Simon voulut successivement organiser la société à l’aide de

+ la science (prétention d’où sortit le positivisme) puis à l’aide de

+ l’industrie, et enfin à l’aide d’une religion nouvelle, capable de

+ ‘forcer chacun de ses membres à suivre le précepte de l’amour du

+ prochain.’”—p. 428.

+

+ “Les doctrines sociales de Saint-Simon, jointes au naturalisme

+ de Cabanis et de Broussais, donnèrent naissance au ‘positivisme’

+ d’Auguste Comte. {144} Ce dernier, comme Saint-Simon, voit dans la

+ science sociale ou ‘sociologie’ le terme et le but de toutes les

+ recherches scientifiques.”—p. 422.

+

+ “A cette méthode Auguste Comte ajouta des vues historiques, qu’il

+ croyait entièrement originales, sur les trois états par où passe

+ nécessairement selon lui la connaissance humaine: état théologique,

+ état métaphysique, et état scientifique. Le germe de cette théorie

+ était déjà dans Turgot.”—p. 424.

+

+ “En somme, Auguste Comte a eu le mérite d’insister sur les méthodes

+ qui conviennent aux sciences de la nature; mais il faut avouer que ces

+ méthodes étaient connues bien avant lui.”—p. 425.

+

+

+ENDNOTES TO _REASONS FOR DISSENTING FROM THE PHILOSOPHY OF M. COMTE_.

+

+[14] A clear illustration of this process, is furnished by the

+recent mental integration of Heat, Light, Electricity, etc., as

+modes of molecular motion. If we go a step back, we see that the

+modern conception of Electricity, resulted from the integration in

+consciousness, of the two forms of it involved in the galvanic battery

+and in the electric-machine. And going back to a still earlier stage,

+we see how the conception of statical electricity, arose by the

+coalescence in thought, of the previously-separate forces manifested

+in rubbed amber, in rubbed glass, and in lightning. With such

+illustrations before him, no one can, I think, doubt that the process

+has been the same from the beginning.

+

+[15] Possibly it will be said that M. Comte himself admits that what

+he calls the perfection of the positive system, will probably never be

+reached; and that what he condemns is the inquiry into the _natures_ of

+causes and not the general recognition of cause. To the first of these

+allegations I reply that, as I understand M. Comte, the obstacle to the

+perfect realization of the positive philosophy is the impossibility

+of carrying generalization so far as to reduce all particular facts

+to cases of one general fact—not the impossibility of excluding the

+consciousness of cause. And to the second allegation I reply that the

+essential principle of his philosophy is an avowed ignoring of cause

+altogether. For if it is not, _what becomes of his alleged distinction

+between the perfection of the positive system and the perfection of

+the metaphysical system_? And here let me point out that, by affirming

+exactly the opposite to that which M. Comte thus affirms, I am excluded

+from the positive school. If his own definition of positivism is to

+be taken, then, as I hold that what he defines as positivism is an

+absolute impossibility, it is clear that I cannot be what he calls a

+positivist.

+

+[16] A friendly critic alleges that M. Comte is not fairly represented

+by this quotation, and that he is blamed by his biographer, M. Littré,

+for his too-great insistance on feeling as a motor of humanity. If in

+his “Positive Politics,” which I presume is here referred to, M. Comte

+abandons his original position, so much the better. But I am here

+dealing with what is known as “the Positive Philosophy;” and that the

+passage above quoted does not misrepresent it, is proved by the fact

+that this doctrine is re-asserted at the commencement of the Sociology.

+

+[17] In 1885, during a controversy with one of M. Comte’s English

+disciples, I was blamed for speaking “of Comte as making six sciences,”

+and was told that “in all Comte’s works, except the first, he makes

+seven sciences.” As I was dealing with The Positive Philosophy, I

+thought I could not do better than give the foregoing extract from the

+_Cours de Philosophie Positive_; and it did not occur to me that I was

+called upon to see whether, in any of his later voluminous works, M.

+Comte had made a different statement. My opponent, however, enlarged

+on this “blunder,” as he politely called it: apparently oblivious of

+the fact that if it was a blunder on my part to speak of Comte as

+recognizing six sciences when in his later days he recognized seven, it

+was a much more serious blunder on the part of Comte himself to have

+long overlooked the seventh.

+

+[18] M. Comte’s “Exposition” I read in the original in 1852; and in two

+or three other places have referred to the original to get his exact

+words. The Inorganic Physics, and the first chapter of the Biology, I

+read in Miss Martineau’s condensed translation, when it appeared. The

+rest of M. Comte’s views I know only through Mr. Lewes’s outline, and

+through incidental references.

+

+[19] In his work, _Auguste Comte et la Philosophie Positive_ (1863),

+M. Littré defending the Comtean classification of the sciences from

+the criticism I made upon it in the “Genesis of Science,” deals with

+me wholly as an antagonist. The chapter he devotes to his reply, opens

+by placing me in direct opposition to the English adherents of Comte,

+named in the preceding chapter.

+

+[20] I believed at the time, and have never doubted until now, that the

+choice of this title was absolutely independent of its previous use by

+M. Comte. While writing these pages, I have found reason to think the

+contrary. On referring to _Social Statics_, to see what were my views

+of social evolution in 1850, when M. Comte was to me but a name, I met

+with the following sentence:—“Social philosophy may be aptly divided

+(as political economy has been) into statics and dynamics” (ch. xxx. §

+1). This I remembered to be a reference to a division which I had seen

+in the Political Economy of Mr. Mill. But why had I not mentioned Mr.

+Mill’s name? On referring to the first edition of his work, I found,

+at the opening of Book iv., this sentence:—“The three preceding parts

+include as detailed a view as the limits of this treatise permit, of

+what, by a happy generalization of a mathematical phrase, has been

+called the Statics of the subject.” Here was the solution of the

+question. The division had not been made by Mr. Mill, but by some

+writer (on Political Economy I supposed) who was not named by him; and

+whom I did not know. It is now manifest, however, that while I supposed

+I was giving a more extended use to this division, I was but returning

+to the original use which Mr. Mill had limited to his special topic.

+Another thing is, I think, tolerably manifest. As I evidently wished

+to point out my obligation to some unknown political economist, whose

+division I thought I was extending, I should have named him had I known

+who he was. And in that case should not have put this extension of the

+division as though it were new.

+

+[21] Let me add that the conception developed in _Social Statics_,

+dates back to a series of letters on the “Proper Sphere of Government,”

+published in the _Nonconformist_ newspaper in the latter half of

+1842, and republished as a pamphlet in 1843. In these letters will

+be found, along with many crude ideas, the same belief in the

+conformity of social phenomena to unvariable laws; the same belief

+in human progression as determined by such laws; the same belief in

+the moral modification of men as caused by social discipline; the

+same belief in the tendency of social arrangements “of themselves to

+assume a condition of _stable_ equilibrium;” the same repudiation

+of state-control over various departments of social life; the

+same limitation of state-action to the maintenance of equitable

+relations among citizens. The writing of _Social Statics_ arose from

+a dissatisfaction with the basis on which the doctrines set forth

+in those letters were placed: the second half of that work is an

+elaboration of these doctrines; and the first half a statement of the

+principles from which they are deducible.

+

+[22] Published many years since in America, this statement was

+republished in England eight years since. See _Athenæum_ for July 22nd,

+1882.

+

+

+

+

+{145}

+

+ON LAWS IN GENERAL, AND THE ORDER OF THEIR DISCOVERY.

+

+

+[_The following was contained in the first edition of_ First

+Principles. _I omitted it from the re-organized second edition,

+because it did not form an essential part of the new structure. As it

+is referred to in the foregoing pages, and as its general argument is

+germane to the contents of those pages, I have thought well to insert

+it here. Moreover, though I hope eventually to incorporate it in that

+division of the_ Principles of Sociology _which treats of Intellectual

+Progress, yet as it must be long before it can thus re-appear in its

+permanent place, and as, should I not get so far in the execution of

+my undertaking, it may never thus re-appear at all, it seems proper

+to make it more accessible than it is at present. The first and last

+sections, which served to link it into the argument of the work to

+which it originally belonged, are omitted. The rest has been carefully

+revised, and in some parts considerably altered._]

+

+The recognition of Law being the recognition of uniformity of relations

+among phenomena, it follows that the order in which different groups

+of phenomena are reduced to law, must depend on the frequency with

+which the uniform relations they severally display are distinctly

+experienced. At any given stage of progress, those {146} uniformities

+will be best known with which men’s minds have been oftenest and

+most strongly impressed. In proportion partly to the number of times

+a relation has been presented to consciousness (not merely to the

+senses), and in proportion partly to the vividness with which the terms

+of the relation have been cognized, will be the degree in which the

+constancy of connexion is perceived.

+

+The succession in which relations are generalized being thus

+determined, there result certain derivative principles to which this

+succession must more immediately and obviously conform.    The first

+is _the directness with which personal welfare is affected_. While,

+among surrounding things, many do not appreciably influence us in any

+way, some produce pleasures and some pains, in various degrees; and

+manifestly, those things of which the actions on the organism for

+good or evil are most decided, will, _cæteris paribus_, be those of

+which the laws of action are earliest observed.    Second comes _the

+conspicuousness of one or both phenomena between which a relation is

+to be perceived_. On every side are phenomena so concealed as to be

+detected only by close observation; others not obtrusive enough to

+attract notice; others which moderately solicit the attention; others

+so imposing or vivid as to force themselves on consciousness; and,

+supposing conditions to be the same, these last will of course be

+among the first to have their relations generalized.    In the third

+place, we have _the absolute frequency with which the relations occur_.

+There are coexistences and sequences of all degrees of commonness,

+from those which are ever present to those which are extremely rare;

+and manifestly, the rare coexistences and sequences, as well as the

+sequences which are very long in taking place, will not be reduced to

+law so soon as those which are familiar and rapid.    Fourthly has

+to be added _the relative frequency of occurrence_. Many events and

+appearances are limited to certain times or certain places, or both;

+{147} and, as a relation which does not exist within the environment

+of an observer cannot be perceived by him, however common it may be

+elsewhere or in another age, we have to take account of the surrounding

+physical circumstances, as well as of the state of society, of the

+arts, and of the sciences—all of which affect the frequency with which

+certain groups of facts are observable.    The fifth corollary to be

+noticed is, that the succession in which different classes of relations

+are reduced to law, depends in part on their _simplicity_. Phenomena

+presenting great composition of causes or conditions, have their

+essential relations so masked, that it requires accumulated experiences

+to impress upon consciousness the true connexions of antecedents and

+consequents they involve. Hence, other things equal, the progress of

+generalization will be from the simple to the complex; and this it is

+which M. Comte has wrongly asserted to be the sole regulative principle

+of the progress.    Sixth comes _the degree of concreteness, or absence

+of abstractness_. Concrete relations are the earliest acquisitions.

+Such analyses of them as separate the essential connexions from their

+disguising accompaniments, necessarily come later. The analyses of the

+connexions, always more or less compound, into their elements then

+becomes possible. And so on continually, until the highest and most

+abstract truths have been reached.

+

+These, then, are the several derivative principles. The frequency

+and vividness with which uniform relations are repeated in conscious

+experience, determining the recognition of their uniformity, and this

+frequency and vividness depending on the above conditions, it follows

+that the order in which different classes of facts are generalized,

+must depend on the extent to which the above conditions are fulfilled

+in each class. Let us mark how the facts harmonize with this

+conclusion: taking first a few that elucidate the general truth, and

+afterwards some that {148} exemplify the special truths which we here

+see follow from it.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+The relations earliest known as uniformities, are those subsisting

+among the common properties of matter—tangibility, visibility,

+cohesion, weight, etc. We have no trace of a time when the resistance

+offered by an object was regarded as caused by the will of the object;

+or when the pressure of a body on the hand holding it, was ascribed to

+the agency of a living being. And accordingly, these are the relations

+of which we are oftenest conscious: being, as they are, objectively

+frequent, conspicuous, simple, concrete, and of immediate personal

+concern.

+

+Similarly with the ordinary phenomena of motion. The fall of a mass on

+the withdrawal of its support, is a sequence which directly affects

+bodily welfare, is conspicuous, simple, concrete, and very often

+repeated. Hence it is one of the uniformities recognized before the

+dawn of tradition. We know of no era when ordinary movements due to

+terrestrial gravitation were attributed to volition. Only when the

+relation is obscured, as where the withdrawal of a support is not

+obvious, or, as in the case of an aërolite, where the antecedent of

+the descent is unperceived, do we find the conception of personal

+agency.    On the other hand, motions of intrinsically the same order

+as that of a falling stone—those of the heavenly bodies—long remain

+ungeneralized; and until their uniformity is seen, and indeed for a

+long time after, are construed as results of will. This difference

+is clearly not dependent on comparative complexity or abstractness,

+since the motion of a planet in an ellipse of slight eccentricity,

+is as simple and concrete a phenomenon as the motion of a projected

+arrow in an ellipse of extreme eccentricity indistinguishable from a

+parabola. But the antecedents are not conspicuous; the sequences are

+of long duration; and they are not often repeated. And that these are

+the causes of their slow {149} reduction to law, we see in the fact

+that they are severally generalized in the order of their frequency and

+conspicuousness—the moon’s monthly cycle, the sun’s annual change, the

+periods of the inferior planets, the periods of the superior planets.

+

+While astronomical sequences were still ascribed to volition,

+certain terrestrial sequences of a different kind, but some of them

+equally without complication, were interpreted in like manner. The

+solidification of water at a low temperature, is a phenomenon that is

+simple, concrete, and of much personal concern. But it is neither so

+frequent as those which we see are earliest generalized, nor is the

+presence of the antecedent so manifest. Though in all but tropical

+climates, mid-winter displays the relation between cold and freezing

+with tolerable constancy; yet, during the spring and autumn, the

+occasional appearance of ice in the mornings has no very obvious

+connexion with coldness of the weather. Sensation being so inaccurate a

+measure, it is not possible for the savage to experience the definite

+relation between a temperature of 32° and the congealing of water;

+and hence the long continued belief in personal agency. Similarly,

+but still more clearly, with the winds. The absence of regularity and

+the inconspicuousness of the antecedents, allowed the mythological

+explanation to survive for a great period.

+

+During the era in which the uniformity of many quite simple inorganic

+relations was still unrecognized, certain organic relations,

+intrinsically very complex and special, were generalized. The

+constant coexistence of feathers and a beak, of four legs with an

+internal bony framework, are facts which were, and are, familiar

+to every savage. Did a savage find a bird with teeth, or a mammal

+clothed with feathers, he would be as much surprised as an instructed

+naturalist. Now these uniformities of organic structure thus early

+perceived, are of exactly the same kind as those more numerous ones

+later established by biology. The constant {150} coexistence of

+mammary glands with two occipital condyles to the skull, of vertebræ

+with teeth lodged in sockets, of frontal horns with the habit of

+rumination, are generalizations as purely empirical as those known to

+the aboriginal hunter. The botanist cannot in the least understand

+the complex relation between papilionaceous flowers and seeds borne

+in flattened pods: he knows these and like connexions simply in the

+same way that the barbarian knows the connexions between particular

+leaves and particular kinds of wood. But the fact that sundry of the

+uniform relations which chiefly make up the organic sciences, were

+very early recognized, is due to the high degrees of vividness and

+frequency with which they were presented to consciousness. Though the

+connexion between the sounds characteristic of a certain bird, and the

+possession of edible flesh, is extremely involved, yet the two terms

+of the relation are conspicuous, often recur in experience, and a

+knowledge of their connexion has a direct bearing on personal welfare.

+Meanwhile innumerable relations of the same order, which are displayed

+with even greater frequency by surrounding plants and animals, remain

+for thousands of years unrecognized, if they are unobtrusive or of no

+apparent moment.

+

+When, passing from this primitive stage to a more advanced stage, we

+trace the discovery of those less familiar uniformities which mainly

+constitute what is distinguished as Science, we find the succession

+in which knowledge of them is reached, to be still determined in the

+same manner. This will become obvious on contemplating separately the

+influence of each derivative condition.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+How relations that have immediate bearings on the maintenance of life,

+are, other things equal, fixed in the mind before those which have no

+immediate bearings, the history of Science abundantly illustrates. The

+habits of existing uncivilized races, who fix times by moons and barter

+so many of one article for so many of another, show {151} us that

+conceptions of equality and number, which are the germs of mathematical

+science, were developed under the immediate pressure of personal

+wants; and it can scarcely be doubted that those laws of numerical

+relations which are embodied in the rules of arithmetic, were first

+brought to light through the practice of mercantile exchange. Similarly

+with geometry. The derivation of the word shows us that it originally

+included only certain methods of partitioning ground and laying out

+buildings. The properties of the scales and the lever, involving the

+first principle in mechanics, were early generalized under the stimulus

+of commercial and architectural needs. To fix the times of religious

+festivals and agricultural operations, were the motives which led

+to the establishment of the simpler astronomic periods. Such small

+knowledge of chemical relations as was involved in ancient metallurgy,

+was manifestly obtained in seeking how to improve tools and weapons.

+In the alchemy of later times, we see how greatly an intense hope of

+private benefit contributed to the disclosure of a certain class of

+uniformities. Nor is our own age barren of illustrations. “Here,” says

+Humboldt, when in Guiana, “as in many parts in Europe, the sciences

+are thought worthy to occupy the mind, only so far as they confer some

+immediate and practical benefit on society.” “How is it possible to

+believe,” said a missionary to him, “that you have left your country

+to come to be devoured by mosquitoes on this river, and to measure

+lands that are not your own?” Our coasts furnish like instances.

+Every sea-side naturalist knows how great is the contempt with which

+fishermen regard the collection of objects for the microscope or

+aquarium. Their incredulity as to the possible value of such things is

+so great, that they can scarcely be induced even by bribes to preserve

+the refuse of their nets. Nay, we need not go for evidence beyond daily

+table-talk. The demand for “practical science”—for a knowledge that

+can be brought to bear on the business of {152} life—joined to the

+ridicule commonly vented on scientific pursuits having no obvious uses,

+suffice to show that the order in which laws are discovered greatly

+depends on the directness with which knowledge of them affects our

+welfare.

+

+That, when all other conditions are the same, obtrusive relations

+will be generalized before unobtrusive ones, is so nearly a truism

+that examples appear almost superfluous. If it be admitted that by

+the aboriginal man, as by the child, the co-existent properties of

+large surrounding objects are noticed before those of minute objects,

+and that the external relations which bodies present are generalized

+before their internal relations, it must be admitted that in subsequent

+stages of progress, the comparative conspicuousness of relations

+has greatly affected the order in which they were recognized as

+uniform. Hence it happened that after the establishment of those very

+manifest sequences constituting a lunation, and those less manifest

+ones marking a year, and those still less manifest ones marking the

+planetary periods, astronomy occupied itself with such inconspicuous

+sequences as those displayed in the repeating cycle of lunar eclipses,

+and those which suggested the theory of epicycles and eccentrics;

+while modern astronomy deals with still more inconspicuous sequences,

+some of which, as the planetary rotations, are nevertheless the

+simplest which the heavens present. In physics, the early use of

+canoes implied an empirical knowledge of certain hydrostatic relations

+that are intrinsically more complex than sundry static relations

+not empirically known; but these hydrostatic relations were thrust

+upon observation. Or, if we compare the solution of the problem of

+specific gravity by Archimedes with the discovery of atmospheric

+pressure by Torricelli (the two involving mechanical relations of

+the same class), we perceive that the much earlier occurrence of the

+first than the last was determined, neither by a difference in their

+bearings on personal welfare, nor by a difference in the frequency

+with {153} which illustrations of them came under observation, nor

+by relative simplicity; but by the greater obtrusiveness of the

+connexion between antecedent and consequent in the one case than in

+the other. Among miscellaneous illustrations, it may be pointed out

+that the connexions between lightning and thunder, and between rain and

+clouds, were recognized long before others of the same order, simply

+because they thrust themselves on the attention. Or the long-delayed

+discovery of the microscopic forms of life, with all the phenomena

+they present, may be named as very clearly showing how certain groups

+of relations not ordinarily perceptible, though in other respects

+like long-familiar relations, have to wait until changed conditions

+render them perceptible. But, without further details, it needs only to

+consider the inquiries which now occupy the electrician, the chemist,

+the physiologist, to see that science has advanced, and is advancing,

+from the more conspicuous phenomena to the less conspicuous ones.

+

+How the degree of absolute frequency of a relation affects the

+recognition of its uniformity, we see in contrasting certain biological

+facts. The connexion between death and bodily injury, constantly

+displayed not only in men but in all inferior creatures, came to be

+recognized as an instance of natural causation while yet deaths from

+diseases or from some of them continued to be thought supernatural.

+Among diseases themselves, it is observable that unusual ones were

+regarded as of demoniacal origin during ages when the more frequent

+were ascribed to ordinary causes: a truth paralleled among our own

+peasantry, who by the use of charms show a lingering superstition with

+respect to rare disorders, which they do not show with respect to

+common ones, such as colds. Passing to physical illustrations, we may

+note that within the historic period whirlpools were accounted for by

+the agency of water-spirits; but we do not find that within the same

+period the disappearance of water on exposure either to the sun or to

+artificial heat was {154} interpreted in an analogous way: though a

+more marvellous occurrence, and a more complex one, its great frequency

+led to the early recognition of it as a natural uniformity. Rainbows

+and comets do not differ much in conspicuousness, and a rainbow is

+intrinsically the more involved phenomenon; but chiefly because of

+their far greater commonness, rainbows were perceived to have a direct

+dependence on sun and rain while yet comets were regarded as signs of

+divine wrath.

+

+That races living inland must long have remained ignorant of the daily

+and monthly sequences of the tides, and that tropical races could

+not early have comprehended the phenomena of northern winters, are

+extreme illustrations of the influence which relative frequency has

+on the recognition of uniformities. Animals which, where they are

+indigenous, call forth no surprise by their structures or habits,

+because these are so familiar, when taken to countries where they

+have never been seen, are looked at with an astonishment approaching

+to awe—are even thought supernatural: a fact which will suggest

+numerous others that show how the localization of phenomena shares

+in controlling the order in which they are reduced to law. Not only

+however does their localization in space affect the progression,

+but also their localization in time. Facts which are rarely if ever

+manifested in one era, are rendered very frequent in another, simply

+through the changes wrought by civilization. The lever, of which

+the properties are illustrated in the use of sticks and weapons, is

+vaguely understood by every savage—on applying it in a certain way he

+rightly anticipates certain effects; but the wheel-and-axle, pulley,

+and screw, cannot have their powers either empirically or rationally

+known till the advance of the arts has more or less familiarized them.

+Through those various means of exploration which we have inherited

+and added to, we have become acquainted with a vast range of chemical

+relations that were relatively {155} non-existent to the primitive

+man. To highly-developed industries we owe both the substances and

+the appliances that have disclosed to us countless uniformities which

+our ancestors had no opportunity of seeing. These and like instances,

+show that the accumulated materials, and processes, and products,

+which characterize the environments of complex societies, greatly

+increase the accessibility of various classes of relations; and by

+thus multiplying the experiences of them, or making them relatively

+frequent, facilitate the generalization of them. Moreover, various

+classes of phenomena presented by society itself, as for instance

+those which political economy formulates, become relatively frequent,

+and therefore recognizable, in advanced social states; while in less

+advanced ones they are either too rarely displayed to have their

+relations perceived, or, as in the least advanced ones, are not

+displayed at all.

+

+That, where no other circumstances interfere, the order in which

+different uniformities are established varies as their complexity, is

+manifest. The geometry of straight lines was understood before the

+geometry of curved lines; the properties of the circle before the

+properties of the ellipse, parabola, and hyperbola; and the equations

+of curves of single curvature were ascertained before those of curves

+of double curvature. Plane trigonometry comes in order of time and

+simplicity before spherical trigonometry; and the mensuration of

+plane surfaces and solids before the mensuration of curved surfaces

+and solids. Similarly with mechanics: the laws of simple motion were

+generalized before those of compound motion; and those of rectilinear

+motion before those of curvilinear motion. The properties of

+equal-armed levers or scales, were understood before those of levers

+with unequal arms; and the law of the inclined plane was formulated

+earlier than that of the screw, which involves it. In chemistry the

+progress has been from the simple inorganic compounds to the more

+involved or organic compounds. And where, as in the higher sciences,

+the conditions of the exploration are {156} more complicated, we still

+may trace relative complexity as determining the order of discovery

+where other things are equal.

+

+The progression from concrete relations to abstract relations, and from

+the less abstract to the more abstract, is equally obvious. Numeration,

+which in its primary form concerned itself only with groups of actual

+objects, came earlier than simple arithmetic; the rules of which deal

+with numbers apart from objects. Arithmetic, limited in its sphere

+to concrete numerical relations, is alike earlier and less abstract

+than Algebra, which deals with the relations of these relations. And

+in like manner, the Calculus of Operations comes after Algebra, both

+in order of evolution and in order of abstractness. In Mechanics, the

+more concrete relations of forces exhibited in the lever, inclined

+plane, etc., were understood before the more abstract relations

+expressed in the laws of resolution and composition of forces; and

+later than the three abstract laws of motion as formulated by Newton

+came the still more abstract law of inertia. Similarly with Physics and

+Chemistry, there has been an advance from truths entangled in all the

+specialities of particular facts and particular classes of facts, to

+truths disentangled from the disguising incidents under which they are

+manifested—to truths of a higher abstractness.

+

+Brief and rude as is this sketch of a mental development which has been

+long and complicated, I venture to think it shows inductively what

+was deductively inferred, that the order in which separate groups of

+uniformities are recognized, depends not on one circumstance but on

+several circumstances. The various classes of relations are generalized

+in a certain succession, not solely because of one particular kind

+of difference in their natures; but also because they are variously

+placed in time and in space, variously open to observation, and

+variously related to our own constitutions: our perception of them

+being influenced by all these conditions in endless combinations. The

+comparative degrees {157} of importance, of obtrusiveness, of absolute

+frequency, of relative frequency, of simplicity, of concreteness, are

+every one of them factors; and from their unions in proportions that

+are never twice alike, there results a highly complex process of mental

+evolution. But while it is thus manifest that the proximate causes of

+the succession in which relations are reduced to law, are numerous and

+involved; it is also manifest that there is one ultimate cause to which

+these proximate causes are subordinate. As the several circumstances

+that determine the early or late recognition of uniformities are

+circumstances that determine the number and strength of the impressions

+which these uniformities make on the mind, it follows that the

+progression conforms to a certain fundamental principle of psychology.

+We see _a posteriori_, what we concluded _à priori_, that the order

+in which relations are generalized, depends on the frequency and

+impressiveness with which they are repeated in conscious experience.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Having roughly analyzed the progress of the past, let us take advantage

+of the light thus thrown on the present, and consider what is implied

+respecting the future.

+

+Note, first, that the likelihood of the universality of Law has

+been ever growing greater. Out of the countless coexistences and

+sequences with which mankind are environed, they have been continually

+transferring some from the group whose order was supposed to be

+arbitrary, to the group whose order is known to be uniform. And

+manifestly, as fast as the relations which are unreduced to law become

+fewer, the probability that among them there are some which do not

+conform to law, becomes less. To put the argument numerically—It is

+clear that when out of surrounding phenomena a hundred of several kinds

+have been found to occur in constant connexions, there arises a slight

+presumption that all phenomena occur in constant connexions. When

+uniformity has been established in a thousand cases, more varied {158}

+in their kinds, the presumption gains strength. And when the known

+cases of uniformity amount to millions, including many of each variety,

+it becomes an ordinary induction that uniformity exists everywhere.

+

+Silently and insensibly their experiences have been pressing men on

+towards the conclusion thus drawn. Not out of a conscious regard

+for these reasons, but from a habit of thought which these reasons

+formulate and justify, all minds have been advancing towards a belief

+in the constancy of surrounding coexistences and sequences. Familiarity

+with concrete uniformities has generated the abstract conception of

+uniformity—the idea of _Law_; and this idea has been in successive

+generations slowly gaining fixity and clearness. Especially has it

+been thus among those whose knowledge of natural phenomena is the

+most extensive—men of science. The mathematician, the physicist,

+the astronomer, the chemist, severally acquainted with the vast

+accumulations of uniformities established by their predecessors, and

+themselves daily adding new ones as well as verifying the old, acquire

+a far stronger faith in law than is ordinarily possessed. With them

+this faith, ceasing to be merely passive, becomes an active stimulus

+to inquiry. Wherever there exist phenomena of which the dependence

+is not yet ascertained, these most cultivated intellects, impelled

+by the conviction that here too there is some invariable connexion,

+proceed to observe, compare, and experiment; and when they discover

+the law to which the phenomena conform, as they eventually do, their

+general belief in the universality of law is further strengthened. So

+overwhelming is the evidence, and such the effect of this discipline,

+that to the advanced student of Nature, the proposition that there

+are lawless phenomena has become not only incredible but almost

+inconceivable.

+

+This habitual recognition of law which already distinguishes modern

+thought from ancient thought, must spread among men at large. The

+fulfilment of fresh predictions that are made possible by every new

+step, and the further {159} command gained over Nature’s forces, prove

+to the uninitiated the validity of scientific generalizations and the

+doctrine they illustrate. Widening education is daily diffusing among

+the mass of men that knowledge of these generalizations which has been

+hitherto confined to the few. And as fast as this diffusion goes on,

+the belief of the scientific must become the belief of the world at

+large.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+That law is universal, will become an irresistible conclusion when

+it is perceived that _the progress in the discovery of laws itself

+conforms to law_; and when this perception makes it clear why certain

+groups of phenomena have been reduced to law, while other groups are

+still unreduced. When it is seen that the order in which uniformities

+are recognized, must depend on the frequency and vividness with

+which they are repeated in conscious experience; when it is seen

+that, as a matter of fact, the most common, important, conspicuous,

+concrete, and simple, uniformities were the earliest recognized,

+because they were experienced oftenest and most distinctly; it will

+by implication be seen that long after the great mass of phenomena

+have been generalized, there must remain phenomena which, from their

+rareness, or unobtrusiveness, or seeming unimportance, or complexity,

+or abstractness, are still ungeneralized.    Thus will be furnished a

+solution to a difficulty sometimes raised. When it is asked why the

+universality of law is not already fully established, there will be the

+answer that the directions in which it is not yet established are those

+in which its establishment must necessarily be latest. That state of

+things which is inferable beforehand, is just the state which we find

+to exist. If such coexistences and sequences as those of Biology and

+Sociology are not yet reduced to law, the presumption is, not that they

+are irreducible to law, but that their laws elude our present means

+of exploration. Having long ago proved uniformity throughout all the

+lower classes of relations, and having been step by step proving {160}

+uniformity throughout classes of relations successively higher and

+higher, if we have not yet succeeded with the highest classes, it may

+be fairly concluded that our powers are at fault, rather than that the

+uniformity does not exist. And unless we make the absurd assumption

+that the process of generalization, now going on with unexampled

+rapidity, has reached its limit, and will suddenly cease, we must infer

+that ultimately mankind will discover a constant order even among the

+most involved and obscure phenomena.

+

+

+

+

+{161}

+

+THE VALUATION OF EVIDENCE.

+

+

+[_First published in_ The Leader _for June 25, 1853._]

+

+With Spirit-rappings and Table-movings still the rage, and with the

+belief in Spontaneous Combustion still unextinguished, it seems

+desirable that something should be said in justification of that

+general scepticism with which the philosophical meet the alleged

+wonders that periodically turn the heads of the nation. Nothing less

+than a bulky octavo would be needed to contain all that might be

+written on the matter; and unfortunately such an octavo, when written,

+would be little read by those most requiring it. A brief hint or two,

+however, may find listeners among them.

+

+“I tell you I saw it myself,” is the so-thought conclusive assertion

+with which many a controversy is abruptly ended. Commonly those who

+make this assertion think that after it nothing remains to be urged;

+and they are astonished at the unreasonableness of those who still

+withhold their belief. Though they reject many tales of witchcraft,

+many ghost stories whose marvels were attested by eye-witnesses—though

+they have repeatedly seen stage-conjurors seem to do things which they

+do not believe were really done—though they have heard of the Automaton

+Chess-player and the Invisible Girl, and have perhaps seen explanations

+of the modes in which the public were deluded by {162} them—though in

+all these cases they know that the facts were other than the spectators

+supposed them to be; yet they cannot imagine that their own perceptions

+have been vitiated by influences like those which vitiated the

+perceptions of others. Or, to put the thing more charitably and perhaps

+more truly, they forget that such vitiations are constantly occurring.

+

+To observe correctly, though commonly thought very easy, every man

+of science knows to be difficult. Our faculties are liable to report

+falsely from two opposite causes—the presence of hypothesis, and the

+absence of hypothesis. To the dangers arising from one or other of

+these, every observation we make is exposed; and between the two it is

+hard to see any fact _quite_ truly. A few illustrations of the extreme

+distortions arising from the one cause, and the extreme inaccuracy

+consequent on the other, will justify this seeming paradox.

+

+Nearly every one is familiar with the myth prevalent on our sea-coasts,

+respecting the Barnacle Goose. The popular belief was, and indeed is

+still in some places, that the fruits on branches which hang into the

+sea become changed into shell-covered creatures called barnacles, found

+incrusting these submerged branches; and further, that these barnacles

+are in process of time transformed into the birds known as barnacle

+geese. This belief was not confined to the vulgar; it was received

+among naturalists. Nor was it with them simply an adopted rumour. It

+was based on observations which were recorded and approved by the

+highest scientific authorities, and published with their countenance.

+In a paper contained in the _Philosophical Transactions_, Sir Robert

+Moray says:—“In every shell that I opened . . . there appeared nothing

+wanting, as to the external parts, for making up a perfect sea-fowl;

+the little bill like that of a goose, the eyes marked, the head, neck,

+breast, wings, tail, and feet formed, the feathers everywhere perfectly

+shaped and blackish coloured, and the feet like those of other {163}

+waterfowl, to my best remembrance.” Now this myth respecting the

+barnacle goose has been exploded for some century and a half. To a

+modern zoologist who examines one of these cirrhipeds, as the barnacles

+are called, it seems scarcely credible that it could ever have been

+thought a chick; and what Sir Robert Moray could have taken for “head,

+neck, breast, wings, tail, feet, and feathers,” he cannot imagine.

+Under the influence of a pre-conception, here is a man of education

+describing as “a perfect sea-fowl” what is now known to be a modified

+crustacean—a creature belonging to a remote part of the animal kingdom.

+

+A still more remarkable instance of perverted observation exists

+in an old book entitled _Metamorphosis Naturalis_, &c., published

+at Middleburgh in 1662. This work, in which is attempted for the

+first time a detailed account of insect-transformations, contains

+numerous illustrative plates, in which are represented the various

+stages of evolution—larva, pupa, and imago. Those who have any

+knowledge of Entomology will recollect that the chrysalises of all our

+common butterflies exhibit at the anterior end a number of pointed

+projections, producing an irregular outline. Have they ever observed

+in this outline a resemblance to a man’s face? For myself, I can say

+that though in early days I kept brood after brood of butterfly larvæ

+through all their changes, I never perceived any such likeness; nor

+can I see it now. Nevertheless, in the plates of this _Metamorphosis

+Naturalis_, each chrysalis has its projections so modified as to

+represent a burlesque human head—the respective species having

+different profiles given them. Whether the author was a believer

+in metempsychosis, and thought he saw in the chrysalis a disguised

+humanity; or whether, swayed by the false analogy which Butler makes

+so much of, between the change from chrysalis to butterfly and that

+from mortality to immortality, he considered the chrysalis as typical

+of man; does not appear. Here, however, is the fact, that influenced

+by some {164} pre-conception or other, he has made his drawings quite

+different from the actual forms. It is not that he simply thinks this

+resemblance exists—it is not that he merely says he can see it; but his

+preconception so possesses him as to swerve his pencil, and make him

+produce representations laughably unlike the realities.

+

+These, which are extreme cases of distorted perceptions, differ only

+in degree from the distorted perceptions of daily life; and so strong

+is the distorting influence that even the man of science cannot escape

+its effects. Every microscopist knows that if they have conflicting

+theories respecting its nature, two observers shall look through

+the same instrument at the same object, and give quite different

+descriptions of its appearance.

+

+From the dangers of hypothesis let us now turn to the dangers of no

+hypothesis. Little recognized as is the fact, it is nevertheless

+true that we cannot make the commonest observation correctly without

+beforehand having some notion of what we are to observe. You are asked

+to listen to a faint sound, and you find that without a pre-conception

+of the _kind_ of sound you are to hear, you cannot hear it. Provided

+that it is not strong, an unusual flavour in your food may pass quite

+unperceived, unless some one draws attention to it, when you taste it

+distinctly. After knowing him for years, you shall suddenly discover

+that your friend’s nose is slightly awry, and wonder that you never

+remarked it before. Still more striking becomes this inability when

+the facts to be observed are complex. Of a hundred people who listen

+to the dying vibrations of a church bell, almost all fail to perceive

+the harmonics, and assert the sound to be simple. Scarcely any one

+who has not practised drawing, sees, when in the street, that all

+the horizontal lines in the walls, windows, shutters, roofs, seem

+to converge to one point in the distance: a fact which, after a few

+lessons in perspective, becomes visible enough.

+

+Perhaps I cannot more clearly illustrate this necessity for {165}

+hypothesis as a condition to accurate perception, than by narrating a

+portion of my own experience relative to the colours of shadows.

+

+Indian ink was the pigment which, during boyhood, I invariably

+used for shading. Ask any one who has received no culture in art,

+or who has given no thought to it, of what colour a shadow is, and

+the unhesitating reply will be—black. This is uniformly the creed

+of the uninitiated; and in this creed I undoubtingly remained till

+about eighteen. Happening, at that age, to come much in contact with

+an amateur artist, I was told, to my great surprise, that shadows

+are not black but of a neutral tint. This, to me, novel doctrine, I

+strenuously resisted. I have a pretty distinct recollection of denying

+it point blank, and quoting all my experience in support of the denial.

+I remember, too, that the controversy lasted over a considerable

+period; and that it was only after my friend had repeatedly drawn my

+attention to instances in Nature, that I finally gave in. Though I must

+previously have seen myriads of shadows, yet in consequence of the fact

+that very generally the tint approaches to black, I had been unable,

+in the absence of hypothesis, to perceive that in many cases it is

+distinctly not black.

+

+I continued to hold this amended doctrine for some years. It is true

+that from time to time I observed that the tone of the neutral tint

+varied considerably in different shadows; but still the divergencies

+were not such as to shake my faith in the dogma. By-and-bye, however,

+in a popular work on Optics, I met with the statement that the colour

+of a shadow is always the complement of the colour of the light casting

+it. Not seeing the wherefore of this alleged law, which seemed moreover

+to conflict with my established belief, I was led to study the matter

+as a question of causation. _Why_ are shadows coloured? and what

+determines the colour? were the queries that suggested themselves. In

+seeking answers, it soon became manifest {166} that as a space in

+shadow is a space from which the _direct_ light alone is excluded, and

+into which the _indirect_ light (namely, that reflected by surrounding

+objects, by the clouds and by the sky) continues to fall, the colour

+of a shadow must partake of the colour of everything that can either

+radiate or reflect light into it. Hence, the colour of a shadow must

+be _the average colour of the diffused light;_ and must vary, as that

+varies, with the colours of all surrounding things. Thus was at once

+explained the inconstancy I had already noticed; and I presently

+recognized in Nature that which the theory implies—namely, that a

+shadow may have any colour whatever, according to circumstances. Under

+a clear sky, and with no trees, hedges, houses, or other objects at

+hand, shadows are of a pure blue. During a red sunset, mixture of the

+yellow light from the upper part of the western sky with the blue light

+from the eastern sky, produces green shadows. Go near to a gas-lamp on

+a moonlight night, and a pencil-case placed at right angles to a piece

+of paper will be found to cast a purple-blue shadow and a yellow-grey

+shadow, produced by the gas and the moon respectively. And there are

+conditions it would take too long here to describe, under which two

+parts of the same shadow are differently coloured. All which facts

+became obvious to me as soon as I knew that they must exist.

+

+Here, then, respecting certain simple phenomena that are hourly

+visible, are three successive convictions; each of them based on years

+of observation; each of them held with unhesitating confidence; and

+yet only one—as I now believe—true. But for the help of an hypothesis,

+I should probably have remained in the common belief that shadows are

+black. And but for the help of another hypothesis, I should probably

+have remained in the half-true belief that they are neutral tint.

+

+Is it not clear, therefore, that to observe correctly is by no means

+easy? On the one hand, a pre-conception, makes {167} us liable to

+see things not quite as they are, but as we think them. On the other

+hand, in the absence of a pre-conception, we are liable to pass over

+much that we ought to see. Yet we must have either a pre-conception

+or no pre-conception. Evidently, then, all our observations, save

+those guided by true theories already reached, are in danger of either

+distortion or incompleteness.

+

+It remains but to remark, that if our observations are imperfect in

+cases like the foregoing, where the things seen are persistent, and

+may be again and again looked at or continuously contemplated; how

+much more imperfect must they be where the things seen are complex

+processes, changes, or actions, each presenting successive phases,

+which, if not truly observed at the moments they severally occur,

+can never be truly observed at all! Here the chances of error become

+immensely multiplied. And when, in addition, there exists some moral

+excitement,—when, as in these Spirit-rapping and Table-turning

+experiments, the intellect is partially paralysed by fear or wonder

+correct observation becomes next to an impossibility.

+

+

+

+

+{168}

+

+WHAT IS ELECTRICITY?

+

+

+[_First published in_ The Reader _for November 19, 1864._]

+

+Probably few, if any, competent physicists have, of late years, used

+the term “electric fluid” in any other than a conventional sense.

+When distinguishing electricity into the two kinds, “positive” and

+“negative,” or “vitreous” and “resinous,” they have used the ideas

+suggested by these names merely as convenient symbols, and not as

+representatives of different entities. And, now that heat and light are

+proved to be modes of motion, it has become obvious that all the allied

+manifestations of force must be modes of motion.

+

+What is the particular mode of motion which constitutes electricity,

+thus becomes the question. That it is some kind of molecular vibration,

+different from the molecular vibrations which luminous bodies give off,

+is, I presume, taken for granted by all who bring to the consideration

+of the matter a knowledge of recent discoveries. Beyond those simple

+oscillations of molecules from which light and heat result, may we not

+suspect that there will, in some cases, arise compound oscillations?

+Let us consider whether the conditions under which electricity arises

+are not such as to generate compound oscillations; and whether the

+phenomena of electricity are not such as must result from compound

+oscillations.

+

+The universal antecedent to the production of electricity {169} is the

+immediate or mediate contact of heterogeneous substances—substances

+that are heterogeneous either in their molecular constitutions, or in

+their molecular states. If, then, electricity is some mode of molecular

+motion, and if, whenever it is produced, the contact of substances

+having unlike molecules or molecules in unlike states, is the

+antecedent, there seems thrust upon us the conclusion that electricity

+results from some mutual action of molecules whose motions are unlike.

+

+What must be that mutual action of molecules having unlike motions,

+which, as we see, is the universal antecedent of electrical

+disturbance? The answer to this question does not seem difficult to

+reach, if we take the simplest case—the case of contact-electricity.

+When two pieces of metal of the same kind, and at the same temperature,

+are applied to one another, there is no electrical excitation; but, if

+the metals applied to one another be of different kinds, there is a

+genesis of electricity. This, which has been regarded as an anomalous

+fact—a fact so anomalous that it has been much disputed because

+apparently at variance with every hypothesis—is a fact to which an

+interpretation is at once supplied by the hypothesis that electricity

+results from the mutual disturbances of unlike molecular motions.

+For if, on the one hand, we have homogeneous metals in contact,

+their respective molecules, oscillating synchronously, will give and

+take any forces which they impress on one another without producing

+oscillations of new orders. But if, on the other hand, the molecules

+of the one mass have periods of oscillation different from those of

+the other mass, their mutual impacts will not agree with the period

+of oscillation of either, but will generate a new rhythm, differing

+from, and much slower than, that of either. The production of what

+are called “beats” in acoustics, will best illustrate this. It is a

+familiar fact that two strings vibrating at different rates, from

+time to time concur in sending off aërial waves in the {170} same

+direction at the same instant: that then, their vibrations getting

+more and more out of correspondence, they send off their aërial waves

+in the same direction at exactly intermediate instants; and presently,

+coming once more into correspondence, they again generate coinciding

+waves. So that when their periods of vibration differ but little,

+and when consequently it takes an appreciable time to complete their

+alternations of agreement and disagreement, there results an audible

+alternation in the sound—a succession of pulses of louder and feebler

+sound. In other words, besides the primary, simple, and rapid series

+of waves, constituting the two sounds themselves, there is a series

+of slow compound waves, resulting from their repeated conflicts and

+concurrences. Now if, instead of the two strings communicating their

+vibrations to the air, each communicated its vibrations to the other,

+we should have just the same alternation of concurrent and conflicting

+pulses. And if each of the two strings was combined with an aggregate

+of others like itself, in such way that it communicated to its

+neighbours both its normal and its abnormal vibrations, it is clear

+that through each aggregate of strings there would be propagated one of

+these compound waves of oscillation, in addition to their simple rapid

+oscillations. This illustration will, I think, make it manifest that

+when a mass of molecules which have a certain period of vibration, is

+placed in contact with a mass of molecules which have another period

+of vibration, there must result an alternation of coincidences and

+antagonisms in the molecular motions, such as will make the molecules

+alternately increase and decrease one another’s motions. There will

+be instants at which they are moving in the same direction, and

+intervening instants at which they are moving in opposite directions;

+whence will arise periods of greatest and least deviations from their

+ordinary motions. And these greatest and least deviations, being

+communicated to neighbouring molecules, and passed on by them {171} to

+the next, will result in waves of perturbation propagated throughout

+each mass.

+

+Let us now ask what will be the mutual relations of these waves. Action

+and reaction being equal and opposite, it must happen that whatever

+effect a molecule of the mass A produces upon an adjacent molecule of

+the mass B, must be accompanied by an equivalent reverse effect upon

+itself. If a molecule of the mass A is at any instant moving in such

+way as to impress on a molecule of the mass B an additional momentum

+in any given direction, then the momentum of the molecule of A, in

+that direction, will be diminished to an equal amount. That is to say,

+to any wave of increased motion propagated through the molecules of

+B, there must be a reactive wave of decreased motion propagated in

+the opposite direction through the molecules of A. See, then, the two

+significant facts. Any _addition_ of motion, which at one of these

+alternate periods is given by the molecules of A to the molecules of

+B, must be propagated through the molecules of B in a direction _away

+from_ A; and simultaneously there must be a _subtraction_ from the

+motion of the molecules of A, which will be propagated through them

+in a direction _away from_ B. To every wave of _excess_ sent through

+the one mass, there will be a corresponding wave of _defect_ sent

+through the other; and these _positive_ and _negative_ waves will be

+exactly coincident in their times, and exactly equal in their amounts.

+Whence it follows that if these waves, proceeding from the surface of

+contact through the two masses in contrary directions, are brought into

+relation, they will neutralize each other. Action and reaction being

+equal and opposite, these _plus_ and _minus_ molecular motions will

+cancel if they are added together; and there will be a restoration of

+equilibrium.

+

+These positive and negative waves of perturbation will travel

+through the two masses of molecules with great facility. It is now

+an established truth that molecules {172} absorb, in the increase

+of their own vibrations, those rhythmical impulses or waves which

+have periodic times the same as their own; but that they cannot thus

+absorb successive impulses that have periodic times different from

+their own. Hence these differential undulations, being very long

+undulations in comparison with those of the molecules themselves, will

+readily pass through the masses of molecules, or be _conducted_ by

+them. Further observe that, if the two masses of molecules continue

+joined, these positive and negative differential waves travelling away

+from the surface of contact in opposite directions, and severally

+arriving at the outer surfaces of the two masses, will be reflected

+from these; and, travelling back again toward the surface of contact,

+will there meet and neutralize one another. Hence no current will be

+produced along a wire joining the outer surfaces of the masses; since

+neutralization will be more readily effected by this return of the

+waves through the masses themselves. But, though no external current

+arises, the masses will continue in what we call opposite electric

+states; as a delicate electrometer shows that they do. And further,

+if they are parted, the positive and negative waves which have the

+instant before been propagated through them respectively, remaining

+unneutralized, the masses will display their opposite electric states

+in a more conspicuous way. The residual positive and negative waves

+will then neutralize each other along any conductor that is placed

+between them, seeing that the _plus_ waves communicated from the one

+mass to the conductor, meeting with the _minus_ waves communicated from

+the other, and being mutually cancelled as they meet, the conductor

+will become a line of least resistance to the waves of each mass.

+

+Let us pass now to the allied phenomena of thermo-electricity. Suppose

+these two masses of metal to be heated at their surfaces of contact:

+the forms of the {173} masses being such that their surfaces of

+contact can be considerably heated without their remoter parts being

+much heated. What will happen? Prof. Tyndall has shown, in the cases

+of various gases and liquids, that, other things equal, when molecules

+have given to them more of the insensible motion which we call heat,

+there is no alteration in their periods of oscillation, but an

+increase in the amplitudes of their oscillations: the molecules make

+wider excursions in the same times. Assuming that it is the same in

+solids, it will follow that, when the two metals are heated at their

+surfaces of contact, the result will be the same as before in respect

+of the natures and intervals of the differential waves. There will be

+a change, however, in the strengths of these waves. For, if the two

+orders of molecules have severally given to them increased quantities

+of motion, the perturbations which they impress on each other will

+also be increased. These stronger positive and negative waves of

+differential motion will, as before, travel through either mass away

+from the surfaces of contact—that is, toward the cold extremities of

+the masses. From these cold extremities they will, as before, rebound

+toward the surfaces of contact; and, as before, will tend thus to

+equilibriate each other. But they will meet with resistance in thus

+travelling back. It is a well-ascertained fact that raising the

+temperatures of metals decreases their conducting powers. Hence, if

+the two cold ends of the masses be connected by some other mass whose

+molecules can take on with facility these differential undulations—that

+is, if the two ends be joined by a conductor, the positive and negative

+waves will meet and neutralize one another along this conductor,

+instead of being reflected back to the surfaces of contact. In other

+words, there will be established a current along the wire joining the

+two cold ends of the metallic masses.

+

+Carried a step further, this reasoning affords us an explanation of the

+thermo-electric pile. If a number of {174} these bars of different

+metals, as antimony and bismuth, are soldered together, end to end,

+in alternate order, AB, AB, AB, etc., then, so long as they remain

+cold, there is no manifestation of an electric current; or, if all the

+joints are equally heated, there is no manifestation of an electric

+current beyond that which would arise from any relative coolness of

+the two ends of the compound bar. But if alternate joints are heated,

+an electric current is produced in a wire joining the two ends of the

+compound bar—a current that is intense in proportion to the number of

+pairs. What is the cause of this? Clearly, so long as all the joints

+are of the same temperature, the differential waves propagated from

+each joint toward the two adjacent joints will be equal and opposite to

+those from the adjacent joints, and no disturbance will be shown. But

+if alternate joints are heated, the positive and negative differential

+waves propagated away from them will be stronger than those propagated

+from the other joints. Hence, if the joint of bar A with bar B be

+heated, the other end of the bar B, which is joined to A2, not being

+heated, will receive a stronger differential wave than it sends back.

+In addition to the wave which its molecules would otherwise induce in

+the molecules of A2, there is an effect which it conducts from A1;

+and this extra impulse propagated to the other end of B2 is added to

+the impulse which its heated molecules would otherwise give to the

+molecules of A3; and so on throughout the series. The waves being added

+together, become more violent, and the current through the wire joining

+the extremities of the series, more intense.

+

+This interpretation of the facts of thermo-electricity will probably

+be met by the objection that there are, in some cases, thermo-electric

+currents developed between masses of metal of the same kind, and even

+between different parts of the same mass. It may be urged that, if

+unlikeness between the rates of vibration of molecules in contact

+{175} is the cause of these electric disturbances; then, heat ought

+not to produce any electric disturbances when the molecules are of the

+same kind; since heat does not change the periodic times of molecular

+vibrations. This objection, which seems at first sight a serious one,

+introduces us to a confirmation. For where the masses of molecules

+are homogeneous in all other respects, difference of temperature

+does _not_ generate any thermo-electric current. The junction of hot

+with cold mercury sets up no electric excitement. In all cases where

+thermo-electricity is generated between metals of the same kind, there

+is evidence of heterogeneity in their molecular structures—either one

+has been hammered and the other not, or one is annealed and the other

+unannealed. And where the current is between different parts of the

+same mass, there are differences in the crystalline states of the

+parts, or differences between the ways in which the parts have cooled

+after being cast. That is to say, there is proof that the molecules in

+the two masses, or in different parts of the same mass, are in unlike

+relations to their neighbours—are in unlike states of tension. Now,

+however true it may be that molecules of the same kind vibrate at the

+same rate, whatever may be their temperature, it is obviously true so

+long only as their motions are not modified by restraining forces. If

+molecules of the same kind are in one mass arranged into that state

+which constitutes crystallization, while in another mass they are not

+thus bound together; or if in the one their molecular relations have

+been modified by hammering, and in the other not; the differences

+in the restraints under which they respectively vibrate will affect

+their rates of vibration. And if their rates of vibration are rendered

+unequal, then the alleged cause of electrical disturbance comes into

+existence.

+

+To sum up, may it not be said that by some such action alone can the

+phenomena of electricity be explained; {176} and that some such

+action must inevitably arise under the conditions? On the one hand

+electricity, being a mode of motion, implies the transformation of some

+preëxisting motion—implies, also, a transformation such that there are

+two new kinds of motion simultaneously generated, equal and opposite in

+their directions—implies, further, that these differ in being _plus_

+and _minus_, and being therefore capable of neutralizing each other.

+On the other hand, in the above cases, molecular motion is the only

+source of motion that can be assigned; and this molecular motion seems

+calculated, under the circumstances, to produce effects like those

+witnessed. Molecules vibrating at different rates cannot be brought in

+juxtaposition without affecting one another’s motions. They must affect

+one another’s motions by periodically adding to, or deducting from one

+another’s motions; and any excess of motion which those of the one

+order receive, must be accompanied by an equivalent defect of motion in

+those of the other order. When such molecules are units of aggregates

+placed in contact, they must pass on these perturbations to their

+neighbours. And so, from the surface of contact, there must be waves of

+excessive and defective molecular motion, equal in their amounts, and

+opposite in their directions—waves which must exactly compensate one

+another when brought into relation.

+

+I have here dealt only with electrical phenomena of the simplest

+kind. Hereafter I may possibly endeavour to show how this hypothesis

+furnishes interpretations of other forms of Electricity.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+POSTSCRIPT (1873).—During the nine years which have elapsed since the

+foregoing essay was published, I have found myself no nearer to such

+allied interpretations of other forms of Electricity. Though, from time

+to time, I have recurred to the subject, in the hope of fulfilling the

+{177} expectation raised by the closing sentence, yet no clue has

+encouraged me to pursue the speculation. Only now, when republication

+of the essay in a permanent form once more brings the question before

+me, does there occur a thought which appears worth setting down.

+

+The union of two different ideas, not before placed side by side, has

+generated this thought. In the first number of the _Principles of

+Biology_, issued in January 1863, and dealing, among other “Data of

+Biology,” with organic matter and the effects of forces upon it, I

+ventured to speculate about the molecular actions concerned in organic

+changes, and, among others, those by which light enables plants to take

+the carbon from carbonic acid (§ 13). Pointing out that the ability

+of heat to decompose compound molecules, is generally proportionate

+to the difference between the atomic weights of their component

+elements, and assuming that components having widely-unlike atomic

+weights, have widely-unlike motions, and are therefore affected by

+widely-unlike undulations; the inference drawn was, that in proportion

+as the rhythms of its components differ, a compound molecule will

+be unstable in presence of strong etherial undulations acting upon

+one component more than on the other or others: their movements thus

+being rendered so incongruous that they can no longer hold together.

+It was argued, further, that a tolerably-stable compound molecule

+may, if exposed to strong etherial undulations especially disturbing

+one of its components, be decomposed when in presence of some unlike

+molecule having components whose times of oscillation differ less from

+those of this disturbed component. And a parallel was drawn between

+the de-oxidation of metals by carbon when exposed to the longer

+undulations in a furnace, and the de-carbonization of carbonic acid by

+hydrogen, &c., when exposed to the shorter undulations in a plant’s

+leaves. These ideas I recall chiefly for the purpose of presenting

+clearly the conception of a compound molecule as containing {178}

+diversely-moving components—components having independent and unlike

+oscillations, in addition to the oscillation of the whole molecule

+formed by them. The legitimacy of this conception may, I suppose, be

+assumed. The beautiful experiments by which Prof. Tyndall has proved

+that light decomposes the vapours of certain compounds, illustrates

+this ability which the elements of a compound molecule have, severally

+to take up etherial undulations corresponding to their own; and thus

+to have their individual movements so increased as to cause disruption

+of the compound molecule. This, at least, is the interpretation

+which Prof. Tyndall puts on the facts; and I presume that he puts a

+kindred interpretation upon the facts he has disclosed respecting the

+marvellous power possessed by complex-moleculed vapours to absorb

+heat—the interpretation, namely, that the thermal undulations are,

+in such vapours, taken up in augmenting the movements within each

+molecule, rather than in augmenting the movements of the molecules as

+wholes.

+

+But now, assuming this to be a true conception of compound molecules

+and the effects produced on them by etherial undulations, there

+presents itself the question—What will be the effects produced by

+compound molecules on one another? How will the elements of one

+compound molecule have their rhythmical motions affected by proximity

+to the elements of an unlike compound molecule? May we not suspect

+that effects will be produced on one another, not only by the unlike

+molecules as wholes, but also certain other, and partially-independent,

+effects by their components on one another; and that there will so

+be generated some specialized form of molecular motion? Throughout

+the speculation set forth in the foregoing essay, the supposition is

+that the molecules are those of juxtaposed metals—molecules which,

+whether absolutely simple or not, are relatively simple; and these

+are regarded as producing on one another’s movements perturbations

+of a relatively-simple kind, which admit of being transferred from

+molecule {179} to molecule throughout each mass. In trying to carry

+further this interpretation, it had not occurred to me until now,

+to consider the perturbations produced on one another by compound

+molecules: taking into consideration, not merely the capacity each

+has for affecting the other as a whole, but the capacity which the

+constituents of each individually have for affecting the individual

+constituents of the other. If an individual constituent of a compound

+molecule can, by the successive impacts of etherial undulations, have

+the amplitudes of its oscillations so increased as to detach it; we can

+scarcely doubt that an individual constituent of a compound molecule

+may affect an individual constituent of an unlike compound molecule

+near it: their respective oscillations perturbing one another apart

+from the perturbation produced on one another by the compound molecules

+as wholes. And it seems inferable that the secondary perturbation thus

+arising, will, like the primary perturbation, be such that the action

+and reaction, equal and opposite in their amounts, will produce equal

+and opposite deviations in the molecular movements. From this there

+appear to be several corollaries.

+

+If a compound molecule, having a slow rhythm as a whole in addition

+to the more rapid rhythms of its members, has the power of taking

+up much of that motion we call heat in the increase of its internal

+movements, and to a corresponding degree takes up less in the increase

+of its movements as a whole; then may we not infer that the like will

+hold when other kinds of forces are brought to bear on it? May we

+not anticipate that when a mass of compound molecules of one kind is

+made to act upon a mass of compound molecules of another kind (say by

+friction), the molecular effects mutually produced, partly in agitating

+the molecules as wholes, and partly in agitating their components

+relatively to one another, will become less of the first and more of

+the last, in proportion as the molecules progress in compositeness?

+

+A further implication suggests itself. While much of the {180} force

+mutually exercised will thus go to increase the motion within each

+of the compound molecules that immediately act on one another, it

+appears inferable that relatively little of this intestinal motion

+will be communicated to other molecules. The excesses of oscillation

+given to individual members of a large cluster, will not be readily

+passed on to homologous members of adjacent large clusters; since they

+must be relatively far apart. Whatever motion is transferred, must be

+transferred by waves of the intervening etherial medium; and the power

+of these must decrease rapidly as the distance increases. Obviously

+such difficulty of transfer must, for this reason, become great when

+the molecules become highly compounded.

+

+At the same time will it not follow that such augmentations of

+movement caused in individual members of a cluster, not being readily

+transmissible to homologous members of adjacent clusters, will

+accumulate? The more composite molecules become, the more possible

+will it be for individual components of them to be violently affected

+by individual components of different composite molecules near

+them—the more possible will it be for their mutual perturbations to

+progressively increase?

+

+And now let us consider how these inferences bear on the interpretation

+of Statical Electricity—the form of Electricity most unlike the form

+above dealt with.

+

+The substances which exhibit most conspicuously the phenomena of

+statical electricity are distinguished either by the chemical

+complexity of their molecules, or else by the compositeness of their

+molecules produced allotropically or isomerically, or else by both.

+The simple substances electrically excited by friction, as carbon and

+sulphur, are those having several allotropic states—those capable of

+forming multiple molecules. The conchoidal fracture of the diamond and

+of roll-sulphur, suggest some colloidal form of aggregation, regarded

+by Prof. Graham as a form in which the molecules are united into {181}

+relatively-large groups.[23] In such compound inorganic substances as

+glass, we have, besides the chemical complexity, this same conchoidal

+fracture which, along with other evidence, shows glass to be a colloid;

+and the colloidal form of molecule is to be similarly inferred as

+characterizing resin, amber, &c. That dry animal substances, such as

+silk and hair, are formed of extremely-large molecules, we have clear

+proof; since these, chemically complex in a high degree, also have

+their components united in high multiples. It needs but to name the

+fact that non-electric and conducting substances, such as the metals,

+acids, water, &c., have relatively-simple molecules, to make it clear

+that the capacity for developing statical electricity depends in some

+way upon the presence of molecules of highly composite kinds. And

+there is even still more conclusive proof than that yielded by the

+contrast between these groups—the proof furnished by the fact that

+the same substance may be a conductor or a non-conductor, according

+to its form of molecular aggregation. Thus selenium when crystalline

+is a conductor, but when in that allotropic state called amorphous,

+or non-crystalline, it is a good non-conductor. That is, accepting

+Prof. Graham’s interpretation of these states, when its molecules are

+arranged simply, it is a conductor, but when they are compounded into

+large groups it is a non-conductor, and, by implication, an electric.

+

+So far, then, the _à priori_ inference that a peculiar form of

+molecular perturbation will result when two unlike substances, one of

+which or each of which consists of {182} highly-compounded molecules,

+are made to act on one another, is justified _a posteriori_. And now,

+instead of asking generally what will happen, let us ask what may

+be inferred to happen in a special case. A piece of glass is rubbed

+by silk. The large colloidal molecules forming the surface of each,

+are made to disturb one another. This is an inference about which

+there will, I suppose, be no dispute; since it is that assumed in

+the now-established doctrine of the correlation of heat and motion.

+Besides the effect which, as wholes the molecules mutually produce,

+there is the effect produced on one another by certain of their

+components. Such of these as have times of oscillation which differ,

+but not very widely, generate mutual perturbations that are equal and

+opposite. Could these perturbations be readily propagated away from

+the surface of contact through either mass, the effect would quickly

+dissipate, as in the case of metals; but, for the reason given above,

+these perturbations cannot be transferred with ease to the homologous

+members of the compound molecules behind. Hence the mechanical force

+of the friction, transformed into the molecular movements of these

+superficial constituent molecules, exists in them as _intense_ mutual

+perturbations, which, unable to diffuse, are limited to the surfaces,

+and, indeed, to those parts of the surfaces that have acted on one

+another. In other words, the two surfaces become charged with two equal

+and opposite molecular perturbations—perturbations which, cancelling

+one another if the surfaces are kept in contact, cannot do this if

+the surfaces are parted; but can then cancel one another only if a

+conductor is interposed.

+

+Let me briefly point out some apparent agreements between the

+corollaries from this hypothesis, and the observed phenomena.

+

+We have, first, an interpretation of the fact, otherwise seeming so

+anomalous, that this form of electrical excitement is _superficial_.

+That there should be a mode of {183} activity limited to the surface

+of a substance, is difficult to understand in the absence of some

+conception of the kind suggested.

+

+We have an explanation of the truth, insisted on by Faraday, that

+there can be no charge of one kind of electricity obtained, without

+a corresponding charge of the opposite kind. For it is a necessary

+implication of the hypothesis above set forth, that no molecular

+perturbation of the nature described, can be produced, without there

+being simultaneously produced a counter-perturbation exactly equal to

+it.

+

+May we not also say that some insight is afforded into the phenomena

+of induction? In the cases thus far considered, the two surfaces

+electrified by the mutual perturbations of their molecules, are

+supposed to be in contact. Since, however, apparent contact is not

+actual contact, we must, even in this case, assume that the mutual

+perturbation is effected through an intervening stratum of ether. To

+interpret induction, then, we have first to conceive this stratum

+of ether to be greatly increased in thickness; and then to ask what

+will happen if the molecules of one surface, in this state of extreme

+internal perturbation, act on the molecules of a surface near it.

+Whether the stratum of ether is so thin as to be inappreciable to our

+senses, or whether it is wide enough to be conspicuous, it must still

+happen that if through it the mutual perturbations are conveyed in the

+one case, they will be conveyed in the other; and hence a surface which

+is already the seat of these molecular perturbations of one order, will

+induce perturbations of a counter order in the molecules of an adjacent

+surface.

+

+In additional justification of the hypothesis, I will only point out

+that voltaic electricity seems to admit of a kindred interpretation.

+For any molecular re-arrangement, such as occurs in a chemical

+decomposition and recombination, implies that the movements of

+the {184} molecules concerned are mutually perturbed; and their

+perturbations must conform to the general law already described: the

+molecules must derange one another’s motions in equal and opposite

+ways, and so must generate _plus_ and _minus_ derangements that cancel

+when brought into relation.

+

+Of course I suggest this view simply as one occurring to an outsider.

+Unquestionably it presents difficulties; as, for instance, that no

+manifest explanation is yielded by it of electric attractions and

+repulsions. And there are doubtless objections not obvious to me that

+will at once strike those to whom the facts are more familiar. The

+hypothesis must be regarded as speculative; and as set down on the

+chance that it may be worth consideration.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Since the foregoing postscript was put in type, I have received

+criticisms upon it, oral and written, from several leading electricians

+and physicists; and I have profited by them to amend parts of the

+exposition. While I have remained without endorsements of the

+hypothesis, the objections raised have not been such as to make clear

+its untenability.

+

+On one point an addition seems needful to exclude a misconstruction

+apt to arise. The description of the mutually-produced molecular

+perturbations, opposite in their kinds, as resulting in waves that are

+propagated away from the place of disturbance, and that cancel when

+brought into relation, is met by the criticism that waves, proceeding

+in opposite directions and meeting, do not mutually cancel, but,

+passing one another, proceed onwards. There are, however, two respects

+in which the parallelism does not hold, between the waves referred

+to and the waves I have described, which perhaps cannot rightly be

+called waves. The waves referred to, as those on the surface of a

+liquid, {185} are such that each consists of two opposite deviations

+from a mean state. Each shows excess and defect. A series of them is

+a series of _plus_ and _minus_ divergences; and if two such series

+meet one another, they do not cancel. But there is no analogy between

+this case and a case in which the whole effect propagated in one

+direction is a _plus_ motion, and the whole effect propagated in the

+opposite direction is a _minus_ motion—that is, _plus_ and _minus_

+changes in other motions. These, if equal in amount, will cancel when

+they meet. If one is a continual addition to motion in a certain

+direction, and the other a corresponding subtraction from motion in

+that direction, the two, when added together, must produce zero. From

+another point of view the absence of parallelism between the two

+cases may be equally well seen. Waves of the kinds instanced as not

+cancelling one another, are waves produced by some force foreign to

+the medium exhibiting them—an extrinsic force. Hence, proceeding from

+the place of initiation, they are necessarily, considered in their

+totalities, _positive_ in whatever directions they travel; and hence,

+too, when conducted round so as to meet, an exaggerated perturbation

+will result. But in the simplest of the cases here dealt with (that

+of contact-electricity) the perturbation is not of extrinsic origin,

+but of intrinsic origin. There is no external activity at the expense

+of which the quantity of motion in the disturbed matter is positively

+increased. The activity, being such only as is internally possessed,

+can generate no more motion than already exists; and therefore whatever

+gain of motion arises anywhere in the molecules must be at the cost of

+an equal loss elsewhere. Here perturbation cannot be a _plus_ motion

+in all directions from the place of initiation; but any _plus_ motion

+continually generated can result only from an equal and opposite

+_minus_ motion continually generated; and the mutual cancelling becomes

+a corollary from the mutual genesis.

+

+In the course of the discussions which I have had, the {186} following

+way of presenting the argument has occurred to me.

+

+1. Two homogeneous bodies are rubbed together and there results heat:

+the interpretation being that the molar motion is transformed into

+molecular motion. Here motion produces motion—the _form_ only being

+changed.

+

+2. Now of the two bodies one is replaced by a body unlike in nature to

+the other, and they are again rubbed. Again a certain amount of heat

+is produced: some of the molar motion is, as before, transformed into

+molecular motion. But, at the same time, another part of the molar

+motion is changed into—what? Surely not a fluid, a substance, a thing.

+It cannot be that what in the first case produces a change of _state_,

+in the second case produces an _entity_. And in the second case itself,

+it cannot be that while part of the original motion becomes changed

+into another species of motion, part of it becomes changed into a

+species of matter.

+

+3. Must we not say, then, that if, when the two bodies rubbed are

+homogeneous, sensible motion is transformed into insensible motion,

+when they are heterogeneous, sensible motion must still be transformed

+into insensible motion: such difference of nature as this insensible

+motion has, being consequent on the difference of nature between the

+two kinds of molecules acting on one another?

+

+4. If, when the two masses are homogeneous, those molecules which

+compose the two rubbed surfaces disturb one another, and increase one

+another’s oscillations; then, when the two masses are heterogeneous,

+those molecules forming the two rubbed surfaces must also disturb one

+another in some way—increase one another’s agitations.

+

+5. If, when the two sets of molecules are alike in kind, the mutual

+disturbance is such that they simply increase the amplitudes of one

+another’s oscillations, and do this because their times correspond;

+then, must it not be {187} that when they are unlike in kind, the

+mutual disturbance will involve a differential action consequent on the

+unlikeness of their motions? Must not the discord of the oscillations

+produce a result which cannot be produced when the oscillations are

+concordant—a compound form of molecular motion?

+

+6. If masses of relatively-simple molecules, placed in apposition

+and made to act on one another, cause such effects; then must we not

+say that effects of the same class, but of a different order, will

+be caused by the mutual actions, not of the molecules as wholes,

+but of their constituents? If the rubbed surfaces severally consist

+of highly-compounded molecules—each containing, it may be, several

+hundreds of minor molecules, united into a definitely-arranged cluster;

+then, while the molecules as wholes affect one another’s motions,

+must we not infer that the constituents of the one class will affect

+the constituents of the other class in their motions? While the

+molecules as wholes increase one another’s oscillations, or derange one

+another’s oscillations, or both, the components of them cannot be so

+stably arranged that members of the one group are wholly inoperative

+on members of the other group. And if they are operative, then there

+must be a compound form of molecular motion which arises when masses

+of highly-compounded molecules of unlike kinds, are made to act on one

+another.

