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Great Philosophical Problems 
 
Great Philosophical 
 Problems 
 
 BY 
 
 JAMES LINDSAY 
 
 D.D., M.A., B.Sc, F.R.S.E., Etc. 
 
 author of 
 
 'a philosophical system of theistic idealism, 
 
 and other works 
 
 William Blackwood and Sons 
 
 Edinburgh and London 
 
 1922 
 
7 / V r 
 
 J^ 
 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 This volume of Philosophical Essays is an inde- 
 pendent work, and may be read as such. But it 
 has, at the same time, an ulterior and higher value 
 than that of a volume of detached essays. For, in 
 its choice of subjects, it has been designed and pur- 
 posed to serve as a supplementary volume to my 
 recent large work, entitled ' A Philosophical System 
 of Theistic Ideahsm.' All the subjects dealt with 
 in the present volume were touched upon in that 
 work, but, because I could not, without serious dis- 
 proportion, give them in that work, " elaborate " 
 as it was said to be, the extended treatment which 
 I desired, I have provided this in the present volume. 
 This enhances the value of the present work, by 
 placing the contents of its chapters in a systematic 
 relation and connection. It, at the same time, ex- 
 tends the range and widens the usefulness of the 
 larger work, which it so supplements. This to me 
 is important, for, however some philosophers may 
 choose to entertain indifference as to the value of 
 system, that appears to me no high or satisfying 
 philosophic plane in which the mind is content to 
 be the abode of merely individual, sporadic, and 
 unrelated problems. 
 
vi PBEFACE 
 
 There is no lack of philosophical variety in the 
 work. Epistemology, Ontology and Metaphysics, 
 and Ethics, are all represented in its chapters, in 
 whose discussions Psychology and Logic also find 
 freqnent place. 
 
 The chapters on "The Character of Cognitive 
 Acts," "Philosophy and Faith," and "The Phe- 
 nomenology of Pain " appear for the first time. 
 My best thanks are tendered to Mrs Paul Cams 
 for cordial permission to republish the chapters on 
 "The Greatest Problem in Value," and on "Eation- 
 alism and Voluntarism," which appeared in ' The 
 Monist ^ ; to Dr Silas M'Bee, editor of ' The Con- 
 structive Quarterly,' New York, from which journal 
 the chapters on " The Ontological Consciousness " 
 and " The Unity of God and Man " are reprinted ; 
 and to Professor James H. Tufts, University of 
 Chicago, editor of ' The International Journal of 
 Ethics,' from which the chapter on "The Ethical 
 Value of Individuahty " is taken. The chapter on 
 " The Ethics of some Modern World-Theories " ap- 
 peared in the ' Bibliotheca Sacra ' while my dear 
 and distinguished friend, the late Professor G. F. 
 Wright, D.D., LL.D., was editor. All these papers 
 have been revised, and minor alterations and addi- 
 tions made, but without substantially affecting the 
 character of the papers as they originally appeared. 
 In their present form they will, I hope, find a new 
 circle of readers. 
 
 JAMES LIOT)SAY. 
 
 Annick Lodge, Irvine, 
 
 Scotland, Zrd May 1922. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 I. THE GREATEST PROBLEM IN VALUE . . 1 
 n. THE ETHICAL VALUE OF INDIVIDUALITY . 44 
 in. THE CHARACTER OF COGNITIVE ACTS . 84 
 rV. RATIONALISM AND VOLUNTARISM - . 108 
 V. THE ONTOLOGICAL CONSCIOUSNESS . . 138 
 VI. PHILOSOPHY AND FAITH . . . , 162 
 Vn, THE UNITY OF GOD AND MAN . . . 202 
 Vin. THE ETHICS OF SOME MODERN WORLD- 
 THEORIES 226 
 
 IX. THE PHENOMENOLOGY OF PAIN . . 251 
 
 INDEX OF AUTHORS AND SUBJECTS . . 275 
 
Great Philosophical Problems. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 THE GREATEST PROBLEM IN VALUE, 
 
