mm»- ^ The SELF: What Is It ? fyxmll Hmwsiitg pttat^g THE GIFT OF ....A,..J7 3.(;..H:0 2,zjxi%.±.. Cornell University Library arV13279 The self: what Is it? 3 1924 031 333 119 olln.anx Cornell University Library The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31 924031 33311 9 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? BY J. S. MALONE (second edition) CHICAGO CHARLES H. KERR & COMPANY 1893 <5' Copyright 1893 by Mary A. Malonb CONTENTS. PAGE Introduction 5 PART I. SENSIBILITY. CHAPTER I. Causality — A Predicate of Sensibility, . 23 II. The Same Continued 34 III. The Implications of End of Existence — Predicates of Sensibility 42 IV. Responsibility — A Predicate of Sensi- bility 46 V. Intelligence — A Predicate of Sensi- bility 49 VI. The Self — An Impersonation of Sensi- bility. 72 VII. Inferences and Objections Suggested by Part i 78 PART II. INTELLIGENCE. I. The Two Species of Cognition and Their Corresponding Objects 86 4 CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE II. Other Illustrations ii6 III. Discursive Cognition 134 Section 1. Imitation 135 Section 2. Physics 150 Section 3. A Practical Illustra- tion 154 Section 4. An Objection 158 Section 5. Another Objection.... 161 IV. Deduction and Induction: Analysis and Synthesis, &c 167 Section i. Growth 178 Section 2. Empirical View 189 Section 3. Evolution 195 V. A Glance at Several of Kant's Doc- trines 202 Section i. Popular Theory 207 Section 2. An Objection 212 Section 3. Experience 220 Section 4. Other and Higher Au- thority 225 VI. A Final Glance at Materialism 239 Conclusion 256 INTRODUCTION. The first and most vital trait of materialism is, that it primarily springs from sensibility, and not from in- telligence; from tendency, and not from theory. It is not possible to become a materialist by starting out with the question: Is mind or is matter the prime factor of the universe? To decide such question, mind and mind only, must be the sole judge, jury and law. As the sole active and interested party in the case, mind could not decide against itself; or even if it should, what would signify a decision coming from a self-repudiated source? Instead, materialism originates from tendency, and from vicious tendency withal. True enough, being once born from tendency, it makes haste to clothe it- self with theory, as a shield of defense. So also, every vicious act has a ready-made argument for its excuse or justification. This means that the why and how vice can justify itself, are identical with the why and how of materialism. Both alike disclose a serious flaw, either in intelligence or in sensibility; either in the head or in the heart. Which of the two is to blame? Rather, which of the two is the causal and responsible element of mind? 6 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? This is not a trite question; but the first and most - momentous one underlying human character. It is well to answer it on the spot: Which of the two is held responsible by a civil tribunal when trying a man for his life — which, his intelligence or his prompting sense motive? Of course, the question is too plain to be put to a sane man. But the strange fact is, though seeing and acting out the truth in practical life, on turning away, we instant!}' deny it in theory. That is to say, according to universal instinct and usage, the sense motive is the mainspring and responsible agent in the practical issues of life; while theoretically, in- telligence is the supreme authority: Am not I and all other discreet people governed by calm and sober re- flection? is an expression of it in theory. This contradiction — the admission of sense causali- ty in practice and its denial in theory, is the beginning point of all philosophical strife. The contradiction not only implies an error, but an all-inclusive error, respecting the root principle of human character. The question comes: Is sense or is intelligence the supreme authority of mind? Answer: Practically, sense is; theoretically, intelligence is. The latter will be seen to be a pure illusion; and as such, is the first and chief instrument of materialism — vicious ten- dency, for converting intelligence into a shield of de- fense. Materialism lurks in every path of experience, INTRODUCTION 7 •whether practical or theoretical, impeding the one and mystifying the other, much as darkness does the trav- eler. Every inquiry of moderate scope, no matter when, where, or by whom begun, sooner or later leads into the wilderness of materialism. No wonder then, that in one or other of its phases, it has been the main trouble of philosophy from the first. Through all the ages, thoughtful men, seeing its harmful influence, have made a life long struggle against it. To get fully rid of it — to make a clean sweep of the infamous plague once and for all, wise men, even before the days of Plato, resorted to idealism: denied the positive reality of matter, holding it to be an illusory -appearance only. In modern times, the devout and far-seeing Berkley is found fore most in this line of thought. Next and most nota- ble, are seen the four great German thinkers, led on by Kant, the aim of each seeming to be the phi- losophical annihilation of matter so as thereby and therewith, to chase the spectre materialism wholly out of existence. Their high and full blown zeal regarded it as a life and death question : either materialism is false and must b'e driven out of the present world, else all hope of a world to come is "vain. Nevertheless, though matter be annihilated; though materialism be left without any logical crutch; yet, like another old man of the sea, it 8 THE self: what is it? still holds its iron grip on the neck of philosophy. This is wholly inexplicable, except on the assump- tion, that it originates in and is backed by vicious tendency, which, springing perennially from de- praved sensibility, will continue to assert itself in spite of all logical opposition. But the point is, that the struggle of philosophy must ever continue vain and fruitless, so long as it stands on two such primary errors: (i) That ma- terialism is a creature of intelligence; and (2) that intelligence is the supreme authority of mind. To glimpse the question in a nut shell, let it be an- swered thoughtfully: How can a vicious man em- ploy intelligence for devising vicious deeds, and sub- sequently for justifying said deeds, except on the assumption, that sense is the controlling authority, with intelligence as its -passive instrument? That sensibility — including not only the five, but all the senses, is the causal and responsible agent, must be assumed as the first, most momentous, and self evident of philosophical truths. All our moral, religous, social, civil, political, and other institu- tions of practical import, are grounded on this great primary truth. Thu"s, to find the mainspring of any given action, we go straight to the sense motive, and award praise or blame, life or death, ac- cording to the moral quality of said motive; thus instinctively recognizing sense as the responsible INTRODUCTION 9 head, without one thought of intelligence, except as a passive instrument. Again, no one practical fact is plainer or more universal, than that every man's life is governed by some one or more senses — by the moral sense or otherwise, which dominating authority unceasingly employs intelligence as a passive instrument for serving its special purposes. Thus, the intelligence of the miser is always serving the demands of ava- rice, in money getting; that of the thief, in steal- ing; that of the ambitious man, in preferment; that of the philanthrophist, in doing good; that of the parent, in the well being of his family, and so on to the end; insomuch, that to know a man's ruling. sense or senses, is to know, in advance, how his intelligence will be employed. And again, we are necessitated to assume the veracity of intelligence in all cases; otherwise, our debates and inquiries which tacitly assume it, are the sheerest folly. But if intelligence be both truthful and self-controlling, then it could not — neither from choice nor from exterior force — be in- duced to take part in falsehood; indeed, on the assumption of its veracity and self-control, false- hood would be simply impossible. But as a matter of universal practical fact, intelligence is just as ready and just as willing to lie as to tell the truth ; just as efficient a tool for the thief, as for the phi- lo THE self: what is it? lanthropist. This shows beyond dispute, that while intelligence /i?r j^ is truthful, it is meanwhile passive and like all other passive instruments, may be indifferently employed, either for right or wrong purposes. / / / / / But this self-evident, practical fact, is denied in all speculative theory. . It is the usage in mental philosophy for instance, to begin, continue and end the inquiry, with intelligence; indeed, such inqui- ries, explicitly or implicitly, usually regard intelli- gence — divine reason, not only as the climax, but as the all-in-all of human character. -This is often done too, without one allusion to sense, unless of an in- cidental kind. From a practical common sense standpoint, this is to play Hamlet with Hamlet left out; it is to attempt an analysis of mind, with its basic element left out. This however, is the point to be emphasized : Here on the one hand, a world full of practical facts point to sensibility as the supreme authority of mind; while on the other, a world full of theo- ries assume intelligence to be supreme. As direct opposites, one of the two must be false; and being false, all deductions from it must be equally false, Whch is true, and which false? What is the highest tribunal for such an issue? What can be higher than universal instinct and usage, backed by a common sense interpretation of INTRODUCTION II the practical facts relevant to the issue? Accord- ing to this highest tribunal, intelligence, so far from being the autocrat of mind, is but a passive instrument — a mere cat's paw, for subserving the -demands of sensibility. To assume otherwise, is not only an error, but an all-inclusive error, re- specting the foundation principle of human charac- ter. Such a frightful error, at such a vital point, is ■certainly an ample answer to the ever-recurring -question: Why has philosophy made no decisive iorward step since the days of Plato? The. illusion leading to this contradiction be- tween practice and theory, is so subtle as to be quite difficult of realization. It will be fully no- ticed at the proper place; and with it, will be dis- ■closed an endless number of other consequent and kindred illusions, which perplex the world of the- ory. Just here and now, two questions demand notice: Why and how is such a fundamental con- tradiction possible? As respects the why, man would only be a ma- chine, and not a man, without his crowning trait of responsibility. But responsibility cannot exist without moral free agency; nor free agency, with out a power to do either right or wrong at option; nor the latter, without depravity. That is, the same provision made in the mental economy for the full play of depravity, free agency, etc., also 12 THE self: what IS IT? allows the misuse of intelligrence for purposes of contradiction, sophistry, falsehood, etc.; for, to preclude the latter, would balk free agency. The other question — as to the how or mode of contradiction, maj' be called the central problem of mental philosophy, especially if we judge from the magnitude of the contradiction just pointed out. Besides, it will be found that a full solution of contradiction, must sooner or later involve every distinctive trait of mind. Thus, the attempt to explain the contradictions of intelligence, by means of intelligence itself, im- plies two vital facts: (i) That intelligence —the instrument employed for the inquiry, is truthful per se, else it is extreme folly to employ it in this, or any other inquiry. But (2) the very point to be inquired about — the contradictions of intelligence, tacitly imply it to be false. But it cannot be both true and false. Besides, since to employ it at all, is to assume its integrity; and since, according to practical fact, its misuse is referable to an over-ruling sense — hereby involv- ing sense and its relationships; and since again on the other hand, to discriminate between the true and false phenomena of intelligence, must amount to an analysis of intelligence itself, it follows, that to properly explain contradiction, must involve an analysis of the entire mind — both sense and intel- INTRODUCTION I3 ligence. It is at least not extravagant to call it the central question of mental philosophy. Hence, and in other words, this treatise is pre- sented as an analysis of mind or self-hood — not in detail, but to the extent of fundamental traits only. Part I. is devoted to an analysis of Sensibility, as the basic element of mind, and whence is deduced sense causality as the most significant upshot. This upshot, as personating the basic principle of mind, is assumed to be the primary fact of mental philos- ophy ; and being such, is thenceforth employed as the axiom or dominating principle of inquiry. Part II. is devoted to an analysis of intelligence, the central problem of which is a solution of its apparent contradictions; and which, as just said, involves sooner or later a reference to every distinct- ive trait of mind. The first named — sense causality with its impli- cations — being pretty generally self-evident, will need no theorizing arguments for proof ; but only to be fairly presented by a common sense interpre- tation of practical facts. But the second — a solution of contradiction, which among other things requires an exposure of the illusions leading to contradic- tion — will prove the most difficult part of the in- quiry. This is much as to say, there is no trouble about the doctrine of Copernicus: it needs no ad- ditional proof. The trouble rather is, to expose the 14 THK self: what is it? illusion, whereby, on turning away from Coperni- cus, we still imagine the sun to rise and set. By the way, one or another illusion has obscured every step of our way so far. We cannot stop to- discuss them at this place. But in order to mitigate honest perplexity somewhat, as also the premature: disgust of those who may be inordinate zealots of intellect, a hint must be given just here upon the. chief one of these stumbling blocks. It is this: How can sense be called supreme, or how can it operate at all, without the aid of intelligence? Unity of mind, it is replied, will not allow sense- and intelligence to be two independent individuals^ they may be regarded in logical, but not in real' antithesis. All human activity manifests the twa as distinct, yet in perfect unity or concert of action j. one meanwhile always being dominant, and the; other subservient, hereby necessitating the infer- ence, that one is subject and the other a predicate. But since intelligence is always manifested in a. subservient relation, it must be assumed as a pre- dicate or endowment of sense, somewhat as a flame is of a burning body. Otherwise than this, no phase of human activity is intelligible. Responsibility for instance, always- implies the presence of intelligence; yet, though, always implied, intelligence is never explicitly rec- ognized as being responsible. Instead, sense and. INTRODUCTION 15 sense only is responsible. Hence, intelligence being always implied, yet sense only being responsible, sense must be self-endowed with intelligence. Otherwise, sense would be dependent on something other than itself; and in which case, this other something would be responsible instead of sense. The smart question, how can brilliant intelligence issue from blind sense, is quite away from the mark. We know nothing of essences ; and can only judge from phenomena. According to the latter, intelli- gence can only act after and in obedience to sense prompting ; and as a literal and undeniable fact, does sustain the relation of predicate or endowment to sense, in all its practical manifestations. There is no alternative: unless, may be, a theorizing analy- sis of essences may yet prove all practical facts to be utterly false. More of this, however, at the proper time and place. Only remember, that though sense and itelligence are of necessity distinct and opposite logically, they are in reality but two pha- ses of one and the same thing; sense being the thing or subject, with intelligence as its pre- dicate. Or thus, sense is cause, and intelligence is its instrument. Returning, all contradiction is brought about by illusion; and the prime illusion indicated above — the mistaking of intelligence for the supreme au- thority or Self, may be called the first and chief of i6 THE self: what is it? all. This first and chief is followed by an endless number and variety of others, to explain each of which, would be an endless work. Hence it may be added, that the culminating problem of this book, is to find one principle, whereby all contra- diction, sophistry, falsehood — the whole brood of make-believes, may be explained in one and the same process. An attempt at the same thing in the first edition, was not sufficiently clear. This was doubtless owing to the fact, that the exposition was given to the reader, precisely as it was wrought out by the au- thor : in other words, it was too abstract. The chief care in this edition has been to employ all the concreteness possible with such a problem. To this end, a series of illustrations are employ- ed, the first being the solar contradiction just al- luded to. In this instance, one witness asserts that the sun rises and sets; while the other asserts pre- cisely the reverse. Both assertions are true, accord- ing to their respective standpoints, though possi- tively contradictory. What is the fault, and how can it be consistently reconciled with the integrity of intelligence? The object is not to explain this one for its own sake ; but to deduce a general principle, which will explain all contradiction. The phenomena to be explained, are so vast and varied, that a principle INTRODUCTION 1 7 applicable to all, will at first seem vague, because of its generality. The solar will hence be followed by a number and variety of other illustrations, sufficient to give all the clearness desired by thought- ful readers. Without said principle — without understanding the contradictions of intelligence, no. proper analy- sis of intelligence is possible. Nor is it extrava- gant to say on the other hand, that to understand contradiction, is to see intelligence simplified an hundred-fold; insomuch, every one of normal com- mon sense, will feel himself at home in the study. And why not? Plainly, intelligence itself must be intelligible to common sense, else it can be no fit instrument of truth about other things. The scope of inquiry hinted at in the foregoing, does not lead to a remote or fruitless theorizing; but rather to the A, B, C, of all philosophical in- quiry; to those great primary principles underlying both practice and thought. Fjr instance, it will be seen as we proceed, that precisely the same class of illusions, which deny the Copernican philosophy, may be and constantly are urged against the existence of God, the immor- tality of mind, moral free agency, and indeed against all immaterial things. Nay, by like illusive means, the entire realm of intelligence itself, may be and constantly is virtually i8 THE self: what is it? [urned wrong end foremost. Thus, instead of one simple, universal and unchanging method of inquiry — suited to the infant and philosopher alike, we are deluded with a so-called induction, synthesis, or other like counterfeit, which results not only in mystification, but in practically reversing the one true method. " With the battle thus half won, and by the same illusive means, the principle of cause and effect is. also presently reversed. To reverse these two — the method of inquiry and the principle of cause and effect, virtually amounts to reversing the whole, world of thought; so that, instead of nature's own. order of proceeding from causes to effects and from wholes to parts, we now see like Leucippus that the total universe is a mere effect, produced by a com- bination of atoms as its cause. Then again, this combination of atoms, whereby parts produce wholes, and effects produce causes — what is it, or how can it end, except in the doc- trine of growth? This growth in turn, becomes so expansive and exuberant, as presently to cancel all just conceptions of Identity and Permanence; but without these two principles, we cannot conceive^ either of intelligence or rational existence. These for example, with an endless number of other illusive sophistries, are in the same category and may be exposed by one and the same process. INTRODUCTION I9 To realize such result will shield us from the din of much logical debauchery; will give a firm grasp upon the little we may happen to know — sufficient- ly at least to feel sure that there are such things as truth and reality; and hereby, bridge over the abyss of universal skepticism. Whether or not true, the evils of materialism are assumed to be worse now than ever before. Worse in this, that besides being as bad practically as ever before, they claim more loudly than hitherto, a high rational justification. More than ever before, the grossest phases of materialism are bois- terous in claiming scientific origin and sanction; so boisterous indeed, as to be overheard by the popu- lar ear. Hence, now perhaps more than ever before, the good of society requires a philosophy adapted to the popular ear. But here precisely has ever been a great trouble: though the popular ear is quick to hear any sophistry in proof of a favorite and vicious tendency, it yet becomes instantly deaf to any sober thought in opposition to said tendency. It is possible, however, that materialism has overshot its mark in the present case. It has man- aged, mainly by its scientific pretenses, to excite much popular interest in certain great problems; which latter however, can find no ample solution, except in the sphere of philosophy. Thus, with- 20 THE self: what IS IT? out so intending, materialism has perhaps opened up a way between philosophy and the popular ear. At any rate, the vital interests at stake, justify an attempt at its realization. In reference to the situation here indicated, this treatise was written. In addition, and in view of the great odds to be met in the undertaking, it is assumed as a serious possibility with regard to phi- losophy — as indeed with regard to many other things, that its chief enemy may perchance be one of its own household: viz., metaphysical rig-ma- role, tedious definitions, learned nomenclature, with other like cheap ritual. Fearing as much, such hin- drances will be avoided as fully as can be. And though such precaution will have drawbacks pecu- liar to itself, it is yet hoped, that the popular read- er and young student, may hereby be brought more directly face to face with that august something called Mind or Self. Full details in such an inquirj'', would require several volumes, and thus again balk the end in view. To avoid this, the great labor has been to condense; to give the most concise outline possible, without sacrificing intelligibility. Part I will be easy enough; but Part II cannot be got without some interest and thought. The first assumption of every inquiry is, the veracity of the inquiring intelligence; but this veracity is di- INTROOUCTION 21 rectly impeached by endless contradictions. These latter occur not only in the least questions, but perplex and tven deny the most momentous truths — implicitly deny ail truth. To explain the ground of .contradiciion, so as to vindicate the integrity of intelligence, to intelligence itself, and therewith get a valid standard for all intelligible truth, must be the first and most vital problem of intelligence. It is to prove that, which is the ground of proof; to measure that, which is the measure of all knowl- edge. Can such problems be mastered in a hasty and careless way, as one might read a novel or news- paper? Certainly not. Neither does this mean to say, that great sagacity is required for the task. Every normal mind has sagacity enough for all problems of interest to itself. Without such in- terest — without a desire to know, sagacity is vain and useless; with the desire, the way is open to any human knowledge ; in fact, the desire is the guar- antee of the sagacity. Those having an interest in the inquiries of Part 11 have nothing to fear; those having none, had better lay the book aside at once. The two editions are the same in essential re- spects; but superficially, this second is wholly new. The first edition was too abstract. This one may perhaps go to the other extreme. The only help for these and other short-comings, is the patience 22 THE self: WHAT IS IT? and charity of the reader. As for the rest, it is fully believed that this edition will be far more in- telligible and readable than the first. THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? PART I. SENSIBILITY. CHAPTER 1. CAUSALITY — A PREDICATE OF SENSIBILITY. We naturally enough regard the human mind as consisting of two distinct spheres: viz., Thinking and Feeling. The thinking sphere is variously •called intelligence, intellect, thought, brain, and so forth, according to the occasion. The feeling sphere is called sensibility, heart, will, desire, and so forth. The antithesis between thinking and feeling is logical, more than real, as will be seen later on. For present purposes, it is hard to find two anti- thetical terms, which will distinguish properly be- tween thinking and feeling. To avoid needless •debate, let us adopt the one word intelligence to represent the thinking, and the one word sensibility to represent the feeling trait of the mind. 23 24 THE self: what is it? Henceforth these two words will be used generic- ally; intelligence, to represent all the thinking or cognitive powers; and sensiblity, to represent all appetites, desires, emotions, affections, or other feeling powers of mind. The latter especially must be sharply noted; for in most writings of the kind^ the word sensibility is restricted to the five sen- ses, while as here used, it personates the entire realm of feeling or sense. It is also well to note, that with few exceptions^ Vi^hich will be specified, the word mind will also be used in its full- import, including God, spirit, soul — everything not included in the word matter. Thus we set out on the two general assumptions r First, that total existence presents two phases — mind and matter; and secondly, that mind, the special topic of this treatise, also presents twa phases — sensibility and intelligence. The emphasis here put upon the two words sen- sibility and intelligence, is to pave the way to the following propositions: The conceptions (i) Cause, (2) End, (3) Responsibility, (4) Intelligence, and (5). Selfhood are each and all grounded in sensibility. All together, the five propositions virtually affirm that sensibility is the very essence of mind; for being subtracted, nothing of any worth remains tO' the latter. We can properly call that essence only, which. CAUSALITY A PREDICATE OF SENSIBILITY 25 seems to be the permanent ground or subject of certain predicates. It is common to say, that we know nothing of essence /^r se; can know nothing but the facts of phenomena. So that, in saying that sensibility is the essence of mind, is only meant, that the traits just named as being predi- cable of sensibility, pretty well exhaust our concep- tion of mind. It is moreover well to. note here in the outset, that one great trouble will burden us all the way through this Part I. No one argument in the usual sense will occur in the entire book; instead, only enough exposition to get the given proposition fairly in view, and then demonstration by self-evi- dent facts. But despite such facts, illusions will stand ready to contradict at every crook or turn. What is to be done? We must ignore contradic- tions until Part II, when their exposure will be the special work. But why not expose them first? Be- cause contradiction — materialism, is simply inexpli- cable without a previous analysis of sensibility as its source. It is much easier for instance, to prove the Coper- nican doctrine than to disprove the illusions which contradict it; indeed, the latter is simply impossi- ble, without the former; although, in the former, as in the present case, illusions act as a contrary wind and tide from first to last. 26 THK self: what is it? Now to the first proposition, viz: Causalitj' is grounded in sensibility. Human causality — which is the kind more especially in question, is of course assumed to be of a secondary or derived kind, though none th« less valid on that account for hu man purposes. That man is endowed with causality, is clearly implied in moral responsibility. Respon- sibility implies that the agent so endowed has the power to act or not act at discretion, but a power to act or not act at discretion presupposes causality in the agent who can so act. Causality is thus a necessary implication of re- sponsibility. But does not responsibility itself need proof? Certainly not. It is assumed in all our possible theories and conventionalities; in so much, it cannot even be debated without meanwhile assuming it, just as would be the case in debating the reality of existence. But the causality implied in responsibility, is of a moral kind: is there no other phase of causalitj^ than the moral? Plainly enough. The moral phase ought to control all human conduct ; instead, it is often opposed and even wholly overthrown. Now, this rebellious element must also be endowed at least with causality, else it could not thus baulk the moral authority. In short, the human mind is liberally endowed •with causality. This brings us to the immediate in- CAUSALITY — A PREDICATE OF SENSIBILITY 27 quiry of the chapter: Where is this causality grounded — in sensibility or in intelligence? As usually conceived of, simple energy, power, force, or whatever else you choose to call it, must be positively passive, as contrasted with causality. Literal energy can be nothing but itself — simple energy, and no more. It cannot be both itself and meanwhile something else exterior to itself; which prompts itself to activity. Indeed, in itself it is nothing; it does not exist nor can it be conceived of, except as a predicate of causality. Causality of necessity precedes and includes it, just as cause precedes and includes effect. So then, besides simple energy in its common import, causality also implies a self-motive energy — an originating and secondary energy both in one. Its activity is self-prompting, and its self-prompt- ing is an activity in one identical and spontaneous act. Whether or not possible to define it more sharp- ly; or whether it imply anything more, this at least suffices as a test for present purposes. With this test it hazards nothing to say, that nowhere in the realm of human thought can we find any concrete illustration of causality, except in the sphere of sensibility. But the word sensibility is too generic and vague, for the precise point in question; and since the 28 THE self: what is it? word desire, more fitly perhaps than any other one, characterizes all sensibility and is meanwhile pecu- liarly suited for the precise point in hand, let it be used just here instead of sensibility, to personate the feeling sphere of mind. Now then, we cannot define causality, without meanwhile defining desire; nor define desire, with- out also defining causality. This difference only: causality is the name of an