+

+With this series of propositions and questions, I leave the suggestion

+to its fate; merely remarking that, setting out with the principles

+of molecular physics now accepted, it seems difficult to avoid the

+implication that some actions of the kinds described take place, and

+that there result from them some classes of phenomena—phenomena which,

+if not those we call electrical, remain to be identified.

+

+

+ENDNOTE TO _WHAT IS ELECTRICITY?_.

+

+[23] Though conchoidal fracture may not be conclusive proof of

+colloidality, yet colloidal substances hard enough for fracture always

+display it. Respecting roll-sulphur I may say that though in a few

+days after it is made, it changes from its original state to a state

+in which it consists of minute crystals of another kind irregularly

+massed, yet there is reason for suspecting that these have a matrix

+of amorphous sulphur. I learn from Dr. Frankland that, when sublimed,

+sulphur aggregates partly into minute crystals and partly into an

+amorphous powder distinguished by insolubility.

+

+

+

+

+{188}

+

+MILL _versus_ HAMILTON—THE TEST OF TRUTH.

+

+

+[_First published in_ The Fortnightly Review _for July 1865._]

+

+British speculation, to which, the chief initial ideas and established

+truths of Modern Philosophy are due, is no longer dormant. By his

+_System of Logic_, Mr. Mill probably did more than any other writer to

+re-awaken it. And to the great service he thus rendered some twenty

+years ago, he now adds by his _Examination of Sir William Hamilton’s

+Philosophy_—a work which, taking the views of Sir William Hamilton

+as texts, reconsiders sundry ultimate questions that still remain

+unsettled.

+

+Among these questions is one of much importance which has already

+been the subject of controversy between Mr. Mill and others; and this

+question I propose to discuss afresh. Before doing so, however, it will

+be desirable to glance at two cardinal doctrines of the Hamiltonian

+philosophy from which Mr. Mill shows reasons for dissenting—desirable,

+because comment on them will elucidate what is to follow.

+

+In his fifth chapter, Mr. Mill points out that “what is rejected as

+knowledge by Sir William Hamilton,” is “brought back by him under the

+name of belief.” The quotations justify this description of Sir W.

+Hamilton’s position, and warrant the assertion that the relativity

+of {189} knowledge was held by him but nominally. His inconsistency

+may, I think, be traced to the use of the word “belief” in two quite

+different senses. We commonly say we “believe” a thing for which

+we can assign preponderating evidence, or concerning which we have

+received some indefinable impression. We _believe_ that the next

+House of Commons will not abolish Church-rates; or we _believe_ that

+a person on whose face we look is good-natured. That is, when we can

+give confessedly-inadequate proofs or no proofs at all for the things

+we think, we call them “beliefs.” And it is the peculiarity of these

+beliefs, as contrasted with cognitions, that their connexions with

+antecedent states of consciousness may be easily severed, instead of

+being difficult to sever. But, unhappily, the word “belief” is also

+applied to each of those temporarily or permanently indissoluble

+connexions in consciousness, for the acceptance of which the only

+warrant is that it cannot be got rid of. Saying that I feel a pain,

+or hear a sound, or see one line to be longer than another, is saying

+that there has occurred in me a certain change of state; and it is

+impossible for me to give a stronger evidence of this fact than that

+it is present to my mind. Every argument, too, is resolvable into

+successive affections of consciousness which have no warrants beyond

+themselves. When asked why I assert some mediately known truth, as

+that the three angles of a triangle are equal to two right angles, I

+find that the proof may be decomposed into steps, each of which is an

+immediate consciousness that certain two quantities or two relations

+are equal or unequal—a consciousness for which no further evidence is

+assignable than that it exists in me. Nor, on finally getting down to

+some axiom underlying the whole fabric of demonstration, can I say

+more than that it is a truth of which I am immediately conscious.

+But now observe the confusion that has arisen. The immense majority

+of truths which we accept as beyond doubt, and from which our notion

+of unquestionable truth is abstracted, {190} have this other trait

+in common—they are severally established by affiliation on deeper

+truths. These two characters have become so associated, that one

+seems to imply the other. For each truth of geometry we are able

+to assign some wider truth in which it is involved; for that wider

+truth we are able, if required, to assign some still wider; and so

+on. This being the general nature of the demonstration by which exact

+knowledge is established, there has arisen the illusion that knowledge

+so established is knowledge of higher validity than that immediate

+knowledge which has nothing deeper to rest on. The habit of asking for

+proof, and having proof given, in all these multitudinous cases, has

+produced the implication that proof may be asked for those ultimate

+dicta of consciousness into which all proof is resolvable. And then,

+because no proof of these can be given, there arises the vague feeling

+that they are akin to other things of which no proof can be given—that

+they are uncertain—that they have unsatisfactory bases. This feeling

+is strengthened by the accompanying misuse of words. “Belief” having,

+as above pointed out, become the name of an impression for which we

+can give only a confessedly-inadequate reason, or no reason at all; it

+happens that when pushed hard respecting the warrant for any ultimate

+dictum of consciousness, we say, in the absence of all assignable

+reason, that we _believe_ it. Thus the two opposite poles of knowledge

+go under the same name; and by the reverse connotations of this name,

+as used for the most coherent and least coherent relations of thought,

+profound misconceptions have been generated. Here, it seems to me, is

+the source of Sir William Hamilton’s error. Classing as “beliefs” those

+direct, undecomposable dicta of consciousness which transcend proof,

+he asserts that these are of higher authority than knowledge (meaning

+by knowledge that for which reasons can be given); and in asserting

+this he is fully justified. But when he claims equal authority for

+those affections of consciousness which {191} go under the same name

+of “beliefs,” but differ in being extremely-indirect affections of

+consciousness, or not definite affections of consciousness at all, the

+claim cannot be admitted. By his own showing, no positive cognition

+answering to the word “infinite” exists; while, contrariwise, those

+cognitions which he rightly holds to be above question, are not only

+positive, but have the peculiarity that they cannot be suppressed. How,

+then, can the two be grouped together as of like degrees of validity?

+

+Nearly allied in nature to this, is another Hamiltonian doctrine, which

+Mr. Mill effectively combats. I refer to the corollary respecting

+noumenal existence which Sir William Hamilton draws from the law of

+the Excluded Middle, or, as it might be more intelligibly called, the

+law of the Alternative Necessity. A thing must either exist or not

+exist—must have a certain attribute or not have it: there is no third

+possibility. This is a postulate of all thought; and in so far as it is

+alleged of phenomenal existence, no one calls it in question. But Sir

+William Hamilton, applying the formula beyond the limits of thought,

+draws from it certain conclusions respecting things as they are, apart

+from our consciousness. He says, for example, that though we cannot

+conceive Space as infinite or as finite, yet, “on the principle of the

+Excluded Middle, one or other must be admitted.” This inference Mr.

+Mill shows good reason for rejecting. His argument may be supplemented

+by another, which at once suggests itself if from the words of Sir

+William Hamilton’s propositions we pass to the thoughts for which

+they are supposed to stand. When remembering a certain thing as in

+a certain place, the place and the thing are mentally represented

+together; while to think of the non-existence of the thing in that

+place, implies a consciousness in which the place is represented but

+not the thing. Similarly, if, instead of thinking of an object as

+colourless, we think of it as having colour, the change consists in the

+addition to the {192} concept of an element that was before absent

+from it—the object cannot be thought of first as red and then as not

+red, without one component of the thought being expelled from the

+mind by another. The doctrine of the Excluded Middle, then, is simply

+a generalization of the universal experience that some mental states

+are directly destructive of other states. It formulates a certain

+absolutely-constant law, that no positive mode of consciousness can

+occur without excluding a correlative negative mode; and that the

+negative mode cannot occur without excluding the correlative positive

+mode: the antithesis of positive and negative, being, indeed, merely an

+expression of this experience. Hence it follows that if consciousness

+is not in one of the two modes, it must be in the other. But now,

+under what conditions only can this law of consciousness hold? It can

+hold only so long as there are positive states of consciousness which

+can exclude the negative states, and which the negative states can in

+their turn exclude. If we are not concerned with positive states of

+consciousness at all, no such mutual exclusion takes place, and the

+law of the Alternative Necessity does not apply. Here, then, is the

+flaw in Sir William Hamilton’s proposition. That Space must be infinite

+or finite, are alternatives of which we are not obliged to regard one

+as necessary; seeing that we have no state of consciousness answering

+to either of these words as applied to the totality of Space, and

+therefore no exclusion of two antagonist states of consciousness by one

+another. Both alternatives being unthinkable, the proposition should be

+put thus: Space is either        or is        ; neither of which can

+be conceived, but one of which must be true. In this, as in some other

+cases, Sir William Hamilton continues to work out the forms of thought

+when they no longer contain any substance; and, of course, reaches

+nothing more than verbal conclusions.

+

+Ending here these comments on doctrines of Sir William {193} Hamilton,

+which Mr. Mill rejects on grounds that will be generally recognized

+as valid, let me now pass to a doctrine, partly held by Sir William

+Hamilton, and held by others in ways variously qualified and variously

+extended—a doctrine which, I think, may be successfully defended

+against Mr. Mill’s attack.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+In the fourth and fifth editions of his _Logic_, Mr. Mill treats, at

+considerable length, the question—Is inconceivability an evidence

+of untruth?—replying to criticisms previously made on his reasons

+for asserting that it is not. The chief answers which he there

+makes to these criticisms, turn upon the interpretation of the word

+_inconceivable_. This word he considers is used as the equivalent of

+the word _unbelievable_; and, translating it thus, readily disposes of

+sundry arguments brought against him. Whether any others who have used

+these words in philosophical discussion, have made them synonymous, I

+do not know; but that they are so used in those reasonings of my own

+which Mr. Mill combats, I was not conscious, and was surprised to find

+alleged. It is now manifest that I had not adequately guarded myself

+against the misconstruction which is liable to arise from the double

+meaning of the word _belief_—a word which, we have seen, is used for

+the most coherent and the least coherent connexions in consciousness,

+because they have the common character that no reason is assignable for

+them. Throughout the argument to which Mr. Mill replies, the word is

+used by me only in the first of these senses. The “invariably existent

+beliefs,” the “indestructible beliefs,” are the indissoluble connexions

+in consciousness—never the dissoluble ones. But _unbelievable_ implies

+the dissoluble ones. By association with the other and more general

+meaning of the word _belief_, the word _unbelievable_ suggests cases

+in which the proposition admits of being represented in thought,

+though it may be with difficulty; and in which, consequently, the

+counter-proposition admits of being {194} decomposed. To be quite

+sure of our ground, let us define and illustrate the meanings of

+_inconceivable_ and _unbelievable._ An inconceivable proposition

+is one of which the terms cannot, by any effort, be brought before

+consciousness in that relation which the proposition asserts between

+them—a proposition of which the subject and the predicate offer

+an insurmountable resistance to union in thought. An unbelievable

+proposition is one which admits of being framed in thought, but is

+so much at variance with experience that its terms cannot be put in

+the alleged relation without effort. Thus, it is unbelievable that

+a cannon-ball fired from England should reach America; but it is

+not inconceivable. Conversely, it is inconceivable that one side of

+a triangle is equal to the sum of the other two sides—not simply

+unbelievable. The two sides cannot be represented in consciousness

+as becoming equal in their joint length to the third side, without

+the representation of a triangle being destroyed; and the concept of

+a triangle cannot be framed without a simultaneous destruction of

+a concept in which these magnitudes are represented as equal. That

+is to say, the subject and predicate cannot be united in the same

+intuition—the proposition is unthinkable. It is in this sense only that

+I have used the word inconceivable; and only when rigorously restricted

+to this sense do I regard the test of inconceivableness as having any

+value.

+

+I had concluded that when this explanation was made, Mr. Mill’s reasons

+for dissent would be removed. Passages in his recently-published

+volume, however, show that, even restricting the use of the word

+inconceivable to the meaning here specified, he still denies that

+a proposition is proved to be true by the inconceivableness of its

+negation. To meet, within any moderate compass, all the issues which

+have grown out of the controversy, is difficult. Before passing to the

+essential question, however, I will endeavour to clear the ground of

+certain minor questions.

+

+Describing Sir William Hamilton’s doctrine respecting {195} the

+ultimate facts of consciousness, or those which are above proof, Mr.

+Mill writes:

+

+“The only condition he requires is that we be not able to ‘reduce it

+[a fact of this class] to a generalization from experience.’ This

+condition is realized by its possessing the ‘character of necessity.’

+‘It must be impossible not to think it. In fact, by its necessity

+alone can we recognize it as an original datum of intelligence, and

+distinguish it from any mere result of generalization and custom.’ In

+this Sir William Hamilton is at one with the whole of his own section

+of the philosophical world; with Reid, with Stewart, with Cousin, with

+Whewell, we may add, with Kant, and even with Mr. Herbert Spencer. The

+test by which they all decide a belief to be a part of our primitive

+consciousness—an original intuition of the mind—is the necessity of

+thinking it. Their proof that we must always, from the beginning, have

+had the belief, is the impossibility of getting rid of it now. This

+argument, applied to any of the disputed questions of philosophy,

+is doubly illegitimate: neither the major nor the minor premise is

+admissible. For in the first place, the very fact that the question

+is disputed, disproves the alleged impossibility. Those against whom

+it is needful to defend the belief which is affirmed to be necessary,

+are unmistakable examples that it is not necessary . . . . These

+philosophers, therefore, and among them Sir William Hamilton, mistake

+altogether the true conditions of psychological investigation, when,

+instead of proving a belief to be an original fact of consciousness by

+showing that it could not have been acquired, they conclude that it

+was not acquired, for the reason, often false, and never sufficiently

+substantiated, that our consciousness cannot get rid of it now.”

+

+This representation, in so far as it concerns my own views, has

+somewhat puzzled me. Considering that I have avowed a general agreement

+with Mr. Mill in the doctrine that all knowledge is from experience,

+and have defended {196} the test of inconceivableness on the very

+ground that it expresses “the net result of our experiences up to

+the present time” (_Principles of Psychology_, § 430)—considering

+that, so far from asserting the distinction quoted from Sir William

+Hamilton, I have aimed to abolish such distinction—considering that I

+have endeavoured to show how all our conceptions, even down to those

+of Space and Time, are “acquired”—considering that I have sought

+to interpret forms of thought (and by implication all intuitions)

+as products of organized and inherited experiences (_Principles of

+Psychology_, § 208); I am taken aback at finding myself classed as

+in the above paragraph. Leaving the personal question, however, let

+me pass to the assertion that the difference of opinion respecting

+the test of necessity itself disproves the validity of the test. Two

+issues are here involved. First, if a particular proposition is by

+some accepted as a necessary belief, but by one or more denied to be

+a necessary belief, is the validity of the test of necessity thereby

+disproved in respect of that particular proposition? Second, if the

+validity of the test is disproved in respect of that particular

+proposition, does it therefore follow that the test cannot be depended

+on in other cases?—does it follow that there are no beliefs universally

+accepted as necessary, and in respect of which the test of necessity is

+valid? Each of these questions may, I think, be rightly answered in the

+negative.

+

+In alleging that if a belief is said by some to be necessary, but by

+others to be not necessary, the test of necessity is thereby shown

+to be no test, Mr. Mill tacitly assumes that all men have powers of

+introspection enabling them in all cases to say what consciousness

+testifies; whereas a great proportion of men are incapable of correctly

+interpreting consciousness in any but its simplest modes, and even

+the remainder are liable to mistake for dicta of consciousness what

+prove on closer examination not to be its dicta. Take the case of an

+arithmetical blunder. {197} A boy adds up a column of figures, and

+brings out a wrong total. Again he does it and again errs. His master

+asks him to go through the process aloud, and then hears him say “35

+and 9 are 46”—an error which he had repeated on each occasion. Now

+without discussing the mental act through which we know that 35 and 9

+are 44, and through which we recognize the necessity of this relation,

+it is clear that the boy’s misinterpretation of consciousness, leading

+him tacitly to deny this necessity by asserting that “35 and 9 are

+46,” cannot be held to prove that the relation is not necessary. This,

+and kindred misjudgments daily made by accountants, merely show that

+there is a liability to overlook what are necessary connexions in our

+thoughts, and to assume as necessary others which are not. In these and

+hosts of cases, men do not distinctly translate into their equivalent

+states of consciousness the words they use. This negligence is with

+many so habitual, that they are unaware that they have not clearly

+represented to themselves the propositions they assert; and are then

+apt, quite sincerely though erroneously, to assert that they can think

+things which it is really impossible to think.

+

+But supposing it to be true that whenever a particular belief is

+alleged to be necessary, the existence of some who profess themselves

+able to believe otherwise, proves that this belief is not necessary;

+must it be therefore admitted that the test of necessity is invalid?

+I think not. Men may mistake for necessary, certain beliefs which are

+not necessary; and yet it may remain true that there _are_ necessary

+beliefs, and that the necessity of such beliefs is our warrant for

+them. Were conclusions thus tested proved to be wrong in a hundred

+cases, it would not follow that the test is an invalid one; any more

+than it would follow from a hundred errors in the use of a logical

+formula, that the logical formula is invalid. If from the premise that

+all horned animals ruminate, it were inferred that the rhinoceros,

+being a horned animal, ruminates; the error would {198} furnish no

+argument against the worth of syllogisms in general—whatever their

+worth may be. Daily there are thousands of erroneous deductions which,

+by those who draw them, are supposed to be warranted by the data

+from which they draw them; but no multiplication of such erroneous

+deductions is regarded as proving that there are no deductions truly

+drawn, and that the drawing of deductions is illegitimate. In these

+cases, as in the case to which they are here paralleled, the only thing

+shown is the need for verification of data and criticism of the acts of

+consciousness.

+

+“This argument,” says Mr. Mill, referring to the argument of necessity,

+“applied to any of the disputed questions of philosophy, is doubly

+illegitimate; . . . the very fact that the question is disputed,

+disproves the alleged impossibility.” Besides the foregoing replies

+to this, there is another. Granting that there have been appeals

+illegitimately made to this test—granting that there are many questions

+too complex to be settled by it, which men have nevertheless proposed

+to settle by it, and have consequently got into controversy; it may

+yet be truly asserted that in respect of all, or almost all, questions

+legitimately brought to judgment by this test, there is _no_ dispute

+about the answer. From the earliest times on record down to our own,

+men have not changed their beliefs concerning the truths of number. The

+axiom that if equals be added to unequals the sums are unequal, was

+held by the Greeks no less than by ourselves, as a direct verdict of

+consciousness, from which there is no escape and no appeal. Each of the

+propositions of Euclid appears to us absolutely beyond doubt as it did

+to them. Each step in each demonstration we accept, as they accepted

+it, because we immediately see that the alleged relation is as alleged,

+and that it is impossible to conceive it otherwise.

+

+[Illustration]

+

+But how are legitimate appeals to the test to be distinguished? The

+answer is not difficult to find. Mr. Mill {199} cites the belief

+in the antipodes as having been rejected by the Greeks because

+inconceivable, but as being held by ourselves to be both conceivable

+and true. He has before given this instance, and I have before objected

+to it (_Principles of Psychology_, § 428), for the reason that the

+states of consciousness involved in the judgment are too complex to

+admit of any trustworthy verdict being given. An illustration will

+show the difference between a legitimate appeal to the test and an

+illegitimate appeal to it. A and B are two lines. How is it decided

+that they are equal or not equal? No way is open but that of comparing

+the two impressions they make on consciousness. I know them to be

+unequal by an immediate act, if the difference is great, or if, though

+only moderately different, they are close together; and supposing the

+difference is but slight, I decide the question by putting the lines

+in apposition when they are movable, or by carrying a movable line

+from one to the other if they are fixed. But in any case, I obtain

+in consciousness the testimony that the impression produced by the

+one line differs from that produced by the other. Of this difference

+I can give no further evidence than that I am conscious of it, and

+find it impossible, while contemplating the lines, to get rid of

+the consciousness. The proposition that the lines are unequal is a

+proposition of which the negation is inconceivable. But now suppose it

+is asked whether B and C are equal; or whether C and D are equal. No

+positive answer is possible. Instead of its being {200} inconceivable

+that B is longer than C, or equal to it, or shorter, it is conceivable

+that it is any one of the three. Here an appeal to the direct verdict

+of consciousness is illegitimate, because on transferring the

+attention from B to C, or C to D, the changes in the other elements

+of the impressions so entangle the elements to be compared, as to

+prevent them from being put in apposition. If the question of relative

+length is to be determined, it must be by rectification of the bent

+line; and this is done through a series of steps, each one of which

+involves an immediate judgment akin to that by which A and B are

+compared. Now as here, so in other cases, it is only simple percepts

+or concepts respecting the relations of which immediate consciousness

+can satisfactorily testify; and as here, so in other cases, it is by

+resolution into such simple percepts and concepts, that true judgments

+respecting complex percepts and concepts are reached. That things which

+are equal to the same thing are equal to one another, is a fact which

+can be known by direct comparison of actual or ideal relations, and can

+be known in no other way: the proposition is one of which the negation

+is inconceivable, and is rightly asserted on that warrant. But that

+the square of the hypothenuse of a right-angled triangle equals the

+sum of the squares of the other two sides, cannot be known immediately

+by comparison of two states of consciousness. Here the truth can be

+reached only mediately, through a series of simple judgments respecting

+the likenesses or unlikenesses of certain relations: each of which

+judgments is essentially of the same kind as that by which the above

+axiom is known, and has the same warrant. Thus it becomes apparent

+that the fallacious result of the test of necessity which Mr. Mill

+instances, is due to a misapplication of the test.

+

+These preliminary explanations have served to make clear the question

+at issue. Let us now pass to the essence of it.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Metaphysical reasoning is usually vitiated by some covert {201}

+_petitio principii_. Either the thing to be proved or the thing to be

+disproved, is tacitly assumed to be true in the course of the proof

+or disproof. It is thus with the argument of Idealism. Though the

+conclusion reached is that Mind and Ideas are the only existences; yet

+the steps by which this conclusion is reached, take for granted that

+external objects have just the kind of independent existence which is

+eventually denied. If that extension which the Idealist contends is

+merely an affection of consciousness, has nothing out of consciousness

+answering to it; then, in each of his propositions concerning

+extension, the word should always mean an affection of consciousness

+and nothing more. But if wherever he speaks of distances and dimensions

+we write ideas of distances and dimensions, his propositions are

+reduced to nonsense. So, too, is it with Scepticism. The resolution

+of all knowledge into “impressions” and “ideas,” is effected by an

+analysis which assumes at every step an objective reality producing

+the impressions and the subjective reality receiving them. The

+reasoning becomes impossible if the existence of object and subject

+be not admitted at the outset. Agree with the Sceptic’s doubt, and

+then propose to revise his argument so that it may harmonize with his

+doubt. Of the two alternatives between which he halts, assume, first,

+the reality of object and subject. His argument is practicable; whether

+valid or not. Now assume that object and subject do not exist. He

+cannot stir a step toward his conclusion—nay, he cannot even state his

+conclusion; for the word “impression” cannot be translated into thought

+without assuming a thing impressing and a thing impressed.

+

+Though Empiricism, as at present understood, is not thus suicidal, it

+is open to an analogous criticism on its method, similarly telling

+against the validity of its inference. It proposes to account for our

+so-called necessary beliefs, as well as all our other beliefs; and to

+do this without postulating any one belief as necessary. Bringing {202}

+forward abundant evidence that the connexions among our states of

+consciousness are determined by our experiences—that two experiences

+frequently recurring together in consciousness, become so coherent

+that one strongly suggests the other, and that when their joint

+recurrence is perpetual and invariable, the connexion between them

+becomes indissoluble; it argues that the indissolubility, so produced,

+is all that we mean by necessity. And then it seeks to explain each

+of our so-called necessary beliefs as thus originated. Now could pure

+Empiricism reach this analysis and its subsequent synthesis without

+taking any thing for granted, its arguments would be unobjectionable.

+But it cannot do this. Examine its phraseology, and there arises the

+question, Experiences of _what_? Translate the word into thought,

+and it clearly involves something more than states of mind and the

+connexions among them. For if it does not, then the hypothesis is that

+states of mind are generated by the experiences of states of mind;

+and if the inquiry be pursued, this ends with initial states of mind

+which are not accounted for—the hypothesis fails. Evidently, there is

+tacitly assumed something beyond the mind by which the “experiences”

+are produced—something in which exist the objective relations to

+which the subjective relations correspond—an external world. Refuse

+thus to explain the word “experiences,” and the hypothesis becomes

+meaningless. But now, having thus postulated an external reality as

+the indispensable foundation of its reasonings, pure Empiricism can

+subsequently neither prove nor disprove its postulate. An attempt to

+disprove it, or to give it any other meaning than that originally

+involved, is suicidal; and an attempt to establish it by inference is

+reasoning in a circle. What then are we to say of this proposition

+on which Empiricism rests? Is it a necessary belief, or is it not?

+If necessary, the hypothesis in its pure form is abandoned. If not

+necessary—if not posited {203} _à priori_ as absolutely certain—then

+the hypothesis rests on an uncertainty; and the whole fabric of its

+argument is unstable. More than this is true. Besides the insecurity

+implied by building on a foundation that is confessedly not beyond

+question, there is the much greater insecurity implied by raising

+proposition upon proposition of which each is confessedly not beyond

+question. For to say that there are no necessary truths, is to say

+that each successive inference is not necessarily involved in its

+premises—is an empirical judgment—a judgment not certainly true. Hence,

+applying rigorously its own doctrine, we find that pure Empiricism,

+starting from an uncertainty and progressing through a series of

+uncertainties, cannot claim much certainty for its conclusions.

+

+Doubtless, it may be replied that any theory of human knowledge

+must set out with assumptions—either permanent or provisional; and

+that the validity of these assumptions is to be determined by the

+results reached through them. But that such assumptions may be made

+legitimately, two things are required. In the first place they must

+not be multiplied step after step as occasion requires; otherwise

+the conclusion reached might as well be assumed at once. And in the

+second place, the fact that they _are_ assumptions must not be lost

+sight of: the conclusions drawn must not be put forward as though they

+have a certainty which the premises have not. Now pure Empiricism, in

+common with other theories of knowledge, is open to the criticism, that

+it neglects thus avowedly to recognize the nature of those primary

+assumptions which it lays down as provisionally valid, if it denies

+that they can be necessarily valid. And it is open to the further

+criticism, that it goes on at every step in its argument making

+assumptions which it neglects to specify as provisional; since they,

+too, cannot be known as necessary. Until it has assigned some warrant

+for its original datum and for each of its subsequent inferences, or

+else has {204} acknowledged them all to be but hypothetical, it may be

+stopped either at the outset or at any stage in its argument. Against

+every “because” and every “therefore,” an opponent may enter a caveat,

+until he is told why it is asserted: contending, as he may, that if

+this inference is not necessary he is not bound to accept it; and that

+if it is necessary it must be openly declared to be necessary, and some

+test must be assigned by which it is distinguished from propositions

+that are not necessary.

+

+These considerations will, I think, make it obvious that the first step

+in a metaphysical argument, rightly carried on, must be an examination

+of propositions for the purpose of ascertaining what character is

+common to those which we call unquestionably true, and is implied by

+asserting their unquestionable truth. Further, to carry on this inquiry

+legitimately, we must restrict our analysis rigorously to states of

+consciousness considered in their relations to one another: wholly

+ignoring any thing beyond consciousness to which these states and their

+relations may be supposed to refer. For if, before we have ascertained

+by comparing propositions what is the trait that leads us to class some

+of them as certainly true, we avowedly or tacitly take for granted

+the existence of something beyond consciousness; then, a particular

+proposition is assumed to be certainly true before we have ascertained

+what is the distinctive character of the propositions which we call

+certainly true, and the analysis is vitiated. If we cannot transcend

+consciousness—if, therefore, what we know as truth must be some mental

+state, or some combination of mental states; it must be possible for

+us to say in what way we distinguish this state or these states. The

+definition of truth must be expressible in terms of consciousness;

+and, indeed, cannot otherwise be expressed if consciousness cannot be

+transcended. Clearly, then, the metaphysician’s first step must be to

+shut out from his investigation every thing but what is subjective;

+not taking for granted the {205} existence of any thing objective

+corresponding to his ideas, until he has ascertained what property of

+his ideas it is which he predicates by calling them true. Let us note

+the result if he does this.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+The words of a proposition are the signs of certain states of

+consciousness; and the thing alleged by a proposition is the connexion

+or disconnexion of the states of consciousness signified. When thinking

+is carried on with precision—when the mental states which we call

+words, are translated into the mental states they symbolize (which

+they very frequently are not)—thinking a proposition consists in the

+occurrence together in consciousness of the subject and predicate. “The

+bird was brown,” is a proposition which implies the union in thought

+of a particular attribute with a group of other attributes. When the

+inquirer compares various propositions thus rendered into states of

+consciousness, he finds that they differ very greatly in respect of

+the facility with which the states of consciousness are connected and

+disconnected. The mental state known as _brown_ may be united with

+those mental states which make up the figure known as _bird_, without

+appreciable effort, or may be separated from them without appreciable

+effort: the bird may easily be thought of as black, or green, or

+yellow. Contrariwise, such an assertion as “The ice was hot,” is one

+to which he finds much difficulty in making his mind respond. The

+elements of the proposition cannot be put together in thought without

+great resistance. Between those other states of consciousness which

+the word _ice_ connotes, and the state of consciousness named _cold_,

+there is an extremely strong cohesion—a cohesion measured by the

+resistance to be overcome in thinking of the ice as _hot_. Further, he

+finds that in many cases the states of consciousness grouped together

+cannot be separated at all. The idea of pressure cannot be disconnected

+from the idea of something occupying space. Motion cannot be thought

+{206} of without an object that moves being at the same time thought

+of. And then, besides these connexions in consciousness which remain

+absolute under all circumstances, there are others which remain

+absolute under special circumstances. Between the elements of those

+more vivid states of consciousness which the inquirer distinguishes

+as perceptions, he finds that there is a temporarily-indissoluble

+cohesion. Though when there arises in him that comparatively faint

+state of consciousness which he calls the idea of a book, he can easily

+think of the book as red, or brown, or green; yet when he has that much

+stronger consciousness which he calls seeing a book, he finds that so

+long as there continue certain accompanying states of consciousness

+which he calls the conditions to perception, those several states of

+consciousness which make up the perception cannot be disunited—he

+cannot think of the book as red, or green, or brown; but finds that,

+along with a certain figure, there absolutely coheres a certain colour.

+

+Still shutting himself up within these limits, let us suppose the

+inquirer to ask himself what he thinks about these various degrees

+of cohesion among his states of consciousness—how he names them, and

+how he behaves toward them. If there comes, no matter whence, the

+proposition—“The bird was brown,” subject and predicate answering

+to these words spring up together in consciousness; and if there

+is no opposing proposition, he unites the specified and implied

+attributes without effort, and believes the proposition. If, however,

+the proposition is—“The bird was necessarily brown,” he makes an

+experiment like those above described, and finding that he can separate

+the attribute of brownness, and can think of the bird as green or

+yellow, he does not admit that the bird was necessarily brown. When

+such a proposition as “The ice was cold” arises in him, the elements

+of the thought behave as before; and so long as no test is applied,

+the union of the consciousness of cold with the {207} accompanying

+states of consciousness, seems to be of the same nature as the union

+between those answering to the words _brown_ and _bird_. But should

+the proposition be changed into—“The ice was necessarily cold,”

+quite a different result happens from that which happened in the

+previous case. The ideas answering to subject and predicate are here

+so coherent, that in the absence of careful examination they might

+pass as inseparable, and the proposition be accepted. But suppose

+the proposition is deliberately tested by trying whether ice can be

+thought of as not cold. Great resistance is offered in consciousness

+to this. Still, by an effort, he can imagine water to have its

+temperature of congelation higher than blood heat; and can so think

+of congealed water as hot instead of cold. Now the extremely strong

+cohesion of states of consciousness, thus experimentally proved by

+the difficulty of separating them, he finds to be what he calls a

+strong belief. Once more, in response to the words—“Along with motion

+there is something that moves,” he represents to himself a moving

+body; and, until he tries an experiment upon it, he may suppose the

+elements of the representation to be united in the same way as those

+of the representations instanced above. But supposing the proposition

+is modified into—“Along with motion there is necessarily something

+that moves,” the response made in thought to these words, discloses

+the fact that the states of consciousness called up in this case are

+indissolubly connected in the way alleged. He discovers this by trying

+to conceive the negation of the proposition—by trying to think of

+motion as _not_ having along with it something that moves; and his

+inability to conceive this negation is the obverse of his inability

+to tear asunder the states of consciousness which constitute the

+affirmation. Those propositions which survive this strain, are the

+propositions he distinguishes as necessary. Whether or not he means any

+thing else by this word, he evidently means that in his consciousness

+the connexions {208} they predicate are, so far as he can ascertain,

+unalterable. The bare fact is that he submits to them because he has

+no choice. They rule his thoughts whether he will or not. Leaving out

+all questions concerning the origin of these connexions—all theories

+concerning their significations, there remains in the inquirer the

+consciousness that certain of his states of consciousness are so welded

+together that all other links in the chain of consciousness yield

+before these give way.

+

+Continuing rigorously to exclude everything beyond consciousness, let

+him now ask himself what he means by reasoning? what is the essential

+nature of an argument? what is the peculiarity of a conclusion?

+Analysis soon shows him that reasoning is the formation of a coherent

+series of states of consciousness. He has found that the thoughts

+expressed by propositions, vary in the cohesions of their subjects and

+predicates; and he finds that at every step in an argument, carefully

+carried on, he tests the strengths of all the connexions asserted and

+implied. He considers whether the object named really does belong to

+the class in which it is included—tries whether he can think of it as

+_not_ like the things it is said to be like. He considers whether the

+attribute alleged is really possessed by all members of the class—tries

+to think of some member of the class that has _not_ the attribute—And

+he admits the proposition only on finding, by this criticism, that

+there is a greater degree of cohesion in thought between its elements,

+than between the elements of the counter-proposition. Thus testing

+the strength of each link in the argument, he at length reaches the

+conclusion, which he tests in the same way. If he accepts it, he does

+so because the argument has established in him an indirect cohesion

+between states of consciousness that were not directly coherent,

+or not so coherent directly as the argument makes them indirectly.

+But he accepts it only supposing that the connexion between the two

+states of consciousness {209} composing it, is not resisted by

+some stronger counter-connexion. If there happens to be an opposing

+argument, of which the component thoughts are felt, when tested, to be

+more coherent; or if, in the absence of an opposing argument, there

+exists an apposing conclusion, of which the elements have some direct

+cohesion greater than that which the proffered argument indirectly

+gives; then the conclusion reached by this argument is not admitted.

+Thus, a discussion in consciousness proves to be simply a trial of

+strength between different connexions in consciousness—a systematized

+struggle serving to determine which are the least coherent states

+of consciousness. And the result of the struggle is, that the least

+coherent states of consciousness separate, while the most coherent

+remain together—form a proposition of which the predicate persists in

+rising up in the mind along with its subject—constitute one of the

+connexions in thought which is distinguished as something known, or as

+something believed, according to its strength.

+

+What corollary may the inquirer draw, or rather what corollary must

+he draw, on pushing the analysis to its limit? If there are any

+indissoluble connexions, he is compelled to accept them. If certain

+states of consciousness absolutely cohere in certain ways, he is

+obliged to think them in those ways. The proposition is an identical

+one. To say that they are necessities of thought is merely another way

+of saying that their elements cannot be torn asunder. No reasoning

+can give to these absolute cohesions in thought any better warrant;

+since all reasoning, being a process of testing cohesions, is itself

+carried on by accepting the absolute cohesions; and can, in the last

+resort, do nothing more than present some absolute cohesions in

+justification of others—an act which unwarrantably assumes in the

+absolute cohesions it offers, a greater value than is allowed to the

+absolute cohesions it would justify. Here, then, the inquirer comes

+down to an {210} ultimate mental uniformity—a universal law of his

+thinking. How completely his thought is subordinated to this law,

+is shown by the fact that he cannot even represent to himself the

+possibility of any other law. To suppose the connexions among his

+states of consciousness to be otherwise determined, is to suppose a

+smaller force overcoming a greater—a proposition which may be expressed

+in words but cannot be rendered into ideas. No matter what he calls

+these indestructible relations, no matter what he supposes to be their

+meanings, he is completely fettered by them. Their indestructibility

+is the proof to him that his consciousness is imprisoned within them;

+and supposing any of them to be in some way destroyed, he perceives

+that indestructibility would still be the distinctive character of the

+bounds that remained—the test of those which he must continue to think.

+

+These results the inquirer arrives at without assuming any other

+existence than that of his own consciousness. They postulate nothing

+about mind or matter, subject or object. They leave wholly untouched

+the questions—what does consciousness imply? and how is thought

+generated? There is not involved in the analysis any hypothesis

+respecting the origin of these relations between thoughts—how there

+come to be feeble cohesions, strong cohesions, and absolute cohesions.

+Whatever some of the terms used may have seemed to connote, it will be

+found, on examining each step, that nothing is essentially involved

+beyond states of mind and the connexions among them, which are

+themselves other states of mind. Thus far, the argument is not vitiated

+by any _petitio principii_.

+

+Should the inquirer enter upon the question, How are these facts to

+be explained? he must consider how any further investigation is to

+be conducted, and what is the possible degree of validity of its

+conclusions. Remembering that he cannot transcend consciousness, he

+sees that anything in the shape of an interpretation must be {211}

+subordinate to the laws of consciousness. Every hypothesis he

+entertains in trying to explain himself to himself, being an hypothesis

+which can be dealt with by him only in terms of his mental states, it

+follows that any process of explanation must itself be carried on by

+testing the cohesions among mental states, and accepting the absolute

+cohesions. His conclusions, therefore, reached only by repeated

+recognitions of this test of absolute cohesion, can never have any

+higher validity than this test. It matters not what name he gives to a

+conclusion—whether he calls it a belief, a theory, a fact, or a truth.

+These words can be themselves only names for certain relations among

+his states of consciousness. Any secondary meanings which he ascribes

+to them must also be meanings expressed in terms of consciousness, and

+therefore subordinate to the laws of consciousness. Hence he has no

+appeal from this ultimate dictum; and seeing this, he sees that the

+only possible further achievement is the reconciliation of the dicta

+of consciousness with one another—the bringing all other dicta of

+consciousness into harmony with this ultimate dictum.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Here, then, the inquirer discovers a warrant higher than that

+which any argument can give, for asserting an objective existence.

+Mysterious as seems the consciousness of something which is yet out of

+consciousness, he finds that he alleges the reality of this something

+in virtue of the ultimate law—he is obliged to think it. There is

+an indissoluble cohesion between each of those vivid and definite

+states of consciousness which he calls a sensation, and an indefinable

+consciousness which stands for a mode of being beyond sensation, and

+separate from himself. When grasping his fork and putting food into

+his mouth, he is wholly unable to expel from his mind the notion of

+something which resists the force he is conscious of using; and he

+cannot suppress the nascent thought of an independent existence keeping

+apart his tongue and palate, and giving {212} him that sensation

+of taste which he is unable to generate in consciousness by his own

+activity. Though self-criticism shows him that he cannot know what

+this is which lies outside of him; and though he may infer that not

+being able to say what it is, it is a fiction; he discovers that such

+self-criticism utterly fails to extinguish the consciousness of it as

+a reality. Any conclusion into which he argues himself, that there

+is no objective existence connected with these subjective states,

+proves to be a mere verbal conclusion to which his thoughts will not

+respond. The relation survives every effort to destroy it—is proved

+by experiment, repeated no matter how often, to be one of which the

+negation is inconceivable; and therefore one having supreme authority.

+In vain he endeavours to give it any greater authority by reasoning;

+for whichever of the two alternatives he sets out with, leaves him at

+the end just where he started. If, knowing nothing more than his own

+states of consciousness, he declines to acknowledge any thing beyond

+consciousness until it is proved, he may go on reasoning for ever

+without getting any further; since the perpetual elaboration of states

+of consciousness out of states of consciousness, can never produce

+anything more than states of consciousness. If, contrariwise, he

+postulates external existence, and considers it as merely postulated,

+then the whole fabric of his argument, standing upon this postulate,

+has no greater validity than the postulate gives it, _minus_ the

+possible invalidity of the argument itself. The case must not be

+confounded with those cases in which an hypothesis, or provisional

+assumption, is eventually proved true by its agreement with facts; for

+in these cases the facts with which it is found to agree, are facts

+known in some other way than through the hypothesis: a calculated

+eclipse of the moon serves as a verification of the hypothesis of

+gravitation, because its occurrence is observable without taking for

+granted the hypothesis of gravitation. But when the external world

+{213} is postulated, and it is supposed that the validity of the

+postulate may be shown by the explanation of mental phenomena which

+it furnishes, the vice is, that the process of verification is itself

+possible only by assuming the thing to be proved.

+

+But now, recognizing the indissoluble cohesion between the

+consciousness of _self_ and an unknown _not-self_, as constituting a

+dictum of consciousness which he is both compelled to accept and is

+justified by analysis in accepting, it is competent for the inquirer

+to consider whether, setting out with this dictum, he can base on

+it a satisfactory explanation of what he calls knowledge. He finds

+such an explanation possible. The hypothesis that the more or less

+coherent relations among his states of consciousness, are generated

+by experience of the more or less constant relations in something

+beyond his consciousness, furnishes him with solutions of numerous

+facts of consciousness: not, however, of all, if he assumes that

+this adjustment of inner to outer relations has resulted from his

+own experiences alone. Nevertheless, if he allows himself to suppose

+that this moulding of thoughts into correspondence with things, has

+been going on through countless preceding generations; and that the

+effects of experiences have been inherited in the shape of modified

+organic structures; then he is able to interpret all the phenomena. It

+becomes possible to understand how these persistent cohesions among

+states of consciousness, are themselves the products of often-repeated

+experiences; and that even what are known as “forms of thought,”

+are but the absolute internal uniformities generated by infinite

+repetitions of absolute external uniformities. It becomes possible also

+to understand how, in the course of organizing of these multiplying

+and widening experiences, there may arise partially-wrong connexions

+in thought, answering to limited converse with things; and that these

+connexions in thought, temporarily taken for indissoluble ones, may

+afterwards be made dissoluble by presentation {214} of external

+relations at variance with them. But even when this occurs, it can

+afford no ground for questioning the test of indissolubility; since the

+process by which some connexion previously accepted as indissoluble,

+is broken, is simply the establishment of some antagonistic connexion,

+which proves, on a trial of strength, to be the stronger—which remains

+indissoluble when pitted against the other, while the other gives way.

+And this leaves the test just where it was; showing only that there is

+a liability to error as to what _are_ indissoluble connexions. From

+the very beginning, therefore, to the very end of the explanation,

+even down to the criticism of its conclusions and the discovery of its

+errors, the validity of this test must be postulated. Whence it is

+manifest, as before said, that the whole business of explanation can

+be nothing more than that of bringing all other dicta of consciousness

+into harmony with this ultimate dictum.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+To the positive justification of a proposition, may be added that

+negative justification which is derived from the untenability of the

+counter-proposition. When describing the attitude of pure Empiricism,

+some indications that its counter-proposition is untenable were given;

+but it will be well here to state, more specifically, the fundamental

+objections to which it is open.

+

+If the ultimate test of truth is not that here alleged, then what

+is the ultimate test of truth? And if there is no ultimate test of

+truth, then what is the warrant for accepting certain propositions

+and rejecting others? An opponent who denies the validity of this

+test, may legitimately decline to furnish any test himself, so long

+as he does not affirm any thing to be true; but if he affirms some

+things to be true and others to be not true, his warrant for doing

+so may fairly be demanded. Let us glance at the possible response to

+the demand. If asked why he holds it to be unquestionably true that

+two quantities which differ {215} in unequal degrees from a third

+quantity are themselves unequal, two replies seem open to him: he may

+say that this is an ultimate fact of consciousness, or that it is an

+induction from personal experiences. The reply that it is an ultimate

+fact of consciousness, raises the question, How is an ultimate fact

+of consciousness distinguished? All beliefs, all conclusions, all

+imaginations even, are facts of consciousness; and if some are to

+be accepted as beyond question because ultimate, while others are

+not to be accepted as beyond question because not ultimate, there

+comes the inevitable inquiry respecting the test of ultimacy. On the

+other hand, the reply that this truth is known only by induction from

+personal experiences, suggests the query—On what warrant are personal

+experiences asserted? The testimony of experience is given only through

+memory; and its worth depends wholly on the trustworthiness of memory.

+Is it, then, that the trustworthiness of memory is less open to doubt

+than the immediate consciousness that two quantities must be unequal if

+they differ from a third quantity in unequal degrees? This can scarcely

+be alleged. Memory is notoriously uncertain. We sometimes suppose

+ourselves to have said things which it turns out we did not say; and

+we often forget seeing things which it is proved we did see. We speak

+of many passages of our lives as seeming like dreams; and can vaguely

+imagine the whole past to be an illusion. We can go much further toward

+conceiving that our recollections do not answer to any actualities,

+than we can go toward conceiving the non-existence of Space. But even

+supposing the deliverances of memory to be above criticism, the most

+that can be said for the experiences to which memory testifies, is that

+we are obliged to think we have had them—cannot conceive the negation

+of the proposition that we have had them; and to say this is to assign

+the warrant which is repudiated.

+

+A further counter-criticism may be made. Throughout the argument

+of pure Empiricism, it is tacitly assumed that {216} there may be

+a Philosophy in which nothing is asserted but what is proved. It

+proposes to admit into the coherent fabric of its conclusions, no

+conclusion that is incapable of being established by evidence; and

+it thus takes for granted that not only may all derivative truths be

+proved, but also that proof may be given of the truths from which

+they are derived, down to the very deepest. The result of thus

+refusing to recognize some fundamental unproved truth, is simply to

+leave its fabric of conclusions without a base. The giving proof of

+any special proposition, is the assimilation of it to some class of

+propositions known to be true. If any doubt arises respecting the

+general proposition which is cited in justification of this special

+proposition, the course is to show that this general proposition

+is deducible from a proposition or propositions of still greater

+generality; and if pressed for proof of each such still more general

+proposition, the only resource is to repeat the process. Is this

+process endless? If so, nothing can be proved—the whole series of

+propositions depends on some unassignable proposition. Has the

+process an end? If so, there must eventually be reached a widest

+proposition—one which cannot be justified by showing that it is

+included by any wider—one which cannot be proved. Or to put the

+argument otherwise: Every inference depends on premises; every premise,

+if it admits of proof, depends on other premises; and if the proof of

+the proof be continually demanded, it must either end in an unproved

+premise, or in the acknowledgment that there cannot be reached any

+premise on which the entire series of proofs depends. Hence Philosophy,

+if it does not avowedly stand on some datum underlying reason, must

+acknowledge that it has nothing on which to stand.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+The expression of divergence from Mr. Mill on this fundamental

+question, I have undertaken with reluctance, only on finding it

+needful, both on personal and on general {217} grounds, that his

+statements and arguments should be met. For two reasons, especially,

+I regret having thus to contend against the doctrine of one whose

+agreement I should value more than that of any other thinker. In the

+first place, the difference is, I believe, superficial rather than

+substantial; for it is in the interests of the Experience-Hypothesis

+that Mr. Mill opposes the alleged criterion of truth; while it is as

+harmonizing with the Experience-Hypothesis, and reconciling it with

+all the facts, that I defend this criterion. In the second place, this

+lengthened exposition of a single point of difference, unaccompanied

+by an exposition of the numerous points of concurrence, unavoidably

+produces an appearance of dissent very far greater than that which

+exists. Mr. Mill, however, whose unswerving allegiance to truth is on

+all occasions so conspicuously displayed, will fully recognize the

+justification for this utterance of disagreement on a matter of such

+profound importance, philosophically considered; and will not require

+any apology for the entire freedom with which I have criticised his

+views while seeking to substantiate my own.

+

+

+

+

+{218}

+

+REPLIES TO CRITICISMS.

+

+

+[_First published in_ The Fortnightly Review _for November and December

+1873._]

+

+When made by a competent reader, an objection usually implies one

+of two things. Either the statement to which he demurs is wholly or

+partially untrue; or, if true, it is presented in such a way as to

+permit misapprehension. A need for some change or addition is in any

+case shown.

+

+Not recognizing the errors alleged, but thinking rather that

+misapprehensions cause the dissent of those who have attacked the

+metaphysico-theological doctrines held by me, I propose here to meet,

+by explanations and arguments, the chief objections urged: partly with

+the view of justifying these doctrines, and partly with the view of

+guarding against the wrong interpretations which it appears are apt to

+be made.

+

+The pages of a periodical intended for general reading may be thought

+scarcely fitted for the treatment of these highly abstract questions.

+There is now, however, so considerable a class interested in them,

+and they are so deeply involved with the great changes of opinion in

+progress, that I have ventured to hope for readers outside the circle

+of those who occupy themselves with philosophy.

+

+Of course the criticisms to be noticed I have selected, {219} either

+because of their intrinsic force, or because they come from men whose

+positions or reputations give them weight. To meet more than a few of

+my opponents is out of the question.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Let me begin with a criticism contained in the sermon preached by the

+Rev. Principal Caird before the British Association, on the occasion

+of its meeting in Edinburgh, in August, 1871. Expressed with a

+courtesy which, happily, is now less rare than of yore in theological

+controversy, Dr. Caird’s objection might, I think, be admitted without

+involving essential change in the conclusion demurred to; while it

+might be shown to tell with greater force against the conclusions of

+thinkers classed as orthodox, Sir W. Hamilton and Dean Mansel, than

+against my own. Describing this as set forth by me, Dr. Caird says:―

+

+ “His thesis is that the provinces of science and religion are

+ distinguished from each other as the known from the unknown and

+ unknowable. This thesis is maintained mainly on a critical examination

+ of the nature of human intelligence, in which the writer adopts and

+ carries to its extreme logical results the doctrine of the relativity

+ of human knowledge which, propounded by Kant, has been reproduced with

+ special application to theology by a famous school of philosophers

+ in this country. From the very nature of human intelligence, it

+ is attempted to be shown that it can only know what is finite and

+ relative, and that therefore the absolute and infinite the human mind

+ is, by an inherent and insuperable disability, debarred from knowing.

+ . . . . May it not be asked, for one thing, whether in the assertion,

+ as the result of an examination of the human intellect, that it

+ is incapable of knowing what lies beyond the finite, there is not

+ involved an obvious self-contradiction? The examination of the mind

+ can be conducted only by the mind, and if the instrument be, as is

+ alleged, limited and defective, the result of the inquiry must partake

+ of that defectiveness. Again, does not the knowledge of a limit imply

+ already the power to transcend it? In affirming that human science

+ is incapable of crossing the bounds of the finite world, is it not a

+ necessary presupposition that you who so affirm have crossed these

+ bounds?”

+

+That this objection is one I am not disinclined to recognize, will

+be inferred when I state that it is one I have myself raised. While

+preparing the second edition of the {220} _Principles of Psychology_,

+I found, among my memoranda, a note which still bore the wafers by

+which it had been attached to the original manuscript (unless, indeed,

+it had been transferred from the MS. of _First Principles_, which its

+allusion seems to imply). It was this:―

+

+ “I may here remark in passing that the several reasonings,

+ including the one above quoted, by which Sir William Hamilton would

+ demonstrate the pure relativity of our knowledge—reasonings which

+ clearly establish many important truths, and with which in the

+ main I agree—are yet capable of being turned against himself, when

+ he definitely concludes that it is impossible for us to know the

+ absolute. For to positively assert that the absolute cannot be known,

+ is in a certain sense to assert a _knowledge_ of it—is to _know_ it

+ as _unknowable_. To affirm that human intelligence is confined to the

+ conditioned, is to put an _absolute limit_ to human intelligence,

+ and implies _absolute knowledge_. It seems to me that the ‘learned

+ ignorance’ with which philosophy ends, must be carried a step further;

+ and instead of positively saying that the absolute is unknowable, we

+ must say that we cannot tell whether it is knowable or not.”

+

+Why I omitted this note I cannot now remember. Possibly it was because

+re-consideration disclosed a reply to the contained objection. For

+while it is true that the intellect cannot prove its own competence,

+since it must postulate its own competence in the course of the

+proof, and so beg the question; yet it does not follow that it cannot

+prove its own incompetence respecting questions of certain kinds. Its

+inability in respect of such questions has two conceivable causes.

+It may be that the deliverances of Reason in general are invalid, in

+which case the incompetence of Reason to solve questions of a certain

+class is implied by its general incompetence; or it may be that the

+deliverances of Reason, valid within a certain range, themselves end

+in the conclusion that Reason is incapable beyond that range. So that

+while there can be no proof of competence, because competence is

+postulated in each step of the demonstration, there may be proof of

+incompetence either (1) if the successive deliverances forming the

+steps of the demonstration, by severally evolving contradictions, show

+their untrustworthiness, or (2) if, being trustworthy, {221} they

+lead to the result that on certain questions Reason cannot give any

+deliverance.

+

+Reason leads both inductively and deductively to the conclusion

+that the sphere of Reason is limited. Inductively, this conclusion

+expresses the result of countless futile attempts to transcend

+this sphere—attempts to understand Matter, Motion, Space, Time,

+Force, in their ultimate natures—attempts which, bringing us always

+to alternative impossibilities of thought, warrant the inference

+that such attempts will continue to fail, as they have hitherto

+failed. Deductively, this conclusion expresses the result of mental

+analysis, which shows us that the product of thought is in all cases

+a relation, identified as such or such; that the process of thought

+is the identification and classing of relations; that therefore Being

+in itself, out of relation, is unthinkable, as not admitting of

+being brought within the form of thought. That is to say, deduction

+explains that failure of Reason established as an induction from many

+experiments. And to call in question the ability of Reason to give this

+verdict against itself in respect of these transcendent problems, is to

+call in question its ability to draw valid conclusions from premises;

+which is to assert a general incompetence necessarily inclusive of the

+special incompetence.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Closely connected with the foregoing, is a criticism from Dr. Mansel,

+on which I may here make some comments. In a note to his _Philosophy of

+the Conditioned_ p. 39, he says:―

+

+ “Mr. Herbert Spencer, in his work on _First Principles_, endeavours

+ to press Sir W. Hamilton into the service of Pantheism and Positivism

+ together” [a somewhat strange assertion, by the way, considering that

+ I reject them both], “by adopting the negative portion only of his

+ philosophy—in which, in common with many other writers, he declares

+ the absolute to be inconceivable by the mere intellect,—and rejecting

+ the positive portions, in which he most emphatically maintains that

+ the belief in a personal God is imperatively demanded by the facts

+ of our moral and emotional consciousness. . . . . Sir W. Hamilton’s

+ fundamental principle is, that consciousness {222} must be accepted

+ entire, and that the moral and religious feelings, which are the

+ primary source of our belief in a personal God, are in no way

+ invalidated by the merely negative inferences which have deluded men

+ into the assumption of an impersonal absolute. . . . . Mr. Spencer, on

+ the other hand, takes these negative inferences as the only basis of

+ religion, and abandons Hamilton’s great principle of the distinction

+ between knowledge and belief.”

+

+Putting these statements in the order most convenient for discussion, I

+will deal first with the last of them. Instead of saying what he does,

+Dr. Mansel should have said that I decline to follow Sir W. Hamilton

+in confounding two distinct, and indeed radically-opposed, meanings

+of the word _belief_. This word “is habitually applied to dicta of

+consciousness for which no proof can be assigned: both those which

+are unprovable because they underlie all proof, and those which are

+unprovable because of the absence of evidence.”[24] In the pages of the

+_Fortnightly Review_ for July, 1865, I exhibited this distinction as

+follows:―

+

+ “We commonly say we ‘believe’ a thing for which we can assign some

+ preponderating evidence, or concerning which we have received some

+ indefinable impression. We _believe_ that the next House of Commons

+ will not abolish Church-rates; or we _believe_ that a person on

+ whose face we look is good-natured. That is, when we can give

+ confessedly-inadequate proofs, or no proofs at all, for the things

+ we think, we call them ‘beliefs.’ And it is the peculiarity of these

+ beliefs, as contrasted with cognitions, that their connexions with

+ antecedent states of consciousness may be easily severed, instead of

+ being difficult to sever. But unhappily, the word ‘belief’ is also

+ applied to each of those temporarily or permanently indissoluble

+ connexions in consciousness, for the acceptance of which the only

+ warrant is that it cannot be got rid of. Saying that I feel a pain,

+ or hear a sound, or see one line to be longer than another, is saying

+ that there has occurred in me a certain change of state; and it is

+ impossible for me to give a stronger evidence of this fact than that

+ it is present to my mind. . . . . ‘Belief’ having, as above pointed

+ out, become the name of an impression for which we can give only a

+ confessedly-inadequate reason, or no reason at all; it happens that

+ when pushed hard respecting the warrant for any ultimate dictum of

+ consciousness, we say, in the absence of all assignable reason, that

+ we _believe_ it. Thus the two opposite poles of knowledge go under the

+ same name; and by the reverse connotations of this name, as used for

+ the most coherent and least coherent relations of thought, profound

+ misconceptions have been generated.”

+

+Now that the belief which the moral and religious {223} feelings are

+said to yield of a personal God, is not one of the beliefs which are

+unprovable because they underlie all proof, is obvious. It needs but to

+remember that in works on Natural Theology, the existence of a personal

+God is _inferred_ from these moral and religious feelings, to show that

+it is not contained in these feelings themselves, or joined with them

+as an inseparable intuition. It is not a belief like the beliefs which

+I now have that this is daylight, and that there is open space before

+me—beliefs which cannot be proved because they are of equal simplicity

+with, and of no less certainty than, each step in a demonstration. Were

+it a belief of this most certain kind, argument would be superfluous:

+all races of men and every individual would have the belief in an

+inexpugnable form. Hence it is manifest that, confusing the two very

+different states of consciousness called beliefs, Sir W. Hamilton

+ascribes to the second a certainty that belongs only to the first.

+

+Again, neither Sir W. Hamilton nor Dr. Mansel has enabled us to

+distinguish those “facts of our moral and emotional consciousness”

+which imperatively demand the belief in a personal God, from those

+facts of our (or of men’s) “moral and emotional consciousness” which,

+in those having them, imperatively demand beliefs that Sir W. Hamilton

+would regard as untrue. A New Zealand chief, discovering his wife

+in an infidelity, killed the man; the wife then killed herself that

+she might join her lover in the other world; and the chief thereupon

+killed himself that he might go after them to defeat this intention.

+These two acts of suicide furnish tolerably strong evidence that these

+New Zealanders believed in another world to which, they could go at

+will, and fulfil their desires as they did here. If they were asked

+the justification for this belief, and if the arguments by which they

+sought to establish it were not admitted, they might still fall back

+on emotional {224} consciousness as yielding them an unshakeable

+foundation for it. I do not see why a Fiji Islander, adopting the

+Hamiltonian argument, should not justify by it his conviction that

+after being buried alive, his life in the other world, forthwith

+commencing at the age he has reached in this, will similarly supply

+him with the joys of conquest and the gratifications of cannibalism.

+That he has a conviction to this effect stronger than the religious

+convictions current among civilized people, is proved by the fact that

+he goes to be buried alive quite willingly. And as we may presume that

+his conviction is not the outcome of a demonstration, it must be the

+outcome of some state of feeling—some “emotional consciousness.” Why,

+then, should he not assign the “facts” of his “emotional consciousness”

+as “imperatively demanding” this belief? Manifestly, this principle

+that “consciousness must be accepted entire,” either obliges us to

+accept as true the superstitions of all mankind, or else obliges us to

+say that the consciousness of a certain limited class of cultivated

+people is alone meant. If things are to be believed simply because

+the facts of emotional consciousness imperatively demand the beliefs,

+I do not see why the actual existence of a ghost in a house, is not

+inevitably implied by the intense fear of it that is aroused in the

+child or the servant.

+

+Lastly, and chiefly, I have to deal with Dr. Mansel’s statement that

+“Mr. Spencer, on the other hand, takes these negative inferences as

+the only basis of religion.” This statement is exactly the reverse

+of the truth; since I have contended, against Hamilton and against

+him, that the consciousness of that which is manifested to us through

+phenomena is _positive_, and not _negative_, as they allege, and that

+this positive consciousness supplies an indestructible basis for the

+religious sentiment (_First Principles_, § 26). Instead of giving here

+passages to show this, I may fitly quote the statement and opinion of a

+{225} foreign theologian. M. le pasteur Grotz, of the Reformed Church

+at Nismes, writes thus:―

+

+ “La science serait-elle done par nature ennemie de la religion? pour

+ être religieux, faut-il proscrire la science?—C’est la science,

+ la science expérimentale qui va maintenant parler en faveur de la

+ religion; c’est elle qui, par la bouche de l’un des penseurs . . . de

+ notre époque, M. Herbert Spencer, va répondre à la fois à M. Vacherot

+ et à M. Comte.”

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+ “Ici, M. Spencer discute la théorie de l’_inconditionné_; entendez

+ par ce mot: Dieu. Le philosophie écossais, Hamilton, et son disciple,

+ M. Mansel, disent comme nos positivistes français: ‘Nous ne pouvons

+ affirmer l’existence positive de quoi que ce soit au delà des

+ phénomènes.’ Seulement, Hamilton et son disciple se séparent de nos

+ compatriotes en faisant intervenir une ‘révélation merveilleuse’ qui

+ nous fait croire à l’existence de l’inconditionné, et grâce à cette

+ révélation vraiment merveilleuse, toute l’orthodoxie revient. Est-il

+ vrai que nous ne puissions rien affirmer au delà des phénomènes? M.

+ Spencer déclare qu’il y a dans cette assertion une grave erreur. Le

+ côté logique, dit-il fort justement, n’est pas le seul; il y a aussi

+ le côté psychologique, et, selon nous, il prouve que l’existence

+ positive de l’absolu est une donnée nécessaire de la conscience.”

+

+ “Là est la base de l’accord entre la religion et la science. Dans un

+ chapitre . . . . intitulé _Réconciliation_, M. Spencer etablit et

+ développe cet accord sur son véritable terrain.”

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+ “M. Spencer, en restant sur le terrain de la logique et de la

+ psychologie, et sans recourir à une intervention surnaturelle, a

+ établi la legitimité, la nécessité et l’eternelle durée du sentiment

+ religieux et de la religion.”[25]

+

+I turn next to what has been said by Dr. Shadworth H. Hodgson, in his

+essay on “The Future of Metaphysic,” published in the _Contemporary

+Review_ for November, 1872. Remarking only, with respect to the

+agreements he expresses in certain views of mine, that I value them

+as coming from a thinker of subtlety and independence, I will confine

+myself here to his disagreements. Dr. Hodgson, before giving his own

+view, briefly describes and criticizes the views of Hegel and Comte,

+with both of whom he partly agrees and partly disagrees, and then {226}

+proceeds to criticize the view set forth by me. After a preliminary

+brief statement of my position, to the wording of which I demur, he

+goes on to say:―

+

+ “In his _First Principles_, Part I, second ed., there is a chapter

+ headed ‘Ultimate Scientific Ideas,’ in which he enumerates six such

+ ideas or groups of ideas, and attempts to show that they are entirely

+ incomprehensible. The six are:—1. Space and Time. 2. Matter. 3. Rest

+ and Motion. 4. Force. 5. Consciousness. 6. The Soul, or the Ego. Now

+ to enter at length into all of these would be an undertaking too large

+ for the present occasion; but I will take the first of the six, and

+ endeavour to show in its case the entire untenability of Mr. Spencer’s

+ view; and since the same arguments may be employed against the rest, I

+ shall be content that my case against them should be held to fail if

+ my case should fail in respect to Space and Time.”

+

+I willingly join issue with Dr. Hodgson on these terms; and proceed

+to examine, one by one, the several arguments he uses to show the

+invalidity of my conclusions. Following his criticisms in the order

+he has chosen, I begin with the sentence following that which I have

+just quoted. The first part of it runs thus:—“The metaphysical view of

+Space and Time is, that they are elements in all phenomena, whether the

+phenomena are presentations or representations.”

+

+Whether, by “the metaphysical view,” is here meant the view of Kant,

+whether it means Dr. Hodgson’s own view, or whether the expression has

+a more general meaning, I have simply to reply that the metaphysical

+view is incorrect. Dealing with the Kantian version of this doctrine,

+that Space is a form of intuition, I have pointed out that only with

+certain classes of phenomena is Space united indissolubly; that Kant

+habitually considers phenomena belonging to the visual and tactual

+groups, with which the consciousness of space is inseparably joined,

+and overlooks groups with which it is not inseparably joined. Though

+in the adult, perception of sound has certain space-implications,

+mostly, if not wholly, acquired by individual experience; and though it

+would seem from the instructive experiments of Mr. Spalding, that in

+creatures born with nervous systems much more organized than our own

+are at birth, {227} there is some innate perception of the side from

+which a sound comes; yet it is demonstrable that the space-implications

+of sound are not originally given with the sensation as its form

+of intuition. Bearing in mind the Kantian doctrine, that Space is

+the form of sensuous intuitions not only as _presented_ but also as

+_represented_, let us examine critically our musical ideas. As I have

+elsewhere suggested to the reader―

+

+ “Let him observe what happens when some melody takes possession of

+ his imagination. Its tones and cadences go on repeating themselves

+ apart from any space-consciousness—they are not localized. He may or

+ may not be reminded of the place where he heard them—this association

+ is incidental only. Having observed this, he will see that such

+ space-implications as sounds have, are learnt in the course of

+ individual experience, and are not given with the sounds themselves.

+ Indeed, if we refer to the Kantian definition of form, we get a simple

+ and conclusive proof of this. Kant says form is ‘that which effects

+ that the content of the phænomenon can be arranged under certain

+ relations.’ How then can the content of the phenomenon we call sound

+ be arranged? Its parts can be arranged in order of sequence—that is,

+ in Time. But there is no possibility of arranging its parts in order

+ of coexistence—that is, in Space. And it is just the same with odour.

+ Whoever thinks that sound and odour have Space for their form of

+ intuition, may convince himself to the contrary by trying to find the

+ right and left sides of a sound, or to imagine an odour turned the

+ other way upwards.”—_Principles of Psychology_, § 399.—Note.

+

+As I thus dissent, not I think without good reason, from “the

+metaphysical view of Space and Time” as “elements in all phenomena,”

+it will naturally be expected that I dissent from the first criticism

+which Dr. Hodgson proceeds to deduce from it. Dealing first with the

+arguments I have used to show the incomprehensibility of Space and

+Time, if we consider them as objective, and stating in other words the

+conclusion I draw, that “as Space and Time cannot be either nonentities

+nor the attributes of entities, we have no choice but to consider them

+as entities.” Dr. Hodgson continues:―

+

+  “So far good. Secondly, he argues that they cannot be represented

+ in thought as such real existences, because ‘to be conceived at

+ all, a thing must be conceived as having attributes.’ Now here the

+ metaphysical doctrine enables us to conceive them as real existences,

+ and rebuts the argument for {228} their inconceivability; for the

+ other element, the material element, the feeling or quality occupying

+ Space and Time stands in the place and performs the function of the

+ required attributes, composing together with the space and time which

+ is occupied the empirical phenomena of perception. So far as this

+ argument of Mr. Spencer goes, then, we are entitled to say that his

+ case for the inconceivability of Space and Time as real existences is

+ not made out.”

+

+Whether the fault is in me or not I cannot say, but I fail to see

+that my argument is thus rebutted. On the contrary, it appears to me

+substantially conceded. What kind of entity is that which can exist

+only when occupied by something else? Dr. Hodgson’s own argument is

+a tacit assertion that Space _by itself_ cannot be conceived as an

+existence; and this is all that I have alleged.

+

+Dr. Hodgson deals next with the further argument, familiar to all

+readers, which I have added as showing the insurmountable difficulty

+in the way of conceiving Space and Time as objective entities; namely,

+that “all entities which we actually know as such are limited. . . .

+But of Space and Time we cannot assert either limitation, or the

+absence of limitation.” Without quoting at length the reasons Dr.

+Hodgson gives for distinguishing between Space as _per_ceived and Space

+as _con_ceived, it will suffice if I quote his own statement of the

+result to which they bring him: “So that Space and Time as perceived

+are not finite, but infinite, as conceived are not infinite, but

+finite.”

+

+Most readers will, I think, be startled by the assertion that

+conception is less extensive in range than perception; but, without

+dwelling on this, I will content myself by asking in what case Space

+is perceived as infinite? Surely Dr. Hodgson does not mean to say that

+he can perceive the whole surrounding Space at once—that the Space

+behind is united in perception with the Space in front. Yet this is

+the necessary implication of his words. Taking his statement less

+literally, however, and not dwelling on the fact that in perception

+Space is habitually bounded by objects more or less distant, let

+us test his {229} assertion under the most favourable conditions.

+Supposing the eye directed upwards towards a clear sky; is not the

+space then perceived, laterally limited? The visual area, restricted

+by the visual apertures, cannot include in perception even 180° from

+side to side, and is still more confined in a direction at right angles

+to this. Even in the third direction, to which alone Dr. Hodgson

+evidently refers, it cannot properly be said that it is infinite in

+perception. Look at a position in the sky a thousand miles off. Now

+look at a position a million miles off. What is the difference in

+perception? Nothing. How then can an infinite distance be perceived

+when these immensely-unlike finite distances cannot be perceived as

+differing from one another, or from an infinite distance? Dr. Hodgson

+has used the wrong word. Instead of saying that Space as perceived is

+infinite, he should have said that, in perception, Space is finite in

+two dimensions, and becomes _indefinite_ in the third when this becomes

+great.

+

+I now come to the paragraph beginning “Mr. Spencer then turns to

+the second or subjective hypothesis, that of Kant.” This paragraph

+is somewhat difficult to deal with, because in it my reasoning is

+criticized both from the Kantian point of view and from Dr. Hodgson’s

+own point of view. Dissenting from Kant’s view, Dr. Hodgson says, “I

+hold that both Space and Time and Feeling, or the material element, are

+equally and alike subjective, equally and alike objective.” As I cannot

+understand this, I am unable to deal with those arguments against me

+which Dr. Hodgson bases upon it, and must limit myself to that which he

+urges on behalf of Kant. He says:―

+

+  “But I think that Mr. Spencer’s representation of Kant’s view is

+ very incorrect; he seems to be misled by the large term non-ego. Kant

+ held that Space and Time were _in their origin_ subjective, but when

+ applied to the non-ego resulted in phenomena, and were the formal

+ element in those phenomena, among which some were phenomena of the

+ internal sense or ego, others of the external sense or non-ego. The

+ non-ego to which the forms of Space and Time did not apply and did not

+ belong, was the Ding-an-sich, not the {230} phenomenal non-ego. Hence

+ the objective existence of Space and Time in phenomena, but not in the

+ Ding-an-sich, is a consistent and necessary consequence of Kant’s view

+ of their subjective origin.”