abstraction ; desire is the concrete manifestation of that abstraction. Desire is something which acts in itself, acts for , itself, and prompts itself to action. It equally im- plies activity, act, actor, all in one — a trinity in unity. This by the way, is the earliest glimpse of the trinal principle; which, being a rudimental eleriient of sensibility, will be seen by and by as an indispensable necessity to intelligence, as man- ifested irr the three fundamental principles of logic, another phase of the same thing. The very existence of desire, and its self-motive activity, are identical : that is, it can neither exist, nor be conceived of, except as a self-mover; and as such, is the only concrete illustration of the something called causality. According to human intelligence, the facts here seen, must be as true respecting God, as they are of man. Man cannot act voluntarily without some motive, much less God ; and the said motive caa CAUSALITY — A PREDICATE OF SENSIBILITY 29 only be some desire or prompting of sensibility. This simply means that neither man nor God could act, without some desired end in view. With God as with man, intelligence can only be a passive instrument for realizing the promptings of sensibil- ity. Divine Sensibility only, could be the primal cause of the universe, and divine intelligence the instrument thereof. Throughout the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures, God always acts from love, mercy, indignation, or other sensibility: the in- stances are too numerous to mention. Plato regarded self-motion as the most decisive trait of the primal Cause, though he did not refer self-motion in so many words to sensibility. How- ever, he did so implicitly; for besides regarding the One and the Good as the primal Cause, intel- lect is represented as coming later; so that, the One and the Good must consist of sensibility, un- less it be assumed that the mind principle contains some essential element other than sensibility and intelligence. It must be admitted however, that elsewhere and in other connections, his doctrine seemed the reverse of this. There is a remarkable passage in one of the Vedas, which concurs fully with the view herein taken : "The One lay void, wrapped in nothingness. It (the One) was developed by the power of fervor: desire first arose in it, which was the primal germ 30 THE self: what is it? of mind; sages searching in their intellect, have discovered in their heart, the bond which connects entity with non-entity." As to other and later authorities, none are re- membered who made inquiry into this specific ques- tion. The Germans wrote much about causality, spontaneous activity and so forth, but did not refer it specificall)', either to sensibility or to intelli- gence. By implications, they might be claimed on either side; yet, the drift of their writings was opposed to the view here taken. The truth is, not having examined the precise question, they cannot be justly quoted as being either pro or con. Returning to the question, it follows that each individual sense is a distinct causal activity in it- self — is a literal self-mover; while all the senses to- gether represent the sum total of human causality. It also follows, that dumb brutes are likewise so endowed, else they would be incapable of sponta- neous activity. Indeed, causality may be granted to vegetation — to all modes of life, in so far at least as such life may imply the principle of de- sire. By the way, can yital force be better defined than to call it a desire for existence? Of course, causality, free causality, moral quality and so forth, are distinct things. Because all de- sire is causal, it does not follow that it is free and. morally endowed. Several problems of interest here suggested are irrelevant to our question. CAUSALITY — A PREDICATE OF SENSIBILITY 3 1 Self motion is but another name for causality: then the question is, except desire, what else is so endowed? Positively nothing conceivable. Even allowing gravitation or other like force to be a dis- tinct reality in itself, yet clearly it cannot act until something exterior to itself, first excites and calls out its activity. Whereas, desire, though often excited by exterior objects is characterized as act- ing in and of itself, independently of all foreign in- fluence. All desire — as that of hunger, thirst, avarice, van- ity, love, ambition, and so forth, can, and con- stantly does act prior to and independently of a specific exterior object. Our entire life struggle indeed, might be summed up as one of indefinite desire; desire for something which perhaps is never seen, nor realized, nor even conceived of distinct- ly. In thus acting in and of itself, and independ- ently of exterior objects, desire is essentially causal, contrasted with which, all other known forces and things, can only be called instruments. But this is not one half. Instead of being moved by exterior objects only, desire is never. at itself — is never wrought up to its highest pitch, except by the want, the absence, or may be, by the non-ex- istence of some object. This shows not only how desire is causal in the common meaning, but how it mounts up to creative energy. That is, desire 32 THE self: what is it? wants a given object; but the object does not exist; whereupon it creates said object. The desire for, yet the absence or non-existence of the universe, is the only intelligible mainspring of its creation. Clearly, all outward activity is but the manifesta- tion of inward desire ; without this fountainhead of energy, the universe would be stone dead. Turning about now, it is hard to see how intel- ligence can put in a claim for causality. Intelligence is but intelligence — pure cognition or knowing. It has no emotion, no desire; and being passionless, must also be motiveless; and being motiveless, must be as passive per se as a marble statue. This is not denying that it manifests activity in its varied processes. But this is not the question: instead, it is whether said activity is causal or in- strumental, original or mechanical. It will be asked. Could the universe be created by desire without intelligence? This thoughtless and ever-recurring question always goes on the mistaken assumption, that intelligence is afai; off and independent of desire. Whereas, desire as the cause of all things, must be the cause of intelli- gence also. Intelligence as one of its predicates or properties is implied in all its activities, just as light is always implied by the lamp. These reflections are an attempt to get the ques- tion fairly in. view. A question of such moment, CAUSAIJTY — A PREDICATE OF SENSIBILITY 33 must not only have abstract plausibility, but empiri- cal demonstration, which will be found in the next chapter. CHAPTER II. THE SAME CONTINUED. In place of the long word sensibility, let the short word sense be used hereafter, to represent all phenom- ena of feeling; remembering especially, never in anjr case to restrict it to a five sense limitation. Of course, intelligence is present and takes part ia all human activity; but it is present as a subordinate instrument only, and never as a causal authority. Here precisely is the trouble with the practical aspect of the question, viz., The failure to distinguish sharp- ly between the two conceptions, causality and instru- mentality. Take away the exterior object which excites the compass needle, and it is dead. Why? Simply be- cause the. needle is not a causal, but only an instru- mental power. Causal power on the contrary, works in, and of, and for itself, independently of foreign aid, as was seen of desire. The two conceptions, cause- and instrument, are as wide apart as can be, which must be kept constantly in mind, in a practical study of this question. Though a pure instrument, the needle controls the 34 THE SAME CONTINUED 35 mariner at sea; and so likewise do the maps, charts, and other like guides employed in the voyage. Back of these again, is intelligence, which employs said guides as its instruments. Here stopping short, in- teUigence seems to be the primary cause. But look- ing still back of intelligence, it is undeniable that a desire for gain, pleasure, renown, or other like sense impulse, is the prime motive cause of the voyage. Hence, compass, map, chart, intelligence — all alike are but simple instruments, employed to serve the de- sires of sense as the prime cause. The stone or wooden house is but a symbol of th& real and original house, presented by the architect's-, design, and would be impossible without said design.. But is this all? Evidently, the design itself — a device of intelligence, would in turn be equally impossible, without some antecedent need, desire, or other like sense demand, as the prime cause. Illustrations like these, and all pointing to one and the same truth, are simply infinite. What use of more? It is a much easier and shorter cut to look for one single, voluntary human action, which is not trace' able back to a sense motive as its mainspring. In every case, without exception, sense motive will be seen as such mainspring or cauSe, while the devices of intelligence with like certainty, will be seen as passive instruments. So very passive indeed, that in- telligence is just as ready to go out for high-way rob- 36 THE self: what is it? bery, as for purposes of philanthropy. Yes, intelli- gence is just as ready, just as willing, just as expert, in serving the purposes of the robber, as those of the philanthropist. Without the least exception, it pass- ively obeys whatever may happen to be the strongest sense impulse at the given time. The causality of sense and the instrumentality of intelligence are so evident, that anything further would seem even absurd. But on the other "hand, the question is so beset with illusion, it is well to study it a little further; for on turning away from Copernicus, we instantly see the sun rising and setting as usual. Sense causality is not only the mainspring of all in- dividual activity, but that of society also in the aggre- gate. Take, for instance, the conception commerce — the complex and varied activities of the commercial world. They may be all summed up in the two words, demand and supply. What is demand but the wants — the desires of sense; and what is supply but a response to said demand, prompted by the same sense desires, that prompted the demand? Some persons claim to love and seek knowledge for its own sake; and think this, at least, an excep- tion, in which sense has no share. But to confess to seeking a thing for the love of it, is to yield the point in question, love being one of the chief of the senses. A very little reflection wiil show that the business man, the scientist, the theologian, the THE SAME CONTINUED 37 artist, the philosopher, the pedant, the real stu- dent, all alike seek knowledge as an instrument for realizing their r-s,)ertive sense demands. There is and there can be no txcL^lion : in every case, sense is both the sun and moon which control all the ebbs and flows of human activity. But says one, by means of reflection, intelligence sometimes reverses the destiny of a man — the des- tiny even of a nation. True enough; so also might a straw or any other trifle ; but such influence would be instrumental and not causal after all. This ob- jection forgets that reflection itself is but an instru- ment of sense at the' start : that is, earnest and use- ful reflection never did and never can occur except at the bidding of sense. In other words still, wher- ever sense may be found, and in whatever it may be interested, there precisely, and there only, will re- flection be found following like a shadow. To know the sense aspirations of a man, is to know the scope of his reflections in advance : without be- ing told, we know already in advance, that the miser is reflecting on money getting; and so of every other man, according to his ruling sense or senses, showing that reflection itself is but an instru- ment — a servant of sense. But the previous chapter and this one so far, are mainly intended to get the question fairly in view. If the various facts employed in this presentation 38 THE self: what IS IT? do not suffice as ample demonstration, then take this summary view: On the one hand, select any act, of any man — whether of a virtuous or vicious man, whether of a wise man or simpleton ; and then, on the other hand, send any man — whether virtuous or vicious, wise or simple, to find the main- spring of the given action: would not the latter man — without any thought, but led by infallible instinct, go straight to sense motives, in order to find the desired mainspring? Moreover, would not any moral, civil, social, religious, political, or other tribunal, either acquit or condemn in the given case, accordingly as the said action might have originated from a good or bad sense impulse? As result, we have universal usage, instinct and common sense to prove, not onlj' that sense and sense only, is causal, but also that sense and sense only is responsible, thus proving two of the five propositions at one stroke. Demonstration stronger and plainer than this is inconceivable. What more? Only this: Despite the demonstra- tion, I am quite positive that while other people may be controlled by sense impulse, I am not: my conduct is governed by reason — calm, sober reason. This at once ends all debate. It not only demon- strates sense causality, but exposes the illusion which contradicts it. Of course, if everybody else THE SAME CONTIXUED 39 is governed by sense, then so am I also; otherwise and of necessity, either I am superhuman, else labor- ing under an illusion. Which of the two is most likely? Instead of seeing the plain truth, each one of us, on the contrary, imagines himself to be duly sober, and hence can well enough see everybody «lse as drunk; this too, without seeing that every one else is in the same ridiculous muddle with him- self — ^that is, imagines one thing of himself and quite another thing of other people. As result, ■every one testifies that sense causality is universal, ■with one exception only; but on comparing wit- nesses, no two agree as to the identity of this one exception, and hence, the exception must be an il- lusion. This very subtle, this first and chief materialistic illusion as hinted in the Introduction, is partially ex- plicable in this way. Intelligence is constantly oc- cupied in devising ways and means for meeting the demands of sense. Said devices sometimes in- "volve so much, and require so much time and labor, that they eclipse the original sense motive; and lience, instead of seeing them as instruments only, ■we presently see them as the mainspring — as -the all of the given enterprise. But still nearer the question, when the action is of a kind which needs vindication from censure, we are more apt to refer said action' to rational designs, 40 THE self: what is it? which are not responsible, than to confess the ugly sense motive, which, as the real mainspring, is re- sponsible. In thus trying to deceive others, we just as often deceive ourselves; and by the habit, become confirmed in seeing intelligence as the main- spring of our own conduct, though not that of other people. It may be added as still nearer the mark, that the same phase of intelligence, which, transcending its legitimate sphere, causes contradiction respect- ing the solar problem; the same percisely, and by virtue of the same incompetency, also causes con- tradiction in the present question. But this is not the place for explaining contradic- tions. This one especially,' the first and chief of: all, cannot be understood at this stage of the in- quiry. It is only glimpsed at now, in order to- show, that while the demonstration of sense caus- ality is positively invincible, there is, on the other hand, no vestige of argument against it, except this- infatuated illusion: as for myself, I am governed by reason and calm reflection. Two chapters have been given to sense causality,, and well enough too; foT the acute reader can al- ready see, that sense causality being true, the re- maining four propositions necessarily follow. Being; the causal element, it of necessity includes every other vital element of mind. The four remaining THE SAME CONTINUED 4I propositions will be sufficiently demonstrated on be- ing fairly stated. The one which derives intelli- gence from sense, though having stronger and more abundant proof than the other three, is also more beset with illusion, and will hence require more attention. CHAPTER III. THE IMPLICATIONS OF END OF EXISTENCE — PREDICATES OF SENSIBILITY. It is not easy to state this second proposition in a few plain words suitable for the caption of a chap- ter. The meaning is not difficult, however. It simply assumes, in the first place, that all human aspiration looks to some culminating good, as its final end; and in the next place, that said end is predicable of sense. What is the. upshot of existence — what its high- est end, as looked at from a human standpoint? Kant tells us that it is happiness; but makes haste to qualify the statement by saying, we must not seek happiness directly, nor allow it to be a rule of con- duct. Rather, we must seek to become worthy of happiness; must do rightly for right's own sake, and hereby happiness will come without the seeking. This view regards happiness as a result, and not as the aim or end of a proper life. From a like standpoint, Carlyle tells us of a some- thing above happiness, which he calls blessedness. 43 THE IMPLICATIONS OF END OF EXISTENCE 43 What he precisely means by blessedness may be un- certain, though doubtless his meaning is not far off from that of Kant. That the latter has not placed the mark too high is obvious. A good man will not ■only sell present happiness, but even life itself for the sake of integrity and honor, thus showing that -he values honor above happiness and life together. But the point is, not to find out the precise some- thing which is the end of existence, so much as to iind out its predication — whether in sense or in in- telligence. Perhaps all will admit, that some one ■or other of these — happiness, moral worth, blessed- "ness, or the like is the end in question. Very well : is that special something predicable of sensibility or intelligence? Now no matter which is selected, whether hap- piness, moral worth, or other reasonable one, it will turn out in any event, that the one so selected, is but another name for some state, mode, or condi- tion of sense. This is but saying again, that hap- piness, moral worth, or otherwise, are things which represent certain phases of sense only, and not those of intelligence: they are predicates of' feeling and not of thinking ; we can only feel, not think hap- piness. ^ Of course, happiness, moral worth, and so forth, imply more or less intelligence. This is true only in a relative, not in an essential sense. As seen in 44 THE self: what is it? the last chapter, intelligence is but an instrument, relatively to a cause; and so it can only be a means, relatively to an end. That is to say, the conceptions cause and end are correlates: we cannot separate cause from its correlate end; nor end from its correlate cause. They are little else than different aspects of the same thing. This is illustrated by the conception commerce, which like human existence, implies a correlated cause and end. Thus, the cause (demand) and the end (supply) are identical with this exception: cause (demand) is the desire for, while end (supplyj is the realization of the object desired. But while cause and end as correlates, are much the same, they differ essentially from the concep- tions instrument and means ; fully as much as com- merce differs from railway; commerce is a thing ia and for itself, while railway is but its tool. So in- telligence in this instance is but a tool, called in- strument relatively to cause, and means relatively to end. Hence, whether as independent, or as an attribute of sense, it can in no event be called an essential factor in the conception, end of existence. Some people admire intelligence so extravagantly, that they think the sole business of future existence will be to cultivate the intellect and get knowledge. Granted; but where unto, except for the happiness THE IMPLICATIONS OF END OF EXISTENCE 43 resulting therefrom? But intellect cannot /i?^/ hap- piness; so that, even in heaven, it can only be an instrument or means, and neither a cause nor an end. Hence on the other hand, happiness or what- ever we choose to call the culminating end of exist- ence, can only be properly grounded in sense. Without a correlated cause and end — without a cause to act, and an end as an outcome of the ac- tivity, there would be no need nor room for respon- sibility, as the next essential trait of human charac- ter. Besides, the two conceptions, cause and end, will prove indispensable to the final make-up of the Self; and hence, are emphasized here, as the first suitable opportunity.. CHAPTER IV. RESPONSIBILITY — A PREDICATE OF SENSIBILITY. It was said at the start that responsibility, beings an assumption of universal theory and usage, must always be taken for granted. Yet, there are those who challenge this universal verdict, and hint that responsibility may possibly be a dream of fancy. To allow a mistake about that, which is the foun- dation of all human conventionality, not only im- plies the rottenness of that foundation, but the utterinvalidity of mind. None but philosophical outlaws could have temerity enough to hint such a doubt. Responsibility must be absolutely granted ; for if it be doubtful, then everything is doubtful and all debate is sheer folly. Being granted, the ques- tion of the chapter is, where is it grounded, im sense, or in intelligence? As already seen, univer- sal instinct and usage refer it to sense. Moreover,, in always presupposing causality, it must with th& latter also be grounded in sense. First, to be responsible, the agent must be able: 46 RESPONSIBILITY — A PREDICATE OF SENSIBILITY 47 to act in and of itself; and such abilitj^ plainly pre- supposes causality. Next, besides acting in and of itself, it must be able to act or not to act at option — it must be freej which free activity again presupposes causality. Next again, responsibility implies a moral en- dowment — an ability to distinguish between moral right and wrong. But such ability would be both useless and meaningless, except as the endowment of a free causal agent. So that, the three vital traits of responsibility, in presupposing causality, must along with the latter, be grounded in sense. Sense only can be morally praiseworthy or blameworthy. Who ever heard, or who can even conceive of an intellectual immorality — an intellec- tual crime? Why not? Plainly because, intellect, in not having either of the three vital traits — caus- ality, free causality, moral quality — cannot be re- sponsible any more than a machine. We blame sense and sense only, for all vice ; in- somuch, and to say nothing of other people, we even loathe our own senses for leading us into vicious ways. We only laugh at or pity the failings of intellect; but despise those of sense. Instinct thus prompts us; and in so doing, it points infal- libly to sense as the real and only responsible agent. But why not the ever-recurring objection just 48 THE self: what IS IT? here, that has been met all along at every turn? viz., Responsibility implies intelligence; else how could it distinguish between moral right and wrong? Of course, responsibility implies intelligence. We do not censure stones and stumps, if for nothing else, because they have no intelligence. But what of this? It only proves that intelligence itself is an impli- cation of sense. How? Because, though clearly implied in every act of responsibility, it is yet wholly irresponsible itself; and hence, it can only be an endowment — a passive instrument of sense, which latter, beyond dispute, is the only responsi- ble agent. Always present, but always ignored; at this rate, it can only be a servant of the real re- sponsible agent. This undeniable fact, while pertinent just here as resulting from the above reflections, amounts to a positive demonstration of the next coming propo- sition: Intelligence is a predicate of sense. Study this one fact carefully, and there will be but little need of the abundant proof presented in the next chapter. CHAPTER V. INTELLIGENCE — A PREDICATE OF SENSIBILITY. This proposition is proven by the fact just pointed out above: indeed, it had already been proven half a dozen times, by implication at least. But it is so beset with illusion as to require other and more direct proof. The facts which might be so employed, if fully set forth, would fill several volumes. The trouble is to condense, to reduce the more vital facts to one chapter. Perhaps nine-tenths of our debates are about words, or other trifling ritual. Let the like be avoided in the present case. No sane philosophy can ever mount above plain, sturdy common sense. Guided by the latter, let the chapter be made the means of getting a clear view of the real question. With such view, with prejudice, illusion and other ^like obscurities out of the way, the truth will be plain enough. In the first place, the proposition affirms that in- telligence is a predicate of sense. This does not mean that it is identical with, or is manufactured by sense; but springs forth from sense somewhat 49 50 THE self: what is it? as a flame springs forth from a burning body. Moreover, in springing from sense, it never be- comes independent of sense; but ever continues in the relation of a passive instrument for subserving sense demands. Sense causality and responsibility, which admit of no denial, imply all and evei* more, than is here affirmed of the relations between sense and intelligence. On the contraryj it is assumed, not specifically affirmed but vaguely assumed, that a sort of intel- lectual hierarchy, consisting of various purely in- tellectual faculties, distinct from and above sense, supervise and control human conduct. In other words, our proposition regards all intel- ligence as springing from and dependent upon sense — not the five senses only, but all the senses; and hence, that the various senses are the only distinct, individual faculties of intelligence. Whereas, the opposite opinion is that intelligence springs from purely intellectual faculties, which latter, implic- itly at least, are distinct from and above sense. Such intelligence, being distinct from and above sense, virtually denies sense causality and respond sibility. But no matter. With this dim glimpse at the start, the question will grow clearer as we proceed. The most aston- ishing thing is, that no valid fact or argument is to be found, either against our proposition, or in INTELLIGENCE — A PREDICATE OF SENSIBILITY 5I proof of an intellectual hierarchy. The one is de- nied and the other affirmed by assumptions only. Being challenged, these assumptions would reply about this way: "How is it possible for blind sense to be the source of intelligence?" Though but an expression of prejudice, such re- ply implies two plain assumptions. First, it tacitly assumes to know, what ought to be the pre requi- sites of a faculty or attribute of mind, in order to be fitly prepared for receiving and exercising intelli- gence : not blind senses certainly, but pure intel- lectual faculties. And why? We know nothing of the essence of either sense or intelligence, and just as little about the essential fitness of this or that faculty, for the exercise of intelligence. We can only judge by facts of phenomena, or in their absence, by the common sense relations of things. In respect of essence, we cannot positively say, that even a brick-bat is unfitted for exercising intelligence ; but in respect of facts and fitness of things, we can. Why then is a brick-bat not endowed with intel- ligence? Among many reasons, perhaps the plain- est and shortest would be another question : Why ought a brick bat or any thing else to be so en- dowed? Rather, what is the need or purpose of intelligence at all, except for something which is a thing in and for itself? — a thing which includes 52 THE self: what is it? both cause and end in itself, and which hence has needs and wants to be supplied? Except sense, nothing else is a thing in and for itself; while each individual sense has a little world of wants to be supplied. On the other hand^ ex- cept intelligence — which has no desires of its own, nothing else can devise ways and means for meeting the demands of sense. This relation between the two, will not allow intelligence to be afar off nor superior to sense; but instead, requires it to be near at hand and subordinate to sense; requires it to serve the purposes of sense, somewhaf as the light of the fire-fly is intended to light up the way for the fire-fly, and not to shine simply for its own glory. Of course, endless volumes have been written on this question; not to prove, but to explain and arrange an already assumed hierarchy of ' intellec- tual faculties. It suffices to say just here, that all the phenomena of the case, are far more explicable by other self-evident means. It will finally be seen in fact, that there is neither need, nor any logical standing-room, for such faculties in the mental economy. But in the second place, the objection assumes that sense is but blind feeling. Neither is there any vestige of proof for this: it results chiefly from metaphysical speculation. In hair-splitting debates about sensation and perception, the former is called INTELLIGENCE A PREDICATE OF SENSIBILITY 53 blind by way of distinction between the two. Once so started, it is presently assumed as a self-evident fact, though having no pretense of proof. But observe, the question is not, that pure feel- ing is identical witli pure intelligence, but rather, that intelligence is grounded in and springs forth from sense. This latter, which is the real ques- tion, is confirmed by the same wise authority which had just assumed sense to be blind; for along with this assumption, tney also hold that sensation al- ways precedes and is positively indispensable to perception: in fact, they often unwittingly put sensation and perception in the relation of cause and effect, and which is going beyond our proposi- tion. Moreover, on turning away from their artificial hobbies, these same high authorities, presently fall into the natural usage of employing the word sense as an equivalent of intelligence. Thus : a man of sense, superior sense, sound sense, moi'&.l sense, common sense, and so on. What does this mean? Usage so common and general as this, points direct- ly to instinct as its source. As such, it must be decisive on the question, unless it can be traced to an origin other than instinct; for instinct after all, is the truest philosopher. In the absence of proof on the one side, let us turn to that of the other. It is admitted on all 54 THE sklf: what is it? hands, that intelligence first dawns forth from sense. But this is not one half; for though admitting that intelligence first dawns forth from sense, yet it is then carelessly assumed that being thus once risen, it mounts above and independent of sense. This too in the teeth of the other and equally universal ad- mission, that all the operations of intelligence —all knowledge — must be counted as so much irrespon- sible theorizing, until verified by a sense test. What? Even so; intelligence first dawns forth from blind sense, and ever after continues under its blind cen- sorship — a blind judge, who is yet the sole and high- est authority respecting all knowledge. It is common, especially with materialists, to say, I believe nothing contrary to my five senses. Many systems of philosophy explicitly, and quite all im- plicitly, go on the assumption, that the five senses are the sole test of all knowledge. This treatise holds to tJie sense test also; but instead of five only, it includes all the senses. This view, as will be seen later, is the only way to explain the contradictions and obscurities attaching to this quite complex ques- tion. However, these reflections open the way for a still nearer approach to the question. On the one hand, they forbid a real and sharp antithesis between sense and intelligence; on the other, they justify us in conceiving of intelligence as an emanation INTELLIGENCE — A PREDICATE OF SENSIBILITY 55 from sense — as the outstretched arm of sense, reach- ing out fpr jts desired objects. The relation be- tween the two, is perhaps still better illustrated, by the relation between a flame and burning body. Now then, ignoring outside hear-say on the ques- tion, and avoiding all needless abstraction, let us try for a common sense view, a practical view at the very fountain head. Every man's common sense ought to assert its own authority, especially upon a question so plain and yet so momentous philosoph- ically as this. Take for example, that trite and most contracted of all senses, commonly called the palate, which judges of sweet, acid, bitter etc. This is only a sense — a blind sense or feeling as we say; yet it perceives, distinguishes, and infers, respecting sweet, acid, etc. But perception, distinction and inference are the three essential elements of intelli- gence. Let us see: we cannot identify or perceive any special object, without distinguishing it from other objects; so that perception is clearly impossible without distinction. Meanwhile, we cannot distin- guish without inference; that is, without infering the given object to be what it is, and not some- thing else. Thirdly, we cannot infer without an antecedent perception and distinction — without something to infer about. 