+

+If I have misunderstood Kant, as thus alleged, then my comment must be

+that I credited him with an hypothesis less objectionable than that

+which he held. I supposed his view to be that Space, as a form of

+intuition belonging to the _ego_, is imposed by it on the _non-ego_

+(by which I understood the thing in itself) in the act of intuition.

+But now the Kantian doctrine is said to be that Space, originating in

+the _ego_, when applied to the _non-ego_, results in phenomena (the

+_non-ego_ meant being, in that case, necessarily the Ding-an-sich, or

+thing in itself); and that the phenomena so resulting become objective

+existences along with the Space given to them by the subject. The

+subject having imposed Space as a form on the primordial object,

+or thing in itself, and so created phenomena, this Space thereupon

+becomes an objective existence, independent of both the subject and the

+original thing in itself! To Dr. Hodgson this may seem a more tenable

+position than that which I ascribed to Kant; but to me it seems only a

+multiplication of inconceivabilities. I am content to leave it as it

+stands: not feeling my reasons for rejecting the Kantian hypothesis

+much weakened.[26]

+

+The remaining reply which Dr. Hodgson makes runs thus:―

+

+  “But Mr. Spencer has a second argument to prove this

+ inconceivability. It is this:—‘If Space and Time are forms of

+ thought, they can never be {231} thought of; since it is impossible

+ for anything to be at once the _form_ of thought and the _matter_ of

+ thought.’ . . . . An instance will show the fallacy best. Syllogism is

+ usually held to be a form of thought. Would it be any argument for the

+ inconceivability of syllogisms to say, they cannot be at once the form

+ and the matter of thought? Can we not syllogize about syllogism? Or,

+ more plainly still,—no dog can bite himself, for it is impossible to

+ be at once the thing that bites and the thing that is bitten.”

+

+Had Dr. Hodgson quoted the whole of the passage from which he takes

+the above sentence; or had he considered it in conjunction with the

+Kantian doctrine to which it refers (namely, that Space survives in

+consciousness when all contents are expelled, which implies that

+then Space is the thing with which consciousness is occupied, or the

+_object_ of consciousness), he would have seen that his reply has none

+of the cogency he supposes. If, taking his first illustration, he will

+ask himself whether it is possible to “syllogize about syllogism,” when

+syllogism has no content whatever, symbolic or other—has nonentity to

+serve for major, nonentity for minor, and nonentity for conclusion;

+he will, I think, see that syllogism, considered as surviving terms

+of every kind, cannot be syllogized about: the “pure form” of reason

+(supposing it to be syllogism, which it is not) if absolutely

+discharged of all it contains, cannot be represented in thought, and

+therefore cannot be reasoned about. Following Dr. Hodgson to his second

+illustration, I must express my surprise that a metaphysician of his

+acuteness should have used it. For an illustration to have any value,

+the relation between the terms of the analogous case {232} must have

+some parallelism to the relation between the terms of the case with

+which it is compared. Does Dr. Hodgson really think that the relation

+between a dog and the part of himself which he bites, is like the

+relation between _matter_ and _form_? Suppose the dog bites his tail.

+Now the dog, as biting, stands, according to Dr. Hodgson, for the form

+as the containing mental faculty; and the tail, as bitten, stands for

+this mental faculty as contained. Now suppose the dog loses his tail.

+Can the faculty as containing and the faculty as contained be separated

+in the same way? Does the mental form when deprived of all content,

+even itself (granting that it can be its own content), continue to

+exist in the same way that a dog continues to exist when he has lost

+his tail? Even had this illustration been applicable, I should scarcely

+have expected Dr. Hodgson to remain satisfied with it. I should have

+thought he would prefer to meet my argument directly, rather than

+indirectly. Why has he not shown the invalidity of the reasoning used

+in the _Principles of Psychology_ (§ 399, 2nd ed.)? Having there quoted

+the statement of Kant, that “Space and Time are not merely forms of

+sensuous intuition, but _intuitions_ themselves;” I have written―

+

+ “If we inquire more closely, this irreconcilability becomes still

+ clearer. Kant says:—‘That which in the phænomenon corresponds to

+ the sensation, I term its _matter_; but that which effects that the

+ content of the phenomenon can be arranged under certain relations, I

+ call its _form_.’ Carrying with us this definition of form, as ‘that

+ which effects that the content . . . . can be arranged under certain

+ relations,’ let us return to the case in which the intuition of Space

+ is the intuition which occupies consciousness. Can the content of this

+ intuition ‘be arranged under certain relations’ or not? It can be so

+ arranged, or rather, it _is_ so arranged. Space cannot be thought of

+ save as having parts, near and remote, in this direction or the other.

+ Hence, if that is the form of a thing ‘which effects that the content

+ . . . . can be arranged under certain relations,’ it follows that

+ when the content of consciousness is the intuition of Space, which

+ has ‘parts that can be arranged under certain relations,’ there must

+ be a form of that intuition. What is it? Kant does not tell us—does

+ not appear to perceive that there must be such a form; and could

+ not have perceived this without abandoning his hypothesis that the

+ space-intuition is primordial.”

+

+Now when Dr. Hodgson has shown me how that “which {233} effects that

+the content . . . . can be arranged under certain relations,” may also

+be that which effects its own arrangement under the same relations, I

+shall be ready to surrender my position; but until then, no analogy

+drawn from the ability of a dog to bite himself will weigh much with me.

+

+Having, as he considers, disposed of the reasons given by me for

+concluding that, considered in themselves, “Space and Time are

+wholly incomprehensible” (he continually uses on my behalf the word

+“inconceivable,” which, by its unfit connotations, gives a wrong aspect

+to my position), Dr. Hodgson goes on to say:-

+

+ “Yet Mr. Spencer proceeds to use these inconceivable ideas as the

+ basis of his philosophy. For mark, it is Space and Time as we know

+ them, the actual and phenomenal Space and Time, to which all these

+ inconceivabilities attach. Mr. Spencer’s result, ought, therefore,

+ logically to be—Scepticism. What is his actual result? Ontology. And

+ how so? Why, instead of rejecting Space and Time as the inconceivable

+ things he has tried to demonstrate them to be, he substitutes for them

+ an Unknowable, a something which they really are, though we cannot

+ know it, and rejects that, instead of them, from knowledge.”

+

+This statement has caused me no little astonishment. That having

+before him the volume from which he quotes, so competent a reader

+should have so completely missed the meaning of the passages (§ 26)

+already referred to, in which I have contended against Hamilton and

+Mansel, makes me almost despair of being understood by any ordinary

+reader. In that section I have, in the first place, contended that

+the consciousness of an Ultimate Reality, though not capable of being

+made a thought, properly so called, because not capable of being

+brought within limits, nevertheless remains as a consciousness that is

+_positive_: is not rendered _negative_ by the negations of limits. I

+have pointed out that―

+

+  “The error, (very naturally fallen into by philosophers intent

+ on demonstrating the limits and conditions of consciousness),

+ consists in assuming that consciousness contains _nothing but_

+ limits and conditions; to the entire neglect of that which is

+ limited and conditioned. It is forgotten that there is something

+ which alike forms the raw material of definite thought and remains

+ after the definiteness which thinking gave to it has been {234}

+ destroyed”—something which “ever persists in us as the body of a

+ thought to which we can give no shape.”

+

+This _positive_ element of consciousness it is which, “at once

+necessarily indefinite and necessarily indestructible,” I regard as

+the consciousness of the Unknowable Reality. Yet Dr. Hodgson says “Mr.

+Spencer proceeds to use these inconceivable ideas as the basis of his

+philosophy:” implying that such basis consists of negations, instead

+of consisting of that which persists _notwithstanding the negation of

+limits_. And then, beyond this perversion, or almost inversion, of

+meaning, he conveys the notion that I take as the basis of philosophy,

+the “inconceivable ideas” “or self-contradictory notions” which result

+when we endeavour to comprehend Space and Time. He speaks of me as

+proposing to evolve substance out of form, or rather, out of the

+negations of forms—gives his readers no conception that the _Power_

+manifested to us is that which I regard as the Unknowable, while

+what we call Space and Time answer to the unknowable _nexus_ of its

+manifestations. And yet the chapter from which I quote, and still more

+the chapter which follows it, makes this clear—as clear, at least, as I

+can make it by carefully-worded statements and re-statements.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Philosophical systems, like theological ones, following the law of

+evolution in general, severally become in course of time more rigid,

+while becoming more complex and more definite; and they similarly

+become less alterable—resist all compromise, and have to be replaced by

+the more plastic systems that descend from them.

+

+It is thus with pure Empiricism and pure Transcendentalism. Down to

+the present time disciples of Locke have continued to hold that all

+mental phenomena are interpretable as results of accumulated individual

+experiences; and, by criticism, have been led simply to elaborate

+their interpretations—ignoring the proofs of inadequacy. On the other

+hand, disciples of Kant, {235} asserting this inadequacy, and led

+by perception of it to adopt an antagonist theory, have persisted in

+defending that theory under a form presenting fatal inconsistencies.

+And then, when there is offered a mode of reconciliation, the spirit

+of no-compromise is displayed: each side continuing to claim the whole

+truth. After it has been pointed out that all the obstacles in the way

+of the experiential doctrine disappear if the effects of ancestral

+experiences are joined with the effects of individual experiences, the

+old form of the doctrine is still adhered to. And meanwhile Kantists

+persist in asserting that the _ego_ is born with intuitional forms

+which are wholly independent of anything in the _non-ego_, after it

+has been shown that the innateness of these intuitional forms may be

+so understood as to escape the insurmountable difficulties of the

+hypothesis as originally expressed.

+

+I am led to say this by reading the remarks concerning my own views,

+made with an urbanity I hope to imitate, by Professor Max Müller, in a

+lecture delivered at the Royal Institution in March, 1873.[27] Before

+dealing with the criticisms contained in this lecture, I must enter a

+demurrer against that interpretation of my views by which Professor Max

+Müller makes it appear that they are more allied to those of Kant than

+to those of Locke. He says:―

+

+  “Whether the pre-historic genesis of these congenital dispositions

+ or inherited necessities of thought, as suggested by Mr. Herbert

+ Spencer, be right or wrong, does not signify for the purpose which

+ Kant had in view. In admitting that there is something in our mind,

+ which is not the result of our own _à posteriori_ experience, Mr.

+ Herbert Spencer is a thorough Kantian, and we shall see that he is

+ a Kantian in other respects too. If it could be proved that nervous

+ modifications, accumulated from generation to generation, could result

+ in nervous structures that are fixed in proportion as the outer

+ relations to which they answer are fixed, we, as followers of Kant,

+ should only have to put in the place of Kant’s intuitions of Space

+ and Time ‘the constant space-relations expressed in definite nervous

+ structures, congenitally framed to act in definite ways, and incapable

+ of acting in any other {236} way.’ If Mr. Herbert Spencer had not

+ misunderstood the exact meaning of what Kant calls the intuitions of

+ Space and Time, he would have perceived that, barring his theory of

+ the pre-historic origin of these intuitions, he was quite at one with

+ Kant.”

+

+On this passage let me remark, first, that the word “pre-historic,”

+ordinarily employed only in respect to human history, is misleading

+when applied to the history of Life in general; and his use of it

+leaves me in some doubt whether Professor Max Müller has rightly

+conceived the hypothesis he refers to.

+

+My second comment is, that the description of me as “quite at one with

+Kant,” “_barring_” the “theory of the prehistoric origin of these

+intuitions,” curiously implies that it is a matter of comparative

+indifference whether the forms of thought are held to be _naturally

+generated_ by intercourse between the organism and its environing

+relations, during the evolution of the lowest into the highest types,

+or whether such forms are held to be _supernaturally given_ to the

+human mind, and are independent both of environing relations and of

+ancestral minds. But now, addressing myself to the essential point, I

+must meet the statement that I have “misunderstood the exact meaning

+of what Kant calls the intuitions of Space and Time,” by saying that

+I think Professor Max Müller has overlooked certain passages which

+justify my interpretation, and render his interpretation untenable.

+For Kant says “Space is _nothing else_ than the form of all phenomena

+of the external sense;” further, he says that “Time is _nothing but_

+the form of our internal intuition;” and, to repeat words I have used

+elsewhere, “He distinctly shuts out the supposition that there are

+forms of the _non-ego_ to which these forms of the _ego_ correspond,

+by saying that ‘Space is not a conception which has been derived from

+outward experiences.’” Now so far from being in harmony with, these

+statements are in direct contradiction to, the view which I hold; and

+seem to me absolutely irreconcilable with it. How can it be said that,

+“barring” a difference represented as trivial, I am {237} “quite at

+one with Kant,” when I contend that these subjective forms of intuition

+are moulded into correspondence with, and therefore derived from, some

+objective form or _nexus_, and therefore dependent upon it; while the

+Kantian hypothesis is that these subjective forms are not derived from

+the object, but pre-exist in the subject—are imposed by the _ego_ on

+the _non-ego_. It seems to me that not only do Kant’s words, as above

+given, exclude the view which I hold, but also that Kant could not

+consistently have held any such view. Rightly recognizing, as he did,

+these forms of intuition as innate, he was, from his stand-point,

+_obliged_ to regard them as imposed on the matter of intuition in the

+act of intuition. In the absence of the hypothesis that intelligence

+has been evolved, it was _not possible_ for him to regard these

+subjective forms as having been derived from objective forms.

+

+A disciple of Locke might, I think, say that the Evolution-view of

+our consciousness of Space and Time is essentially Lockian, with

+more truth than Professor Max Müller can represent it as essentially

+Kantian. The Evolution-view is completely experiential. It differs

+from the original view of the experientialists by containing a great

+extension of that view. With the relatively-small effects of individual

+experiences, it joins the relatively-vast effects of the experiences of

+antecedent individuals. But the view of Kant is avowedly and absolutely

+unexperiential. Surely this makes the predominance of kinship manifest.

+

+In Professor Max Müller’s replies to my criticisms on Kant, I cannot

+see greater validity than in this affiliation to which I have demurred.

+One of his arguments is that which Dr. Hodgson has used, and which I

+have already answered; and I think that the others, when compared with

+the passages of the _Principles of Psychology_ which they concern, will

+not be found adequate. I refer to them here {238} chiefly for the

+purpose of pointing out that when he speaks of me as bringing “three

+arguments against Kant’s view,” he understates the number. Let me close

+what I have to say on this disputed question, by quoting the summary of

+reasons I have given for rejecting the Kantian hypothesis:―

+

+ “Kant tells us that Space is the form of all external intuition; which

+ is not true. He tells us that the consciousness of Space continues

+ when the consciousness of all things contained in it is suppressed;

+ which is also not true. From these alleged facts he _infers_ that

+ Space is an _à priori_ form of intuition. I say _infers_, because this

+ conclusion is not presented in necessary union with the premises,

+ in the same way that the consciousness of duality is necessarily

+ presented along with the consciousness of inequality; but it is a

+ conclusion voluntarily drawn for the purpose of explaining the alleged

+ facts. And then that we may accept this conclusion, which is not

+ necessarily presented along with these alleged facts which are not

+ true, we are obliged to affirm several propositions which cannot be

+ rendered into thought. When Space is itself contemplated, we have

+ to conceive it as at once the form of intuition and the matter of

+ intuition; which is impossible. We have to unite that which we are

+ conscious of as Space with that which we are conscious of as the

+ _ego_, and contemplate the one as a property of the other; which is

+ impossible. We have at the same time to disunite that which we are

+ conscious of as Space, from that which we are conscious of as the

+ _non-ego,_ and contemplate the one as separate from the other; which

+ is also impossible. Further, this hypothesis that Space is “nothing

+ else” than a form of intuition belonging wholly to the _ego_, commits

+ us to one of the two alternatives, that the _non-ego_ is formless or

+ that its form produces absolutely no effect upon the _ego_; both of

+ which alternatives involve us in impossibilities of thought.”—_Prin.

+ of Psy.,_ § 399.

+

+Objections of another, though allied, class have been made in a review

+of the _Principles of Psychology_ by Mr. H. Sidgwick—a critic whose

+remarks on questions of mental philosophy always deserve respectful

+consideration.

+

+Mr. Sidgwick’s chief aim is to show what he calls “the mazy

+inconsistency of his [my] metaphysical results.” More specifically, he

+expresses thus the proposition he seeks to justify—“His view of the

+subject appears to have a fundamental incoherence, which shows itself

+in various ways on the surface of his exposition, but of which the root

+lies {239} much deeper, in his inability to harmonise different lines

+of thought.”

+

+Before dealing with the reasons given for this judgment, let me say

+that, in addition to the value which candid criticisms have as showing

+where more explanation is needed, they are almost indispensable as

+revealing to a writer incongruities he had not perceived. Especially

+where, as in this case, the subject-matter has many aspects, and

+where the words supplied by our language are so inadequate in number

+that, to avoid cumbrous circumlocution, they have to be used in

+senses that vary according to the context, it is extremely difficult

+to avoid imperfections of statement. But while I acknowledge sundry

+such imperfections and the resulting incongruities, I cannot see

+that these are, as Mr. Sidgwick says, fundamental. Contrariwise,

+their superficiality seems to me proved by the fact that they may be

+rectified without otherwise altering the expositions in which they

+occur. Here is an instance.

+

+Mr. Sidgwick points out that, when treating of the “Data of

+Psychology,” I have said (in § 56) that, though we reach inferentially

+“the belief that mind and nervous action are the subjective and

+objective faces of the same thing, we remain utterly incapable of

+seeing, and even of imagining, how the two are related” (I quote

+the passage more fully than he does). He then goes on to show that

+in the “Special Synthesis,” where I have sketched the evolution of

+Intelligence under its objective aspect, as displayed in the processes

+by which beings of various grades adjust themselves to surrounding

+actions, I “speak as if” we could see how consciousness “naturally

+arises at a particular stage” of nervous action. The chapter he here

+refers to is one describing that “differentiation of the psychical

+from the physical life” which accompanies advancing organization, and

+more especially advancing development of the nervous system. In it I

+have shown {240} that, while the changes constituting physical life

+continue to be characterized by the _simultaneity_ with which all

+kinds of them go on throughout the organism, the changes constituting

+psychical life, arising as the nervous system develops, become

+gradually more distinguished by their _seriality_. And I have said that

+as nervous integration advances, “there must result an unbroken series

+of these changes—there must arise a consciousness.” Now I admit that

+here is an apparent inconsistency. I ought to have said that “there

+must result an unbroken series of these changes,” which, taking place

+in the nervous system of a highly-organized creature, gives coherence

+to its conduct; and along with which we assume a consciousness,

+because consciousness goes along with coherent conduct in ourselves.

+If Mr. Sidgwick will substitute this statement for the statement as it

+stands, he will see that the arguments and conclusions remain intact.

+A survey of the chapter as a whole, proves that its aim is not in the

+least to explain how nervous changes, considered as waves of molecular

+motion, become the feelings constituting consciousness; but that,

+contemplating the facts objectively in living creatures at large, it

+points out the cardinal distinction between vital actions in general,

+and those particular vital actions which, in a creature displaying

+them, lead us to speak of it as intelligent. It is shown that the rise

+of such actions becomes marked in proportion as the changes taking

+place in the part called the nervous system, are made more and more

+distinctly serial, by union in a supreme centre of co-ordination. The

+introduction of the word consciousness, arises in the effort to show

+what fundamental character there is in these particular physiological

+changes which is _parallel to_ a fundamental character in the

+psychological changes.

+

+Another instance of the way in which Mr. Sidgwick evolves an

+incongruity which he considers fundamental, out of what I should have

+thought he would see is a {241} defective expression, I will give in

+his own words. Speaking of a certain view of mine, he says:―

+

+ “He tells us that ‘logic . . . contemplates in its propositions

+ certain connexions predicated, which are necessarily involved with

+ certain other connexions given: _regarding all these connexions as

+ existing in the non-ego_—not, it may be, under the form in which

+ we know them, but in some form.’ But in § 473, where Mr. Spencer

+ illustrates by a diagram his ‘Transfigured Realism,’ the view seems

+ to be this: although we cannot say that the real non-ego resembles

+ our notion of it in ‘its elements, relations, or laws,’ we can say

+ that ‘a change in the objective reality causes in the subjective state

+ a change exactly answering to it—so answering as to _constitute a

+ cognition of it_.’ Here the ‘something beyond consciousness’ is no

+ longer said to be unknown, as its effect in consciousness ‘constitutes

+ a cognition of it.’”

+

+This apparent inconsistency, marked by the italics, would not

+have existed if, instead of “a cognition of it,” I had said, as I

+ought to have said, “_what we call_ a cognition of it”—that is, a

+relative cognition as distinguished from an absolute cognition. In

+ordinary language we speak of as cognitions, those connexions in

+thought which so guide us in our dealings with things, that actual

+experience verifies ideal anticipation: marking off, by opposed words,

+those connexions in thought which _mis_-guide us. The difference

+between accepting a cognition as relatively true and accepting

+it as absolutely true, will be clearly shown by an illustration.

+There is no direct resemblance whatever between the sizes, forms,

+colours, and arrangements, of the figures in an account-book, and the

+moneys or goods, debts or credits, represented by them; and yet the

+forms and arrangements of the written symbols, are such as answer

+in a perfectly-exact way to stocks of various commodities and to

+various kinds of transactions. Hence we say, figuratively, that the

+account-book will “tell us” all about these stocks and transactions.

+Similarly, the diagram Mr. Sidgwick refers to, suggests a way in which

+symbols, registered in us by objects, may have forms and arrangements

+wholly unlike their objective causes and the _nexus_ among those

+causes, while yet they are so related as to guide us correctly in

+our transactions {242} with those objective causes, and, _in that

+sense_, constitute cognitions of them; though they no more constitute

+cognitions in the absolute sense, than do the guiding symbols in the

+account-book constitute cognitions of the things to which they refer.

+So repeatedly is this view implied throughout the _Principles of

+Psychology_, that I am surprised to find a laxity of expression raising

+the suspicion that I entertain any other.

+

+To follow Mr. Sidgwick through sundry criticisms of like kind,

+which may be similarly met, would take more space than I can here

+afford. I must restrict myself now to the alleged “fundamental

+incoherence” of which he thinks these inconsistencies are signs. I

+refer to that reconciliation of Realism and Idealism considered by

+him as an impossible compromise. A difficulty is habitually felt in

+accepting a coalition after long conflict. Whoever has espoused one

+of two antagonist views, and, in defending it, has gained a certain

+comprehension of the opposite view, becomes accustomed to regard these

+as the only alternatives, and is puzzled by an hypothesis which is at

+once both and neither. Yet, since it turns out in nearly all cases

+that, of conflicting doctrines, each contains an element of truth, and

+that controversy ends by combination of their respective half-truths,

+there is _a priori_ probability on the side of an hypothesis which

+qualifies Realism by Idealism.

+

+Mr. Sidgwick expresses his astonishment, or rather bespeaks that of his

+readers, because, while I accept Idealistic criticisms, I nevertheless

+defend the fundamental intuition of Common Sense; and, as he puts

+it, “fires his [my] argument full in the face of Kant, Mill, and

+‘metaphysicians’ generally.”

+

+  “He tells us that ‘metaphysicians’ illegitimately assume that

+ ‘beliefs reached through complex intellectual processes,’ are more

+ valid than ‘beliefs reached through simple intellectual processes;’

+ that the common language they use refuses to express their hypotheses,

+ and thus their reasoning inevitably implies the common notions which

+ they repudiate; that the belief of Realism has the advantage of

+ ‘priority,’ ‘simplicity,’ ‘distinctness.’ {243} But surely this prior,

+ simple, distinctly affirmed belief is that of what Mr. Spencer terms

+ ‘crude Realism’, the belief that the non-ego is _per se_ extended,

+ solid, even coloured (if not resonant and odorous). This is what

+ common language implies; and the argument by which Mr. Spencer proves

+ the relativity of feelings and relations, still more the subtle and

+ complicated analysis by which he resolves our notion of extension into

+ an aggregate of feelings and transitions of feeling, lead us away from

+ our original simple belief—that (_e.g._) the green grass we see exists

+ out of consciousness as we see it—just as much as the reasonings of

+ Idealism, Scepticism, or Kantism.”

+

+On the face of it the anomaly seems great; but I should have thought

+that after reading the chapter on “Transfigured Realism,” a critic of

+Mr. Sidgwick’s acuteness would have seen the solution of it. He has

+overlooked an essential distinction. All which my argument implies is

+that the direct intuition of Realism must be held of superior authority

+to the arguments of Anti-Realism, _where their deliverances cannot

+be reconciled_. The one point on which their deliverances cannot be

+reconciled, is the existence of an objective reality. But while,

+against this intuition of Realism, I hold the arguments of Anti-Realism

+to be powerless, because they cannot be carried on without postulating

+that which they end by denying; yet, having admitted objective

+existence as a necessary postulate, it is possible to make valid

+criticisms upon all those judgments which Crude Realism joins with

+this primordial judgment: it is possible to show that a transfigured

+interpretation of properties and relations, is more tenable than the

+original interpretation.

+

+To elucidate the matter, let us take the most familiar case in which

+the indirect judgments of Reason correct the direct judgments of Common

+Sense. The direct judgment of Common Sense is that the Sun moves round

+the Earth. In course of time, Reason, finding some facts at variance

+with this, begins to doubt; and, eventually, hits upon an hypothesis

+which explains the anomalies, but which denies this apparently-certain

+_dictum_ of Common Sense. What is the reconciliation? It consists in

+showing {244} to Common Sense that the new interpretation equally

+well corresponds with direct intuition, while it avoids all the

+difficulties. Common Sense is reminded that the apparent motion of

+an object may be due either to its actual motion or to the motion of

+the observer; and that there are terrestrial experiences in which the

+observer thinks an object he looks at is moving, when the motion is in

+himself. Extending the conception thus given, Reason shows that if the

+Earth revolves on its axis, there will result that apparent motion of

+the Sun which Common Sense interpreted into an actual motion of the

+Sun; and the common-sense observer thereupon becomes able to think

+of sunrise and sunset as due to his position as spectator on a vast

+revolving globe. Now if the astronomer, setting out by recognizing

+these celestial appearances, and proceeding to evolve the various

+anomalies following from the common-sense interpretation of them, had

+drawn the conclusion that there externally exist no Sun and no motion

+at all, he would have done what Idealists do; and his arguments would

+have been equally powerless against the intuition of Common Sense. But

+he does nothing of the kind. He accepts the intuition of Common Sense

+respecting the reality of the Sun and of the motion; but replaces the

+old interpretation of the motion by a new interpretation reconcilable

+with all the facts.

+

+Everyone must see that here, acceptance of the inexpugnable element

+in the common-sense judgment, by no means involves acceptance of the

+accompanying judgments; and I contend that the like discrimination must

+be made in the case we are considering. It does not follow that while,

+against the consciousness which Crude Realism has of an objective

+reality, the arguments of Anti-Realism are futile, they are therefore

+futile against the conceptions which Crude Realism forms of the

+objective reality. If Anti-Realism can show that, granting an objective

+reality, the interpretation of Crude Realism contains insuperable {245}

+difficulties, the process is quite legitimate. And, its primordial

+intuition remaining unshaken, Realism may, on reconsideration, be

+enabled to frame a new conception which harmonizes all the facts.

+

+To show that there is not here the “mazy inconsistency” alleged, let

+us take the case of sound as interpreted by Crude Realism, and as

+re-interpreted by Transfigured Realism. Crude Realism assumes the

+sound present in consciousness to exist as such beyond consciousness.

+Anti-Realism proves the inadmissibility of this assumption in sundry

+ways (all of which, however, set out by talking of sounding bodies

+beyond consciousness, just as Realism talks of them); and then

+Anti-Realism concludes that we know of no existence save the sound as a

+mode of consciousness: which conclusion, and all kindred conclusions,

+I contend are vicious—first, because all the words used connote an

+objective activity; second, because the arguments are impossible

+without postulating at the outset an objective activity; and third,

+because no one of the intuitions out of which the arguments are built,

+is of equal validity with the single intuition of Realism that an

+objective activity exists. But now the Transfigured Realism which

+Mr. Sidgwick thinks “has all the serious incongruity of an intense

+metaphysical dream,” neither affirms the untenable conception of Crude

+Realism, nor, like Anti-Realism, draws unthinkable conclusions by

+suicidal arguments; but, accepting that which is essential in Crude

+Realism, and admitting the difficulties which Anti-Realism insists

+upon, reconciles matters by a re-interpretation analogous to that

+which an astronomer makes of the solar motion. Continuing all along

+to recognize an objective activity which Crude Realism calls sound,

+it shows that the answering sensation is produced by a succession of

+separate impacts which, if made slowly, may be separately identified,

+and which will, if progressively increased in rapidity, produce tones

+higher and higher in pitch. It {246} shows by other experiments that

+sounding bodies are in states of vibration, and that the vibrations

+may be made visible. And it concludes that the objective activity

+is not what it subjectively seems, but is proximately interpretable

+as a succession of aërial waves. Thus Crude Realism is shown that

+while there unquestionably exists an objective activity corresponding

+to the sensation known as sound, yet the facts are not explicable

+on the original supposition that this is like the sensation; while

+they are explicable by conceiving it as a rhythmical mechanical

+action. Eventually this re-interpretation, joined with kindred

+reinterpretations of other sensations, comes to be itself further

+transfigured by analysis of its terms, and re-expression of them in

+terms of molecular motion; but, however abstract the interpretation

+ultimately reached, the objective activity continues to be postulated:

+the primordial judgment of Crude Realism remains unchanged, though it

+has to change the rest of its judgments.

+

+In another part of his argument, however, Mr. Sidgwick implies that

+I have no right to use those conceptions of objective existence by

+which this compromise is effected. Quoting sundry passages to show

+that while I hold the criticisms of the Idealist to be impossible

+without “tacitly or avowedly postulating an unknown something beyond

+consciousness,” I yet admit that “our states of consciousness are the

+only things we can know;” he goes on to argue that I am radically

+inconsistent, because, in interpreting the phenomena of consciousness,

+I continually postulate, not an unknown something, but a something

+of which I speak in ordinary terms, as though its ascribed physical

+characters really exist as such, instead of being, as I admit they are,

+synthetic states of my consciousness. His objection, if I understand

+it, is that for the purposes of Objective Psychology I apparently

+profess to know Matter and Motion in the ordinary realistic way; while,

+as a result of subjective analysis, I reach the conclusion that {247}

+it is impossible to have that knowledge of objective existence which

+Realism supposes we have. Doubtless there seems here to be what he

+calls “a fundamental incoherence.” But I think it exists, not between

+my two expositions, but between the two consciousnesses of subjective

+and objective existence, which we cannot suppress and yet cannot put

+into definite forms. The alleged incoherence I take to be but another

+name for the inscrutability of the relation between subjective feeling

+and its objective correlate which is not feeling—an inscrutability

+which meets us at the bottom of all our analyses. An exposition of this

+inscrutability I have elsewhere summed up thus:―

+

+ “See, then, our predicament. We can think of Matter only in terms

+ of Mind. We can think of Mind only in terms of Matter. When we have

+ pushed our explorations of the first to the uttermost limit, we are

+ referred to the second for a final answer; and when we have got the

+ final answer of the second, we are referred back to the first for an

+ interpretation of it. We find the value of _x_ in terms of _y_; then

+ we find the value of _y_ in terms of _x_; and so on we may continue

+ for ever without coming nearer to a solution.”—_Prin. of Psy._ § 272.

+

+Carrying a little further this simile, will, I think, show where lies

+the insuperable difficulty felt by Mr. Sidgwick. Taking _x_ and _y_

+as the subjective and objective activities, unknown in their natures

+and known only as phenomenally manifested; and recognizing the fact

+that every state of consciousness implies, immediately or remotely,

+the action of object on subject or subject on object, or both; we

+may say that every state of consciousness will be symbolized by some

+modification of xy—the phenomenally-known product of the two unknown

+factors. In other words, _xy′_, _x′y_, _x′y′_, _x″y′_, _x′y″_, &c.,

+&c., will represent all perceptions and thoughts. Suppose, now,

+that these are thoughts about the object; composing some hypothesis

+respecting its characters as analyzed by physicists. Clearly, all

+such thoughts, be they about shapes, resistances, momenta, molecules,

+molecular motions, or what not, will contain forms of the subjective

+activity _x_. Now let the thoughts {248} be concerning mental

+processes. It must similarly happen that some mode of the unknown

+objective activity _y_, will be in every case a component. Now suppose

+that the problem is the genesis of mental phenomena; and that, in

+the course of the inquiry, bodily organization and the functions of

+the nervous system are brought into the explanation. It will happen,

+as before, that these, considered as objective, have to be described

+and thought about in modes of _xy_. And when by the actions of such

+a nervous system, conceived objectively in modes of _xy_, and acted

+upon by physical forces which are conceived in other modes of _xy_, we

+endeavour to explain the genesis of sensations, perceptions, and ideas,

+which we can think of only in other modes of _xy,_ we find that all our

+factors, and therefore all our interpretations, contain the two unknown

+terms, and that no interpretation is imaginable that will not contain

+the two unknown terms.

+

+What is the defence for this apparently-circular process? Simply that

+it is a process of establishing _congruity_ among our symbols. It is

+finding a mode of so symbolizing the unknown activities, subjective

+and objective, and so operating with our symbols, that all our acts

+may be rightly guided—guided, that is, in such ways that we can

+anticipate, when, where, and in what quantity some one of our symbols,

+or some combination of our symbols, will be found. Mr. Sidgwick’s

+difficulty arises, I think, from having insufficiently borne in mind

+the statements made at the outset, in “The Data of Philosophy,” that

+such conceptions as “are vital, or cannot be separated from the rest

+without mental dissolution, must be assumed as true _provisionally_;”

+that “there is no mode of establishing the validity of any belief

+except that of showing its entire _congruity_ with all other beliefs;”

+and that “Philosophy, compelled to make those fundamental assumptions

+without which thought is impossible, has to justify them by showing

+their _congruity_ with all other dicta of consciousness.” In {249}

+pursuance of this distinctly-avowed mode of procedure, I assume

+provisionally, an objective activity and a subjective activity, and

+certain general forms and modes (Space, Time, Matter, Motion, Force),

+which the subjective activity, operated on by the objective activity,

+ascribes to it, and which I suppose to correspond in some way to

+unknown forms and modes of the objective activity. These provisional

+assumptions, having been carried out to all their consequences, and

+these consequences proved to be congruous with one another and with

+the original assumptions, these original assumptions are justified.

+And if, finally, I assert, as I have repeatedly asserted, that the

+terms in which I express my assumptions and carry on my operations

+are but symbolic, and that all I have done is to show that by certain

+ways of symbolizing, perfect harmony results—invariable agreement

+between the symbols in which I frame my expectations, and the symbols

+which occur in experience—I cannot be blamed for incoherence. On the

+contrary, it seems to me that my method is the most coherent that

+can be devised. Lastly, should it be said that this regarding of

+everything constituting experience and thought as symbolic, has a very

+shadowy aspect; I reply that these which I speak of as symbols, are

+real relatively to our consciousness; and are symbolic only in their

+relation to the Ultimate Reality.

+

+That these explanations will make clear the coherence of views

+which before seemed “fundamentally incoherent,” I feel by no means

+certain; since, as I did not perceive the difficulties presented by

+the exposition as at first made, I may similarly fail to perceive

+the difficulties in this explanation. Originally, I had intended to

+complete the _Principles of Psychology_ by a division showing how

+the results reached in the preceding divisions, physiological and

+psychological, analytic and synthetic, subjective and objective,

+harmonize with one another, and are but different aspects of the same

+aggregate of phenomena. But the work was already {250} bulky; and

+I concluded that this division might be dispensed with, because the

+congruities to be pointed out were sufficiently obvious. So little was

+I conscious of the alleged “inability to harmonize different lines of

+thought.” Mr. Sidgwick’s perplexities, however, show me that such an

+exposition of concords is needful.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+I have reserved to the last, one of the first objections made to the

+metaphysico-theological doctrine set forth in _First Principles_, and

+implied in the several volumes that have succeeded it. It was urged by

+an able metaphysician, the Rev. James Martineau, in an essay entitled

+“Science, Nescience, and Faith;” and, effective against my argument as

+it stands, shows the need for some development of my argument. That

+Mr. Martineau’s criticism may be understood, I must quote the passages

+it concerns. Continuing the reasoning employed against Hamilton and

+Mansel, to show that our consciousness of that which transcends

+knowledge is _positive_, and not, as they allege, _negative_, I have

+said:―

+

+  “Still more manifest will this truth become when it is observed that

+ our conception of the Relative itself disappears, if our conception

+ of the Absolute is a pure negation. It is admitted, or rather it is

+ contended, by the writers I have quoted above, that contradictories

+ can be known only in relation to each other—that Equality, for

+ instance, is unthinkable apart from its correlative Inequality; and

+ that thus the Relative can itself be conceived only by opposition

+ to the Non-relative. It is also admitted, or rather contended, that

+ the consciousness of a relation implies a consciousness of both

+ the related members. If we are required to conceive the relation

+ between the Relative and Non-relative without being conscious of

+ both, ‘we are in fact’ (to quote the words of Mr. Mansel differently

+ applied) ‘required to compare that of which we are conscious with

+ that of which we are not conscious; the comparison itself being an

+ act of consciousness, and only possible through the consciousness of

+ both its objects.’ What, then, becomes of the assertion that, ‘the

+ Absolute is conceived merely by a negation of conceivability,’ or

+ as ‘the mere absence of the conditions under which consciousness is

+ possible?’ If the Non-relative or Absolute, is present in thought only

+ as a mere negation, then the relation between it and the Relative

+ becomes unthinkable, because one of the terms of the relation is

+ absent from consciousness. {251} And if this relation is unthinkable,

+ then is the Relative itself unthinkable, for want of its antithesis:

+ whence results the disappearance of all thought whatever.”—_First

+ Principles_, § 26.

+

+On this argument Mr. Martineau comments as follows; first re-stating it

+in other words:―

+

+ “Take away its antithetic term, and the relative, thrown into

+ isolation, is set up as absolute, and disappears from thought. It

+ is indispensable therefore to uphold the Absolute in existence,

+ as condition of the relative sphere which constitutes our whole

+ intellectual domain. Be it so: but when saved on this plea,—to

+ preserve the balance and interdependence of two _co_-relatives,—the

+ ‘Absolute’ is absolute no more; it is reduced to a term of relation:

+ it loses therefore its exile from thought: its disqualification is

+ cancelled: and the alleged nescience is discharged.

+

+ “So, the same law of thought which warrants the existence, dissolves

+ the inscrutableness, of the Absolute.”—_Essays, Philosophical and_

+ _Theological_ pp. 186–7.

+

+I admit this to be a telling rejoinder; and one which can be met only

+when the meanings of the words, as I have used them, are carefully

+discriminated, and the implications of the doctrine fully traced out.

+We will begin by clearing the ground of minor misconceptions.

+

+First, let it be observed that though I have used the word Absolute

+as the equivalent of Non-relative, because it is used in the passages

+quoted from the writers I am contending against; yet I have myself

+chosen for the purposes of my argument, the name Non-relative, and I

+do not necessarily commit myself to any propositions respecting the

+Absolute, considered as that which includes both Subject and Object.

+The Non-relative as spoken of by me, is to be understood rather as

+the totality of Being _minus_ that which constitutes the individual

+consciousness, present to us under forms of Relation. Did I use the

+word in some Hegelian sense, as comprehensive of that which thinks and

+that which is thought about, and did I propose to treat of the order of

+things, not as phenomenally manifested but as noumenally proceeding,

+the objection would be fatal. But the aim being simply to formulate

+the order of things as present under relative forms, the antithetical

+Non-relative here named as {252} implied by the conception of the

+Relative, is that which, in any act of thought, is outside of and

+beyond it, rather than that which is inclusive of it. Further, it

+should be observed that this Non-relative, spoken of as a necessary

+complement to the Relative, is not spoken of as a conception but as a

+_consciousness_; and I have in sundry passages distinguished between

+those modes of consciousness which, having limits, and constituting

+thought proper, are subject to the laws of thought, and the mode of

+consciousness which persists when the removal of limits is carried to

+the uttermost, and when distinct thought consequently ceases.

+

+This opens the way to the reply here to be made to Mr. Martineau’s

+criticism—namely, that while by the necessities of thought the Relative

+implies a Non-relative; and while, to think of this antithesis

+completely, requires that the Non-relative shall be made a conception

+proper; yet, for the vague thought which is alone in this case

+possible, it suffices that the Non-relative shall be present as a

+consciousness which though undefined is positive. Let us observe what

+necessarily happens when thought is employed on this ultimate question.

+

+In a preceding part of the argument criticized, I have, in various

+ways, aimed to show that, alike when we analyze the product of

+thought and when we analyze the process of thought, we are brought

+to the conclusion that invariably “a thought involves _relation_,

+_difference_, _likeness_;” and that even from the very nature of Life

+itself, we may evolve the conclusion that “thinking being relationing,

+no thought can ever express more than relations.” What, now, must

+happen if thought, having this law, occupies itself with the final

+mystery? Always implying terms in relation, thought implies that

+both terms shall be more or less defined; and as fast as one of them

+becomes indefinite, the relation also becomes indefinite, and thought

+becomes indistinct. Take the {253} case of magnitudes. I think of an

+inch; I think of a foot; and having tolerably-definite ideas of the

+two, I have a tolerably-definite idea of the relation between them.

+I substitute for the foot a mile; and being able to represent a mile

+much less definitely, I cannot so definitely think of the relation

+between an inch and a mile—cannot distinguish it in thought from the

+relation between an inch and two miles, as clearly as I can distinguish

+in thought the relation between an inch and one foot from the relation

+between an inch and two feet. And now if I endeavour to think of the

+relation between an inch and the 240,000 miles from here to the Moon,

+or the relation between an inch and the 93,000,000 miles from here to

+the Sun, I find that while these distances, practically inconceivable,

+have become little more than numbers to which I frame no answering

+ideas, so, too, has the relation between an inch and either of them

+become practically inconceivable. Evidently then this partial failure

+in the process of forming thought-relations, which happens even with

+finite magnitudes when one of them is immense, passes into complete

+failure when one of them cannot be brought within any limits. The

+relation itself becomes unrepresentable at the same time that one of

+its terms becomes unrepresentable. Nevertheless, in this case it is to

+be observed that the almost-blank form of relation preserves a certain

+qualitative character. It is still distinguishable as belonging to the

+consciousness of extensions, not to the consciousnesses of forces or

+durations; and in so far remains a vaguely-identifiable relation. But

+now suppose we ask what happens when one term of the relation has not

+simply magnitude having no known limits, and duration of which neither

+beginning nor end is cognizable, but is also an existence not to be

+defined? In other words, what must happen if one term of the relation

+is not only quantitatively but also qualitatively unrepresentable?

+Clearly in this case the {254} relation does not simply cease to

+be thinkable except as a relation of a certain class, but it lapses

+completely. When one of the terms becomes wholly unknowable, the

+law of thought can no longer be conformed to; both because one term

+cannot be present, and because relation itself cannot be framed. That

+is to say, the law of thought that contradictories can be known only

+in relation to each other, no longer holds when thought attempts to

+transcend the Relative; and yet, when it attempts to transcend the

+Relative, it must make the attempt in conformity with its law—must

+in some dim mode of consciousness posit a Non-relative, and, in some

+similarly dim mode of consciousness, a relation between it and the

+Relative. In brief then, to Mr. Martineau’s objection I reply, that

+the insoluble difficulties he indicates arise here, as elsewhere, when

+thought is applied to that which transcends the sphere of thought;

+and that just as when we try to pass beyond phenomenal manifestations

+to the Ultimate Reality manifested, we have to symbolize it out of

+such materials as the phenomenal manifestations give us; so we have

+simultaneously to symbolize the connexion between this Ultimate Reality

+and its manifestations, as somehow allied to the connexions among

+the phenomenal manifestations themselves. The truth Mr. Martineau’s

+criticism adumbrates, is that the law of thought fails where the

+elements of thought fail; and this is a conclusion quite conformable

+to the general view I defend. Still holding the validity of my

+argument against Hamilton and Mansel, that in pursuance of their own

+principle the Relative is not at all thinkable _as such_, unless in

+contradistinction to some existence posited, however vaguely, as

+the other term of a relation, conceived however indefinitely; it

+is consistent on my part to hold that in this effort which thought

+inevitably makes to pass beyond its sphere, not only does the product

+of thought become a dim symbol of a product, but the process of thought

+becomes a dim {255} symbol of a process; and hence any predicament

+inferable from the law of thought cannot be asserted.

+

+I may fitly close this reply by a counter-criticism. To the direct

+defence of a proposition, may be added the indirect defence which

+results from showing the untenability of an alternative proposition.

+This criticism on the doctrine of an Unknowable Existence manifested

+to us in phenomena, Mr. Martineau makes in the interests of the

+doctrine held by him, that this existence is, to a considerable

+degree, knowable. We are quite at one in holding that there is an

+indestructible consciousness of Power behind Appearance; but whereas

+I contend that this Power cannot be brought within the forms of

+thought, Mr. Martineau contends that there can be consistently ascribed

+certain attributes of personality—not, indeed, human characteristics

+so concrete as were ascribed in past times; but still, human

+characteristics of the more abstract and higher class. His general

+doctrine is this:—Regarding Matter as independently existing; regarding

+as also independently existing, those primary qualities of Body “which

+are inseparable from the very idea of Body, and may be evolved _a

+priori_ from the consideration of it as solid extension or extended

+solidity;” and saying that to this class “belong Triple Dimension,

+Divisibility, Incompressibility;” he goes on to assert that as these―

+

+  “cannot absent themselves from Body, they have a reality coeval with

+ it, and belong eternally to the material datum objective to God: and

+ his mode of activity with regard to them must be similar to that which

+ alone we can think of his directing upon the relations of Space, viz.

+ not Volitional, to cause them, but Intellectual, to think them out.

+ The Secondary Qualities, on the other hand, having no logical tie to

+ the Primary, but being appended to them as contingent facts, cannot

+ be referred to any deductive thought, but remain over as products of

+ pure Inventive Reason and Determining Will. This sphere of cognition,

+ _a posteriori_ to us,—where we cannot move a step alone but have

+ submissively to wait upon experience, is precisely the realm of Divine

+ originality: and we are most sequacious where He is most free. While

+ on this Secondary field His Mind and ours are thus contrasted, they

+ meet in resemblance again upon the Primary: for the evolutions of

+ deductive Reason there is but one track possible to all intelligences;

+ no {256} _merum arbitrium_ can interchange the false and true, or make

+ more than one geometry, one scheme of pure Physics, for all worlds:

+ and the Omnipotent Architect Himself, in realizing the Kosmical

+ conception, in shaping the orbits out of immensity and determining

+ seasons out of eternity, could but follow the laws of curvature,

+ measure, and proportion.”—_Essays, Philosophical and Theological_, pp.

+ 163–4.

+

+Before the major criticism which I propose to make on this hypothesis,

+let me make a minor one. Not only of space-relations, but also of

+primary physical properties, Mr. Martineau asserts the necessity: not

+a necessity to our minds simply, but an ontological necessity. What

+is true for human thought, is, in respect of these, true absolutely:

+“the laws of curvature, measure, and proportion,” as we know them, are

+unchangeable even by Divine power; as are also the Divisibility and

+Incompressibility of Matter. But if, in these cases, Mr. Martineau

+holds that a necessity in thought implies an answering necessity in

+things, why does he refrain from saying the like in other cases?

+Why, if he tacitly asserts it in respect of space-relations and the

+statical attributes of Body, does he not also assert it in respect of

+the dynamical attributes of Body? The laws conformed to by that mode

+of force now distinguished as “energy,” are as much necessary to our

+thought as are the laws of space-relations. The axioms of Mechanics

+lie on the same plane with the axioms of pure Mathematics. Now if

+Mr. Martineau admits this—if he admits, as he must, the corollary

+that there can be no such manifestation of energy as that displayed

+in the motion of a planet, save at the expense of equivalent energy

+which pre-existed—if he draws the further necessary corollary that

+the direction of a motion cannot be changed by any action, without an

+equal reaction in an opposite direction on something acting—if he bears

+in mind that this holds not only of all visible motions, celestial

+and terrestrial, but that those activities of Body which affect us as

+secondary properties, are also known only through other forms of {257}

+energy, which are equivalents of mechanical energy and conform to

+these same laws—and if, lastly, he infers that none of these derivative

+energies can have given to them their characters and directions,

+save by pre-existing forces, statical and dynamical, conditioned in

+special ways; what becomes of that “realm of Divine originality” which

+Mr. Martineau describes as remaining within the realm of necessity?

+Consistently carried out, his argument implies a universally-inevitable

+order, in which volition can have no such place as that he alleges.

+

+Not pushing Mr. Martineau’s reasoning to this conclusion, so entirely

+at variance with the one he draws, but accepting his statement just

+as it stands, let us consider the solution it offers us. We are left

+by it without any explanation of Space and Time; we are not helped

+in conceiving the origin of Matter; and there is afforded us no

+idea how Matter came to have its primary attributes. All these are

+tacitly assumed to exist uncreated. Creative activity is represented

+as under the restrictions imposed by mathematical necessities, and

+as having for _datum_ (mark the word) a substance which, in respect

+of certain characters, defies modification. But surely this is not

+an interpretation of the mystery of things. The mystery is simply

+relegated to a remoter region, respecting which no inquiry is to be

+made. But the inquiry _must_ be made. After every such solution there

+arises afresh the question—what is the origin and nature of that which

+imposes these limits on creative power? what is the primary God which

+dominates over this secondary God? For, clearly, if the “Omnipotent

+Architect himself” (to use Mr. Martineau’s somewhat inconsistent name)

+is powerless to change the “material datum objective” to him, and

+powerless to change the conditions under which it exists, and under

+which he works, there is obviously implied a power to which he is

+subject. So that in Mr. Martineau’s doctrine also, there is an Ultimate

+{258} Unknowable; and it differs from the doctrine he opposes, only by

+intercalating a partially Knowable between this and the wholly Knowable.

+

+Finding, as explained above, that this interpretation is not consistent

+with itself; and finding, as just shown, that it leaves the essential

+mystery unsolved; I do not see that it has an advantage over the

+doctrine of the Unknowable in its unqualified shape. There cannot,

+I think, be more than temporary rest in a proximate solution which

+takes for its basis the ultimately insoluble. Just as thought cannot

+be prevented from passing beyond Appearance, and trying to conceive

+the Cause behind; so, following out the interpretation Mr. Martineau

+offers, thought cannot be prevented from asking what Cause it is

+which restricts the Cause he assigns. And if we must admit that the

+question under this eventual form cannot be answered, may we not as

+well confess that the question under its immediate form cannot be

+answered? Is it not better candidly to acknowledge the incompetence of

+our intelligence, rather than to persist in calling that an explanation

+which does but disguise the inexplicable? Whatever answer each may

+give to this question, he cannot rightly blame those who, finding in

+themselves an indestructible consciousness of an ultimate Cause, whence

+proceed alike what we call the Material Universe and what we call Mind,

+refrain from affirming anything respecting it; because they find it as

+inscrutable in nature as it is inconceivable in extent and duration.

+

+

+POSTSCRIPT.—With the concluding paragraph of the foregoing article, I

+had hoped to end, for a long time, all controversial writing; and, if

+the article had been published entire in the November number of the

+_Fortnightly_, as originally intended, the need for any addition would

+not have been pressing. But while it was in the printer’s {259} hands,

+two criticisms, more elaborate than those dealt with above, made their

+appearance; and now that the postponed publication of this latter half

+of the article affords the opportunity, I cannot, without risking

+misinterpretations, leave these criticisms unnoticed.

+

+Especially do I feel called upon by courtesy to make some response

+to one who, in the _Quarterly Review_ for October, 1873, has dealt

+with me in a spirit which, though largely antagonistic, is not wholly

+unsympathetic; and who manifestly aims to estimate justly the views he

+opposes. In the space at my disposal, I cannot of course follow him

+through all the objections he has urged. I must content myself with

+brief comments on the two propositions he undertakes to establish. His

+enunciation of these runs thus:―

+

+ “We would especially direct attention to two points, to both of which

+ we are confident objections may be made; and although Mr. Spencer has

+ himself doubtless considered such objections (and they may well have

+ struck many of his readers also), we nevertheless do not observe that

+ he has anywhere noticed or provided for them.

+

+ “The two points we so select are:―

+

+ “(1) _That his system involves the denial of all truth._

+

+ “(2) _That it is radically and necessarily opposed to all sound

+ principles of morals._”

+

+On this passage, ending in these two startling assertions, let me

+first remark that I am wholly without this consciousness the reviewer

+ascribes to me. Remembering that I have expended some little labour in

+developing what I conceive to be a system of truths, I am surprised

+by the supposition that “the denial of all truth” is an implication

+which I am “doubtless” aware may be alleged against this system.

+Remembering, too, that by its programme this system is shown to close

+with two volumes on _The Principles of Morality_, the statement that it

+is “necessarily opposed to all sound principles of morals,” naturally

+astonishes me; and still more the statement that I am doubtless

+conscious it may be so regarded. Saying thus much by way of repudiating

+that latent scepticism {260} attributed to me by the reviewer, I

+proceed to consider what he says in proof of these propositions.

+

+On those seeming incongruities of Transfigured Realism commented on

+by him, I need say no more than I have already said in reply to Mr.

+Sidgwick; by whom also they have been alleged. I will limit myself

+to the corollary he draws from the doctrine of the Relativity of

+Knowledge, as held by me. Rightly pointing out that I hold this in

+common with “Messrs. Mill, Lewes, Bain, and Huxley;” but not adding, as

+he should have done, that I hold it in common with Hamilton, Mansel,

+and the long list of predecessors through whom Hamilton traced it;

+the reviewer proceeds to infer from this doctrine of relativity that

+no absolute truth of any kind can be asserted—not even the absolute

+truth of the doctrine of relativity itself. And then he leaves it to be

+supposed by his readers, that this inference tells especially against

+the system he is criticizing. If, however, the reviewer’s inference is

+valid, this “denial of all truth” must be charged against the doctrines

+of thinkers called orthodox, as well as against the doctrines of those

+many philosophers, from Aristotle down to Kant, who have said the same

+thing. But now I go further, and reply that against that form of the

+doctrine of relativity held by me, this allegation cannot be made with

+the same effect as it can against preceding forms of the doctrine. For

+I diverge from other relativists in asserting that the existence of a

+non-relative is not only a positive deliverance of consciousness, but a

+deliverance transcending in certainty all others whatever; and is one

+without which the doctrine of relativity cannot be framed in thought. I

+have urged that “unless a real Non-relative or Absolute be postulated,

+the Relative itself becomes absolute; and so brings the argument to a

+contradiction;”[28] and elsewhere I have described this consciousness

+of a Non-relative manifested to us through the Relative as {261}

+“deeper than demonstration—deeper even than definite cognition—deep

+as the very nature of mind;”[29] which seems to me to be saying as

+emphatically as possible that, while all other truths may be held as

+relative, this truth must be held as absolute. Yet, strangely enough,

+though contending thus against the pure relativists, and holding

+with the reviewer, that “every asserter of such a [purely-relative]

+philosophy must be in the position of a man who saws across the branch

+of a tree on which he actually sits, at a point between himself

+and the trunk,”[30] I am singled out by him as though this were my

+own predicament! So far, then, from admitting that the view I hold

+“involves the denial of all truth,” I assert that, having at the outset

+posited the co-existence of subject and object as a deliverance of

+consciousness which precedes all reasoning;[31] having subsequently

+shown, analytically, that this postulate is in every way verified,[32]

+and that in its absence the proof of relativity is impossible; my view

+is distinguished by an exactly-opposite trait.

+

+The justification of his second proposition the reviewer commences by

+saying that—“In the first place the process of Evolution, as understood

+by Mr. Spencer, compels him to be at one with Mr. Darwin in his denial

+of the existence of any fundamental and essential distinction between

+Duty and Pleasure.” Following this by a statement respecting the

+genesis of moral sentiments as understood by me (which is extremely

+unlike the one I have given in the _Principles of Psychology_, § 215,

+§§ 503–512, and §§ 524–532), the reviewer goes on to say that “We yield

+with much reluctance to the necessity of affirming that Mr. Spencer

+gives no evidence of ever having acquired a knowledge of the meaning of

+the term ‘morality,’ according to the true sense of the word.”

+

+Just noting that, as shown by the context, the assertion {262} thus

+made is made against all those who hold the Doctrine of Evolution in

+its unqualified form, I reply that in so far as it concerns me, it

+is one the reviewer would scarcely have made had he more carefully

+examined the evidence: not limiting himself to those works of mine

+named at the head of his article. And I cannot but think that had the

+spirit of fairness which he evidently strives to maintain, been fully

+awake when these passages were written, he would have seen that, before

+making so serious an allegation, wider inquiry was needful. If he had

+simply said that, given the doctrine of mental evolution as held by me,

+he failed to see how moral principles are to be established, I should

+not have objected; provided he had also said that I believe they can be

+established, and had pointed out what I hold to be their bases. As it

+is, however, he has so presented his own inference from my premises,

+as to make it seem an inference which I also must draw from my

+premises. Quite a different and much more secure foundation for moral

+principles is alleged by me, than that afforded by moral sentiments and

+conceptions; which he refers to as though they formed the sole basis of

+the ethical conclusions I hold. While the reviewer contends that “Mr.

+Spencer’s moral system is even yet more profoundly defective, as it

+denies any objective distinction between right and wrong in any being,

+whether men are or are not responsible for their actions;” I contend,

+contrariwise, that it is distinguished from other moral systems by

+asserting the objectivity of the distinction, and by endeavouring to

+show that the subjective distinction is derived from the objective

+distinction. In my first work, _Social Statics_, published twenty-three

+years ago, the essential thesis is that, apart from their warrant as

+alleged Divine injunctions, and apart from their authority as moral

+intuitions, the principles of justice are primarily deducible from the

+laws of life as carried on under social conditions. I argued throughout

+that these principles so derived have {263} a supreme authority, to

+which considerations of immediate expediency must yield; and I was for

+this reason classed by Mr. Mill as an anti-utilitarian. More recently,

+in a letter drawn from me by this misapprehension of Mr. Mill, and

+afterwards published by Professor Bain in his _Mental and Moral

+Science_, I have re-stated this position. Already, in an explanatory

+article entitled _Morals and Moral Sentiments_, published in the

+_Fortnightly Review_ for April, 1871, I have quoted passages from that

+letter; and here, considering the gravity of the assertions made by the

+_Quarterly_ reviewer, I hope to be excused for re-quoting them:―

+

+ “Morality, properly so called—the science of right conduct—has for

+ its object to determine _how_ and _why_ certain modes of conduct are

+ detrimental, and certain other modes beneficial. These good and bad

+ results cannot be accidental, but must be necessary consequences of

+ the constitution of things; and I conceive it to be the business of

+ Moral Science to deduce from the laws of life and the conditions

+ of existence, what kinds of action necessarily tend to produce

+ happiness, and what kinds to produce unhappiness. Having done this,

+ its deductions are to be recognized as laws of conduct; and are to

+ be conformed to irrespective of a direct estimation of happiness or

+ misery.”

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+ “If it is true that pure rectitude prescribes a system of things

+ far too good for men as they are, it is not less true that mere

+ expediency does not of itself tend to establish a system of things

+ any better than that which exists. While absolute morality owes to

+ expediency the checks which prevent it from rushing into Utopian

+ absurdities, expediency is indebted to absolute morality for all

+ stimulus to improvement. Granted that we are chiefly interested in

+ ascertaining what is _relatively right_, it still follows that we must

+ first consider what is _absolutely right_; since the one conception

+ presupposes the other.”

+

+And the comment I then made on these passages I may make now, that

+“I do not see how there could well be a more emphatic assertion that

+there exists a primary basis of morals independent of, and in a sense

+antecedent to, that which is furnished by experiences of utility; and

+consequently independent of, and in a sense antecedent to, those moral

+sentiments which I conceive to be generated by such experiences.” I

+will only add that, had my beliefs been directly opposite to those I

+have enunciated, {264} the reviewer might, I think, have found good

+reasons for his assertion. If, instead of demurring to the doctrine

+“that greatest happiness should be the _immediate_ aim of man,”[33] I

+had endorsed that doctrine—if, instead of explaining and justifying “a

+belief in the special sacredness of these highest principles, and a

+sense of the supreme authority of the altruistic sentiments answering

+to them,”[34] I had denied the sacredness and the supreme authority—if,

+instead of saying of the wise man that “the highest truth he sees he

+will fearlessly utter; knowing that, let what may come of it, he is

+thus playing his right part in the world,”[35] I had said that the wise

+man will _not_ do this; the reviewer might with truth have described me

+as not understanding “the term ‘morality’ according to the true sense

+of the word.” And he might then have inferred that the Doctrine of

+Evolution as I hold it, implies denial of the “distinction between Duty

+and Pleasure.” But as it is, I think the evidence will not generally be

+held to warrant his assertion.

+

+I quite agree with the reviewer that the prevalence of a philosophy

+“is no mere question of speculative interest, but is one of the

+highest practical importance.” I join him, too, in the belief that

+“calamitous social and political changes” may be the outcome of a

+mistaken philosophy. Moreover, writing as he does under the conviction

+that there can be no standard of right and wrong save one derived from

+a Revelation interpreted by an Infallible Authority, I can conceive

+the alarm with which he regards so radically opposed a system. Though

+I could have wished that the sense of justice he generally displays

+had prevented him from ignoring the evidence I have above given, I can

+understand how, from his point of view, the Doctrine of Evolution,

+as I understand it, “seems absolutely fatal {265} to every germ of

+morality,” and “entirely negatives every form of religion.” But I am

+unable to understand that modified Doctrine of Evolution which the

+reviewer hints at as an alternative. For, little as the reader would

+anticipate it after these expressions of profound dissent, the reviewer

+displays such an amount of agreement as to suggest that the system he

+is criticizing might be converted, “rapidly and without violence, into

+an ‘allotropic state,’ in which its conspicuous characters would be

+startlingly diverse from those that it exhibits at present.” May I,

+using a different figure, suggest a different transformation, having a

+subjective instead of an objective character? As in a stereoscope, the

+two views representing diverse aspects, often yield at first a jumble

+of conflicting impressions, but, after a time, suddenly combine into a

+single whole which stands out quite clearly; so, may it not be that the

+seemingly-inconsistent Idealism and Realism dwelt on by the reviewer,

+as well as the other seemingly-fundamental incongruities he is struck

+by, will, under more persistent contemplation, unite as complementary

+sides of the same thing?

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+My excuse for devoting some space to a criticism of so entirely

+different a kind as that contained in the _British Quarterly Review_

+for October, 1873, must be that, under the circumstances, I cannot let

+it pass unnoticed without seeming to admit its validity.

+

+Saying that my books should be dealt with by specialists, and tacitly

+announcing himself as an expert in Physics, the reviewer takes me to

+task both for errors in the statement of physical principles and for

+erroneous reasoning in physics. That he discovers no mistakes I do not

+say. It would be marvellous if in such a multitude of propositions,

+averaging a dozen per page, I had made all criticism-proof. Some

+are inadvertencies which I should have been obliged to the reviewer

+for pointing out as such, but which he prefers to {266} instance

+as proving my ignorance. In other cases, taking advantage of an

+imperfection of statement, he proceeds to instruct me about matters

+which either the context, or passages in the same volume, show to be

+quite familiar to me. Here is a sample of his criticisms belonging to

+this class:―

+

+ “Nor should we counsel a man to venture upon physical speculations

+ who converts the proposition ‘_heat is insensible motion_’ into

+ ‘_insensible motion is heat_,’ and hence concludes that when a force

+ is applied to a mass so large that no motion is seen to result from

+ it, or when, as in the case of sound, motion gets so dispersed that it

+ becomes insensible, it turns to heat.”

+

+Respecting the first of the two statements contained in this sentence,

+I will observe that the reader, if not misled by the quotation-marks

+into the supposition that I have made, in so many words, the assertion

+that “insensible motion is heat,” will at any rate infer that this

+assertion is distinctly involved in the passage named. And he will

+infer that the reviewer would never have charged me with such an absurd

+belief, if there was before him evidence proving that I have no such

+belief. What will the reader say, then, when he learns, not simply that

+there is no such statement, and not simply that on the page referred

+to, which I have ascertained to be the one intended, there is no such

+implication visible, even to an expert (and I have put the question to

+one); but when he further learns that in other passages, the fact that

+heat is one only of the modes of insensible motion is distinctly stated

+(see _First Prin_. §§ 66, 68, 171); and when he learns that elsewhere I

+have specified the several forms of insensible motion? If the reviewer,

+who looks so diligently for flaws as to search an essay in a volume he

+is not reviewing to find one term of an incongruity, had sought with

+equal diligence to learn what I thought about insensible motion, he

+would have found in the _Classification of the Sciences_, Table II.,

+that insensible motion is described by me as having the forms of Heat,

+Light, Electricity, Magnetism. Even had there been in {267} the place

+he names, an unquestionable implication of the belief which he ascribes

+to me, fairness might have led him to regard it as an oversight when

+he found it at variance with statements I have elsewhere made. What

+then is to be thought of him when, in the place named, no such belief

+is manifest; either to an ordinary reader or to a specially-instructed

+reader?

+

+No less significant is the state of mind betrayed in the second clause

+of the reviewer’s sentence. By representing me as saying that when

+the motion constituting sound “gets so dispersed that it becomes

+insensible, it turns to heat,” does he intend to represent me as

+thinking that when sound-undulations become too weak to be audible,

+they become heat-undulations? If so, I reply that the passage he refers

+to has no such meaning. Does he then allege that some part of the force

+diffused in sound-waves is expended in generating electricity, by

+the friction of heterogeneous substances (which, however, eventually

+lapses from this special form of molecular motion in that general

+form constituting heat); and that I ought to have thus qualified my

+statement? If so, he would have had me commit a piece of scientific

+pedantry hindering the argument. If he does not mean either of these

+things, what does he mean? Does he contest the truth of the hypothesis

+which enabled Laplace to correct Newton’s estimate of the velocity

+of sound—the hypothesis that heat is evolved by the compression each

+sound-wave produces in the air? Does he deny that the heat so generated

+is at the expense of so much wave-motion lost? Does he question the

+inference that some of the motion embodied in each wave is from instant

+to instant dissipated, partly in this way and partly in the heat

+evolved by fluid friction? Can he show any reason for doubting that

+when the sound-waves have become too feeble to affect our senses, their

+motion still continues to undergo this transformation and diminution

+until it is all lost? If not, why does he implicitly deny that {268}

+the molar motion constituting sound, eventually disappears in

+producing the molecular motion constituting heat?[36]

+

+I will dwell no longer on the exclusively-personal questions raised

+by the reviewer’s statements; but, leaving the reader to judge of the

+rest of my “stupendous mistakes” by the one I have dealt with, I will

+turn to a question worthy to occupy some space, as having an impersonal

+interest—the question, namely, respecting the nature of the warrant we

+have for asserting ultimate physical truths. The contempt which, as a

+physicist, the reviewer expresses for the metaphysical exploration of

+physical ideas, I will pass over with the remark that every physical

+question, probed to the bottom, opens into a metaphysical one; and that

+I should have thought the controversy now going on among chemists,

+respecting the legitimacy of the atomic hypothesis, might have

+shown him as much. On his erroneous statement that I use the phrase

+“Persistence of Force” as an equivalent for the now-generally-accepted

+phrase “Conservation of Energy,” I will observe only that, had he not

+been in so great a hurry to find inconsistencies, he would have seen

+why, for the purposes of my argument, {269} I intentionally use the

+word Force: Force being the generic word, including both that species

+known as Energy, and that species by which Matter occupies space and

+maintains its integrity—a species which, whatever may be its relation

+to Energy, and however clearly recognized as a necessary _datum_ by

+the theory of Energy, is not otherwise considered in that theory. I

+will confine myself to the proposition, disputed at great length by the

+reviewer, that our cognition of the Persistence of Force is _a priori_.

+He relies much on the authority of Professor Tait, whom he twice quotes

+to the effect that―

+

+ “Natural philosophy is an experimental, and not an intuitive science.

+ No _à priori_ reasoning can conduct us demonstratively to a single

+ physical truth.”

+

+Were I to take a hypercritical attitude, I might dwell on the fact that

+Professor Tait leaves the extent of his proposition somewhat doubtful,

+by speaking of “Natural philosophy” as _one_ science. Were I to follow

+further the reviewer’s example, I might point out that “Natural

+philosophy,” in that Newtonian acceptation adopted by Professor

+Tait, includes Astronomy; and, going on to ask what astronomical

+“experiments” those are which conduct us to astronomical truths, I

+might then “counsel” the reviewer not to depend on the authority of one

+who (to use the reviewer’s polite language) “blunders” by confounding

+experiment and observation. I will not, however, thus infer from

+Professor Tait’s imperfection of statement that he is unaware of the

+difference between the two; and shall rate his authority as of no less

+value than I should, had he been more accurate in his expression.

+Respecting that authority I shall simply remark that, if the question

+had to be settled by the authority of any physicist, the authority of

+Mayer, who is diametrically opposed to Prof. Tait on this point, and

+who has been specially honoured, both by the Royal Society and by the

+French Institute, might well counter-weigh his, if not out-weigh it.

+I am not aware, {270} however, that the question is one in Physics.

+It seems to me a question respecting the nature of proof. And, without

+doubting Professor Tait’s competence in Logic and Psychology, I should

+decline to abide by his judgment on such a question, even were there no

+opposite judgment given by a physicist, certainly of not less eminence.

+

+Authority aside, however, let us discuss the matter on its merits.

+In the _Treatise on Natural Philosophy_, by Profs. Thomson and Tait,

+§ 243 (1st ed.), I read that “as we shall show in our chapter on

+‘Experience,’ physical axioms are axiomatic to those only who have

+sufficient knowledge of the action of physical causes to enable them

+to see at once their necessary truth.” In this I agree entirely.

+It is in Physics, as it is in Mathematics, that before necessary

+truths can be grasped, there must be gained by individual experience,

+such familiarity with the elements of the thoughts to be framed,

+that propositions about those elements may be mentally represented

+with distinctness. Tell a child that things which are equal to

+the same thing are equal to one another, and the child, lacking a

+sufficiently-abstract notion of equality, and lacking, too, the

+needful practice in comparing relations, will fail to grasp the axiom.

+Similarly, a rustic, never having thought much about forces and their

+results, cannot form a definite conception answering to the axiom that

+action and reaction are equal and opposite. In the last case as in

+the first, ideas of the terms and their relations require to be made,

+by practice in thinking, so vivid that the involved truths may be

+mentally seen. But when the individual experiences have been multiplied

+enough to produce distinctness in the representations of the elements

+dealt with; then, in the one case as in the other, those mental forms

+generated by ancestral experiences, cannot be occupied by the elements

+of one of these ultimate truths without perception of its necessity.

+If Professor Tait does not admit this, what {271} does he mean by

+speaking of “physical _axioms_,” and by saying that the cultured are

+enabled “to see _at once_ their _necessary_ truth?”