56 THE self: what is it? Now, the all-important point to be noted here, is this: Perception, distinction and inference, though three, are one and inseparable. Neither one can act, neither one can exist, or be conceived of, with out the other two. If this be doubted, then read the last paragraph again and study it well. These three in one, are a trinity in unity prin- ciple, and are substantially the same with the three, fundamental principles of logic — Identity, Oppo- sition, and Ground. They hence and also constitute the one, sole, un- changing method of inquiry — common to infant and philosopher alike, and which may be called analysis or any name you choose. It will be seen in Part II, that induction, synthesis, and other so called, methods of inquiry, are illusions re&ulting mainly from confounding the inquiring method with the ob- ject inquired about. But it is obvious to common sense here and now, that these so-called methods themselves — that all conceivable inquiry — must of necessity begin, continue and end with these three activities, perception, distinction and inference. In- deed, to be conscious, to reason, to know, to think, to remember, to imagine — all cognitive activity, include perception, distinction, and inference, and would be impossible without them. But remember above all, that these three are one and inseparable.. Now • returning, it follows of necessity, if the INTELLIGENCE — A PREDICATE OF SENSIBILITV 57 palate and the palate only, can perceive sweet and acid, then the palate and the palate only, can dis- tinguish and infer — can know anything about them per se. In such obvious case, where is the need, the room, or the possibility for a so-called intel- lectual faculty to aid the palate in its special func- tions. The perception of sweet is a feeling, and unless your intellectual faculty can feel, it could know nothing m the case. To allow it to feel on the other hand, is to make it a sense, and herewith the question is settled. It is hence undeniable, that the palate is the supreme authority — the sole philos- opher in its own sphere, and neither needs nor can be taught by any other faculty. The palate, though the sole yet sufficient author- ity in its own sphere, is withal the most contracted of all the senses. Beginning with it at zero, we may rise step by step to the highest, and find the same prime facts respecting each and all. Each one has its own specific functions, with an intelligence sufficient for and peculiar to said functions; so that, while each may aid another indirectly, no one can either loan or borrow, in essential respects. Take vision, in the next place. Vision and vision only can perceive colors; and hence, it and it only can distinguish and infer respecting colors — can know and reason about them. The zealot for intellect fails just here; vision he .S8 THE self: what is it? thinks, first perceives color and then by some hook or crook, turns it over to intellect for further ex- amination. He forgets that the process is but one; that if vision only can perceive color, then it only can distinguish and infer in the case. On the other hand, that if intellect cannot perceive colors, so neither can it distinguish or infer respecting them. This does not mean, that vision knows everything about the given colored object. The object may present other traits wholly incognizable to vision. Though vision only can perceive the color of the ca- nary birdjhearing only can perceive its song. Though 'each may aid the other indirectly — as hearing may aid vision in locating a sounding object, yet neith- •er one can aid the other in essential functions. Each sense has its specific sphere and must be the su- ■ preme authority in that sphere. If any one should be incapable in its special work and need aid from another, then it would be a failure, and ought to be wholly superseded by that other. This is enough about the five senses. Except their varying purposes- and functions, the general facts are much the same in each case. Are these all? But these five can only know matter and its implications. Is there nothing for us to know, ex- cept matter? — no God, mind, knowledge, justice, truth, beauty, and other like immaterial objects? If there be such objects, they cannot be known until INTELLIGENCE A PREDICATE OF SENSIBILITY 59 perceived ; and they cannot be perceived except by a corre'sponding sense; as color by vision, or sweet by the palate. Except the illusions which lead us to see intelli- gence as causal and responsible, perhaps the most astonishing are those which restrict perception to the five senses. Because these five employ phys- ical organs, in order to perceive physical objects, all other senses not so endowed, are assumed to be blind. This is about equal to saying, specta- •cles are indispensable to vision and everybody is blind who does not use them. In strange contrast with this proofless assump- tion, is the common and intuitively recognized fact, that the esthetic sense commonly called taste, is perceptive and intelligent to a most brilliant de- gree. Taste is a sense ; a sense without physical organs; and yet, despite its blindness, it is the sole authority in the vast realm of the beautiful. Among other things, this realm includes poetry, oratory, sculpture, painting, music, architecture, and what not — all under the jurisdiction of blind taste. Of course, most phases of the beautiful re- quire physical organs and objects in order to their concrete manifestations. It could not be otherwise in view of our dual nature. But still, the very high- est activities of taste, are precisely those in which physical organs and objects are wholly excluded. 6o THE self: what is it? viz., In its primary perceptions and designs of the beautiful. Concrete manifestations by the -aid of physical means, are only awkward symbols of these primary designs; and which, as the original and real, are pure mental products, without any physi- cal adjuncts. Taste, beyond all doubt, though destitute of phys- ical organs, can perceive its immaterial objects: yea, can perceive them with even more certainty, pre- cision, and vivacity, than the materialist can per- ceive a house across the street. Every artist at least, will confirm this. Now then, taste is a sense; it has no physical organs; yet, it is perceptive to a most brilliant degree, £ind is withal, the sole dictator in the vast realm of the beautiful. But despite the vastness of this realm, where is the need, the room, or the possibility of an outside intellectual faculty, to give aid to taste in its specific functions? No more need, room, or possibility, than in the case of the palate or vision. Next, glance at the moral sense, which is certainly the highest and most signicafint of all. Though destitute of physical oragns, this sense and. this only, can preceive moral right and wrong. But moral right and wrong include the great principles of truth, justice, equity, etc. Then again, truth, jus- tice, equity, etc., are the fundamental elements of all INTELLIGENCE — A PREDICATE OF SENSIBILITY 6l our moral, social, religious, civil, political, and oth- er economies. So then, if the moral sense only, can perceive moral right and wrong, it and it only can distinguish and infer — can know or reason about right and wrong, as well as about their varied and nu- merous implications. At this rate, the moral sense is the only legitimate moralist, priest, judge, states- man, philosopher, etc. And at this rate again, what becomes of our in- tellectual-utility doctrines? To exclude a host of other facts, if even the palate is independent of in- tellectual aid, much more so ought the moral sense to be, since its functions involve our highest and most vital interests. The moral sense is a feeling — a feeling already endowed with all needed intelli- gence, just as the palate or vision, and unless the intellectual faculty coming to its aid, be endowed with feeling, it can know no more about right and wrong than about sweet or acid. Note, and note with emphasis: We ever forget, that while sense and sense only can perceive — as the palate perceives sweet, and vision perceives color — so also, they and they only can distinguish and in- fer respecting their specific objects; and for the simple reason too, that perception, distinction, and inference are positively one and inseparable. In a word, to say that the moral sense only can perceive right and wrong, is virtually saying that the moral 62 THE self: what IS IT? sense only can distinguish, infer, reason, or know anything about them or their vital implications. But an analysis of intelligence is the work of Part II. This chapter is simply intended to trace- intelligence to its sense origin; and hence this must suffice respecting individual senses. Beginning viith the palate as the lowest, we have reached the- moral sense as the highest,. and find the same essen- tial facts in each case: each sense has its specific functions and objects; each naturally enough, has- intelligence sufficient for and peculiar to its special wants ; nor can any one either loan or borrow in respect of essential function. As for the rest, it may be asked in a wholesale- way, what do we know about love, anger, humor, wit, envy, avarice, and many others, except from, these senses in person? Positively nothing; no more than a blind man can know about vision. Besides, as a positve matter of fact, each sense can perceive,, distinguish, and infer respecting its special objects; but perception, distinction, and inference personate- all the essential elements of human intelligence. Again and on the one hand, as intUigence does- not include cause and end in itself — is not a thing, in and for itself, it must be intended for the pur- poses of something which is in and for itself. On the other hand, since our combined senses repre- sent all our desires and needs ; and since each sense INTELLIGENCE — A PREDICATE OF SENSIBILITY 65 is amply endowed with intelligence for its own wants, then the combined intelligence of all, must equal the combined wants of all. What need or room then, for a so-called intellectual — foreign in- telligence? Quite a trite objection was omitted in the chapter on responsibility; but being pertinent just here, may be noted in passing: viz., Insane people are irresponsible and hence responsibility is grounded in intelligence. But with the next breath, the objector will chide religion, love, avarice, anger, or some like sense influence, as being the cause of insanity. This shows that the absence of intel- ligence, instead of beng the cause, is only a joint effect along with irresponsibility; while both absent intelligence and irresponsibility as joint effects, are referable to diseased sense-as the prime cause. But the objection overshoots the mark again, and which makes it pertinent just here. It suggests the question, how can the varying phases of insan- ity be explained, except as resulting from varying sense sources? Some are insane in one, and others- in two or more respects. -Allowing intelligence to be of one homogeneous intellectual kind, this could not happen: there could be no partial insanity; it would be either total, or not at all on this assump- tion. No matter what may be the merits of the trinal 64 THE self: WHAt IS IT? principle as an abstract form without content, yet it mounts to the highest significnce as the model of that self-prompting activity, which is the most characteristic trait of causality, and which withal has no concrete exemplification, except in sense — desire. Being thus, as respects form at least, the very mould of desire, and assuming, meanwhile that intelligence is an emanation from sense, it would be quite strange if this trinal principle were not the first and quite all-inclusive trait of intelligence: as for instance, in the trinality, perception, distinc- tion, arid inference. Moreover, being duplicated in the three funda- mental principles of logic, we can see more clearly, that it is not an invention of intelligence. Intelli- gence could not make logic, but was made by it. Logic is the frame work — the bone and sinew of in- telligence, and by virtue of which, intelligence is what it is. Thus, the two facts, that trinality on the one hand, is the all-inclusive trait of intelli- gence; and on the other, has no living personifica- tion except in sense, point most unequivocally to sense as the fountain-head of intelligence. If this view be too abstract, we may see much the same from a clearer standpoint. Take for in- stance, those traits of intelligence which Kant calls a priori, which the Scotch call primitive, or which are popularly called mother-wit, instinct,^ common INTELLIGENCE — A PREDICATE OF SENSIBILITY 65 sense, etc. These are rooted, and indeed buried so deep down in sense, as to be whollj' incognizable to intelligence: they can only be realized in feeling and not in knowing. As relates to intelligence, they are simply incog- nizable and inexplicable ; as relates to sense, they are simply felt to be true. We know them to be true of necessity ; but the knowing is a feeling and not an intelligible knowing. The law of cause and effect, which is implied in all coherent thought, is an example in point. Hume has shown, and nobody denies it, that no reason can be given why an effect necessarily follows from a cause. Still, we know it, and know it of necessity; but the knowing is a feeling and not an intelligible cognition, It is not extravagant to say, that the last and highest test of all truth, is a simple feeling of neces- sity to accept it as such. It will be seen at the proper place, that to perceive, is to know; to know, is to perceive ; and meanwhile, that feeling — not the illusive, go-between something called touch, but pure, simple feeling is the soul and highest test of all knowledge. Accordingly, sense and intelligence as before said, are not indeed identical ; and as one reason of their difference, sense is decidedly the higher authority in matters of knowledge. Higher? Most certainly; 66 THE self: what is it? and the same fact precisely has already been seeit from another standpoint : viz, Intelligence not only first dawns forth from sense; but all its subsequent operations are worthless until tested by sense. It maj' be added as a final thought, that unity of mind— one of the first assumptions of philosophy^ will not allow of two rival powers in the mental economy. Either sense must be the central and supreme element, with intelligence as a subordinate; else, contrariwise. But sense causality and responsi- bility settle this point beyond dispute. A multitude of other facts might be cited. These suffice ; while others might obscure the sufficient and self-evident facts already cited. Though suffi- cing, they were not intended for demonstration, sa much as to get the question clearly in view and en- able each reader to see the truth for himself. It must be noted before closing, that nothing^ above was meant to deny or disparage a so-called intellect, but rather to deny that any intelligence: can exist distinct from and independent of sense; and which amounts to saying, that all intelligence is of sense and sense only. As for the rest, the word intellectual is quite indispensable as an ad- jective form of the word intelligence. Neither is it meant, to deny the reality of reason, imagination, memory, or other like traits. They are simply denied as individual faculties; and re- INTELLIGENCE — A PREDICATE OF SENSIBILITY 67 garded instead, as general, impersonal principles, which enter into the constitution of each individ- ual sense. Just as we may say, each sense is en- dowed with feeling, activity, will, or other imper- sonal principle; so also, each one is endowed with reason, imagination, memory, etc., sufficient for and adapted to its own peculiar needs. As these impersonal generalities — reason, imagin- ation, memory, will, etc., are the materials employed in the structure of a mythical intellectual hierarchy^ it is well to note just here: First, reasoning for in- stance, at its least or at its most, implies nothing es- sential, except to perceive, distinguish and infer., But it is obvious that each of the senses can do pre- cisely the same, not to mention still other functions. What the need then for a faculty to reason only? — why and what would it reason about? Second, if only vision can perceive colors, only vision can know colors; and if only it can know colors, then only it can remember, imagine, and rea- son about colors. To say otherwise, is to say, that a faculty may remember and reason about that, which it has never perceived, or known, or thought of. Despite all, the devotee of an intellectual hieT rarchy is still suspicious and asks: What is to unify and control this heterogeneous multitude of senses, except some chief and central intelligence — a su. 68 THE SELF ; WHAT IS IT? preme reason? True enough; only, this central power is not of intelligence only, but rather one of sense, endowed with intelligence; for otherwise, we fall back into the old rut of a causal intelli- gence. Also, unity of mind is a first assumption of phi- losophy, and hence its various parts must look to unity; that is, its various senses — both in sensi- tive and intellectual respects, must tongue and groove — must be complemental; so that, it does not of necessity require a Solomon to keep such a mass unified. As for the rest, the central power is, or ought to be, the moral sense; if for nothing else, it rep- resents our highest interests. But the moral sense is often dethroned, and its place usurped by one or more stronger senses. Except for the possibility of such revolution, there would be no room for rhoral free agency in. the mental economy. How- ever and hereby, the given usurper at once becomes the central power in question, and as such subordi- nates all others to its own purposes. As individuals, each sense remains just what it was — retains its identity; yet, as fully as can be, it subserves the said central power. All combined, the mass moves this way or that, according to the dictates of the central or strongest power. Hence, there is no more need for an intellectual Solomon INTELLIGENCE — ^A PREDICATE OF SENSIBILITY 69 in the case, than for such an one to overlook the motions of the solar system. Each system is in- herently able to take care of itself, only with God's help. So much by way of exposition. Indeed, do not the facts amount to demonstration? Just these three for instance: It must be admitted on all hands, (i) that intelligence first sprouts forth from sense; (2) that its root principles are buried so deep down in sense as to be realized only by feel- ing, being withal wholly incognizable to intelli- gence; and (3) that all its subsequent activities are worthless, until verified by a sense test. Should the phantom of a distinct and controlling intellectual hierarchy still flit before us, the only alternative is self evident, practical matter of fact. Such proof is not wanting. It has been employed before; but this does not matter. The last four propositions of this Part I, are included in the first — that is, in sense causality; so that, a proof of one amounts to a proof of all. The fact in ques- tion is this: ., The intelligence of every man is constantly em- ployed in subserving the demands of his ruling sense or senses. Thus : the intelligence of the miser, is converged on money getting; that of the thief, on stealing ; that of the ambitious, on pre- ferment; that of the philanthropist, on doing goodi 70 THE self: what is it? that of the average man on the love and main- tenance of his family; that even of the philosopher, on those studies dictated by his sense demands. Yes truly, even the wise philosopher is primarily prompted and controlled by sense, and not by any supreme reason; and so on with all men to the end of the chapter. A world full of theories, arguments, illusions, and prejudice avail nothing against one practical fact. In this instance, we have (i), the fact that every man is controlled by one or more ruling senses; (2), that intelligence is invariably a purely passive instrument of sense; and (3), that the spec- ial phase of intelligence always corresponds to the ruling sense in the given case. That is, the intelli- gence of the miser will always abound in devices and maxims for money getting. The only inference is, that the intelligence of the miser, is that which springs from and is adapted to the peculiar wants of the sense called avarice ; ji'.st as that which perceives sweet, springs from the palate; or as that which perceives color, springs from vision. In other words, each sense requires a peculiar intelligence, adapted to its own peculiar wants; the intelligence needed for vision for ex- ample, would not suit for the hearing. At this rate, each sense must either have a native born intelli- gence of its own; else, it must per force seize. INTELLIGENCE — A PREDICATE OF SENSIBILITY Jl %)end, twist, or otherwise conform intelligence to its special uses, as occasion might require. This latter seems unnatural and monstrous. It plainly follows, that the relation between sense and intelligence, implies much more than that be- tween a bare antecedent and consequent; insomuch, if we say with truth, that the flame springs from, conforms to, and is an emanation from the burning "body; even so and with equal truth, we may affirm, that intelligence springs from, conforms to, and is ■an emanation from its corresponding sense. Meanwhile, except illusion and assumption, what is the proof for an over-ruling intellectual hierarchy? In the light of sober facts, it fades away to the imost mythical of myths. CHAPTER VI. THE SELF — AN IMPERSONATION OF SENSIBILITY. In view of the foregoing, either the Self must be grounded in sense; else, sense must be grounded in the Self, either of which would serve for most rational purposes. But this leaves the Self too vague and impersonal. It is well to see more defi- nitely the characteristics whereby selfhood emerges from sense; as also, to deduce proof from the Self in person, that it does consist essentially of sense. Every thing in existence must come under one or the other of these two categories: Either it is a thing in and for itself; else, it is a thing in- tended for the behoof of something other than it- self. In the first event, it is called subject, cause, etc., and as such, it alone can claim selfhood. In the second event, it is called predicate, instrument, means, etc., but as such can make no claim to selfhood. This amounts to saying, everything which in- cludes in itself, the two conceptions cause and end, is a self. But inasmuch as all sensibility includes 72 THE SELF — AN IMPERSONATION, OF SENSIBILITY 73 the two, so and to that_ extent, dumb brutes may claim selfhood. So they may; and so far, man and brute stand on a common level. But man mounts higher by means of the third proposition — respon sibility, which implies moral quality. Without moral quality, there could be no responsibility; without responsibility, no man. Then, cause, end, and moral quality — another trinity in unity, represent selfhood in the fullest sense. The latter — moral quality, as the climax, culminates in responsibility — in responsible man. These three essential elements of the highest self- hood, submitted to logical formula, would stand thus: (i) Cause or subject; (2) End or object; (3) Moral quality as the ground whence results the re- sponsible or human self. No additional proof or abstract exposition, other than that of the previous chapters, is needed to show that the Self consists essentially of sense. As cause, end, and moral quality are predicable of sense only, and are meanwhile the three most char- acteristic traits of the Self, the latter of necessity, must consist essentially of sense. Empirical facts only, are needed to complete the proof. From a multitude, a few decisive ones may be glanced at. Self preservation is well enough called the first law of nature: without it, all individuality would soon fall back into chaos. According to this prin- 74 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT? ciple, the Self would be firstly and chiefly occupied in the preservation of itself; and in the next place, would naturally enough feel the deepest interest in the selfhood of others. What is the selfhood of others; rather, what is the precise point in the character ot others, which excites our deepest in- terests? If this can be found out, we have de- cisive proof for identifying the Self. As often said, every one is apt to be mainly en- gaged in meeting his own sense demands. This is true of all, even of the best men: the philanthro- pist — wholly devoted to the good of others, is so prompted by impulses of pity, love, benevolence, or other sense main-spring. However, on getting a spare moment from one's self so as to look abroad on others, our attention is firstly and mainly inter- ested in the sense experiences of others. In a ro- mance, for instance, the sense experience of a beg- gar is far more attractive, than the intellectual experience of any philosopher, or the political ex- perience of any king. There are no legitimate exceptions to this nota- ble fact. In every day experience, in history, in biography, in literature, in the beauties of art, in the pulpit, on the stage, in the Bible, in a romance, in the newspaper, in common gossip — in all and ev- erywhere, we look for and are never deeply inter- ested except in exhibitions of sensibilitj'. No mat- TEK SELF AN IMPERSOMATION OF SENSIBILITY 75 ter what its phase: whether beautiful or ugly, vir- tuous or vicious, exalting or degrading, sublime or -monstrous, it always fixes every eye. But why so fascinating? Why such a wonder worker — such a universal champion, fixing the at- tention of every eye and bearing away the garland from all the great games of human experience, un- less it be the veritable Self in person? A still more decisive fact is this : "All that a man hath, will he give for his life." Not what he is, but what he hath; not himself, but his posses- sions, that he will give for his life. This is plainly undeniable; but does not yet reach the question. A man will not only give all his possessions for his life, but turning about, will even give life itself for something still more precious. What is that •other and still more precious something? History is a great ware-house full of practical facts, bearing on the question. According to these, after giving all physical treasures for his life, a man ■will then, in turn, give life itself for certain heart treasures or principles; that is, his loves, hopes, fears, dislikes, and otlier like sense qualities. For the sake of these latter, millions have given up life ; but no man ever willingly died for anything else. Least of all, did any man ever die for his intellectual treasures: not even Galileo. Of course, any trifle may sometimes be the means 76 THE SELG: WHAT IS IT? of first arousing and calling forth sense, to a death conflict; but in such case, it is the exasperated sense fighting for its own integrity, and not for the trifle which happened first to call it out. It is not extravagant to say, that every man of normal character will sacrifice his life for love, honor, or other like sense interest. On the battle- field, most men will sacrifice life on the score of patriotism, sooner than be called cowards. Even the thief and debauchee will sacrifice life in obedi- ence to some one or other sense prompting. It may often be hard to find a man's pet sense — his heart treasure. But keep up the pursuit; by and by he will retreat to it ; and right there by that treasure, he will die, and die hard too. This heart or sense element of human character, for which men are willing to sacrifice life and everything else, must contain the Self. Distinct from, yet close akin to this, is the other notable fact, that we are always ready to exchange possessions with others, when a good bargain is to be had. We not only exchange lands and houses, but if possible, would even exchange health, beauty, body — nay, even intelligence itself, if sure of a good bargain in the exchange. On the other hand, no beggar in the world would exchange heart treas- ures with a king. Indeed, to forfeit one's hopes, loves, dislikes, etc., would be to forfeit personal THE SELF — AN IMPERSONATION OF SENSIBILITY 77 identity; it would amount to no less than annihi- lation. This is enough in the way of empirical facts. That which we will not sell, nor exchange for any- thing else; that for which we will sacrifice every- thing, including even physical life, must be the veritable Self; and which as here seen, is not a physical, nor intellectual but a sensitive or feeling something. By the way, what better proof can be wanted for human immortality? If this life be the all of us, how could instinct thus take us by the hair of the head and constrain us to sacrifice this all, unless there be a future life? Such constraint otherwise, would be strange and unnatural to an extreme degree. Truly, the Self is a heroic traveler, bent on a long journey. Its invincible instinct in thus scorn- ing death in certain perils is plainly a sort of inborn gravity which draws it to a higher and more per- manent centre. Alas! for a death-loving material- ism, which would fain balk a destiny so sublime. CHAPTER VII. INFERENCES AND OBJECTIONS SUGGESTED BY PART U This book is presented as an analysis of mind ; not in its details, but in its fundamental aspects. With this view, it was taken in its totality at the start and divided into two chief spheres — sensibility and intelligence. Sensibility was assumed to be th& basic or essential element; and hereupon, cause, end, responsibility, intelligence and selfhood were- affirmed to be predicable of sense only. The first: — sense causality, of necessity includes the four remaining propositions. It was seen that the truth. of this first and all-inclusive one, is among the- clearest, most vital, and most certain demonstra- tions, that the mind is capable of making; and hence, that the four subsequent ones — as implica- tions of the first, are equally true. Instead then of worrying with inadvertencies or- minor mistakes occurring along the way, the short- est cut for the materialist will be, to assail sense, causality. Let him disprove this first proposition, and therewith the whole book falls dead. But: should sense causality still stand invincible desp't-°.