+

+Again, if there are no physical truths which must be classed as _a

+priori_, I ask why Professor Tait joins Sir W. Thomson in accepting

+as bases for Physics, Newton’s Laws of Motion? Though Newton gives

+illustrations of prolonged motion in bodies that are little resisted,

+he gives no _proof_ that a body in motion will continue moving, if

+uninterfered with, in the same direction at the same velocity; nor,

+on turning to the enunciation of this law quoted in the above-named

+work, do I find that Professor Tait does more than exemplify it by

+facts which can themselves be asserted only by taking the law for

+granted. Does Professor Tait deny that the first law of motion is a

+physical truth? If so, what does he call it? Does he admit it to be

+a physical truth, and, denying that it is _a priori_, assert that it

+is established _a posteriori_—that is, by conscious induction from

+observation and experiment? If so, what is the inductive reasoning

+which can establish it? Let us glance at the several conceivable

+arguments which we must suppose him to rely on.

+

+A body set in motion soon ceases to move if it encounters much

+friction, or much resistance from the bodies struck. If less of its

+energy is expended in moving, or otherwise affecting, other bodies, or

+in overcoming friction, its motion continues longer. And it continues

+longest when, as over smooth ice, it meets with the smallest amount

+of obstruction. May we then, proceeding by the method of concomitant

+variations, infer that were it wholly unobstructed its motion would

+continue undiminished? If so, we assume that the diminution of its

+motion observed in experience, is proportionate to the amount of

+energy abstracted from it in producing other motion, either molar or

+molecular. We assume that no variation has taken place in its rate,

+save that caused by deductions in moving other matter; for if {272}

+its motion be supposed to have otherwise varied, the conclusion that

+the differences in the distances travelled result from differences

+in the obstructions met with, is vitiated. Thus the truth to be

+established is already taken for granted in the premises. Nor is the

+question begged in this way only. In every case where it is remarked

+that a body stops the sooner, the more it is obstructed by other bodies

+or media, the law of inertia is assumed to hold in the obstructing

+bodies or media. The very conception of greater or less retardation

+so caused, implies the belief that there can be no retardations

+without proportionate retarding causes; which is itself the assumption

+otherwise expressed in the first law of motion.

+

+Again, let us suppose that instead of inexact observations made on the

+movements occurring in daily experience, we make exact experiments on

+movements specially arranged to yield measured results; what is the

+postulate underlying every experiment? Uniform velocity is defined as

+motion through equal spaces in equal times. How do we measure equal

+times? By an instrument which can be inferred to mark equal times

+only if the oscillations of the pendulum are isochronous; which they

+can be proved to be only if the first and second laws of motion are

+granted. That is to say, the proposed experimental proof of the first

+law, assumes not only the truth of the first law, but of that which

+Professor Tait agrees with Newton in regarding as a second law. Is it

+said that the ultimate time-measure referred to is the motion of the

+Earth round its axis, through equal angles in equal times? Then the

+obvious rejoinder is that the assertion of this, similarly involves an

+assertion of the truth to be proved; since the undiminished rotatory

+movement of the Earth is itself a corollary from the first law of

+motion. Is it alleged that this axial movement of the Earth through

+equal angles in equal times, is ascertainable by reference to the

+stars? I answer that a developed system of Astronomy, leading through

+complex {273} reasonings to the conclusion that the Earth rotates, is,

+in that case, supposed to be needful before there can be established

+a law of motion which this system of Astronomy itself postulates. For

+even should it be said that the Newtonian theory of the Solar System is

+not necessarily pre-supposed, but only the Copernican; still, the proof

+of this assumes that a body at rest (a star being taken as such) will

+continue at rest; which is a part of the first law of motion, regarded

+by Newton as not more self-evident than the remaining part.

+

+Not a little remarkable, indeed, is the oversight made by Professor

+Tait, in asserting that “no _a priori_ reasoning can conduct us

+demonstratively to a single physical truth,” when he has before him

+the fact that the system of physical truths constituting Newton’s

+_Principia_, which he has joined Sir William Thomson in editing, is

+established by _a priori_ reasoning. That there can be no change

+without a cause, or, in the words of Mayer, that “a force cannot become

+nothing, and just as little can a force be produced from nothing,” is

+that ultimate dictum of consciousness on which all physical science

+rests. It is involved alike in the assertion that a body at rest will

+continue at rest, in the assertion that a body in motion must continue

+to move at the same velocity in the same line if no force acts on it,

+and in the assertion that any divergent motion given to it must be

+proportionate to the deflecting force; and it is also involved in the

+axiom that action and reaction are equal and opposite.

+

+The reviewer’s doctrine, in support of which he cites against me the

+authority of Professor Tait, illustrates in Physics that same error

+of the inductive philosophy which, in Metaphysics, I have pointed out

+elsewhere (_Principles of Psychology_, Part VII.). It is a doctrine

+implying that we can go on for ever asking the proof of the proof,

+without finally coming to any deepest cognition which is unproved

+and unprovable. That this is an untenable doctrine, I need {274}

+not say more to show. Nor, indeed, would saying more to show it be

+likely to have any effect, in so far at least as the reviewer is

+concerned; seeing that he thinks I am “ignorant of the very nature of

+the principles” of which I am speaking, and seeing that my notions of

+scientific reasoning “remind” him “of the Ptolemists,” who argued that

+the heavenly bodies must move in circles because the circle is the most

+perfect figure.[37]

+

+Not to try the reader’s patience further, I will end by pointing out

+that, even were the reviewer’s criticisms all valid, they would leave

+unshaken the theory he contends against. Though one of his sentences

+(p. 480) raises the expectation that he is about to assault, and

+greatly to damage, the bases of the system contained in the second part

+of _First Principles_, yet all those propositions which constitute the

+bases, he leaves, not only uninjured, but even untouched,—contenting

+himself with trying to show (with what success we have seen) that the

+fundamental one is an _a posteriori_ truth and not an _a priori_ truth.

+Against the general Doctrine of Evolution, considered as an induction

+from all classes of concrete phenomena, he utters not a word; nor does

+he utter a word to disprove any one of those laws of the redistribution

+of matter and motion, by {275} which the process of Evolution is

+deductively interpreted. Respecting the law of the Instability of

+the Homogeneous, he says no more than to quarrel with one of the

+illustrations. He makes no criticism on the law of the Multiplication

+of Effects. The law of Segregation he does not even mention. Nor does

+he mention the law of Equilibration. Further, he urges nothing against

+the statement that these general laws are severally deducible from the

+ultimate law of the Persistence of Force. Lastly, he does not deny the

+Persistence of Force; but only differs respecting the nature of our

+warrant for asserting it. Beyond pointing out, here a cracked brick and

+there a quoin set askew, he merely makes a futile attempt to show that

+the foundation is not natural rock, but concrete.

+

+From his objections I may, indeed, derive much satisfaction. That a

+competent critic, obviously anxious to do all the mischief he can, and

+not over-scrupulous about the means he uses, has done so little, may be

+taken as evidence that the fabric of conclusions attacked will not be

+readily overthrown.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+In the _British Quarterly Review_ for January, 1874, the writer of the

+article I have dealt with above, makes a rejoinder. It is of the kind

+which might have been anticipated. There are men to whom the discovery

+that they have done injustice is painful. After proof of having wrongly

+ascribed to another such a nonsensical belief as that insensible

+motion is heat because heat is insensible motion, some would express

+regret. Not so my reviewer. Having by forced interpretations debited

+me with an absurdity, he makes no apology; but, with an air implying

+that he had all along done this, he attacks the allegation I had

+really made—an allegation which is at least so far from an absurdity,

+that he describes it only as not justified by “the present state

+of science.” And here, having incidentally referred to this point,

+I may as well, before {276} proceeding, deal with his substituted

+charge at the same time that I further exemplify his method. Probably

+most of those who see the _British Quarterly_, will be favourably

+impressed by the confidence of his assertion; but those who compare

+my statement with his travesty of it, and who compare both with some

+authoritative exposition, will be otherwise impressed. To his statement

+that I conclude “that friction must ultimately transform _all_ [the

+italics are his] the energy of a sound into heat,” I reply that it is

+glaringly untrue: I have named friction as a second cause only. And

+when he pooh-poohs the effect of compression because it is “merely

+momentary,” is he aware of the meaning of his words? Will he deny that,

+from first to last, during the interval of condensation, heat is being

+generated? Will he deny to the air the power of radiating such heat? He

+will not venture to do so. Take then the interval of condensation as

+one-thousandth of a second. I ask him to inform those whom he professes

+to instruct, what is the probable number of heat-waves which have

+escaped in this interval. Must they not be numbered by thousands of

+millions? In fact, by his “merely momentary,” he actually assumes that

+what is momentary in relation to our time-measures, is momentary in

+relation to the escape of ethereal undulations!

+

+Let me now proceed more systematically, and examine his rejoinder point

+by point. It sets out thus:―

+

+ “In the notice of Mr. Spencer’s works that appeared in the last number

+ of this _Review_, we had occasion to point out that he held mistaken

+ notions of the most fundamental generalizations of dynamics; that he

+ had shown an ignorance of the nature of proof in his treatment of the

+ Newtonian Law; that he had used phrases such as the Persistence of

+ Force in various and inconsistent significations; and more especially

+ that he had put forth proofs logically faulty in his endeavour to

+ demonstrate certain physical propositions by _à priori_ methods, and

+ to show that such proofs must exist. To this article Mr. Spencer has

+ replied in the December number of the _Fortnightly Review_. His reply

+ leaves every one of the above positions unassailed.”

+

+In my “Replies to Criticisms,” which, as it was, trespassed unduly on

+the pages of the _Fortnightly Review_, I singled {277} out from those

+of his allegations which touched me personally, one that might be

+briefly dealt with as an example; and I stated that, passing over other

+personal questions, as not interesting to the general reader, I should

+devote the small space available to an impersonal one. Notwithstanding

+this, the reviewer, in the foregoing paragraph, enumerates his chief

+positions; asserts that I have not assailed any of them (which is

+untrue); and then leads his readers to the belief that I have not

+assailed them because they are unassailable.

+

+Leaving this misbelief to be dealt with presently, I continue my

+comments on his rejoinder. After referring to the passage I have quoted

+from Prof. Tait’s statement about physical axioms, and after indicating

+the nature of my criticism, the reviewer says:―

+

+ “Had Mr. Spencer, however, read the sentence that follows it, we

+ doubt whether we should have heard aught of this quotation. It is

+ ‘Without further remark we shall give Newton’s Three Laws; it being

+ remembered that as the properties of matter might have been such as

+ to render a totally different set of laws axiomatic, _these laws must

+ be considered as resting on convictions drawn from observation and

+ experiment and not on intuitive perception_.’ This not only shows that

+ the term ‘axiomatic’ is used in the previous sentence in a sense that

+ does not exclude an inductive origin, but it leaves us indebted to

+ Mr. Spencer for the discovery of the clearest and most authoritative

+ expression of disapproval of his views respecting the nature of the

+ Laws of Motion.”

+

+Let us analyze this “authoritative expression.” It contains several

+startling implications, the disclosure of which the reader will find

+not uninteresting. Consider, first, what is implied by framing the

+thought that “the properties of matter might have been such as to

+render a totally different set of laws axiomatic.” I will not stop to

+make the inquiry whether matter having properties fundamentally unlike

+its present ones, can be conceived; though such an inquiry, leading

+to the conclusion that no conception of the kind is possible, would

+show that the proposition is merely a verbal one. It will suffice if

+I examine the nature of this proposition that “the properties of

+matter _might have been_” {278} other than they are. Does it express

+an experimentally-ascertained truth? If so, I invite Prof. Tait to

+describe the experiments. Is it an intuition? If so, then along with

+doubt of an intuitive belief concerning things _as they are_, there

+goes confidence in an intuitive belief concerning things _as they are

+not_. Is it an hypothesis? If so, the implication is that a cognition

+of which the negation is inconceivable (for an axiom is such) may be

+discredited by inference from that which is not a cognition at all,

+but simply a supposition. Does the reviewer admit that no conclusion

+can have a validity greater than is possessed by its premises? or

+will he say that the trustworthiness of cognitions increases in

+proportion as they are the more inferential? Be his answer what it

+may, I shall take it as unquestionable that nothing concluded can

+have a warrant higher than that from which it is concluded, though

+it may have a lower. Now the elements of the proposition before us

+are these:—_As_ “the properties of matter might have been such as

+to render a totally different set of laws axiomatic” [_therefore_]

+“these laws [now in force] must be considered as resting . . . not on

+intuitive perception:” that is, the intuitions in which these laws

+are recognized, must not be held authoritative. Here the cognition

+posited as premiss, is that the properties of matter might have been

+other than they are; and the conclusion is that our intuitions relative

+to existing properties are uncertain. Hence, if this conclusion is

+valid, it is valid because the cognition or intuition respecting

+what might have been, is more trustworthy than the cognition or

+intuition respecting what is! Scepticism respecting the deliverances

+of consciousness about things as they are, is based upon faith in a

+deliverance of consciousness about things as they are not!

+

+I go on to remark that this “authoritative expression of disapproval”

+by which I am supposed to be silenced, even were its allegation as

+valid as it is fallacious, would leave {279} wholly untouched the real

+issue. I pointed out how Prof. Tait’s denial that any physical truths

+could be reached _a priori_, was contradicted by his own statement

+respecting physical axioms. The question thus raised the reviewer

+evades, and substitutes another with which I have just dealt. Now I

+bring forward again the evaded question.

+

+In the passage I quoted, Prof. Tait, besides speaking of physical

+“_axioms_,” says of them that due familiarity with physical phenomena

+gives the power of seeing “_at once_” “their _necessary_ truth.” These

+last words, which express his conception of an axiom, express also the

+usual conception. An axiom is defined as a “self-evident truth,” or a

+truth that is seen _at once_; and the definition otherwise worded is—a

+“truth so evident _at first sight_, that no process of reasoning or

+demonstration can make it plainer.” Now I contend that Prof. Tait, by

+thus committing himself to a definition of physical axioms identical

+with that which is given of mathematical axioms, tacitly admits that

+they have the same _a priori_ character; and I further contend that no

+such nature as that which he describes physical axioms to have, can be

+acquired by experiment or observation during the life of an individual.

+Axioms, if defined as truths of which the _necessity_ is at once seen,

+are thereby defined as truths of which the negation is inconceivable;

+and the familiar contrast between them and the truths established by

+individual experiences, is that these last never become such that their

+negations are inconceivable, however multitudinous the experiences may

+be. Thousands of times has the sportsman heard the report that follows

+the flash from his gun, but still he can imagine the flash as occurring

+silently; and countless daily experiments on the burning of coal, leave

+him able to conceive coal as remaining in the fire without ignition.

+So that the “convictions drawn from observation and experiment” during

+a single life, can never acquire that character which Prof. Tait

+admits physical axioms to have: in other words, physical axioms cannot

+be {280} derived from personal observation and experiment. Thus,

+otherwise applying the reviewer’s words, I “doubt whether we should

+have heard aught of this quotation” to which he calls my attention,

+had he studied the matter more closely; and he “leaves us indebted to”

+him “for the discovery of” a passage which serves to make clearer the

+untenability of the doctrine he so dogmatically affirms.

+

+I turn now to what the reviewer says concerning the special arguments

+I used to show that the first law of motion cannot be proved

+experimentally. After a bare enunciation of my positions, he says:―

+

+ “On the utterly erroneous character of these statements we do not

+ care to dwell, we wish simply to call our reader’s attention to the

+ conclusion arrived at. Is that a disproof of the possibility of an

+ inductive proof? We thought that every tolerably educated man was

+ aware that the proof of a scientific law _consisted in_ showing that

+ _by_ assuming its truth, we could explain the observed phenomena.”

+

+Probably the reviewer expects his readers to conclude that he could

+easily dispose of the statements referred to if he tried. Among

+scientific men, however, this cavalier passing over of my arguments

+will perhaps be ascribed to another cause. I will give him my reason

+for saying this. Those arguments, read in proof by one of the most

+eminent physicists, and by a specially-honoured mathematician,

+had their entire concurrence; and I have since had from another

+mathematician, standing among the very first, such qualified agreement

+as is implied in saying that the first law of motion cannot be

+proved by terrestrial observations (which is in large measure what

+I undertook to show in the paragraphs which the reviewer passes

+over so contemptuously). But his last sentence, telling us what he

+thought “every tolerably educated man was aware” of, is the one which

+chiefly demands attention. In it he uses the word _law_—a word which,

+conveniently wide in meaning, suits his purpose remarkably well. But

+we are here speaking of physical _axioms_. The question is whether

+the justification of a physical {281} axiom consists in showing that

+by assuming its truth, we can explain the observed phenomena. If it

+does, then all distinction between hypothesis and axiom disappears.

+Mathematical axioms, for which there is no other definition than

+that which Prof. Tait gives of physical axioms, must stand on the

+same footing. Henceforth we must hold that our warrant for asserting

+that “things which are equal to the same thing are equal to one

+another,” consists in the observed truth of the geometrical and other

+propositions deducible from it and the associated axioms—the _observed_

+truth, mind; for the fabric of deductions yields none of the required

+warrant until these deductions have been tested by measurement. When we

+have described squares on the three sides of a right-angled triangle,

+cut them out in paper, and, by weighing them, have found that the one

+on the hypothenuse balances the other two; then we have got a fact

+which, joined with other facts similarly ascertained, justifies us in

+asserting that things which are equal to the same thing are equal to

+one another! Even as it stands, this implication will not, I think, be

+readily accepted; but we shall find that its unacceptability becomes

+still more conspicuous when the analysis is pursued to the end.

+

+Continuing his argument to show that the laws of motion have no _a

+priori_ warrant, the reviewer says:―

+

+ “Mr. Spencer asserts that Newton gave no proof of the Laws of Motion.

+ The whole of the _Principia_ was the proof, and the fact that, taken

+ as a system, these laws account for the lunar and planetary motions,

+ is the warrant on which they chiefly rest to this day.”

+

+I have first to point out that here, as before, the reviewer escapes

+by raising a new issue. I did not ask what he thinks about the

+_Principia_, and the proof of the laws of motion by it; nor did I ask

+whether others at this day, hold the assertion of these laws to be

+justified mainly by the evidence the Solar System affords. I asked what

+Newton thought. The reviewer had represented the belief that the second

+law of motion is knowable _a priori_, as too {282} absurd even for

+me openly to enunciate. I pointed out that since Newton enunciates it

+openly under the title of an axiom, and offers no proof whatever of it,

+he did explicitly what I am blamed for doing implicitly. And thereupon

+I invited the reviewer to say what he thought of Newton. Instead of

+answering, he gives me his opinion to the effect that the laws of

+motion are proved true by the truth of the _Principia_ deduced from

+them. Of this hereafter. My present purpose is to show that Newton did

+not say this, and gave every indication of thinking the contrary. He

+does not call the laws of motion “hypotheses;” he calls them “axioms.”

+He does not say that he assumes them to be true _provisionally_; and

+that the warrant for accepting them as actually true, will be found in

+the astronomically-proved truth of the deductions. He lays them down

+just as mathematical axioms are laid down—posits them as truths to be

+accepted _a priori_, from which follow consequences that must therefore

+be accepted. And though the reviewer thinks this an untenable position,

+I am quite content to range myself with Newton in thinking it a tenable

+one—if, indeed, I may say so without undervaluing the reviewer’s

+judgment. But now, having shown that the reviewer evaded the issue I

+raised, which it was inconvenient for him to meet, I pass to the issue

+he substitutes for it. I will first deal with it after the methods of

+ordinary logic, before dealing with it after the methods of what may be

+called transcendental logic.

+

+To establish the truth of a proposition postulated, by showing that

+the deductions from it are true, requires that the truth of the

+deductions shall be shown in some way that does not directly or

+indirectly assume the truth of the proposition postulated. If, setting

+out with the axioms of Euclid, we deduce the truths that “the angle

+in a semi-circle is a right angle,” and that “the opposite angles of

+any quadrilateral figure described in a circle, are together equal

+to two right angles,” and so forth; and if, because {283} these

+propositions are true, we say that the axioms are true, we are guilty

+of a _petitio principii_. I do not mean simply that if these various

+propositions are taken as true on the strength of the demonstrations

+given, the reasoning is circular, because the demonstrations assume the

+axioms; but I mean more—I mean that any supposed _experimental_ proof

+of these propositions by measurement, itself assumes the axioms to be

+justified. For even when the supposed experimental proof consists in

+showing that some two lines demonstrated by reason to be equal, are

+equal when tested in perception, the axiom that things which are equal

+to the same thing are equal to one another, is taken for granted. The

+equality of the two lines can be ascertained only by carrying from

+the one to the other, some measure (either a moveable marked line

+or the space between the points of compasses), and by assuming that

+the two lines are equal to one another, because they are severally

+equal to this measure. The ultimate truths of mathematics, then,

+cannot be established by any experimental proof that the deductions

+from them are true; since the supposed experimental proof takes them

+for granted. The same thing holds of ultimate physical truths. For

+the alleged _a posteriori_ proof of these truths, has a vice exactly

+analogous to the vice I have just indicated. Every evidence yielded

+by astronomy that the axioms called “the laws of motion” are true,

+resolves itself into a fulfilled prevision that some celestial body or

+bodies, will be seen in a specified place, or in specified places, in

+the heavens, at some assigned time. Now the day, hour, and minute of

+this verifying observation, can be fixed only on the assumption that

+the Earth’s motion in its orbit and its motion round its axis, continue

+undiminished. Mark, then, the parallelism. One who chose to deny that

+things which are equal to the same thing are equal to one another,

+could never have it proved to him by showing the truth of deduced

+propositions; since the testing process would in {284} every case

+assume that which he denied. Similarly, one who refused to admit that

+motion, uninterfered with, continues in the same straight line at the

+same velocity, could not have it proved to him by the fulfilment of an

+astronomical prediction; because he would say that both the spectator’s

+position in space, and the position of the event in time, were those

+alleged, only if the Earth’s motions of translation and rotation

+were undiminished, which was the very thing he called in question.

+Evidently such a sceptic might object that the seeming fulfilment of

+the prediction, say a transit of Venus, may be effected by various

+combinations of the changing positions of Venus, of the Earth, and of

+the spectator on the Earth. The appearances may occur as anticipated,

+though Venus is at some other place than the calculated one; provided

+the Earth also is at some other place, and the spectator’s position on

+the Earth is different. And if the first law of motion is not assumed,

+it must be admitted that the Earth and the spectator _may_ occupy these

+other places at the predicted time: supposing that in the absence of

+the first law, this predicted time can be ascertained, which it cannot.

+Thus the testing process inevitably begs the question.

+

+That the perfect congruity of all astronomical observations with all

+deductions from “the laws of motion,” gives coherence to this group

+of intuitions and perceptions, and so furnishes a warrant for the

+entire aggregate of them which it would not have were any of them at

+variance, is unquestionable. But it does not therefore follow that

+astronomical observations can furnish a test for _each individual

+assumption_, out of the many which are simultaneously made. I will not

+dwell on the fact that the process of verification assumes the validity

+of the assumptions on which acts of reasoning proceed; for the reply

+may be that these are shown to be valid apart from astronomy. Nor will

+I insist that the assumptions underlying mathematical inferences,

+geometrical and {285} numerical, are involved; since it may be said

+that these are justifiable separately by our terrestrial experiences.

+But, passing over all else that is taken for granted, it suffices to

+point out that, in making every astronomical prediction, the three

+laws of motion and the law of gravitation are _all_ assumed; that if

+the first law of motion is to be held proved by the fulfilment of

+the prediction, it can be so only by taking for granted that the two

+other laws of motion and the law of gravitation are true; and that

+non-fulfilment of the prediction would not disprove the first law of

+motion, since the error might be in one or other of the three remaining

+assumptions. Similarly with the second law: the astronomical proof of

+it depends on the truth of the accompanying assumptions. So that the

+warrants for the assumptions A, B, C, and D, are respectively such

+that A, B, and C being taken as trustworthy, prove the validity of D;

+D being thus proved valid, joins C, and B, in giving a character to

+A; and so throughout. The result is that everything comes out right

+if they happen to be all true; but if one of them is false, it may

+destroy the characters of the other three, though these are in reality

+exact. Clearly, then, astronomical prediction and observation can never

+test any one of the premises by itself. They can only justify the

+entire aggregate of premises, mathematical and physical, joined with

+the entire aggregate of reasoning processes leading from premises to

+conclusions.

+

+I now recall the reviewer’s “thought,” uttered in his habitual manner,

+“that every tolerably educated man was aware that the proof of a

+scientific law _consisted in_ showing that _by_ assuming its truth,

+we could explain the observed phenomena.” Having from the point of

+view of ordinary logic dealt with this theory of proof as applied by

+the reviewer, I proceed to deal with it from the point of view of

+transcendental logic, as I have myself applied it. And here I have to

+charge the reviewer with either being ignorant of, or else deliberately

+ignoring, a cardinal {286} doctrine of the System of Philosophy he

+professes to review—a doctrine set forth not in those four volumes of

+it which he seems never to have looked into; but in the one volume of

+it he has partially dealt with. For this principle which, in respect

+to scientific belief, he enunciates for my instruction, is one which,

+in _First Principles_, I have enunciated in respect to all beliefs

+whatever. In the chapter on the “Data of Philosophy,” where I have

+inquired into the legitimacy of our modes of procedure, and where I

+have pointed out that there are certain ultimate conceptions without

+which the intellect can no more stir “than the body can stir without

+help of its limbs,” I have inquired how their validity or invalidity is

+to be shown; and I have gone on to reply that―

+

+ “Those of them which are vital, or cannot be severed from the rest

+ without mental dissolution, must be assumed as true _provisionally_

+ . . . . leaving the assumption of their unquestionableness to be

+ justified by the results.

+

+ Ҥ 40. How is it to be justified by the results? As any other

+ assumption is justified—by ascertaining that all the conclusions

+ deducible from it, correspond with the facts as directly observed—by

+ showing the agreement between the experiences it leads us to

+ anticipate, and the actual experiences. There is no mode of

+ establishing the validity of any belief, except that of showing its

+ entire congruity with all other beliefs.”

+

+Proceeding avowedly and rigorously on this principle, I have next

+inquired what is the fundamental _process_ of thought by which this

+congruity is to be determined, and what is the fundamental _product_ of

+thought yielded by this process. This fundamental product I have shown

+to be the coexistence of subject and object; and then, describing this

+as a postulate to be justified by “its subsequently-proved congruity

+with every result of experience, direct and indirect,” I have gone on

+to say that “the two divisions of self and not-self, are re-divisible

+into certain most general forms, the reality of which Science, as

+well as Common Sense, from moment to moment assumes.” Nor is this

+all. Having thus assumed, _only provisionally_, this deepest of all

+intuitions, far transcending an axiom in self-evidence, I {287} have,

+after drawing deductions occupying four volumes, deliberately gone

+back to the assumption (_Prin. of Psy.,_ § 386). After quoting the

+passage in which the principle was laid down, and after reminding the

+reader that the deductions drawn had been found congruous with one

+another; I have pointed out that it still remained to ascertain whether

+this primordial assumption was congruous with all the deductions;

+and have thereupon proceeded, throughout eighteen chapters, to show

+the congruity. And yet having before him the volumes in which this

+principle is set forth with a distinctness, and acted upon with a

+deliberation, which I believe are nowhere paralleled, the reviewer

+enunciates for my benefit this principle of which he “thought that

+every tolerably educated man was aware”! He enunciates it as applying

+to limited groups of beliefs, to which it does not apply; and shuts his

+eyes to the fact that I have avowedly and systematically acted upon it

+in respect to the entire aggregate of our beliefs (axioms included) for

+which it furnishes the ultimate justification!

+

+Here I must add another elucidatory statement, which would have been

+needless had the reviewer read that which he criticizes. His argument

+proceeds throughout on the assumption that I understand _a priori_

+truths after the ancient manner, as truths independent of experience;

+and he shows this more tacitly, where he “trusts” that he is “attacking

+one of the last attempts to deduce the laws of nature from our inner

+consciousness.” Manifestly, a leading thesis of one of the works

+he professes to review, is entirely unknown to him—the thesis that

+forms of thought, and consequently the intuitions which those forms

+of thought involve, result entirely from the effects of experiences,

+organized and inherited. With the _Principles of Psychology_ before

+him, not only does he seem unaware that it contains this doctrine, but

+though this doctrine, set forth in its first edition published nearly

+twenty years ago, has gained {288} considerable currency, he seems

+never to have heard of it. The implication of this doctrine is, not

+that the “laws of nature” are deducible from “our inner consciousness,”

+but that our consciousness has a pre-established correspondence

+with such of those laws (simple, perpetually presented, and never

+negatived) as have, in the course of practically-infinite ancestral

+experiences, registered themselves in our nervous structure. Had he

+taken the trouble to acquaint himself with this doctrine, he would

+have learned that the intuitions of axiomatic truths are regarded by

+me as latent in the inherited brain, just as bodily reflex actions are

+latent in the inherited nervous centres of a lower order; that such

+latent intuitions are made potentially more distinct by the greater

+definiteness of structure due to individual action and culture; and

+that thus, axiomatic truths, having a warrant entirely _a posteriori_

+for the race, have for the individual a warrant which, substantially

+_a priori_, is made complete _a posteriori_. And he would then have

+learned that as, during evolution, Thought has been moulded into

+increasing correspondence with Things; and as such correspondence,

+tolerably complete in respect of the simple, ever-present, and

+invariable relations, as those of space, has made considerable advance

+in respect of the primary dynamical relations; the assertion that

+the resulting intuitions are authoritative, is the assertion that

+the simplest uniformities of nature, as experienced throughout an

+immeasurable past, are better known than they are as experienced during

+an individual life. All which conceptions, however, being, as it seems,

+unheard of by the reviewer, he regards my trust in these primordial

+intuitions as like that of the Ptolemists in their fancies about

+perfection!

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Thus far my chief antagonists, passive if not active, have been Prof.

+Tait and, by implication, Sir William Thomson, {289} his coadjutor

+in the work quoted against me—men of standing, and the last of them

+of world-wide reputation as a mathematician and physicist. Partly

+because the opinions of such men demand attention, I have dealt with

+the questions raised at some length; and partly, also, because the

+origin and consequent warrant of physical axioms are questions of

+general and permanent interest. The reviewer, who by citing against me

+these authorities has gained for some of his criticisms consideration

+they would otherwise not deserve, I must, in respect of his other

+criticisms, deal with very briefly. Because, for reasons sufficiently

+indicated, I did not assail sundry of his statements, he has reiterated

+them as unassailable. I will here add no more than is needful to show

+how groundless is his assumption.

+

+What the reviewer says on the metaphysical aspects of the propositions

+we distinguish as physical, need not detain us long. His account of my

+exposition of “Ultimate Scientific Ideas,” he closes by saying of me

+that “he is not content with less than showing that all our fundamental

+conceptions are inconceivable.” Whether the reviewer knows what he

+means by an inconceivable conception, I cannot tell. It will suffice to

+say that I have attempted no such remarkable feat as that described. My

+attempt has been to show that objective activities, together with their

+objective forms, are inconceivable by us—that such symbolic conceptions

+of them as we frame, and are obliged to use, are proved, by the

+alternative contradictions which a final analysis of them discloses, to

+have no likeness to the realities. But the proposition that objective

+existence cannot be rendered in terms of subjective existence, the

+reviewer thinks adequately expressed by saying that “our fundamental

+conceptions” (subjective products) “are inconceivable” (cannot be

+framed by subjective processes)! Giving this as a sample from which

+may be judged his fitness for discussing these ultimate questions, I

+pass over his physico-metaphysical criticisms, and proceed at once to

+{290} those which his special discipline may be assumed to render more

+worthy of attention.

+

+Quoting a passage relative to the law that “all central forces vary

+inversely as the squares of the distances,” he derides the assertion

+that “this law is not simply an empirical one, but one deducible

+mathematically from the relations of space—one of which the negation

+is inconceivable.” Now whether this statement can or cannot be fully

+justified, it has at any rate none of that absurdity alleged by the

+reviewer. When he puts the question—“Whence does he [do I] get this?”

+he invites the suspicion that his mind is not characterized by much

+excursiveness. It seems never to have occurred to him that, if rays

+like those of light radiate in straight lines from a centre, the number

+of them falling on any given area of a sphere described from that

+centre, will diminish as the square of the distance increases, because

+the surfaces of spheres vary as the squares of their radii. For, if

+this has occurred to him, why does he ask whence I get the inference?

+The inference is so simple a one as naturally to be recognized by those

+whose thoughts go a little beyond their lessons in geometry.[38] If the

+reviewer means to ask, whence I get the implied assumption that central

+forces act only in straight lines, I reply that this assumption has a

+warrant akin to that of Newton’s first axiom, that a moving body will

+continue moving in a straight line unless interfered with. For that the

+force exerted by one centre on another should act in a curved line,

+implies the conception of some second force, complicating the direct

+effect of the first. And, even could a central force be truly conceived

+as acting in lines not straight, the _average_ {291} distribution of

+its effects upon the inner surface of the surrounding sphere, would

+still follow the same law. Thus, whether or not the law be accepted on

+_a priori_ grounds, the assumed absurdity of representing it to have _a

+priori_ grounds, is not very obvious. Respecting this statement of mine

+the reviewer goes on to say―

+

+ “This is a wisdom far higher than that possessed by the discoverer

+ of the great law of attraction, who was led to consider it from no

+ cogitations on the relations of space, but from observations of the

+ movements of the planets; and who was so far from rising to that

+ clearness of view of the truth of his great discovery, which is

+ expressed by the phrase, ‘its negation is inconceivable,’ that he

+ actually abandoned it for a time, because (through an error in his

+ estimate of the earth’s diameter) it did not seem fully to account for

+ the motion of the moon.”

+

+To the first clause in this sentence, I have simply to give a direct

+denial; and to assert that neither Newton’s “observations of the

+movements of the planets” nor other such observations continued by all

+astronomers for all time, would yield “the great law of attraction.”

+Contrariwise, I contend that when the reviewer says, by implication,

+that Newton had no antecedent hypothesis respecting the cause of the

+planetary motions, he (the reviewer) is not only going beyond his

+possible knowledge, but he is asserting that which even a rudimentary

+acquaintance with the process of discovery, might have shown him was

+impossible. Without framing, beforehand, the supposition that there

+was at work an attractive force varying inversely as the square of the

+distance, no such comparison of observations as that which led to the

+establishment of the theory of gravitation could have been made. On the

+second clause of the sentence, in which the reviewer volunteers for my

+benefit the information that Newton “actually abandoned” his hypothesis

+for a while because it did not bring out right results, I have first

+to tell him that, in an early number of the very periodical containing

+his article,[39] I cited this fact {292} (using these same words)

+at a time when he was at school, or before he went there.[40] I have

+next to assert that this fact is irrelevant; and that Newton, while

+probably seeing it to be a necessary implication of geometrical laws

+that central forces vary inversely as the squares of the distances,

+did not see it to be a necessary implication of any laws, geometrical

+or dynamical, that there exists a force by which the celestial bodies

+affect one another; and therefore doubtless saw that there was no _a

+priori_ warrant for the doctrine of gravitation. The reviewer, however,

+aiming to substitute for my “confused notions” his own clear ones,

+wishes me to identify the proposition—Central forces vary inversely

+as the squares of the distances—with the proposition—There exists a

+cosmical attractive force which varies inversely as the squares of

+the distances. But I decline to identify them; and I suspect that a

+considerable distinction between them was recognized by Newton. Lastly,

+apart from all this, I have to point out that even had Newton thought

+the existence of an attractive force throughout space was an _a priori_

+truth, as well as the law of variation of such a force if it existed;

+he would still, naturally enough, pause before asserting gravitation

+and its law, when he found his deductions did not correspond with the

+facts. To suppose otherwise, is to ascribe to him a rashness which no

+disciplined man of science could be guilty of.

+

+See, then, the critical capacity variously exhibited in the space

+of a single sentence. The reviewer, quite erroneously, thinks that

+observations unguided by hypotheses suffice for physical discoveries.

+He seems unaware that, on _a priori_ grounds, the law of the inverse

+square had been suspected as the law of some cosmical force, before

+Newton. He asserts, without warrant, that no such _a priori_ conception

+preceded, in Newton’s mind, his observations and {293} calculations.

+He confounds the law of variation of a force, with the existence of a

+force varying according to that law. And he concludes that Newton could

+have had no _a priori_ conception of the law of variation, because he

+did not assert the existence of a force varying according to this law

+in defiance of the evidence as then presented to him!

+

+Now that I have analyzed, with these results, the first of his

+criticisms, the reader will neither expect me to waste time in

+similarly dealing with the rest _seriatim_, nor will he wish to have

+his own time occupied in following the analysis. To the evidence thus

+furnished of the reviewer’s fitness for the task he undertakes, it will

+suffice if I add an illustration or two of the _animus_ which leads

+him to make grave imputations on trivial grounds, and to ignore the

+evidence which contradicts his interpretations.

+

+Because I have spoken of a balanced system, like that formed by the sun

+and planets, as having the “peculiarity, that though the constituents

+of the system have relative movements, the system, as a whole, has no

+movement,” he unhesitatingly assumes me to be unaware that in a system

+of bodies whose movements are not balanced, it is equally true that the

+centre of gravity remains constant. Ignorance of a general principle in

+dynamics is alleged against me solely because of this colloquial use

+of the word “peculiarity,” where I should have used a word (and there

+is no word perfectly fit) free from the implication of exclusiveness.

+If the reviewer were to assert that arrogance is a “peculiarity” of

+critics; and if I were thereupon to charge him with entire ignorance of

+mankind, many of whom besides critics are arrogant, he would rightly

+say that my conclusion was a very large one to draw from so small a

+premise.

+

+To this example of strained inference I will join an example of what

+seems like deliberate misconstruction. From one of my essays (not among

+the works he professes to deal with) the reviewer, to strengthen his

+attack, brings {294} a strange mistake; which, even without inquiry,

+any fair-minded reader would see must be an oversight. A statement true

+of a single body acted on by a tractive force, I have inadvertently

+pluralized: being so possessed by another aspect of the question, as to

+overlook the obvious fact that with a plurality of bodies the statement

+became untrue. Not only, however, does the reviewer ignore various

+evidences furnished by the works before him, that I could not really

+think what I had there said, but he ignores a direct contradiction

+contained in the paragraph succeeding that from which he quotes. So

+that the case stands thus:—On two adjacent pages I have made two

+opposite statements, both of which I cannot be supposed to believe. One

+of them is right; and this the reviewer assumes I do not believe. One

+of them is glaringly wrong; and this the reviewer assumes I do believe.

+Why he made this choice no one who reads his criticism will fail to see.

+

+Even had his judgments more authority than is given to them by his

+mathematical honours, this brief characterization would, I think,

+suffice. Perhaps already, in rebutting the assumption that I did not

+answer his allegations because they were unanswerable, I have ascribed

+to them an unmerited importance. For the rest, suggesting that their

+value may be measured by the value of that above dealt with as a

+sample, I leave them to be answered by the works they are directed

+against.

+

+Here I end. The foregoing pages, while serving, I think, the more

+important purpose of making clearer the relations of physical axioms

+to physical knowledge, incidentally justify the assertion that the

+reviewer’s charges of fallacious reasoning and ignorance of the

+nature of proof, recoil on himself. When, in his confident way, he

+undertakes to teach me the nature of our warrant for scientific

+beliefs, ignoring absolutely the inquiry contained in _Principles of

+Psychology_, concerning the relative values of direct intuitions and

+reasoned conclusions, he lays himself open to {295} a sarcasm which

+is sufficiently obvious. And when a certain ultimate principle of

+justification for our beliefs, set forth and acted upon in the _System

+of Synthetic Philosophy_ more distinctly than in any other work, is

+enunciated by him for my instruction, as one which he “thought that

+every tolerably educated man was aware” of, his course is one for

+which I find no fit epithet in the vocabulary I permit myself to

+use. That in some cases he has shown eagerness to found charges on

+misinterpretations little less than deliberate, has been sufficiently

+shown; as also that, in other cases, his own failure to discriminate

+is made the ground for ascribing to me beliefs that are manifestly

+untenable. Save in the single case of a statement respecting collisions

+of bodies, made by me without the needful qualification, I am not

+aware of any errors he detects, except errors of oversight or those

+arising from imperfect expression and inadequate exposition. When he

+unhesitatingly puts the worst constructions on these, it cannot be

+because his own exactness is such that no other constructions occur

+to him; for he displays an unusual capacity for inadvertencies, and

+must have had many experiences showing him how much he might be

+wronged by illiberal interpretations of them. One who in twenty-three

+professed extracts makes fifteen mistakes—words omitted, or added,

+or substituted—should not need reminding how largely mere oversight

+may raise suspicion of something worse. One who shows his notions of

+accurate statement by asserting that as I substitute “persistence”

+for “conservation,” I therefore identify Persistence of _Force_

+with Conservation of _Energy_, and debits me with the resulting

+incongruities—one who, in pursuance of this error, confounds a

+special principle with the general principle it is said to imply, and

+thereupon describes a wider principle as being included in a narrower

+(p. 481)—one who speaks of our “inner consciousness” (p. 488), so

+asserting, by implication, that we have an outer consciousness—one

+who {296} talks of an inconceivable conception; ought surely to be

+aware how readily lax expressions may be turned into proofs of absurd

+opinions. And one who, in the space of a few pages, falls into so many

+solecisms, ought to be vividly conscious that a whole volume thus

+written would furnish multitudinous statements from which a critic,

+moved by a spirit like his own, might evolve abundant absurdities;

+supplying ample occasion for blazoning the tops of pages with insulting

+words.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+[_A letter, drawn from_ Prof. Tait _by the foregoing criticisms, and

+published by him in_ Nature, _initiated a controversy carried on in

+that periodical between March 26th and June 18th, 1874. Partly in

+justification of my position, and partly as tending to make clearer the

+nature and origin of physical axioms, I append certain portions of the

+correspondence, with some additional explanations and comments. For the

+purpose of elucidation I prefix the theses I have maintained._] {297}

+

+

+THESES.

+

+1. _If A produces B, then 2 A will produce 2 B._

+

+ This is the blank form of causal relation quantitatively considered,

+ when the causes and effects are simple—that is, are unimpeded by other

+ causes and uncomplicated by other effects; and whenever two or more

+ causes co-operate, there is no possibility of determining the relation

+ between the compound cause and the compound effect except by assuming

+ that between each co-operating cause and its separate effect there

+ exists this same quantitative relation.

+

+2. _This truth holds whatever the natures of the simple causes and

+simple effects; and is an_ a priori _assumption made in conducting every

+experiment and in reasoning from it._

+

+ Every process of weighing, every chemical analysis, every physical

+ investigation, proceeds on this truth without assigning warrant for

+ it; and in allowing for the effect of any minor cause that interferes

+ with the major cause, this same truth is assumed.

+

+3. _When A is an impressed force and B the produced motion, then the

+general truth that if A produces B, 2 A will produce 2 B, becomes the

+more special truth called the Second Law of Motion._

+

+ Newton’s amplified statement of this Law is:—“If any force generates

+ a motion, a double force will generate double the motion, a triple

+ force triple the motion, whether that force be impressed altogether

+ and at once, or gradually and successively.” And his further clause,

+ asserting that this law holds whether the directions of the forces

+ are or are not the same, asserts a proportionality between each

+ force and its produced motion, such as we have seen to be invariably

+ assumed between each cause and its separate effect, when there are

+ co-operating causes.

+

+4. _This Law may be affirmed, without specification of the modes in

+which the impressed force and the resulting motion are to be estimated._

+

+ Newton’s statement is abstract. Taking for granted right modes of

+ measurement, it asserts that the alteration of motion (rightly

+ measured) is proportional to the impressed force (rightly measured).

+

+5. _No_ a posteriori _proof of the general ultimate physical truth (or

+of this more special truth it includes) is possible; because every

+supposed process of verification assumes it._

+

+These, cleared from entanglements, are the theses held by me, and

+defended in the following pages. {298}

+

+

+APPENDIX A.

+

+(_From_ Nature, _April 16, 1874._)

+

+Absence from town has delayed what further remarks I have to make

+respecting the disputed origin of physical axioms.

+

+The particular physical axiom in connection with which the general

+question was raised, was the Second Law of Motion. It stands in the

+_Principia_ as follows:―

+

+ “_The alteration of motion is ever proportional to the motive force

+ impressed; and is made in the direction of the right line in which

+ that force is impressed._

+

+ “If any force generates a motion, a double force will generate double

+ the motion, a triple force triple the motion, whether that force be

+ impressed altogether and at once, or gradually and successively. And

+ this motion (being always directed the same way with the generating

+ force), if the body moved before, is added to or subducted from

+ the former motion, according as they directly conspire with or are

+ directly contrary to each other; or obliquely joined, when they

+ are oblique, so as to produce a new motion compounded from the

+ determination of both.”

+

+As this, like each of the other Laws of Motion, is called an axiom;[41]

+as the paragraph appended to it is simply an amplification, or

+re-statement in a more concrete form; as there are no facts named

+as bases of induction, nor any justifying experiment; and as Newton

+proceeds forthwith to draw deductions; it was a legitimate inference

+that he regarded this truth as _a priori_. My statement to this effect

+was based on the contents of the _Principia_ itself; and I think I

+was warranted in assuming that the nature of the Laws of Motion, as

+conceived by Newton, was to be thence inferred.

+

+The passages quoted by the _British Quarterly_ Reviewer from Newton’s

+correspondence, which were unknown to me, show that this was not

+Newton’s conception of them. Thus far, then, my opponent has the best

+of the {299} argument. Several qualifying considerations have to be

+set down, however.

+

+(1) Clearly, the statements contained in the _Principia_ do not convey

+Newton’s conception; otherwise there would have been no need for his

+explanations. The passages quoted prove that he wished to exclude these

+cardinal truths from the class of hypotheses, which he said he did not

+make; and to do this he had to define them.

+

+(2) By calling them “axioms,” and by yet describing them as principles

+“_deduced_ from phenomena,” he makes it manifest that he gives the word

+“axiom” a sense widely unlike the sense in which it is usually accepted.

+

+(3) Further, the quotations fail to warrant the statement that the

+Laws of Motion are proved true by the truth of the _Principia_. For

+if the fulfilment of astronomical predictions made in pursuance of

+the _Principia_, is held to be the evidence “on which they chiefly

+rest to this day,” then, until thus justified, they are unquestionably

+hypotheses. Yet Newton says they are not hypotheses.

+

+Newton’s view may be found without seeking for it in his letters: it

+is contained in the _Principia_ itself. The scholium to Corollary VI.

+begins thus:―

+

+ “Hitherto I have laid down such principles as have been received by

+ mathematicians, and are _confirmed_ by abundance of experiments. By

+ the two first Laws and the two first Corollaries, Galileo discovered

+ that the descent of bodies observed the duplicate ratio of the time,

+ and that the motion of projectiles was in the curve of a parabola;

+ experience _agreeing_ with both,” &c.

+

+Now as this passage precedes the deductions constituting the

+_Principia_, it shows conclusively, in the first place, that Newton did

+not think “the whole of the _Principia_ was the proof” of the Laws of

+Motion, though the Reviewer asserts that it is. Further, by the words I

+have italicised, Newton implicitly describes Galileo as having asserted

+these Laws of Motion, if not as gratuitous hypotheses (which he says

+they are not), then as _a priori_ intuitions. For a proposition which

+is _confirmed_ by {300} experiment, and which is said to _agree_ with

+experience, must have been entertained before the alleged verifications

+could be reached. And as before he made his experiments on falling

+bodies and projectiles, Galileo had no facts serving as an inductive

+basis for the Second Law of Motion, the law could not have been arrived

+at by induction.

+

+Let me end what I have to say on this vexed question by adding

+a further reason to those I have already given, for saying that

+physical axioms cannot be established experimentally. The belief in

+their experimental establishment rests on the tacit assumption that

+experiments can be made, and conclusions drawn from them, without any

+truths being postulated. It is forgotten that there is a foundation

+of pre-conceptions without which the perceptions and inferences of

+the physicist cannot stand—_pre-conceptions which are the products

+of simpler experiences than those yielded by consciously-made

+experiments_. Passing over the many which do not immediately concern

+us, I will name only that which does,—the exact quantitative relation

+[of proportionality] between cause and effect. It is taken by the

+chemist as a truth needing no proof, that if two volumes of hydrogen

+unite with one volume of oxygen to form a certain quantity of water,

+four volumes of hydrogen uniting with two volumes of oxygen will

+form double the quantity of water. If a cubic foot of ice at 32°

+is liquefied by a specified quantity of heat, it is taken to be

+unquestionable that three times the quantity of heat will liquefy three

+cubic feet. And similarly with mechanical forces, the unhesitating

+assumption is that if one unit of force acting in a given direction

+produces a certain result, two units will produce twice the result.

+Every process of measurement in a physical experiment takes this for

+granted; as we see in one of the simplest of them—the process of

+weighing. If a measured quantity of metal, gravitating towards the

+Earth, counterbalances a quantity of some other substance, the truth

+postulated in every act {301} of weighing is, that any multiple of

+such weight will counterbalance an equi-multiple of such substance.

+That is to say, each unit of force is assumed to work its equivalent

+of effect in the direction in which it acts. Now this is nothing else

+than the assumption which the Second Law of Motion expresses in respect

+to effects of another kind. “If any force generates a motion, a double

+force will generate a double motion,” &c., &c.; and when carried on

+to the composition of motions, the law is, similarly, the assertion

+that any other force, acting in any other direction, will similarly

+produce in that direction a proportionate motion. So that the law

+simply asserts the exact equivalence [or proportionality] of causes

+and effects of this particular class, while all physical experiments

+_assume_ this exact equivalence [or proportionality] among causes and

+effects of all classes. Hence, the proposal to prove the Laws of Motion

+experimentally, is the proposal to make a wider assumption for the

+purpose of justifying one of the narrower assumptions included in it.

+

+Reduced to its briefest form, the argument is this:—If definite

+quantitative relations [of proportionality] between causes and effects

+be assumed _a priori_, then, the Second Law of Motion is an immediate

+corollary. If there are not definite quantitative relations [of

+proportionality] between causes and effects, all the conclusions drawn

+from physical experiments are invalid. And further, in the absence of

+this _a priori_ assumption of equivalence, the quantified conclusion

+from any experiment may be denied, and any other quantification of the

+conclusion asserted.[42]

+

+ HERBERT SPENCER.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Entire misconstruction of the view expressed above, {302} having been

+shown by a new assailant, who announced himself as also “A Senior

+Wrangler,” Mr. James Collier [my secretary at that time] wrote on my

+behalf an explanatory letter, published in _Nature_ for May 21, 1874,

+from which the following passages are extracts:―

+

+“The cue may be taken from an experience described in Mr. Spencer’s

+_Principles of Psychology_ (§ 468, note), where it is shown that

+when with one hand we pull the other, we have in the feeling of

+tension produced in the limb pulled, a measure of the reaction that

+is equivalent to the action of the other limb. Both terms of the

+relation of cause and effect are in this case present to consciousness

+as muscular tensions, which are our symbols of forces in general.

+While no motion is produced they are felt to be equal, so far as the

+sensations can serve to measure equality; and when excess of tension is

+felt in the one arm, motion is experienced in the other. Here, as in

+the examples about to be given, the relation between cause and effect,

+though numerically indefinite, is definite in the respect that every

+additional increment of cause produces an additional increment of

+effect; and it is out of this and similar experiences that the idea of

+the relation of proportionality grows and becomes organic.

+

+“A child, when biting his food, discovers that the harder he bites the

+deeper is the indentation; in other words, that the more force applied,

+the greater the effect. If he tears an object with his teeth, he finds

+that the more he pulls the more the thing yields. Let him press against

+something soft, as his own person, or his clothes, or a lump of clay,

+and he sees that the part or object pressed yields little or much,

+according to the amount of the muscular strain. He can bend a stick

+the more completely the more force he applies. Any elastic object, as

+a piece of india-rubber or a catapult, can be stretched the farther

+the harder he pulls. If he tries to push a small body, there is little

+resistance and it is easy to move; but he finds that a {303} big body

+presents greater resistance and is harder to move. The experience

+is precisely similar if he attempts to lift a big body and a little

+one; or if he raises a limb, with or without any object attached to

+it. He throws a stone: if it is light, little exertion propels it a

+considerable distance; if very heavy, great exertion only a short

+distance. So, also, if he jumps, a slight effort raises him to a short

+height, a greater effort to a greater height. By blowing with his mouth

+he sees that he can move small objects, or the surface of his morning’s

+milk, gently or violently according as the blast is weak or strong. And

+it is the same with sounds: with a slight strain on the vocal organs he

+produces a murmur; with great strain he can raise a shout.

+

+“The experiences these propositions record all implicate the same

+consciousness—the notion of proportionality between force applied and

+result produced; and it is out of this latent consciousness that the

+axiom of the perfect quantitative equivalence of the relations between

+cause and effect is evolved. To show how rigorous, how irreversible,

+this consciousness becomes, take a boy and suggest to him the following

+statements:—Can he not break a string he has, by pulling? tell him

+to double it, and then he will break it. He cannot bend or break a

+particular stick: let him make less effort and he will succeed. He is

+unable to raise a heavy weight: tell him he errs by using too much

+force. He can’t push over a small chest: he will find it easier to

+upset a larger one. By blowing hard he cannot move a given object: if

+he blows lightly, he will move it. By great exertion he cannot make

+himself audible at a distance: but he will make himself heard with

+less exertion at a greater distance. Tell him to do all or any of

+these, and of course he fails. The propositions are unthinkable, and

+their unthinkableness shows that the consciousness which yields them

+is irreversible. These, then, are preconceptions, properly so called,

+which have {304} grown unconsciously out of the earliest experiences,

+beginning with those of the sucking infant, which are perpetually

+confirmed by fresh experiences, and which have at last become organized

+in the mental structure.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+“Mr. Spencer’s argument appears to be briefly this:—1. There are

+numberless experiences unconsciously acquired and unconsciously

+accumulated during the early life of the individual (in harmony

+with the acquisitions of all ancestral individuals) which yield the

+preconception, long anteceding anything like conscious physical

+experiments, that physical causes and effects vary together

+quantitatively. This is gained from all orders of physical experiences,

+and forms a universal preconception respecting them, which the

+physicist or other man of Science brings with him to his experiments.

+

+“2. Mr. Spencer showed in three cases—chemical, physical, and

+mechanical—that this preconception, so brought, was tacitly involved

+in the conception which the experimenter drew from the results of his

+experiments.

+

+“3. Having indicated this universal preconception, and illustrated

+its presence in these special conceptions, Mr. Spencer goes on to say

+that it is involved also in the special conception of the relation

+between force and motion, as formulated in the ‘Second Law of Motion.’

+He asserts that this is simply one case out of the numberless cases

+in which all these consciously-reasoned conclusions rest upon the

+unconsciously-formed conclusions that precede reasoning. Mr. Spencer

+alleges that as it has become impossible for a boy to think that

+by a smaller effort he can jump higher, and for a shopman to think

+that smaller weights will outbalance greater quantities, and for the

+physicist to think that he will get increased effects from diminished

+causes, so it is impossible to think that ‘alteration of motion’ is not

+‘proportional to the motive force impressed.’ And he maintains that

+this is, in fact, a {305} latent implication of unconsciously-organized

+experiences, just as much as those which the experimenter necessarily

+postulates.”

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+To meet further misinterpretations, a second letter was written by Mr.

+Collier and published in _Nature_ for June 4, 1874. The following are

+passages from it:―

+

+“Having but limited space, and assuming that the requisite

+qualifications would be made by unbiased readers, I passed over all

+those details of the child’s experiences which would have been required

+in a full exposition. Of course I was aware that in the bending of a

+stick the visible effect does not increase in the same ratio as the

+force applied; and hardly needed the ‘Senior Wrangler’ to tell me

+that the resistance to a body moving through a fluid increases in a

+higher ratio than the velocity. It was taken for granted that he, and

+those who think with him, would see that out of all these experiences,

+in some of which the causes and effects are simple, and in others

+of which they are complex, there grows the consciousness that the

+proportionality is the more distinct the simpler the antecedents and

+consequents. This is part of the preconception which the physicist

+brings with him and acts upon. Perhaps it is within the ‘Senior

+Wrangler’s’ knowledge of physical exploration, that when the physicist

+finds a result not bearing that ratio to its assigned cause which the

+two were ascertained in other cases to have, he immediately assumes the

+presence of some perturbing cause or causes, which modify the ratio.

+There is, in fact, no physical determination made by any experimenter

+which does not assume, as an _a priori_ necessity, that there cannot

+be a deviation from proportion without the presence of such additional

+cause.

+

+“Returning to the general issue, perhaps the ‘Senior Wrangler’ will

+pay some respect to the judgment of one {306} who was a Senior

+Wrangler too, and a great deal more—who was distinguished not only

+as a mathematician but as an astronomer, a physicist, and also as an

+inquirer into the methods of science: I mean Sir John Herschel. In his

+_Discourse on the Study of Natural Philosophy_, he says:―

+

+ “‘When we would lay down general rules for guiding and facilitating

+ our search, among a great mass of assembled facts, for their common

+ cause, we must have regard to the characters of that relation which we

+ intend by cause and effect.’

+

+“Of these ‘characters’ he sets down the third and fourth in the

+following terms:―

+

+ “‘Increase or diminution of the effect, with the increased or

+ diminished intensity of the cause, in cases which admit of increase

+ and diminution.’

+

+ “‘Proportionality of the effect to its cause in all cases of _direct

+ unimpeded_ action.’

+

+“Observe that, in Sir J. Herschel’s view, these are ‘characters’ of

+the relation of cause and effect to be accepted as ‘general rules for

+_guiding_ and facilitating our search’ among physical phenomena—truths

+that must be taken for granted _before_ the search, not truths derived

+_from_ the search. Clearly, the ‘proportionality of the effect to its

+cause in all cases of direct and unimpeded action’ is here taken as

+_a priori_. Sir J. Herschel would, therefore, have asserted, with Mr.

+Spencer, that the Second Law of Motion is _a priori_; since this is one

+of the cases of the ‘proportionality of the effect to its cause.’

+

+“And now let the ‘Senior Wrangler’ do what Sir J. Herschel has not done

+or thought of doing—_prove_ the proportionality of cause and effect.

+Neither he, nor any other of Mr. Spencer’s opponents, has made the

+smallest attempt to deal with this main issue. Mr. Spencer alleges

+that this cognition of proportionality is _a priori_: not in the old

+sense, but in the sense that it grows out of experiences that precede

+reasoning. His opponents, following Prof. Tait in the assertion that

+Physics is a purely experimental science, containing, therefore, no _a

+priori_ truths, affirm that this {307} cognition is _a posteriori_—a

+product of conscious induction. Let us hear what are the experiments.

+It is required to establish the truth that there is proportionality

+between causes and effects, _by a process which nowhere assumes_ that

+if one unit of force produces a certain unit of effect, two units of

+such force will produce two units of such effect. Until the ‘Senior

+Wrangler’ has done this he has left Mr. Spencer’s position untouched.”

+

+

+APPENDIX B.

+

+[After publication of the letters from which the foregoing are

+reproduced, there appeared in _Nature_ certain rejoinders containing

+misrepresentations even more extreme than those preceding them.

+There resulted a direct correspondence with two of the writers—Mr.

+Robert B. Hayward, of Harrow, and Mr. J. F. Moulton, my original

+assailant, the author of the article in the _British Quarterly Review_.

+This correspondence, in which I demanded from these gentlemen the

+justifications for their statements, formed part of this Appendix in

+its pamphlet form, as distributed among those who are competent to

+judge of the questions at issue. It is needless to give permanence

+to the replies and rejoinders. The character of Mr. Moulton’s

+allegations, quite congruous with those I have exposed in the “Replies

+to Criticisms,” may be inferred from one of the sentences closing my

+reply—“Wonderful to relate, my inductive proof that proportionality [of

+cause and effect] is taken for granted, he cites as my inductive proof

+of proportionality itself!” The result of the interchange of letters

+with Mr. Hayward, was to make it clear that “the thing I assert is not

+really disputed; and the thing disputed, I have nowhere asserted.”

+While, however, the controversial part of the correspondence may fitly

+disappear, {308} I retain an expository part embodied in the following

+letter to Mr. Hayward.]

+

+

+ 38, Queen’s Gardens, Bayswater,

+ June 21st, 1874.

+

+SIR,—Herewith I send you a copy of your letter with my interposed

+comments. I think those comments will make it clear to you that I

+have not committed myself to three different definitions of our

+consciousness of the Second Law of Motion.

+

+As others may still feel a difficulty such as you seem to have felt,

+in understanding that which familiarity has made me regard as simple,

+I will endeavour, by a synthetic exposition, to make clear the way in

+which these later and more complex products of organized experiences

+stand related to earlier and simpler products. To make this exposition

+easier to follow, I will take first our Space-consciousness and the

+derived conceptions.

+

+On the hypothesis of Evolution, the Space-consciousness results from

+organized motor, tactual, and visual experiences. In the _Principles

+of Psychology_, §§ 326–346, I have described in detail what I conceive

+to have been its genesis. Such Space-consciousness so generated,

+is one possessed in greater or less degree by all creatures of any

+intelligence; becoming wider, and more definite, according to the

+degree of mental evolution which converse with the environment has

+produced. How deeply registered the external relations have become in

+the internal structure, is shown by the facts that the decapitated

+frog pushes away with one or both legs the scalpel applied to the hind

+part of its body, and that the chick, as soon as it has recovered from

+the exhaustion of escaping from the egg, performs correctly-guided

+actions (accompanied by consciousness of distance and direction) in

+picking up grains. Ascending at once to such organized and inherited

+Space-consciousness as exists in the child, and which from moment

+to moment {309} it is making more complete by its own experiences

+(aiding the development of its nervous system into the finished

+type of the adult, by the same exercises which similarly aid the

+development of its muscular system), we have to observe that, along

+with increasingly-definite ideas of distance and direction, it gains

+unawares certain more special ideas of geometrical relations. Take

+one group of these. Every time it spreads open its fingers it sees

+increase of the angles between them, going along with increase of the

+distances between the finger-tips. In opening wide apart its own legs,

+and in seeing others walk, it has continually before it the relation

+between increase or decrease of base in a triangle having equal sides,

+and increase or decrease of the angle included by those sides. [The

+relation impressed on it being simply that of _concomitant variation_:

+I do not speak of any more definite relation, which, indeed, is

+unthinkable by the young.] It does not observe these facts in such way

+as to be conscious that it has observed them; but they are so impressed

+upon it as to establish a rigid association between certain mental

+states. Various of its activities disclose space-relations of this

+class more definitely. The drawing of a bow exhibits them in another

+way and with somewhat greater precision; and when, instead of the ends

+of a bow, capable of approaching one another, the points of attachment

+are fixed and the string elastic, the connexion between increasing

+length in the sides of an isosceles triangle and increasing acuteness

+of the included angle, is still more forced upon the attention; though

+it still does not rise into a conscious cognition. This is what I

+mean by an “unconsciously-formed preconception.” When, in course of

+time, the child, growing into the boy, draws diagrams on paper, and,

+among other things, draws isosceles triangles, the truth that, the

+base being the same, the angle at the apex becomes more acute as the

+sides lengthen, is still more definitely displayed to him; and when

+his attention is drawn to this relation he finds that he {310} cannot

+think of it as being otherwise. If he imagines the lengths of the sides

+to change, he cannot exclude the consciousness of the correlative

+change in the angle; and presently, when his mental power is

+sufficiently developed, he perceives that if he continues to lengthen

+the sides in imagination, the lines approach parallelism as the angle

+approaches zero: yielding a conception of the relations of parallel

+lines. Here the consciousness has risen into the stage of definite

+conception. But, manifestly, the definite conception so reached is

+but a finishing of the preconceptions previously reached, and would

+have been impossible in their absence; and these unconsciously-formed

+preconceptions would similarly have been impossible in the absence of

+the still earlier consciousnesses of distance, direction, relative

+position, embodied in the consciousness of Space. The whole evolution

+is one; the arrival at the distinct conception is the growing up to an

+ultimate definiteness and complexity; and it can no more be reached

+without passing through the earlier stages of indefinite consciousness,

+than the adult bodily structure can be reached without passing through

+the structures of the embryo, the infant, and the child.[43]

+

+Through a parallel evolution arises, first the vague {311}

+consciousness of forces as exerted by self and surrounding things;

+presently, some discrimination in respect of their amounts as related

+to their effects; later, an association formed unawares between

+greatness of quantity in the two, and between smallness of quantity in

+the two; later still, a tacit assumption of proportionality, though

+without a distinct consciousness that the assumption has been made;

+and, finally, a rising of this assumption into definite recognition,

+as a truth necessarily holding where the forces are simple. Throughout

+its life every creature has, _within the actions of its moving parts_,

+forces and motions conforming to the Laws of Motion. {312} If it has

+a nervous system, the differences among the muscular tensions and the

+movements initiated, register themselves in a vague way in that nervous

+system. As the nervous system develops, along with more developed

+limbs, there are at once more numerous different experiences . . .

+of momentum generated, of connected actions and reactions (as when

+an animal tears the food which it holds with its paws); and, at the

+same time, there are, in its more developed nervous system, increased

+powers of appreciating and registering these differences. All the

+resulting connexions in consciousness, though unknowingly formed and

+unknowingly entertained, are ever present as guides to action: witness

+the proportion between the effort an animal makes and the distance

+it means to spring; or witness the delicate adjustments of muscular

+strains to changes of motion, made by a swallow catching flies or a

+hawk swooping on its quarry. Manifestly, then, these experiences,

+organized during the earlier stages of mental evolution, form a body of

+consciousnesses, not formulated into cognitions, nor present even as

+preconceptions, but nevertheless present as a mass of associations _in

+which the truths of relation between force and motion are potentially

+present_. On ascending to human beings of the uncultured sort, we reach

+a stage at which some nascent generalization of these experiences

+occur. The savage has not expressed to himself the truth that if he

+wants to propel his spear further he must use more force; nor does

+the rustic put into a distinct thought the truth that to raise double

+the weight he must put forth twice the effort; but in each there is

+a tacit assumption to this effect, as becomes manifest on calling it

+in question. So that, in respect of these and other simple mechanical

+actions, there exist unconsciously-formed preconceptions. And just as

+the geometrical truths presented in a rude way by the relations among

+surrounding objects, are not overtly recognized until there is some

+familiarity with straight lines, and diagrams made of them; {313}

+so, until linear measures, long used, have led to the equal-armed

+lever, or scales, and thus to the notion of equal units of force, this

+mechanical preconception cannot rise into definiteness. Nor after it

+has risen into definiteness does it for a long time reach the form of

+a consciously-held cognition; for neither the village huxter nor the

+more cultivated druggist in the town, recognizes the general abstract

+truth that, when uninterfered with, equi-multiples of causes and their

+effects are necessarily connected. But now observe that this truth,

+acted upon with more or less distinct consciousness of it by the man

+of science, and perfected by him through analysis and abstraction,

+is thus perfected only as the last step in its evolution. This

+definite cognition is but the finished form of a consciousness long in

+preparation—a consciousness the body of which is present in the brute,

+takes some shape in the primitive man, reaches greater definiteness in

+the semi-civilized, becomes afterwards an assumption distinct though

+not formulated, and takes its final development only as it rises into

+a consciously-accepted axiom. Just as there is a continuous evolution

+of the nervous system, so is there a continuous evolution of the

+consciousness accompanying its action. Just as the one grows in volume,

+complexity, and definiteness, so does the other. And just as necessary

+as the earlier stages are to the later in the one case, are they in

+the other. To suppose that the finished conceptions of science can

+exist without the unfinished common knowledge which precedes them,

+or this without still earlier mental acquisitions, is the same thing

+as to suppose that we can have the correct judgments of the adult

+without passing through the crude judgments of the youth, the narrow,

+incoherent ones of the child, and the vague, feeble ones of the infant.

+So far is it from being true that the view of physical axioms held by

+me, is one which bases cognitions on some other source than experience,

+it asserts experience to be the only possible source of these, as of

+other cognitions; but it asserts, further, that {314} not simply is

+the consciously-acquired experience of present actions needful, but

+that _for the very possibility of gaining this_ we are indebted to the

+accumulated experiences of all past actions. Not I, but my antagonists,

+are really chargeable with accepting the ancient _a priori_ view;

+since, without any explanation of them or justification of them, they

+posit as unquestionable the assumptions underlying every experiment

+and the conclusion drawn from it. The belief in physical causation,

+assumed from moment to moment as necessary in every experiment and

+in all reasoning from it, is a belief which, if not justified by the

+hypothesis above set forth, is tacitly asserted as an _a priori_

+belief. Contrariwise, my own position is one which affiliates all such

+beliefs upon experiences acquired during the whole past; which alleges

+those experiences as the only warrant for them; which asserts that

+during the converse between the mind and its environment, necessary

+connexions in Thought, such as those concerning Space, have resulted

+from infinite experiences of corresponding necessary connexions in

+Things; and that, similarly, out of perpetual converse with the Forces

+manifested to us in Space, there has been a progressive establishment

+of internal relations answering to external relations, in such wise

+that there finally emerge as physical axioms, certain necessities of

+Thought which answer to necessities in Things.

+

+I need scarcely say that I have taken the trouble of making my comments

+on your letter, and of writing this further exposition, with a view to

+their ulterior use.

+

+ I am, &c.,

+ HERBERT SPENCER.

+

+

+APPENDIX C.

+

+SUMMARY OF RESULTS.

+

+Those who deny a general doctrine enunciated by Mayer as the basis

+of his reasonings, habitually assumed by Faraday {315} as a guiding

+principle in drawing his conclusions, distinctly held by Helmholtz,

+and tacitly implied by Sir John Herschel—those, I say, who deny this

+general doctrine and even deride it, should be prepared with clear

+and strong reasons for doing this. Having been attacked, not in the

+most temperate manner, for enunciating this doctrine and its necessary

+implications in a specific form, I have demanded such reasons. Observe

+the responses to the demand.

+

+ 1. The _British Quarterly_ Reviewer

+ quoted for my instruction the _dictum_ of

+ Professor Tait, that “Natural Philosophy

+ is an experimental, and not an intuitive

+ science. No _à priori_ reasoning can

+ conduct us demonstratively to a single

+ physical truth.” Thereupon I inquired

+ what Professor Tait meant “by speaking of

+ ‘physical _axioms_,’ and by saying that

+ the cultured are enabled ‘to see _at once_

+ their _necessary_ truth?’” . . .               No reply.

+

+ 2. Instead of an answer to the question,

+ how this intuition of necessity can be

+ alleged by Professor Tait consistently with

+ his other doctrine, the Reviewer quotes,

+ as though it disposed of my question,

+ Professor Tait’s statement that “as the

+ properties of matter might have been

+ such as to render a totally different

+ set of laws axiomatic, _these laws_ [of

+ motion] _must be considered as resting_

+ _on convictions drawn from observation_

+ _and experiment, and not on intuitive_

+ _perception._” Whereupon I inquired how

+ Professor Tait knows that “the properties

+ of matter _might have been_” other {316}

+ than they are. I asked how it happened

+ that his intuition concerning things

+ _as they are not_, is so certain that,

+ by inference from it, he discredits our

+ intuitions concerning things _as they_

+ _are_ . . .                                     No reply: Professor

+                                                Tait told, _à propos_

+                                                of my question, a

+                                                story of which no one

+                                                could discover the

+                                                application; but,

+                                                otherwise, declined to

+                                                answer. Nor was any

+                                                answer given by his

+                                                disciple.

+

+ 3. Further, I asked how it happened

+ that Professor Tait accepted as bases

+ for Physics, Newton’s Laws of Motion;

+ which were illustrated but not _proved_

+ by Newton, and of which no _proofs_

+ are supplied by Professor Tait, in the

+ _Treatise on Natural Philosophy_. I went on

+ to examine what conceivable _a posteriori_

+ warrant there can be if there is no warrant

+ _a priori_; and I pointed out that neither

+ from terrestrial nor from celestial

+ phenomena can the First Law of Motion be

+ deduced without a _petitio principii_ . . .    No reply: the Reviewer

+                                                characterized my

+                                                reasoning as “utterly

+                                                erroneous” (therein

+                                                differing entirely from

+                                                two {317} eminent

+                                                authorities who read it

+                                                in proof); but beyond

+                                                so characterizing it he

+                                                said nothing.

+

+ 4. To my assertion that Newton gave no

+ proof of the Laws of Motion, the Reviewer

+ rejoined that “the whole of the _Principia_

+ was the proof.” On which my comment was

+ that Newton called them “axioms,” and that

+ axioms are not commonly supposed to be

+ proved by deductions from them . . .           The Reviewer quotes

+                                                from one of Newton’s

+                                                letters a passage

+                                                showing that though

+                                                he called the Laws

+                                                of Motion “axioms,”

+                                                he regarded them as

+                                                principles “made

+                                                general by induction;”

+                                                and that therefore he

+                                                could not have regarded

+                                                them as _a priori_.

+

+ 5. In rejoinder, I pointed out that

+ whatever conception Newton may have had

+ of these “axioms,” he explicitly and

+ distinctly excluded them from the class

+ of “hypotheses.” Hence I inferred that

+ he did not regard the whole of the {318}

+ _Principia_ as the proof, which the

+ Reviewer says it is; since an assumption

+ made at the outset, to be afterwards

+ justified by the results of assuming it, is

+ an “hypothesis” . . .                          No reply.

+

+ 6. Authority aside, I examined on its

+ merits the assertion that the Laws of

+ Motion are, or can be, proved true by

+ the ascertained truth of astronomical

+ predictions; and showed that the process of

+ verification itself assumed those Laws.        No reply.

+

+ 7. To make still clearer the fact that

+ ultimate physical truths are, and must

+ be, accepted as _a priori_, I pointed out

+ that in every experiment the physicist

+ tacitly assumes a relation between cause

+ and effect, such that, if one unit of cause

+ produces its unit of effect, two units of

+ the cause will produce two units of the

+ effect; and I argued that this general

+ assumption included the special assumption

+ asserted in the Second Law of Motion. . . .    No reply: that is to

+                                                say, no endeavour to

+                                                show the untruth of

+                                                this statement, but a

+                                                quibble based on my

+                                                omission of the word

+                                                “proportionality” in

+                                                places where it was

+                                                implied, though not

+                                                stated.

+

+ 8. Attention was drawn to a passage {319}

+ from Sir John Herschel’s _Discourse on the_

+ _Study of Natural Philosophy_, in which the

+ “proportionality of the effect to its cause

+ in all cases of _direct unimpeded_ action”

+ is included by him among “the characters

+ of that relation which we intend by cause

+ and effect;” and in which this assumption

+ of proportionality is set down as one

+ _preceding_ physical exploration, and not

+ as one to be established by it . . .           No reply.

+

+ 9. Lastly, a challenge to prove this

+ proportionality. “It is required to

+ establish the truth that there is

+ proportionality between causes and effects,

+ _by a process which nowhere assumes_

+ that if one unit of force produces a

+ certain unit of effect, two units of such

+ force will produce two units of such

+ effect.” . . .                                 No reply.

+

+Thus on all these essential points my three mathematical opponents

+allow judgment to go against them by default. The attention of readers

+has been drawn off from the main issues by the discussion of side

+issues. Fundamental questions have been evaded, and new questions of

+subordinate kinds raised.

+

+What is the implication? One who is able to reach and to carry the

+central position of his antagonist, does not spend his strength on

+small outposts. If he declines to assault the stronghold, it must be

+because he sees it to be impregnable.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+The trouble I have thus taken to meet criticisms and dissipate

+misapprehensions, I have taken because the attack {320} made on

+the special doctrine defended, is part of an attack on the ultimate

+doctrine underlying the deductive part of _First Principles_—the

+doctrine that the quantity of existence is unchangeable. I agree with

+Sir W. Hamilton that our consciousness of the necessity of causation,

+results from the impossibility of conceiving the totality of Being to

+increase or decrease. The proportionality of cause and effect is an

+implication: denial of it involves the assertion that some quantity

+of cause has disappeared without effect, or some quantity of effect

+has arisen without cause. I have asserted the _a priori_ character

+of the Second Law of Motion, _under the abstract form in which it is

+expressed_, simply because this, too, is an implication, somewhat more

+remote, of the same ultimate truth. And my sole reason for insisting

+on the validity of these intuitions, is that, on the hypothesis of

+Evolution, absolute uniformities in things have produced absolute

+uniformities in thoughts; and that necessary thoughts represent

+infinitely-larger accumulations of experiences than are formed by the

+observations, experiments, and reasonings of any single life.

+

+

+ENDNOTES TO _REPLIES TO CRITICISMS_.

+

+[24] _Principles of Psychology_, Second Edition, § 425, note.

+

+[25] _Le Sentiment Religieux_, par A. Grotz. Paris, J. Cherbuliez, 1870.

+

+[26] Instead of describing me as misunderstanding Kant on this point,

+Dr. Hodgson should have described Kant as having, in successive

+sentences, so changed the meanings of the words he uses, as to make

+either interpretation possible. At the outset of his _Critique of

+Pure Reason_, he says:—“The effect of an object upon the faculty of

+representation, so far as we are affected by the said object, is

+sensation. That sort of intuition which relates to an object by means

+of sensation, is called an empirical intuition. The undetermined

+object of an empirical intuition, is called _phænomenon_. That which

+in the phænomenon corresponds to the sensation, I term its _matter_;”

+[here, remembering the definition just given of phenomenon, objective

+existence is manifestly referred to] “but that which effects that the

+content of the phænomenon can be arranged under certain relations, I

+call its _form_” [so that _form_, as here applied, refers to objective

+existence]. “But that in which our sensations are merely arranged, and

+by which they are susceptible of assuming a certain form, cannot be

+itself sensation.” [In which sentence the word _form_ obviously refers

+to subjective existence.] At the outset, the ‘phenomenon’ and the

+‘sensation’ are distinguished as objective and subjective respectively;

+and then, in the closing sentences, the _form_ is spoken of in

+connexion first with the one and then with the other, as though they

+were the same.

+

+[27] See _Fraser’s Magazine_ for May, 1873.

+

+[28] _First Principles_, § 26.

+

+[29] _Ibid._ § 76 (1st ed.)

+

+[30] Compare _Principles of Psychology_, §§ 88, 95, 391, 401, 406.

+

+[31] _First Principles_, §§ 39–45.

+

+[32] _Principles of Psychology_, part vii.

+

+[33] _Social Statics_, chap. iii.

+

+[34] _Principles of Psychology_, § 531.

+

+[35] _First Principles_, § 34.

+

+[36] Only after the foregoing paragraphs were written, did the remark

+of a distinguished friend show me how certain words were misconstrued

+by the reviewer in a way that had never occurred to me as possible. In

+the passage referred to, I have said that sound-waves “finally die away

+in generating thermal undulations that radiate into space;” meaning,

+of course, that the force embodied in the sound-waves is finally

+_exhausted_ in generating thermal undulations. In common speech, the

+dying-away of a prolonged sound, as that of a church-bell, includes

+its gradual diminution as well as its final cessation. But rather

+than suppose I gave to the words this ordinary meaning, the reviewer

+supposes me to believe, not simply that the _longitudinal_ waves of

+air can pass, _without discontinuity_, into the _transverse_ waves

+of ether, but he also debits me with the belief that the one order

+of waves, having lengths measurable in feet, and rates expressed in

+hundreds per second, can, _by mere enfeeblement_, pass into the other

+order of waves, having lengths of some fifty thousand to the inch, and

+rates expressed in many billions per second! Why he preferred so to

+interpret my words, and that, too, in the face of contrary implications

+elsewhere (instance § 100), will, however, be manifest to every one who

+reads his criticisms.

+

+[37] Other examples of these amenities of controversy, in which I

+decline to imitate my reviewer, have already been given. What occasions

+he supplies me for imitation, were I minded to take advantage of

+them, an instance will show. Pointing out an implication of certain

+reasonings of mine, he suggests that it is too absurd even for me to

+avow explicitly; saying:—“We scarcely think that even Mr. Spencer

+will venture to claim as a datum of consciousness the Second Law of

+Motion, with its attendant complexities of component velocities, &c.”

+Now any one who turns to Newton’s _Principia,_ will find that to the

+enunciation of the Second Law of Motion, nothing whatever is appended

+but an amplified re-statement—there is not even an illustration, much

+less a proof. And from this law, this axiom, this immediate intuition

+or “datum of consciousness,” Newton proceeds forthwith to draw those

+corollaries respecting the composition of forces which underlie all

+dynamics. What, then, must be thought of Newton, who explicitly assumes

+that which the reviewer thinks it absurd to assume implicitly?

+

+[38] That I am certainly not singular in this view, is shown to me,

+even while I write, by the just-issued work of Prof. Jevons on the

+_Principles of Science: a Treatise on Logic and Scientific Method_. In

+vol. ii., p. 141, Prof. Jevons remarks respecting the law of variation

+of the attractive force, that it “is doubtless connected at this point

+with the primary properties of space itself, and is so far conformable

+to our necessary ideas.”

+

+[39] See Essay on “The Genesis of Science,” in the _British Quarterly

+Review_ for July, 1854, p. 127.

+

+[40] I do not say this at random. The reviewer, who has sought rather

+to make known than to conceal his identity, took his degree in 1868.

+

+[41] It is true that in Newton’s time, “axiom” had not the same

+rigorously defined meaning as now; but it suffices for my argument

+that, _standing unproved_ as a basis for physical deductions, it bears

+just the same relation to them that a mathematical axiom does to

+mathematical deductions.

+

+[42] The above letter, written after absence at Easter had involved a

+week’s delay, and written somewhat hurriedly to prevent the delay of

+a second week, was less carefully revised than it should have been.

+The words in square brackets, obviously implied by the reasoning, and

+specifically implied by the illustrations, were not in the letter as

+originally published.

+

+[43] Here, in explaining the genesis of special space-intuitions, I

+have singled out a group of experiences which, in _Nature_, May 28, Mr.

+Hayward had chosen as illustrating the absurdity of supposing that the

+scientific conception of proportionality could be reached as alleged.

+He said:―

+

+ “It is hardly a parody of Mr. Collier’s remarks to say:—‘A child

+ discovers that the greater the angle between his legs the greater the

+ distance between his feet, an experience which implicates the notion

+ of proportionality between the angle of a triangle and its opposite

+ side;’ a preconception, as it appears to me, with just as good a basis

+ as that whose formation Mr. Collier illustrates, but one which, as I

+ need hardly add, is soon corrected by a conscious study of geometry or

+ by actual measurement.”

+

+I am indebted to Mr. Hayward for giving this instance. It conveniently

+serves two purposes. It serves to exemplify the connexion between the

+crude preconceptions unconsciously formed by earlier experiences, and

+the conceptions consciously evolved out of them by the help of later

+experiences, when the requisite powers of analysis and abstraction

+have been reached. And at the same time it serves to show the failure

+of my opponents to understand how, in the genesis of intelligence,

+the scientific conception of exact proportionality develops from the

+crude, vague, and inaccurate preconception. For while the notion of

+proportionality acquired by the child in Mr. Hayward’s example, is

+not true, it is an approximation towards one which _is_ true, and

+one which is reached when its more developed intelligence is brought

+critically to bear on the facts. Eventually it is discovered that the

+angle is not proportional to the subtending side, but to the subtending

+arc; and this is discovered _in the process of disentangling a simple

+relation from other relations which complicate and disguise it_.

+Between the angle and the arc there is exact proportionality, for

+the reason that only one set of directly-connected space-relations

+are concerned: the distance of the subtending arc from the subtended

+angle, remains constant—there is no change in the relation between the

+increasing angle and the increasing arc; and therefore the two vary

+together in direct proportion. But it is otherwise with the subtending

+side. The parts of this stand in different relations of distance from

+the subtended angle; and as the line is lengthened, each added part

+differs from the preceding parts in its distance from the angle. That

+is to say, one set of simple directly-connected geometrical relations,

+is here involved with another set; and the relation between the side

+and the angle is such that the law of relative increase involves the

+co-operation of two sets of factors. Now the distinguishing the true

+proportionality (between the angle and the arc) from the relation

+which simulates proportionality (between the angle and the side) is

+just that process of final development of exact conceptions, which

+I assert to be the finishing step of all the preceding development;

+and to be impossible in its absence. And the truth to which my

+assailants shut their eyes, is that, just as among these conceptions of

+space-relations, the conception of exact proportionality can be reached

+only by evolution from the crude notion of proportionality, formed

+before reasoning begins; so, among the force-relations, the conception

+of proportionality finally reached, when simple causes and their

+effects are disentangled by analytical intelligence, can be reached

+only by evolution of the crude notion of proportionality, established

+as a preconception by early experiences which reinforce ancestral

+experiences.

+

+

+

+

+{321}

+

+PROF. GREEN’S EXPLANATIONS.

+

+

+[_From the_ Contemporary Review _for Feb. 1881. It would not have

+occurred to me to reproduce this essay, had it not been that there has

+lately been a reproduction of the essay to which it replies. But as

+Mr. Nettleship, in his editorial capacity, has given a permanent shape

+to Professor Green’s unscrupulous criticism, I am obliged to give a

+permanent shape to the pages which show its unscrupulousness._]

+

+Dreary at best, metaphysical controversy becomes especially dreary

+when it runs into rejoinders and re-rejoinders; and hence I feel some

+hesitation in inflicting, even upon those readers of the _Contemporary_

+who are interested in metaphysical questions, anything further

+concerning Prof. Green’s criticism, Mr. Hodgson’s reply to it, and

+Prof. Green’s explanations. Still, it appears to me that I can now

+hardly let the matter pass without saying something in justification

+of the views attacked by Prof. Green; or, rather, in disproof of the

+allegations he makes against them.

+

+I did not, when Prof. Green’s two articles appeared, think it needful

+to notice them: my wish to avoid hindrance to my work, being supported

+partly by the thought that very few would read a discussion so

+difficult to follow, and partly by the thought that, of the few who

+did read it, most would be those whose knowledge of _The Principles

+of Psychology_ enabled them to see how unlike the argument {322} I

+have used is the representation of it given by Prof. Green, and how

+inapplicable his animadversions therefore are. This last belief was, I

+find, quite erroneous; and I ought to have known better than to form

+it. Experience might have shown me that readers habitually assume a

+critic’s version of an author’s statement to be the true version, and

+that they rarely take the trouble to see whether the meaning ascribed

+to a detached passage is the meaning which it bears when taken with

+the context. Moreover, I should have remembered that in the absence of

+disproofs it is habitually assumed that criticisms are valid; and that

+inability rather than pre-occupation prevents the author from replying.

+I ought not, therefore, to have been surprised to learn, as I did

+from the first paragraph of Mr. Hodgson’s article, that Prof. Green’s

+criticisms had met with considerable acceptance.

+

+I am much indebted to Mr. Hodgson for undertaking the defence of my

+views; and after reading Prof. Green’s rejoinder, it seems to me that

+Mr. Hodgson’s chief allegations remain outstanding. I cannot here, of

+course, follow the controversy point by point. I propose to deal simply

+with the main issues.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+At the close of his answer, Prof. Green refers to “two other

+misapprehensions of a more general nature, which he [Mr. Hodgson]

+alleges against me at the outset of his article.” Not admitting these,

+Prof. Green postpones replies for the present; though by what replies

+he can show his apprehensions to be true ones, I do not see. Further

+misapprehensions of a general nature, which stand as preliminaries to

+his criticisms, may here be instanced, as serving, I think, to show

+that those criticisms are misdirected.

+

+From _The Principles of Psychology_ Prof. Green quotes the following

+sentences:―

+

+  “The relation between these, as antithetically opposed divisions of

+ the {323} entire assemblage of manifestations of the Unknowable, was

+ our datum. The fabric of conclusions built upon it must be unstable

+ if this datum can be proved either untrue or doubtful. Should the

+ idealist be right, the doctrine of evolution is a dream.”

+

+And on these sentences he comments thus:―

+

+ “To those who have humbly accepted the doctrine of evolution as a

+ valuable formulation of our knowledge of animal life, but at the same

+ time think of themselves as ‘idealists,’ this statement may at first

+ cause some uneasiness. On examination, however, they will find in the

+ first place that when Mr. Spencer in such a connection speaks of the

+ doctrine of evolution, he is thinking chiefly of its application to

+ the explanation of knowledge—an application at least not necessarily

+ admitted in the acceptance of it as a theory of animal life.”[44]

+

+From which it appears that Prof. Green’s conception of Evolution is

+that popular conception in which it is identified with that set forth

+in _The Origin of Species_. That my conception of Evolution, referred

+to in the passage he quotes, is a widely different one, would have been

+perceived by him had he referred to the exposition of it contained in

+_First Principles_. My meaning in the passage he quotes is, that since

+Evolution, as I conceive it, is, under certain conditions, the result

+of that universal redistribution of matter and motion which is, and

+ever has been, going on; and since, during those phases of it which are

+distinguishable as astronomic and geologic, the implication is that no

+life, still less consciousness (under any such form as is known to us),

+existed; there is necessarily implied by the theory of Evolution, a

+mode of Being independent of, and antecedent to, the mode of Being we

+now call consciousness. And I implied that, consequently, this theory

+must be a dream, if either ideas are the only existences, or if, as

+Prof. Green appears to think, the object exists only by correlation

+with the subject. How necessary is this more general view as a basis

+for my psychological view, and how erroneous is a criticism which

+ignores it, will be seen on observing that by ignoring it, I am made

+to appear profoundly inconsistent where {324} otherwise there is no

+inconsistency. Prof. Green says that my doctrine―

+

+ “ascribes to the object, which in truth is nothing without the

+ subject, an independent reality, and then supposes it gradually to

+ produce certain qualities in the subject, of which the existence is in

+ truth necessary to the possibility of those qualities in the object

+ which are supposed to produce them.”[45]

+

+On which my comment is that, ascribing, as I do, “an independent

+reality” to the object, and denying that the object is “nothing without

+the subject,” my doctrine, though wholly inconsistent with that of

+Professor Green, is wholly consistent with itself. Had he rightly

+conceived the doctrine of Transfigured Realism (_Prin. of Psy._ §

+473), Prof. Green would have seen that while I hold that the qualities

+of object and subject, as present to consciousness, being resultants

+of the co-operation of object and subject, exist only through their

+co-operation, and, in common with all resultants, must be unlike their

+factors; yet that there pre-exist those factors, and that without them

+no resultants can exist.

+

+Equally fundamental is another preliminary misconception which Prof.

+Green exhibits. He says―

+

+ “We should be sorry to believe that Mr. Spencer and Mr. Lewes regard

+ the relation between consciousness and the world as corresponding to

+ that between two bodies, of which one is inside the other; but apart

+ from some such crude imagination it does not appear, &c.”

+

+Now since I deliberately accept, and have expounded at great

+length, this view which Professor Green does not ascribe to me,

+because he would be “sorry to believe” I entertain such a “crude

+imagination”—since this view is everywhere posited by the doctrine

+of Psychological Evolution as I have set it forth; I am astonished

+at finding it supposed that I hold some other view. Considering that

+Parts II. III. and IV. of the _Principles of Psychology_ are occupied

+with tracing out mental Evolution as a result of converse between

+organism and environment; and {325} considering that throughout Part

+V. the interpretations, analytical instead of synthetical, pre-suppose

+from moment to moment a surrounding world and an included organism;

+I cannot imagine a stranger assumption than that I do not believe

+the relationship between consciousness and the world to be that of

+inclusion of the one by the other. I am aware that Prof. Green does

+not regard me as a coherent thinker; but I scarcely expected he would

+ascribe to me an incoherence so extreme that in Part VI. I abandon the

+fundamental assumption on which all the preceding parts stand, and

+adopt some other. And I should the less have expected so extreme an

+incoherence to be ascribed to me, considering that throughout Part VI.

+this same belief is tacitly implied as part of that realistic belief

+which it is the aim of its argument to explain and justify. Here,

+however, the fact of chief significance is, that as Professor Green

+would be “sorry to believe” I hold the view named, and refrains from

+ascribing to me so “crude an imagination,” it is to be concluded that

+his arguments are directed against some other view which he supposes

+me to hold. If so, one of two conclusions is inevitable. Either his

+criticisms are valid against this other view which he tacitly ascribes

+to me, or they are not. If he admits them to be invalid on the

+assumption that I hold this other view, the matter ends. If he holds

+them to be valid on the assumption that I hold this other view, then

+they must be invalid against the absolutely-different view which I

+actually hold; and again the matter ends.

+

+Even were I to leave off here, I might, I think, say that the

+inapplicability of Prof. Green’s arguments is sufficiently shown;

+but it may be desirable to point out that beyond these general

+misapprehensions, by which they are vitiated, there are special

+misapprehensions. Much to my surprise, considering the careful

+preliminary explanation I have given, he has failed to understand

+the mental attitude assumed by me when describing the synthesis

+of experiences {326} against which he more especially urges his

+objections. In chapters entitled “Partial Differentiation of Subject

+and Object,” “Completed Differentiation of Subject and Object,” and

+“Developed Conception of the Object,” I have endeavoured, as these

+titles imply, to trace up the gradual establishment of this fundamental

+antithesis in a developing intelligence. It appeared to me, and still

+appears, that for coherent thinking there must be excluded at the

+outset, not only whatever implies acquired knowledge of objective

+existence, but also whatever implies acquired knowledge of subjective

+existence. At the close of the chapter preceding those just named, as

+well as in _First Principles_, where this process of differentiation

+was more briefly indicated, I recognized, and emphatically enlarged

+upon, the difficulty of carrying out such an inquiry: pointing out that

+in any attempts we make to observe the way in which subject and object

+become distinguished, we inevitably use those faculties and conceptions

+which have grown up while the differentiation of the two has been going

+on. In trying to discern the initial stages of the process, we carry

+with us all the products which belong to the final stage, and cannot

+free ourselves from them. In _First Principles_ (§ 43) I have pointed

+out that the words _impressions_ and _ideas_, the term _sensation_, the

+phrase _state of consciousness,_ severally involve large systems of

+beliefs; and that if we allow ourselves to recognize their connotations

+we inevitably reason circularly. And in the closing sentence of the

+chapter preceding those above named, I have said―

+

+ “Though in every illustration taken we shall have tacitly to posit an

+ external existence, and in every reference to states of consciousness

+ we shall have to posit an internal existence which has these states;

+ yet, as before, we must ignore these implications.”

+

+I should have thought that, with all these cautions before him, Prof.

+Green would not have fallen into the error of supposing that in the

+argument thereupon commenced, the phrase “states of consciousness” is

+used with all its ordinary implications. I should have thought that,

+as in {327} a note appended to the outset of the argument I have

+referred to the parallel argument in _First Principles_, where I have

+used the phrase “manifestations of existence” instead of “states of

+consciousness,” as the least objectionable; and as the argument in the

+_Psychology_ is definitely described in this note as a re-statement in

+a different form of the argument in _First Principles_; he would have

+seen that in the phrase “states of consciousness,” as used throughout

+this chapter, was to be included no more meaning than was included in

+the phrase “manifestations of existence.”[46] I should have thought

+he would have seen that the purpose of the chapter was passively to

+watch, with no greater intelligence than is implied in watching, how

+the manifestations or states, vivid and faint, comport themselves:

+excluding all thought of their meanings—all interpretations of them.

+Nevertheless, Prof. Green charges me with having, at the outset of the

+examination, invalidated my argument by implying, in the terms I use,

+certain products of developed consciousness.[47] He contends that my

+division of the “states of consciousness,” or, as I elsewhere term

+them, “manifestations of existence,” into vivid and faint, is vitiated

+from the first by including along with the vivid ones those faint ones

+needful to constitute them perceptions, in the ordinary sense of the

+word. Because, describing all I passively watch, I speak of a distant

+{328} head-land, of waves, of boats, &c, he actually supposes me to be

+speaking of those developed cognitions under which these are classed as

+such and such objects. What would he have me do? It is impossible to

+give any such account of the process as I have attempted, without using

+names for things and actions. The various manifestations, vivid and

+faint, which in the case described impose themselves on my receptivity,

+must be indicated in some way; and the words indicating them inevitably

+carry with them their respective connotations. What more can I do than

+warn the reader that all these connotations must be ignored, and that

+attention must be paid exclusively to the manifestations themselves,

+and the modes in which they comport themselves. At the stage described

+in this “partial differentiation,” while I suppose myself as yet

+unconscious of my own individuality and of a world as separate from it,

+the obvious implication is, that what I name “states of consciousness,”

+because this is the current term for them, are to have no

+interpretations whatever put upon them; but that their characters and

+modes of behaviour are to be observed, as they might be while yet there

+had been none of that organization of experiences which makes things

+known in the ordinary sense. It is true that, thus misinterpreting me

+in December, Prof. Green, writing again in March, puts into the mouth

+of an imagined advocate the true statement of my view;[48] though he

+(Prof. Green) then proceeds to deny that I can mean what this imagined

+advocate rightly says I mean: taking occasion to allege that I use the

+phrase “states of consciousness” “to give a philosophical character” to

+what would else seem “written too much after the fashion of a newspaper

+correspondent.”[49] Even, however, had he admitted that intended

+meaning which he sees, but denies, the rectification would have been

+somewhat unsatisfactory, coming three months after various {329}

+absurdities, based on his misinterpretation, had been ascribed to me.

+

+But the most serious allegation made by Mr. Hodgson against Prof.

+Green, and which I here repeat, is that he habitually says I regard

+the object as constituted by “the aggregate of vivid states of

+consciousness,” in face of the conspicuous fact that I identify the

+object with the _nexus_ of this aggregate. In his defence Prof. Green

+says―

+

+ “If I had made any attempt to show that Mr. Spencer believes

+ the object to be no more than an aggregate of vivid states of

+ consciousness, Mr. Hodgson’s complaint, that I ignore certain passages

+ in which a contrary persuasion is stated, would have been to the

+ purpose.”

+

+Let us look at the facts. Treating of the relation between my view and

+the idealistic and sceptical views, he imagines addresses made to me by

+Berkeley and Hume. “‘You agree with me,’ Berkeley might say, ‘that when

+we speak of the external world we are speaking of certain lively ideas

+connected in a certain manner;’”[50] and this identification of the

+world with ideas, I am tacitly represented as accepting. Again, Hume is

+supposed to say to me—“You agree with me that what we call the world

+is a series of impressions;”[51] and here, as before, I am supposed

+silently to acquiesce in this as a true statement of my view. Similarly

+throughout his argument, Prof. Green continually states or implies that

+the object is, in my belief, constituted by the vivid aggregate of

+states of consciousness. At the outset of his second article,[52] he

+says of me:—“He there” [in the _Principles of Psychology_] “identifies

+the object with a certain aggregate of vivid states of consciousness,

+which he makes out to be independent of another aggregate, consisting

+of faint states, and identified with the subject.” And admitting that

+he thus describes my view, he nevertheless alleges that he does not

+misrepresent me, because, as he says,[53] “there is scarcely a page of

+my article in {330} which Mr. Spencer’s conviction of the externality

+and independence of the object, in the various forms in which it is

+stated by him, is not referred to.” But what if it is referred to

+in the process of showing that the externality and independence of

+the object is utterly inconsistent with the conception of it as an

+aggregate of vivid states of consciousness? What if I am continually

+made to seem thus absolutely inconsistent, by omitting the fact that

+not the aggregate of vivid states itself is conceived by me as the

+object, but the _nexus_ binding it together?

+

+A single brief example will typify Prof. Green’s general method of

+procedure. On page 40 of his first article he says—“And in the sequel

+the ‘separation of themselves’ on the part of states of consciousness

+‘into two great aggregates, vivid and faint,’ is spoken of as a

+‘differentiation between the antithetical existences we call object and

+subject.’ If words mean anything, then, Mr. Spencer plainly makes the

+‘object’ an aggregate of conscious states.” But in the entire passage

+from which these words of mine are quoted, which he gives at the bottom

+of the page, a careful reader will observe a word (_omitted_ from Prof.

+Green’s quotation in the text), which quite changes the meaning. I have

+described the result, not as “a differentiation,” but as “a _partial_

+differentiation.” Now, to use Prof. Green’s expression, “if words mean

+anything,” a partial differentiation cannot have the same sense as a

+complete differentiation. If the ‘’object’ has been already constituted

+by this partial differentiation, what does the ‘object’ become when the

+differentiation is completed? Clearly, “if words mean anything,” then,

+had Prof. Green not omitted the word “partial,” it would have been

+manifest that the aggregate of vivid states was _not_ alleged to be the

+object. The mode of treatment which we here see in little, exemplifies

+Prof. Green’s mode of treatment at large. Throughout his two articles

+he criticizes detached portions, and ascribes to them meanings {331}

+quite different from those which they have when joined with the rest.

+

+With the simplicity of “a raw undergraduate” (to some of whose views

+Prof. Green compares some of mine) I had assumed that an argument

+running through three chapters would not be supposed to have its

+conclusion expressed in the first; but now, after the professorial

+lesson I have received, my simplicity will be decreased, and I shall

+be aware that a critic may deal with that which is avowedly partial,

+as though it were entire, and may treat as though it were already

+developed, a conception which the titles of the chapters before him

+show is yet but incipient.

+

+Here I leave the matter, and if anything more is said, shall let it

+pass. Controversy must be cut short, or work must be left undone. I can

+but suggest that metaphysical readers will do well to make their own

+interpretations of my views, rather than to accept without inquiry all

+the interpretations offered them.

+

+

+POSTSCRIPT.—From a note appended by Mr. Nettleship to his republished

+versions of Prof. Green’s articles, it appears that, after the

+foregoing pages were published by me, Prof. Green wrote to the editor

+of the _Contemporary Review_, saying:―

+

+ “While I cannot honestly retract anything in the substance of what I

+ then wrote, there are expressions in the article which I very much

+ regret, so far as they might be taken to imply want of personal

+ respect for Mr. Spencer. For reasons sufficiently given in my reply to

+ Mr. Hodgson, I cannot plead guilty to the charge of misrepresentation

+ which Mr. Spencer repeats; but on reading my first article again in

+ cold blood I found that I had allowed controversial heat to betray

+ me into the use of language which was unbecoming—especially on the

+ part of an unknown writer (not even then a ‘professor’) assailing a

+ veteran philosopher. I make this acknowledgment merely for my own

+ satisfaction, not under the impression that it can at all concern Mr.

+ Spencer” (vol. i., p. 541).

+

+Possibly some of Prof. Green’s adherents will ask how, after he

+has stated that he cannot honestly retract, and that {332} he is

+not guilty of misrepresentation, I can describe his criticism as

+unscrupulous. My reply is that a critic who persists in saying that

+which, on the face of it, is dishonest, and then avers that he cannot

+honestly do otherwise, does not thereby prove his honesty, but

+contrariwise. One who deliberately omits from his quotation the word

+“partial,” and then treats, as though it were complete, that which

+is avowedly incomplete—one who, in dealing with an argument which

+runs through three chapters, recognizes only the first of them—one

+who persists in thinking it proper to do this after the consequent

+distortions of statement have been pointed out to him; is one who,

+if not knowingly dishonest, is lacking in due perception of right

+and wrong in controversy. The only other possible supposition which

+occurs to me, is that such a proceeding is a natural sequence of the

+philosophy to which he adheres. Of course, if Being and non-Being are

+the same, then representation and misrepresentation are the same.

+

+I may add that there is a curious kinship between the ideas implied by

+the letter above quoted and its implied sentiments. Prof. Green says

+that his apology for unbecoming language he makes merely for his “own

+satisfaction.” He does not calm his qualms of conscience by indicating

+his regret to those who read this unbecoming language; nor does he

+express his regret to me, against whom it was vented; but he expresses

+his regret to the editor of the _Contemporary Review_! So that a public

+insult to A is supposed to be cancelled by a private apology to B!

+Here is more Hegelian thinking; or rather, here is Hegelian feeling

+congruous with Hegelian thinking.

+

+

+ENDNOTES TO _PROF. GREEN’S EXPLANATIONS_.

+

+[44] _Contemporary Review_, December, 1877, p. 35.

+

+[45] _Contemporary Review_, December, 1877, p. 37

+

+[46] If I am asked why here I used the phrase “states of consciousness”

+rather than “manifestations of existence,” though I had previously

+preferred the last to the first, I give as my reason the desire

+to maintain continuity of language with the preceding chapter,

+“The Dynamics of Consciousness.” In that chapter an examination

+of consciousness had been made with the view of ascertaining what

+principle of cohesion determines our beliefs, as preliminary to

+observing how this principle operates in establishing the beliefs

+in subject and object. But on proceeding to do this, the phrase

+“state of consciousness” was supposed, like the phrase “manifestation

+of existence,” not to be used as anything more than a name by

+which to distinguish this or that form of being, as an undeveloped

+receptivity would become aware of it, while yet self and not-self were

+undistinguished.

+

+[47] _Contemporary Review_, December, 1877, pp. 49, 50.

+

+[48] _Contemporary Review_, March, 1878, p. 753.

+

+[49] _Ibid._, March, 1878, p. 755.

+

+[50] _Contemporary Review_, December, 1877, p. 44.

+

+[51] _Ibid._, December, 1877, p. 44.

+

+[52] _Ibid._, March, 1878, p. 745.

+

+[53] _Ibid._, January, 1881, p. 115.

+

+

+

+

+{333}

+

+THE PHILOSOPHY OF STYLE.

+

+

+[_First published in_ The Westminster Review _for October 1852._]

+

+Commenting on the seeming incongruity between his father’s

+argumentative powers and his ignorance of formal logic, Tristram

+Shandy says:—“It was a matter of just wonder with my worthy tutor,

+and two or three fellows of that learned society, that a man who knew

+not so much as the names of his tools, should be able to work after

+that fashion with them.” Sterne’s implied conclusion that a knowledge

+of the principles of reasoning neither makes, nor is essential to,

+a good reasoner, is doubtless true. Thus, too, is it with grammar.

+As Dr. Latham, condemning the usual school-drill in Lindley Murray,

+rightly remarks:—“Gross vulgarity is a fault to be prevented; but the

+proper prevention is to be got from habit—not rules.” Similarly, good

+composition is far less dependent on acquaintance with its laws, than

+on practice and natural aptitude. A clear head, a quick imagination,

+and a sensitive ear, will go far towards making all rhetorical precepts

+needless. And where there exists any mental flaw—where there is a

+deficient verbal memory, or an inadequate sense of logical dependence,

+or but little perception of order, or a lack of constructive ingenuity;

+no amount of instruction will insure good writing. Nevertheless, _some_

+result may be expected from a familiarity {334} with the principles of

+style. The endeavour to conform to laws may tell, though slowly. And

+if in no other way, yet, as facilitating revision, a knowledge of the

+thing to be achieved—a clear idea of what constitutes a beauty, and

+what a blemish—cannot fail to be of service.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+No general theory of expression seems yet to have been enunciated. The

+maxims contained in works on composition and rhetoric, are presented

+in an unorganized form. Standing as isolated dogmas—as empirical

+generalizations, they are neither so clearly apprehended, nor so much

+respected, as they would be were they deduced from some simple first

+principle. We are told that “brevity is the soul of wit.” We hear

+styles condemned as verbose or involved. Blair says that every needless

+part of a sentence “interrupts the description and clogs the image;”

+and again, that “long sentences fatigue the reader’s attention.” It is

+remarked by Lord Kaimes that, “to give the utmost force to a period,

+it ought, if possible, to be closed with the word that makes the

+greatest figure.” Avoidance of parentheses, and the use of Saxon words

+in preference to those of Latin origin, are often insisted upon. But,

+however influential the precepts thus dogmatically expressed, they

+would be much more influential if reduced to something like scientific

+ordination. In this as in other cases, conviction is strengthened when

+we understand the _why_. And we may be sure that recognition of the

+general principle from which the rules of composition result, will not

+only bring them home to us with greater force, but will disclose other

+rules of like origin.

+

+On seeking for some clue to the law underlying these current maxims,

+we may see implied in many of them, the importance of economizing the

+reader’s or hearer’s attention. To so present ideas that they may be

+apprehended with the least possible mental effort, is the desideratum

+towards which most of the rules above quoted point. When we {335}

+condemn writing that is wordy, or confused, or intricate—when we

+praise this style as easy, and blame that as fatiguing, we consciously

+or unconsciously assume this desideratum as our standard of judgment.

+Regarding language as an apparatus of symbols for conveying thought,

+we may say that, as in a mechanical apparatus, the more simple and the

+better arranged its parts, the greater will be the effect produced.

+In either case, whatever force is absorbed by the machine is deducted

+from the result. A reader or listener has at each moment but a limited

+amount of mental power available. To recognize and interpret the

+symbols presented to him, requires part of this power; to arrange and

+combine the images suggested by them requires a further part; and only

+that part which remains can be used for framing the thought expressed.

+Hence, the more time and attention it takes to receive and understand

+each sentence, the less time and attention can be given to the

+contained idea; and the less vividly will that idea be conceived. How

+truly language must be regarded as a hindrance to thought, though the

+necessary instrument of it, we shall clearly perceive on remembering

+the comparative force with which simple ideas are communicated by

+signs. To say, “Leave the room,” is less expressive than to point

+to the door. Placing a finger on the lips is more forcible than

+whispering, “Do not speak.” A beck of the hand is better than, “Come

+here.” No phrase can convey the idea of surprise so vividly as opening

+the eyes and raising the eyebrows. A shrug of the shoulders would

+lose much by translation into words. Again, it may be remarked that

+when oral language is employed, the strongest effects are produced by

+interjections, which condense entire sentences into syllables. And

+in other cases, where custom allows us to express thoughts by single

+words, as in _Beware_, _Heigho_, _Fudge_, much force would be lost by

+expanding them into specific propositions. Hence, carrying out the

+metaphor that {336} language is the vehicle of thought, we may say

+that in all cases the friction and inertia of the vehicle deduct from

+its efficiency; and that in composition, the chief thing to be done,

+is, to reduce the friction and inertia to the smallest amounts. Let

+us then inquire whether economy of the recipient’s attention is not

+the secret of effect, alike in the right choice and collocation of

+words, in the best arrangement of clauses in a sentence, in the proper

+order of its principal and subordinate propositions, in the judicious

+use of simile, metaphor, and other figures of speech, and even in the

+rhythmical sequence of syllables.

+

+The greater forcibleness of Saxon English, or rather non-Latin English,

+first claims our attention. The several special reasons assignable

+for this may all be reduced to the general reason—economy. The most

+important of them is early association. A child’s vocabulary is

+almost wholly Saxon. He says, _I have_, not _I possess_—_I wish_,

+not _I desire_; he does not _reflect_, he _thinks_; he does not beg

+for _amusement_, but for _play_; he calls things _nice_ or _nasty_,

+not _pleasant_ or _disagreeable_. The synonyms learned in after

+years, never become so closely, so organically, connected with the

+ideas signified, as do these original words used in childhood; the

+association remains less strong. But in what does a strong association

+between a word and an idea differ from a weak one? Essentially in the

+greater ease and rapidity of the suggestive action. Both of two words,

+if they be strictly synonymous, eventually call up the same image.

+The expression—It is _acid_, must in the end give rise to the same

+thought as—It is _sour_; but because the term _acid_ was learnt later

+in life, and has not been so often followed by the ideal sensation

+symbolized, it does not so readily arouse that ideal sensation as the

+term _sour_. If we remember how slowly the meanings follow unfamiliar

+words in another language, and how increasing familiarity with them

+brings greater rapidity and ease of comprehension; and if we consider

+that the {337} like effect must have resulted from using the words of

+our mother tongue from childhood upwards; we shall clearly see that the

+earliest learnt and oftenest used words, will, other things equal, call

+up images with less loss of time and energy than their later learnt

+equivalents.

+

+The further superiority possessed by Saxon English in its comparative

+brevity, obviously comes under the same generalization. If it be an

+advantage to express an idea in the smallest number of words, then

+it must be an advantage to express it in the smallest number of

+syllables. If circuitous phrases and needless expletives distract

+the attention and diminish the strength of the impression produced,

+then so, too, must surplus articulations. A certain effort, though

+commonly an inappreciable one, is required to recognize every vowel

+and consonant. If, as all know, it is tiresome to listen to an

+indistinct speaker, or to read an ill-written manuscript; and if, as

+we cannot doubt, the fatigue is a cumulative result of the attention

+needed to catch successive syllables; it follows that attention is

+in such cases absorbed by each syllable. And this being so when the

+syllables are difficult of recognition, it will be so too, though

+in a less degree, when the recognition of them is easy. Hence, the

+shortness of Saxon words becomes a reason for their greater force. One

+qualification, however, must not be overlooked. A word which embodies

+the most important part of the idea to be conveyed, especially when

+emotion is to be produced, may often with advantage be a polysyllabic

+word. Thus it seems more forcible to say—“It is _magnificent_,”

+than—“It is _grand_.” The word _vast_ is not so powerful a one as

+_stupendous_. Calling a thing _nasty_ is not so effective as calling

+it _disgusting_. There seem to be several causes for this exceptional

+superiority of certain long words. We may ascribe it partly to the

+fact that a voluminous, mouth-filling epithet is, by its very size,

+suggestive of largeness or strength, as is shown by the pomposity of

+sesquipedalian verbiage; and when great power or {338} intensity has

+to be suggested, this association of ideas aids the effect. A further

+cause may be that a word of several syllables admits of more emphatic

+articulation; and as emphatic articulation is a sign of emotion,

+the unusual impressiveness of the thing named is implied by it. Yet

+another cause is that a long word (of which the latter syllables

+are generally inferred as soon as the first are spoken) allows the

+hearer’s consciousness more time to dwell on the quality predicated;

+and where, as in the above cases, it is to this predicated quality that

+the entire attention is called, an advantage results from keeping it

+before the mind for an appreciable interval. To make our generalization

+quite correct we must therefore say, that while in certain sentences

+expressing feeling, the word which more especially implies that

+feeling may often with advantage be a many-syllabled one; in the

+immense majority of cases, each word, serving but as a step to the

+idea embodied by the whole sentence, should, if possible, be a single

+syllable.

+

+Once more, that frequent cause of strength in Saxon and other primitive

+words—their onomatopœia, may be similarly resolved into the more

+general cause. Both those directly imitative, as _splash_,_bang_,

+_whiz_, _roar_, &c., and those analogically imitative, as _rough_,

+_smooth_, _keen_, _blunt_, _thin_, _hard_, _crag_, &c., have a greater

+or less likeness to the things symbolized; and by making on the ears

+impressions allied to the ideas to be called up, they save part of the

+effort needed to call up such ideas, and leave more attention for the

+ideas themselves.

+

+Economy of the recipient’s mental energy may be assigned, too, as a

+manifest cause for the superiority of specific over generic words.

+That concrete terms produce more vivid impressions than abstract

+ones, and should, when possible, be used instead, is a current maxim

+of composition. As Dr. Campbell says, “The more general the terms

+are, the picture is the fainter; the more special {339} they are, the

+brighter.” When aiming at effect we should avoid such a sentence as:

+

+―― When the manners, customs, and amusements of a nation are cruel and

+barbarous, the regulations of their penal code will be severe.

+

+And in place of it we should write:

+

+―― When men delight in battles, bull-fights, and combats of gladiators,

+will they punish by hanging, burning, and the rack.

+

+This superiority of specific expressions is clearly due to a saving

+of the effort required to translate words into thoughts. As we do not

+think in generals but in particulars—as, whenever any class of things

+is named, we represent it to ourselves by calling to mind individual

+members of the class; it follows that when a general word is used, the

+hearer or reader has to choose from his stock of images, one or more,

+by which he may figure to himself the whole group. In doing this,

+some delay must arise—some force be expended; and if, by employing

+a specific term, an appropriate image can be at once suggested, an

+economy is achieved, and a more vivid impression produced.

+

+Turning now from the choice of words to their sequence, we find the

+same principle hold good. We have _a priori_ reasons for believing that

+there is some one order of words by which every proposition may be more

+effectively expressed than by any other; and that this order is the

+one which presents the elements of the proposition in the succession

+in which they may be most readily put together. As in a narrative, the

+events should be stated in such sequence that the mind may not have to

+go backwards and forwards in order to rightly connect them; as in a

+group of sentences, the arrangement should be such that each of them

+may be understood as it comes, without waiting for subsequent ones; so

+in every sentence, the sequence of words should be that which suggests

+the constituents of the thought in the order most convenient for

+building it {340} up. Duly to enforce this truth, and to prepare the

+way for applications of it, we must analyze the mental act by which the

+meaning of a series of words is apprehended.

+

+We cannot more simply do this than by considering the proper

+collocation of substantive and adjective. Is it better to place the

+adjective before the substantive, or the substantive before the

+adjective? Ought we to say with the French—_un cheval noir_; or to say

+as we do—a black horse? Probably, most persons of culture will say

+that one order is as good as the other. Alive to the bias produced by

+habit, they will ascribe to that the preference they feel for our own

+form of expression. They will expect those educated in the use of the

+opposite form to have an equal preference for that. And thus they will

+conclude that neither of these instinctive judgments is of any worth.

+There is, however, a psychological ground for deciding in favour of the

+English custom. If “a horse black” be the arrangement, then immediately

+on the utterance of the word “horse,” there arises, or tends to arise,

+in the mind, an idea answering to that word; and as there has been

+nothing to indicate what _kind_ of horse, any image of a horse suggests

+itself. Very likely, however, the image will be that of a brown horse:

+brown horses being the most familiar. The result is that when the word

+“black” is added, a check is given to the process of thought. Either

+the picture of a brown horse already present to the imagination has to

+be suppressed, and the picture of a black one summoned in its place;

+or else, if the picture of a brown horse be yet unformed, the tendency

+to form it has to be stopped. Whichever is the case, some hindrance

+results. But if, on the other hand, “a black horse” be the expression

+used, no mistake can be made. The word “black,” indicating an abstract

+quality, arouses no definite idea. It simply prepares the mind for

+conceiving some object of that colour; and the attention is kept

+suspended until that object is known. If, then, by {341} precedence of

+the adjective, the idea is always conveyed rightly, whereas precedence

+of the substantive is apt to produce a misconception; it follows that

+the one gives the mind less trouble than the other, and is therefore

+more forcible.

+

+Possibly it will be objected that the adjective and substantive come

+so close together, that practically they may be considered as uttered

+at the same moment; and that on hearing the phrase, “a horse black,”

+there is not time to imagine a wrongly coloured horse before the word

+“black” follows to prevent it. It must be owned that it is not easy

+to decide by introspection whether this is so or not. But there are

+facts collaterally implying that it is not. Our ability to anticipate

+the words yet unspoken is one of them. If the ideas of the hearer

+lingered behind the expressions of the speaker, as the objection

+assumes, he could hardly foresee the end of a sentence by the time it

+was half delivered; yet this constantly happens. Were the supposition

+true, the mind, instead of anticipating, would fall more and more

+in arrear. If the meanings of words are not realized as fast as the

+words are uttered, then the loss of time over each word must entail an

+accumulation of delays and leave a hearer entirely behind. But whether

+the force of these replies be or be not admitted, it will scarcely be

+denied that the right formation of a picture must be facilitated by

+presenting its elements in the order in which they are wanted; even

+though the mind should do nothing until it has received them all.

+

+What is here said respecting the succession of the adjective and

+substantive is applicable, by change of terms, to the adverb and verb.

+And without further explanation, it will be manifest, that in the use

+of prepositions and other particles, most languages spontaneously

+conform with more or less completeness to this law.

+

+On similarly analyzing sentence considered as vehicles for entire

+propositions, we find not only that the same principle holds good,

+but that the advantage of respecting {342} it becomes marked. In the

+arrangement of predicate and subject, for example, we are at once shown

+that as the predicate determines the aspect under which the subject is

+to be conceived, it should be placed first; and the striking effect

+produced by so placing it becomes comprehensible. Take the often-quoted

+contrast between—“Great is Diana of the Ephesians,” and—“Diana of

+the Ephesians is great.” When the first arrangement is used, the

+utterance of the word “great,” arousing vague associations of an

+imposing nature prepares the imagination to clothe with high attributes

+whatever follows; and when the words, “Diana of the Ephesians” are

+heard, appropriate imagery already nascent in thought, is used in the

+formation of the picture: the mind being thus led directly, and without

+error, to the intended impression. But when the reverse order is

+followed, the idea, “Diana of the Ephesians,” is formed with no special

+reference to greatness; and when the words, “is great,” are added,

+it has to be formed afresh; whence arises a loss of mental energy,

+and a corresponding diminution of effect. The following verse from

+Coleridge’s “Ancient Mariner,” though incomplete as a sentence, well

+illustrates the same truth.

+

+ “_Alone, alone, all, all alone,_

+  _Alone on a wide wide sea!_

+  _And never a saint took pity on_

+  _My soul in agony.”_

+

+Of course the principle equally applies when the predicate is a

+verb or a participle. And as effect is gained by placing first all

+words indicating the quality, conduct, or condition of the subject,

+it follows that the copula also should have precedence. It is true,

+that the general habit of our language resists this arrangement of

+predicate, copula, and subject; but we may readily find instances of

+the additional force gained by conforming to it. Thus in the line from

+“Julius Cæsar”―

+

+ “Then _burst_ his mighty heart,”

+

+priority is given to a word embodying both predicate and {343} copula.

+In a passage contained in Sir W. Scott’s “Marmion,” the like order is

+systematically employed with great effect:

+

+ “The Border slogan rent the sky!

+ _A Home! a Gordon! was_ the cry;

+ _Loud were_ the clanging blows;

+ _Advanced,—forced back,—now low, now high,_

+   The pennon sunk and rose;

+ As _bends_ the bark’s mast in the gale

+ When _rent are_ rigging, shrouds, and sail,

+   It waver’d ’mid the foes.”

+

+Pursuing the principle further, it is obvious that for producing the

+greatest effect, not only should the main divisions of a sentence

+observe this sequence, but the sub-divisions of these should have

+their parts similarly arranged. In nearly all cases, the predicate

+is accompanied by some limit or qualification called its complement.

+Commonly, also, the circumstances of the subject, which form its

+complement, have to be specified. And as these qualifications and

+circumstances must determine the mode in which the acts and things

+they belong to are conceived, precedence should be given to them. Lord

+Kaimes notices the fact that this order is preferable; though without

+giving the reason. He says:—“When a circumstance is placed at the

+beginning of the period, or near the beginning, the transition from

+it to the principal subject is agreeable: is like ascending or going

+upward.” A sentence arranged in illustration of this will be desirable.

+Here is one:

+

+―― Whatever it may be in theory, it is clear that in practice the

+French idea of liberty is—the right of every man to be master of the

+rest.

+

+In this case, were the first two clauses, up to the word “practice”

+inclusive, which qualify the subject, to be placed at the end instead

+of the beginning, much of the force would be lost; as thus:

+

+―― The French idea of liberty is—the right of every man to be master of

+the rest; in practice at least, if not in theory.

+

+Similarly with respect to the conditions under which any {344} fact is

+predicated. Observe in the following example the effect of putting them

+last:

+

+―― How immense would be the stimulus to progress, were the honour now

+given to wealth and title given exclusively to high achievements and

+intrinsic worth!

+

+And then observe the superior effect of putting them first:

+

+―― Were the honour now given to wealth and title given exclusively

+to high achievements and intrinsic worth, how immense would be the

+stimulus to progress!

+

+The effect of giving priority to the complement of the predicate, as

+well as the predicate itself, is finely displayed in the opening of

+“Hyperion:”

+

+ “_Deep in the shady sadness of a vale_

+  _Far sunken from the healthy breath of morn,_

+  _Far from the fiery noon, and eve’s one star,_

+  _Sat_ grey-haired Saturn, quiet as a stone.”

+

+Here we see, not only that the predicate “sat” precedes the subject

+“Saturn,” and that the three lines in italics, constituting the

+complement of the predicate, come before it; but that in the structure

+of this complement also, the same order is followed: each line being

+so composed that the qualifying words are placed before the words

+suggesting concrete images.

+

+The right succession of the principal and subordinate propositions

+in a sentence depends on the same law. Regard for economy of the

+recipient’s attention, which, as we find, determines the best order

+for the subject, copula, predicate, and their complements, dictates

+that the subordinate proposition shall precede the principal one, when

+the sentence includes two. Containing, as the subordinate proposition

+does, some qualifying or explanatory idea, its priority prevents

+misconception of the principal one; and therefore saves the mental

+effort needed to correct such misconception. This will be seen in the

+annexed example.

+

+―― The secrecy once maintained in respect to the parliamentary debates,

+is still thought needful in diplomacy; and diplomacy being secret,

+England may any day be {345} unawares betrayed by its ministers into

+a war costing a hundred thousand lives, and hundreds of millions of

+treasure: yet the English pique themselves on being a self-governed

+people.

+

+The two subordinate propositions, ending with the semicolon and colon

+respectively, almost wholly determine the meaning of the principal

+proposition with which the sentence concludes; and the effect would be

+lost were they placed last instead of first.

+

+From this general principle of right arrangement may also be inferred

+the proper order of those minor divisions into which the major

+divisions of sentences may be decomposed. In every sentence of any

+complexity the complement to the subject contains several clauses,

+and that to the predicate several others; and these may be arranged

+in greater or less conformity to the law of easy apprehension. Of

+course with these, as with the larger members, the succession should be

+from the less specific to the more specific—from the abstract to the

+concrete.

+

+Now however we must notice a further condition to be fulfilled in the

+proper construction of a sentence; but still a condition dictated by

+the same general principle with the other: the condition, namely,

+that the words or the expressions which refer to the most nearly

+connected thoughts shall be brought the closest together. Evidently

+the single words, the minor clauses, and the leading divisions of

+every proposition, severally qualify each other. The longer the time

+that elapses between the mention of any qualifying member and the

+member qualified, the longer must the mind be exerted in carrying

+forward the qualifying member ready for use. And the more numerous the

+qualifications to be simultaneously remembered and rightly applied,

+the greater will be the mental power expended, and the smaller the

+effect produced. Hence, other things equal, force will be gained by

+so arranging the members of a sentence that these suspensions shall

+at any moment be the fewest in {346} number; and shall also be of

+the shortest duration. The following is an instance of defective

+combination.

+

+―― A modern newspaper-statement, though probably true, would be laughed

+at, if quoted in a book as testimony; but the letter of a court gossip

+is thought good historical evidence, if written some centuries ago.

+

+A re-arrangement of this, in accordance with the principle indicated

+above, will be found to increase the effect. Thus:

+

+―― Though probably true, a modern newspaper-statement quoted in a book

+as testimony, would be laughed at; but the letter of a court gossip, if

+written some centuries ago, is thought good historical evidence.

+

+By making this change, some of the suspensions are avoided and

+others shortened; while there is less liability to produce premature

+conceptions. The passage quoted below from “Paradise Lost” affords a

+fine instance of a sentence well arranged; alike in the priority of the

+subordinate members, in the avoidance of long and numerous suspensions,

+and in the correspondence between the sequence of the clauses and the

+sequence of the phenomena described, which, by the way, is a further

+prerequisite to easy apprehension, and therefore to effect.

+

+                   “As when a prowling wolf,

+ Whom hunger drives to seek new haunt for prey,

+ Watching where shepherds pen their flocks at eve,

+ In hurdled cotes amid the field secure,

+ Leaps o’er the fence with ease into the fold:

+ Or as a thief, bent to unhoard the cash

+ Of some rich burgher, whose substantial doors,

+ Cross-barr’d and bolted fast, fear no assault,

+ In at the window climbs, or o’er the tiles:

+ So clomb the first grand Thief into God’s fold;

+ So since into his Church lewd hirelings climb.”

+

+The habitual use of sentences in which all or most of the descriptive

+and limiting elements precede those described and limited, gives rise

+to what is called the inverted style: a title which is, however, by no

+means confined to this {347} structure, but is often used where the

+order of the words is simply unusual. A more appropriate title would be

+the _direct style_, as contrasted with the other, or _indirect style_:

+the peculiarity of the one being, that it conveys each thought step by

+step with little liability to error; and of the other, that it conveys

+each thought by a series of approximations, which successively correct

+the erroneous preconceptions that have been raised.

+

+The superiority of the direct over the indirect form of sentence,

+implied by the several conclusions above drawn, must not, however, be

+affirmed without reservation. Though, up to a certain point, it is well

+for the qualifying clauses of a proposition to precede those qualified;

+yet, as carrying forward each qualifying clause costs some mental

+effort, it follows that when the number of them and the time they are

+carried become great, we reach a limit beyond which more is lost than

+is gained. Other things equal, the arrangement should be such that no

+concrete image shall be suggested until the materials out of which it

+is to be framed have been presented. And yet, as lately pointed out,

+other things equal, the fewer the materials to be held at once, and the

+shorter the distance they have to be borne, the better. Hence in some

+cases it becomes a question whether most mental effort will be entailed

+by the many and long suspensions, or by the correction of successive

+misconceptions.

+

+This question may sometimes be decided by considering the capacity

+of the persons addressed. A greater grasp of mind is required for

+the ready apprehension of thoughts expressed in the direct manner,

+where the sentences are anywise intricate. To recollect a number of

+preliminaries stated in elucidation of a coming idea, and to apply

+them all to the formation of it when suggested, demands a good memory

+and considerable power of concentration. To one possessing these, the

+direct method will mostly seem the best; while to one deficient in

+them it will seem the worst. {348} Just as it may cost a strong man

+less effort to carry a hundred-weight from place to place at once,

+than by a stone at a time; so, to an active mind it may be easier to

+bear along all the qualifications of an idea and at once rightly form

+it when named, than to first imperfectly conceive such idea, and then

+carry back to it, one by one, the details and limitations afterwards

+mentioned. While conversely, as for a boy the only possible mode of

+transferring a hundred-weight, is that of taking it in portions;

+so, for a weak mind, the only possible mode of forming a compound

+conception may be that of building it up by carrying separately its

+several parts.

+

+That the indirect method—the method of conveying the meaning by

+a series of approximations—is best fitted for the uncultivated,

+may indeed be inferred from their habitual use of it. The form

+of expression adopted by the savage, as in—“Water, give me,” is

+the simplest type of this arrangement. In pleonasms, which are

+comparatively prevalent among the uneducated, the same essential

+structure is seen; as, for instance in—“The men, they were there.”

+Again, the old possessive case—“The king, his crown,” conforms to

+the like order of thought. Moreover, the fact that the indirect mode

+is called the natural one, implies that it is the one spontaneously

+employed by the common people; that is—the one easiest for

+undisciplined minds.

+

+There are many cases, however, in which neither the direct nor the

+indirect mode is the best; but in which an intermediate mode is

+preferable to both. When the number of circumstances and qualifications

+to be included in the sentence is great, the judicious course is

+neither to enumerate them all before introducing the idea to which they

+belong, nor to put this idea first and let it be remodelled to agree

+with the particulars afterwards mentioned; but to do a little of each.

+It is desirable to avoid so extremely indirect an arrangement as the

+following:―

+

+―― “We came to our journey’s end, at last, with no {349} small

+difficulty, after much fatigue, through deep roads, and bad weather.”

+

+Yet to transform this into an entirely direct sentence would be

+unadvisable; as witness:―

+

+―― At last, with no small difficulty, after much fatigue, through deep

+roads, and bad weather, we came to our journey’s end.

+

+Dr. Whately, from whom we quote the first of these two arrangements,

+proposes this construction:―

+

+―― “At last, after much fatigue, through deep roads and bad weather, we

+came, with no small difficulty, to our journey’s end.”

+

+Here by introducing the words “we came” a little earlier in the

+sentence, the labour of carrying forward so many particulars is

+diminished, and the subsequent qualification “with no small difficulty”

+entails an addition to the thought that is easily made. But a

+further improvement may be effected by putting the words “we came”

+still earlier; especially if at the same time the qualifications be

+rearranged in conformity with the principle already explained, that

+the more abstract elements of the thought should come before the more

+concrete. Observe the result of making these two changes:

+

+―― At last, with no small difficulty, and after much fatigue, we came,

+through deep roads and bad weather, to our journey’s end.

+

+This reads with comparative smoothness; that is—with less hindrance

+from suspensions and reconstructions of thought.

+

+It should be further remarked, that even when addressing vigorous

+intellects, the direct mode is unfit for communicating ideas of a

+complex or abstract character. So long as the mind has not much to

+do, it may be well able to grasp all the preparatory clauses of a

+sentence, and to use them effectively; but if some subtlety in the

+argument absorb the attention it may happen that the mind, doubly {350}

+strained, will break down, and allow the elements of the thought to

+lapse into confusion.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Let us pass now to figures of speech. In them we may equally discern

+the same general law of effect. Implied in rules given for the

+choice and right use of them, we shall find the same fundamental

+requirement—economy of attention. It is indeed chiefly because they so

+well subserve this requirement, that figures of speech are employed.

+

+Let us begin with the figure called Synecdoche. The advantage sometimes

+gained by putting a part for the whole, is due to the more convenient,

+or more vivid, presentation of the idea. If, instead of writing “a

+fleet of ten ships,” we write “a fleet of ten _sail_,” the picture

+of a group of vessels at sea is more readily suggested; and is so

+because the sails constitute the most conspicuous parts of vessels so

+circumstanced. To say, “All _hands_ to the pumps,” is better than to

+say, “All _men_ to the pumps;” as it calls up a picture of the men in

+the special attitude intended, and so saves effort. Bringing “_grey

+hairs_ with sorrow to the grave,” is another expression, the effect of

+which has the same cause.

+

+The effectiveness of Metonymy may be similarly accounted for. “The low

+morality of _the bar_,” is a phrase both more brief and significant

+than the literal one it stands for. A belief in the ultimate supremacy

+of intelligence over brute force, is conveyed in a more concrete form,

+and therefore more representable form, if we substitute _the pen_ and

+_the sword_ for the two abstract terms. To say, “Beware of drinking!”

+is less effective than to say, “Beware of _the bottle_!” and is so,

+clearly because it calls up a less specific image.

+

+The Simile is in many cases used chiefly with a view to ornament; but

+whenever it increases the _force_ of a passage, it does so by being an

+economy. Here is an instance.

+

+―― The illusion that great men and great events came {351} oftener

+in early times than they come now, is due partly to historical

+perspective. As in a range of equidistant columns, the furthest off

+seem the closest; so, the conspicuous objects of the past seem more

+thickly clustered the more remote they are.

+

+To express literally the thought thus conveyed, would take many

+sentences; and the first elements of the picture would become faint

+while the imagination was busy in adding the others. But by the help of

+a comparison much of the effort otherwise required is saved.

+

+Concerning the position of the Simile,[54] it needs only to

+remark, that what has been said about the order of the adjective

+and substantive, predicate and subject, principal and subordinate

+propositions, &c., is applicable here. As whatever qualifies should

+precede whatever is qualified, force will generally be gained by

+placing the simile before the object or act to which it is applied.

+That this arrangement is the best, may be seen in the following passage

+from the “Lady of the Lake:”―

+

+ “As wreath of snow, on mountain breast,

+ Slides from the rock that gave it rest,

+ Poor Ellen glided from her stay,

+ And at the monarch’s feet she lay.”

+

+Inverting these couplets will be found to diminish the effect

+considerably. There are cases, however, even where the simile is a

+simple one, in which it may with advantage be placed last; as in these

+lines from Alexander Smith’s “Life Drama:”―

+

+             “I see the future stretch

+ All dark and barren as a rainy sea.”

+

+The reason for this seems to be, that so abstract an idea as that

+attaching to the word “future,” does not present {352} itself to the

+mind in any definite form; and hence the subsequent arrival at the

+simile entails no reconstruction of the thought.

+

+Such however are not the only cases in which this order is the more

+forcible. As putting the simile first is advantageous only when it is

+carried forward in the mind to assist in forming an image of the object

+or act; it must happen that if, from length or complexity, it cannot be

+so carried forward, the advantage is not gained. The annexed sonnet, by

+Coleridge, is defective from this cause.

+

+ “As when a child, on some long winter’s night,

+ Affrighted, clinging to its grandam’s knees,

+ With eager wond’ring and perturb’d delight

+ Listens strange tales of fearful dark decrees,

+ Mutter’d to wretch by necromantic spell;

+ Or of those hags who at the witching time

+ Of murky midnight, ride the air sublime,

+ And mingle foul embrace with fiends of hell;

+ Cold horror drinks its blood! Anon the tear

+ More gentle starts, to hear the beldame tell

+ Of pretty babes, that lov’d each other dear,

+ Murder’d by cruel uncle’s mandate fell:

+ Ev’n such the shiv’ring joys thy tones impart,

+ Ev’n so, thou, Siddons, meltest my sad heart.”

+

+Here, from the lapse of time and accumulation of circumstances,

+the first member of the comparison is forgotten before the second

+is reached; and requires re-reading. Had the main idea been first

+mentioned, less effort would have been required to retain it, and to

+modify the conception of it into harmony with the illustrative ideas,

+than to remember the illustrative ideas, and refer back to them for

+help in forming the final image.

+

+The superiority of the Metaphor to the Simile is ascribed by Dr.

+Whately to the fact that “all men are more gratified at catching the

+resemblance for themselves, than in having it pointed out to them.” But

+after what has been said, the great economy it achieves will seem the

+more probable cause. Lear’s exclamation―

+

+ “Ingratitude! thou marble-hearted fiend,” {353}

+

+would lose part of its effect were it changed into―

+

+ “Ingratitude! thou fiend with heart like marble;”

+

+and the loss would result partly from the position of the simile and

+partly from the extra number of words required. When the comparison is

+an involved one, the greater force of the metaphor, due to its relative

+brevity, becomes much more conspicuous. If, drawing an analogy between

+mental and physical phenomena, we say,

+

+―― As, in passing through a crystal, beams of white light are

+decomposed into the colours of the rainbow; so, in traversing the

+soul of the poet, the colourless rays of truth are transformed into

+brightly-tinted poetry;―― it is clear that in receiving the two sets

+of words expressing the two halves of the comparison, and in carrying

+the meaning of the one to help in interpreting the other, considerable

+attention is absorbed. Most of this is saved by putting the comparison

+in a metaphorical form, thus:―

+

+―― The white light of truth, in traversing the many-sided transparent

+soul of the poet, is refracted into iris-hued poetry. How much is

+conveyed in a few words by using Metaphor, and how vivid the effect

+consequently produced, is everywhere shown. From “A Life Drama” may be

+quoted the phrase,

+

+ “I spear’d him with a jest,”

+

+as a fine instance among the many which that poem contains. A passage

+in the “Prometheus Unbound,” of Shelley, displays the power of the

+metaphor to great advantage.

+

+       “Methought among the lawns together

+ We wandered, underneath the young gray dawn,

+ And multitudes of dense white fleecy clouds

+ Were wandering in thick flocks along the mountains

+ _Shepherded_ by the slow unwilling wind.”

+

+This last expression is remarkable for the distinctness with which it

+calls up the features of the scene; bringing the mind by a bound to the

+desired conception.

+

+But a limit is put to the advantageous use of Metaphor, {354} by the

+condition that it must be simple enough to be understood from a hint.

+Evidently, if there be any obscurity in the meaning or application of

+it, no economy of attention will be achieved; but rather the reverse.

+Hence, when the comparison is complex, it is better to put it in the

+form of a Simile. There is, however, a species of figure, sometimes

+classed under Allegory, but which might well be called Compound

+Metaphor, that enables us to retain the brevity of the metaphorical

+form even where the analogy is intricate. This is done by indicating

+the application of the figure at the outset, and then leaving the

+reader or hearer to continue the parallel. Emerson has employed it with

+great effect in the first of his _Lectures on the Times_.

+

+ “The main interest which any aspects of the Times can have for us, is

+ the great spirit which gazes through them, the light which they can

+ shed on the wonderful questions, What are we? and Whither do we tend?

+ We do not wish to be deceived. Here we drift, like white sail across

+ the wild ocean, now bright on the wave, now darkling in the trough of

+ the sea; but from what port did we sail? Who knows? Or to what port

+ are we bound? Who knows? There is no one to tell us but such poor

+ weather-tossed mariners as ourselves, whom we speak as we pass, or who

+ have hoisted some signal, or floated to us some letter in a bottle

+ from afar. But what know they more than we? They also found themselves

+ on this wondrous sea. No; from the older sailors nothing. Over all

+ their speaking-trumpets the gray sea and the loud winds answer—Not in

+ us; not in Time.”

+

+The division of Simile from Metaphor is by no means definite. Between

+the one extreme in which the two elements of the comparison are

+detailed at full length and the analogy pointed out, and the other

+extreme in which the comparison is implied instead of stated, come

+intermediate forms, in which the comparison is partly stated and partly

+implied. For instance:―

+

+―― Astonished at the performances of the English plough, the Hindoos

+paint it, set it up, and worship it; thus turning a tool into an idol.

+Linguists do the same with language.—Here there is an evident advantage

+in leaving the reader or hearer to complete the figure. And generally

+these {355} intermediate forms are good in proportion as they do this;

+provided the mode of completion be obvious.

+

+Passing over much that may be said of like purport on Hyperbole,

+Personification, Apostrophe, &c., let us close our remarks on

+construction by a typical example of effective expression. The general

+principle which has been enunciated is that, other things equal, the

+force of a verbal form or arrangement is great, in proportion as the

+mental effort demanded from the recipient is small. The corollaries

+from this general principle have been severally illustrated. But

+though conformity now to this and now to that requirement has been

+exemplified, no case of entire conformity has yet been quoted. It is

+indeed difficult to find one; for the English idiom does not commonly

+permit the order which theory dictates. A few, however, occur in

+Ossian. Here is one:―

+

+ “Like autumn’s dark storms pouring from two echoing hills, towards

+ each other approached the heroes. Like two deep streams from high

+ rocks meeting, mixing, roaring on the plain: loud, rough, and dark in

+ battle meet Lochlin and Inisfail. * * * As the noise of the troubled

+ ocean when roll the waves on high; as the last peal of the thunder of

+ heaven; such is the din of war.”