- 78 'INFERENCES AND OBJECTIONS 79 his assaults, then likewise will the drift of this, as also that of Part II, stand as unanswerable dis- proof of all his empty theories. Inferences. Among many inferences to be drawn from Part I, one at least must be noted, because of its great practical import. It is. this: If sense be the causal and responsible element of mind, then intelligence as a mere passive instrument, cannot make man better in moral respects; yet, the com- mon assumption is, that men are morally better, in proportion to their intelligence. This is plainly a most frightful error. In the hands of an already good man, intelligence is a great instrument for good; but in the hands of a bad man it is equally powerful for harm, and thus cancels itself as a moral instrument. It needs no proof that intelligence is just as ready, and just as willing a tool for the highwayman, as for the good man ; and • hence, is positively a moral neu- ter. Doubtless, moral instruction, backed by example, sympathy, and other such influences, may conduce to moral results; but purely secular instruction as distinguished from the other, can in no sense do so. As respects moral results, intelligence is al- ways, either an advantage or disadvantage, accord- ing to the antecedent moral conditions in the given case. 8o THE self: what is it? What is true of individuals, is equally true of nations; though statesmen leading on the mass, ever cry aloud for more education and more money as the two most vital factors of both individual and national prosperity. All illustrious nations of the present and past, primarily started out in comparative poverty and ignorance; yet, despite these drawbacks to their in- fancy, finally reached the summit. How? Certain- ly not by the aid of either money or culture, both of which were lacking at the very nick of time. Besides, if money and culture be the two vital factors of prosperity, then a nation being once so endowed, ought therewith to become perpetual. But the truth is, precisely the contrary; insomuch, that nations never fall into ruin, except when pre- cisely at the zenith of culture and wealth. Without exception, history shows that a manly, heroic sensibility, is the only fouffder and builder of nations; while a subsequently demoralized and corrupt sensibility is the only destroyer. Meanwhile and through all, culture and money" are but tools at the most; and strangely enough, though never con- spicuous tools in the founding of a nation, they are always the most efficient tools in pulling it down. No infatuation of our times is so subtle, so rap- idly growing or of such frightful promise, as that sheer education, backed by the modern press and INFERENCES AND OBJECTIONS 8 1 school system, insures our future prosperity beyond all peradventure. This too, in the teeth of the plain fact, that all the culture and money of the world combined, cannot make one virtuous man. But there is no demand for virtuous men. Never- theless, to turn loose a man without virtue, no mat- ter how highly endowed with money and culture, is much the same with turning loose a madman to run at large with a fire brand. If every American citizen were a Solomon in knowledge and a Croesus in wealth, yet lacking in common honesty, we would rush pell-mell to ruin, as certainly as water runs down stream. If we must have culture and wealth, then we must; but because of our exploits in these two re- spects, neither truth nor decency will allow us to claim, that we have done our whole duty, leaving nothing else to do. First objection. Several journals in noticing the first edition of this book, asked byway of criticism: "What is the Self after all? The author has left us in the dark." Said journals failed to note the fact, that the Self had been taken bodily out. of the sphere of intelli- gence, and put into that of Sensibility, contrary to all previously implied opinion on the subject; and hence, instead of severe- censure for such revolu- tionary procedure, the author was quite surprised to hear: What is the Self after all? 82 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT? However, it was shown in that, as well as in this, that the Self consists essentially of sense, with cause, end, and responsibility as its most character- istic traits; that responsibility— as the highest of the three by its implication of moral quality, points directly to the moral sense as the legitimate head of the Self; but that, by way of a possibility for moral free agency, the moral sense may be dethroned by a stronger sense ; which latter, , usurping the crown and scepter of the former, therewith person- ates the supreme authority or Self for the time. What more? We cannot draw forth the Self,, and measure it with a tape line. Until we can, perhaps the most definitive, yet concise and ample definition possible, is to call it that which happens, to be the ruling sense in the given case, and at the given time. Many will deny this; yet all admit it from some one or other standpoint. It is a common sense max- im for example, that a man is just precisely what his ruling sense may be. Again, desiring to exalt or degrade a man to the utmost degree, we sum up his merits or demerits in that one word, which rep- resents his ruling sense; and to know which, we already know the man in advance, without seeing him. The words patriot, saint, tyrant, thief, etc , present the man in a nut shell, and often with more precision, than can be got from an average biogra- INFERENCES AND OBJECTIONS 83 phy. Note too, the words patriot, saint, and tyrant give no hint as to the man's body or intelligence: these two latter are wholly ignored in the make-up of the man or Self. But the trouble in this matter, is the same as that already seen from another standpoint, and con- sists chiefly in not seeing ourselves as others see us. To find the Self of another, we go straight to sense — to his ruling sense, and thus beard the lion in his den. But to find one's own Self, is quite another thing. Indeed, such information is not in much demand; and even when it is, it is much easier- and more agreeable, to see one's Self afar off and! high up — a sort of intellectual dignitary, than as ai plain, every-day sense; and which perhaps withal, has no fine parts worth boasting about. We forget, however, that this smart way of deceiving ourselves, never deceives any body else. As another objection, the book so far, says one, is a system of pure sensualism, in which brute sense is extolled at the expense of intelligence. This class of objectors are apt to be profuse in the phrases, brute sense, animal appetites, and the like, little thinking at the time, that they hereby tacitly yield the very point in question. For plainly, such berating of sense, tacitly assumes it to be the causal and responsible element of mind ; else, it is quite silly and unjust to censure it so sharply. 84 THE self: what is it? It is also forgotten, that the dumb brute is here- by and meanwhile most shamefully slandered. Hav- ing no moral sense, the brute is irresponsible ; yet by associating human sense and brute appetite as one, man and brute are put on the same moral level: whereas, a vicious man is far below the ir- responsible brute. Of course, human sense is bad enough ; it is ever ready to stray off into wrong paths; and being left to go free, is not apt to stop short of the lowest degradation. But otherwise what would be the result? Without real or possible degradation, there could be no exaltation ; without darkness, no light. In truth, a manly control of viciously inclined sense, is the very ladder whereby man mounts to his high- est honor and happiness. By curbing vicious senses, and conforming them to the rules of moral honesty, there comes into ex- istence that beautiul something, called "the noblest work of God." By subjecting self interest to the demands of patriotism, the world "was honored by a Leonidas. So that, without these same viciously inclined senses, there could have been no "noblest work of God," no Leonidas, no Socrates to thrill the world's heart with manly pride. Without these senses indeed, we could have had no existence at all, either good or bad. And with- out them, pray what would even heaven be, though , INFERENCES AND OBJECTIONS 85 lighted up with intelligence to the highest blaze? No more than a banquet hall, fully adorned and lighted up, yet without any guests to enjoy the light and beauty. This question has two sides then. On the one side, though sense is by no means a faultless angel; yet on the other, it is the only ladder whereby men can mount to essential dignity and happiness. Instead of two sides, it is perhaps more fitting to say, sense has two possible states or phases: one, of the lowest degradation; the other, of the highest exaltation. Human language is not able to picture either phase, when at its fullest. Milton's Satan may in some sort symbolize the phase of degradation; while Prometheus mounting up in quest of the heavenly fire, will give a glimpse of the other. These two phases being conjoined to represent the full possibilities of sense, present us the image of a very demi-god; standing flat-footed in the lowest hell, it is yet able to reach up and touch the highest heaven. What folly then, to talk of setting up a will-o'-the-wisp intellect, as ruler over such a demi-god? PART II. INTELLIGENCE. CHAPTER I. THE TWO SPECIES OF COGNITION AND THEIR CORRE- SPONDING OBJECTS. Allowing such a thing as intelligible truth, then intelligence, as the standard of such truth, must be allowed to be truthful also. Yet despite its truth- fulness, it abounds throughout with contradiction. But how can it be true, and yet contradictor)'? This is the one chief problem of intellectual phi- losophy. Its solution — the proper explanation of contradiction, will prove both an analysis of intelli- gence, and an exposure of the false element here indicated. Evidently, if intelligence be both truthful and self-controlling, it could not be false The solution is impossible, except on the assumption, that while truthful /^r J^, it is yet passive; and like all passive instruments, may be misused or perverted by some THE TWO SPECIES OF COGNITION iiy superior power. On the other hand, it is a univer- sally recognized fact, that sense is the causal and responsible element of mind ; and which at once points out sense as the only power which could so pervert a truthful and passive intelligence. In other words, sense causality with its implications, is the one universal principle for explaining all contradiction and sophistry. Hence, an analysis of sense as the basic element •of mind, must of logical necessity precede that of intelligence; indeed, an attempted analysis of the latter, is simply absurd without the former. Throughout the present inquiry then, a constant eye must be kept on sense causality as the only means for distinguishing between the legitimate activities of intelligence on the one hand, and its ■disturbed activities on the other; which latter are but the perturbations caused by an over-ruling sense, and result in contradiction. The inquiry of course must begin with elemen- tary principles. But such inquiries lead into diffi- cult abstractions. In order to avoid and mitigate such abstractions, as much as can be, it is well to use illustration whenever possible. Accordingly, as the very first step of the inquiry, an illustration will aid us in finding out precisely what it is, that we wish to find out. To illustration then. The sun rises and sets; the 88 THE selk: what is it? sun does not rise and set. Here is a positive con- tradiction. It is no dispute between ignorance and culture as often assumed; instead, it is a dispute between two distinct intelligent agents, looking, form one and the same mind, though doubtless look- ing from different standpoints of said mind. One asserts, and truthfully too, from his standpoint, that the sun rises and setsj the other with equal truth from his standpoint, asserts precisely the contrary. Besides admitting two distinct agents, looking from different standpoints, it may also be admitted, that each one has functions peculiar to itself. StilL the contradiction remains, despite the evident hon- esty and truthfulness of each. The first clew to the trouble, respects the object looked at. True enough, the issue is one and sim- ple — about the rising and setting of the sun; but the objects looked at are wholly different. One looks at the apparent relations of sun-and earth; the. other, at the total, unit motion of the entire solar system: one looks at a part — a material part; the other at an immaterial whole. Neither does this fully mend the matter: the contradiction still reiiiains. Yet it points out the last and only possible alternative: for allowing the truthfulness of both agents, it follows of necessity, that one or the other of the two, is whollj' incom- petent to the question. One or the other is out of THE TWO SPECIES OF COGNITION 89 its legitimate sphere, and incompetent to the prob- lem, relatively either to function, or object, or both; somewhat as the ear would be incompetent relatively to color. What then is the precise difference between the respective functions and objects of these two in- telligent agents? A correct answer to this, includ- ing sense causality and its implications, will be a full answer to the present inquiry: that is, it will not only reconcile this contradiction, but all others; and in so doing, will amount to a joint analysis of intelligence and materialism, in fundamental re- spects at least. The outlines of all this, though perhaps dim, will be given in this one chapter. A concise and hasty procedure is thought best, in order to avoid the fa- tigue and disgust, which might otherwise attend an inquiry so dry and difficult. A glimpse ever so dim, of the outlines in this chapter will, however, grow clearer at every forward step. Indeed, everything after this chapter, is simply intended to elaborate, illustrate, confirm, and familiarize the hasty out- lines now to be presented. The problem plainly presents two essential elements: the intelligences which look, and the objects looked at. That is, (i) the powers of cognition: and (2), the objects of cog- nition. (I.) The Powers of Cognition. Our solar illustration clearly points out two dis- go THE self: what is it? tinct species of intelligence, or cognitive powers. This needs no proof. Philosophical as well as com- mon sense usage both, implicitly at least, recognize two species of cognition. They are variously called understanding and reason, dogmatical and demon- strative, discursive and intuitive, lower and higher intelligence, and so on. Few words are so variously and vaguely employed, as the words understanding and reason. On this and other accounts needless to give, let us adopt the two words discursive and intuitive to represent the two species of cognition. So then, the analysis begins by dividing total in- telligence into two grand species, to be called dis- cursive and intuitive. Note well, the words discur- sive and intuitive are not employed to represent in- dividual faculties, but the two general phases of cognitioh. The discursive phase consists of the five senses, which latter act only on physical objects by means of physical organs; while the intuitive phase consists of all the other senses, which act only on immaterial objects without the aid of physical organs. In a former chapter was pointed out the ground- less inconsistency of assuming all the senses to be blind, except the five. It will suffice just here to say in addition, that the greater and by far most vital part of human knowledge, is forever beyond the reach of five sense perception: for example. THE TWO SPECIES OF COGNITION QI lieauty, justice, equity, etc., and on which are ^grounded our most vital interests. The five senses are positively blind to all these higher objects. Nay, have we not just seen, that five-sense percep- tion is not only stone-blind respecting the true so- lar theory, but, positively denies it to the bitter end? Then, whence our knowledge of these and other like immaterial objects? All knowledge must come in one of three ways: either, it must be innate or inspirational — both of which the materialist denies; else, it must come through some perceptive sense •corresponding to the given object. Hence, all the other senses, as well as the five, must be percep- tive; for otherwise, we cannot account for a knowl- «dge of immaterial objects Then returning, cognition is of two chief species: the discursive, which acts on physical objects by the aid of physical organs ; and the intuitive, which acts on immaterial objects without the aid of phys- ical organs. These distinctions are sharp, plain, and natural withal. But do discursive and intuitive differ in no other respects? Most certainly. Their material and im- material objects differ so widely as to require cor- respondingly differing functions. That is, discursive cognition operates by means of comparison or meas- urement; while the intuitive, by means of contrast only. 92 THE self: what is it? What is the difference between comparison and contrast? None at all, according to some writers, who hold that comparison is a universal process dominating all cognitive activity. But no matter about such vagaries. To avoid delay and abstrac- tions, it is enough to say just here, that comparison and contrast differ about as much as the two pro- cesses — measuring differences and perceiving differ- ences. This again may seem quite trifling; yet it will prove one of the most vital points of the inquiry. For example, the bodies of two men may differ in height, weight, etc., and such difference may be compared or measured to the least fraction. The minds of the same two men may also differ very greatly, but this latter can never be measured : it can only be perceived by contrast. No matter about the original meaning of com- parison and contrast. As herein used, comparison always implies measuring differences ; while contrast implies perceiving differences; and which distinc- tion simply means to say in plain English, that the objects of the one are measurable, those of ths other are not. This again simply points out the' distinction between mind and matter, which latter is the vital point, not the definition of comparison and contrast : select any other two words you may choose in their stead, so that the vital point is kept in view. THE TWO SPECIES OF COGNITION 93 Now again, discursive cognition acts through phy- sical organs, on physical objects, by means of com- parison; while the intuitive acts on immaterial ob- jects, without physical organs, by means of contrast only. Of course it is assumed, that the individual facul- ties constituting discursive and intuitive cognition, are each endowed with reason, memory, etc. Still other traits, obvious to the reader, may be omitted. The above sketch gives all the characteristic traits of the two cognitions, needed thus far. The eye cannot hear, nor can the ear see. Each is restricted to and stays in its own sphere; and hence, they never collide. But not so with the two cognitive powers. The discursive especially, which can only act on physical objects by a measuring comparison, is constantly attempting immaterial ob- jects, which are wholly beyond its reach. Such naeddling with things out of its own sphere, gives a glimpse of how disorder and contradiction may and constantly do occur. (II.) The Objects of Cognition. Take either side you may —materialism or ideal- ism, and in either event, mind and matter must sustain a relation much the same with that between cause and effect; and in either event also, the two must correspond to a notable degree. This is well illustrated by the categories of those 94 THE self: what is it? two famous men, Kant and Aristotle. Starting fromf. mind, Kant gives the categories of cognition; while, starting from matter, Aristotle gives those of the objects of cognition. Yet, though starting from op- posite poles, their results concurred much as the: hand concurs with its glove. This simply shows, that, in order to be cogniza- ble, objects must be adapted to the cognitive power; must come within the scope of said power, just as- color must do for instance, in order to be a suita- ble object for vision. Being true in special, it must be equally true in general respects. Hence, the necessary inference: that all cognizable objects must be divided into two great classes, corresponding with the func- tions of the two cognitive powers, discursive; and intuitive. That is, inasmuch as all cognition, proceeds either by comparison or contrast, even so, all cognizable objects must be either compara- ble or contrastable. This is but saying again, that all objects must- come into one or the other of the two categories, mind or matter; for as a positive fact, matter and all its implications are comparable to a fraction; while those of mind are precisely the contrary; they can only be contrasted, not measured. It is an astonishing assumption then, that mind' and matter are identical. Is human intelligence a. THE TWO SPECIES OF COGNITION 95 valid authority on the question? But though intel- ligence can measure the physical world, yet it can- not measure one whit of itself, nor indeed any one of its least implications. This distinction between mind and matter is plainly an impassable gulf, which intelligence can not deny, without denying its own innate constitution. Here we come to the chief trouble of the inquiry: here, we get down to the germinal elements of cog- nition: and here, the author feels powerless. Not powerless to point out and maintain the distinction between mind and matter, but to sufficiently em- phasize the fact, that this distinction in its fullness is the first and most inexorable condition of valid cognition. The elementary character of the question, being as it is at the very root of cognition, escapes scrutiny by virtue of its simplicity. Thus, all cognition and all knowledge — as abstrac- tions apart from their content, are no more than a series of distinctions. Excepting the power to perceive in its primary sense, cognition begins, con- tinues and ends in making distinctions. To this end, discursive and intuitive cognition are endowed with comparison and contrast, for the specific pur- pose of making distinctions: and in harmony here with, all cognizable objects are either comparable or contrastable. Plainly then, this great distinction between com- 96 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT? parison and contrast as cognitive functions, and be- tween comparable and contrastable as correspond- ing traits of cognizable objects, is the first, the cen- tral, the parent of all distinctions. The total ma- chinery of cognition is constructed in accordance with this great distinction. In other words, our present economy of cognition is what it is, by vir- tue of conformity with this distinction, and could not exist without it. This amounts to saying firstly, without distinc- tions between objects, all individual things would melt into oneness or chaos, and secondly, since dis- tinctions are so vital, there must be some first, cen- tral, equatorial distinction, as a standard for all other distinctions. Accordingly we here have a great distinction girdling the entire sphere of cog- nition: comparative and contrastive as respects cognitive powers: and a corresponding comparable and contrastable as respects cognizable objects, the latter being illustrated by the broad, deep and nat- ural distinction between matter and mind. It is the latter which causes the trouble com- plained of. That is, though as respects cognitive processes, we in some sort conform to the great distinction: yet in respect of objects — in respect of the difference between mind and matter, the dis- tinction is so plain and broad, as to seem too trite for notice; and we hence become incapable of fully THO TWO SPECIES OF COGNITION 97 seeing its vast import. Yet, this indifference, or indolence, or whatever it may be called, is precisely the gap by which materialism enters and does its fatal mischief. By carelessly neglecting the distinction between mind and matter; or which is the same, by con- founding mind and matter or their least implica- tions, matter is often unwittingly put in the place of mind, symbolizes mind: and by illusion being mistaken for mind, it presently supercedes — contra- dicts mind. Though quite vague and general, this is the gap through which all contradiction, sophis- try, and falsehood come into existence. Of course this will be denied, at least by those who have not seriously examined the question. Yet it will be quite plain with a little pains-taking interest and attention. ^As a first step toward a clearer and more definite view, let us see the impli- cations of the words comparable and contrastable, as the traits of matter and mind. Whatever is comparable or measurable, must have extent — must have extensive quantity. Hav- ing extent, it must be divisible; being divisible, it must have parts: and having divisible parts, it must be perishable. On the other hand and precisely to the contrary, a contrastable or incomparable object in having no extent, can only have intensive quantity. Being in- gS THE self: what is ir? tensive as respects quantity, it must be indivisible;- being indivisible, it must be a unit: and being a unit, it must be imperishable. To certain minds these implications are self-evi- dent. To others they may not be; but such others will not have patience to enter into their deduction-. The delay and fatigue in showing them up was the chief cause of failure in this part of the first edi- tion. They must be left to speak for themselves. They will be realized as true, little by little, at least to such as may have sufficient interest to study them closely. But the point to be noted here, is this: Contra- diction, sophistry, etc., do not often result from confounding mind and matter in a wholesale way; but rather, from confounding their implications; insomuch, generally speaking, the .more remote the implication, the more subtle is the contradiction. But this cannot be understood, without illustration. The conception infinite for instance, is deduced from the endless extent and divisibility of matter or its implications — time and space. Though this word infinite is not specified in the above list, it is clearly implied in the conception divisible, and divisible is implied in extensive quantity, while this last is predicable of matter. Now then to apply this word infinite to God, tac itly puts God in the category of matter; insomuch. THE TWO SPECIES OF COGNITION 99 that any debate in which this is done, necessarily leads to confusion and contradiction. Indeed, as- suming God to be infinite, it is easy to disprove both his personality and existence. To conceive of God extensively as we do of end- less space, He vanishes into nothingness; whereas, to conceive of Him intensively as we do of mind. He instantly comes back; comes back distinctly to view, as the great Absolute Mind, as the prime Cause and Father of all things; this too, with as much distinctness as we can conceive of a human, mind. But mark, infinite is only an implication of the implication divisible; and if so remote a predicate' of matter as this, yet suffices to challenge the per- sonality and existence of God, of course a common habit of carelessly confounding the predicates of mind and mater, can but result in endless sophis- tries and contradictions. But have patience. This point is the trouble hinted at above, as indeed of the whole chapter; not the trouble of seeing a distinction between mind and matter, but to be sufficiently impressed with the imperious necessity of keeping the distinction between the predicates of the two, as clear as a sun-beam in all our inquiries.