+

+Except in the position of the verb in the first two similes, the

+theoretically best arrangement is fully carried out in each of these

+sentences. The simile comes before the qualified image, the adjectives

+before the substantives, the predicate and copula before the subject,

+and their respective complements before them. That the passage is

+bombastic proves nothing; or rather, proves our case. For what is

+bombast but a force of expression too great for the magnitude of the

+ideas embodied? All that may rightly be inferred is, that only in rare

+cases should _all_ the conditions to effective expression be fulfilled.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+A more complex application of the theory may now be {356} made. Not

+only in the structures of sentences, and the uses of figures of speech,

+may we trace economy of the recipient’s mental energy as the cause of

+force; but we may trace this same cause in the successful choice and

+arrangement of the minor images out of which some large thought is to

+be built. To select from a scene or event described, those elements

+which carry many others with them; and so, by saying a few things but

+suggesting many, to abridge the description; is the secret of producing

+a vivid impression. An extract from Tennyson’s “Mariana” will well

+illustrate this.

+

+ “All day within the dreamy house,

+ The doors upon their hinges creaked,

+ The blue fly sung in the pane; the mouse

+ Behind the mouldering wainscot shriek’d,

+ Or from the crevice peer’d about.”

+

+The several circumstances here specified bring with them many

+appropriate associations. When alone the creaking of a distant door

+is much more obtrusive than when talking to friends. Our attention

+is rarely drawn by the buzzing of a fly in the window, save when

+everything is still. While the inmates are moving about the house,

+mice usually keep silence; and it is only when extreme quietness

+reigns that they peep from their retreats. Hence each of the facts

+mentioned, presupposing various others, calls up these with more or

+less distinctness; and revives the feeling of dull solitude with

+which they are connected in our experience. Were all of them detailed

+instead of suggested, the mental energies would be so frittered away

+in attending that little impression of dreariness would be produced.

+Similarly in other cases. In the choice of component ideas, as in the

+choice of expressions, the aim must be to convey the greatest quantity

+of thoughts with the smallest quantity of words.

+

+The same principle may sometimes be advantageously carried yet further,

+by indirectly suggesting some entirely {357} distinct thought in

+addition to the one expressed. Thus if we say,

+

+―― The head of a good classic is as full of ancient myths, as that of

+a servant-girl of ghost stories; it is manifest that besides the fact

+asserted, there is an implied opinion respecting the small value of

+much that passes as classical learning; and as this implied opinion

+is recognized much sooner than it can be put into words, there is

+gain in omitting it. In other cases, again, great effect is produced

+by an overt omission; provided the nature of the idea left out is

+obvious. A good instance occurs in _Heroes and Hero-worship_. After

+describing the way in which Burns was sacrificed to the idle curiosity

+of lion-hunters—people who sought to amuse themselves, and who got

+their amusement while “the Hero’s life went for it!” Carlyle suggests a

+parallel thus:―

+

+“Richter says, in the Island of Sumatra there is a kind of

+‘Light-chafers,’ large Fire-flies, which people stick upon spits, and

+illuminate the ways with at night. Persons of condition can thus travel

+with a pleasant radiance, which they much admire. Great honour to the

+Fire-flies! But—!—”

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Before inquiring whether the law of effect thus far traced, explains

+the impressiveness of poetry as compared with prose, it will be needful

+to notice some causes of force in expression which had not yet been

+mentioned. These are not, properly speaking, additional causes; but

+rather secondary ones, originating from those already specified.

+One is that mental excitement spontaneously prompts those forms of

+speech which have been pointed out as the most effective. “Out with

+him!” “Away with him!” are the cries of angry citizens at a disturbed

+meeting. A voyager, describing a terrible storm he had witnessed, would

+rise to some such climax as—“Crack went the ropes, and down came the

+mast.” Astonishment {358} may be heard expressed in the phrase—“Never

+was there such a sight!” All of which sentences are constructed after

+the direct type. Again, there is the fact that excited persons are

+given to figures of speech. The vituperation of the vulgar abounds with

+them. “Beast,” “brute,” “gallows rogue,” “cut-throat villain,” these,

+and like metaphors or metaphorical epithets, call to mind a street

+quarrel. Further, it may be noticed that extreme brevity is a trait

+of passionate language. The sentences are generally incomplete; and

+frequently important words are left to be gathered from the context.

+Great admiration does not vent itself in a precise proposition, as—“It

+is beautiful;” but in the simple exclamation,—“Beautiful!” He who, when

+reading a lawyer’s letter, should say, “Vile rascal!” would be thought

+angry; while, “He is a vile rascal,” would imply comparative coolness.

+Thus alike in the order of the words, in the frequent use of figures,

+and in extreme conciseness, the natural utterances of excitement

+conform to the theoretical conditions to forcible expression.

+

+Hence such forms of speech acquire a secondary strength from

+association. Having, in daily intercourse, heard them in connection

+with vivid mental impressions; and having been accustomed to meet with

+them in writing of unusual power; they come to have in themselves

+a species of force. The emotions that have from time to time been

+produced by the strong thoughts wrapped up in these forms, are

+partially aroused by the forms themselves. These create a preparatory

+sympathy; and when the striking ideas looked for are reached, they are

+the more vividly pictured.

+

+The continuous use of words and forms that are alike forcible in

+themselves and forcible from their associations, produces the

+impressive species of composition which we call poetry. The poet

+habitually adopts those symbols of thought, and those methods of

+using them, which instinct {359} and analysis agree in choosing as

+most effective. On turning back to the various specimens which have

+been quoted, it will be seen that the direct or inverted form of

+sentence predominates in them; and that to a degree inadmissible in

+prose. Not only in the frequency, but in what is termed the violence

+of the inversions, may this distinction be remarked. The abundant

+use of figures, again, exhibits the same truth. Metaphors, similes,

+hyperboles, and personifications, are the poet’s colours, which he has

+liberty to employ almost without limit. We characterize as “poetical”

+the prose which uses these appliances of language with frequency;

+and condemn it as “over florid” or “affected” long before they occur

+with the profusion allowed in verse. Once more, in brevity—the other

+requisite of forcible expression which theory points out and emotion

+spontaneously fulfils—poetical phraseology differs from ordinary

+phraseology. Imperfect periods are frequent; elisions are perpetual;

+and many minor words which would be deemed essential in prose, are

+dispensed with.

+

+Thus poetry is especially impressive partly because it conforms to

+all the laws of effective speech, and partly because in so doing

+it imitates the natural utterances of excitement. While the matter

+embodied is idealized emotion, the vehicle is the idealized language

+of emotion. As the musical composer catches the cadences in which our

+feelings of joy and sympathy, grief and despair, vent themselves,

+and out of these germs evolves melodies suggesting higher phases of

+these feelings; so, the poet develops from the typical expressions in

+which men utter passion and sentiment, those choice forms of verbal

+combination in which concentrated passion and sentiment may be fitly

+presented.

+

+There is one peculiarity of poetry conducing much to its effect—the

+peculiarity which is indeed usually thought its characteristic

+one—still remaining to be considered: we {360} mean its rhythmical

+structure. This, improbable though it seems, will be found to come

+under the same generalization with the others. Like each of them, it

+is an idealization of the natural language of emotion, which is not

+uncommonly more or less metrical if the emotion be not too violent; and

+like each of them it economizes the reader’s or hearer’s attention. In

+the peculiar tone and manner we adopt in uttering versified language,

+may be discerned its relationship to the feelings; and the pleasure

+which its measured movement gives, is ascribable to the comparative

+ease with which words metrically arranged can be recognized. This last

+position will not be at once admitted; but explanation will justify it.

+If, as we have seen, there is an expenditure of mental energy in so

+listening to verbal articulations as to identify the words, or in that

+silent repetition of them which goes on in reading, then, any mode of

+so combining words as to present a regular recurrence of certain traits

+which can be anticipated, will diminish that strain on the attention

+entailed by the total irregularity of prose. Just as the body, when

+receiving a series of varying concussions, must keep its muscles ready

+to meet the most violent of them, as not knowing when such may come;

+so, the mind when receiving unarranged articulations, must keep its

+perceptive faculties active enough to recognize the least easily caught

+sounds. And as, if the concussions recur in a definite order, the body

+may husband its forces by adjusting the resistance needful for each

+concussion; so, if the syllables be rhythmically arranged, the mind may

+economize its energies by anticipating the attention required for each

+syllable. Far-fetched though this idea will be thought, introspection

+countenances it. That we _do_ take advantage of metrical language to

+adjust our perceptive faculties to the expected articulations, is clear

+from the fact that we are balked by halting versification. Much as at

+the bottom of a flight of stairs, a step more or less than we counted

+upon gives us a {361} shock; so, too, does a misplaced accent or a

+supernumerary syllable. In the one case, we _know_ that there is an

+erroneous pre-adjustment; and we can scarcely doubt that there is one

+in the other. But if we habitually pre-adjust our perceptions to the

+measured movement of verse, the physical analogy above given renders

+it probable that by so doing we economize attention; and hence that

+metrical language is more effective than prose, because it enables us

+to do this.

+

+Were there space, it might be worth while to inquire whether the

+pleasure we take in rhyme, and also that which we take in euphony, are

+not partly ascribable to the same general cause.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+A few paragraphs only, can be devoted to a second division of our

+subject. To pursue in detail the laws of effect, as applying to the

+larger features of composition, would carry us beyond our limits. But

+we may briefly indicate a further aspect of the general principle

+hitherto traced, and hint a few of its wider applications.

+

+Thus far, we have considered only those causes of force in language

+which depend on economy of the mental _energies_. We have now to

+glance at those which depend on economy of the mental _sensibilities_.

+Questionable though this division may be as a psychological one, it

+will serve roughly to indicate the remaining field of investigation.

+It will suggest that besides considering the extent to which any

+faculty or group of faculties is tasked in receiving a form of words

+and constructing its contained idea, we have to consider the state

+in which this faculty or group of faculties is left; and how the

+reception of subsequent sentences and images will be influenced by

+that state. Without going fully into so wide a topic as the action

+of faculties and its reactive effects, it will suffice to recall

+the fact that every faculty is exhausted by exercise. {362} This

+generalization, which our bodily experiences force upon us, and which

+in daily speech is recognized as true of the mind as a whole, is true

+of each mental power, from the simplest of the senses to the most

+complex of the sentiments. If we hold a flower to the nose for long,

+we become insensible to its scent. We say of a brilliant flash of

+lightning that it blinds us; which means that our eyes have for a time

+lost their ability to appreciate light. After eating honey, we are

+apt to think our tea is without sugar. The phrase “a deafening roar,”

+implies that men find a very loud sound temporarily incapacitates them

+for hearing faint sounds. To a hand which has for some time carried

+a heavy body, small bodies afterwards lifted seem to have lost their

+weight. Now, the truth thus exemplified, may be traced throughout.

+Alike of the reflective faculties, the imagination, the perceptions

+of the beautiful, the ludicrous, the sublime, it may be shown that

+action exhausts; and that in proportion as the action is violent the

+subsequent prostration is great.

+

+Equally throughout the whole nature, may be traced the law that

+exercised faculties are ever tending to resume their original states.

+Not only after continued rest, do they regain their full powers—not

+only are brief cessations in the demands on them followed by partial

+re-invigoration; but even while they are in action, the resulting

+exhaustion is ever being neutralized. The processes of waste and

+repair go on together. Hence with faculties habitually exercised—as

+the senses of all persons, or the muscles of any one who is strong—it

+happens that, during moderate activity, the repair is so nearly equal

+to the waste, that the diminution of power is scarcely appreciable.

+It is only when effort has been long continued, or has been violent,

+that repair becomes so far in arrear of waste as to cause a perceptible

+enfeeblement. In all cases, however, when, by the action of a faculty,

+waste has been incurred, _some_ lapse {363} of time must take place

+before full efficiency can be reacquired; and this time must be long in

+proportion as the waste has been great.

+

+Keeping in mind these general truths, we shall be in a condition

+to understand certain causes of effect in composition now to be

+considered. Every perception received, and every conception framed,

+entailing some amount of waste in the nervous system, and the

+efficiency of the faculties employed being for a time, though often

+but momentarily, diminished; the resulting partial inability affects

+the acts of perception and conception that immediately succeed. Hence

+the vividness with which images are pictured must, in many cases,

+depend on the order of their presentation; even when one order is as

+convenient to the understanding as the other. Sundry facts illustrate

+this truth, and are explained by it: instance climax and anti-climax.

+The marked effect obtained by placing last the most striking of any

+series of ideas, and the weakness—often the ludicrous weakness—produced

+by reversing this arrangement, depends on the general law indicated.

+As immediately after looking at the sun we cannot perceive the light

+of a fire, while by looking at the fire first and the sun afterwards

+we can perceive both; so, after receiving a brilliant, or weighty, or

+terrible thought, we cannot properly appreciate a less brilliant, less

+weighty, or less terrible one, though by reversing the order, we can

+appreciate each. In Antithesis, again, the like truth is exemplified.

+The opposition of two thoughts which are the reverse of each other in

+some prominent trait, insures an impressive effect; and does this by

+giving a momentary relaxation to the faculties addressed. If, after a

+series of ordinary images exciting in a moderate degree to the emotion

+of reverence, or approbation, or beauty, the mind has presented to

+it an insignificant, or unworthy, or ugly image; the structure which

+yields the emotion of reverence, or approbation, or beauty, having for

+the time nothing to do, tends to resume {364} its full power; and

+will immediately afterwards appreciate anything vast, admirable, or

+beautiful better than it would otherwise do. Conversely, where the idea

+of absurdity due to extreme insignificance is to be produced, it may be

+intensified by placing it after something impressive; especially if the

+form of phrase implies that something still more impressive is coming.

+A good illustration of the effect gained by thus presenting a petty

+idea to a consciousness which has not yet recovered from the shock of

+an exciting one, occurs in a sketch by Balzac. His hero writes to a

+mistress who has cooled towards him, the following letter:―

+

+ “Madame,—Votre conduite m’étonne autant qu’elle m’afflige. Non

+ contente de me déchirer le cœur par vos dédains, vous avez

+ l’indélicatesse de me retenir une brosse à dents, que mes moyens

+ ne me permettent pas de remplacer, mes propriétés étant grevées

+ d’hypothèques au delà de leur valeur.

+

+ “Adieu, trop belle et trop ingrate amie! Puissions-nous nous revoir

+ dans un monde meilleur!

+                                                   “CHARLES-EDOUARD.”

+

+Thus the phenomena of Climax, Antithesis, and Anticlimax, alike result

+from this general principle. Improbable as these momentary variations

+in susceptibility may seem, we cannot doubt their occurrence when we

+contemplate the analogous variations in the susceptibility of the

+senses. Every one knows that a patch of black on a white ground looks

+blacker, and a patch of white on a black ground looks whiter, than

+elsewhere. As the blackness and the whiteness are really the same,

+the only assignable cause, is a difference in their actions upon us,

+dependent on the different states of our faculties. The effect is due

+to a visual antithesis.

+

+But this extension of the general principle of economy—this further

+condition to effective composition, that the sensitiveness of the

+faculties must be husbanded—includes much more than has been yet

+hinted. Not only does it follow that certain arrangements and certain

+juxtapositions of connected ideas are best; but also that some modes

+of dividing and presenting a subject will be more striking {365} than

+others, irrespective of logical cohesion. We are shown why we must

+progress from the less interesting to the more interesting; alike in

+the composition as a whole, and in each successive portion. At the

+same time, the indicated requirement negatives long continuity of

+the same kind of thought, or repeated production of like effects.

+It warns us against the error committed by Pope in his poems and by

+Bacon in his essays—the error of constantly employing forcible forms

+of expression. As the easiest posture by and by becomes fatiguing,

+and is with pleasure exchanged for one less easy; so, the most

+perfectly-constructed sentences unceasingly used must cause weariness,

+and relief will be given by using those of inferior kinds. Further,

+we may infer not only that we ought to avoid generally combining our

+words in one manner, however good, or working out our figures and

+illustrations in one way, however telling; but that we ought to avoid

+anything like uniform adherence to the wider conditions of effect. We

+should not make every division of our subject progress in interest; we

+should not always rise to a climax. As we saw that in single sentences

+it is but rarely allowable to fulfil all the conditions to strength;

+so, in the larger sections of a composition we must not often conform

+entirely to the principles indicated. We must subordinate the component

+effects to the total effect.

+

+The species of composition which the law we have traced out indicates

+as the perfect one, is the one which genius tends naturally to produce.

+As we found that the kinds of sentence which are theoretically best,

+are those commonly employed by superior minds, and by inferior minds

+when temporarily exalted; so, we shall find that the ideal form for a

+poem, essay, or fiction, is that which the ideal writer would evolve

+spontaneously. One in whom the powers of expression fully responded

+to the state of feeling, would unconsciously use that variety in the

+mode {366} of presenting his thoughts, which Art demands. Constant

+employment of one species of phraseology implies an undeveloped

+linguistic faculty. To have a specific style is to be poor in speech.

+If we remember that in the far past, men had only nouns and verbs to

+convey their ideas with, and that from then to now the progress has

+been towards more numerous implements of thought, and towards greater

+complexity and variety in their combinations; we may infer that, in the

+use of sentences, we are at present much what the primitive man was

+in the use of words; and that a continuance of the process which has

+hitherto gone on, must produce increasing heterogeneity in our modes

+of expression. As now, in a fine nature, the play of the features, the

+tones of the voice and its cadences, vary in harmony with every thought

+uttered; so, in one possessed of fully-developed powers of language,

+the mould in which each combination of words is cast will vary with,

+and be appropriate to, the mental state. That a perfectly-endowed man

+must unconsciously write in all styles, we may infer from considering

+how styles originate. Why is Johnson pompous, Goldsmith simple? Why is

+one author abrupt, another involved, another concise? Evidently in each

+case the habitual mode of utterance depends on the habitual balance of

+the nature. The dominant feelings have by use trained the intellect to

+represent them. But while long habit has made it do this efficiently,

+it remains, from lack of practice, unable to do the like for the less

+active feelings; and when these are excited, the usual verbal forms

+undergo but slight modifications. But let the ability of the intellect

+to represent the mental state be complete, and this fixity of style

+will disappear. The perfect writer will be now rhythmical and now

+irregular; here his language will be plain and there ornate; sometimes

+his sentences will be balanced and at other times unsymmetrical; for

+a while there will be considerable sameness, and then again great

+variety. His mode of {367} expression naturally responding to his

+thought and emotion, there will flow from his pen a composition

+changing as the aspects of his subject change. He will thus without

+effort conform to what we have seen to be the laws of effect. And

+while his work presents to the reader that variety needful to prevent

+continuous exertion of the same faculties, it will also answer to the

+description of all highly-organized products both of man and nature. It

+will be, not a series of like parts simply placed in juxtaposition, but

+one whole made up of unlike parts that are mutually dependent.

+

+

+POSTSCRIPT.—The conclusion that because of their comparative brevity

+and because of those stronger associations formed by more frequent

+use, words of Old-English origin are preferable to words derived from

+Latin or Greek, should be taken with two qualifications, which it seems

+needful to add here.

+

+In some cases the word furnished by our original tongue, and the

+corresponding word directly or indirectly derived from Latin, though

+nominally equivalents, are not actually such; and the word of Latin

+origin, by certain extra connotations it has acquired, may be the more

+expressive. For instance, we have no word of native origin which can

+be advantageously substituted for the word “grand.” No such words as

+“big” or “great,” which connote little more than superiority in size

+or quantity, can be used instead: they do not imply that qualitative

+superiority which is associated with the idea of grandeur. As adopted

+into our own language, the word “grand” has been differentiated from

+“great” by habitual use in those cases where the greatness has an

+æsthetic superiority. In this case, then, a word of Latin origin

+is better than its nearest equivalent of native origin, because by

+use it has acquired an additional meaning. And here, too, we may

+conveniently {368} note the fact that the greater brevity of a word

+does not invariably conduce to greater force. Where the word, instead

+of being one conveying a subordinate component of the idea the sentence

+expresses, is one conveying the central element of the idea, on

+which the attention may with advantage rest a moment, a longer word

+is sometimes better than a shorter word. Thus it may be held that

+the sentence—“It is grand” is not so effective as the sentence—“It

+is magnificent.” Besides the fact that here greater length of the

+word favours a longer dwelling on the essential part of the thought,

+there is the fact that its greater length, aided by its division

+into syllables, gives opportunity for a cadence appropriate to the

+feeling produced by the thing characterized. By an ascent of the voice

+on the syllable “nif,” and an utterance of this syllable, not only

+in a higher note, but with greater emphasis than the preceding or

+succeeding syllables, there is implied that emotion which contemplation

+of the object produces; and the emotion thus implied is, by sympathy,

+communicated. One may say that in the case of these two words, if the

+imposingness is alone to be considered, the word “magnificent” may with

+advantage be employed; but if the sentence expresses a proposition

+in which, not the imposingness itself, but something _about_ the

+imposingness, is to be expressed, then the word “grand” is preferable.

+

+The second qualification above referred to, concerns the superiority

+of words derived from Latin or Greek, in cases where more or less

+abstract ideas have to be expressed. In such cases it is undesirable

+to use words having concrete associations; for such words, by the very

+vividness with which they call up thoughts of particular objects or

+particular actions, impede the formation of conceptions which refer,

+not to particular objects and actions, but to general truths concerning

+objects or actions of kinds that are more or less various. Thus, such

+an expression as “the colligation of facts” is better for philosophical

+purposes than such {369} an expression as “the tying together of

+facts.” This last expression cannot be used without suggesting the

+thought of a bundle of material things bound up by a string or cord—a

+thought which, in so far as the materiality of its components is

+concerned, conflicts with the conception to be suggested. Though it is

+true that when its derivation is remembered, “colligation” raises the

+same thought, yet, as the thought is not so promptly or irresistibly

+raised, it stands less in the way of the abstract conception with which

+attention should be exclusively occupied.

+

+

+ENDNOTE TO _THE PHILOSOPHY OF STYLE_.

+

+[54] Properly the term “simile” is applicable only to the entire

+figure, including the two things compared and the comparison drawn

+between them. But as there exists no name for the illustrative member

+of the figure, there seems no alternative but to employ “simile” to

+express this also. The context will in each case show in which sense

+the word is used.

+

+

+

+

+{370}

+

+USE AND BEAUTY.

+

+

+[_First published in_ The Leader _for January 3, 1852._]

+

+In one of his essays, Emerson remarks, that what Nature at one time

+provides for use, she afterwards turns to ornament; and he cites in

+illustration the structure of a sea-shell, in which the parts that have

+for a while formed the mouth are at the next season of growth left

+behind, and become decorative nodes and spines.

+

+Ignoring the implied teleology, which does not here concern us, it has

+often occurred to me that this same remark might be extended to the

+progress of Humanity. Here, too, the appliances of one era serve as

+embellishments to the next. Equally in institutions, creeds, customs,

+and superstitions, we may trace this evolution of beauty out of what

+was once purely utilitarian.

+

+The contrast between the feeling with which we regard portions of the

+Earth’s surface still left in their original state, and the feeling

+with which the savage regarded them, is an instance that comes first

+in order of time. If any one walking over Hampstead Heath, will note

+how strongly its picturesqueness is brought out by contrast with

+the surrounding cultivated fields and the masses of houses lying

+in the distance; and will further reflect that, had this irregular

+gorse-covered surface extended on all sides to the horizon, it {371}

+would have looked dreary and prosaic rather than pleasing; he will

+see that to the primitive man a country so clothed presented no beauty

+at all. To him it was merely a haunt of wild animals, and a ground

+out of which roots might be dug. What have become for us places of

+relaxation and enjoyment—places for afternoon strolls and for gathering

+flowers—were his places for labour and food, probably arousing in his

+mind none but utilitarian associations.

+

+Ruined castles afford obvious instances of this metamorphosis of the

+useful into the beautiful. To feudal barons and their retainers,

+security was the chief, if not the only end, sought in choosing the

+sites and styles of their strongholds. Probably they aimed as little at

+the picturesque as do the builders of cheap brick houses in our modern

+towns. Yet what were erected for shelter and safety, and what in those

+early days fulfilled an important function in the social economy, have

+now assumed a purely ornamental character. They serve as scenes for

+picnics; pictures of them decorate our drawing-rooms; and each supplies

+its surrounding districts with legends for Christmas Eve.

+

+On following out the train of thought suggested by this last

+illustration, we may see that not only do the material exuviæ of past

+social states become the ornaments of our landscapes; but that past

+habits, manners, and arrangements, serve as ornamental elements in

+our literature. The tyrannies which, to the serfs who bore them, were

+harsh and dreary facts; the feuds which, to those who took part in

+them, were very practical life-and-death affairs; the mailed, moated,

+sentinelled security which was irksome to the nobles who needed it; the

+imprisonments, and tortures, and escapes, which were stern and quite

+prosaic realities to all concerned in them; have become to us material

+for romantic tales—material which, when woven into Ivanhoes and

+Marmions, serves for amusement in leisure hours, and becomes poetical

+by contrast with our daily lives.

+

+Thus, also, is it with extinct creeds. Stonehenge, which {372} in the

+hands of the Druids had a governmental influence over men, is in our

+day a place for antiquarian excursions; and its attendant priests are

+worked up into an opera. Greek sculptures, preserved for their beauty

+in our galleries of art, and copied for the decoration of pleasure

+grounds and entrance halls, once lived in men’s minds as gods demanding

+obedience; as did also the grotesque idols that now amuse the visitors

+to our museums.

+

+Equally marked is this change of function in the case of minor

+superstitions. The fairy lore, which in past times was matter of

+grave belief, and held sway over people’s conduct, have since been

+transformed into ornament for _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_, _The

+Tempest_, _The Fairy Queen,_ and endless small tales and poems; and

+still affords subjects for children’s story-books, themes for ballets,

+and plots for Planché’s burlesques. Gnomes, and genii, and afrits,

+losing their terrors, give piquancy to the woodcuts in our illustrated

+edition of the _Arabian Nights_. While ghost-stories, and tales

+of magic and witchcraft, after serving to amuse boys and girls in

+their leisure hours, become matter for jocose allusions that enliven

+tea-table conversation.

+

+Even our serious literature and our speeches are relieved by ornaments

+drawn from such sources. A Greek myth is often used as a parallel by

+which to vary the monotony of some grave argument. The lecturer breaks

+the dead level of his practical discourse by illustrations drawn from

+bygone customs, events, or beliefs. And metaphors, similarly derived,

+give brilliancy to political orations, and to _Times_ leading articles.

+

+Indeed, on careful inquiry, I think it will be found that we turn to

+purposes of beauty most byegone phenomena which are at all conspicuous.

+The busts of great men in our libraries, and their tombs in our

+churches; the once useful but now purely ornamental heraldic symbols;

+the monks, nuns, and convents, which give interest to a certain class

+of novels; the bronze mediæval soldiers used for {373} embellishing

+drawing-rooms; the gilt Apollos which recline on time-pieces; the

+narratives that serve as plots for our great dramas; and the events

+that afford subjects for historical pictures;—these and such like

+illustrations of the metamorphosis of the useful into the beautiful,

+are so numerous as to suggest that, did we search diligently enough,

+we should find that in some place, or under some circumstance, nearly

+every notable product of the past has assumed a decorative character.

+

+And here the mention of historical pictures reminds me that an

+inference may be drawn from all this, bearing directly on the practice

+of art. It has of late years been a frequent criticism upon our

+historical painters, that they err in choosing their subjects from

+the past; and that, would they found a genuine and vital school, they

+must render on canvas the life and deeds and aims of our own time. If,

+however, there be any significance in the foregoing facts, it seems

+doubtful whether this criticism is a just one. For if it be the course

+of things that what has performed some active function in society

+during one era, becomes available for ornament in a subsequent one; it

+almost follows that, conversely, whatever is performing some active

+function now, or has very recently performed one, does not possess the

+ornamental character; and is, consequently, inapplicable to any purpose

+of which beauty is the aim, or of which it is a needful ingredient.

+

+Still more reasonable will this conclusion appear, when we consider

+the nature of this process by which the useful is changed into the

+ornamental. An essential pre-requisite to all beauty is _contrast_.

+To obtain artistic effect, light must be put in juxtaposition with

+shade, bright colours with dull colours, a fretted surface with a plain

+one. _Forte_ passages in music must have _piano_ passages to relieve

+them; concerted pieces need interspersing with solos; and rich chords

+must not be continuously repeated. In the drama we demand contrast

+of characters, of scenes, of sentiment, of {374} style. In prose

+composition an eloquent passage should have a comparatively plain

+setting; and in poems great effect is obtained by occasional change

+of versification. This general principle will, I think, explain the

+transformation of the bygone useful into the present beautiful. It

+is by virtue of their contrast with our present modes of life, that

+past modes of life look interesting and romantic. Just as a picnic,

+which is a temporary return to an aboriginal condition, derives, from

+its unfamiliarity, a certain poetry which it would not have were it

+habitual; so, everything ancient gains, from its relative novelty to

+us, an element of interest. Gradually as, by the growth of society, we

+leave behind the customs, manners, arrangements, and all the products,

+material and mental, of a bygone age—gradually as we recede from these

+so far that there arises a conspicuous difference between them and

+those we are familiar with; so gradually do they begin to assume to us

+a poetical aspect, and become applicable for ornament. And hence it

+follows that things and events which are close to us, and which are

+accompanied by associations of ideas not markedly contrasted with our

+ordinary associations, are _relatively_ inappropriate for purposes

+of art. I say relatively because an incident of modern life or even

+of daily life may acquire adequate fitness for art purposes by an

+unusualness of some other kind than that due to unlikeness between past

+and present.

+

+

+

+

+{375}

+

+THE SOURCES OF ARCHITECTURAL TYPES.

+

+

+[_First published in_ The Leader _for October 23, 1852._]

+

+When lately looking through the gallery of the Old Water-Colour

+Society, I was struck with the incongruity produced by putting regular

+architecture into irregular scenery. In one case, where the artist had

+introduced a symmetrical Grecian edifice into a mountainous and wild

+landscape, the discordant effect was particularly marked. “How very

+unpicturesque,” said a lady to her friend, as they passed; showing that

+I was not alone in my opinion. Her phrase, however, set me speculating.

+Why unpicturesque? Picturesque means, like a picture—like what men

+choose for pictures. Why then should this be not fit for a picture?

+

+Thinking the matter over, it seemed to me that the artist had sinned

+against that harmony of sentiment which is essential to a good picture.

+When the other constituents of a landscape have irregular forms, any

+artificial structure introduced should have an irregular form, that

+it may seem _part_ of the landscape. The same general character must

+pervade it and the surrounding objects; otherwise it, and the scene

+amid which it stands, become not _one_ thing but _two_ things; and

+we say that it looks out of place. Or, speaking psychologically,

+the associated ideas called {376} up by a building with its wings,

+windows, columns, and all its parts symmetrically disposed, differ

+widely from the ideas associated with an unsymmetrical landscape; and

+the one set of ideas tends to banish the other.

+

+Pursuing the train of thought, sundry illustrative facts came to mind.

+I remembered that a castle, which is usually more irregular in outline

+than any other kind of building, pleases us most when seated amid

+crags and precipices; while a castle on a plain seems incongruous.

+The partly-regular and partly-irregular forms of our old farm-houses,

+and our gabled gothic manors and abbeys, appear quite in harmony

+with an undulating, wooded country. In towns we prefer symmetrical

+architecture; and in towns it produces in us no feeling of incongruity,

+because all surrounding things—men, horses, vehicles—are symmetrical

+also.

+

+And here I was reminded of a notion that has frequently recurred to me;

+namely, that there is some relationship between the several kinds of

+architecture and the several classes of natural objects. Buildings in

+the Greek and Roman styles seem, in virtue of their symmetry, to take

+their type from animal life. In the partially-irregular Gothic, ideas

+derived from the vegetable world appear to predominate. And wholly

+irregular buildings, such as castles, may be considered as having

+inorganic forms for their basis.

+

+Whimsical as this speculation looks at first sight, it is countenanced

+by numerous facts. The connexion between symmetrical architecture and

+animal forms, may be inferred from the _kind_ of symmetry we expect,

+and are satisfied with, in regular buildings. In a Greek temple we

+require that the front shall be symmetrical in itself, and that the two

+flanks shall be alike; but we do not look for uniformity between the

+flanks and the front, nor between the front and the back. The identity

+of this symmetry with that found in animals is obvious. Again, why is

+it that a {377} building making any pretensions to symmetry displeases

+us if not quite symmetrical? Probably the reply will be—Because we

+see that the designer’s idea is not fully carried out; and that

+hence our love of completeness is offended. But then there come the

+further questions—How do we know that the architect’s conception was

+symmetrical? Whence comes this notion of symmetry which we have, and

+which we attribute to him? Unless we fall back upon the old doctrine

+of innate ideas, we must admit that the idea of bi-lateral symmetry is

+derived from without; and to admit this is to admit that it is derived

+from the higher animals.

+

+That there is some relationship between Gothic architecture and vegetal

+forms is generally admitted. The often-remarked similarity between a

+groined nave and an avenue of trees with interlacing branches, shows

+that the fact has forced itself on observation. It is not only in

+this, however, that the kinship is seen. It is seen still better in

+the essential characteristic of Gothic; namely, what is termed its

+_aspiring_ tendency. That predominance of vertical lines which so

+strongly distinguishes Gothic from other styles, is the most marked

+peculiarity of trees, when compared with animals or rocks. A tall

+Gothic tower, with its elongated apertures and clusters of thin

+projections running from bottom to top, suggests a vague idea of growth.

+

+Of the alleged connexion between inorganic forms and the wholly

+irregular and the castellated styles of building, we have, I think,

+some proof in the fact that when an edifice is irregular, the _more_

+irregular it is the more it pleases us. I see no way of accounting for

+this fact, save by supposing that the greater the irregularity the more

+strongly are we reminded of the inorganic forms typified, and the more

+vividly are aroused the agreeable ideas of rugged and romantic scenery

+associated with those forms.

+

+Further evidence of these relationships of styles of {378}

+architecture to classes of natural objects, is supplied by the

+kinds of decoration they respectively present. The public buildings

+of Greece, while characterized in their outlines by the bi-lateral

+symmetry seen in the higher animals, have their pediments and

+entablatures covered with sculptured men and beasts. Egyptian temples

+and Assyrian palaces, similarly symmetrical in their general plan, are

+similarly ornamented on their walls and at their doors. In Gothic,

+again, with its grove-like ranges of clustered columns, we find rich

+foliated ornaments abundantly employed. And accompanying the totally

+irregular, inorganic outlines of old castles, we see neither vegetal

+nor animal decorations. The bare, rock-like walls are surmounted by

+battlements, consisting of almost plain blocks, which remind us of the

+projections on the edge of a rugged cliff.

+

+But perhaps the most significant fact is the harmony observable between

+each type of architecture and the scenes in which it is indigenous.

+For what is the explanation of this harmony, unless it be that

+the predominant character of surrounding things has, in some way,

+determined the mode of building adopted?

+

+That the harmony exists is clear. Equally in the cases of Egypt,

+Assyria, Greece, and Rome, town life preceded the construction of the

+symmetrical buildings that have come down to us. And town life is one

+in which, as already observed, the majority of familiar objects are

+symmetrical. We habitually feel the naturalness of this association.

+Amid the fields, a formal house, with a central door flanked by equal

+numbers of windows to right and left, strikes us as unrural—looks as

+though transplanted from a street; and we cannot look at one of those

+stuccoed villas, with mock-windows arranged to balance the real ones,

+without being reminded of the suburban residence of a retired tradesman.

+

+In styles indigenous in the country, we not only find {379} the

+general irregularity characteristic of surrounding things, but we may

+trace some kinship between each kind of irregularity and the local

+circumstances. We see the broken rocky masses amid which castles are

+often placed, mirrored in their stern, inorganic forms. In abbeys, and

+such-like buildings, which are commonly found in sheltered districts,

+we find no such violent dislocations of masses and outlines; and the

+nakedness appropriate to the fortress is replaced by decorations

+reflecting the neighbouring woods. Between a Swiss cottage and a Swiss

+view there is an evident relationship. The angular roof, so bold and

+so disproportionately large when compared to other roofs, reminds one

+of the adjacent mountain peaks; and the broad overhanging eaves have

+a sweep and inclination like those of the lower branches of a pine

+tree. Consider, too, the apparent kinship between the flat roofs that

+prevail in Eastern cities, interspersed with occasional minarets, and

+the plains that commonly surround them, dotted here and there by palm

+trees. Contemplate a picture of one of these places, and you are struck

+by the predominance of horizontal lines, and their harmony with the

+wide stretch of the landscape.

+

+That the congruity here pointed out should hold in every case must

+not be expected. The Pyramids, for example, do not seem to come

+under this generalization. Their repeated horizontal lines do indeed

+conform to the flatness of the neighbouring desert; but their general

+contour seems to have no adjacent analogue. Considering, however,

+that migrating races, carrying their architectural systems with them,

+would naturally produce buildings having no relationship to their new

+localities; and that it is not always possible to distinguish styles

+which are indigenous, from those which are naturalized; numerous

+anomalies must be looked for.

+

+The general idea above illustrated will perhaps be somewhat

+misinterpreted. Possibly some will take the {380} proposition to

+be that men _intentionally_ gave to their buildings the leading

+characteristics of neighbouring objects. But this is not what is

+meant. I do not suppose that they did so in times past, any more

+than they do so now. The hypothesis is, that in their choice of

+forms men are unconsciously influenced by the forms encircling them.

+That flat-roofed, symmetrical architecture should have originated

+in the East, among pastoral tribes surrounded by their herds and by

+wide plains, seems to imply that the builders were swayed by the

+horizontality and symmetry to which they were habituated. And the

+harmony which we have found to exist in other cases between indigenous

+styles and their localities, implies the general action of like

+influences. Indeed, on considering the matter psychologically, I do

+not see how it could well be otherwise. For as all conceptions must be

+made up of images, and parts of images, received through the senses;

+and as imagination will most readily run in the direction of habitual

+perceptions; it follows that the characteristic which predominates in

+habitual perceptions must impress itself on designs.

+

+

+

+

+{381}

+

+GRACEFULNESS.

+

+

+[_First published in_ The Leader _for December 25, 1852._]

+

+We do not ascribe gracefulness to cart-horses, tortoises, and

+hippopotami, in all of which the powers of movement are relatively

+inferior; but we ascribe it to greyhounds, antelopes, race-horses, all

+of which have highly efficient locomotive organs. What, then, is this

+distinctive peculiarity of structure and action which we call Grace?

+

+One night while watching a dancer, and inwardly condemning her _tours

+de force_ as barbarisms which would be hissed, were not people such

+cowards as always to applaud what they think it the fashion to applaud,

+I remarked that the truly graceful motions occasionally introduced,

+were those performed with comparatively little effort. After calling to

+mind sundry confirmatory facts, I presently concluded that grace, as

+applied to motion, describes motion that is effected with economy of

+force; grace, as applied to animal forms, describes forms capable of

+this economy; grace, as applied to postures, describes postures which

+may be maintained with this economy; and grace, as applied to inanimate

+objects, describes such as exhibit certain analogies to these attitudes

+and forms.

+

+That this generalization, if not the whole truth, contains at least a

+large part of it, will, I think, become obvious, on {382} considering

+how habitually we couple the words _easy_ and _graceful_; and still

+more, on calling to mind some of the facts on which this association

+is based. The attitude of a soldier, drawing himself bolt upright when

+his serjeant shouts “attention,” is more remote from gracefulness than

+when he relaxes at the words “stand at ease.” The _gauche_ visitor

+sitting stiffly on the edge of his chair, and his self-possessed host,

+whose limbs and body dispose themselves as convenience dictates, are

+contrasts as much in effort as in elegance. When standing, we commonly

+economise power by throwing the weight chiefly on one leg, which we

+straighten to make it serve as a column, while we relax the other; and

+to the same end, we allow the head to lean somewhat on one side. Both

+these attitudes are imitated in sculpture as elements of grace.

+

+Turning from attitudes to movements, current remarks will be found to

+imply the same relationship. No one praises as graceful, a walk that

+is irregular or jerking, and so displays waste of power; no one sees

+any beauty in the waddle of a fat man, or the trembling steps of an

+invalid, in both of which effort is visible. But the style of walking

+we admire is moderate in velocity, perfectly rhythmical, unaccompanied

+by violent swinging of the arms, and giving us the impression that

+there is no conscious exertion, while there is no force thrown away.

+In dancing, again, the prevailing difficulty—the proper disposal of

+the arms—well illustrates the same truth. Those who fail in overcoming

+this difficulty give the spectator the impression that their arms are

+a trouble to them; they are held stiffly in some meaningless attitude,

+at an obvious expense of power; they are checked from swinging in the

+directions in which they would naturally swing; or they are so moved

+that, instead of helping to maintain the equilibrium, they endanger it.

+A good dancer, on the contrary, makes us feel that, so far from the

+arms being in the way, they are of great use. Each {383} motion of

+them, while it seems naturally to result from a previous motion of the

+body, is turned to some advantage. We perceive that it has facilitated

+instead of hindered the general action; or, in other words—that an

+economy of effort has been achieved. Any one wishing to distinctly

+realize this fact, may readily do so by studying the action of the

+arms in walking. Let him place his arms close to his sides, and there

+keep them, while walking with some rapidity. He will unavoidably fall

+into a backward and forward motion of the shoulders, of a wriggling,

+ungraceful character. After persevering in this for a space, until he

+finds that the action is not only ungraceful but fatiguing, let him

+allow his arms to swing as usual. The wriggling of the shoulders will

+cease; the body will move equably forward; and comparative ease will

+be felt. On analyzing this fact, he may perceive that the backward

+motion of each arm is simultaneous with the forward motion of the

+corresponding leg. If he will attend to his muscular sensations, he

+will find that this backward swing of the arm is a counterbalance to

+the forward swing of the leg; and that it is easier to produce this

+counterbalance by moving the arm than by contorting the body, as he

+otherwise must do.[55]

+

+The action of the arms in walking being thus understood, it will be

+manifest that the graceful employment of them in dancing is simply a

+complication of the same thing; and that a good dancer is one having so

+acute a muscular perception as at once to feel in what direction the

+arms {384} should be moved to counterbalance any motion of the body or

+legs.

+

+This connexion between gracefulness and economy of force, will be

+most clearly recognized by those who skate. They will remember that

+all early attempts, and especially the first timid experiments

+in figure-skating, are alike awkward and fatiguing; and that the

+acquirement of skill is also the acquirement of ease. The requisite

+confidence, and a due command of the feet having been obtained, those

+twistings of the trunk and gyrations of the arms, previously used to

+maintain the balance, are found needless. The body is allowed to follow

+without control the impulse given to it; the arms to swing where they

+will; and it is clearly felt that the graceful way of performing any

+evolution is the way that costs least effort. Spectators can scarcely

+fail to see the same fact, if they look for it.

+

+The reference to skating suggests that graceful motion might be defined

+as motion in curved lines. Certainly, straight and zig-zag movements

+are excluded from the conception. The sudden stoppages which angular

+movements imply, are its antithesis; for a leading trait of grace is

+continuity, flowingness. It will be found, however, that this is merely

+another aspect of the same truth; and that motion in curved lines is

+economical motion. Given certain successive positions to be assumed by

+a limb, then if it be moved in a straight line to the first of these

+positions, suddenly arrested, and then moved in another direction

+straight to the second position, and so on, it is clear that at each

+arrest, the momentum previously given to the limb must be destroyed at

+a certain cost of force, {385} and a new momentum given to it at a

+further cost of force; whereas, if, instead of arresting the limb at

+its first position, its motion be allowed to continue, and a lateral

+force be impressed to make it diverge towards the second position, a

+curvilinear motion is the necessary result; and by making use of the

+original momentum, force is economized.

+

+If the truth of these conclusions respecting graceful movements be

+admitted, it cannot, I think, be doubted, that graceful form is that

+kind of form which implies relatively small effort required for

+self-support, and relatively small effort required for movement. Were

+it otherwise, there would arise the incongruity that graceful form

+would either not be associated at all with graceful movement, or that

+the one would habitually occur in the absence of the other; both which

+alternatives being at variance with our experience, we must conclude

+that there exists the relationship indicated. Any one hesitating to

+admit this, will, I think, do so no longer on remembering that the

+animals which we consider graceful, are those so slight in build as

+not to be burdened by their own weight, and those noted for fleetness

+and agility; while those we class as ungraceful, are those which are

+alike cumbrous and have the faculty of locomotion but little developed.

+In the case of the greyhound, especially, we see that the particular

+modification of the canine type in which economy of weight is the most

+conspicuous, and in which the facility of muscular motion has been

+brought to the greatest perfection, is the one which we call most

+graceful.

+

+How trees and inanimate objects should come to have this epithet

+applied to them, seems less obvious. But remembrance of the fact

+that we commonly, and perhaps unavoidably, regard all objects under

+a certain anthropomorphic aspect, will help us to understand it. The

+stiff branch of an oak tree standing out at right angles to the trunk,

+gives us a vague notion of great force expended to {386} keep it in

+that position; and we call it ungraceful, under the same feeling that

+we call the holding out an arm at right angles to the body ungraceful.

+Conversely, the lax drooping boughs of a weeping-willow are vaguely

+associated with limbs in attitudes requiring little effort to maintain

+them; and the term graceful, by which we describe these, we apply by

+metaphor to the boughs of the willow.

+

+I may as well here venture the hypothesis, that the idea of Grace as

+displayed by other beings, has its subjective basis in Sympathy. The

+same faculty which makes us shudder on seeing another in danger—which

+sometimes causes motions of our own limbs on seeing another struggle

+or fall, gives us a vague participation in all the muscular sensations

+which those around us are experiencing. When their motions are violent

+or awkward, we feel in a slight degree the disagreeable sensations

+which we should have were they our own. When they are easy, we

+sympathize with the pleasant sensations they imply in those exhibiting

+them.

+

+

+ENDNOTE TO _GRACEFULNESS_.

+

+[55] A parallel fact, further elucidating this, is supplied by a

+locomotive engine. On looking at the driving wheel, there will be

+found, besides the boss to which the connecting rod is attached, a

+corresponding mass of metal on the opposite side of the wheel, and

+equidistant from the centre; or, if the engine be one having inside

+cylinders, then, on looking between the spokes of the driving-wheel,

+it will be seen that against each crank is a block of iron, similar

+to it in size, but projecting from the axle in the reverse direction.

+Evidently, being placed on opposite sides of the centre of motion, each

+crank and its counterbalance move in opposite directions relatively to

+the axle; and by so doing, neutralize each other’s perturbing effects,

+and permit a smooth rotation. This relationship which exists between

+the motions of the counterbalance and the crank, is analogous to that

+which exists between the motions of the arms and legs in walking; and

+in the early days of railway-locomotion, before these counterbalance

+weights were used, locomotive driving-wheels were subject to violent

+oscillations, analogous to those jerkings of the shoulders which arise

+when we walk fast without moving our arms.

+

+

+

+

+{387}

+

+PERSONAL BEAUTY.

+

+

+[_First published in_ The Leader _for April 15, and May 13, 1854._]

+

+

+It is a common opinion that beauty of character and beauty of aspect

+are unrelated. I have never been able to reconcile myself to this

+opinion. Indeed, even those who hold it do so in an incomplete sense;

+for notwithstanding their theory they continue to manifest surprise

+when they find a mean deed committed by one of noble countenance—a fact

+implying that underneath their professed induction lies a still living

+conviction at variance with it.

+

+Whence this conviction? How is it that a belief in the connexion

+between worth and beauty primarily exists in all? It cannot be innate.

+Must it not, then, be from early experiences? And must it not be that

+in those who continue to believe in this connexion, spite of their

+reasonings, the early and wide experiences outweigh the later and

+exceptional ones?

+

+Those who do not admit the relationship between mental and facial

+beauty, usually remark that the true connexion is between character

+and expression. While they doubt, or rather deny, that the _permanent_

+forms of the features are {388} in any way indices of the forms of

+the mind, they assert that the _transitory_ forms of the features are

+such indices. These positions seem scarcely consistent. For may we

+not say that the transitory forms, by perpetual repetition, register

+themselves on the face, and _produce_ permanent forms? Does not an

+habitual frown by-and-by leave ineffaceable marks on the brow? Is not

+a chronic scornfulness presently followed by a modified set in the

+angles of the mouth? Does not that compression of the lips significant

+of great determination, often stereotype itself; and so give a changed

+form to the lower part of the face? And if there be any truth in the

+doctrine of hereditary transmission, must there not be a tendency to

+the re-appearance of these modifications as new types of feature in the

+offspring? In brief, may we not say that _expression is feature in the

+making_; and that if expression means something, the form of feature

+produced by it means something?

+

+Possibly it will be urged, in reply, that changes of expression affect

+only the muscles and skin of the face; that the permanent marks they

+produce can extend but to these; that, nevertheless, the beauty of

+a face is mainly dependent upon the form of its bony framework;

+that hence, in this chief respect, there cannot take place such

+modifications as those described; and that, therefore, the relationship

+of aspect to character, while it may hold in the details, does not hold

+in the generals.

+

+The rejoinder is, that the framework of the face _is_ modified by

+modifications in the tissues which cover it. It is an established

+doctrine in physiology, that throughout the skeleton the greater

+or less development of bones is dependent on the greater or less

+development of the attached muscles; that is, on the exercise of them.

+Hence, permanent changes in the muscular adjustments of the face will

+be followed by permanent changes in its osseous structure.

+

+Not to dwell in general statements, however, let me cite cases in which

+the connexion between organic ugliness and {389} mental inferiority,

+and the converse connexion between organic beauty and comparative

+perfection of mind, are distinctly traceable.

+

+It will be admitted that the projecting jaw, characteristic of the

+lower human races, is a facial defect—is a trait which no sculptor

+would give to an ideal bust. At the same time, it is a fact that

+prominence of jaw is associated in the mammalia generally with

+comparative lack of intelligence. This relationship, it is true, does

+not hold uniformly. It is not a direct but an indirect one; and is thus

+liable to be disturbed. Nevertheless, it holds among the higher tribes;

+and on inquiry we shall see why it holds. In conformity with the law

+that organs develop in proportion as they are exercised, the jaws are

+relatively large where the demands made on them are great; and diminish

+in size as their functions become less numerous and less onerous. Now,

+in the lower mammals the jaws are the sole organs of manipulation—are

+used not only for mastication, but for seizing, carrying, gnawing, and,

+indeed, for everything save locomotion, which is the solitary office

+performed by the limbs. Advancing upwards, we find that the fore-limbs

+begin to aid the jaws, and gradually to relieve them of part of their

+duties. Some creatures use them for burrowing; some, as the felines,

+for striking; many, to keep steady the prey they are tearing; and

+when we arrive at the monkeys, whose fore-limbs possess such power

+of prehension that objects can not only be seized, but carried and

+pulled to pieces by them, we see that the jaws have fewer functions.

+Accompanying this series of changes, we see a double change in the form

+of the head. The increased complexity of the limbs, the greater variety

+of actions they perform, and the more numerous perceptions they give,

+imply a greater development of the brain and of its bony envelope. At

+the same time, the size of the jaws has diminished in correspondence

+with the diminution of their functions. And by this simultaneous

+protrusion of the upper part of the cranium {390} and recession of its

+lower part, what is called the _facial angle_ has increased.

+

+Well, these co-ordinate changes in functions and forms have continued

+during the civilization of the human race. On contrasting the European

+and the Papuan, we see that what the one cuts in two with knife and

+fork, the other tears with his jaws; what the one softens by cooking,

+the other eats in its hard, raw state; the bones which the one

+utilises by stewing, the other gnaws; and for sundry of the mechanical

+manipulations which the one has tools for, the other uses his teeth.

+From the Bushman state upwards, there has been a gradual increase

+in the complexity of our appliances. We not only use our hands to

+save our jaws, but we make implements to save our hands; and in our

+engine-factories may be found implements for the making of implements.

+This progression in the arts of life has had intellectual progression

+for its necessary correlative. Each new complication requires a new

+increment of intelligence for its production; and the daily use of

+it develops the intelligence still further. Thus that simultaneous

+protrusion of the brain and recession of the jaws, which among lower

+animals has accompanied increase of skill and sagacity, has continued

+during the advance of Humanity from barbarism to civilization; and has

+been, throughout, the result of a discipline involving increase of

+mental power. And so it becomes manifest that there exists an organic

+relationship between that protuberance of the jaws which we consider

+ugly, and a certain inferiority of nature.

+

+Again, that lateral jutting-out of the cheek-bones, which similarly

+characterizes the lower races of men, and which is similarly thought

+by us a detraction from beauty, is similarly related to lower habits

+and lower intelligence. The chief agents in closing the jaws are the

+temporal muscles; and these are consequently the chief active agents

+in biting and mastication. In proportion as the jaws have much work,

+and correspondingly large size, must the temporal muscles {391} be

+massive. But the temporal muscles pass between the skull and the

+zygomatic arches, or lateral parts of the cheek-bones. Consequently,

+where the temporal muscles are massive, the spaces between the

+zygomatic arches and the skull must be great; and the lateral

+projection of the zygomatic arches great also, as we see it in the

+uncivilized and partially civilized races. Like large jaws, therefore,

+of which it is an accompaniment, excessive size of the cheek-bones is

+both an ugliness and an index of imperfection.

+

+Certain other defects of feature, between which and mental defects it

+is not thus easy to trace the connexion, may yet be fairly presumed

+to have such connexion in virtue of their constant co-existence with

+the foregoing ones: alike in the uncivilized races and in the young

+of the civilized races. Peculiarities of face which we find regularly

+associated with those just shown to be significant of intellectual

+inferiority, and which like them disappear as barbarism grows into

+civilization, may reasonably be concluded to have like them a

+psychological meaning. Thus is it with depression of the bridge of the

+nose; which is a characteristic both of barbarians and of our babes,

+possessed by them in common with the higher quadrumana. Thus, also,

+is it with that forward opening of the nostrils, which renders them

+conspicuous in a front view of the face—a trait alike of infants,

+savages, and apes. And the same may be said of wide-spread alæ to

+the nose, of great width between the eyes, of long mouth, of large

+mouth,—indeed of all those leading peculiarities of feature which are

+by general consent called ugly.

+

+And then mark how, conversely, the type of face usually admitted to

+be the most beautiful, is one that possesses opposite peculiarities.

+In the ideal Greek head, the forehead projects so much, and the jaws

+recede so much, as to render the facial angle larger than we ever find

+it in fact. The cheek-bones are so small as scarcely to be traceable.

+The bridge of the nose is so high as to be almost or quite in {392}

+a line with the forehead. The alæ of the nose join the face with but

+little obliquity. In the front view the nostrils are almost invisible.

+The mouth is small, and the upper lip short and deeply concave. The

+outer angles of the eyes, instead of keeping the horizontal line, as

+is usual, or being directed upwards, as in the Mongolian type, are

+directed slightly downwards. And the form of the brow indicates an

+unusually large frontal sinus—a characteristic entirely absent in

+children, in the lowest of the human races, and in the allied genera of

+the _primates_.

+

+If, then, recession of the forehead, protuberance of the jaws, and

+largeness of the cheek-bones, three leading elements of ugliness,

+are demonstrably indicative of mental inferiority—if such other

+facial defects as great width between the eyes, flatness of the nose,

+spreading of its alæ, frontward opening of the nostrils, length of

+the mouth, and largeness of the lips, are habitually associated with

+these, and disappear along with them as intelligence increases, both

+in the race and in the individual; is it not a fair inference that

+all such faulty traits of feature signify deficiencies of mind? If,

+further, our ideal of human beauty is characterized not simply by the

+absence of these traits, but by the presence of opposite ones—if this

+ideal, as found in sculptures of the Greek gods, has been used to

+represent superhuman power and intelligence—and if the race so using

+it were themselves distinguished by a mental superiority, which, if

+we consider their disadvantages, produced results unparalleled; have

+we not yet stronger reasons for concluding that the chief components

+of beauty and ugliness are severally connected with perfection and

+imperfection of mental nature? And when, lastly, we remember that

+the variations of feature constituting expression are confessedly

+significant of character—when we remember that these tend by repetition

+to organize themselves, to affect not only the skin and muscles

+but the bones of the face, and to be transmitted to offspring—when

+we thus find that there is a {393} psychological meaning alike in

+each passing adjustment of the features, in the marks that habitual

+adjustments leave, in the marks inherited from ancestors, and in

+those main outlines of the facial bones and integuments indicating

+the type or race; are we not almost forced to the conclusion that all

+forms of feature are related to forms of mind, and that we consider

+them admirable or otherwise according as the traits of nature they

+imply are admirable or otherwise? In the extremes the relationship is

+demonstrable. That transitory aspects of face accompany transitory

+mental states, and that we consider these aspects ugly or beautiful

+according as the mental states they accompany are ugly or beautiful,

+no one doubts. That those permanent and most marked aspects of face

+dependent on the bony framework, accompany those permanent and

+most marked mental states which express themselves in barbarism

+and civilization; and that we consider as beautiful those which

+accompany mental superiority, and as ugly those which accompany mental

+inferiority, is equally certain. And if this connexion unquestionably

+holds in the extremes—if, as judged by average facts, and by our

+half-instinctive convictions, it also holds more or less visibly in

+intermediate cases, it becomes an almost irresistible induction, that

+the aspects which please us are the outward correlatives of inward

+perfections, while the aspects which displease us are the outward

+correlatives of inward imperfections.

+

+I am quite aware that when tested in detail this induction seems not

+to be borne out. I know that there are often grand natures behind

+plain faces; and that fine countenances frequently hide small souls.

+But these anomalies do not destroy the general truth of the law, any

+more than the perturbations of planets destroy the general ellipticity

+of their orbits. Some of them, indeed, may be readily accounted for.

+There are many faces spoiled by the misproportion of features that are

+in themselves good; others, by defects of skin, which, though they

+indicate defects of {394} visceral constitution, have no relationship

+to the higher parts of the nature. Moreover the facts that have been

+assigned afford reason for thinking that the leading elements of facial

+beauty are not directly associated with _moral_ characteristics, but

+with _intellectual_ ones—are the results of long-continued civilized

+habits, long cessation of domestic barbarism, long culture of the

+manipulative powers; and so may co-exist with emotional traits not at

+all admirable. It is true that the highest intellectual manifestations

+imply a good balance of the higher feelings; but it is also true that

+great quickness, great sagacity in ordinary affairs, great practical

+skill, can be possessed without these, and very frequently are so. The

+prevalent beauty of the Italians, co-existing though it does with a

+low moral state, becomes, on this hypothesis, reconcileable with the

+general induction; as do also many of the anomalies we see around us.

+

+There is, however, a more satisfactory explanation to be offered than

+any of these—an explanation which I think renders it possible to admit

+the seeming contradictions which the detailed facts present, and yet

+to hold by the theory. But as more space will be required for showing

+this than can here be spared, I must defer going further until next

+week. In the meantime, my own conviction may be expressed in a formula

+in which I have often before uttered it:—The saying that beauty is but

+skin-deep, is but a skin-deep saying.

+

+

+II.

+

+All the civilized races, and probably also the uncivilized ones, are

+of mixed origin; and, as a consequence, have physical and mental

+constitutions in which are mingled several aboriginal constitutions

+more or less differing from each other. This heterogeneity of

+constitution seems to me the chief cause of the incongruities between

+aspect and nature which we daily meet with. Given a pure race, subject

+to constant conditions of climate, food, and habits {395} of life,

+and there is reason to believe that between external appearance and

+internal structure there will be a constant connexion. Unite this race

+with another equally pure, but adapted to different conditions and

+having a correspondingly different physique, face, and mind, and there

+will occur in the descendants, not a homogeneous mean between the two

+constitutions, but a seemingly irregular combination of characteristics

+of the one with characteristics of the other—one feature traceable to

+this race, a second to that, and a third uniting the attributes of

+both; while in disposition and intellect there will be found a like

+medley of the two originals.

+

+The fact that the forms and qualities of any offspring are not a mean

+between the forms and qualities of its parents, but a mixture of

+them, is illustrated in every family. The features and peculiarities

+of a child are separately referred by observers to father and mother

+respectively—nose and mouth to this side; colour of the hair and eyes

+to that—this moral peculiarity to the first; this intellectual one to

+the second—and so with contour and idiosyncrasies of body. Manifestly

+if each organ or faculty in a child was an average of the two

+developments of such organ or faculty in the parents, it would follow

+that all brothers and sisters should be alike; or should, at any rate,

+differ no more than their parents differed from year to year. So far

+however, from finding this to be the case, we find not only that great

+irregularities are produced by mixture of traits, but that there is no

+constancy in the mode of mixture, or the extent of variation produced

+by it.

+

+This imperfect union of parental constitutions in the constitutions of

+offspring, is still more clearly illustrated by the re-appearance of

+peculiarities traceable to bygone generations. Forms, dispositions,

+and diseases, possessed by distant progenitors, habitually come out

+from time to time in descendants. Some single feature, or some solitary

+tendency, will again and again show itself, after being apparently

+lost. It is notoriously thus with gout, scrofula, {396} and insanity.

+On some of the monumental brasses in our old churches are engraved

+heads having traits still persistent in the same families. Wherever,

+as in portrait galleries, a register of ancestral faces has been kept,

+the same fact is more or less apparent. The pertinacity with which

+particular characteristics re-produce themselves is well exemplified

+in America, where traces of negro blood can be detected in the finger

+nails, when no longer visible in the complexion. Among breeders of

+animals it is well known that, after several generations in which no

+visible modifications were traceable, the effects of a cross will

+suddenly make their appearance. In all which facts we see the general

+truth that an organism produced from two organisms constitutionally

+different, is not a homogeneous mean; but is made up of components,

+taken in variable ways and proportions from the originals.

+

+In a recent number of the _Quarterly Journal of the Agricultural

+Society_ were published some facts respecting the mixture of French

+and English races of sheep, bearing collaterally on this point. Sundry

+attempts had been made to improve the poor French breeds by our fine

+English ones. For a long time these attempts failed. The hybrids bore

+no trace of their English male ancestry; but were as dwarfed and

+poverty-stricken as their French dams. Eventually the cause of failure

+was found to lie in the relative heterogeneity and homogeneity of the

+two constitutions. The superior English sheep were of mixed race; the

+French sheep, though inferior, were of pure race; and the compound,

+imperfectly co-ordinated constitution of the one could not maintain

+itself against the simple and completely balanced constitution of the

+other. This, at first an hypothesis, was presently demonstrated. French

+sheep of mixed constitution having been obtained by uniting two of the

+pure French breeds, it was found that these hybrid French sheep, when

+united with the English ones, produced a cross in which the English

+characteristics were duly {397} displayed. Now, this inability of a

+mixed constitution to stand its ground against an unmixed one, quite

+accords with the above induction. An unmixed constitution is one in

+which all the organs are exactly fitted to each other—are perfectly

+balanced: the system as a whole, is in stable equilibrium. A mixed

+constitution, on the contrary, being made up of organs belonging to

+two separate sets, cannot have them in exact fitness—cannot have them

+perfectly balanced; and a system in comparatively unstable equilibrium

+results. But in proportion to the stability of the equilibrium will be

+the power to resist disturbing forces. Hence, when two constitutions,

+in stable and unstable equilibrium respectively, become disturbing

+forces to each other, the unstable one will be overthrown, and the

+stable one will assert itself unchanged.

+

+The imperfect co-ordination of parts in a mixed constitution, and this

+consequent instability of its equilibrium, are intimately connected

+with the vexed question of genera, species, and varieties; and, with a

+view partly to the intrinsic interest of this question, and partly to

+the further elucidation of the topic in hand, I must again digress.

+

+The current physiological test of distinct species is the production

+of a non-prolific hybrid. The ability of the offspring to reproduce

+itself is held to indicate that its parents are of the same species,

+however widely they may differ in appearance; and its inability

+to do this is taken as proof that, nearly allied as its parents

+may seem, they are distinct in kind. Of late, however, facts have

+been accumulating that tend more and more to throw doubt on this

+generalization. Cattle-breeders have established it as a general

+fact, that the offspring of two different breeds of sheep or oxen

+dwindle away in a few generations if allied with themselves; and

+that a good result can be obtained only by mixing them with one or

+other of the original breeds—a fact implying that what is true of

+so-called species, is, under a modified form, true of varieties also.

+{398} The same phenomena are observable in the mixtures of different

+races of men. They, too, it is alleged, cannot maintain themselves as

+separate varieties; but die out unless there is intermarriage with

+the originals. In brief, it seems that the hybrids produced from two

+distinct races of organisms may die out in the first, second, third,

+fourth, fifth, &c., generation, according as the constitutional

+difference of the races is greater or less. Now, the experience of

+the French sheep-breeders, above-quoted, suggests a rationale of

+these various results. For if it be true that an organism produced

+by two unlike organisms is not a mean between them, but a mixture of

+parts of the one with parts of the other—if it be true that these

+parts belonging to two different sets are of necessity imperfectly

+co-ordinated; then it becomes manifest that in proportion as the

+difference between the parent organisms is greater or less, the

+defects of co-ordination in the offspring will be greater or less.

+Whence it follows that, according to the degree of organic incongruity

+between the parents, we may have every gradation in the offspring,

+from a combination of parts so incongruous that it will not work at

+all, up to a combination complete enough to subsist permanently as a

+race. And this is just what we find in fact. Between organisms widely

+differing in character, no intermediate organism is possible. When

+the difference is less, a non-prolific hybrid is produced—an organism

+so ill co-ordinated as to be capable only of incomplete life. When

+the difference is still less, there results an organism capable of

+reproducing itself; but not of bequeathing to its offspring complete

+constitutions. And as the degrees of difference are further diminished,

+the incompleteness of constitution is longer and longer in making its

+appearance; until we come to those varieties of the same species which

+differ so slightly that their offspring are as permanent as themselves.

+Even in these, however, the organic equilibrium seems less perfect;

+as is illustrated {399} in the case I have quoted. And in connexion

+with this inference, it would be interesting to inquire whether pure

+constitutions are not superior to mixed ones, in their power of

+maintaining the balance of vital functions under disturbing conditions.

+Is it not a fact, that the pure breeds are _hardier_ than the mixed

+ones? Are not the mixed ones, though superior in size, less capable of

+resisting unfavourable influences—extremes of temperature, bad food,

+&c.? And is not the like true of mankind?

+

+Returning to the topic in hand, it is manifest that these facts

+and reasonings serve further to enforce the general truth, that

+the offspring of two organisms not identical in constitution is a

+heterogeneous mixture of the two, and not a homogeneous mean between

+them.

+

+If, then, bearing in mind this truth, we remember the composite

+character of the civilized races—the mingling in ourselves, for

+example, of Celt, Saxon, Norman, Dane, with sprinklings of other

+tribes; if we consider the complications of constitution that have

+arisen from the unions of these, not in any uniform manner, but with

+utter irregularity; and if we recollect that the incongruities thus

+produced pervade the whole nature, mental and bodily—nervous tissue

+and other tissues; we shall see that there must exist in all of us an

+imperfect correspondence between parts of the organism that are really

+related; and that as one manifestation of this, there must be more or

+less of discrepancy between the features and those parts of the nervous

+system with which they have a physiological connexion.

+

+If this be so, then the difficulties which stand in the way of the

+belief that beauty of character is related to beauty of face are

+considerably diminished. It becomes possible to admit that plainness

+may co-exist with nobility of nature, and fine features with baseness;

+and yet to hold that mental and facial perfection are fundamentally

+connected, and will, when the present causes of incongruity have worked

+themselves out, be ever found united.

+

+

+

+

+{400}

+

+THE ORIGIN AND FUNCTION OF MUSIC.

+

+

+[_First published in_ Fraser’s Magazine _for October 1857._]

+

+When Carlo, standing, chained to his kennel, sees his master in the

+distance, a slight motion of the tail indicates his but faint hope that

+he is about to be let out. A much more decided wagging of the tail,

+passing by-and-by into lateral undulations of the body, follows his

+master’s nearer approach. When hands are laid on his collar, and he

+knows that he is really to have an outing, his jumping and wriggling

+are such that it is by no means easy to loose his fastenings. And when

+he finds himself actually free, his joy expends itself in bounds, in

+pirouettes, and in scourings hither and thither at the top of his

+speed. Puss, too, by erecting her tail, and by every time raising her

+back to meet the caressing hand of her mistress, similarly expresses

+her gratification by certain muscular actions; as likewise do the

+parrot by awkward dancings on his perch, and the canary by hopping and

+fluttering about his cage with unwonted rapidity. Under emotions of an

+opposite kind, animals equally display muscular excitement. The enraged

+lion lashes his sides with his tail, knits his brows, protrudes his

+claws. The cat sets up her back; the dog retracts his upper lip; the

+horse throws back his ears. And in the struggles of creatures in pain,

+we see that a like relation {401} holds between excitement of the

+muscles and excitement of the nerves of sensation.

+

+In ourselves, distinguished from lower creatures by feelings alike more

+powerful and more varied, parallel facts are at once more conspicuous

+and more numerous. Let us look at them in groups. We shall find that

+pleasurable sensations and painful sensations, pleasurable emotions

+and painful emotions, all tend to produce active demonstrations in

+proportion to their intensity.

+

+In children, and even in adults who are not restrained by regard for

+appearances, a highly agreeable taste is followed by a smacking of the

+lips. An infant will laugh and bound in its nurse’s arms at the sight

+of a brilliant colour or the hearing of a new sound. People are apt to

+beat time with head or feet to music which particularly pleases them.

+In a sensitive person an agreeable perfume will produce a smile; and

+smiles will be seen on the faces of a crowd gazing at some splendid

+burst of fireworks. Even the pleasant sensation of warmth felt on

+getting to the fireside out of a winter’s storm, will similarly express

+itself in the face.

+

+Painful sensations, being mostly far more intense than pleasurable

+ones, cause muscular actions of much more decided kinds. A sudden

+twinge produces a convulsive start of the whole body. A pain less

+violent, but continuous, is accompanied by a knitting of the brows, a

+setting of the teeth or biting of the lip, and a contraction of the

+features generally. Under a persistent pain of a severer kind, other

+muscular actions are added: the body is swayed to and fro; the hands

+clench anything they can lay hold of; and should the agony rise still

+higher, the sufferer rolls about on the floor almost convulsed.

+

+Though more varied, the natural language of the pleasurable emotions

+comes within the same generalization. A smile, which is the commonest

+expression of gratified feeling, is a contraction of certain facial

+muscles; and when the smile broadens into a laugh, we see a more

+violent and {402} more general muscular excitement produced by an

+intenser gratification. Rubbing together of the hands, and that other

+motion which Hood describes as the washing of “hands with invisible

+soap in imperceptible water,” have like implications. Children

+may often be seen to “jump for joy,” Even in adults of excitable

+temperament, an action approaching to it is sometimes witnessed. And

+dancing has all the world through been regarded as natural to an

+elevated state of minds. Many of the special emotions show themselves

+in special muscular actions. The gratification resulting from success,

+raises the head and gives firmness to the gait. A hearty grasp of the

+hand is currently taken as indicative of friendship. Under a gush of

+affection the mother clasps her child to her breast, feeling as though

+she could squeeze it to death. And so in sundry other cases. Even in

+that brightening of the eye with which good news is received we may

+trace the same truth; for this sparkling appearance is due to an extra

+contraction of the muscle which raises the eyelid, and so allows more

+light to fall upon, and be reflected from, the wet surface of the

+eyeball.

+

+The bodily indications of painful emotion are equally numerous, and

+still more vehement. Discontent is shown by raised eyebrows and

+wrinkled forehead; disgust by a curl of the lip, offence by a pout.