- Otherwise, we re- main dupes of illusion and sophistry; otherwise indeed, intelligence itself becomes a very will-o'- lOo THE self: what is it? the-wisp for leading us into hopeless darkness. Thus again, it will be seen a little later, that a very trifling illusion, which results from confound- ing mind and matter, sufiSces to completely reverse the principle of cause and effect. To reverse this compass-needle of thought, of course turns the whole machinery of intelligence wrong-end fore- most; so that, instead of the natural order, we now see causes result from effects, and wholes from parts. Now this very tricky has ever been the very strong- hold of materialism. Here precisely was born its one and all-inclusive idea: viz.. Growth. That is, growth by means of adding atom to atom and part to part, whereby presently results a cause or whole as the effect of such combination. In precise ac- cord herewith, is the old atomic theory, which makes atoms the cause of the universe; and also the same though later doctrine of evolution, which makes the human mind a mere effect, resulting from the combination of chips arid whetstones as the cause. Yet, in the face of this wholesale outrage to log- ic, common sense, and common decency, we stand bewildered and unable to make any direct reply, without the distinction in question; for without this distinction, we cannot detect the illusion where- by the causal principle is so reversed and intelli- ge ice so turned wrong-end foremost. THE TWO SPECIES OF COGNITION lOI Of course it is done by confounding mind and matter. Mind is assumed — perhaps unconsciously by some remote implication, to be an extensive and divisible thing: and hence, may grow like a sand- bank by the addition of atom to atom. But the special illusion in the case will be examined very soon. This reference to a reversed causality and the subtle deception of the word infinite, are simply noted in order to show the frightful havoc which results from confounding the implications of mind and matter. Or let it be roundly stated thus: Despite sense causality, and despite the pervertibility of intelli- gence, contradiction and sophistry would still be positively impossible, without illusion; while illu- sion in turn, would be equally impossible, without the confounding of mind and matter, or their im- plications. To make no mistake then, it is well to see these implications again side by side, thus: Comparable, Extenswe, Divisible, Partial, Perish- able. Incomparable, Intensive, Indivisible, Unified, Im- perishable. If vagueness should attach to any term of either series, you have but to contrast it with the corre- sponding term of the opposite series. The root con- ceptions, comparable and incomparable, being direct opposites, each successive term must of logical ne- cessity be the direct opposite of its correspondent 102 THE self: what IS IT? in the other series. To remember either series or any term of either, only requires to think of its op- posite. Any one suffices to recall the whole; so that, no effort of memory is necessary in the case. Though nature has made a distinction between mind and matter, as plain and broad as the milky way, yet many men — notably niaterialists, do not see it. Standing in the midst of this broad and sun-lit highway, they ever cry aloud: Here, is a seeming way to be sure; but it is a blind way, neither pointing nor leading any whither: Alas! I am lost! I am an agnostic! But the distinction with its implications, gives a reason for itself: viz., Matter is measurable and Mind is not. This capacity and incapacity to be measured or compared, may be thought a very trite reason for the distinction, yet it is the very rock on which the present economy of cognition is grounded. That is, without comparison and contrast as cogni- tive powers; and without the corresponding compar- able and incomparable traits of cognizable objects, there could be no distinctions beween objects; and without distinctions, no cognition. So that, an intelligence which denies a radical distinction be- tween mind and matter, denies the very rock whereon itself is builded; it is a self-repudiating intelligence, quite as amazing, as it is suicidal and contradictory. THE TWO SPECIES OF COGNITION I03 It may be stated as a last note under this head, that matter, with time and space as its implications, constitutes the total realm of measurable objects. These and their modifications can be measured in mass or in parts, and differences in any case can be got to the last fraction. Precisely to the contrary on the other hand, mind ■with its predicates, constitutes the incomparable realm. Its predicates are life, sense, intelligence, all principles, powers, essences, or whatever else per- tains to immaterial existence. Of course, this in- cludes God, angels, devils, soul, spirit, and all other immaterial things, whether real or imaginary. Nothing in this realm is measurable. Compare jnind with matter for instance, in respect of weight, bulk, or otherwise. Compare one man's mind with another. Compare sense with intelligence: pain "with pleasure: virtue with vice: knowledge with ignorance, and so on. That is, in either instance, •what, or how much of one, will be an equivalent of the other. Such attempt would be absurd; sim- ply because, being positive realities, they are just ■what they are, by virtue of being what they are, and not by comparison with other things. So much for the objects of cognition. Now, what have we as final results? First, a total cognition divided into two grand species, discursive and in- tuitive. The discursive, through physical organs, I04 THE self: what is it? acts on physical objects, by means of comparison. The intuitive, without such organs, acts on imma- terial objects, by means of contrast. Second, all cognizable objects divided into two grand classes — comparable and contrastable, corresponding pre- cisely with the two cognitive powers. This striking and general concurrence between the powers and the objects of cognition, is a sort of reciprocal certificate of each to the other; just as vision for instance, certifies to the reality of color, while color in turn certifies to the veracity of vision. But this scheme — including sense causality, not only claims internal proof by virtue of its natural- ness, simplicity, and conformity to empirical facts; but also claims external proof as well. That is,, it claims to explain contradiction, and, in so doing,, amounts to an analysis of intelligence and an ex- posure of materialism jointly. This second or external proof can only be got hy applying the scheme to contradictions. Not to all contradictions — for they are simply endless, but to a sufficient number and variety of the chief ones, to show that all are of the same origin and explica- ble in the same way. This being done, we ha-ve a double proof; and which will amount to proving; the ground of all proof. As a start toward testing the scheme in the sec- THE TWO SPECIES OF COGNITION I05 ond respect, we can now return to the solar contra- diction. The first thing in this, is to see the real point at issue. It is not about the physical elements of the solar system, but about its total motion. Now, though the effects of force on matter can be meas- ured, yet force itself cannot. It is hence intensive, unified, indivisible, etc., like other objects of this category. The intuitive cognition then, which alone can deal with such objects, is the only Co- pernicus capable of grappling the unit motion of the system. It is equally plain on the other hand, that the discursive which can act only by means of the five senses, and on matter, cannot reach the question. It can only see the physical elements of the sys- tem. Nay, it only looks at a part of said elements — the sun and earth; and this part, it can only judge of by means of a measuring comparison — a comparison between the apparent motion of the sun and the apparent fixed position of the earth. In short, the problem refers to a unified, indivis- ible object; and as such, is wholly within the in- tuitive sphere. For the same reason precisely, it is forever beyond a discursive tape-line, which can. only apply to measurable things. The facts plainly amount to this: The intuitive is the only competent, the only legitimate witness io6 THE self: what is it? in the case. Meanwhile, the testimony of the dis- cursive, is both wholly irrelevant and wholly in- competent to the question. Indeed, it cannot be called testimony at all; so that, as a literal fact, there is no contradiction at all. It is only a seem- ing contradiction; and this seeming results from the gratuitous intrusion of an incompetent witness. This solution meets all the vital demands of the case. In the first place, the contradiction implies two distinct cognitive powers. To be distinct, said powers must have different functions; while such functions in turn would require different ob- jects. In accord herewith, we have on the one hand, (i) a measurable object — sun and earth;. (2) physical organs for perceiving said object; and (3) comparison as the means for judging of the ob- ject. On the other hand, (4) an immaterial object — the unit motion of the system : (5) perceived without physical organs; and (6) judged of by means of contrast. These six characteristic features of the contradic- tion correspond precisely with those of the forego- ing scheme. Nor could a fuller and more definitive concurrence be required between an individual phenomenon on the one hand, and a general scheme on the other, whose vast scope includes such an endless number and variety of phenomena. Neither again can it be said, that the scheme was gotten THE TWO SPECIES OF COGNITION I07 Tip for this special contradiction; for as will be seen, it is equally ample for all phases of contra- •diction. Indeed, if any difference at all, other like phenom- ena come more nearly up to the full demands of the scheme, than the solar. The latter was select- ed, because, being so sharp and concrete, it was thought the most simple and intelligible to begin "with. Still, it has one apparently serious defect -which "will be examined presently; and which be- ing done, will leave the solution full and complete. Meanwhile, no other solution is possible, unless it be at least radically the same with the above. CONCLUDING NOTES AND EXPLANATIONS; Perhaps a still clearer image of discursive and intuitive cognition, with their respective functions •and corresponding objects, may be got by the re- spective functions and objects of the architect and carpenter. Thus, the architect begins, continues, and ends with the immaterial unit conception, house; from which he deduces his design, without the aid of either physical organs or measuring rod. Of course, the subsequent so called design, made with pencil or ink, is but a symbol of the real and original de- sign, which was a pure product of pure mind. The carpenter on the contrary, with physical or- io8 THE self: what is it? gans, acts on physical objects, by means of compar- ison — measuring rod. He begins and continues with parts; and though by a combination of parts, he finally reaches a total, yet his total is only a symbol: a symbol of the real and original house, constructed in the architect's mind. In other words, the intuitive with its peculiar functions and objects — as illustrated by the archi- tect and Copernicus, represents the immaterial phase of cognition; while the discursive with its functions and objects — as illustrated by the car- penter and the anti-Copernican doctrine, represents the material phase. But though two and' distinct, they are not antagonistic, but complemental : they are both indispensable in view of our dual existence, and would not collide if left alone. Instead, they act in concert, each aiding the other, in many in- direct respects. However, by far the greater part of cognitive phenomena abounds in contradiction; and to ex- plain this, is a vital point of inquiry. Time and again it has been pointed out, that sense being the causal and responsible element of mind, presup- poses intelligence to be passive. Moreover, all in- quiry tacitly assumes intelligence to be truthful. But it cannot be both truthful and contradictory, except on the assumption, that being passive withal, it is pervertible, and can only be perverted by an over-ruling sense. THE TWO SPECIES OF COGNITION lOg But why would sense pervert intelligence? Why, it may be asked in reply, does every criminal per- vert intelligence in attempting to justify his crime? Here is the whole question in a nut-shell. Study this out thoroughly, and you understand all con- tradiction. But as a more direct answer to the question — why sense perverts intelligence, it may be replied that all wrong action can only be referred to wrong sense impulse or motive, and which latter points in turn to human depravit}'. Then again as noted before, depravity is essential to the mind's moral economy. That is, without it, man could not do right or wrong at option; without such power, he could not be a free agent, without free agency, he could not be responsible; and without the latter, he could not be a man. This amounts to saying, intelligence in being truthful, is of necessity passive, in order to be per- vertible ; and is pervertible, in order to allow full play to depravity and free agency, without which latter, the present moral economy would be void. Or thus, to be self-controlling and yet truthful, intel- ligence could not be made to lie, and hence free agency would be inoperative. So much for the why sense perverts intellignce. Now let us see still more definitively, how it so perverts. Not so much by the powers, as by the no THE self: what IS IT? objects of cognition. That is, firstly and negative- ly, sense does not literally change the relations or functions of discursive and intuitive, nor otherwise coerce either one in its essential activity. Instead, secondly and affirmatively, it emploj^s the objects of cognition for its work; that is, by means of the object, it deceives the discursive ; and by the deception, leads it to contradict the intu- itive. In being so led out of its own sphere, its. legitimate purpose is perverted; though such per- version results from deception, and not from coer- cion. The deception more properly called illusion,, results from symbolism; while symbolism in turn,, results from confounding mind and matter. That is, by confounding mind and matter, it of- ten happens that matter is put in the place of mind: it thus becomes a symbol of miiid, and as a symbol, it presently, by illusion, passes for mind, and thus, supercedes, contradicts mind. The letter of the- law for instance, though but a symbol, yet as a symbol presently, by illusion, passes for or super- cedes the spirit of the law. A little later on, an entire chapter will be de- voted to the principle of symbolism. Suffice it- just here, that symbolism in the first degree, is a- necessity of our dual existence, and as such is harm- less; but on being too much emphasized, it results, in illusion — the symbol is mistakn for the real,, and thus siapercedes or contradicts the real. THE TWO SPECIES OF COGNITION -III Illusion so originating, deceives and misleads the discursive in one of two ways: (i) It either causes it to assume the given object of debate to be physical, when in truth it is not — as in the so- lar contradiction; else (2) it causes it to ascribe some physical predicate to the immaterial object, and thus tacitly put said object into the category of matter: as the. word infinite for instance, tacitly puts God into the category of matter. Contradic- tion will inevitably result in either case. Now then, the confounding of matter and mind — symbol and real, whereby symbolism and illusion result, is the identical means in the hands of an over-ruling sense, by which it deceives and mis- leads the discursive to contradict the intuitive. All contradiction, sophistry, falsehood, or make-believe of whatever kind, occurs in this way. Morally considered, illusions are of two kinds: First, those which may be called natural and una- voidable — as the apparent rising and setting sun. But instances of this kind are too rare to be noted as exceptions to the general rule. Secondly, those which are purposely employed for deception : as those of any deceiver of whatever kind, who em- ploys an act, word, or other outward sign to sym- bolize the truth. Such symbol, though by illusion mistaken for the truth, is yet false — it contradicts the truth ; and such contradictions can only be re- iiz THE self: what is it? ferred to vicious sense; and which phase of sense, is materialism. Why is it called materialism? Because its char- acteristic trait is to materialize and degrade mind to a level with matter. In order to the latter, its tireless and sleepless endeavor is to cancel the dis- tinction between mind and matter; for as seen above, to • accomplish this, would not only pull down the present economy of intelligence, but re- duce mind, God — every thing to a level with per- ishable matter. This is truly strange and contradictory; but not a whit more so, than vice itself. Materialism — vicious sense, in being vicious is opposed to virtu- ous sense ; and hence deaf to intelligence only in so far as it can distort the latter in a way to con- tradict the former. Otherwise than this, no plaus- ible reason can be given for the labored and cun- ning sophistries, which have ever been employed to invalidate mind. It need not be replied that knowledge, truth, and other like things are the ob- jects in view: for all such things are clearly in- volved in, and must stand or fall with mind. It is objected that the solar contradiction results from a natural and unavoidable illusion; and hence, does not come fully up to the explanation of con- tradiction, as resulting from vicious tendency. This is the apparent defect hinted at above: and though apparent, it is not really so. THE TWO SPECIES OF COGNITION II3 First, since all our frailties and abnormalities are referable to depravity, why may not the solar contradiction be likewise so referred; especiall)' since it is explicable in the same way with others, which do result from vicious tendenc)'? Moreover, the solar along with all other contra- dictions, is only possible by virtue of the provi- sion in our mental economy for the full play of de- pravity; and being thus a creature of said provision it cannot be referred otherwise than to vicious ten- dency or materialism as above explained. Besides, because a few illusions like the solar, are natural and literally unavoidable, is no excuse for the doctrine of an inexorable fate: no excuse for following any illusion to the bitter end. The same provision whereby illusions come, also opens the way for moral free agency. Moral free agency presupposes a moral rule — a moral sense, as su- preme authority in human conduct. Guided by this, illusions are powerless; while without it, we be- come the fast followers of illusion. It must be remembered as final to this chapter that an intelligence at once truthful and contradic- tory is theoretically the first and greatest of con- tradictions. -To explain this, we are necessitated to assume intelligence to be passive and pervertible: and being so, an over-ruling vicious sense is the only power that could pervert it. Hence, sense 114 THE self: what is it? causality, though having many implications, may be called the one final, universal principle for ex- plaining contradiction; one, because it refers all to one and the same source, and explains them in. one and the same way. This one principle presupposes some correlated and subservient scheme for its practical realization. The scheme of a discursive and intuitive cognition, with their respective functions and objects, is a full response to said pre-supposition. Apart from sucht pre-supposition however, the scheme, by virute of its simplicity, naturalness, and conformity to em- pirical facts, stands sufficiently grounded upon its. own merits. Altogether, the view presented by these hasty out- lines, when fully realized, must simplify intelli- gence beyond all present conceptions. By explain- ing contradiction and sophistry, by dispelling a world of intellectual myths, by enticing the reader- out to think for himself under the guidance of com- mon sense and empirical facts, this view must o£' necessity greatly simplify intelligence. And pray, why should intelligence itself not be in- telligible, since it is our only standard for judging of other things? It is a slander against intelligence, that it can only be learned by a life-time study of owlish myths and pedantries. Plainly, if intelli- gence itself be not intelligible to common sense, it THE TWO SPECIES OK COGNITION II5 is no fit standard for judging of other things. Of course, a multitude of other minor points still remain to be explained; but to do so just here, would tend to obscure the general and more vital outlines sketched above. With but a dim image of the outlines, most if not all minor details will grad- ually come out of themselves, as we proceed hence- forth — with more ease and leisure, to expand, ex- emplifj', and confirm the general structure of the system, hastily sketched off above. CHAPTER 11. OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS. At every crook and turn we are liable to be mis- led by illusions, either from without or within. Bui illusion and positive contradiction are two distinct things. Real contradiction cannot be al- lowed without disgrace to intelligence. Vision for example, may often mislead, but cannot be posi- tively contradictory: for in such case, it would not be relied on as to this or that color, and which would amount to no vision at all. So likewise of all cognition. And though contradictions are only apparent, yet they must be seen as apparent, and not real; otherwise, their harmful influence will be all the same in leading to hopeless skepticism. Having a glimpse of the question in its first and more difficult aspects, we can now look at it with more ease and profit. The last chapter shows up cognitive powers and two corresponding classes of cognizable objects. The two powers — discursive and intuitive, are each restricted to its specific function; the discursive can only compare, but not contrast; the intuitive 116 OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS II7 can contrast, but not compare. Meanwhile, they are not restricted in respect of their objects. Though each has its own specific class of objects, yet turning away from these, each can meddle with objects beyond its own legitimate limits. To do this, the given object in any case must be falsely assumed to belong to the sphere of the one med- dling. The discursive for instance, in order to reach an immaterial object, must falsely assume said object to be material; else assume it to possess some material trait, whereby it may be degraded to a material basis. Contrariwise, the intuitive must assume the given physical obiect to be imma- terial or to possess some immaterial trait. In either case, contradiction results from the meddling of the one with the objects of the other; yet without this possibility, there would be no room for sym- bolism, nor illusion, nor a consequent pervertible intelligence. In the last chapter, we glanced at several in- stances of discursive contradiction; and now in turn, it may be seen how the intuitive also causes contradiction by over-stepping its limits. A square inch of space for instance, is a measurable and ex- tensive quantity, divisible to infinity, and hence be- longs to the discursive sphere. Yet the intuitive may assume a square inch of space to be a definitive, unit quantity, and as such, to be intensive, indi- visible, etc., like an immaterial object. ii8 THE self: what is it? Here we have the contradiction of infinite and finite, in one and the same object. Looked at ex- tensively, a square inch is divisible and infinite; yet looked at intensively,it is a definitive, indivisible unit. Though positively contradictory, both asser- tions are positively true, according to the two standpoints. In this instance, the discursive is true, and the contradiction results from the incom- petency of the intuitive to handle physical objects; so that, as in the solar instance, there is really no contradiction at all. It is only a seeming one, caused by intuitive incompetency to the special question. It is needless to specify any other in- stance ; of course, an indefinite number of other like contradictions might occur, respecting any quan- tity or phase, of either matter, space, or time. It must be noted however, that though intuitive contradictions may be numerous and often quite per- plexing, they are yet harmless as contrasted with those of the discursive. The intuitive, by assuming matter to be endowed with mental properties, exalts matter; but not at the expense of mind. Whereas, the discursive, by assuming mind to be endowed with physical properties, materializes and degrades mind ; indeed, the tendency and final result is, to repudiate mind with all its implications. Hence, though the intuitive just like the discur- sive, causes contradiction by attempting improper OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS II9 objects, yet its improprieties in this respect, have no moral and very little practical significance. It is ■noted here for its theoretical import onlj-: that is, to show up the theoretical consistency and harmony of the foregoing exposition respecting contradic- tion, as regards both the discursive and intuitive, By showing up the ground of all possible contra- ■diction, the said exposition not only fully vindicates the integrity of intelligence, but also fully exposes materialism. This latter* especially on account of its moral phase, has been — either consciously or unconsciously, the chief perplexity and burden of philosophy from the beginning. David Hume, more perhaps than the average thinker, was sorely perplexed by contradictions. He noted them in every question that caught his attention; but never attempted to reconcile them. Instead, his attempt was to exaggerate them; and which doubtless, largely accounts for his universal skepticism. Plato on the contrary, never seemed in the least annoyed or chafed by contradictions. At times in- deed, he employed them as playthings for amusing himself. In Parmenides for instance, he presents an indefinite number, extracted from the concep- tions, one and many, whole and parts, same and •different, etc. And though he made no attempt to explain the ground of contradiction; yet, his I20 THE self: what IS IT? direct and equable procedure through a host of riddles to the clear and final results of Parmenides, shows at least great practical dexterity in handling such things. But Kant perhaps has written more about contra- diction, than any other noted author. The space so devoted first and last in the Critique, is greater than that of this entire volume. Yet, in justice to his great sagacity, as well as to the interests of truth, it must be said, he'did not really study con- tradiction /^/- Ji?/ but taking them for granted, very laboriously employed them as an instrument, for proving a certain favorite theory to be noted later on. Justice to truth also requires it to be said, that while Kant elsewhere and very often makes a sharp distinction between understanding and reason; yet on approaching the four great contradictions, which, he called antinomies, he wholly ignores said dis- tinction: instead of two distinct cognitive powers, with differing functions, he has but one, which one he calls reason. As a both necessary and disastrous- result, he was finally driven to assume, that reason is contradictory in itself; nay, that it is contradic- tory from the very necessity of its innate constitu- tion. He makes reason say with one breath: There is a God; and with the next: There is no God. Here. OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS 121 by, reason cancels itself; and hence, logically enough as Kant claimed, reason cannot prove the existence of God. On the same ground, he might have added, reason cannot prove any thing j though he only held it to be contradictory respecting the four great antinomies as he called them. With such a start, it need not be said, that his solution was far darker than the contradictions themselves; nor would three volumes like this, suffice to explain his solutions with their incidental contradictions. Later on, however, we will see the cause, and can then better excuse his misad- ventures in the matter. The object now and here, is not to discuss Kant's treatment of the antinomies; but simply to test the truth of our own foregoing exposition of contradic- tion, by applying it to Kant's four antinomies; for being as he claims the four most difficult contradic- tions, they ought to suffice as a test, for any scheme of explanation. Let them be glanced at individually, and in the same order which Kant followed. The point to be watched in each case, is the undeniable manifes- tation of two distinct cognitive poweis, with their respective functions and objects; each one true according to its standpoint, though positively con- tradictory; and, in short, watch for all the essen. tial phenomena manifested in the solar co.ntradic- 122 THE self: WH^T IS IT? tion. Space will not admit of Kant's elaborate presentation ; so, let each be taken as briefly as can be, but in its literal substance. First Antinomy. Thesis: The world had a beginning. Antithesis: The world had no beginning. Here is a positive contradiction; and according to our solution, it implies two distinct intelligences, endowed with differing functions, and looking at different objects. To see the two intelligences — discursive and intuitive, with their respective func- tions and objects, let each one speak for itself; speak enough only, to indicate its functions and objects. Firstly, the discursive speaks: The world in- cludes matter, time, and space, any one of which is infinite: but if infinite in respect of time only, it must have existed always, and could not have had any beginning. To which the intuitive replies: The world, as consisting of matter, is an extensive quantity; and as such, is divisible, perishable, and dependent. Being dependent, it must depend upon some inde- pendent cause as its creator; and in havmg a crea- tor, it must have had a beginning. Second Antinomy. Thesis: There is an ultimate, simple substance. OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS 1 23 Antithesis: There is no ultimate simple substance. The discursive says: Every thing has extent, di- visibility, parts, etc. The universe and even God, are made up of parts, and hence there can be no ultimate simple substance. The intuitive replies: All immaterial objects are incomparable, intensive, indivisible, etc, and though liaving logical parts, can have no literally divisible parts: all such things are ultimate, and as such are simple substance. Third Antinomy, Thesis: There is such a thing as freedom. Antithesis: There is no such thing as freedom. The discursive says : Every thing that happens has a cause; and in being so influenced by some- thing exterior to itself,it is under laws of necessity: mo such thing can be free. The intuitive replies: Besides material and per- ishable things, which are under laws of necessity, there are also immaterial powers, which act at op- tion — as illustrated in the conception responsibility for instance. These powers act in and for them- selves, not only controlling themselves, but to a •certain extent, controlling dead matter, as well as the necessary laws which control dead matter. Such discretionary activity necessarily implies freedom. 