+The impatient man beats a tattoo with his fingers on the table, swings

+his pendant leg with increasing rapidity, gives needless pokings to

+the fire, and presently paces with hasty strides about the room. In

+great grief there is wringing of the hands, and even tearing of the

+hair. An angry child stamps, or rolls on its back and kicks its heels

+in the air; and in manhood, anger, first showing itself in frowns, in

+distended nostrils, in compressed lips, goes on to produce grinding of

+the teeth, clenching of the fingers, blows of the fist on the table,

+and perhaps ends in a violent attack on the offending person, or in

+throwing about and breaking the furniture. From {403} that pursing of

+the mouth indicative of slight displeasure, up to the frantic struggles

+of the maniac, we find that mental irritation tends to vent itself in

+bodily activity.

+

+All feelings, then—sensations or emotions, pleasurable or painful—have

+this common characteristic, that they are muscular stimuli. Not

+forgetting the few apparently exceptional cases in which emotions

+exceeding a certain intensity produce prostration, we may set it down

+as a general law, that alike in man and animals, there is a direct

+connexion between feeling and movement; the last growing more vehement

+as the first grows more intense. Were it allowable here to treat the

+matter scientifically, we might trace this general law down to the

+principle known among physiologists as that of _reflex action_.[56]

+Without doing this, however, the above numerous instances justify the

+generalization that every kind of mental excitement ends in excitement

+of the muscles; and that the two preserve a more or less constant ratio

+to each other.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+“But what has all this to do with _The Origin and Function of Music_?”

+asks the reader. Very much, as we shall presently see. All music is

+originally vocal. All vocal sounds are produced by the agency of

+certain muscles. These muscles, in common with those of the body at

+large, are excited to contraction by pleasurable and painful feelings.

+And therefore it is that feelings demonstrate themselves in sounds as

+well as in movements. Therefore it is that Carlo barks as well as leaps

+when he is let out—that puss purrs as well as erects her tail—that the

+canary chirps as well as flutters. Therefore it is that the angry lion

+roars while he lashes his sides, and the dog growls while he retracts

+his lip. Therefore it is that the maimed animal not only struggles, but

+howls. And it is from this cause that in human beings bodily suffering

+expresses itself not only in {404} contortions, but in shrieks and

+groans—that in anger, and fear, and grief, the gesticulations are

+accompanied by shouts and screams—that delightful sensations are

+followed by exclamations—and that we hear screams of joy and shouts of

+exultation.

+

+We have here, then, a principle underlying all vocal phenomena;

+including those of vocal music, and by consequence those of music in

+general. The muscles that move the chest, larynx, and vocal chords,

+contracting like other muscles in proportion to the intensity of the

+feelings; every different contraction of these muscles involving,

+as it does, a different adjustment of the vocal organs; every

+different adjustment of the vocal organs causing a change in the sound

+emitted;—it follows that variations of voice are the physiological

+results of variations of feeling. It follows that each inflection or

+modulation is the natural outcome of some passing emotion or sensation;

+and it follows that the explanation of all kinds of vocal expression,

+must be sought in this general relation between mental and muscular

+excitements. Let us, then, see whether we cannot thus account for the

+chief peculiarities in the utterance of the feelings: grouping these

+peculiarities under the heads of _loudness_, _quality or timbre_,

+_pitch_, _intervals_, and _rate of variation_.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Between the lungs and the organs of voice, there is much the same

+relation as between the bellows of an organ and its pipes. And as the

+loudness of the sound given out by an organ-pipe increases with the

+strength of the blast from the bellows; so, other things equal, the

+loudness of a vocal sound increases with the strength of the blast

+from the lungs. But the expulsion of air from the lungs is effected by

+certain muscles of the chest and abdomen. The force with which these

+muscles contract, is proportionate to the intensity of the feeling

+experienced. Hence, _a priori_, loud sounds will be the habitual

+results of strong feelings. That they are so we have daily proof. The

+pain which {405} if moderate, can be borne silently, causes outcries

+if it becomes extreme. While a slight vexation makes a child whimper,

+a fit of passion calls forth a howl that disturbs the neighbourhood.

+When the voices in an adjacent room become unusually audible, we infer

+anger, or surprise, or joy. Loudness of applause is significant of

+great approbation; and with uproarious mirth we associate the idea of

+high enjoyment. Commencing with the silence of apathy, we find that

+the utterances grow louder as the sensations or emotions, whether

+pleasurable or painful, grow stronger.

+

+That different _qualities_ of voice accompany different mental states,

+and that under states of excitement the tones are more sonorous than

+usual, is another general fact admitting of a parallel explanation.

+The sounds of common conversation have but little resonance; those

+of strong feeling have much more. Under rising ill temper the voice

+acquires a metallic ring. In accordance with her constant mood, the

+ordinary speech of a virago has a piercing quality quite opposite to

+that softness indicative of placidity. A ringing laugh marks joyous

+temperament. Grief, unburdening itself, uses tones approaching in

+_timbre_ to those of chanting; and in his most pathetic passages

+an eloquent speaker similarly falls into tones more vibratory than

+those common to him. Now any one may readily convince himself that

+resonant vocal sounds can be produced only by a certain muscular effort

+additional to that ordinarily needed. If after uttering a word in his

+speaking voice, the reader, without changing the pitch or the loudness,

+will _sing_ this word, he will perceive that before he can sing it,

+he has to alter the adjustment of the vocal organs; to do which a

+certain force must be used; and by putting his fingers on that external

+prominence marking the top of the larynx, he will have further evidence

+that to produce a sonorous tone the organs must be drawn out of their

+usual position. Thus, then, the fact that the tones of excited feeling

+are more vibratory than those of common {406} conversation, is another

+instance of the connexion between mental excitement and muscular

+excitement. The speaking voice, the recitative voice, and the singing

+voice, severally exemplify one general principle.

+

+That the _pitch_ of the voice varies according to the action of the

+vocal muscles, scarcely needs saying. All know that the middle notes,

+in which they converse, are made without appreciable effort; and all

+know that to make either very high notes or very low notes requires

+considerable effort. In either ascending or descending from the pitch

+of ordinary speech, we are conscious of increasing muscular strain,

+which, at each extreme of the register, becomes painful. Hence it

+follows from our general principle, that while indifference or calmness

+will use the medium tones, the tones used during excitement will be

+either above or below them; and will rise higher and higher, or fall

+lower and lower, as the feelings grow stronger. This physiological

+deduction we also find to be in harmony with familiar facts. The

+habitual sufferer utters his complaints in a voice raised considerably

+above the natural key; and agonizing pain vents itself in either

+shrieks or groans—in very high or very low notes. Beginning at his

+talking pitch, the cry of the disappointed urchin grows more shrill as

+it grows louder. The “Oh!” of astonishment or delight, begins several

+notes below the middle voice, and descends still lower. Anger expresses

+itself in high tones, or else in “curses not loud but _deep_.” Deep

+tones, too, are always used in uttering strong reproaches. Such an

+exclamation as “Beware!” if made dramatically—that is, if made with a

+show of feeling—must be many notes lower than ordinary. Further, we

+have groans of disapprobation, groans of horror, groans of remorse. And

+extreme joy and fear are alike accompanied by shrill outcries.

+

+Nearly allied to the subject of pitch, is that of _intervals_; and

+the explanation of them carries our argument a step {407} further.

+While calm speech is comparatively monotonous, emotion makes use of

+fifths, octaves, and even wider intervals. Listen to any one narrating

+or repeating something in which he has no interest, and his voice will

+not wander more than two or three notes above or below his medium

+note, and that by small steps; but when he comes to some exciting

+event he will be heard not only to use the higher and lower notes of

+his register, but to go from one to the other by larger leaps. Being

+unable in print to imitate these traits of feeling, we feel some

+difficulty in fully conveying them to the reader. But we may suggest

+a few remembrances which will perhaps call to mind a sufficiency of

+others. If two men living in the same place, and frequently seeing

+one another, meet, say at a public assembly, any phrase with which

+one accosts the other—as “Hallo, are you here?”—will have an ordinary

+intonation. But if one of them, after a long absence, has unexpectedly

+returned, the expression of surprise with which his friend greets

+him—“Hallo! how came you here?”—will be uttered in much more strongly

+contrasted tones. The two syllables of the word “Hallo” will be, the

+one much higher and the other much lower than before; and the rest of

+the sentence will similarly ascend and descend by longer steps. Again,

+if, supposing her maid to be in an adjoining room, the mistress of the

+house calls “Mary,” the two syllables of the name will be spoken in an

+ascending interval of a third. If Mary does not reply, the call will

+be repeated probably in a descending fifth; implying the slightest

+shade of annoyance at Mary’s inattention. Should Mary still make no

+answer, the increasing annoyance will show itself by the use of a

+descending octave on the next repetition of the call. And supposing the

+silence to continue, the lady, if not of a very even temper, will show

+her irritation at Mary’s seemingly intentional negligence by finally

+calling her in tones still more widely contrasted—the first syllable

+{408} being higher and the last lower than before. Now, these and

+analogous facts, which the reader will readily accumulate, clearly

+conform to the law laid down. For to make large intervals requires

+more muscular action than to make small ones. But not only is the

+_extent_ of vocal intervals thus explicable as due to the relation

+between nervous and muscular excitement, but also, in some degree,

+their _direction_, as ascending or descending. The middle notes being

+those which demand no appreciable effort of muscular adjustment;

+and the effort becoming greater as we either ascend or descend; it

+follows that a departure from the middle notes in either direction

+will mark increasing emotion; while a return towards the middle notes

+will mark decreasing emotion. Hence it happens that an enthusiastic

+person, uttering such a sentence as—“It was the most splendid sight I

+ever saw!” will ascend to the first syllable of the word “splendid,”

+and thence will descend: the word “splendid” marking the climax of

+the feeling produced by the recollection. Hence, again, it happens

+that, under some extreme vexation produced by another’s stupidity,

+an irascible man, exclaiming—“What a confounded fool the fellow is!”

+will begin somewhat below his middle voice, and descending to the word

+“fool,” which he will utter in one of his deepest notes, will then

+ascend. And it may be remarked, that the word “fool” will not only

+be deeper and louder than the rest, but will also have more emphasis

+of articulation—another mode in which muscular excitement is shown.

+There is some danger, however, in giving instances like this; seeing

+that as the mode of rendering will vary according to the intensity of

+the feeling which the reader feigns to himself, the right cadence may

+not be hit upon. With single words there is less difficulty. Thus the

+“Indeed!” with which a surprising fact is received, mostly begins on

+the middle note of the voice, and rises with the second syllable; or,

+if disapprobation as well as astonishment is felt, the {409} first

+syllable will be below the middle note, and the second lower still.

+Conversely, the word “Alas!” which marks not the rise of a paroxysm

+of grief, but its decline, is uttered in a cadence descending towards

+the middle note; or, if the first syllable is in the lower part of

+the register, the second ascends towards the middle note. In the

+“Heigh-ho!” expressive of mental or muscular prostration, we may see

+the same truth; and if the cadence appropriate to it be inverted, the

+absurdity of the effect clearly shows how the meaning of intervals is

+dependent on the principle we have been illustrating.

+

+The remaining characteristic of emotional speech which we have to

+notice, is that of _variability of pitch_. It is scarcely possible here

+to convey adequate ideas of this more complex manifestation. We must

+be content with simply indicating some occasions on which it may be

+observed. On a meeting of friends, for instance—as when there arrives

+a party of much-wished-for visitors—the voices of all will be heard to

+undergo changes of pitch not only greater but much more numerous than

+usual. If a speaker at a public meeting is interrupted by some squabble

+among those he is addressing, his comparatively level tones will be

+in marked contrast with the rapidly changing ones of the disputants.

+And among children, whose feelings are less under control than those

+of adults, this peculiarity is still more decided. During a scene of

+complaint and recrimination between two excitable little girls, the

+voices may be heard to run up and down the gamut several times in

+each sentence. In such cases we once more recognize the same law: for

+muscular excitement is shown not only in strength of contraction, but

+also in the rapidity with which different muscular adjustments succeed

+one another.

+

+Thus we find all the leading vocal phenomena to have a physiological

+basis. They are so many manifestations of the general law that feeling

+is a stimulus to muscular {410} action—a law conformed to throughout

+the whole economy, not of man only, but of every sensitive creature—a

+law, therefore, which lies deep in the nature of animal organization.

+The expressiveness of these various modifications of voice is therefore

+innate. Each of us, from babyhood upwards, has been spontaneously

+making them, when under the various sensations and emotions by which

+they are produced. Having been conscious of each feeling at the same

+time that we heard ourselves make the consequent sound, we have

+acquired an established association of ideas between such sound and

+the feeling which caused it. When the like sound is made by another,

+we ascribe the like feeling to him; and by a further consequence we

+not only ascribe to him that feeling, but have a certain degree of it

+aroused in ourselves: for to become conscious of the feeling which

+another is experiencing, is to have that feeling awakened in our own

+consciousness, which is the same thing as experiencing the feeling.

+Thus these various modifications of voice become not only a language

+through which we understand the emotions of others, but also the means

+of exciting our sympathy with such emotions.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Have we not here, then, adequate data for a theory of music? These

+vocal peculiarities which indicate excited feeling, _are those which

+especially distinguish song from ordinary speech_. Every one of the

+alterations of voice which we have found to be a physiological result

+of pain or pleasure, _is carried to an extreme in vocal music_. For

+instance, we saw that, in virtue of the general relation between mental

+and muscular excitement, one characteristic of passionate utterance is

+_loudness_. Well, its comparative loudness is one of the distinctive

+marks of song as contrasted with the speech of daily life. Though

+there are _piano_ passages in contrast with the _forte_ passages, yet

+the average loudness of the singing voice is much greater than {411}

+that of the speaking voice; and further, the _forte_ passages of an

+air are those intended to represent the climax of its emotion. We

+next saw that the tones in which emotion expresses itself, are, in

+conformity with this same law, of a more sonorous _timbre_ than those

+of calm conversation. Here, too, song displays a still higher degree

+of the peculiarity; for the singing tone is the most resonant we can

+make. Again, it was shown that, from a like cause, mental excitement

+vents itself in the higher and lower notes of the register; using the

+middle notes but seldom. And it scarcely needs saying that vocal music

+is still more distinguished by its comparative neglect of the notes in

+which we talk, and its habitual use of those above or below them; and,

+moreover, that its most passionate effects are commonly produced at

+the two extremities of its scale, but especially at the upper one. A

+yet further trait of strong feeling, similarly accounted for, was the

+habitual employment of larger intervals than are employed in common

+converse. This trait, also, every ballad and _aria_ systematically

+elaborates: add to which, that the direction of these intervals, which,

+as diverging from or converging towards the medium tones, we found to

+be physiologically expressive of increasing or decreasing emotion,

+may be observed to have in music like meanings. Once more, it was

+pointed out that not only extreme but also rapid variations of pitch,

+are characteristic of mental excitement; and once more we see in the

+quick changes of every melody, that song carries the characteristic as

+far, if not farther. Thus, in respect alike of _loudness_, _timbre_,

+_pitch_, _intervals_, and _rate of variation_, song employs and

+exaggerates the natural language of the emotions;—it arises from a

+systematic combination of those vocal peculiarities which are the

+physiological effects of acute pleasure and pain.

+

+Besides these chief characteristics of song as distinguished from

+common speech, there are sundry minor ones {412} similarly explicable

+as due to the relation between mental and muscular excitement; and

+before proceeding further, these should be briefly noticed. Thus,

+certain passions, and perhaps all passions when pushed to an extreme,

+produce (probably through their influence over the action of the heart)

+an effect the reverse of that which has been described: they cause a

+physical prostration, one symptom of which is a general relaxation

+of the muscles, and a consequent trembling. We have the trembling of

+anger, of fear, of hope, of joy; and the vocal muscles being implicated

+with the rest, the voice too becomes tremulous. Now, in singing,

+this tremulousness of voice is effectively used by some vocalists in

+pathetic passages; sometimes, indeed, because of its effectiveness,

+too much used by them—as by Tamberlik, for instance. Again, there

+is a mode of musical execution known as the _staccato_, appropriate

+to energetic passages—to passages expressive of exhilaration, of

+resolution, of confidence. The action of the vocal muscles which

+produces this staccato style, is analogous to the muscular action which

+produces the sharp, decisive, energetic movements of body indicating

+these states of mind; and therefore it is that the staccato style

+has the meaning we ascribe to it. Conversely, slurred intervals are

+expressive of gentler and less active feelings; and are so because they

+imply the smaller muscular vivacity due to a lower mental energy. The

+difference of effect resulting from difference of _time_ in music, is

+also attributable to this same law. Already it has been pointed out

+that the more frequent changes of pitch which ordinarily result from

+passion, are imitated and developed in song; and here we have to add,

+that the various rates of such changes, appropriate to the different

+styles of music, are further traits having the same derivation. The

+slowest movements, _largo_ and _adagio_, are used where such depressing

+emotions as grief, or such unexciting emotions as reverence, are to be

+portrayed; while the more rapid movements, _andante_, {413} _allegro_,

+_presto_, represent successively increasing degrees of mental vivacity;

+and do this because they imply that muscular activity which flows

+from this mental vivacity. Even the _rhythm_, which forms a remaining

+distinction between song and speech, may not improbably have a kindred

+cause. Why the actions excited by strong feeling should tend to become

+rhythmical, is not obvious; but that they do so there are divers

+evidences. There is the swaying of the body to and fro under pain or

+grief, of the leg under impatience or agitation. Dancing, too, is a

+rhythmical action natural to elevated emotion. That under excitement

+speech acquires a certain rhythm, we may occasionally perceive in the

+highest efforts of an orator. In poetry, which is a form of speech used

+for the better expression of emotional ideas, we have this rhythmical

+tendency developed. And when we bear in mind that dancing, poetry, and

+music are connate—are originally constituent parts of the same thing,

+it becomes clear that the measured movement common to them all implies

+a rhythmical action of the whole system, the vocal apparatus included;

+and that so the rhythm of music is a more subtle and complex result of

+this relation between mental and muscular excitement.

+

+But it is time to end this analysis, which possibly we have already

+carried too far. It is not to be supposed that the more special

+peculiarities of musical expression are to be definitely explained.

+Though probably they may all in some way conform to the principle that

+has been worked out, it is impracticable to trace that principle in its

+more ramified applications. Nor is it needful to our argument that it

+should be so traced. The foregoing facts sufficiently prove that what

+we regard as the distinctive traits of song, are simply the traits

+of emotional speech intensified and systematized. In respect of its

+general characteristics, we think it has been made clear that vocal

+music, and by {414} consequence all music, is an idealization of the

+natural language of passion.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+As far as it goes, the scanty evidence furnished by history confirms

+this conclusion. Note first the fact (not properly an historical one,

+but fitly grouped with such) that the dance-chants of savage tribes

+are very monotonous; and in virtue of their monotony are more nearly

+allied to ordinary speech than are the songs of civilized races.

+Joining with this the fact that there are still extant among boatmen

+and others in the East, ancient chants of a like monotonous character,

+we may infer that vocal music originally diverged from emotional speech

+in a gradual, unobtrusive manner; and this is the inference to which

+our argument points. From the characters of the intervals the same

+conclusion may be drawn.

+

+ “The songs of savages in the lowest scale of civilization are

+ generally confined to the compass of few notes, seldom extending

+ beyond the interval of the _fifth_. Sometimes, however, a sudden

+ transition into the octave occurs, especially in sudden exclamations,

+ or where a word naturally dictates an emphatic raising of the

+ voice. The _fifth_ especially plays a prominent part in primitive

+ vocal music. . . . But it must not be supposed that each interval

+ is distinctly intoned: on the contrary, in the transition from one

+ interval to another, all the intermediate intervals are slightly

+ touched in a way somewhat similar to a violinist drawing his finger

+ rapidly over the string from one note to another to connect them;

+ and as the intervals themselves are seldom clearly defined, it will

+ easily be understood how nearly impossible it is to write down such

+ songs in our notation so as to convey a correct idea of their natural

+ effect.”[57]

+

+Further evidence to the same effect is supplied by Greek history.

+The early poems of the Greeks—which, be it remembered, were sacred

+legends embodied in that rhythmical, metaphorical language which strong

+feeling excites—were not recited, but chanted: the tones and cadences

+{415} were made musical by the same influences which made the speech

+poetical. By those who have investigated the matter, this chanting

+is believed to have been not what we call singing, but nearly allied

+to our recitative—nearly allied but simpler. Several facts conspire

+to show this. The earliest stringed instruments had sometimes four,

+sometimes five strings: Egyptian frescoes delineate some of the simpler

+harps as thus constituted, and there are kindred representations of

+the lyres and allied instruments of the Assyrians, Hebrews, Greeks and

+Romans. That the earliest Greek lyre had but four strings, and that the

+recitative of the poet was uttered in unison with its sounds, Neumann

+finds definite proof in a verse ascribed to Terpander, celebrating his

+introduction of the seven-stringed lyre:―

+

+ “The four-tonèd hymns now rejecting,

+   And yearning for songs new and sweet,

+ With seven strings softly vibrating,

+   The lyre anon shall we greet.”

+

+Hence it follows that the primitive recitative was simpler than our

+modern recitative, and, as such, much less remote from common speech

+than our own singing is. For recitative, or musical recitation, is in

+all respects intermediate between speech and song. Its average effects

+are not so _loud_ as those of song. Its tones are less sonorous in

+_timbre_ than those of song. Commonly it diverges to a smaller extent

+from the middle notes—uses notes neither so high nor so low in _pitch_.

+The _intervals_ habitual to it are neither so wide nor so varied. Its

+_rate of variation_ is not so rapid. And at the same time that its

+primary _rhythm_ is less decided, it has none of that secondary rhythm

+produced by recurrence of the same or parallel musical phrases, which

+is one of the marked characteristics of song. Thus, then, we may not

+only infer, from the evidence furnished by existing barbarous tribes,

+that the vocal music of pre-historic times was emotional speech very

+slightly exalted; but we see that the earliest vocal music of which we

+have {416} any account, differed much less from emotional speech than

+does the vocal music of our days.

+

+That recitative—beyond which, by the way, the Chinese and Hindoos

+seem never to have advanced—grew naturally out of the modulations and

+cadences of strong feeling, we have indeed current evidence. There are

+even now to be met with occasions on which strong feeling vents itself

+in this form. Whoever has been present when a meeting of Quakers was

+addressed by one of their number (whose practice it is to speak only

+under the influence of religious emotion), must have been struck by

+the quite unusual tones, like those of a subdued chant, in which the

+address was made. On passing a chapel in Wales during service, the

+raised and sing-song voice of the preacher draws the attention. It is

+clear, too, that the intoning used in churches is representative of

+this mental state; and has been adopted on account of the congruity

+between it and the contrition, supplication, or reverence, verbally

+expressed.

+

+And if, as we have good reason to believe, recitative arose by degrees

+out of emotional speech, it becomes manifest that by a continuance

+of the same process song has arisen out of recitative. Just as, from

+the orations and legends of savages, expressed in the metaphorical,

+allegorical style natural to them, there sprung epic poetry, out of

+which lyric poetry was afterwards developed; so, from the exalted

+tones and cadences in which such orations and legends were delivered,

+came the chant or recitative music, from which lyrical music has since

+grown up. And there has not only thus been a simultaneous and parallel

+genesis, but there has been reached a parallelism of results. For

+lyrical poetry differs from epic poetry, just as lyrical music differs

+from recitative: each still further intensifies the natural language

+of the emotions. Lyrical poetry is more metaphorical, more hyperbolic,

+more elliptical, and adds the rhythm of lines to the rhythm of feet;

+just as lyrical music is louder, more sonorous, more extreme in its

+{417} intervals, and adds the rhythm of phrases to the rhythm of

+bars. And the known fact that out of epic poetry the stronger passions

+developed lyrical poetry as their appropriate vehicle, strengthens the

+inference that they similarly developed lyrical music out of recitative.

+

+Nor indeed are we without evidences of the transition. It needs but

+to listen to an opera to hear the leading gradations. Between the

+comparatively level recitative of ordinary dialogue, the more varied

+recitative with wider intervals and higher tones used in exciting

+scenes, the still more musical recitative which preludes an air, and

+the air itself, the successive steps are but small; and the fact that

+among airs themselves gradations of like nature may be traced, further

+confirms the conclusion that the highest form of vocal music was

+arrived at by degrees.

+

+We have some clue to the influences which have induced this

+development; and may roughly conceive the process of it. As the

+tones, intervals, and cadences of strong emotion were the elements

+out of which song was elaborated; so, we may expect to find that

+still stronger emotion produced the elaboration; and we have evidence

+implying this. Musical composers are men of acute sensibilities. The

+Life of Mozart depicts him as one of intensely active affections

+and highly impressionable temperament. Various anecdotes represent

+Beethoven as very susceptible and very passionate. Mendelssohn is

+described by those who knew him as having been full of fine feeling.

+And the almost incredible sensitiveness of Chopin has been illustrated

+in the memoirs of George Sand. An unusually emotional nature being thus

+the general characteristic of musical composers, we have in it just

+the agency required for the development of recitative and song. Any

+cause of excitement will generate just those exaggerations which we

+have found to distinguish the lower vocal music from emotional speech,

+and the higher vocal music from the lower. Thus it becomes credible

+that the four-toned recitative of the {418} early Greek poets (like

+all poets, nearly allied to composers in the comparative intensity of

+their feelings), was really nothing more than the slightly exaggerated

+emotional speech natural to them, which grew by frequent use into

+an organized form. And we may infer that the accumulated agency of

+subsequent poet-musicians, inheriting and adding to the products of

+those who went before them, sufficed, in the course of many centuries,

+to develope this simple four-toned recitative into a vocal music having

+great complexity and range.

+

+Not only may we so understand how more sonorous tones, greater extremes

+of pitch, and wider intervals, were gradually introduced; but also how

+there arose a greater variety and complexity of musical expression.

+For this same passionate, enthusiastic temperament, which leads the

+musical composer to express the feelings possessed by others as well as

+himself, in more marked cadences than they would use, also leads him to

+give musical utterance to feelings which they either do not experience,

+or experience in but slight degrees. And thus we may in some measure

+understand how it happens that music not only so strongly excites

+our more familiar feelings, but also produces feelings we never had

+before—arouses dormant sentiments of which we do not know the meaning;

+or, as Richter says—tells us of things we have not seen and shall not

+see.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Indirect evidences of several kinds remain to be briefly pointed

+out. One of them is the difficulty, not to say impossibility, of

+otherwise accounting for the expressiveness of music. Whence comes

+it that special combinations of notes should have special effects

+upon our emotions?—that one should give us a feeling of exhilaration,

+another of melancholy, another of affection, another of reverence?

+Is it that these special combinations have intrinsic meanings apart

+from the human constitution?—that a certain number of aërial waves

+per second, followed by a certain other {419} number, in the nature

+of things signify grief, while in the reverse order they signify

+joy; and similarly with all other intervals, phrases, and cadences?

+Few will be so irrational as to think this. Is it, then, that the

+meanings of these special combinations are conventional only?—that

+we learn their implications, as we do those of words, by observing

+how others understand them? This is an hypothesis not only devoid of

+evidence, but directly opposed to the experience of every one; and

+it is excluded by the fact that children, unconventionalised though

+they are, show great susceptibility to music. How, then, are musical

+effects to be explained? If the theory above set forth be accepted,

+the difficulty disappears. If music, taking for its raw material the

+various modifications of voice which are the physiological results of

+excited feeling, intensifies, combines, and complicates them—if it

+exaggerates the loudness, the resonance, the pitch, the intervals,

+and the variability, which, in virtue of an organic law, are the

+characteristics of passionate speech—if, by carrying out these further,

+more consistently, more unitedly, and more sustainedly,it produces

+an idealized language of emotion; then its power over us becomes

+comprehensible. But in the absence of this theory the expressiveness of

+music appears inexplicable.

+

+Again, the preference we feel for certain qualities of sound presents

+a like difficulty, admitting only of a like solution. It is generally

+agreed that the tones of the human voice are more pleasing than any

+others. If music takes its rise from the modulations of the human voice

+under emotion, it is a natural consequence that the tones of that voice

+appeal to our feelings more than any others, and are considered more

+beautiful than any others. But deny that music has this origin, and the

+only alternative is the untenable one that the vibrations proceeding

+from a vocalist’s throat are, objectively considered, of a higher order

+than those from a horn or a violin.

+

+Once more, the question—How is the expressiveness of {420} music to be

+otherwise accounted for? may be supplemented by the question—How is the

+genesis of music to be otherwise accounted for? That music is a product

+of civilization, is manifest; for though some of the lowest savages

+have their dance-chants, these are of a kind scarcely to be dignified

+by the title musical: at most, they supply but the vaguest rudiment

+of music, properly so called. And if music has been by slow steps

+developed in the course of civilization, it must have been developed

+out of something. If, then, its origin is not that above alleged, what

+is its origin?

+

+Thus we find that the negative evidence confirms the positive, and

+that, taken together, they furnish strong proof. We have seen that

+there is a physiological relation, common to man and all animals,

+between feeling and muscular action; that as vocal sounds are produced

+by muscular action, there is a consequent physiological relation

+between feeling and vocal sounds; that all the modifications of voice

+expressive of feeling are the direct results of this physiological

+relation; that music, adopting all these modifications, intensifies

+them more and more as it ascends to its higher and higher forms;

+that, from the ancient epic poet chanting his verses, down to the

+modern musical composer, men of unusually strong feelings prone to

+express them in extreme forms, have been naturally the agents of these

+successive intensifications; and that so there has little by little

+arisen a wide divergence between this idealized language of emotion

+and its natural language: to which direct evidence we have just added

+the indirect—that on no other tenable hypothesis can either the

+expressiveness of music or the genesis of music be explained.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+And now, what is the _function_ of music? Has music any effect beyond

+the immediate pleasure it produces? Analogy suggests that it has. The

+enjoyments of a good dinner do not end with themselves, but minister to

+bodily well-being. Though people do not marry with a view to maintain

+the race, yet the passions which impel them to marry secure its {421}

+maintenance. Parental affection is a feeling which, while it conduces

+to parental happiness, ensures the nurture of offspring. Men love to

+accumulate property, often without thought of the benefits it produces;

+but in pursuing the pleasure of acquisition they indirectly open the

+way to other pleasures. The wish for public approval impels all of

+us to do many things which we should otherwise not do,—to undertake

+great labours, face great dangers, and habitually rule ourselves in

+ways that smooth social intercourse; so that, in gratifying our love

+of approbation we subserve divers ulterior purposes. And, generally,

+our nature is such that in fulfilling each desire, we in some way

+facilitate fulfilment of the rest. But the love of music seems to exist

+for its own sake. The delights of melody and harmony do not obviously

+minister to the welfare either of the individual or of society. May we

+not suspect, however, that this exception is apparent only? Is it not

+a rational inquiry—What are the indirect benefits which accrue from

+music, in addition to the direct pleasure it gives?

+

+But that it would take us too far out of our track, we should prelude

+this inquiry by illustrating at some length a certain general law

+of progress;—the law that alike in occupations, sciences, arts, the

+divisions which had a common root, but by gradual divergence have

+become distinct, and are now being separately developed, are not truly

+independent, but severally act and react on one another to their mutual

+advancement. Merely hinting thus much, however, by way of showing that

+there are many analogies to justify us, we go on to express the opinion

+that there exists a relationship of this kind between music and speech.

+

+All speech is compounded of two elements, the words and the tones in

+which they are uttered—the signs of ideas and the signs of feelings.

+While certain articulations express the thought, certain modulations

+express the more or less of pain or pleasure which the thought gives.

+Using the word _cadence_ in an unusually extended sense, as {422}

+comprehending all variations of voice, we may say that _cadence is the

+commentary of the emotions upon the propositions of the intellect_.

+This duality of spoken language, though not formally recognized, is

+recognized in practice by every one; and every one knows that very

+often more weight attaches to the tones than to the words. Daily

+experience supplies cases in which the same sentence of disapproval

+will be understood as meaning little or meaning much, according to the

+vocal inflections which accompany it; and daily experience supplies

+still more striking cases in which words and tones are in direct

+contradiction—the first expressing consent, while the last express

+reluctance; and the last being believed rather than the first.

+

+These two distinct but interwoven elements of speech have been

+undergoing a simultaneous development. We know that in the course of

+civilization words have been multiplied, new parts of speech have been

+introduced, sentences have grown more varied and complex; and we may

+fairly infer that during the same time new modifications of voice have

+come into use, fresh intervals have been adopted, and cadences have

+become more elaborate. For while, on the one hand, it is absurd to

+suppose that, along with the undeveloped verbal forms of barbarism,

+there existed developed vocal inflections; it is, on the other hand,

+necessary to suppose that, along with the higher and more numerous

+verbal forms needed to convey the multiplied and complicated ideas of

+civilized life, there have grown up those more involved changes of

+voice which express the feelings proper to such ideas. If intellectual

+language is a growth, so also, without doubt, is emotional language a

+growth.

+

+Now, the hypothesis which we have hinted above, is that, beyond the

+direct pleasure which it gives, music has the indirect effect of

+developing this language of the emotions. Having its root, as we

+have endeavoured to show, in those tones, intervals, and cadences of

+speech which express {423} feeling—arising by the combination and

+intensifying of these, and coming finally to have an embodiment of its

+own; music has all along been reacting upon speech, and increasing

+its power of rendering emotion. The use in recitative and song of

+inflections more expressive than ordinary ones, must from the beginning

+have tended to develope the ordinary ones. The complex musical phrases

+by which composers have conveyed complex emotions, may rationally

+be supposed to influence us in making those involved cadences of

+conversation by which we convey our subtler thoughts and feelings. If

+the cultivation of music has any effect on the mind, what more natural

+effect is there than this of developing our perception of the meanings

+of qualities, and modulations of voice; and giving us a correspondingly

+increased power of using them? Just as chemistry, arising out of

+the processes of metallurgy and the industrial arts, and gradually

+growing into an independent study, has now become an aid to all kinds

+of production—just as physiology, originating from medicine and once

+subordinate to it, but latterly pursued for its own sake, is in our day

+coming to be the science on which the progress of medicine depends;—so,

+music, having its root in emotional language, and gradually evolved

+from it, has ever been reacting upon and further advancing it.

+

+It will scarcely be expected that much direct evidence in support of

+this conclusion can be given. The facts are of a kind which it is

+difficult to measure, and of which we have no records. Some suggestive

+traits, however, are to be noted. May we not say, for instance, that

+the Italians, among whom modern music was earliest cultivated, and who

+have more especially excelled in melody (the division of music with

+which our argument is chiefly concerned)—may we not say that these

+Italians speak in more varied and expressive inflections and cadences

+than any other people? On the other hand, may we not say that, confined

+almost exclusively as they have hitherto been to their national {424}

+airs, and therefore accustomed to but a limited range of musical

+expression, the Scotch are unusually monotonous in the intervals and

+modulations of their speech? And again, do we not find among different

+classes of the same nation, differences that have like implications?

+The gentleman and the clown stand in decided contrast with respect to

+variety of intonation. Listen to the conversation of a servant-girl,

+and then to that of a refined lady, and the more delicate and complex

+changes of voice used by the latter will be conspicuous. Now, without

+going so far as to say that out of all the differences of culture to

+which the upper and lower classes are subjected, difference of musical

+culture is that to which alone this difference of speech is ascribable;

+yet we may fairly say that there seems a much more obvious connexion of

+cause and effect between these than between any others. Thus, while the

+inductive evidence to which we can appeal is but scanty and vague, yet

+what there is favours our position.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Probably most will think that the function here assigned to music is

+one of very little moment. But reflection may lead them to a contrary

+conviction. In its bearings upon human happiness, this emotional

+language which musical culture develops and refines, is only second in

+importance to the language of the intellect; perhaps not even second

+to it. For these modifications of voice produced by feelings, are the

+means of exciting like feelings in others. Joined with gestures and

+expressions of face, they give life to the otherwise dead words in

+which the intellect utters its ideas; and so enable the hearer not only

+to _understand_ the state of mind they accompany, but to _partake_ of

+that state. In short, they are the chief media of _sympathy_. And if we

+consider how much both our general welfare and our immediate pleasures

+depend on sympathy, we shall recognize the importance of whatever makes

+this sympathy greater. If we bear in mind that by their fellow-feeling

+men are led {425} to behave justly and kindly to one another—that

+the difference between the cruelty of the barbarous and the humanity

+of the civilized, results from the increase of fellow-feeling; if we

+bear in mind that this faculty which makes us sharers in the joys and

+sorrows of others, is the basis of all the higher affections; if we

+bear in mind how much our direct gratifications are intensified by

+sympathy,—how, at the theatre, the concert, the picture gallery, we

+lose half our enjoyment if we have no one to enjoy with us;—we shall

+see that the agencies which communicate it can scarcely be overrated

+in value. The tendency of civilization is to repress the antagonistic

+elements of our characters and to develope the social ones—to curb

+our purely selfish desires and exercise our unselfish ones—to replace

+private gratifications by gratifications resulting from, or involving,

+the pleasures of others. And while, by this adaptation to the social

+state, the sympathetic side of our nature is being unfolded, there

+is simultaneously growing up a language of sympathetic intercourse—a

+language through which we communicate to others the happiness we feel,

+and are made sharers in their happiness. This double process, of which

+the effects are already appreciable, must go on to an extent of which

+we can as yet have no adequate conception. The habitual concealment of

+our feelings diminishing, as it must, in proportion as our feelings

+become such as do not demand concealment, the exhibition of them will

+become more vivid than we now dare allow it to be; and this implies

+a more expressive emotional language. At the same time, feelings

+of higher and more complex kinds, as yet experienced only by the

+cultivated few, will become general; and there will be a corresponding

+development of the emotional language into more involved forms. Just as

+there has silently grown up a language of ideas, which, rude as it at

+first was, now enables us to convey with precision the most subtle and

+complicated thoughts; so, there is still silently growing up a language

+of feelings, which, notwithstanding its present {426} imperfection, we

+may expect will ultimately enable men vividly and completely to impress

+on each other the emotions which they experience from moment to moment.

+

+Thus if, as we have endeavoured to show, it is the function of music to

+facilitate the development of this emotional language, we may regard

+music as an aid to the achievement of that higher happiness which it

+indistinctly shadows forth. Those vague feelings of unexperienced

+felicity which music arouses—those indefinite impressions of an unknown

+ideal life which it calls up, may be considered as a prophecy, the

+fulfilment of which music itself aids. The strange capacity which we

+have for being affected by melody and harmony, may be taken to imply

+both that it is within the possibilities of our nature to realize those

+intenser delights they dimly suggest, and that they are in some way

+concerned in the realization of them. If so the power and the meaning

+of music become comprehensible; but otherwise they are a mystery.

+

+We will only add that, if the probability of these corollaries be

+admitted, then music must take rank as the highest of the fine arts—as

+the one which, more than any other, ministers to human welfare. And

+thus, even leaving out of view the immediate gratifications it is

+hourly giving, we cannot too much applaud that musical culture which is

+becoming one of the characteristics of our age.

+

+

+POSTSCRIPT.

+

+An opponent, or partial opponent, of high authority, whose views were

+published some fourteen years after the above essay, must here be

+answered: I mean Mr. Darwin. Diligent and careful as an observer beyond

+naturalists in general, and still more beyond those who are untrained

+in research, his judgment on a question which must be {427} decided by

+induction is one to be received with great respect. I think, however,

+examination will show that in this instance Mr. Darwin’s observations

+are inadequate, and his reasonings upon them inconclusive. Swayed

+by his doctrine of sexual selection, he has leaned towards the view

+that music had its origin in the expression of amatory feeling, and

+has been led to over-estimate such evidence as he thinks favours that

+view, while ignoring the difficulties in its way, and the large amount

+of evidence supporting another view. Before considering the special

+reasons for dissenting from his hypothesis, let us look at the most

+general reasons.

+

+The interpretation of music which Mr. Darwin gives, agrees with my own

+in supposing music to be developed from vocal noises; but differs in

+supposing a particular class of vocal noises to have originated it—the

+amatory class. I have aimed to show that music has its germs in the

+sounds which the voice emits under excitement, and eventually gains

+this or that character according to the kind of excitement; whereas

+Mr. Darwin argues that music arises from those sounds which the male

+makes during the excitements of courtship, that they are consciously

+made to charm the female, and that from the resulting combinations of

+sounds arise not love-music only but music in general. That certain

+tones of voice and cadences having some likeness of nature are

+spontaneously used to express grief, others to express joy, others to

+express affection, and others to express triumph or martial ardour, is

+undeniable. According to the view I have set forth, the whole body of

+these vocal manifestations of emotion form the root of music. According

+to Mr. Darwin’s view, the sounds which are prompted by the amatory

+feeling only, having originated musical utterance, there are derived

+from these all the other varieties of musical utterance which aim to

+express other kinds of feeling. This roundabout derivation has, I

+think, less probability than the direct derivation. {428}

+

+This antithesis and its implications will perhaps be more clearly

+understood on looking at the facts under their nervo-muscular aspect.

+Mr. Darwin recognizes the truth of the doctrine with which the

+foregoing essay sets out, that feeling discharges itself in action:

+saying of the air-breathing vertebrata that―

+

+ “When the primeval members of this class were strongly excited and

+ their muscles violently contracted, purposeless sounds would almost

+ certainly have been produced; and these, if they proved in any way

+ serviceable, might readily have been modified or intensified by the

+ preservation of properly adapted variations.” (_The Descent of Man_,

+ vol. ii., p. 331.)

+

+But though this passage recognizes the general relation between

+feelings and those muscular contractions which cause sounds, it does so

+inadequately; since it ignores, on the one hand, those loudest sounds

+which accompany intense sensations—the shrieks and groans of bodily

+agony; while, on the other hand, it ignores those multitudinous sounds

+not produced “under the excitement of love, rage, and jealousy,” but

+which accompany ordinary amounts of feelings, various in their kinds.

+And it is because he does not bear in mind how large a proportion of

+vocal noises are caused by other excitements, that Mr. Darwin thinks “a

+strong case can be made out, that the vocal organs were primarily used

+and perfected in relation to the propagation of the species” (p. 330).

+

+Certainly the animals around us yield but few facts countenancing his

+view. The cooing of pigeons may, indeed, be named in its support; and

+it may be contended that caterwauling furnishes evidence; though I

+doubt whether the sounds are made by the male to charm the female. But

+the howling of dogs has no relation to sexual excitements; nor has

+their barking, which is used to express emotion of almost any kind.

+Pigs grunt sometimes through pleasurable expectation, sometimes during

+the gratifications of eating, sometimes from a general content while

+seeking about for food. The bleatings of sheep, again, occur under the

+promptings of various feelings, usually of no great {429} intensity:

+social and maternal rather than sexual. The like holds with the lowing

+of cattle. Nor is it otherwise with poultry. The quacking of ducks

+indicates general satisfaction, and the screams occasionally vented by

+a flock of geese seem rather to express a wave of social excitement

+than anything else. Save after laying an egg, when the sounds have

+the character of triumph, the cluckings of a hen show content; and on

+various occasions cock-crowing apparently implies good spirits only.

+In all cases an overflow of nervous energy has to find vent; and while

+in some cases it leads to wagging of the tail, in others it leads to

+contraction of the vocal muscles. That this relation holds, not of one

+kind of feeling, but of many kinds, is a truth which seems to me at

+variance with the view “that the vocal organs were primarily used and

+perfected in relation to the propagation of the species.”

+

+The hypothesis that music had its origin in the amatory sounds made

+by the male to charm the female, has the support of the popular idea

+that the singing of birds constitutes a kind of courtship—an idea

+adopted by Mr. Darwin when he says that “the male pours forth his

+full volume of song, in rivalry with other males, for the sake of

+captivating the female.” Usually, Mr. Darwin does not accept without

+criticism and verification, the beliefs he finds current; but in this

+case he seems to have done so. Even cursory observation suffices to

+dissipate this belief, initiated, I suppose, by poets. In preparation

+for dealing with the matter I have made memoranda concerning various

+songbirds, dating back to 1883. On the 7th of February of that year I

+heard a lark singing several times; and, still more remarkably, during

+the mild winter of 1884 I saw one soar, and heard it sing, on the

+10th January. Yet the lark does not pair till March. Having heard the

+redbreast near the close of August, 1888, I noted the continuance of

+its song all through the autumn and winter, up to Christmas {430} eve,

+Christmas day, the 29th of December, and again on the 18th January,

+1889. How common is the singing of the thrush during mild weather in

+winter, everyone must have observed. The presence of thrushes behind my

+house has led to the making of notes on this point. The male sang in

+November, 1889; I noted the song again on Christmas eve, again on the

+13th January, 1890, and from time to time all through the rest of that

+month. I heard little of his song in February, which is the pairing

+season; and none at all, save a few notes early in the morning, during

+the period of rearing the young. But now that, in the middle of May,

+the young, reared in a nest in my garden, have sometime since flown,

+he has recommenced singing vociferously at intervals throughout the

+day; and doubtless, in conformity with what I have observed elsewhere,

+will go on singing till July. How marked is the direct relation between

+singing and the conditions which cause high spirits, is perhaps best

+shown by a fact I noted on the 4th December, 1888, when, the day being

+not only mild but bright, the copses on Holmwood Common, Dorking,

+were vocal just as on a spring day, with a chorus of birds of various

+kinds—robins, thrushes, chaffinches, linnets, and sundry others of

+which I did not know the names. Ornithological works furnish verifying

+statements. Wood states that the hedge-sparrow continues “to sing

+throughout a large portion of the year, and only ceasing during the

+time of the ordinary moult.” The song of the blackcap, he says, “is

+hardly suspended throughout the year;” and of caged birds which sing

+continuously, save when moulting, he names the grosbeak, the linnet,

+the goldfinch, and the siskin.

+

+I think these facts show that the popular idea adopted by Mr. Darwin

+is untenable. What then is the true interpretation? Simply that like

+the whistling and humming of tunes by boys and men, the singing of

+birds results from overflow of energy—an overflow which in both cases

+{431} ceases under depressing conditions. The relation between

+courtship and singing, so far as it can be shown to hold, is not a

+relation of cause and effect, but a relation of concomitance: the two

+are simultaneous results of the same cause. Throughout the animal

+kingdom at large, the commencement of reproduction is associated with

+an excess of those absorbed materials needful for self-maintenance;

+and with a consequent ability to devote a part to the maintenance of

+the species. This constitutional state is one with which there goes a

+tendency to superfluous expenditure in various forms of action—unusual

+vivacity of every kind, including vocal vivacity. While we thus see

+why pairing and singing come to be associated, we also see why there

+is singing at other times when the feeding and weather are favourable;

+and why, in some cases, as in those of the thrush and the robin, there

+is more singing after the breeding season than before or during the

+breeding season. We are shown, too, why these birds, and especially the

+thrush, so often sing in the winter: the supply of worms on lawns and

+in gardens being habitually utilized by both, and thrushes having the

+further advantage that they are strong enough to break the shells of

+the hybernating snails: this last ability being connected with the fact

+that thrushes and blackbirds are the first among the singing birds to

+build. It remains only to add that the alleged singing of males against

+one another with the view of charming the females is open to parallel

+criticisms. How far this competition happens during the pairing season

+I have not observed, but it certainly happens out of the pairing

+season. I have several times heard blackbirds singing alternately in

+June. But the most conspicuous instance is supplied by the redbreasts.

+These habitually sing against one another during the autumn months:

+reply and rejoinder being commonly continued for five minutes at a time.

+

+Even did the evidence support the popular view, adopted {432} by Mr.

+Darwin, that the singing of birds is a kind of courtship—even were

+there good proof, instead of much disproof, that a bird’s song is a

+developed form of the sexual sounds made by the male to charm the

+female; the conclusion would, I think, do little towards justifying

+the belief that human music has had a kindred origin. For, in the

+first place, the bird-type in general, developed as it is out of

+the reptilian type, is very remotely related to that type of the

+_Vertebrata_ which ascends to Man as its highest exemplar; and, in the

+second place, song-birds belong, with but few exceptions, to the single

+order of _Insessores_—one order only, of the many orders constituting

+the class. So that, if the _Vertebrata_ at large be represented by a

+tree, of which Man is the topmost twig, then it is at a considerable

+distance down the trunk that there diverges the branch from which

+the bird-type is derived; and the group of singing-birds forms but a

+terminal sub-division of this branch—lies far out of the ascending

+line which ends in Man. To give appreciable support to Mr. Darwin’s

+view, we ought to find vocal manifestations of the amatory feeling

+becoming more pronounced as we ascend along that particular line of

+inferior _Vertebrata_ out of which Man has arisen. Just as we find

+other traits which pre-figure human traits (instance arms and hands

+adapted for grasping) becoming more marked as we approach Man; so

+should we find, becoming more marked, this sexual use of the voice,

+which is supposed to end in human song. But we do not find this. The

+South-American monkeys (“the Howlers,” as they are sometimes called),

+which, in chorus, make the woods resound for hours together with their

+“dreadful concert,” appear, according to Rengger, to be prompted by

+no other desire than that of making a noise. Mr. Darwin admits, too,

+that this is generally the case with the gibbons: the only exception

+he is inclined to make being in the case of _Hylobates agilis_, which,

+on the testimony of Mr. Waterhouse, he says ascends and descends the

+scale by {433} half-tones.[58] This comparatively musical set of

+sounds, he thinks, may be used to charm the female; though there is no

+evidence forthcoming that this is the case. When we remember that in

+the forms nearest to the human—the chimpanzees and the gorilla—there is

+nothing which approaches even thus far towards musical utterance, we

+see that the hypothesis has next to none of that support which ought to

+be forthcoming. Indeed in his _Descent of Man_, vol. ii., p. 332, Mr.

+Darwin himself says:—“It is a surprising fact that we have not as yet

+any good evidence that these organs are used by male mammals to charm

+the females:” an admission which amounts to something like a surrender.

+

+Even more marked is the absence of proof when we come to the human

+race itself—or rather, not absence of proof but presence of disproof.

+Here, from the _Descriptive Sociology_, where the authorities will be

+found under the respective heads, I quote a number of testimonies of

+travellers concerning primitive music: commencing with those referring

+to the lowest races.

+

+“The songs of the natives [of Australia] . . . are chiefly made on

+the spur of the moment, and refer to something that has struck the

+attention at the time.” “The Watchandies seeing me much interested

+in the genus Eucalyptus soon composed a song on this subject.” The

+Fuegians are fond of music and generally sing in their boats, doubtless

+keeping time, as many primitive peoples do. “The principal subject

+of the songs of the Araucanians is the exploits of their heroes:”

+when at work their “song was simple, referring mostly to their

+labour,” and was the same “for every {434} occasion, whether the

+burden of the song be joy or sorrow.” The Greenlanders sing of “their

+exploits in the chase” and “chant the deeds of their ancestors.” “The

+Indians of the Upper Mississippi vocalize an incident, as—‘They have

+brought us a fat dog,’:” then the chorus goes on for a minute. Of

+other North-American Indians we read—“the air which the women sang

+was pleasing . . . the men first gave out the words, which formed

+a consummate glorification of themselves.” Among the Carriers (of

+North America) there are professed composers, who “turn their talent

+to good account on the occasion of a feast, when new airs are in

+great request.” Of the New Zealanders we read:—“The singing of such

+compositions [laments] resembles cathedral chanting.” “Passing events

+are described by extemporaneous songs, which are preserved when good.”

+“When men worked together appropriate airs were sung.” When presenting

+a meal to travellers, women would chant—“What shall be our food? shell

+fish and fern-root, that is the root of the earth.” Among the Sandwich

+Islanders “most of the traditions of remarkable events in their history

+are preserved in songs.” When taught reading they could not “recite a

+lesson without chanting or singing it.” Cook found the Tahitians had

+itinerant musicians who gave narrative chants quite unpremeditated. “A

+Samoan can hardly put his paddle in the water without striking up some

+chant.” A chief of the Kyans, “Tamawan, jumped up and while standing

+burst out into an extempore song, in which Sir James Brooke and myself,

+and last not least the wonderful steamer, was mentioned with warm

+eulogies.” In East Africa “the fisherman will accompany his paddle,

+the porter his trudge, and the housewife her task of rubbing down

+grain, with song.” In singing, the East African “contents himself with

+improvising a few words without sense or rhyme and repeats them till

+they nauseate,” Among the Dahomans any incident “from the arrival of

+a stranger to an {435} earthquake” is turned into a song. When rowing,

+the Coast-negroes sing “either a description of some love intrigue or

+the praise of some woman celebrated for her beauty.” In Loango “the

+women as they till the field make it echo with their rustic songs.”

+Park says of the Bambarran—“they lightened their labours by songs,

+one of which was composed extempore; for I was myself the subject of

+it.” “In some parts of Africa nothing is done except to the sound of

+music.” “They are very expert in adapting the subjects of these songs

+to current events.” The Malays “amuse all their leisure hours . . .

+with the repetition of songs, which are for the most part proverbs

+illustrated. . . . Some that they rehearse in a kind of recitative

+at their _bimbangs_ or feasts are historical love-tales.” A Sumatran

+maiden will sometimes begin a tender song and be answered by one of the

+young men. The ballads of the Kamtschadales are “inspired apparently by

+grief, love, or domestic feeling;” and their music conveys “a sensation

+of sorrow and vague, unavailing regret.” Of their love-songs it is said

+“the women generally compose them.” A Kirghiz “singer sits on one knee

+and sings in an unnatural tone of voice, his lay being usually of an

+amorous character.” Of the Yakuts we are told “their style of singing

+is monotonous . . . their songs described the beauty of the landscape

+in terms which appeared to me exaggerated.”

+

+In these statements, which, omitting repetitions, are all which the

+_Descriptive Sociology_ contains relevant to the issue, several

+striking facts are manifest. Among the lowest races the only musical

+utterances named are those which refer to the incidents of the

+moment, and seem prompted by feelings which those incidents produce.

+The derivation of song or chant from emotional speech in general,

+thus suggested, is similarly suggested by the habits of many higher

+races; for they, too, show us that the musically-expressed feelings

+relevant to the immediate occasion, or to past occasions, are feelings

+of various kinds: now of simple good {436} spirits and now of joy

+or triumph—now of surprise, praise, admiration, and now of sorrow,

+melancholy, regret. Only among certain of the more advanced races, as

+the semi-civilized Malays and peoples of Northern Asia, do we read of

+love-songs; and then, strange to say, these are mentioned as mostly

+coming, not from men, but from women. Out of all the testimonies there

+is not one which tells of a love-song spontaneously commenced by a man

+to charm a woman. Entirely absent among the rudest types and many of

+the more developed types, amatory musical utterance, where first found,

+is found under a form opposite to that which Mr. Darwin’s hypothesis

+implies; and we have to seek among civilized peoples before we meet, in

+serenades and the like, music of the kind which, according to his view,

+should be the earliest.[59]

+

+Even were his view countenanced by the facts, there would remain

+unexplained the process by which sexually-excited sounds have been

+evolved into music. In the foregoing essay I have indicated the various

+qualities, relations, and combinations of tones, spontaneously prompted

+by emotions of all kinds, which exhibit, in undeveloped forms, the

+traits of recitative and melody. To have reduced his hypothesis to a

+shape admitting of comparison, Mr. Darwin should have shown that the

+sounds excited by sexual emotions possess these same traits; and, to

+have proved that his hypothesis is the more tenable, should have shown

+that they possess these same traits in a greater degree. But he has not

+attempted to do this. He has simply suggested that instead of having

+its roots in the vocal sounds caused by feelings of all kinds, music

+has its roots in the vocal {437} sounds caused by the amatory feeling

+only: giving no reason why the effects of the feelings at large should

+be ignored, and the effects of one particular feeling alone recognized.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Nineteen years after my essay on “The Origin and Function of Music” was

+published, Mr. Edmund Gurney criticized it in an article which made its

+appearance in the _Fortnightly Review_ for July 1876. Absorption in

+more important work prevented me from replying. Though, some ten years

+ago, I thought of defending my views against those of Mr. Darwin and

+Mr. Gurney, the occurrence of Mr. Darwin’s death obliged me to postpone

+for a time any discussion of his views; and then, the more recent

+unfortunate death of Mr. Gurney caused a further postponement. I must

+now, however, say that which seems needful, though there is no longer

+any possibility of a rejoinder from him.

+

+Some parts of Mr. Gurney’s criticism I have already answered by

+implication; for he adopts the hypothesis that music originated in

+the vocal utterances prompted by sexual feeling. To the reasons above

+given for rejecting this hypothesis, I will add here, what I might have

+added above, that it is at variance with one of the fundamental laws of

+evolution. All development proceeds from the general to the special.

+First there appear those traits which a thing has in common with many

+other things; then those traits which it has in common with a smaller

+class of things; and so on until there eventually arise those traits

+which distinguish it from everything else. The genesis which I have

+described conforms to this fundamental law. It posits the antecedent

+fact that feeling in general produces muscular contraction in general;

+and the less general fact that feeling in general produces, among other

+muscular contractions, those which move the respiratory and vocal

+apparatus. With these it joins the still less general fact that sounds

+indicative of feelings vary in sundry {438} respects according to the

+intensity of the feelings; and then enumerates the still less general

+facts which show us the kinship between the vocal manifestations of

+feeling and the characters of vocal music: the implication being that

+there has gone on a progressive specialization. But the view which

+Mr. Gurney adopts from Mr. Darwin is that from the special actions

+producing the special sounds accompanying sexual excitement, were

+evolved those various actions producing the various sounds which

+accompany all other feelings. Vocal expression of a particular emotion

+came first, and from this proceeded vocal expressions of emotions in

+general: the order of evolution was reversed.

+

+To deficient knowledge of the laws of evolution are due sundry of Mr.

+Gurney’s objections. He makes a cardinal error in assuming that a more

+evolved thing is distinguished from less evolved things in respect

+of _all_ the various traits of evolution; whereas, very generally, a

+higher degree of evolution in some or most respects, is accompanied

+by an equal or lower degree of evolution in other respects. On the

+average, increase of locomotive power goes along with advance of

+evolution; and yet numerous mammals are more fleet than man. The stage

+of development is largely indicated by degree of intelligence; and

+yet the more intelligent parrot is inferior in vision, in speed, and

+in destructive appliances, to the less-intelligent hawk. The contrast

+between birds and mammals well illustrates the general truth. A

+bird’s skeleton diverges more widely from the skeleton of the lower

+vertebrates in respect of heterogeneity than does the skeleton of a

+mammal; and the bird has a more developed respiratory system, as well

+as a higher temperature of blood, and a superior power of locomotion.

+Nevertheless, many mammals in respect of bulk, in respect of various

+appliances (especially for prehension), and in respect of intelligence,

+are more evolved than birds. Thus it is obviously a mistake to assume

+that whatever is more {439} highly evolved in general character is

+more highly evolved in every trait.

+

+Of Mr. Gurney’s several objections which are based on this mistake here

+is an example. He says—“Loudness though a frequent is by no means a

+universal or essential element, either of song or of emotional speech”

+(p. 107). Under one of its aspects this criticism is self-destructive;

+for if, though both relatively loud in most cases, song and emotional

+speech are both characterized by the occasional use of subdued tones,

+then this is a further point of kinship between them—a kinship which

+Mr. Gurney seeks to disprove. Under its other aspect this criticism

+implies the above-described misconception. If in a song, or rather

+in some part or parts of a song, the trait of loudness is absent,

+while the other traits of developed emotional utterance are present,

+it simply illustrates the truth that the traits of a highly-evolved

+product are frequently not all present together.

+

+A like answer is at hand to the next objection he makes. It runs thus:―

+

+ “In the recitative which he [Mr. Spencer] himself considers naturally

+ and historically a step between speech and song, the rapid variation

+ of pitch is impossible, and such recitative is distinguished from the

+ tones even of common speech precisely by being more monotonous” (p.

+ 108).

+

+But Mr. Gurney overlooks the fact that while, in recitative, some

+traits of developed emotional utterance are not present, two of its

+traits are present. One is that greater resonance of tone, caused by

+greater contraction of the vocal chords, which distinguishes it from

+ordinary speech. The other is the relative elevation of pitch, or

+divergence from the medium tones of voice: a trait similarly implying

+greater strain of certain vocal muscles, resulting from stronger

+feeling.

+

+Another difficulty raised by Mr. Gurney he would probably not have set

+down had he been aware that one character of musical utterance which

+he thinks {440} distinctive, is a character of all phenomena into

+which motion enters as a factor. He says:—“Now no one can suppose that

+the sense of rhythm can be derived from emotional speech” (p. 110).

+Had he referred to the chapter on “The Rhythm of Motion” in _First

+Principles_, he would have seen that, in common with inorganic actions,

+all organic actions are completely or partially rhythmical—from

+appetite and sleep to inspirations and heart-beats; from the winking

+of the eyes to the contractions of the intestines; from the motions

+of the legs to discharges through the nerves. Having contemplated

+such facts he would have seen that the rhythmical tendency which is

+perfectly displayed in musical utterance, is imperfectly displayed in

+emotional speech. Just as under emotion we see swayings of the body and

+wringings of the hands, so do we see contractions of the vocal organs

+which are now stronger and now weaker. Surely it is manifest that the

+utterances of passion, far from being monotonous, are characterized by

+rapidly-recurring ascents and descents of tone and by rapidly-recurring

+emphases: there is rhythm, though it is an irregular rhythm.

+

+Want of knowledge of the principles of evolution has, in another place,

+led Mr. Gurney to represent as an objection what is in reality a

+verification. He says:―

+

+ “Music is distinguished from emotional speech in that it proceeds not

+ only by fixed degrees in time, but by fixed degrees in the scale. This

+ is a constant quality through all the immense quantity of embryo and

+ developed scale-systems that have been used; whereas the transitions

+ of pitch which mark emotional affections of voice are, as Helmholtz

+ has pointed out, of a gliding character” (p. 113).

+

+Had Mr. Gurney known that evolution in all cases is from the indefinite

+to the definite, he would have seen that as a matter of course the

+gradations of emotional speech must be indefinite in comparison with

+the gradations of developed music. Progress from the one to the

+other is in part _constituted_ by increasing definiteness in the

+time-intervals and increasing definiteness in the tone-intervals.

+Were it {441} otherwise, the hypothesis I have set forth would lack

+one of its evidences. To his allegation that not only the “developed

+scale-systems” but also the “embryo” scale-systems are definite, it

+may obviously be replied that the mere existence of any scale-system

+capable of being written down, implies that the earlier stage of

+the progress has already been passed through. To have risen to a

+scale-system is to have become definite; and until a scale-system has

+been reached vocal phrases cannot have been recorded. Moreover had Mr.

+Gurney remembered that there are many people with musical perceptions

+so imperfect that when making their merely recognizable, and sometimes

+hardly recognizable, attempts to whistle or hum melodies, they show

+how vague are their appreciations of musical intervals, he would have

+seen reason for doubting his assumption that definite scales were

+reached all at once. The fact that in what we call bad ears there

+are all degrees of imperfection, joined with the fact that where the

+imperfection is not great practice may remedy it, suffice of themselves

+to show that definite perceptions of musical intervals were reached by

+degrees.

+

+Some of Mr. Gurney’s objections are strangely insubstantial. Here is an

+example:―

+

+ “The fact is that song, which moreover in our time is but a limited

+ branch of music, is perpetually making conscious efforts; for

+ instance, the most peaceful melody may be a considerable strain to a

+ soprano voice, if sung in a very high register: while speech continues

+ to obey in a natural way the physiological laws of emotion” (p. 117).

+

+That in exaggerating and emphasizing the traits of emotional speech,

+the singer should be led to make “conscious efforts” is surely natural

+enough. What would Mr. Gurney have said of dancing? He would scarcely

+have denied that saltatory movements often result spontaneously from

+excited feeling; and he could hardly have doubted that primitive

+dancing arose as a systematized form of such movements. Would he

+have considered the belief that stage-dancing is evolved from these

+spontaneous movements {442} to be negatived by the fact that a

+stage-dancer’s bounds and gyrations are made with “conscious efforts”?

+

+In his elaborate work on _The Power of Sound_, Mr. Gurney, repeating in

+other forms the objections I have above dealt with, adds to them some

+others. One of these, which appears at first sight to have much weight,

+I must not pass by. He thus expresses it.

+

+ “Any one may convince himself that not only are the intervals used

+ in emotional speech very large, twelve diatonic notes being quite an

+ ordinary skip, but that he uses extremes of both high and low pitch

+ with his speaking voice, which, if he tries to dwell on them and make

+ them resonant, will be found to lie beyond the compass of his singing

+ voice” (p. 479).

+

+Now the part of my hypothesis which Mr. Gurney here combats is that,

+as in emotional speech so in song, feeling, by causing muscular

+contractions, causes divergencies from the middle tones of the voice,

+which become wider as it increases; and that this fact supports the

+belief that song is developed from emotional speech. To this Mr.

+Gurney thinks it a conclusive answer that higher notes are used by the

+speaking voice than by the singing voice. But if, as his words imply,

+there is a physical impediment to the production of notes in the one

+voice as high as those in the other, then my argument is justified if,

+in either voice, extremes of feeling are shown by extremes of pitch.

+If, for example, the celebrated _ut de poitrine_ with which Tamberlik

+brought down the house in one of the scenes of William Tell, was

+recognized as expressing the greatest intensity of martial patriotism,

+my position is warranted, even though in his speaking voice he could

+have produced a still higher note.

+

+Of answers to Mr. Gurney’s objections the two most effective are

+suggested by the passage in which he sums up his conclusions. Here are

+his words.

+

+  “It is enough to recall how every consideration tended to the same

+ result; that the oak grew from the acorn; that the musical faculty

+ and pleasure, which have to do with music and nothing else, are the

+ representatives and {443} linear descendants of a faculty and pleasure

+ which were musical and nothing else; and that, however rudely and

+ tentatively applied to speech, Music was a _separate order_” (p. 492).

+

+Thus, then, it is implied that the true germs of music stand towards

+developed music as the acorn to the oak. Now suppose we ask—How many

+traits of the oak are to be found in the acorn? Next to none. And then

+suppose we ask—How many traits of music are to be found in the tones of

+emotional speech? Very many. Yet while Mr. Gurney thinks that music had

+its origin in something which might have been as unlike it as the acorn

+is unlike the oak, he rejects the theory that it had its origin in

+something as much like it as the cadences of emotional speech; and he

+does this because there are sundry differences between the characters

+of speech-cadences and the characters of music. In the one case he

+tacitly assumes a great unlikeness between germ and product; while

+in the other case he objects because germ and product are not in all

+respects similar!

+

+I may end by pointing out how extremely improbable, _a priori_, is Mr.

+Gurney’s conception. He admits, as perforce he must, that emotional

+speech has various traits in common with recitative and song—relatively

+greater resonance, relatively greater loudness, more marked divergences

+from medium tones, the use of the extremes of pitch in signifying the

+extremes of feeling, and so on. But, denying that the one is derived

+from the others, he implies that these kindred groups of traits have

+had independent origins. Two sets of peculiarities in the use of the

+voice which show various kinships, have nothing to do with one another!

+I think it merely requires to put the proposition in this shape to see

+how incredible it is.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Sundry objections to the views contained in the essay on “The Origin

+and Function of Music,” have arisen from misconception of its scope.

+An endeavour to explain the _origin_ of music, has been dealt with

+as though it were a theory of music in its entirety. An hypothesis

+{444} concerning the rudiments has been rejected because it did not

+account for everything contained in the developed product. To preclude

+this misapprehension for the future, and to show how much more is

+comprehended in a theory of music than I professed to deal with, let me

+enumerate the several components of musical effect. They may properly

+be divided into _sensational_, _perceptional_, and _emotional_.

+

+That the sensational pleasure is distinguishable from the other

+pleasures which music yields, will not be questioned. A sweet sound

+is agreeable in itself, when heard out of relation to other sounds.

+Tones of various _timbres_, too, are severally appreciated as having

+their special beauties. Of further elements in the sensational pleasure

+have to be named those which result from certain congruities between

+notes and immediately succeeding notes. This pleasure, like the primary

+pleasure which fine quality yields, appears to have a purely physical

+basis. We know that the agreeableness of simultaneous tones depends

+partly on the relative frequency of recurring correspondences of the

+vibrations producing them, and partly on the relative infrequency

+of beats, and we may suspect that there is a kindred cause for the

+agreeableness of successive tones; since the auditory apparatus which

+has been at one instant vibrating in a particular manner, will take

+up certain succeeding vibrations more readily than others. Evidently

+it is a question of the _degree_ of congruity; for the most congruous

+vibrations, those of the octaves, yield less pleasure when heard in

+succession than those of which the congruity is not so great. To

+obtain the greatest pleasure in this and other things, there requires

+both likeness and difference. Recognition of this fact introduces us

+to the next element of sensational pleasure—that due to contrast;

+including contrast of pitch, of loudness, and of _timbre_. In this

+case, as in other cases, the disagreeableness caused by frequent

+repetition of the same sensation (here literally called “monotony”)

+results from the exhaustion which any single {445} nervous agent

+undergoes from perpetual stimulation; and contrast gives pleasure

+because it implies action of an agent which has had rest. It follows

+that much of the sensational pleasure to be obtained from music depends

+on such adjustments of sounds as bring into play, without conflict,

+many nervous elements: exercising all and not overexerting any. We

+must not overlook a concomitant effect. With the agreeable sensation

+is joined a faint emotion of an agreeable kind. Beyond the simple

+definite pleasure yielded by a sweet tone, there is a vague, diffused

+pleasure. As indicated in the _Principles of Psychology_ (§ 537),

+each nervous excitation produces reverberation throughout the nervous

+system at large; and probably this indefinite emotional pleasure is

+a consequence. Doubtless some shape is given to it by association.

+But after observing how much there is in common between the diffused

+feeling aroused by smelling at a deliciously scented flower and that

+aroused by listening to a sweet tone, it will, I think, be perceived

+that the more general cause predominates.

+

+The division between the sensational effects and the perceptional

+effects is of course indefinite. As above implied, part of the

+sensational pleasure depends on the relation between each tone and the

+succeeding tone; and hence this pleasure gradually merges into that

+which arises from perceiving the structural connexions between the

+phrases and between the larger parts of musical compositions. Much

+of the gratification given by a melody consists in the consciousness

+of the relations between each group of sounds heard and the groups

+of sounds held in memory as having just passed, as well as those

+represented as about to come. In many cases the passage listened

+to would not be regarded as having any beauty were it not for its

+remembered connexions with passages in the immediate past and the

+immediate future. If, for example, from the first movement of

+Beethoven’s Funeral-March sonata the first five notes are detached,

+they appear to be meaningless; {446} but if, the movement being known,

+they are joined with imaginations of the anticipated phrases, they

+immediately acquire meaning and beauty. Indefinable as are the causes

+of this perceptional pleasure in many cases, some causes of it are

+definable. Symmetry is one. A chief element in melodic effect results

+from repetitions of phrases which are either identical, or differ

+only in pitch, or differ only in minor variations: there being in the

+first case the pleasure derived from perception of complete likeness,

+and in the other cases the greater pleasure derived from perception

+of likeness with difference—a perception which is more involved, and

+therefore exercises a greater number of nervous agents. Next comes, as

+a source of gratification, the consciousness of pronounced unlikeness

+or contrast; such as that between passages above the middle tones and

+passages below, or as that between ascending phrases and descending

+phrases. And then we rise to larger contrasts; as when, the first theme

+in a melody having been elaborated, there is introduced another having

+a certain kinship though in many respects different, after which there

+is a return to the first theme: a structure which yields more extensive

+and more complex perceptions of both differences and likenesses. But

+while perceptional pleasures include much that is of the highest, they

+also include much that is of the lowest. A certain kind of interest, if

+not of beauty, is producible by the likenesses and contrasts of musical

+phrases which are intrinsically meaningless or even ugly. A familiar

+experience exemplifies this. If a piece of paper is folded and on one

+side of the crease there is drawn an irregular line in ink, which,

+by closing the paper, is blotted on the opposite side of the crease,

+there results a figure which, in virtue of its symmetry, has some

+beauty; no matter how entirely without beauty the two lines themselves

+may be. Similarly, some interest results from the parallelism of

+musical phrases, notwithstanding utter lack of interest in the

+phrases themselves. The kind of interest {447} resulting from such

+parallelisms, and from many contrasts, irrespective of any intrinsic

+worth in their components, is that which is most appreciated by the

+musically-uncultured, and gives popularity to miserable drawing-room

+ballads and vulgar music-hall songs.