124 '^'"^ SELF: WHAT IS IT? Fourth Antinomy. Thesis : There is a God, as prime cause of the universe. Antithesis : There is no God, as prime cause of the universe. The discursive says: (i) Matter, time, and space being infinite, had no beginning; and hence no need of God as a cause. Besides (2) since nothing can happen without a cause, there is no reason why- God could exist without a cause. The intuitive replies: (i) The word infinite applies to divisible things; and at the most, but represents our inability to see an end to the divisibility of such things: it is a non-entity in itself, and as such, cannot hinder the existence of any thing, much less that of God. Besides (2) the same neces- sity which requires a cause for all causable things, with a still more rigorous necessity, requires anun- causable Cause for the origin and support of all causable ^nd dependent things. Contingent causes and effects themselves would be void and meaning- less, without an uncausable Cause to first vitalize and start them into activity; fully as much, as would be a last without a first; or an ending without a beginning; or a stream, without a fountain. So much for the four antinomies. In essential respects they are plainly identical with the solar OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS 1 25 and all other contradictions. Like others they imply two distinct agents or cognitive powers. These latter being distinct, presuppose distinct lunctions; which distinct functions, presuppose distinct objects corresponding to each. This view is confirmed by the uniform and logically consistent procedure of each one through the several problems; for, though each is consistent and truthful from its standpoint, they are directly opposed in final re- sults. To be truthful, yet contradictory, is inexplicable except on the assumption of some mistake; some mistake respecting the object. One of the two has been misled by some mistake out of its legitimate sphere; and being out, is incompetent to the special problem. The shortest way to find out the incom- petent intruder, is to find out the sphere to which the given problem belongs. The first one — beginning of the world, is not about the physical elements of the world, but about its beginning. That is, about the power which brought it into existence: was it by virtue of its own, or by some power exterior to itself? Now, power is an immaterial object, and as such belongs exclusively to the intuitive sphere. For the same reason, it is beyond discursive perception, which can only see material objects. Yet, the illusion of mistaking the symbol for the total and real — that 126 THE self: what is it? is, the physical elements, for the power which orig- inated the world, lured the discursive out of its. sphere, just as in the solar contradiction. Precisely the same is true of the other three, simple substance, freedom and God. Simple sub- stance is the very opposite of divisible materiality. Freedom — the power to do or not to do at option, is predicable of mind only. While God is the very personification of mind or immateriality. Hence,, each one belongs exclusively to the intuitive sphere. Yet, since each may be variously illustrated or sym- bolized by matter, the illusion of mistaking such, symbol for the real object, lures the discursive ta express its opinion on a purely immaterial ques- tion, and of course in opposition to the intuitive. In brief, being restricted to the five sense per- ceptions, the discursive is necessarily restricted to material objects; and hence, has neither ability nor right to an opinion on either of the four ques- tions. Being thus wholly incompetent, its gratui- tous and irrelevant opinions, amount to no opin- ion at all: there is in literal reality, no contradic- tion in either of the four instances : no more than in the case of the ear contradicting the eye about color. Indeed, the same may be said in a wholesale way, of all instances, in which the discursive con- tradicts the intuitive about any question of imma- OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS 12/ terial elements. And since such instances are sim- ply endless, it is strange that Kant should recog- nize but four; for, being all explicable in one and the same way, they ought either to be called one; else, being counted individually, they might be called infinite. Now then, to have but one cognitive power, which power is contradictory in itself, what becomes of human knowledge? With one breath it says: There is a God; and with the next: There is no God. With one breath it says: The sun rises and sets; and with the next : The sun does not rise and set. At this rate, knowledge would be positive nescience, or still worse, it would be contradiction person- ified. Whereas, to assume two cognitive powers with their respective appointments as indicated above, at once explains contradiction, clears up the integ- rity of intelligence, and withal exposes materialism ; exposes vicious sense as the real perverter of intelli- gence. This latter, which may be called the climax or upshot of the scheme, admits of no doubt or dis- pute : every hour of waking existence, we either see, or hear, or read of some instance in which vi- cious sense perverts intelligence in attempts to jus- tify its vicious deeds. It is moreover just as evident, that vicious sense does not coerce or distort the radical functions of 128 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? intelligence — for this would invalidate its integrity; instead, it employs deception. By means of some illusive object, it lures one or the other cognitive power out of its legitimate sphere, and thus causes collision. Neither again can this be doubted or disputed; insomuch; it may be laid down as a prin- ciple without exception, that symbolism or make- believe is the universal trick employed by every phase of deceit, fraud, lies, hypocrisy, false pre- tense, sophistry, or other form of contradiction. In every such case, it is the illusion of mistak- ing the make-believe for the true — the symbol for the real, which supercedes or contradicts the true and the real. Or in still other words, every con- ceivable phase of falsehood, is but a make-believe or symbol of the truth; and as a symbol, being mis- taken for the truth, it takes the place, supercedes, contradicts the truth. Now then, all the foregoing about the solar and Kant's four contradictions, only meant to point out the undeniable, empirical fact, that illusive sym- bolism is the one universal instrument in the hands of vicious sense — materialism, whereby all falsehood and contradiction are brought aboiit; while this principle of illusive symbolism in turn, results from confounding mind and matter. Then the author was not extravagant in the last chapter, when attempting to properly emphasize OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS _ 1 29 the infinite necessity of a clear distinction between mind and matter. Indeed, the author was then, and is yet, utterly impotent, to fully impress an un- iamiliar mind with the vast import of this distinc- tion. It can only be realized little by little, with the aid of earnest practical observation. As another attempt in this direction, let us in the close of this chapter, note a few hints suggested here and now. To see how the most brilliant and unsuspicious word or sentence, may blur over the distinction and lead into error, take this common- place child's question: "Mother, who made God?" This seems a harmless question; yet, starting out on it, we can never find any God. Why? Simply because it assumes God to be in the category of matter at the very start: it assumes God to be the one link in an infinite series of physical causes and effects, and thus excludes all possibilit}', either of a beginning, or of a God. Again, every thing must have a cause. Here, the word every implies each individual of an in- finite series, and by tacitly including God in the series, it materializes and denies God. Though dif- fering in form, it is substantially the same with the first instance. On the other side, take this: The universe can- not exist without a God for its support. This does not stealthily imply divisibility or other physical 130 _ THE self: what is it? trait in God; it is a unit, all-embracing proposition, which points out God as an absolute necessity. Again, can any effect occur without a cause? Th& word any implies adlness and unity: as such, it ex- cludes all phj'sical implications, and points to God as the prime and necessary Cause. The word infinite has already been noticed for its illusive subtlety. The same may be said of • eternal, omnipresent, and other kindred words. They are only predicable of the extent or divisibility of. matter, time and space. If we had no other suita- ble words, then as a last alternative, these might be applied to God, provided it be done in a rigor- ously intensive sense; but the constant tendency is, to employ them extensively, and hereby they materialize and contradict God. The difference of the two words may be illustrated thus: The President of the United States, exten- sively — physically considered, is restricted to the Capitol ; but intensively considered — as the imma- terial head of the nation, he is literally present with, each and all the individual citizens of the nation. In this latter sense, God is present to every individ- ual thing in the universe; but the word omnipresent with its extensive import, makes God physical. Alas! alas! water is not more prone tO'godown hill, than we are to make distinctions; to make infinite hair-spliting distinctions about intellectual mytb& OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS 13I or Other like empty nothings ; but here at the great equator of all thought — the distinction between mind and matter, we seem to become stone-blind, unable to distinguish a mole hill from a mountain. What wonder then, that the world's perpetual ten- dency is to blind pagan idolatry? What is idolatry, and how does it come about? Plainly, it is the fullest concrete expression of ma- terialism. Its phenomena are identical with that of contradiction and falsehood, as above indicated, and result from confounding the mind or God idea with that of matter. Such confounding of the two, re- sults in an indefinite symbolism, whereby one phys- ical trait after another is ascribed to God, until fi- nally, the conception is materialized down to pure dead matter — as a wooden image; which image or symbol, supercedes — contradicts the real God. Superstition is the same with idolatry; a cloth" ing of the God or mind idea with physical raiment until the said idea is smothered out. This differ- ence only, some phases of superstition might be called idolatry intensified to such a pitch, that its gravitation turns the other way. That is, having fully canceled the mind idea, yet being none the less necessitated to assume mind attributes, it here- upon ascribes such attributes to inanimate objects, which latter thus become endowed with magical powers, or what not. 132 THE self: what is it? Beyond question, idolatry and superstition are but duplicates— but practical illustrations of theo- retical materialism. The materialist, precisely like the idolater, pulls down the mind or God idea, and with the debris builds up matter: denies mind/i?;- se, yet refers all its phenomena to matter — makes mind a product of matter, which latter hereby be- comes the prime cause and sole god. There is this difference between the two however, the pagan idol- ater is but a layman, while the professional mate- rialist is the high priest of one and the same gos- pel. There is perhaps a still greater difference between the zeal of the two: the zeal of the layman rarely ever urges him to the extremity of sacrificing even his physical body for his self-made god; but that of the unselfish high priest, transcends this — trans- cends that of all religionists. In theory at least, he sacrifices immortality, heaven, God — annihilates himself, at the savage shrine of his self-made god. Otherwise than this, idolatry and superstition are but practical illustrations of theoretical mate- rialism. Nor is it strange that the materialist, in view of this evident fact, will turn about and bit- terly chide the religious sentiment, for being the cause of idolatry and superstition. Materialism begins, continues, and ends in contradiction ; it is the maker of contradictions; and hence, no wonder OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS 1 33 in the present case, that it repudiates its own two children, idolatry and superstition. CHAPTER III. DISCURSIVE COGNITION. The inquiry henceforth will seem in some sort desultory: yet each question discussed will have direct reference to the outlines sketched off in the chapter before the last. According to common assumption, discursive cog- nition pretty well represents the sum-total of solid and valid knowledge; all after that being regarded as visionary and uncertain. The assumption tacitly says: Give me the five sense perceptions, and you are welcome to all the rest. At this rate, the discursive ought to have some other distinctive function besides comparison, which latter is but a plodding, tape-line procedure. Ac- cordingly, the first object of this chapter is to in- quire, if it have any distinctive trait other than comparison; meanwhile, a second object is, to get a clearer insight into the principje of symbolism, which plays such an officious part in contradiction. Just here, in the first edition of this book, refei- ence was made to Kant's categories, which he lo- cates in the understanding; and which latter corre- 134 DISCURSIVE COGNITION I35 spends somewhat to our word discursive. Theoret- ically, his' categories imply much more than simple comparison] but as practically employed by him, they amount to little else than measuring instru- ments. The difference is not enough at least, to justify any notice here; and so they may be omitted from this edition. IMITATION. It is a common, yet great mistake to regard imi- tation as a phase of the esthetic faculty called taste. The two are direct opposites. Taste does Tiot and cannot imitate. Its distinctive trait is to give out original beauty from itself; while that of imitation is to copy originals — originals of beauty ■or otherwise. Taste is spontaneous; imitation is reflected light. At the very most, imitation is an attempt to re- produce a given original, by making a resemblance, copy, or symbol of it. Such copy or symbol can only be made by a measuring comparison; and -which points out the plain fact, that imitation is but an implication of comparison. In a previous illustration of architect and carpenter, it was noted that the latter employs a measuring comparison — a tape-line. But whereunto? Simply in order to imitate the architect: that is, to make a copy or symbol of the architect's design. So that, com- 136 THE self: what is it? parison culminates in imitation; and imitation, in symbolism. Imitation being thus included in — being the up- shot of comparison, adds aothing new to discursive cognition. The discursive still remains the discur- sive, with comparison as its only distinctive func- tion; and which at once satisfies the first inquiry of this chapter. But imitation brings us to symbol- ism, and symbolism is the second inquiry of the chapter; indeed, according to the last two chap- ters, it is a most vital point of the general inquiry. Symbolism introduces us to a new and vast world of shadowy objects; which though dream-like and shadowy, yet have a real and deep influence on hu- man character; and are indeed indispensable to the last two chapters. To get started in this dreamland let the state- ment just above be added to, thus : Comparison culminates in imitation; imitation, in S3'mbolism;. and symbolism, in illusion. The latter — illusion, is the mistaking of the symbol for the real, original object. Do not infer however, that illusion of ne- cessity results from every instance of symbolism. Instead, it results from carelessly confounding the symbol with the original ; or which is the same in other words, carelessly confounding matter and -mind. Doubtless the reader is tired of the emphasis DISCURSIVE COGNITION 1 37 put upon the confounding of matter and mind; and perhaps thinks that the principle of symbolism de- duced therefrom, as a vital condition of contradic- tion, is far-fetched and labored. However, to mend matters, the present object is to show, that this same principle of symbolism — as a result from con- founding matter and mind, is not only true in the- oretical questions like those of the last two chap- ters; but is, if not the greatest, at least among the greatest practical influences on human character. The principle as an abstraction, has an indefinite number of phases in its practical manifestations. It represents that vast phenomena variously called symbol, copy, likeness, image, ritual, ceremony, emblem, duplicate, illustration, appearance, sham, red-tape, make-believe, counterfeit, falsehood — all phenomena, in which one thing substitutes or rep- resents another. However various the phases, they are all one and the same in this: each one repre- sents something other than itself — something which is real, original and true. Now plainly, by far the greater part of practical human life is devoted to one or other of these phases of symbolism. The tendency to symbolize, runs through every vein and artery of individual and collective activity. It shows itself in the ear- liest dawn of childhood: as in the dolls and mimic houses of little girls and boys. It continues on up 138 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT? to maturity; indeed, through life to death, alike with rich and poor, wise and foolish, virtuous and vicious. For instance, ritual, though essential, has ever "been the greatest and most harmful burden of re- ligion; insomuch, many of its votaries mistaking the ritual for the reality, never get one distinct glimpse of the latter. Social usages, especially those of fashionable life, consist almost wholly of pure ritual — make believe appearances. Civil tribunals devote most of their time to the ritual or letter of the law, at. the expense of its spirit. Political economy oc- cupies itself with money and education — mere sym- bols of national prosperity. In brief, the great mass of mankind, in the ap- pointments of their houses, .dresses, conduct, occu- pations, aspirations — in everything, are taken up ■with appearances — ritual, to such a degree, that they go through life as through a dream, without any distinct glimpse of reality. To this may be added as a climax, that a large class of people are but professional ritualists, who devote themselves exclusively to the business of a make-believe life; as dudes for instance. Also materialists, who even deny everything except the physical or symbolic part of existence. We are all more or less liable to unduly empha- size the ritual at the expense of the real. It is vain DISCURSIVE COGNITION 1 39 to look around for exceptions. One would naturally •enough turn to philosophy, whose especial mission it is to search out reality to the very heart; but philosophy is no exception. On the contrary, it lias few rivals in the business of ritual; certainly BO superior, unless may be modern physics. But we are upon the wrong end of the inquiry. Instead of trying to find out where ritualism is, it is a much shorter route to find out where it is not. There is no such spot; for where ever reality is, or has been, there also imitation will be with its rit- ual or symbol. Symbol being but a mimic of the real, can only exist where the real is; while the ex- istence of the real, makes the symbol a necessity; a necessity by virtue of our dual — our material and immaterial natures. This is but a glance at the vast world of symbol- ism, as manifested in practical life ; but it suffices to show that it is quite universal in practical re- spects. But being universal it is not of necessity "wrong or harmful in the first degree : in this first degree it results from our dual nature of matter and mind — a symbolic and real existence. The harm consists in emphasizing the symbol to such a de- gree as to hide the real, and cause contradiction. The practical universality of symbolism as just seen, illustrates and demonstrates the last two chap- ters; which assume, that the confounding of mind 140 THE self: what is it? and matter, results in symbolism; that symbolism results in illusion; and illusion — mistaking the sym- bol for the real, leads to contradiction. Precisely this and no more nor less than this, was seen re- specting the solar and Kant's four contradictions. ■ Contrast these latter with any phase of practical life. As an example of the highest phase, the rit- ual_ or symbols of religion for instance, being too much emphasized, are presently mistaken for the reality — for religion itself; and in being so mis- taken, they supercede and contradict the reality re- ligion. Then as the lowest phase of practical life, what is any lie, or what are all lies, but make-be- lieve symbols of the truth ; which being mistakea for the truth, contradict the truth? Thus, the principle of symbolism withjts conse- quent illusions, enters into all forms of contradic- tions, whether those of thoretical speculation, or those of practical life. Hence, it may be repeated again ani again: Despite a causal and vicious sense, despite a passive and pervertible intelli- gence, contradiction could never occur, without il- lusion, nor illusion without symbolism, nor symbol- ism without confounding matter and mind. What is the result? Among many others, this notably : we are compelled, whether or not, to see matter in its totality, as but a symbol; that is, a symbol relatively to mind, which latter of equal DISCURSIVE COGNITION I4I necessity, becomes the real, the original, and the true element of existence. As mere symbol, matter partakes of all the properties of a symbol; it is a transient copy, image, make-believe — indeed, being unduly emphasized, it is a positive falsehood, rela- tively to mind as the real and original. To be sure, matter is an indispensable condition to the manifestation of mind in a physical exist- ence; but it does not follow, that matter is a part of mind, or that it is indispensable to the existence of mind in any other state. Because certain phys- ical machinery is required for certain manifestations of electricity, it does not follow that said machin- ery is a part of electricity, or that it is indispensa- ble to its existence. Now, along with matter and mind — symbol and Teal, as representing the sum total of cognizable objects, let us connect the cognitive powers. The discursive, in being restricted to symbolic matter, is but an imitator, and as such represents the sym- bolic phase of existence. The intuitive, in being restricted to mind, represents the real and imma- terial phase. The intuitive, for example, makes the design of a house; which design, is not only the original and real house, but without which, the subsequent phys- ical symbol could never be constructed. Meanwhile, without an imitating discursive, the said original 142 THE self: what is it? design, could never be symbolized — materialized for physical experience; so that, both the designing; intuitive and the imitative discursive are indispen- sable to our dual existence. Without the intuitive in brief, there could be n» design of a house, ship, telegraph — nothing of a real kind could be known to us; while -without the discursive, said real thing could hot be symbolized — materialized for physical experience. Hence, under the present regime, all human ac- tivity implies both designer and imitator, with their respective products, design and symbol. The great- est or the least action — whether the construction of a world or that of a pig-sty, equally imply a de- signer and an imitator, with their products, design and symbol. But note, the design is of necessity anterior to and independent of the symbol. With- out an anterior design, the imitator could never make a start; indeed, one stroke by the imitator without a design as his model — without some defi- nite object in view, would be an act of insanity: that is, mind as the real, must be anterior to and independent of the symbol matter; and the design- ing intuitive must be anterior to and independent, of the imitating discursive. Then, can anything be more absurd, can any thing be a greater outrage to common sense, than to see the symbol only, and deny the design ; see; DISCURSIVE COGNITION I43 matter only and deny mind; see the make-believe part of existence only, and deny the real, imperish- able, and incalculably higher phase? Yet, this is precisely what the materialist does. And why? Because he emphasizes the symbol to such a degree, that i;t hides and contradicts the real. We can now perhaps begin to see contradiction — materialism in its totality and universality. Originating primarily from a causal and vicious sense, it -perverts a passive intelligence. But how? By confounding mind and matter, whence results symbolism, whence results illusion, and which leads the discursive to contradict the intuitive. A little back it was seen, that comparison and contrast as cognitive functions, with comparable and contrastable as corresponding traits of cogniza- ble objects, all four afHrm vehemently and harmo- niously, that the great distinction implied innately in themselves — the distinction between mind and matter, is the one central idea of our economy of cognition; that our condition is what it is, by virtue of said distinction, and could not exist without it. This would seem enough respecting the distinc- tion between mind and matter. But no. Now in this chapter, as if to be certain of making the gulf between the two still more impassable, the rudi- mental elements of cognition come forward again: they compel us whether or not, to see mind as the 144 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT? real and original phase of existence, and matter as a mere symbol of said reality. And is this all? Nay, indeed: if we ignore this fact of symbol and real ; if we dare to dignify mat- ter one hair's breadth above the humble relation of symbol, the machinery of cognition is thereby in stantly perverted and contradiction results. Where- as, if matter be kept rigorously in its relation of symbol in the first degree, the door is closed against all forms of contradiction; and that too, despite all other conditions. Instead and on the other hand, however, let us see how easily contradiction may occur. First, the discursive can only see matter, and hence is nat- urally prone to deny mind. Second, as seen above, the discursive at its best, is but a professional sym- bol-maker, its chief work being to materialize in- tuitive designs into physical forms. Now add to this the fact, that intelligence is wholly passive, and it is at once plain, that it requires but a bare wink from an over-ruling sense to put the discursive in direct collision with the intuitive, on no matter what problem; insomuch in fact, that a slight spur- ring from sense will urge the discursive to deny mind altogether. This is but another way of saying, that a man may cultivate the five senses to such a degree, and meanwhile so suppress all the others, as to finally CISCURSIVE COGNITION HS Tsecome utterly blind to everything except matter; and this is all that is meant above, by magnifying the symbol matter, until it wholly hides the reality mind. To see this illustrated to the most subtle -and far-reaching degree, it is well just here before 'quitting the question of symbolism, to briefly no- tice the process by which the cause and effect prin- •ciple is reversed. There are four distinct stages in this process, -each of which is introduced by this same illusion of mistaking the symbol for the real, (i) The human body for example, which is but a symbol, is assumed to be the real man. (2) Since this real Tnan — this physical symbol, begins existence as a xnere germ, and by the addition of atom to atom, presently grows up to wholeness, it is thence in- ferred, that atoms or parts by combination make "\vholes. (3) Physical wholes and parts, which tut symbolize the principle of cause and effect, are ^nistaken for the latter. And (4) seeing that parts by combination make wholes, it follows that com- bined effects make causes. Now, though only physical elements are explic- itly recognized in this illusive jugglery, yet by stealthy implication, the mind principle is included in the end; so that as final result, a reversed caus- ality has universal application. That is, in all cases, whether of mind or matter,. reversed causality 146 THE self: what IS IT? Stands good; in all, combined parts make wholes^ and combined effects make causes; insomuch, eveni God is but an effect of combined atoms; while ac- cording to the latest gospel of materialism, man is but an effect of combined insects, reptiles, and what not. Plainly enough as before said, a reversed causality reverses the entire machinery of cognition; and in. so doing, it becomes the most potent instrument of materialism. It is to materialism m-uch the same, that the distinction between mind and matter is ta orthodox philosophy ; the one is an equator of false- hood; the other an equator of truth. By itself however, reversed causality would amount: to but little: it requires the aid of a correspond- ingly reversed method of inquiry. That is, a so- called synthesis is made to supercede analysis; so that, instead of beginning inquiry in any given case, with the total object as analysis requires, syn- thesis on the contrary begins with infinitesimal parts; and by combining said parts, conspires with. a reversed causality, in deriving wholes from parts, and causes from effects. But this reversed method by means of synthesis, requires special attention, and will be amply noticed in the next chapter. Now, though we cannot know anything more pos- itively, than that causes must precede and originate- effects, and hence that reversed causality is an illu- DISCURSIVE COGNITION I47 sive falsehood; still, the illusions leading to it are so subtle and beguiling, as to justify a few reflec- tions in passing. First then, the four assumptions leading to re- versed causality, are illusive and groundless at the start. That is, the discursive, which is the judge in each of the four cases, can only see matter; and being hence utterly blind to the principles of life, growth, mind, etc., has neither right nor compe- tency to even an opinion on such questions. Next, it is undeniable, both from an intuitive and a strict- ly discursive standpoint, that matter per se is pas- sive and dead; that it can only act as it is acted; on; and hence, cannot grow in the sense implied.. Instead^ all so-called animal and vegetable growth, is but a process of building, much the same with that of building a house. It is a process in which, the life principle of the given animal or plant, employs passive atoms of matter, just as the mason does brick, and by adding atom to atom, presently builds up a house around itself. If the house is builded, so is the animal or plant builded; and just as the house is impossible with' out an antecedent design and builder, so is the an- imal or plant organism. In other words, all growth or building of neces- sity presupposes an active mind or life agent, as the builder or cause. This agent of course, must 148 'XHE self: what is it? have materials wherewith to build. The said ma- terials are but passive atoms of matter, which by addition, finally result in the desired object. Now then, ignoring the active agent or builder, and only seeing a combination of passive parts, the discur- sive mistakes said parts for the real builder, and hence infers, that combined parts /^r Jif build or make the whole. The last two illusions are less noticeable and thereby the more subtle: first, physical wholes and parts — which are but symbols of the cause and effect principle, are mistaken for said principle; and second, since combined parts make the whole, so also combined effects make the cause. But because the relation between physical wholes an 1 parts, in some sort symbolizes that between cause and effect, it does not follow, that the two are the same in any vital respect, any more than that the symbol matter is the same with mind. That is, it is false in the first place, to say that parts make wholes; but even allowing it to be true in physical phenomena, it would not thence follow, that effects make causes. Wholes and parts, as exiensive quantities, are what they are by virtue of comparison: either one may be changed by addition or subtraction. But the principle of cause and effect, as an intensive quan- tity, is what it is by virtue of itself, and cmnot be DISCURSIVE COGNITION I49 changed by addition or subtraction. The number ten intensively considered for instance, cannot be changed one whit without annihilation; but its ex- tensive symbol — as ten oranges may be changed in- definitely. Intensively, neither causes nor effects can be com- bined ; or were it otherwise, the result would show no increase. Were it possible to combine all brute minds as causes for instance, or their aggregate intelligence as effects, in neither case would the sum total equal those of one man. That is, no two essences can be combined: memory for instance cannot be combined into reason, nor contrariwise; nor virtue into vice; nor truth into faleshood; and so, neither can effects be combined into causes. We only imagine otherwise, by stupidly confound- ing mind and matter — the intensive real, with the extensive symbol. In brief, an apparently reversed causality is refer- able to the illusions of confounding the symbol with the real, by an incompetent discursive cogni- tion; while on the other hand, nothing is more positively certain, than that causes precede and produce effects. Hence, reversed causality — the chief and most subtle . agency of materialism, but illustrates and demonstrates the foregoing solution of contradiction, especially as respecis cognizable objects: viz., That contradiction results from con- 150 THE self: what is it? founding matter and mind, and thence mistaking the symbol matter for the reality mind. PHYSICS. The last section shows, that illusion, symbolism, and imitation flow directly from comparison, and in no wise imply any new distinctive function for discursive cognition. But it is commonly assumed, that the discursive attains i»s highest glory in phys- ics; and hence, may perhaps in this latter sphere, manifest some other and higher power than that of comparison. This results from the common mis- take, that physical science is the outcome of a bit by bit combination of parts, picked up here or there from physical phenomena. Though this is true as respects the