+

+The remaining element of musical effect consists in the idealized

+rendering of emotion. This, as I have sought to show, is the primitive

+element, and will ever continue to be the vital element; for if “melody

+is the soul of music,” then expression is the soul of melody—the

+soul without which it is mechanical and meaningless, whatever may

+be the merit of its form. This primitive element may with tolerable

+clearness be distinguished from the other elements, and may coexist

+with them in various degrees: in some cases being the predominant

+element. Anyone who, in analytical mood, listens to such a song as

+_Robert, toi que j’aime_, cannot, I think, fail to perceive that its

+effectiveness depends on the way in which it exalts and intensifies

+the traits of passionate utterance. No doubt as music develops, the

+emotional element (which affects structure chiefly through the forms

+of phrases) is increasingly complicated with, and obscured by, the

+perceptional element; which both modifies these phrases and unites them

+into symmetrical and contrasted combinations. But though the groups

+of notes which emotion prompts admit of elaboration into structures

+that have additional charms due to artfully-arranged contrasts and

+repetitions, the essential element is liable to be thus submerged in

+the non-essential. Only in melodies of high types, such as the _Addio_

+of Mozart and _Adelaide_ of Beethoven, do we see the two requirements

+simultaneously fulfilled. Musical genius is shown in achieving the

+decorative beauty without losing the beauty of emotional meaning.

+

+It goes without saying that there must be otherwise accounted for

+that relatively modern element in musical effect which has now almost

+outgrown in importance the {448} other elements—I mean harmony. This

+cannot be affiliated on the natural language of emotion; since, in

+such language, limited to successive tones, there cannot originate

+the effects wrought by simultaneous tones. Dependent as harmony is on

+relations among rates of aerial pulses, its primary basis is purely

+mechanical; and its secondary basis lies in the compound vibrations

+which certain combinations of mechanical rhythms cause in the

+auditory apparatus. The resulting pleasure must, therefore, be due

+to nervous excitations of kinds which, by their congruity, exalt one

+another; and thus generate a larger volume of agreeable sensation. A

+further pleasure of sensational origin which harmony yields is due to

+contrapuntal effects. Skilful counterpoint has the general character

+that it does not repeat in immediate succession similar combinations of

+tones and similar directions of change; and by thus avoiding temporary

+over-tax of the nervous structures brought into action, keeps them in

+better condition for subsequent action. Absence of regard for this

+requirement characterizes the music of Gluck, of whom Handel said—“He

+knows no more counterpoint than my cook;” and it is this disregard

+which produces its cloying character. Respecting the effects of harmony

+I will add only that the vague emotional accompaniment to the sensation

+produced by a single sweet tone, is paralleled by the stronger

+emotional accompaniment to the more voluminous and complex sensation

+produced by a fine chord. Clearly this vague emotion forms a large

+component in the pleasure which harmony gives.

+

+While thus recognizing, and indeed emphasizing, the fact that of many

+traits of developed music my hypothesis respecting the origin of music

+yields no explanation, let me point out that this hypothesis gains a

+further general support from its conformity to the law of evolution.

+Progressive integration is seen in the immense contrast between the

+small combinations of tones constituting a cadence of grief, or anger,

+or triumph, and the vast combinations of {449} tones, simultaneous

+and successive, constituting an oratorio. Great advance in coherence

+becomes manifest when, from the lax unions among the sounds in which

+feeling spontaneously expresses itself, or even from those few musical

+phrases which constitute a simple air, we pass to those elaborate

+compositions in which portions small and large are tied together into

+extended organic wholes. On comparing the unpremeditated inflexions

+of the voice in emotional speech, vague in tones and times, with

+those premeditated ones which the musician arranges for stage or

+concert room, in which the divisions of time are exactly measured, the

+successive intervals precise, and the harmonies adjusted to a nicety,

+we observe in the last a far higher definiteness. And immense progress

+in heterogeneity is seen on putting side by side the monotonous chants

+of savages with the musical compositions familiar to us; each of which

+is relatively heterogeneous within itself, and the assemblage of which

+forms an immeasurably heterogeneous aggregate.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Strong support for the theory enunciated in this essay, and defended

+in the foregoing paragraphs, is furnished by the testimonies of two

+travellers in Hungary, given in works published in 1878 and 1888

+respectively. Here is an extract from the first of the two.

+

+ “Music is an instinct with these Hungarian gipsies. They play by

+ ear, and with a marvellous precision, not surpassed by musicians

+ who have been subject to the most careful training. . . . The airs

+ they play are most frequently compositions of their own, and are in

+ character quite peculiar. . . I heard on this occasion one of the

+ gipsy airs which made an indelible impression on my mind; it seemed

+ to me the thrilling utterance of a people’s history. There was the

+ low wail of sorrow, of troubled passionate grief, stirring the heart

+ to restlessness, then the sense of turmoil and defeat; but upon this

+ breaks suddenly a wild burst of exultation, of rapturous joy—a triumph

+ achieved, which hurries you along with it in resistless sympathy.

+ The excitable Hungarians can literally become intoxicated with this

+ music—and no wonder. You cannot reason upon it, or explain it, but its

+ strains compel you to sensations of despair and joy, of exultation

+ and excitement, as though under the influence of some potent

+ charm.”—_Round about the Carpathians_, by Andrew F. Crosse, pp. 11,

+ 12. {450}

+

+

+Still more graphic and startling is the description given by a more

+recent traveller, E. Gerard.

+

+  “Devoid of printed notes, the Tzigane is not forced to divide his

+ attention between a sheet of paper and his instrument, and there is

+ consequently nothing to detract from the utter abandonment with which

+ he absorbs himself in his playing. He seems to be sunk in an inner

+ world of his own; the instrument sobs and moans in his hands, and is

+ pressed tight against his heart as though it had grown and taken root

+ there. This is the true moment of inspiration, to which he rarely

+ gives way, and then only in the privacy of an intimate circle, never

+ before a numerous and unsympathetic audience. Himself spell-bound by

+ the power of the tones he evokes, his head gradually sinking lower

+ and lower over the instrument, the body bent forward in an attitude

+ of rapt attention, and his ear seeming to hearken to far-off ghostly

+ strains audible to himself alone, the untaught Tzigane achieves a

+ perfection of expression unattainable by mere professional training.

+

+ This power of identification with his music is the real secret of

+ the Tzigane’s influence over his audience. Inspired and carried away

+ by his own strains, he must perforce carry his hearers with him as

+ well; and the Hungarian listener throws himself heart and soul into

+ this species of musical intoxication, which to him is the greatest

+ delight on earth. There is a proverb which says, ‘The Hungarian only

+ requires a gipsy fiddler and a glass of water in order to make him

+ quite drunk;’ and, indeed, intoxication is the only word fittingly to

+ describe the state of exaltation into which I have seen a Hungarian

+ audience thrown by a gipsy band.

+

+ Sometimes, under the combined influence of music and wine, the

+ Tziganes become like creatures possessed; the wild cries and stamps of

+ an equally excited audience only stimulate them to greater exertions.

+ The whole atmosphere seems tossed by billows of passionate harmony;

+ we seem to catch sight of the electric sparks of inspiration flying

+ through the air. It is then that the Tzigane player gives forth

+ everything that is secretly lurking within him—fierce anger, childish

+ wailings, presumptuous exaltation, brooding melancholy, and passionate

+ despair; and at such moments, as a Hungarian writer has said, one

+ could readily believe in his power of drawing down the angels from

+ heaven into hell!

+

+ Listen how another Hungarian has here described the effect of their

+ music:—‘How it rushes through the veins like electric fire! How it

+ penetrates straight to the soul! In soft plaintive minor tones the

+ _adagio_ opens with a slow rhythmical movement: it is a sighing

+ and longing of unsatisfied aspirations; a craving for undiscovered

+ happiness; the lover’s yearning for the object of his affection; the

+ expression of mourning for lost joys, for happy days gone for ever;

+ then abruptly changing to a major key, the tones get faster and more

+ agitated; and from the whirlpool of harmony the melody gradually

+ detaches itself, alternately drowned in the foam of overbreaking

+ waves, to reappear floating on the surface with undulating

+ motion—collecting as it were fresh power for a renewed burst of fury.

+ But {451} quickly as the storm came it is gone again, and the music

+ relapses into the melancholy yearnings of heretofore.’” _The Land

+ beyond the Forest_, vol. II, pp. 122–4. Lond. 1888.

+

+After the evidence thus furnished, argument is almost superfluous. The

+origin of music as the developed language of emotion seems to be no

+longer an inference but simply a description of the fact.

+

+

+ENDNOTES TO _THE ORIGIN AND FUNCTION OF MUSIC_.

+

+[56] Those who seek information on this point may find it in an

+interesting tract by Mr. Alexander Bain, on _Animal Instinct and

+Intelligence_.

+

+[57] _The Music of the Most Ancient Nations, &c._, by Carl Engel. This

+quotation is not contained in my essay as originally published, nor

+in the version of it first reproduced in 1858. Herr Engel’s work was

+issued in 1864, seven years after the date of the essay.

+

+[58] It is far more probable that the ascents and descents made by

+this gibbon consisted of indefinitely-slurred tones. To suppose that

+each was a series of definite semi-tones strains belief to breaking

+point; considering that among human beings the great majority, even of

+those who have good ears, are unable to go up or down the chromatic

+scale without being taught to do so. The achievement is one requiring

+considerable practice; and that such an achievement should be

+spontaneous on the part of a monkey is incredible.

+

+[59] After the above paragraphs had been sent to the printers I

+received from an American anthropologist, the Rev. Owen Dorsey, some

+essays containing kindred evidence. Of over three dozen songs and

+chants of the Omaha, Ponka, and other Indians, in some cases given

+with music and in other cases without, there are but five which have

+any reference to amatory feeling; and while in these the expression of

+amatory feeling comes from women, nothing more than derision of them

+comes from men.

+

+

+

+

+{452}

+

+THE PHYSIOLOGY OF LAUGHTER.

+

+

+[_First published in_ Macmillan’s Magazine _for March 1860._]

+

+Why do we smile when a child puts on a man’s hat? or what induces us

+to laugh on reading that the corpulent Gibbon was unable to rise from

+his knees after making a tender declaration? The usual reply to such

+questions is, that laughter results from a perception of incongruity.

+Even were there not, on this reply, the obvious criticism that laughter

+often occurs from extreme pleasure or from mere vivacity, there would

+still remain the real problem—How comes a sense of the incongruous

+to be followed by these peculiar bodily actions? Some have alleged

+that laughter is due to the pleasure of a relative self-elevation,

+which we feel on seeing the humiliation of others. But this theory,

+whatever portion of truth it may contain, is, in the first place, open

+to the fatal objection that there are various humiliations to others

+which produce in us anything but laughter; and, in the second place,

+it does not apply to the many instances in which no one’s dignity is

+implicated: as when we laugh at a good pun. Moreover, like the other,

+it is merely a generalization of certain conditions to laughter;

+and not an explanation of the odd movements which occur under these

+conditions. Why, when greatly delighted, or impressed with certain

+unexpected contrasts {453} of ideas, should there be a contraction

+of particular facial muscles and particular muscles of the chest and

+abdomen? Such answer to this question as may be possible, can be

+rendered only by physiology.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Every child has made the attempt to hold the foot still while it

+is tickled, and has failed; and there is scarcely any one who has

+not vainly tried to avoid winking when a hand has been suddenly

+passed before the eyes. These examples of muscular movements which

+occur independently of the will, or in spite of it, illustrate

+what physiologists call reflex-action; as likewise do sneezing and

+coughing. To this class of cases, in which involuntary motions are

+accompanied by sensations, has to be added another class of cases, in

+which involuntary motions are unaccompanied by sensations:—instance

+the pulsations of the heart; the contractions of the stomach during

+digestion. Further, the majority of seemingly-voluntary acts in such

+creatures as insects, worms, molluscs, are considered by physiologists

+to be as purely automatic as is the dilatation or closure of the iris

+under variations in the quantity of light; and similarly exemplify the

+law, that an impression on the end of an afferent nerve is conveyed

+to some ganglionic centre, and is thence usually reflected along an

+efferent nerve to one or more muscles which it causes to contract.

+

+In a modified form this principle holds with voluntary acts. Nervous

+excitation always _tends_ to beget muscular motion; and when it rises

+to a certain intensity always does beget it. Not only in reflex

+actions, whether with or without sensation, do we see that special

+nerves, when raised to states of tension, discharge themselves on

+special muscles with which they are indirectly connected; but those

+external actions through which we read the feelings of others, show us

+that, under any considerable tension, the nervous system in general

+discharges itself on the muscular system in general: either with or

+without the {454} guidance of the will. The shivering produced by

+cold implies irregular muscular contractions, which, though at first

+only partly involuntary, become, when the cold is extreme, almost

+wholly involuntary. When you have severely burnt your finger it is very

+difficult to preserve a dignified composure: contortion of face, or

+movement of limb, is pretty sure to follow. If a man receives good news

+with neither facial change nor bodily motion, it is inferred that he

+is not much pleased, or that he has extraordinary self-control: either

+inference implying that joy almost universally produces contraction

+of the muscles, and so, alters the expression, or attitude, or both.

+And when we hear of the feats of strength which men have performed

+when their lives were at stake—when we read how, in the energy of

+despair, even paralyzed patients have regained for a time the use of

+their limbs; we see still more clearly the relation between nervous

+and muscular excitements. It becomes manifest both that emotions and

+sensations tend to generate bodily movements, and that the movements

+are violent in proportion as the emotions or sensations are intense.[60]

+

+This, however, is not the sole direction in which nervous excitement

+expends itself. Viscera as well as muscles may receive the discharge.

+That the heart and blood-vessels (which, indeed, being all contractile,

+may in a restricted sense be classed with the muscular system) are

+quickly affected by pleasures and pains, we have daily proved to

+us. Every sensation of any acuteness accelerates the pulse; and how

+sensitive the heart is to emotions, is testified by the familiar

+expressions which use heart and feeling as convertible terms. Similarly

+with the digestive organs. Without detailing the various ways in which

+these may be influenced by our mental states, it suffices to mention

+the marked benefits derived by dyspeptics, as well as other invalids,

+from cheerful society, welcome news, {455} change of scene, to show

+how pleasurable feeling stimulates the viscera in general into greater

+activity.

+

+There is still another direction in which any excited portion of the

+nervous system may discharge itself; and a direction in which it

+usually does discharge itself when the excitement is not strong. It

+may pass on the stimulus to some other portion of the nervous system.

+This is what occurs in quiet thinking and feeling. The successive

+states which constitute consciousness, result from this. Sensations

+excite ideas and emotions; these in their turns arouse other ideas

+and emotions; and so on continuously. That is to say, the tension

+existing in particular nerve-centres, or groups of nerve-centres, when

+they yield us certain sensations, ideas, or emotions, generates an

+equivalent tension in some other nervous structures, with which there

+is a connexion: the flow of energy passing on, the one idea or feeling

+dies in producing the next.

+

+Thus, then, while we are totally unable to comprehend how the

+excitement of certain nerve-centres should generate feeling—while, in

+the production of consciousness by physical agents acting on physical

+structures, we come to a mystery never to be solved; it is yet quite

+possible for us to know by observation what are the successive forms

+which this mystery may take. We see that there are three channels along

+which nerve-centres in a state of tension may discharge themselves; or

+rather, I should say, three classes of channels. They may pass on the

+excitement to other nerve-centres that have no direct connexions with

+the bodily members, and may so cause other feelings and ideas; or they

+may pass on the excitement to one or more motor nerves, and so cause

+muscular contractions; or they may pass on the excitement to nerves

+which supply the viscera, and may so stimulate one or more of these.

+

+For simplicity’s sake I have described these as alternative routes,

+one or other of which any current of nerve-force must take; thereby,

+as it may be thought, implying that {456} such current will be

+exclusively confined to some one of them. But this is by no means the

+case. Rarely, if ever, does it happen that a state of nervous tension,

+present to consciousness as a feeling, expends itself in one direction

+only. Very generally it may be observed to expend itself in two; and

+it is probable that the discharge is never absolutely absent from any

+one of the three. There is, however, variety in the _proportions_ in

+which the discharge is divided among these different channels under

+different circumstances. In a man whose fear impels him to run, the

+mental tension generated is only in part transformed into a muscular

+stimulus: there is a surplus which causes a rapid current of ideas. An

+agreeable state of feeling produced, say by praise, is not wholly used

+up in arousing the succeeding phase of the feeling and the new ideas

+appropriate to it; but a certain portion overflows into the visceral

+nervous system, increasing the action of the heart and facilitating

+digestion. And here we come upon a class of considerations and facts

+which open the way to a solution of our special problem.

+

+For, starting with the truth that at any moment the existing quantity

+of liberated nerve-force which in an inscrutable way produces in us

+the state we call feeling, _must_ expend itself in some direction, it

+follows that, if of the several channels it may take, one is wholly or

+partially closed, more must be taken by the others; or that if two are

+closed, the discharge along the remaining one must be more intense; and

+that, conversely, should anything determine an unusual efflux in one

+direction, there will be a diminished efflux in other directions.

+

+Daily experience illustrates these conclusions. It is commonly remarked

+that the suppression of external signs of feeling, makes feeling more

+intense. The deepest grief is silent grief. Why? Because the nervous

+excitement not discharged in muscular action, discharges itself

+in other nervous excitements—arouses more numerous and more {457}

+remote associations of melancholy ideas, and so increases the mass

+of feelings. People who conceal their anger are habitually found to

+be more revengeful than those who explode in loud speech and vehement

+action. Why? Because, as before, the emotion is reflected back,

+accumulates, and intensifies. Similarly, men who, as proved by their

+powers of representation, have the keenest appreciation of the comic,

+are usually able to do and say the most ludicrous things with perfect

+gravity.

+

+On the other hand, all are familiar with the truth that bodily activity

+deadens emotion. Under great irritation we get relief by walking about

+rapidly. Extreme effort in the bootless attempt to achieve a desired

+end, greatly diminishes the intensity of the desire. Those who are

+forced to exert themselves after misfortunes, do not suffer nearly

+so much as those who remain quiescent. If any one wishes to check

+intellectual excitement, he cannot choose a more efficient method

+than running till he is exhausted. Moreover, these cases, in which

+the production of feeling and thought is hindered by determining the

+nervous energy towards bodily movements, have their counterparts in

+the cases in which bodily movements are hindered by extra absorption

+of nervous energy in sudden thoughts and feelings. If, when walking,

+there flashes on you an idea that creates great surprise, hope, or

+alarm, you stop; or if sitting cross-legged, swinging your pendent

+foot, the movement is at once arrested. From the viscera, too, intense

+mental action abstracts energy. Joy, disappointment, anxiety, or any

+moral perturbation rising to a great height, destroys appetite; or, if

+food has been taken, arrests digestion; and even a purely intellectual

+activity, when extreme, does the like.

+

+Facts, then, bear out these _a priori_ inferences, that the nervous

+excitement at any moment present to consciousness as feeling, must

+expend itself in some way or other; that of the three classes of

+channels open to it, it must {458} take one, two, or more, according

+to circumstances; that the closure or obstruction of one, must increase

+the discharge through the others; and, conversely, that if, to answer

+some demand, the efflux of nervous energy in one direction is unusually

+great, there must be a corresponding decrease of the efflux in other

+directions. Setting out from these premises, let us now see what

+interpretation is to be put on the phenomena of laughter.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+That laughter is a form of muscular excitement, and so illustrates

+the general law that feeling passing a certain pitch habitually vents

+itself in bodily action, scarcely needs pointing out. It perhaps needs

+pointing out, however, that strong feeling of almost any kind produces

+this result. It is not a sense of the ludicrous, only, which does it;

+nor are the various forms of joyous emotion the sole additional causes.

+We have, besides, the sardonic laughter and the hysterical laughter

+which result from mental distress; to which must be added certain

+sensations, as tickling, and, according to Mr. Bain, cold, and some

+kinds of acute pain.

+

+Strong feeling, mental or physical, being, then, the general cause of

+laughter, we have to note that the muscular actions constituting it

+are distinguished from most others by this, that they are purposeless.

+In general, bodily motions that are prompted by feelings are directed

+to special ends; as when we try to escape a danger, or struggle to

+secure a gratification. But the movements of chest and limbs which

+we make when laughing have no object. And now remark that these

+quasi-convulsive contractions of the muscles, having no object, but

+being results of an uncontrolled discharge of energy, we may see whence

+arise their special characters—how it happens that certain classes of

+muscles are affected first, and then certain other classes. For an

+overflow of nerve-force undirected by any motive, will manifestly take

+first the {459} most habitual routes; and if these do not suffice,

+will next overflow into the less habitual ones. Well, it is through the

+organs of speech that feeling passes into movement with the greatest

+frequency. The jaws, tongue, and lips are used not only to express

+strong irritation or gratification, but that very moderate flow of

+mental energy which accompanies ordinary conversation, finds its chief

+vent through this channel. Hence it happens that certain muscles round

+the mouth, small and easy to move, are the first to contract under

+pleasurable emotion. The class of muscles which, next after those of

+articulation, are most constantly set in action (or extra action, let

+us say) by feelings of all kinds, are those of respiration. Under

+pleasurable or painful sensations we breathe more rapidly: possibly

+as a consequence of the increased demand for oxygenated blood. The

+sensations that accompany exertion also bring on hard breathing; which

+here more evidently responds to the physiological needs. And emotions,

+too, agreeable and disagreeable, both, at first, excite respiration;

+though the last subsequently depress it. That is to say, of the bodily

+muscles, the respiratory are more constantly implicated than any others

+in those various acts which our feelings impel us to; and, hence,

+when there occurs an undirected discharge of nervous energy into the

+muscular system, it happens that, if the quantity be considerable, it

+convulses not only certain of the articulatory and vocal muscles, but

+also those which expel air from the lungs. Should the feeling to be

+expended be still greater in amount—too great to find vent in these

+classes of muscles—another class comes into play. The upper limbs are

+set in motion. Children frequently clap their hands in glee; by some

+adults the hands are rubbed together; and others, under still greater

+intensity of delight, slap their knees and sway their bodies backwards

+and forwards. Last of all, when the other channels for the escape of

+the surplus nerve-force have been filled to {460} overflowing, a yet

+further and less-used group of muscles is spasmodically affected: the

+head is thrown back and the spine bent inwards—there is a slight degree

+of what medical men call opisthotonos. Thus, then, without contending

+that the phenomena of laughter in all their details are to be so

+accounted for, we see that in their _ensemble_ they conform to these

+general principles:—that feeling excites to muscular action; that when

+the muscular action is unguided by a purpose the muscles first affected

+are those which feeling most habitually stimulates; and that as the

+feeling to be expended increases in quantity it excites an increasing

+number of muscles, in a succession determined by the relative frequency

+with which they respond to the regulated dictates of feeling. To which

+as a qualifying and complicating factor must be added the relative

+sizes of the muscles; since, other things equal, the smaller muscles

+will be moved more readily than the larger.

+

+There still, however, remains the question with which we set out.

+The explanation here given applies only to the laughter produced

+by acute pleasure or pain: it does not apply to the laughter which

+follows certain perceptions of incongruity. It is an insufficient

+explanation that in these cases, laughter is a result of the pleasure

+we take in escaping from the restraint of grave feelings. That this

+is a part-cause is true. Doubtless very often, as Mr. Bain says, “it

+is the coerced form of seriousness and solemnity without the reality

+that gives us that stiff position from which a contact with triviality

+or vulgarity relieves us, to our uproarious delight,” And in so far

+as mirth is caused by the gush of agreeable feeling which follows

+the cessation of unpleasant mental strain, it further illustrates

+the general principle above set forth. But no explanation is thus

+afforded of the mirth which ensues when the short silence between the

+_andante_ and _allegro_ in one of Beethoven’s symphonies, is broken by

+a loud sneeze. In this, and hosts of like cases, the mental tension

+is not coerced but {461} spontaneous—not disagreeable but agreeable;

+and the coming impressions to which attention is directed, promise a

+gratification which few, if any, desire to escape. Hence, when the

+unlucky sneeze occurs, it cannot be that the laughter of the audience

+is due simply to the release from an irksome attitude of mind: some

+other cause must be sought.

+

+This cause we shall arrive at by carrying our analysis a step further.

+We have but to consider the quantity of feeling which exists under such

+circumstances, and then to ask what are the conditions determining the

+direction of its discharge, to reach a solution. Take a case. You are

+sitting in a theatre, absorbed in the progress of an interesting drama.

+Some climax has been reached which has aroused your sympathies—say, a

+reconciliation between the hero and heroine, after long and painful

+misunderstanding. The feelings excited by this scene are not of a kind

+from which you seek relief; but are, on the contrary, a grateful relief

+from the painful feelings with which you have witnessed the previous

+estrangement. Moreover, the sentiments these fictitious personages

+have for the moment inspired you with, are not such as would lead you

+to rejoice in any indignity offered to them; but rather, such as would

+make you resent the indignity. And now, while you are contemplating the

+reconciliation with a pleasurable sympathy, there appears from behind

+the scenes a tame kid, which, having stared round at the audience,

+walks up to the lovers and sniffs at them. You cannot help joining

+in the roar which greets this _contretemps_. Inexplicable as is this

+irresistible burst on the hypothesis of a pleasure in escaping from

+mental restraint; or on the hypothesis of a pleasure from relative

+increase of self-importance, when witnessing the humiliation of

+others; it is readily explicable if we consider what, in such a case,

+must become of the feeling that existed at the moment the incongruity

+arose. A large mass of emotion had been produced; or, to speak in

+physiological language, a large portion of the nervous {462} system

+was in a state of tension. There was also great expectation with

+respect to the further evolution of the scene—a quantity of vague,

+nascent thought and emotion, into which the existing quantity of

+thought and emotion was about to pass. Had there been no interruption,

+the body of new ideas and feelings next excited, would have sufficed to

+absorb the whole of the liberated nervous energy. But now, this large

+amount of nervous energy, instead of being allowed to expend itself

+in producing an equivalent amount of the new thoughts and emotions

+which were nascent, is suddenly checked in its flow. The channels

+along which the discharge was about to take place, are closed. The new

+channel opened—that afforded by the appearance and proceedings of the

+kid—is a small one; the ideas and feelings suggested are not numerous

+and massive enough to carry off the nervous energy to be expended. The

+excess must therefore discharge itself in some other direction; and in

+the way already explained, there results an efflux through the motor

+nerves to various classes of the muscles, producing the half-convulsive

+actions we term laughter.

+

+This explanation is in harmony with the fact that when, among several

+persons who witness the same ludicrous occurrence, there are some

+who do not laugh, it is because there has arisen in them an emotion

+not participated in by the rest, and which is sufficiently massive

+to absorb all the nascent excitement. Among the spectators of an

+awkward tumble, those who preserve their gravity are those in whom

+there is excited a degree of sympathy with the sufferer, sufficiently

+great to serve as an outlet for the feeling which the occurrence had

+turned out of its previous course. Sometimes anger carries off the

+arrested current; and so prevents laughter. An instance of this was

+lately furnished me by a friend who had been witnessing the feats at

+Franconi’s. A tremendous leap had just been made by an acrobat over a

+number of horses. The clown, seemingly envious of this success, made

+ostentatious preparation for doing the like; {463} and then, taking

+the preliminary run with immense energy, stopped short on reaching the

+first horse, and pretended to wipe some dust from its haunches. In most

+of the spectators, merriment was excited; but in my friend, wound up by

+the expectation of the coming leap to a state of great nervous tension,

+the effect of the baulk was to produce indignation. Experience thus

+proves what the theory implies; namely, that the discharge of arrested

+feelings into the muscular system, takes place only in the absence

+of other adequate channels—does not take place if there arise other

+feelings equal in amount to those arrested.

+

+Evidence still more conclusive is at hand. If we contrast the

+incongruities which produce laughter with those which do not, we

+see that in the non-ludicrous ones the unexpected feeling aroused,

+though wholly different in kind, is not less in quantity or intensity.

+Among incongruities which may excite anything but a laugh, Mr. Bain

+instances—“A decrepit man under a heavy burden, five loaves and two

+fishes among a multitude, and all unfitness and gross disproportion;

+an instrument out of tune, a fly in ointment, snow in May, Archimedes

+studying geometry in a siege, and all discordant things; a wolf in

+sheep’s clothing, a breach of bargain, and falsehood in general; the

+multitude taking the law in their own hands, and everything of the

+nature of disorder; a corpse at a feast, parental cruelty, filial

+ingratitude, and whatever is unnatural; the entire catalogue of

+the vanities given by Solomon, are all incongruous, but they cause

+feelings of pain, anger, sadness, loathing, rather than mirth.” Now in

+these cases, where the totally unlike state of consciousness suddenly

+produced, is not inferior in mass to the preceding one, the conditions

+to laughter are not fulfilled. As above shown, laughter naturally

+results only when consciousness is unawares transferred from great

+things to small—only when there is what we may call a _descending_

+incongruity.

+

+And now observe, finally, the fact, alike inferable _a priori_ {464}

+and illustrated in experience, that an _ascending_ incongruity not

+only fails to cause laughter, but works on the muscular system an

+effect of the reverse kind. When after something very insignificant

+there arises without anticipation something very great, the emotion we

+call wonder results; and this emotion is accompanied not by contraction

+of the muscles, but by relaxation of them. In children and country

+people, that falling of the jaw which occurs on witnessing an imposing

+and unexpected change, exemplifies this effect. Persons wonder-struck

+at the production of a striking result by a seemingly-inadequate cause,

+are frequently described as unconsciously dropping the things they held

+in their hands. Such are just the effects to be anticipated. After

+an average state of consciousness, absorbing but a small quantity of

+nervous energy, is aroused without notice, a strong emotion of awe,

+terror, or admiration; joined with the astonishment due to an apparent

+want of adequate causation. This new state of consciousness demands

+far more nervous energy than that which it has suddenly replaced; and

+this increased absorption of nervous energy in mental changes, involves

+a temporary diminution of the outflow in other directions: whence the

+pendent jaw and the relaxing grasp.

+

+One further observation is worth making. Among the several sets of

+channels into which surplus feeling might be discharged, was named

+the nervous system of the viscera. The sudden overflow of an arrested

+mental excitement, which, as we have seen, results from a descending

+incongruity, must doubtless stimulate not only the muscular system, as

+we see it does, but also the internal organs: the heart and stomach

+must come in for a share of the discharge. And thus there seems to be

+a good physiological basis for the popular notion that mirth-creating

+excitement facilitates digestion.

+

+       *       *       *       *       *

+

+Though, in doing so, I go beyond the boundaries of the {465} immediate

+topic, I may fitly point out that the method of inquiry here followed,

+opens the way to interpretation of various phenomena besides those of

+laughter. To show the importance of pursuing it, I will indicate the

+explanation it furnishes of another familiar class of facts.

+

+All know how generally a large amount of emotion disturbs the action of

+the intellect, and interferes with the power of expression. A speech

+delivered with great facility to tables and chairs, is by no means so

+easily delivered to an audience. Every schoolboy can testify that his

+trepidation, when standing before a master, has often disabled him

+from repeating a lesson which he had duly learnt. In explanation of

+this we commonly say that the attention is distracted—that the proper

+train of ideas is broken by the intrusion of ideas that are irrelevant.

+But the question is, in what manner does unusual emotion produce this

+effect; and we are here supplied with a tolerably obvious answer. The

+repetition of a lesson, or set speech previously thought out, implies

+the flow of a very moderate amount of nervous excitement through a

+comparatively narrow channel. The thing to be done is simply to call

+up in succession certain previously-arranged ideas—a process in which

+no great amount of mental energy is expended. Hence, when there is a

+large quantity of emotion, which must be discharged in some direction

+or other; and when, as usually happens, the restricted series of

+intellectual actions to be gone through, does not suffice to carry

+it off; there result discharges along other channels besides the one

+prescribed: there are aroused various ideas foreign to the train of

+thought to be pursued; and these tend to exclude from consciousness

+those which should occupy it.

+

+And now observe the meaning of those bodily actions spontaneously set

+up under these circumstances. The schoolboy saying his lesson, commonly

+has his fingers actively engaged—perhaps in twisting about a broken

+pen, or perhaps in squeezing the angle of his jacket; and if told to

+keep his {466} hands still, he soon again falls into the same or a

+similar trick. Many anecdotes are current of public speakers having

+incurable automatic actions of this class: barristers who perpetually

+wound and unwound pieces of tape; members of parliament ever putting

+on and taking off their spectacles. So long as such movements are

+unconscious, they facilitate the mental actions. At least this seems

+a fair inference from the fact that confusion frequently results from

+putting a stop to them: witness the case narrated by Sir Walter Scott

+of his school-fellow, who became unable to say his lesson after the

+removal of the waistcoat button which he habitually fingered while in

+class. But why do they facilitate the mental actions? Clearly because

+they draw off a portion of the surplus nervous excitement. If, as above

+explained, the quantity of mental energy generated is greater than can

+find vent along the narrow channel of thought that is open to it; and

+if, in consequence, it is apt to produce confusion by rushing into

+other channels of thought; then, by allowing it an exit through the

+motor nerves into the muscular system, the pressure is diminished, and

+irrelevant ideas are less likely to intrude on consciousness.

+

+This further illustration will, I think, justify the position that

+something may be achieved by pursuing in other cases this kind of

+psychological inquiry. A complete explanation of the phenomena,

+requires us to trace out _all_ the consequences of any given state of

+consciousness; and we cannot do this without studying the effects,

+bodily and mental, as varying in quantity at one another’s expense. We

+should probably learn much if in every case we asked—Where is all the

+nervous energy gone?

+

+

+ENDNOTE TO _THE PHYSIOLOGY OF LAUGHTER_.

+

+[60] For numerous illustrations see essay on “The Origin and Function

+of Music.”

+

+END OF VOL. II.

+

+

+

+

+MR. HERBERT SPENCER’S WORKS.

+

+

+_A SYSTEM OF SYNTHETIC PHILOSOPHY._

+

+

+ _8th Thousand._

+ (WITH AN APPENDIX DEALING WITH CRITICISMS.)

+ In one vol. 8vo, cloth, price 16s.,

+ FIRST PRINCIPLES.

+

+CONTENTS.

+

+PART I.—THE UNKNOWABLE.

+

+ 1. Religion and Science.

+ 2. Ultimate Religious Ideas.

+ 3. Ultimate Scientific Ideas.

+ 4. The Relativity of All Knowledge.

+ 5. The Reconciliation.

+

+PART II.—THE KNOWABLE.

+

+ 1. Philosophy Defined

+ 2. The Data of Philosophy.

+ 3. Space, Time, Matter, Motion, and Force.

+ 4. The Indestructibility of Matter.

+ 5. The Continuity of Motion.

+ 6. The Persistence of Force.

+ 7. The Persistence of Relations among Forces.

+ 8. The Transformation and Equivalence of Forces.

+ 9. The Direction of Motion.

+ 10. The Rhythm of Motion.

+ 11. Recapitulation, Criticism, and Recommencement.

+ 12. Evolution and Dissolution.

+ 13. Simple and Compound Evolution.

+ 14. The Law of Evolution.

+ 15. The Law of Evolution, continued.

+ 16. The Law of Evolution, continued.

+ 17. The Law of Evolution, concluded.

+ 18. The Interpretation of Evolution.

+ 19. The Instability of the Homogeneous.

+ 20. The Multiplication of Effects.

+ 21. Segregation.

+ 22. Equilibration.

+ 23. Dissolution.

+ 24. Summary and Conclusion.

+

+

+ _4th Thousand._

+ In two vols. 8vo, cloth, price 34s.

+ THE PRINCIPLES OF BIOLOGY.

+

+CONTENTS OF VOL. I.

+

+PART I.—THE DATA OF BIOLOGY.

+

+ 1. Organic Matter.

+ 2. The Actions of Forces on Organic Matter.

+ 3. The Re-actions of Organic Matter on Forces.

+ 4. Proximate Definition of Life.

+ 5. The Correspondence between Life and its Circumstances.

+ 6. The Degree of Life varies as the Degree of Correspondence.

+ 7. The Scope of Biology.

+

+PART II.—THE INDUCTIONS OF BIOLOGY.

+

+ 1. Growth.

+ 2. Development.

+ 3. Function.

+ 4. Waste and Repair.

+ 5. Adaptation.

+ 6. Individuality.

+ 7. Genesis.

+ 8. Heredity.

+ 9. Variation.

+ 10. Genesis, Heredity, and Variation.

+ 11. Classification.

+ 12. Distribution.

+

+PART III.—THE EVOLUTION OF LIFE.

+

+ 1. Preliminary.

+ 2. General Aspects of the Special-Creation-Hypothesis.

+ 3. General Aspects of the Evolution-Hypothesis.

+ 4. The Arguments from Classification.

+ 5. The Arguments from Embryology.

+ 6. The Arguments from Morphology.

+ 7. The Arguments from Distribution.

+ 8. How is Organic Evolution caused?

+ 9. External Factors.

+ 10. Internal Factors.

+ 11. Direct Equilibration.

+ 12. Indirect Equilibration.

+ 13. The Co-operation of the Factors.

+ 14. The Convergence of the Evidences.

+

+APPENDIX.

+

+ The Spontaneous-Generation Question.

+

+CONTENTS OF VOL. II.

+

+PART IV.—MORPHOLOGICAL DEVELOPMENT.

+

+ 1. The Problems of Morphology.

+ 2. The Morphological Composition of Plants.

+ 3. The Morphological Composition of Plants, continued.

+ 4. The Morphological Composition of Animals.

+ 5. The Morphological Composition of Animals, continued.

+ 6. Morphological Differentiation in Plants.

+ 7. The General Shapes of Plants.

+ 8. The Shapes of Branches.

+ 9. The Shapes of Leaves.

+ 10. The Shapes of Flowers.

+ 11. The Shapes of Vegetal Cells.

+ 12. Changes of Shape otherwise caused.

+ 13. Morphological Differentiation in Animals.

+ 14. The General Shapes of Animals.

+ 15. The Shapes of Vertebrate Skeletons.

+ 16. The Shapes of Animal Cells.

+ 17. Summary of Morphological Development.

+

+PART V.—PHYSIOLOGICAL DEVELOPMENT.

+

+ 1. The Problems of Physiology.

+

+ 2. Differentiations between the Outer and Inner Tissues of Plants.

+

+ 3. Differentiations among the Outer Tissues of Plants.

+

+ 4. Differentiations among the Inner Tissues of Plants.

+

+ 5. Physiological Integration in Plants.

+

+ 6. Differentiations between the Outer and Inner Tissues of Animals.

+

+ 7. Differentiations among the Outer Tissues of Animals.

+

+ 8. Differentiations among the Inner Tissues of Animals.

+

+ 9. Physiological Integration in Animals.

+

+ 10. Summary of Physiological Development.

+

+PART VI.—LAWS OF MULTIPLICATION.

+

+ 1. The Factors.

+

+ 2. _À Priori_ Principle.

+

+ 3. Obverse _à priori_ Principle.

+

+ 4. Difficulties of Inductive Verification.

+

+ 5. Antagonism between Growth and Asexual Genesis.

+

+ 6. Antagonism between Growth and Sexual Genesis.

+

+ 7. Antagonism between Development and Genesis, Asexual and Sexual.

+

+ 8. Antagonism between Expenditure and Genesis.

+

+ 9. Coincidence between high Nutrition and Genesis.

+

+ 10. Specialities of these Relations.

+

+ 11. Interpretation and Qualification.

+

+ 12. Multiplication of the Human Race.

+

+ 13. Human Evolution in the Future.

+

+APPENDIX.

+

+ A Criticism on Professor Owen’s Theory of the Vertebrate Skeleton.

+

+ On Circulation and the Formation of Wood in Plants.

+

+

+ _5th Thousand._

+ (WITH AN ADDITIONAL PART.)

+ In two vols. 8vo, cloth, price 36s.,

+ THE PRINCIPLES OF PSYCHOLOGY.

+

+CONTENTS OF VOL. I.

+

+PART I.—THE DATA OF PSYCHOLOGY.

+

+ 1. The Nervous System.

+ 2. The Structure of the Nervous System.

+ 3. The Functions of the Nervous System.

+ 4. The Conditions essential to Nervous Action.

+ 5. Nervous Stimulation and Nervous Discharge.

+ 6. Æstho-Physiology.

+

+PART II.—THE INDUCTIONS OF PSYCHOLOGY.

+

+ 1. The Substance of Mind.

+ 2. The Composition of Mind.

+ 3. The Relativity of Feelings.

+ 4. The Relativity of Relations between Feelings.

+ 5. The Revivability of Feelings.

+ 6. The Revivability of Relations between Feelings.

+ 7. The Associability of Feelings.

+ 8. The Associability of Relations between Feelings.

+ 9. Pleasures and Pains.

+

+PART III.—GENERAL SYNTHESIS.

+

+ 1. Life and Mind as Correspondence.

+ 2. The Correspondence as Direct and Homogeneous.

+ 3. The Correspondence as Direct but Heterogeneous.

+ 4. The Correspondence as extending in Space.

+ 5. The Correspondence as extending in Time.

+ 6. The Correspondence as increasing in Speciality.

+ 7. The Correspondence as increasing in Generality.

+ 8. The Correspondence as increasing in Complexity.

+ 9. The Co-ordination of Correspondences.

+ 10. The Integration of Correspondences.

+ 11. The Correspondences in their Totality.

+

+PART IV.—SPECIAL SYNTHESIS.

+

+ 1. The Nature of Intelligence.

+ 2. The Law of Intelligence.

+ 3. The Growth of Intelligence.

+ 4. Reflex Action.

+ 5. Instinct.

+ 6. Memory.

+ 7. Reason.

+ 8. The Feelings.

+ 9. The Will.

+

+PART V.—PHYSICAL SYNTHESIS.

+

+ 1. A Further Interpretation Needed.

+ 2. The Genesis of Nerves.

+ 3. The Genesis of Simple Nervous Systems.

+ 4. The Genesis of Compound Nervous Systems.

+ 5. The Genesis of Doubly-Compound Nervous Systems.

+ 6. Functions as Related to these Structures.

+ 7. Psychical Laws as thus Interpreted.

+ 8. Evidence from Normal Variations.

+ 9. Evidence from Abnormal Variations.

+ 10. Results.

+

+APPENDIX.

+

+ On the Action of Anæsthetics and Narcotics.

+

+CONTENTS OF VOL. II.

+

+PART VI.—SPECIAL ANALYSIS.

+

+ 1. Limitation of the Subject.

+

+ 2. Compound Quantitative Reasoning.

+

+ 3. Compound Quantitative Reasoning, continued.

+

+ 4. Imperfect and Simple Quantitative Reasoning.

+

+ 5. Quantitative Reasoning in General.

+

+ 6. Perfect Qualitative Reasoning.

+

+ 7. Imperfect Qualitative Reasoning.

+

+ 8. Reasoning in General.

+

+ 9. Classification, Naming, and Recognition.

+

+ 10. The Perception of Special Objects.

+

+ 11. The Perception of Body as presenting Dynamical, Statico-Dynamical,

+ and Statical Attributes.

+

+ 12. The Perception of Body as presenting Statico-Dynamical and

+ Statical Attributes.

+

+ 13. The Perception of Body as presenting Statical Attributes.

+

+ 14. The Perception of Space.

+

+ 15. The Perception of Time.

+

+ 16. The Perception of Motion.

+

+ 17. The Perception of Resistance.

+

+ 18. Perception in General.

+

+ 19. The Relations of Similarity and Dissimilarity.

+

+ 20. The Relations of Cointension and Non-Cointension.

+

+ 21. The Relations of Coextension and Non-Coextension.

+

+ 22. The Relations of Coexistence and Non-Coexistence.

+

+ 23. The Relations of Connature and Non-Connature.

+

+ 24. The Relations of Likeness and Unlikeness.

+

+ 25. The Relation of Sequence.

+

+ 26. Consciousness in General.

+

+ 27. Results.

+

+PART VII.—GENERAL ANALYSIS.

+

+ 1. The Final Question.

+ 2. The Assumption of Metaphysicians.

+ 3. The Words of Metaphysicians.

+ 4. The Reasonings of Metaphysicians.

+ 5. Negative Justification of Realism.

+ 6. Argument from Priority.

+ 7. The Argument from Simplicity.

+ 8. The Argument from Distinctness.

+ 9. A Criterion Wanted.

+ 10. Propositions qualitatively distinguished.

+ 11. The Universal Postulate.

+ 12. The test of Relative Validity.

+ 13. Its Corollaries.

+ 14. Positive Justification of Realism.

+ 15. The Dynamics of Consciousness.

+ 16. Partial Differentiation of Subject and Object.

+ 17. Completed Differentiation of Subject and Object.

+ 18. Developed Conception of the Object.

+ 19. Transfigured Realism.

+

+PART VIII.—CONGRUITIES.

+

+ 1. Preliminary.

+ 2. Co-ordination of Data and Inductions.

+ 3. Co-ordination of Syntheses.

+ 4. Co-ordination of Special Analyses.

+ 5. Co-ordination of General Analyses.

+ 6. Final Comparison.

+

+PART IX.—COROLLARIES.

+

+ 1. Special Psychology.

+ 2. Classification.

+ 3. Development of Conceptions.

+ 4. Language of the Emotions.

+ 5. Sociality and Sympathy.

+ 6. Egoistic Sentiments.

+ 7. Ego-Altruistic Sentiments.

+ 8. Altruistic Sentiments.

+ 9. Æsthetic Sentiments.

+

+

+ _3rd Edition, revised and enlarged._

+ In 8vo., cloth, price 21s., Vol. I. of

+ THE PRINCIPLES OF SOCIOLOGY.

+

+CONTENTS.

+

+PART I.—THE DATA OF SOCIOLOGY.

+

+ 1. Super-Organic Evolution.

+

+ 2. The Factors of Social Phenomena.

+

+ 3. Original External Factors.

+

+ 4. Original Internal Factors.

+

+ 5. The Primitive Man—Physical.

+

+ 6. The Primitive Man—Emotional.

+

+ 7. The Primitive Man—Intellectual.

+

+ 8. Primitive Ideas.

+

+ 9. The Ideas of the Animate and the Inanimate.

+

+ 10. The Ideas of Sleep and Dreams.

+

+ 11. The Ideas of Swoon, Apoplexy, Catelepsy, Ecstacy, and other forms

+ of Insensibility.

+

+ 12. The Ideas of Death and Resurrection.

+

+ 13. The Ideas of Souls, Ghosts, Spirits, Demons.

+

+ 14. The Ideas of Another Life.

+

+ 15. The Ideas of Another World.

+

+ 16. The Ideas of Supernatural Agents.

+

+ 17. Supernatural Agents as causing Epilepsy and Convulsive Actions,

+ Delirium and Insanity, Disease and Death.

+

+ 18. Inspiration, Divination, Exorcism, and Sorcery.

+

+ 19. Sacred Places, Temples, and Altars; Sacrifice, Fasting, and

+ Propitiation; Praise and Prayer.

+

+ 20. Ancestor-Worship in General.

+

+ 21. Idol-Worship and Fetich-Worship.

+

+ 22. Animal-Worship.

+

+ 23. Plant-Worship.

+

+ 24. Nature-Worship.

+

+ 25. Deities.

+

+ 26. The Primitive Theory of Things.

+

+ 27. The Scope of Sociology.

+

+PART II.—THE INDUCTIONS OF SOCIOLOGY.

+

+ 1. What is a Society?

+ 2. A Society is an Organism.

+ 3. Social Growth.

+ 4. Social Structures.

+ 5. Social Functions.

+ 6. Systems of Organs.

+ 7. The Sustaining System.

+ 8. The Distributing System.

+ 9. The Regulating System.

+ 10. Social Types and Constitutions.

+ 11. Social Metamorphoses.

+ 12. Qualifications and Summary.

+

+PART III.—THE DOMESTIC RELATIONS.

+

+ 1. The Maintenance of Species.

+

+ 2. The Diverse Interests of the Species, of the Parents, and of the

+ Offspring.

+

+ 3. Primitive Relations of the Sexes.

+

+ 4. Exogamy and Endogamy.

+

+ 5. Promiscuity.

+

+ 6. Polyandry.

+

+ 7. Polygyny.

+

+ 8. Monogamy.

+

+ 9. The Family.

+

+ 10. The _Status_ of Women.

+

+ 11. The _Status_ of Children.

+

+ 12. Domestic Retrospect and Prospect.

+

+

+ _2nd Thousand._

+ In 8vo, cloth, price 18s. Vol. II of

+ THE PRINCIPLES OF SOCIOLOGY.

+

+ (_Containing the two following divisions, which may still_

+ _be had separately._)

+

+

+ In one vol. 8vo, cloth, price 7s.,

+ CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS.

+

+CONTENTS.

+

+ 1. Ceremony in General.

+ 2. Trophies.

+ 3. Mutilations.

+ 4. Presents.

+ 5. Visits.

+ 6. Obeisances.

+ 7. Forms of Address.

+ 8. Titles.

+ 9. Badges and Costumes.

+ 10. Further Class-Distinctions.

+ 11. Fashion.

+ 12. Ceremonial Retrospect and Prospect.

+

+

+ In one vol. 8vo, cloth, price 12s.

+ POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS.

+

+CONTENTS.

+

+ 1. Preliminary.

+ 2. Political Organization in General.

+ 3. Political Integration.

+ 4. Political Differentiation.

+ 5. Political Forms and Forces.

+ 6. Political Heads—Chiefs, Kings, etc.

+ 7. Compound Political Heads.

+ 8. Consultative Bodies.

+ 9. Representative Bodies.

+ 10. Ministries.

+ 11. Local Governing Agencies.

+ 12. Military Systems.

+ 13. Judicial Systems.

+ 14. Laws.

+ 15. Property.

+ 16. Revenue.

+ 17. The Militant Type of Society.

+ 18. The Industrial Type of Society.

+ 19. Political Retrospect and Prospect.

+

+

+ _2nd Thousand._

+ In one vol. 8vo., cloth, price 5_s._

+ ECCLESIASTICAL INSTITUTIONS.

+

+(_Being Part VI. of the PRINCIPLES OF SOCIOLOGY._)

+

+CONTENTS.

+

+ 1. The Religious Idea.

+ 2. Medicine-men and Priests.

+ 3. Priestly Duties of Descendants.

+ 4. Eldest Male Descendants as Quasi-Priests.

+ 5. The Ruler as Priest.

+ 6. The Rise of a Priesthood.

+ 7. Polytheistic and Monotheistic Priesthoods.

+ 8. Ecclesiastical Hierarchies.

+ 9. An Ecclesiastical System as a Social Bond.

+ 10. The Military Functions of Priests.

+ 11. The Civil Functions of Priests.

+ 12. Church and State.

+ 13. Nonconformity.

+ 14. The Moral Influences of Priesthoods.

+ 15. Ecclesiastical Retrospect and Prospect.

+ 16. Religious Retrospect and Prospect.

+

+

+ _5th Thousand._

+

+ WITH AN APPENDIX, CONTAINING AN ADDITIONAL CHAPTER, AND

+ REPLIES TO CRITICISMS.

+

+ In one vol. 8vo, cloth, price 8s.,

+

+ THE DATA OF ETHICS.

+

+(_Being Part I. of the PRINCIPLES OF ETHICS._)

+

+CONTENTS.

+

+ 1. Conduct in General.

+ 2. The Evolution of Conduct.

+ 3. Good and Bad Conduct.

+ 4. Ways of Judging Conduct.

+ 5. The Physical View.

+ 6. The Biological View.

+ 7. The Psychological View.

+ 8. The Sociological View.

+ 9. Criticisms and Explanations.

+ 10. The Relativity of Pains and Pleasures.

+ 11. Egoism _versus_ Altruism.

+ 12. Altruism _versus_ Egoism.

+ 13. Trial and Compromise.

+ 14. Conciliation.

+ 15. Absolute Ethics and Relative Ethics.

+ 16. The Scope of Ethics.

+

+

+_OTHER WORKS._

+

+

+ _5th Thousand._

+ In one vol. 8vo, cloth, price 6s.,

+ EDUCATION:

+ INTELLECTUAL, MORAL, AND PHYSICAL.

+

+CONTENTS.

+

+ 1. What Knowledge is of most Worth?

+ 2. Intellectual Education.

+ 3. Moral Education.

+ 4. Physical Education.

+

+

+ _Also, 20th and 21st Thousand,_

+ _A CHEAP EDITION OF THE FOREGOING WORK._

+

+In one vol. crown 8vo, price 2s. 6d.

+

+

+ _Library Edition (the 9th), with a Postscript._

+ In one vol., price 10s. 6d.,

+ THE STUDY OF SOCIOLOGY.

+

+CONTENTS.

+

+ 1. Our Need of it.

+ 2. Is there a Social Science?

+ 3. Nature of the Social Science.

+ 4. Difficulties of the Social Science.

+ 5. Objective Difficulties.

+ 6. Subjective Difficulties—Intellectual.

+ 7. Subjective Difficulties—Emotional.

+ 8. The Educational Bias.

+ 9. The Bias of Patriotism.

+ 10. The Class-Bias.

+ 11. The Political Bias.

+ 12. The Theological Bias.

+ 13. Discipline.

+ 14. Preparation in Biology.

+ 15. Preparation in Psychology.

+ 16. Conclusion.

+     Postscript.

+

+

+ _10th Thousand._

+ In wrapper, 1s., in cloth, better paper, 2s. 6d.

+ THE MAN _VERSUS_ THE STATE.

+

+CONTENTS.

+

+ 1. The New Toryism.

+ 2. The Coming Slavery.

+ 3. The Sins of Legislators.

+ 4. The Great Political Superstition.

+    Postscript.

+

+

+ _4th Thousand._

+ In two vols. 8vo, cloth, price 16s.,

+ ESSAYS:

+ SCIENTIFIC, POLITICAL, AND SPECULATIVE.

+

+CONTENTS OF VOL. I.

+

+ 1. Progress: its Law and Cause.

+ 2. Manners and Fashion.

+ 3. The Genesis of Science.

+ 4. The Physiology of Laughter.

+ 5. The Origin and Function of Music.

+ 6. The Nebular Hypothesis.

+ 7. Bain on the Emotions and the Will.

+ 8. Illogical Geology.

+ 9. The Development Hypothesis.

+ 10. The Social Organism.

+ 11. Use and Beauty.

+ 12. The Sources of Architectural Types.

+ 13. The Use of Anthropomorphism.

+

+CONTENTS OF VOL. II.

+

+ 1. The Philosophy of Style.

+ 2. Over-Legislation.

+ 3. The Morals of Trade.

+ 4. Personal Beauty.

+ 5. Representative Government.

+ 6. Prison Ethics.

+ 7. Railway Morals and Railway Policy.

+ 8. Gracefulness.

+ 9. State-Tamperings with Money and Banks.

+ 10. Parliamentary Reform: the Dangers and the Safeguards.

+ 11. Mill _versus_ Hamilton—the Test of Truth.

+

+

+ _3rd Edition._

+ In one vol. 8vo., price 8s.,

+ THIRD SERIES OF

+ ESSAYS:

+

+CONTENTS.

+

+ 1. The Classification of the Sciences (with a Postscript, replying to

+ Criticisms).

+

+ 2. Reasons for Dissenting from the Philosophy of M. Comte.

+

+ 3. Laws in General.

+

+ 4. The Origin of Animal-Worship.

+

+ 5. Specialized Administration.

+

+ 6. “The Collective Wisdom.”

+

+ 7. Political Fetichism.

+

+ 8. What is Electricity?

+

+ 9. The Constitution of the Sun.

+

+ 10. Mr. Martineau on Evolution.

+

+ 11. Replies to Criticisms.

+

+ 12. Transcendental Physiology.

+

+ 13. The Comparative Psychology of Man.

+

+

+ Price 2s. 6d.,

+ THE FACTORS OF ORGANIC EVOLUTION.

+

+

+ DESCRIPTIVE SOCIOLOGY; OR GROUPS OF SOCIOLOGICAL FACTS, CLASSIFIED AND

+ ARRANGED BY HERBERT SPENCER,

+

+COMPILED AND ABSTRACTED BY

+

+DAVID DUNCAN, M.A., Professor of Logic, &c., in the Presidency College,

+Madras; RICHARD SCHEPPIG, Ph.D.; and JAMES COLLIER.

+

+EXTRACT FROM THE PROVISIONAL PREFACE.

+

+Something to introduce the work of which an instalment is annexed,

+seems needful, in anticipation of the time when completion of a volume

+will give occasion for a Permanent Preface.

+

+In preparation for _The Principles of Sociology_, requiring as bases of

+induction large accumulations of data, fitly arranged for comparison,

+I, some twelve years ago, commenced, by proxy, the collection and

+organization of facts presented by societies of different types,

+past and present; being fortunate enough to secure the services of

+gentlemen competent to carry on the process in the way I wished.

+Though this classified compilation of materials was entered upon

+solely to facilitate my own work; yet, after having brought the mode

+of classification to a satisfactory form, and after having had some

+of the Tables filled up, I decided to have the undertaking executed

+with a view to publication; the facts collected and arranged for easy

+reference and convenient study of their relations, being so presented,

+apart from hypothesis, as to aid all students of Social Science in

+testing such conclusions as they have drawn and in drawing others.

+

+The Work consists of three large Divisions. Each comprises a set

+of Tables exhibiting the facts as abstracted and classified, and a

+mass of quotations and abridged abstracts otherwise classified, on

+which the statements contained in the Tables are based. The condensed

+statements, arranged after a uniform manner, give, in each Table or

+succession of Tables, the phenomena of all orders which each society

+presents—constitute an account of its morphology, its physiology, and

+(if a society having a known history) its development. On the other

+hand, the collected Extracts, serving as authorities for the statements

+in the Tables, are (or, rather will be, when the Work is complete)

+classified primarily according to the kinds of phenomena to which they

+refer, and secondarily according to the societies exhibiting these

+phenomena; so that each kind of phenomenon as it is displayed in all

+societies, may be separately studied with convenience.

+

+In further explanation I may say that the classified compilations and

+digests of materials to be thus brought together under the title of

+_Descriptive Sociology_, are intended to supply the student of Social

+Science with data, standing towards his conclusions in a relation like

+that in which accounts of the structures and functions of different

+types of animals stand to the conclusions of the biologist. Until there

+had been such systematic descriptions of different kinds of organisms,

+as made it possible to compare the connexions, and forms, and actions,

+and modes of origin, of their parts, the Science of Life could make no

+progress. And in like manner, before there can be reached in Sociology,

+generalizations having a certainty making them worthy to be called

+scientific, there must be definite accounts of the institutions and

+actions of societies of various types, and in various stages of

+evolution, so arranged as to furnish the means of readily ascertaining

+what social phenomena are habitually associated.

+

+Respecting the tabulation, devised for the purpose of exhibiting social

+phenomena in a convenient way, I may explain that the primary aim

+has been so to present them that their relations of simultaneity and

+succession may be seen at one view. As used for delineating uncivilized

+societies, concerning which we have no records, the tabular form

+serves only to display the various social traits as they are found to

+co-exist. But as used for delineating societies having known histories,

+the tabular form is so employed as to exhibit not only the connexions

+of phenomena existing at the same time, but also the connexions of

+phenomena that succeed one another. By reading horizontally across a

+Table at any period, there may be gained a knowledge of the traits of

+all orders displayed by the society at that period; while by reading

+down each column, there may be gained a knowledge of the modifications

+which each trait, structural or functional, underwent during successive

+periods.

+

+Of course, the tabular form fulfils these purposes but approximately.

+To preserve complete simultaneity in the statements of facts, as read

+from side to side of the Tables, has proved impracticable; here much

+had to be inserted, and there little; so that complete correspondence

+in time could not be maintained. Moreover, it has not been possible

+to carry out the mode of classification in a theoretically-complete

+manner, by increasing the number of columns as the classes of facts

+multiply in the course of Civilization. To represent truly the progress

+of things, each column should divide and sub-divide in successive ages,

+so as to indicate the successive differentiations of the phenomena.

+But typographical difficulties have negatived this: a great deal has

+had to be left in a form which must be accepted simply as the least

+unsatisfactory.

+

+The three Divisions constituting the entire work, comprehend three

+groups of societies:—(1) _Uncivilized Societies_; (2) _Civilized

+Societies—Extinct or Decayed_; (3) _Civilized Societies—Recent or Still

+Flourishing_. These divisions have at present reached the following

+stages:―

+

+DIVISION I.—_Uncivilized Societies._ Commenced in 1867 by the gentleman

+I first engaged, Mr. DAVID DUNCAN, M.A. (now Professor of Logic,

+&c., in the Presidency College, Madras), and continued by him since

+he left England, this part of the work is complete. It contains four

+parts, including “Types of Lowest Races,” the “Negrito Races,” the

+“Malayo-Polynesian Races,” the “African Races,” the “Asiatic Races,”

+and the “American Races.”

+

+DIVISION II.—_Civilized Societies—Extinct or Decayed._ On this part of

+the work Dr. RICHARD SCHEPPIG has been engaged since January, 1872. The

+first instalment, including the four Ancient American Civilizations,

+was issued in March, 1874. A second instalment, containing “Hebrews and

+Phœnicians,” will shortly be issued.

+

+DIVISION III.—_Civilized Societies—Recent or Still Flourishing._ Of

+this Division the first instalment, prepared by Mr. JAMES COLLIER, of

+St. Andrew’s and Edinburgh Universities, was issued in August, 1873.

+This presents the English Civilization. It covers seven consecutive

+Tables; and the Extracts occupy seventy pages folio. The next part,

+presenting in a still more extensive form the French Civilization, is

+now in the press.

+

+The successive parts belonging to these several Divisions, issued at

+intervals, are composed of different numbers of Tables and different

+numbers of Pages. The Uncivilized Societies occupy four parts, each

+containing a dozen or more Tables, with their accompanying Extracts.

+Of the Division comprising Extinct Civilized Societies, the first part

+contains four, and the second contains two. While of Existing Civilized

+Societies, the records of which are so much more extensive, each

+occupies a single part.

+

+ H. S.

+ _March, 1880._

+

+

+ _In Royal Folio, Price 18s._,

+ No. I.

+ English.

+

+COMPILED AND ABSTRACTED

+

+BY

+

+JAMES COLLIER.

+

+

+ _In Royal Folio, Price 16s._,

+ No. II.

+ Mexicans, Central Americans, Chibchas,

+ and Peruvians.

+

+COMPILED AND ABSTRACTED

+

+BY

+

+RICHARD SCHEPPIG, PH.D.

+

+

+ _In Royal Folio, Price 18s._,

+ No. III.

+ Lowest Races, Negrito Races, and

+ Malayo-Polynesian Races.

+

+COMPILED AND ABSTRACTED

+

+BY

+

+PROF. DUNCAN, M.A.

+

+TYPES OF LOWEST RACES.

+

+ Fuegians.

+ Andamanese.

+ Veddahs.

+ Australians.

+

+NEGRITO RACES.

+

+ Tasmanians.

+ New Caledonians, etc.

+ New Guinea People.

+ Fijians.

+

+MALAYO-POLYNESIAN RACES.

+

+ Sandwich Islanders.

+ Tahitians.

+ Tongans.

+ Samoans.

+ New Zealanders.

+ Dyaks.

+ Javans.

+ Sumatrans.

+ Malagasy.

+

+

+ _In Royal Folio, Price 16s._,

+ No. IV.

+ African Races.

+

+COMPILED AND ABSTRACTED

+

+BY

+

+PROF. DUNCAN, M.A.

+

+ Bushmen.

+ Hottentots.

+ Damaras.

+ Bechuanas.

+ Kaffirs.

+ East Africans.

+ Congo People.

+ Coast Negroes.

+ Inland Negroes.

+ Dahomans.

+ Ashantis.

+ Fulahs.

+ Abyssinians.

+

+

+ _In Royal Folio, Price 18s._,

+ No. V.

+ Asiatic Races.

+

+COMPILED AND ABSTRACTED

+

+BY

+

+PROF. DUNCAN, M.A.

+

+ Arabs.

+ Todas.

+ Khonds.

+ Gonds.

+ Bhils.

+ Santals.

+ Karens.

+ Kukis.

+ Nagas.

+ Bodo and Dhimals.

+ Mishmis.

+ Kirghiz.

+ Kalmucks.

+ Ostyaks.

+ Kamtschadales.

+

+

+ _In Royal Folio, Price 18s._,

+ No. VI.

+ American Races.

+

+COMPILED AND ABSTRACTED

+

+BY

+

+PROF. DUNCAN, M.A.

+

+ Esquimaux.

+ Chinooks.

+ Snakes.

+ Comanches.

+ Iroquois.

+ Chippewayans.

+ Chippewas.

+ Dakotas.

+ Mandans.

+ Creeks.

+ Guiana Tribes.

+ Caribs.

+ Brazilians.

+ Uaupés.

+ Abipones.

+ Patagonians.

+ Araucanians.

+

+

+ _In Royal Folio, Price 21s._,

+ No. VII.

+ Hebrews and Phœnicians.

+

+COMPILED AND ABSTRACTED

+

+BY

+

+RICHARD SCHEPPIG, PH.D.

+

+

+ _In Royal Folio, Price 30s._,

+ No. VIII.

+ French.

+

+COMPILED AND ABSTRACTED

+

+BY

+

+JAMES COLLIER.

+

+

+MR. HERBERT SPENCER’S WORKS.

+

+_A SYSTEM OF SYNTHETIC PHILOSOPHY._

+

+ FIRST PRINCIPLES                       16_s._

+

+ PRINCIPLES OF BIOLOGY. 2 vols.         34_s._

+

+ PRINCIPLES OF PSYCHOLOGY. 2 vols.      36_s._

+

+ PRINCIPLES OF SOCIOLOGY, Vol. I.       21_s._

+

+          DITTO           Vol. II.      18_s._

+

+(_This Volume includes the two following Works, which are at present

+published separately._)

+

+ CEREMONIAL INSTITUTIONS                 7_s._

+

+ POLITICAL INSTITUTIONS                 12_s._

+

+ ECCLESIASTICAL INSTITUTIONS             5_s._

+

+ THE DATA OF ETHICS                      8_s._

+

+

+_OTHER WORKS._

+

+ THE STUDY OF SOCIOLOGY           10_s._ 6_d._

+

+ EDUCATION                               6_s._

+

+   DITTO      _Cheap Edition_      2_s._ 6_d._

+

+ ESSAYS. 2 vols.                        16_s._

+

+ ESSAYS (Third Series)                   8_s._

+

+ THE MAN _versus_ THE STATE        2_s._ 6_d._

+

+     DITTO       _Cheap Edition_         1_s._

+

+ REASONS FOR DISSENTING FROM THE

+     PHILOSOPHY OF M. COMTE              6_d._

+

+ THE FACTORS OF ORGANIC EVOLUTION  2_s._ 6_d._

+

+[For particulars see end of the volume.]

+

+WILLIAMS AND NORGATE,

+

+14, HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN, LONDON.

+

+

+ ALSO MR. SPENCER’S

+ _DESCRIPTIVE SOCIOLOGY_,

+

+COMPILED AND ABSTRACTED BY

+

+PROF. DUNCAN, DR. SCHEPPIG, & MR. COLLIER.

+

+FOLIO, BOARDS.

+

+ 1. ENGLISH                              18_s._

+

+ 2. ANCIENT AMERICAN RACES               16_s._

+

+ 3. LOWEST RACES, NEGRITOS, POLYNESIANS 18_s._

+

+ 4. AFRICAN RACES                        16_s._

+

+ 5. ASIATIC RACES                        18_s._

+

+ 6. AMERICAN RACES                       18_s._

+

+ 7. HEBREWS AND PHŒNICIANS               21_s._

+

+ 8. FRENCH                               30_s._

+

+[For particulars see end of the volume.]

+

+WILLIAMS AND NORGATE,

+

+14, HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN, LONDON.

+

+Harrison & Sons, Printers, St. Martin’s Lane.

+

+

+

+

+TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE

+

+This is Volume II (1891) of Spencer’s three volume series of Essays.

+Volume I (1891) has been published by Project Gutenberg as ebook 29869.

+Volume III (1904) is (ca 2016 October) in preparation at Project

+Gutenberg Distributed Proofreaders. Volume III contains an index for

+all three volumes. Original page scans are available from archive.org.

+

+Original spelling and grammar are generally retained, with a few

+exceptions noted below. Original italics _look like this_. Footnotes

+were renumbered 1–60, changed to endnotes, and moved to the ends of the

+appropriate essays. Original printed page numbers look like this: {35}.

+

+Page 84. Table I, originally printed on an unnumbered page between

+pages 84 and 85, has been moved to page 85, and recast as a nested list

+so as to function well in ebook format. In particular, large curly

+brackets “{” intended to combine information on more than one line have

+been eliminated. Table II, printed between pages 88 and 89 has been

+treated similarly, and moved to page 88. Table III, printed between

+pages 92 and 93 has been moved to page 92 and treated similarly.

+

+Page 125–130. In the comparison of Compte’s and Spencer’s propositions,

+the two columns of the table were rewrapped into equal widths, to fit

+a 72 character limit per line. This removes the original printed line

+per line correspondence, if any such was implied, but the original

+arrangement of the paragraphs is retained. The table of paragraphs

+on pp. 131–132 was treated in the same way. On page 126, the phrase

+“est essentiellement différent même radicalement opposé”, clearly

+missing something in the original printed book, was changed to “est

+essentiellement différent et même radicalement opposé”.

+

+Page 192. The large white spaces in the clause “Space is

+either        or is        ;” are retained from the printed book.

+

+

+

+

+

+

+

+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Essays: Scientific, Political, and

+Speculative; Vol. II of Three, by Herbert Spencer

+

+*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ESSAYS: SCIENTIFIC ***

+

+***** This file should be named 53395-0.txt or 53395-0.zip *****

+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:

+        http://www.gutenberg.org/5/3/3/9/53395/

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+Produced by Josep Cols Canals, Adrian Mastronardi, RichardW,

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+http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images

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+Libraries and Internet Archive/American Libraries.)

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