mechanical process implied, it ignores the very marrow of the question. These so-called parts of science could not cohere, without some cohesive principle to bind them to- gether. Indeed, they could not even be found in the first place, without some such principle as a means of identification. Indiscriminate parts, picked up and put together in a pell-mell way, would only amount to so much debris. There must be some reason or guiding principle for rational combina- tion. Such reason must be some kinship, some common bond of relation among said parts, where- .by they are all bound together in unity. And this DISCURSIVE COGNITION 151 bond of relation, which includes everything in the :given science, is commonly called its fundamental principle. This principle let it be noted, must exist before and independently of the parts to be so combined; otherwise the combination could never begin: sci- ■ence could never get started. Of course, two or more facts quite often, first suggest and call out this fundamental principle; still, the principle must have first existed in the observer's mind, else it could not be called out. Otherwise in truth, the said facts would be void: quite as void as color would be without a responsive vision. If bare facts could primarily originate and impart the funda- mental principle to the observer, then savages — in- ■deed dumb brutes, aided by the same facts, might also construct sciences. Besides, the fundamental principle is not a phys- ical something, but a simple relationship between different objects; it is a pure abstraction, and as £uch, is a pure product of pure intelligence. Now plainly, without such principle, science would be impossible; all the individual facts of xiature would stand as so many unrelated parts without coherent meaning. Hence, the principle •with its implications, is the total real science; while the concrete parts, which get their meaning and unity from it, are but a symbol of it, just as 152 THE self: what is it? the physical house is a symbol of the design where- by it is constructed. As said a few pages back, all rational activity, whether of body or mind, presupposes some pur- pose or design, which design, as model or guiding chart, must exist prior to and independent of the: activity. This design is the original and real thing, in the given case; while the concrete events or ac- tivities but symbolize the ,said reality. So in the- other case ; the fundamental principle, as the de- sign, or end, or goal, in which all the concrete parts converge, is the real science; while the said parts, are but its symbol. In other words, a scientific procedure, whether as to acts, facts, or otherwise, amounts to no more than a proper adjustment of proper means to a, given end. The getting up of a breakfast by the proper adjustment of proper means, is as scientific- as any other; and in all cases, the end is the re- ality, while the correlated parts are the symbol. These reflections lead to several plain inferences. (i) Science is not restricted to a few branches of physics, as materialism would make believe; but. is the very essence of all rational thought and ac- tivity. Neither is it primarily a superhuman some- thing, springing spontaneously up from nature, above and independent of the human mind. In- stead, science is science, only in so far as it con- DISCURSIVE COGNITION I53 forms to the laws of human intelligence, otherwise called logic or common sense. (2) The fundamental principle with its implica- tions — a pure product of mind, is the real indivisi- ble science, consisting may be of logical, but not of lileral paiTts; while all concrete illustrations are but illustrations or symbols of the reality. And (3), coming to the inquiry of this section, discursive cognition, which gathers up the concrete parts here or there, only illustrates real science, as the carpenter illustrates the architect's design. In physics then, the discursive is still an imitator or symbolizer as in all other cases. How absurd then, the common expression : I believe nothing except my five senses. It for- gets that the five senses themselves are a part of the mind, and as such are as incognizable to physical organs, as any other phase of mind. What is the proof then of their superior validity? None earthly, except the other like thoughtless as- sumption, that the objects of the five senses have greater reality than the others. But physical ob- jects are not as real and certain as immaterial ones. We cannot be so certain of house, tree or mountain, as we are of justice, truth, science, love, happiness, etc. ; if for nothing else, because the former are useless except as means for realizing the latter. However, the discursive is indispensable in its 154 '^'^^ self: what is it? proper sphere. It is the sole and supreme authority- respecting all concrete physical phenomena. But when such phenomena loses its individuality, by being generalized or otherwise elevated fr-om a con- crete to an abstract plane of thought, it at once becomes intuitive property. This shows up the two, in the same relation as seen all along. The discursive represents the physical or symbolic phase of existence; the intuitive represents the immate- rial and real phase. But by shifting the standpoint, Yfd may perhaps see the relation between the two ■with greater clearness. A PRACTICAL ILLUSTRATION. A little examination will show, that Lord Bacon never devoted any specific attention, to the specific method of inquiry. Instead of method, his atten- tion was occupied with the objects of inquiry ; with the objects, as respects their relative worth. He advocated what he called practical questions, as against those of a theoretical kind. Practical ques- tions he claims, tend to the e very-day well being of man; while theoretical ones are visionary and fruitless. To be sure, he put great emphasis upon the words induction and deduction, which, like the similar words synthesis and analysis, imply two distinct methods of inquiry. Still, it is obvious throughout. DISCURSIVE COGNITION 155 that, instead of method, he was occupied with the objects of inquiry. Hence, since objects are of two classes — matter and mind, or practical and the- oretical as he called them, he thence inferred two methods, instead of two species of intelligence. He thus confuses the method of inquiry, with the inquiring intelligence. Instead of two species of cognition, corresponding with his two classes of ■objects, he assumes two methods: induction, which he thus unwittingly makes identical with discursive cognition; and deduction, identical with the intui- tive. Hence, when using the word induction, Bacon in reality means discursive cognition — that which deals with concrete objects for practical results; "While by deduction, he means intuitive cognition — that which deals with abstractions or theories. This construction is self evident from his general drift. Practice against theory, the concrete against the abstract, may be called the upshot of his philos- ophy. Hence, his antithesis to the old Greek mas- ters, whom he berated so vehemently. They were for abstract theories, he said, while he was for prac- tical questions. Their method, which he called de- ductive, was vain and fruitless; while his opposite inductive one, is the all-in-all for practical good. It signifies nothing, that Bacon and the Greek both alike, employed discursive and intuitive cog- 156 THE self: what IS IT? nition, and which two latter employ but one and the same method of inquiry : he was not concerned about methods or species of cognition, but about objects and their practical outcome. Nor can we assume otherwise indeed, without impeaching his very remarkable sagacity. The difference between him and the Greek, is precisely that between the discursive and intuitive. He did not stop to think, that the two are each implied and required by our dual existence; that without an intuitive designer, there would be no need for a discursive imitator; that without theory there could be no practice — no model to practice after. Instead, he implicitly assumed discursive and intuitive — or induction and deduction as he called them, to be independent of each other. Looking almost wholly at objects and practical results, the discursive was his favorite, which he personates to its fullest, in his doctrines. His sole aspiration was, to materialize thought; insomuch, he counted all thought worthless, which could not be materialized into physical experience. The Greek on the other hand, personates the in- tuitivfe. Though necessitated to employ the discur- sive for physical needs, he seemed to employ it as a filthy tool, ever aspiring instead, to the higher sphere of original intuitive thought. Thus ever seeking the highest thought, he would employ it DISCURSIVE COGNITION 1 57 Avhen found, as a stepping stone to something still higher. Bacon on the contrary, would employ it just in so far as it might subserve practical good: the doc- trine of the correlation o£ forces for instance, he would materialize into a telephone or other ma- chine; and whatever could not be so utilized, he counted worthless. The Greek would build lofty temples, as if to rival the mansions of the gods; while Bacon would pull down such temples, and with the debris, build walls and stalls for beef- cattle. The tendency of Bacon was to materialize every- thing; that of the Greek, to idealize. If existence imply no more than "to eat, drink and be merry to-day, since to-morrow we die," then Bacon was nearer the mark; but if otherwise, he was very wide of it. Of course. Bacon gave a great impetus to physics ; but no greater than that he gave — though doubtless unwittingly, to materialism. The latter is just as palpable and wide spread to-day as the former. But all men more or less illustrate this question; all men incline to be either Baconians or Greeks — materialists or idealists, accordingly as the dis- cursive or intuitive may happen to dominate their habits of thought. It is also illustrated by the contrast between men 158 THE self: what is it? and women. To say nothing as to whether, or to» what extent, the intelligence of the sexes may nat- urally differ, it is plain that usage and habit incline: one to discursive, and the other to intuitive thought. The man, immersed in physical interests, cultivates, discursive aspiration and thought; while the wo- man, less involved in such interests, inclines to the: intuitive. For the same reason, youths of both sexes are apt to be in the category with woman, and through, youth at least, live in the higher intuitive sphere. Instead of being a discredit as the materialist: charges, it is rather a credit to religion, that wo- men and children are its chief votaries. Their in- born instincts being less hoodwinked than those of men, they ought to be better judges of such ques- tions, than men; better at least than men of dis- cursive judgments, which latter have no competency for any intuitive question. AN OBJECTION. Allowing the discursive to be a mere mimic, how- does it nevertheless prove a full match for the in- tuitive, very often indeed seeming to wholly super- cede it? Simply because, both of them being but; passive instruments, their efficiency in any given, case does not depend upon their relative powers, so much as upon an overruling sense, especially ifl the latter be vicious. DISCURSIVE COGNITION 159 The possibility and extent to which cognition may be perverted, is precisely as wide, as the pro- vision made in the mental economy for the full play of depravity and free agency. Hence, all men are not only liable, but inclined to pervert cogni- tion; while the easiest and shortest way to do so, is to lure the discursive into collision with the in- tuitive. But though all are thus liable and inclined to materialism, no one is necessitated to so persist. The same provision which gives vicious sense and a pervertible cognition, also gives virtuous inclina- tions and moral free agency. The native liability to materialism, does not hence of necessity result harmfully, to one virtuously in- clined: that is, there is no more necessity for per- sisting in materialism, than for persisting in a vi- cious life. But as some men will persist in vice, so also some will persist in materialism ; and it is the latter pre- cisely, who are materialists proper: not those natur- ally liable, but those stubbornly persistent in mate- rialism. Those who, from some undue prejudice, vanity, desire for notoriety, or other vicious prompt- ing, finally become professional materialists — volun- teers, who enlist for the whole war. Such an atti- tude is one of stubborn persistence in vice, and is the same with that of any other confirmed evil doer. l6o THE SELF : WHAT IS IT? It has been fully seen, that vicious sense, by means of illusive symbols, may easily lure either of the cognitive powers into contradiction or sophistry. It was not then and there explained — from fear of causing too much complexity, that on the basis of said sophistry, either cognition may be set to work as upon truthful premises. For instance, it being falsely assumed by the discursive, that the physical body is the real man, the intuitive may then be set to work as earnestly in support of this false posi- tion, as if it were a true one. Accordingly, the professional materialist, who only admits a five sense or discursive cognition, does yet employ the intuitive just as other people: only, instead of employing it legitimately, he puts it to work in support of false discursive assump- tions. And thus, like a. piece of passive artillery, the intuitive may be directed against friend or foe alike. It is hence common in materialistic writings, to see intuitive reasoning aimed directly against in- tuitive truth. In such case, the intuitive is a sort of blind Sampson, who being a helpless captive, is made to grind out vicious sophistries for the behoof of his enemies: as final result and having the needed strength, he pulls down the temple of truth upon himself and enemies alike. But says one, this is allowing vicious sense to DISCURSIVE COGNITION l6l have too much power: a power sufficient to pull deep and strong in the human heart that even thieves respect an honest man: nay, as if to give A GLAN'CE AT SEVERAL OF KANT'S DOCTRINES 227 it proper emphasis, we often apply it where it has no application, in saying: "I even respect an honest dog." There is no dispute, neither about the reality of honesty, nor its priceless worth ; so that, such universal admission of the two truths, puts them both in the category of universal verdicts. They are not debatable questions, allowing of error, especially with those unskilled in debate; in- stead, they answer the first and most often recurring; practical question: What is the best and highest; life for me to live? The verdict answers: "An hon-- est man is the noblest work of God; " nor could the: truth of this answer be doubted though denied by- all the philosophers ever born. It is a necessary,, a universal truth, endorsed by the mind's whole integrity. But how does this verdict bear upon the doctrines of this book? It is a positive proof of its leading idea, that human character — the Self, is grounded in sense; for honesty, whereby man becomes the noblest work of God, is predicable of sense only. By implication, it first puts man above all created things; then sense, as the highest element in man; and lastly, honesty — moral quality, as the climax of sense. On the other hand, it implies a degree of con- tempt for intelligence, renown, wealth, blood, etc., in this, that such things are not even thought of. 228 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT? much less hinted at, as elements in the make-up of the noblest work of God. Sense and sense only, and sense in its moral phase, can be the noblest and highest; and must therefore include the Self. Every chief proposition of the book, may in truth be deduced from this one verdict. But to say that an honest man, in the common and contracted meaning, extorts respect from every quarter, is to give but a faint idea of the full truth. This is not one half the full meaning of the phrase, honest man; nor one half the honor awarded such. The noblest work of God is not one individual simply, but a class consisting of degrees or ranks; and an honest man in the common meaning, is but one in the primary rank, though a nobleman to be sure, relatively to his moral inferiors. Whereas, an honest man in the full and highest sense, is a king or emperor, relatively to thoge of. the primary rank. That is to say, an honest man in the full sense, is one who does his duty in all known respects, and to its fullest extent. Bjit to do one's duty fully and unflinchingly, often requires the sacrifice of life. Right here precisely, in being true to his no- bility in the very teeth of death, he mounts from the primary rank of nobleman, up to a kingly scep- tre and diadem, in the esteem of universal instinct. Despite his well earned prestige and nobility, the A GLAKCE AT SEVERAL OF KANT'S DOCTRINES 22g honest man of the primary grade, becomes trite and common place, when put alongside of Socrates, Le- onidas or other such martyrs. These latter are the kings, and the only real kings of the human heart. Their lives and deaths crown them as such, and thenceforth become influences — become laws, far more potent in swaying the destiny of the race, than those of the wisest law -maker. Monuments are built up to them — not always in brass and marble; but in history, in poetry, and above all, in the human heart. Every heart withal, pays them tribute from its most precious treasures of esteem, love, and ven- eration. But this seems contradictory. At this rate, hu- man character — the Self, seems to forsake itself; even to give up its own life, for the sake of some- thing foreign to itself; and yet by this self-murder, mouhts up to the highest dignity and honor. Never- theless, the universal instinct looks at this self-mur- der, as beautiful and sublime to the highest degree. But it is no self murder. Instead, the hero, real- izing instinctively, that the principle for which he dies, is far above physical life, simply sacrifices the one rather than forfeit the other; exchanges the contracted ends of a contracted Self, for those of greater scope; and thus, from a star of smaller mag- nitude, expands to one of larger, having a relatively larger orbit. Rather than revolve in the orbit of a 230 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT? contracted Self, Leonidas mounted to the larger and higher one of patriotism, and revolved around the Hellenic race. Socrates also leaving the contracted orbit around himself, mounted to the moral, and re- ■ volved in a still higher and grander one, than that of Leonidas. So that, in forsaking or going out from themselves, they in reality found and exalted themselves. At least, so says infallible instinct. Plainly, moral excellence is the ground of the honor awarded to the honest man. In the lower rank, he„ gives up selfish gain, for the sake of moral honesty; in the higher, he gives up life for princi- ples higher than life. The honor awarded in either case, is not for the sacrifice made; but for the de- gree of moral excellence, and which is judged of by the degree of self renunciation. Here is no trifling fact. Though each of us may be selfish in every word and deed; though with the lips, we may honor intelligence, blood, wealth and fashion; yet in our hearts, we honor men precisely in the ratio, that, forsaking their own selfish ends, they adopt others of higher and broader moral scope. But, the significant point is, we cannot help so doing: instinct compels us to thus testify to the beauty and priceless worth of moral excellence. All along we have been straining on tip-toe, to see through the fogs of materialistic illusion, in or- der to get clear and intelligible views of an imma- A GLANCE AT SEVERAL OF KANT'S DOCTRINES 23I terial reality, distinct from and higher than the material. Now, here, as if in contempt of intelli- gence, instinct compels us to recognize such a sys- tem — a system withal, characteristically iporal. Though wholly invisible to the five senses, it is yet seen as being so real and palpable, that men will sacrifice the present physical, for the sake of the other arid higher moral system. This may be fanatical; yet universal instinct endorses it, by honoring such men, just in the ratio of their heroic loyalty to this higher system. Human intelligence is not infallible: at the best, it can only see as through a glass darkly, and never says its last word upon any question. But when instinct speaks, it is the voice of nature — of God, and there's an end to it. According to this author- ity, there is a moral system, higher and more real than the physical, and for which the latter, as a bound offering, is ever ready to be sacrificed. This moral system also has its firmament, its sun, planets, gravitation, etc., more real and abiding than those of the physical. We have seen Socrates, Leonidas, and such like, as the planets of this sys- tem, with their magnitudes and orbits, greater or less, according to their moral brilliancy. Having a firmament and varying planets, it must also have a central sun. Its planets were seen to be positive necessities; instinct was necessitated to 232 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT? set them up for light and comfort, in an elsewise dark and cheerless firmament. That a chief, central sun is of still greater necessity, is demonstrated by the notable fact, that, in the absence of a real one, instinct has ever been necessitated to manufacture one for itself, rather than be left without. Allowing this central sun to be a myth, yet this myth is precisely what human nature is necessitated to have: just as, allowing the physical sun to be a. myth, the solar system is none the less necessitated. to have it as a controlling center. Besides, since, human nature is necessitated to such a degree, that, it will itself manufacture a sun for the moral sys- tem, rather than be left without, it would be quite strange if this, its chief need, be left wholly un- provided for. There must hence be such a sun — a real central sun, if instinct be truthful. What, or who is that central sun? The force of this fact is often avoided, by saying r If instinct be necessitated to have a sun for its moral system, then it ought also be able to find the. right one, without any dispute. So it may be replied, if instinct be necessitated to have social and polit- ical institutions, then it ought also be able to find the right ones without any disputes." But it is not. so in either case, and for plain reasons too. However, as an easy and natural study of the question, let the inquiry begin with the conception A GLANCE AT SEVERAL OF KANT' S DOCTRINES 233 honest man, in its lowest sense; thence rising higher, take Leonidas, then Socrates, then Budda and so on. This procedure will bring out the fact, that this central sun, must be the highest ideal de- ducible from the conception honest man ; or which is the same, the highest ideal of moral excellence: it must be perfect. As proof, if the given ideal be not perfect, the devotee will make it so — will credit it with perfection; indeed, will not stop short of divinity. Yet, meanwhile as Hegel says, it must be a di- vinity concretely manifested; it miist be both man and God in one, somewhat as illustrated by the man-Gods of the ancients. That is on the one hand, fully realizing its dependence, human nature will, and is necessitated to have a divinity to lean upon; and on the other, that divinity must partake of human nature, else it could not be touched with a feeling for human infirmity. Love is one of our strongest traits; and withal, is necessitated to have some object to love or re- volve about. Now, to be so constituted, and yet left without any object, love would be an empty lie, chargeable on the Creator. But love has ob- jects enough and to spare. Instead, the question is, what is the best and highest object for love? Instinct replies, it is the highest moral excellence; and it is necessitated to so reply. What is the :234 THE self: WHAT IS IT? highest moral excellence? God, of course. But God is too high and remote ; quite as remote on the one hand, as frail man is lacking on the other, to meet the imperious need in question. The only alternative is a compromise: it must be a perfect man; and which amounts to a man-God. It does not follow, because love oftep fixes on low or wrong objects, that it has no best or highest object ; it does not follow from a discursive theory of the solar system, that there is no true theory. So, neither do the self-made gods of savages, nor does Confuciu^s, nor Budda, nor Mahomet, nor six- teen crucified Saviors, nor anything else, disprove the necessity and reality of a true man-God as the •center of the moral system. Instead, such facts only emphasize the necessity — the burning and agonizing necessity of human in- stinct, for such man-God; and withal, extort the question: Can it be possible, that no such man- God has been provided? To answer no, is to say the very heart of human nature is a pure delusion. This we cannot do; and hence, must assume a true and real man-God. The question is, who is it? Though but a glance at the question, in view of its bearing on the present line of thought, this glance can refer only to the gospel of human in stinct. According to this gospel — and which is doubtless the veritable handwriting of God, our own A GLANCE AT SEVERAL OF KANT'S DOCTRINES 235 Christ is obviously the man-God in question. He is certainly the fullest. impersonation of moral ex- cellence as manifested by self-renunciation ; and as such, the highest Ideal — the great central sun of the moral system, according to instinct. The plain facts of the case make the result in- evitable. But discursive cognition, which contra- dicts the true theory of the physical system, is even worse respecting the moral. It admits the reality of a great sun in the physical system, but makes it subordinate — makes it revolve around the earth ; ■while as respects the moral system, it sees neither the reality nor the need of any such sun. Among many illusions which beset the discursive on this question — a question wholly beyond its reach, only two need be noted. First, the discursive will forever contradict the principle of self-renunciation. The idea of return- ing good for evil; of caring for others, instead of one's self; and of sacrificing one's life for others, the discursive will ever pronounce to be unnatural and monstrous. Yet,' precisely this monstrosity as seen above, is what instinct exalts to. the highest degree of honor. Secondly, the discursive being almost wholly devoted to symbolism, finds its chief delight in make believes, furbelows, and gew-gaws of all sorts. Hence and naturally enough, the very last thing it 236 THE self; what is it? would expect in a man-God, was the severe and su^ perhuman simplicity of Christ. Above all, this su- preme simplicity balked tlje discursive at the start; and right there it stays balked to this good day. Either one of these principles in fact — self renun- ciation or simplicitj', is altogether too much for dis- cursive comprehension. As climax to \he foregoing, is the notable mat- ter of fact, that Christ has been recognized as the man-God by the highest civilization of the world, for nineteen hundred years. He must hence be the true one, else the highest product of instinct. Be- ing assumed as the latter, yet withal as the highest ideal. He can never be superceded; for allowing the possibility of a higher, it would be above in- stinct, and hence a failure. Such a thing is con- ceivable only on the assumption of a reversed caus- ality, which would put everything — even God, ia the category of growth. As for the rest, Christ neither said nor intended, that the proof of His claim ^hould be so positive, as to leave no room for doubt; but did say most clearly, on the contrary, though implicitly by the doctrine of faith, that the possiblity of doubt is positively indispensable. Without the possibility to sin, there could be no moral free agency — no moral system; and which first phase of free agency, is implied in Christian- A GLANCE AT SEVERAL OF KANT'S DOCTRINES 237 ity. But it has still another; for though being within, it is yet a distinct individual in the moral system; and as such, requires another phase of free agency peculiar to itself, the condition of which is faith; and which faith is impossible, except on the possibility of doubt. So that, if Christianity ■were demonstrated beyond doubt, men would be constrained to accept it; while suCh constraint, in excluding free agency, would exclude faith as its prime condition, and therewith end it as a system of religion. For fear of straining discursive scruples too much, it may be added, that though intelligence is im- plied in faith, yet it is not its chief factor, any more than it is in responsibility. The latter also implies intelligence; still, neither common sense nor any jury, ever yet held intelligence responsible for crime: intelligence is not even thought of, much less censured in such cases. So also, faith in essential respects, is a creature of sense. If only sense be properly inclined towards Christianity, there will be no trouble about intelligence. "With the heart man believeth unto righteousness," and not with the head. It may now be emphasized as pertinent to this treatise, that the great, not to say all-inclusive idea of Christ's mission, was the priceless worth of the human heart — sensibility. His entire message was 238 THE self: what is it? addressed to the heart. The head was not sick, nor lame, nor blind, nor in need of a physician; but only the heart. He did not of course, repudiate intelligence; but ignored it rather, by addressing, the heart exclusively. He hereby said — not once, but hundreds of times and ways, that the heart is the Self, and sufficiently personates all of prime worth or responsibility, in human character. More- over, a man is good or bad, degraded or exalted, according to his purity of heart. Nor were any of these truths debated; but assumed as too evident to debate, and which gives them so much the more force. Much the same, in the respect in question, may be said about instinct. Its high estimate of an hon- est man as seen above, but expresses the principle, that moral excellence as grounded in sense or the heart, is the highest good; This amounts to saying that the highest expressions of instinct, fully accord so far as they go, with those of Christianity. Being both grounded in sense, they must stand or fall together; nor are they likely ever to fall, until something firmer and more abiding than sense can be found, whereon to build. Neither is the latter possible, without a thorough reconstruction of hu- man character. And finally, being grounded on the same rock with these two, the leading thought of this treatise ought to be secure. CHAPTER VI. A FINAL GLANCE AT MATERIALISM. The purpose of this Part II is an analysis of in- telligence, which, however, is not possible to any rational degree, without an explanation of contra- diction. For, until this latter is done, intelligence stands impeached: not only is its integrity in- volved, but its otherwise most vital phenomena re- main dark and inexplicable. But contradiction in turn, can only be explained by tracing it back -to its source, viz., materialism. Hence, to see the latter fully and distinctly, is indispensable to cor- rect views of the former two. To this end, a few thoughts about materialism not convenient before, will perhaps aid to throw clearer light on the whole of Part II. Materialism was characterized as springing from, vicious tendency — depravity; and since the latter is an adjunct of free agency, it follows, that ma- terialism is made possible by virtue of the provis- ion in the moral economy, for free agency, respon- sibility, etc. But this has already been amply ex- 239 240 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT? plained: the present point is about the vague ex- pression vicious tendency. Though the phrase is of indefinite extent and may include everything implied in depravity, it does not mean that each and all its manifestations, amount to gross immorality. Instead, beginning at a moral zero, its perversions of intelligence may begin and thence proceed many degrees before reaching what is commonly regarded as downright immorality. In other words, the least and most commonplace disputes are explicable by the same principle, which explains the grosser forms of contradiction and falsehood: both alike result from perverting intelligence; and which can only be done by vi- cious tendency. For instance, the facts in any given case may be plain and self-evident; yet one attorney will so con- strue them, as to make the given object seem white; while his opponent will make it seem black. In such case and of necessity, ope of the two perverts the legitimate purposes of intelligence; and since such perversion cannot be referred to virtuous ten- dency, the only help is to refer it to a vicious one. So, from the least debate or difference of opinion about the merest trifle, up to the most momentous contradiction, it will be found in every case, that some sense motive — some bias, whim, interest, prejudice, or other unjust influence, is the main- spring which perverts intelligence. A FINAL CiLANCE AT MATERIALISM 24I This does not deny, what are called honest mis- takes, or an honest misuse of intelligence ; but rath- er, refers such mistakes themselves back to some anterior caprice, indolence, prejudice, or other- wise. This again is only saying, that intelligence per se being truthful, cannot mislead, unless it be perverted ; and it can only be perverted by an over- ruling sense; which sense in so perverting the truth, cannot be called otherwise than vicious. Study with care, any one practical case of debate or contradic- tion, and it will prove all the above. It will, indeed not only explain the primary ground of contradic- tion; but in so doing, give the only possible clew to a proper analysis of intelligence. Next and again, the precise meaning of the word rationalism is hard to get from its common use. From our standpoint it is guite plain: viz.. The as- sumption that intelligence is the supreme authority of mind, and as such, is causal, independent and responsible. At this rate, and allowing it to be truthful withal, then contradiction and falsehood would be impossible. For being truthful, it could not voluntarily deceive; and being causal or inde- pendent, it could not be used to serve for false pur- poses, by any other power. So that, the only way to maintain its truth on the one hand, and yet explain its seeming falsehood on the other, is to make it passive and pervertible, 242 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT? hereby referring its prostitution to an overruling, vicious sense. But apart from the impossibility of explaining contradiction and the consequent impossibility of analyzing intelligence-apart from these, as a couple of trifles; yet and despite all, we are still necessi- tated to regard intelligence as passive and irre- sponsible; if for nothing else, because the sense mo- tive only, is held by universal instinct and usage, to be the causal and responsible agent in all con- duct. Nothing can be more certain, or more strongly proven, according to human authority. Hence, the strange part is, that on turning away, we instantly deny it and proclaim intelligence to be the great au- tocrat of mind. This is rationalism; and though absurd to the last degree, it is the first and most wide spread of all materialistic illusions. All are implicated in this: it is common to call only those rationalists however, who carry out the doctrine to its legitimate results. These have a. degree of logical consistency to say the least ; for if intelligence be the supreme authority, then it is. supreme; and as such, ought to rule our every ac- tion. At this rate also, doctrines of expediency, util- ity, etc., ought to wholly supersede the authority of the moral sense, whereby the words duty, ought, morality, etc., would be meaningless. A FINAL GLANCE AT MATERIALISM 243 Rationalism, like every other form of material- ism, comes from mistaking the symbol for the real: mistaking the passive instrument intelligence, for the real responsible sense authority. It not only comes through symbolism, like all other lies of ma- terialism, but is as bad and perhaps more harmful, than all the grosser forms of materialism put to- gether. Thus, it does its frightful work, by destroy- ing the entire moral economy at one deadly blow. Add to this, that it is the most widespread, stub- born, and self conceited of all delusions. Only see: We proclaim doctrines of expediency,, or otherwise recognize the supremacy of intelli-- gence, when on the street ; but the next moment,, and after taking oath in the court room, we award life or death to a fellow man, according to the moral quality of his sense motive in the given case. How is this? Is it outright perjury, or stupidity, or indolent indifference to truth, or what? This first and most amazing of all illusions was noticed briefly in Chapter II, Part I; but its vast im- port requires further notice. It was noted then and there, that a potent influence leading to the notion of the supremacy of intelligence, is the fact, that while each of us is apt to imagine himself to be controlled by calm reflection, we yet refer the conduct of other people to sense promptings. We go instinctively to sense, in order to find out the mainspring of 244 THE self: what is it? other people's conduct while as for myself, I am governed by sober reflection and reason. This ri- diculous but most common infatuation, would seem enough to open the eyes of the blindest ; but it does not. There are many other reasons for thus mistak- ing the showy, though purely instrumental func- tions of intelligence, for the rear and controlling cause, a few of which must be added. The eye for instance, though intended solely for seeing, cannot yet see itself; and much the same may be said of the Self. Not, however, because the Self cannot, so much as because, being other- wise occupied, it is not likely to see itself. The Self consists of a number of various senses, each one of which is apt to be wholly occupied with its own special objects, and meanwhile blind to all else. This shows the absolute necessity of a moral sense, which is also wholly occupied with its ob- ject : viz., To supervise the other senses, and keep them as fully as can be, in accord with moral Tightness. So that, no one of the senses is apt to give much time to study itself, or its fellow senses, or even the total Self, as a culmination oi all the senses together. Instead, next after its desired object, the first concern of each sense, is the getting of said object; and hereupon percisely, it employs its passive in- strument intelligence to devise ways and means for A FIMAL GLANCE AT MATERIALISM 245 getting the object. Plainly, without an intelli- gence of its own, adapted to its own peculiar ob- ject, said object could not be realized, thus leaving sense helpless and hopeless. No wonder then, that intelligence, though but an instrument for getting the desired object, should yet be extolled by sense, as being the all in all. For mark, intelligence is the primary and chief instrument} while very often, sense will idolize even a secondary instrument, be- cause of its aid in getting the desired object. The inebriate for instance, knows full well that whiskey is killing him; yet whiskey is his most adored idol. And why? Simply because it is the instrument which serves to realize his ruling sense desire. This gives a glimpse of the real master of the mind — viz.. Sense desire. The all-devouring desire of the inebriate, is no exception either. Avarice, ambition, vanity, love, anger, or any other sense, once aroused and in full armor, tyrannizes over the whole man, mind and body, to say nothing of a passive intelligence. Rich- ard only proposed to give his whole kingdom for one horse; but the average sense, unrestrained and bent on gratification, would sacrifice the whole world, heaven, — everything, and itself into the bar- gain, rather than be balked in its desire. What folly then, to set up a puny and passive intelligence, as a ruler over sense. Plainly, noth- 246 THE self: what is it? ing but a fellow kinsman — the moral sense, could have one mite of influence in such case; and not even that, if the profligate sense be once allowed to get under full headway. This brings us to the moral aspect of the ques- tion ; and which doubtless goes deepest towards an explanation of the great illusion in hand. Our moral economy seems not to have fairly started, until after the serpent was introduced into Eden. "The serpent beguiled me and I did eat." The part ascribed to the serpent in this first dawn of sin, corresponds precisely to that of discursive intelli- gence, in beguiling into materialism. Thd point to be noted, however, is this : I was beguiled into this unfortunate deed. Can a poor ignorant body like myself, beheld as responsible? Pray, go to the serpent who beguiled me: he is wise and he is responsible. According to this first dawn of depravity, intelligence is not only used as an instrument for vicious purposes, but is finally made to bear the blame and responsibility. It is still the invariable resort of vicious sense, to ex- cuse or defend itself, in one way or another, by means of passive intelligence. In brief, the deceptive serpent or human deprav- ity, with the other reasons given, in some degree explain our constant liability to mistake the symbol for the real. This liability in turn, opens the way A FINAL GLANCE AT MATERIALISM 247 for the two grand illusions in question: (i) The supremacy of intelligence; and (2) the restriction of intelligence to the five senses. These two may be said to include all other illusions. A subsequent confounding of mind and matter, reversed causality and method of inquiry, with an endless number of minor illusions, flow from these two great fountains. Obviously now, starting out under these two grand illusions, no inquiry of large philosophical scope, no matter how honest, persistent, and saga- cious it may be, can result otherwise than disas- trously. This only amounts to saying, that no amount of care and sagacity, can transform false- hood into truth. Both of these illusions are false ; • so that, to start out on any far-reaching inquiry, under the mislead of either — to say nothing of both, must lead to endless perplexity and contradiction. And here precisely, is seen the battlefield, on which philosophy has kept up a life and death struggle, from the earliest period of inquiry. Take the first illusion — the supremacy of intel- ligence. This is not only a great root error in it- self, excluding the possibility of truth in any inquiry which may assume it ; but it also leads to a wrong method of inquiry at the first step. Instead of tak- ing the entire mind analytically, and beginning with sense as its basic element, it leads the student to begin with intelligence — with the extremities of 248 THE SELf: WHAT IS IT? mind. Meanwhile the second illusion — restriction of intelligence to the five senses, excludes a knowl- edge of mind, God, and all other immaterial ob- jects. Now then, on such a field and shackled with such errors, what avail the most giant intellects? Starting out under the first illusion, we have seen how Kant,, who perhaps has no equal since Plato, was led to construct a most elaborate intellectual hierarchy; yet, practically abandons it in the end, and finds the onl}' sure footing for cognition to be in sense. Likewise, led by the second illusion to deny a knowledge of mind, God, etc. ; yet finally, breaking away from the shackles of- his premises, he finds God in a round about way, by means of the moral sense. Though greatly superior to Hume in several vital respects, yet his system in its logical entirety, was not a whit above that of Hume, owing to the two illusions in question. True enough, by his a priori perception of space, he carried his point against Hume; but in restricting perception, he fell back into the same pit with Hume. That is, he got himself a fine pair of wings to be sure ; but so pin- ioned them, that he could soar no higher than Hume after all. Moreover, despite their native difierences, they were alike in this: Each was a materialist, by vir- A FINAL GLANCE AT MATERIALISM 249 tue of a discursive or restricted perception; yet each was also an idealist, by virtue of a silent or unrecognized^ intuitive perception. Practically, Kant sloughed off materialism, and held fast to idealism. Hume held on to both, and as result, fell into uni- versal skepticism. Hume's inferiority to Kant in a high mettled moral prowess, gave him a seeming superiority in logical respects. He stubbornly followed his prem- ises to their legitimate, though bitter results. Ac- cording to bis standpoint, as indeed, according to that of Kant and all of us who restrict preception, he was logically consistent and unanswerable in his famous argument against miracles. . He never once thought to inquire, whether anything can occur above or beyond a five sense experience; but as- sumed it as wholly impossible. Hence on the one hand, since miracles are im- possible according to his standard of experience ; and since on the other hand, it is common for men to be either false or deluded, therefore the wit- nesses of miracles were false or deceived. And this invincible argument against superstition he says, will stand good to the end of the world. So it will, according to a restricted perception; and so likewise will it stand good against Newtonian grav- ity, the Copernican philosophy, as in fact, against all truths above a five sense perception. The plain 253 THE self: WHAT IS IT? iact is, the five senses can only see the symbols or illustrations of truth; but never one single truth ^er se. An indefinite number, besides Hume and Kant, might be employed to illustrate the illusions in question. Let two others suffice —say, Fichte and Spinoza. It will be hard to find two men in mod- ern times, more earnest, acute, or otherwise better endowed for difficult problems, than these two. Let them be glanced at briefly. On several accounts, Fichte might be called a more intense idealist than Kant. None of the grosser phases of materialism, can be found in his writings; yet it permeates his entire system. Not to mention speci-fic instances, it is enough that the -very germ of his system is pure materialism. To explain : Kant more clearly than any other, saw that the mechanism of intelligence presupposes God, as an unconditioned ground for its operations: the syllogism for instance, would be wholly and directly inoperative, without unconditioned totality. Very well: but along with this, his restricted pre- ception denies God altogether; so that, on the one hand, God is a necessity implied in the structure of intelligence; while on the other, there is no God. To reconcile this trouble, he invents what he calls an idea of God, to serve as the uncondi- tioned ground in demand. This idea of God, how- A FINAL GLANCE AT MATERIALISM 25 1 -ever, he says, is neither God, nor anj' proof of the Teality of God; but only an inborn idea of God, intended to serve as the ground of cognitive activ- ity. Now then, this dummy idea of God— a mere make- shift to reconcile the contradiction indicated, was -adopted, though perhaps unconsciously, by his disciple, Fichte, as the germ of a new system. That is, this idea of God, so essential to intelli- -gence, was put on as a sort of climax to the human ^go, and presently expanded into an absolute Ego; so that, there is no God, nor anything else except the Ego, according to Fichte's final outcome. But the point now to be noted is this: This idea •of God as employed by Kant, cannot at the very most, be called anything more than a mere symbol of God; yet it was this symbol precisely, which Fichte vitalized and expanded into an absolute Ego — the all-in-all of existence. A system thus spring- ing from a pure symbol as its root idea, cannot be ■else than pure materialism throughout; though to a careless reader, it seems the most purely abstract and anti-materialistic system to be found. It is not needed to go into details with Spinoza. His wholesale confounding of mind and matter from beginning to end, is his notable characteristic; and makes his system one of downright materialism, beyond all debate. 252 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT? It must be noted of both in addition, however, that besides being two of the most acute thinkers of modern times, they were perhaps never equaled, much less excelled, in a rigid and severe loyalty to philosophical ritual. Each went to the utmost limit in his special forms of inquiry. Each seeiqed to think, that by his peculiar procedure, knowledge can be got, even where there is none ; somewhat as- if a farmer, without seeds, would expect a fine harvest by sheer ploughing. Yet and despite all, see the final results: Fichte, with his severely critical procedure, utterly failed to find any God in the universe; while Spinoza, with his infallible mathematical procedure, equally failed to find anything at all in the Universe, except God. But such illustrations seem to overshoot the mark. How is it, that, starting out under the same illusions, on the same premises, and each one withal of such superior sagacityr how is it, that the final results are so wide apart? Firstly, to start in gross error, can but lead to other errors ; so that, there is no telling what the result may be. Besides, as explained a score of times, all inquiry is liable to be unduly influenced by a power behind the throne — that is, by an overruling sense, as was just seen above respecting Hume and Kant. Kant was even superior to Hume in logical acute- A FINAL GLANCE AT MATERIALISM 253 ness and a love of logical consistency; but he was also dominated by a still stronger power — a love of moral consistency. Starting out in error, his log- ical tended to annul his moral system; but the lat- ter being the stronger of the two, led him to finally compromise — indeed, to bend the logical to the moral, and thus to seem at a great logical disad- vantage. Hume, starting under the same illusions, but meanwhile dominated by an early and bitter preju- dice to religion, found his discursive logic to be a strong ally against religion ; and hence, employed it to the bitter end. This gave him a greater seem- ing of logical consistency, than Kant; yet his logic, like that of Kant, was a passive instrument in the hands of a dominating sense. This amounts to saying no more, than what is self- evident almost universally in practical life. In other words, to know a man's party in politics, or his sect in theology, or his social attitude, is to know pretty well in advance, his logical drift re- specting these several questions. And this again, is but repeating the dominant idea of the book: viz.. That intelligence is passive and pervertible; and as such, is ever ready to serve the purposes of an overruling sense. But it is well in this connection, to emphasize again and for the last time, the word distinction. 254 "^^^ self: what is it? With its implications, no one word has so much significance in an analysis of intelligence. Being; central, it presupposes perception in the first place, and implies inference in the second. Each of the- three is meaningless, without the other two; while the three together, as an indivisible one, and as the sole method in every inquiry, personate all cog- nitive activity. Very well: but the several famous men glanced at above, were noted more than others, for clear, sharp, and the most hair-splitting distinctions be- tween things: what more? Only this: the first and. most vital of all distinctions, is a distinction be- tween distinctions themselves — between the relative^ worth of trifling and vital distinctions. It is one thing to distinguish between trifles; but it is quite- another, to distinguish between things of mo.-nent; yet strangely enough, the constant tendency to fail- ure is in the latter In other words, what avail the most delicate dis- tinctions in the details of an inquiry, if the very root of the inquiry itself, be false? And is it extravagant to say, that ninety-nine hundredths of our debates are about ambiguous words ; else about vague or erroneous premises at the start? Plainly, to start in error, is to continue in error, despite a subsequent world full of hair-splitting distinctions, between trifles. A FINAL GLANCE AT MATERIALISM 255 It would seem quite strange, if the architect with- out distinctions at the outset, should construct spires and domes, before the foundation, putting the former at the bottom, and the latter at the top. Yet, precisely this, no more nor less than this, is- done in the most vital inquiries of philosophy. Ignoring the prime fact, which is as plain as noon-day, that the sense motive, in being the main- spring and responsible agent, must hence be the basic element of mind, we begin and end our in- quiries in mental philosophy with intelligence ; thus not only making spire and dome first, but first and last, without any foundation at all. To so mistake the symbol for the real — to mis- take the showy, liveried servant intelligence, for the real master, is an inexorable root error; but it is not all. As seen above, this first great error, opens the way and lures to a reversed method of in- quiry : instead of taking mind analytically, and be- ginning with sense as its basic element, it lures to a so-called synthesis, which begins with intellectual traits — spires and domes, and combines these into a total, with the basis left^out. In brief, neglecting to distinguish between mole hills and mountains in the premises, it is easy and natural enough thenceforth, to confound mind and matter, reverse causality or prove any thing which may be dictated by sense caprice, or prejudice, or indolence. 256 THE SELF : WHAT IS IT? And hence, not only the gross materialist, who deduces mind from matter, but the rationalist — the fanatical devotee who sets up intelligence as the supreme authority, are both alike materialists: both alike, mistake the symbol for the real. This sufficiently accounts for the infinite differ- ences of opinion and errors among frail mortals. It holds intelligence to be truthful and blameless throughout, and refers all errors to a sense origin. The latter being usually predetermined at the outset of the given debate, misleads at the outset by means of subtle illusions — illusions as to root ideas; and being once so started, can easily keep up a show of logical consistency to the end. CONCLUSION. Perhaps a few words about the origin and early budding forth of this volume, might give the clear- est view of the whole in a nut shell. The seed which so sprouted forth into a volume, was planted in the author's mind some years ago, while reading the English Quarterlies, so rife at that time with the doctrine of utility. Doubtless, the author of this doctrine — an old doctrine with a hew name did not intend it as a direct insult to the present writer. Yet, he so togk it: not for himself only, but for the whole human race; and thereupon, set about resenting it. A FINAL GLANCE AT MATERIALISM 257 The notion that all our conduct results from cold rational designs of utility; that there is no spon- taneous and unselfish love, no generosity, no philan- thropy — nothing noble or manly in man: yes, this was taken as an arch insult to the entire race. What was to be done? Abundant facts to dis- prove the doctrine, were plentiful on all sides. But the sophistry which upheld the doctrine, stood ever ready with other sophistries to elude said facts; sufficiently at least, to mistify and prevent clear demonstration. It was finally seen as an only alter- native, to take up the doctrine root and branch ; else it would continue a deadly Upas tree on the high- way, poisoning every passer by. Thus looking up and down, smarting and chafing seemingly for an age, the question was finally whit- tled down to this one sharp point: What, as a matter of positive fact, is the prime mainspring of all human conduct? With this sharp question, very soon the utility doctrine stood clearly out to view, as an absurd impossibility. Rational designs of utility, forsooth! But utility for what end or object? To satisfy some desire, necessarily; for without some desire as mainspring to activity, the only possible^ conception of activity would be a blind, aimless motion, without any mover. Meanwhile, reason as a principle of intelligence, is cold and passionless, without any desire; for if 258 THE SELF: WHAT IS IT? it have desire, then it is a sense. Besides, the very word design implies instrumentality, and not caus- ality. It is neither cause nor end; but a device — a means, for realizing something beyond itself; and cannot be called a motor or controlling cause. It thus became plain, that sense desire and sense desire only, is the sole mainspring to human con- duct. Very well: but on turning about from this new discovery, the author was well astonished to find, that everybody else sees the same undeniable truth; for, to say nothing of moral, religious, social and civil usage — which hold the sense motive to be causal and responsible, it was evident that any sim- pleton, led by pure instinct, would invariably go straight tjD sense motive, in order to find the main- spring and responsible agent of any action. Next came up the trouble, that causality and re- sponsibility both presuppose intelligence — are in- deed inconceivable without it. What now? Here is another nut to crack. After long worry, need- less to detail, it was finally seen, that though in- telligence is always implied, it is still never explic- itly — officially recognized, either as causal or re- sponsible. It is always present; but is present as servant and not as master. Hence and as only inference, it must be subordinate— indeed, it must be an implication or endowment of sense. For sense on the contrary, being the universally explicit and A FINAL GLANCE AT MATERIALISM 259 recognized head, must of necessity be self endowed with all the intelligence implied in causality and responsibility. It presently became plain indeed, that being the causal element of mind, sense must of necessity include not only intelligence, but every vital element of the Self; and thus, all the proposi- tions of Part I, resulted directly from sense caus- ality. But on turning about again, the astonishment was greater than ever, to find that every body denies sense causality; for though universally admitted in the court room, it was universally denied else- where. In learned debates and books, man is recog- nized as a noble being, governed by a god-like reason. To be sure, he has animal passions aftd brute appetites; but these are a superfluous nui- sance, which ought to be wholly dug up, else sub- ordinated to his god-like reason. How is this? Here is a positive contradiction — something radically wrong, not to say positively false; and the fault seems withal, to be in intelli- gence. If intelligence itself be false, how can it be a valid standard of truth about other things? It cannot be ialse perse: the fault must be deeper — must be further back. Then it became plain, that sense being the active cause, intelligence must of necessity be a passive instrument; and being pass- ive, it is pervertible; so that its seeming contra- 26o THE self: what is it? dictions, ■ are referable to an overruling sense. But why should sense pervert intelligence? Wrong doing can only be referred to wrong motives — depravity. As a matter of fact beyond denial, every criminal or wrong doer, perverts the legiti- mate uses of intelligence, when employing it to ac- complish his vicious deeds; and then perverts it again, when using it to excuse or justify himself. These reflections were all suggested by Part I and led the way to an analysis of intelligence in Part II. But as just seen, a proper analysis of in- telligence is impossible, without explaining its seeming contradictions; which latter can only be done, by tracing them back to their cause: viz., Depravity, or materialism as called in this in- stance. The consequent scheme of cognition and mode of materialism speak for themselves. They vindicate the integrity of intelligence and explain all contra- diction; insomuch, that to violate them one hair's breadth, is to pervert intelligence and cause inexpli- cable contradiction. They especially forbid the use, at least of human intelligence, to the materi- alist ; for to deny the impassable gulf between mind andmatter, as the materialist does, is to repudiate the rudiments of human cognition. He has neither moral nor logical right, to set up doctrines, which doctrines repudiate the very intelligence which was A FINAL GLANCE AT MATERIALISM 261 employed to set them up. To do so, can be called no less than moral and logical out-lawry. In brief, each leading proposition of the book is deducible from sense causality; and which in turn, resulted from a study of the utility doctrine. This statement about the origin of the book is given with the hope, that it may prove a clew to any who may be interested in the system so resulting. Of course, from the first line of the Introduction down to this present sentence, the author has often thought about the propriety of an apology, for seeming temerity in setting forth such revolutionary principles. It may be said in extenuation, that it has been an aim throughout, to avoid theory and argumentation; and instead, to rely wholly upon a common sense exposition of self-evident empirical facts. If such facts, interpreted by common sense, be not the highest authority in philosophy, then the author deserves pardon on the score of igno- rance jotherwise, apologies in the case, would amount to an apology for the laws of nature or the ways of providence. In view of its difficult problems, and the attempt to condense them into the smallest compass, it would be quite remarkable if the book should not abound in inadvertencies, obscurities, and many minor errors. These may be emphasized indefi- nitely; yet to do so, and meanwhile ignore the 262 THE self: WHAT IS IT? frame work of the system, as some reviewers did respecting the first edition, is to virtually endorse the system. Being mainly intended for popular readers and yottng students, it has been an aim in the use of every word and in the structure of every sentence, to be as plain and intelligible as possible; and this too, mainly with the final object, to entice each reader out to look and think for himself. To such readers, philosophy ofiers the greatest interest and advantage; while to the opposite class, it is fruit- less, except in make-believe ritual. It is not at all foreign, but altogether relevant to the foregoing exposition, to close with these two questions: (i) How much, or in what prime re- spect has philosophy .advanced, since the days of Plato? (2) What is the hope of its improvement, so long as it continues under that first and chief of illusions, that intelligence is the supreme au- thority of human character? THE END. 4. ■"Z^! V