 The greatest problem in value I take to be the trath- 
 value. Truth is not itself value. Eternally valid 
 truths must be held to exist without reference to the 
 judging individual. Such imiversal truths or prin- 
 ciples are known in rational intuition ; they are the 
 norms or standards of all thinking ; and they are, as 
 truths of reason, to be distinguished from facts or 
 the knowledge of particular realities. These WaJirheiten 
 must be held to exist eternally, irrespective of their 
 apprehension or not by the human species. They do 
 not exist simply as having a place ia the stream of 
 practical development, but are universal, necessary, 
 objective. The truth about a fact does not come 
 after the fact, nor the truth about a reality come 
 after the reality : without truth, neither fact nor 
 reality would be. Truth, however, as truth, is to be 
 distinguished from fact and from reality. Truth is 
 that which is true in itself, and is not mere appear- 
 
 A 
 
2 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 ance, as Kant wrongly supposed. When an American 
 philosophical writer says he " cannot conceive by 
 what right a human philosophy has ever announced 
 that the Eternal Order " is " true," I answer, by the 
 best of rights, that of rational intuition. Truth is 
 the most universal presupposition of all thought. 
 But there are ways in which we have come to speak 
 of the truth-value. If we say, " this rose is red," we 
 express only a tmth-value or a truth-judgment. 
 Truth-value, if we do use the word value here, is 
 absolute. Truth is the only value that cannot be 
 denied without contradiction ; it is the only value 
 that is really absolute. Goodness, for example, 
 carries universal validity for every subject ; but 
 it is not vaUd for every object ; in a sense, there- 
 fore, it is not absolute. But there is no object to 
 which the truth test cannot be applied. The validity 
 of truth is absolute, and without condition of any 
 sort. Truth is independent of our knowing, but yet 
 dominates our thought. Truth is thus the central 
 determining power or value of our conscious re- 
 flective life. Truth, in objective significance, is not 
 what James absiu'dly called an " inert static relation " : 
 that cannot be rightly termed " inert " which is in 
 itseK the most potent principle and factor in the 
 world, effecting by its very being or presence the 
 cleavage between the worlds of the true and the 
 false. Even the good presupposes the true, truth 
 being the supreme rational good. Of com'se, all this 
 is without prejudice to the accepted fact that theoretic 
 or truth-values, as apprehended by us, are never 
 untinged by emotional colour. 
 But there is the large class of judgments that go 
 
THE GBEATEST PEOBLEM IN VALUE. 3 
 
 beyond the truth- value ; judgments, I mean, concern- 
 ing what is good, which express not only the objective 
 value-principle of truth, but the subordinate value- 
 principle of morality. Now, the problem of value, 
 as it has appeared in recent German philosophies of 
 the more extreme value-character, has been seen 
 capable of presentation — ]i it is to rest upon any 
 theory of knowledge — only on the presupposition that 
 truth itseK could be treated as value, in the same way 
 and sense as the other values — ^goodness and beauty. 
 Hence the post-Kantian " philosophy of spirit '* has 
 been replaced in the Windelband-Eickertian repre- 
 sentations, by a " philosophy of value,'* of funda- 
 mentally Eromantic character and tendency. But it 
 has not been consistently or successfully done. Win- 
 delband has attempted it in ways or modes which, 
 without justification, subordinate truth-values to the 
 other universally valid values, instead of co-ordinating 
 these last properly, and subordinating them to the 
 truth- values, which may be regarded as, par excellence, 
 philosophy. If it must be allowed that Windelband 
 seeks a theory of knowledge, it must be said that he 
 does so only in a pecuhar sense of the term. Know- 
 ledge for him is apt to consist in realising an ideal, 
 rather than in an intellectual fact. For his ideaUsm 
 is of a very abstract character. He deals not really 
 with the question wherein truth consists, but only 
 with the way in which man reaches it. His task is 
 thus not one as to theoretic truth, nor yet a psy- 
 chological one, but one as to theory of knowledge, 
 or theoretic knowing, in the peculiar sense in which 
 that is meant by him. " Pecuhar," I say, because 
 he treats laws and categories which are usually taken 
 
4 GEBAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 for truth, as mere means thereto. He holds to the 
 doctrine that judgment is an act of the will par excel- 
 lence^ emphasising onr spontaneity in the outgoing 
 of this will-moment in knowledge. In this way he 
 hopes to found a primacy of the practical reason in 
 logic. Windelband fails to realise that the truth- 
 value is a higher inquiry than that after any of the 
 other universally vaUd values, and so he unwarrant- 
 ably inclines to co-ordinate it with them in an un- 
 tenable way. 
 
 There are many defects and inconsistencies in 
 Eickert's value-attempts also, although I am not 
 now called on to detail them. His attempt, however, 
 to equahse the logical and the ethical conscience is, 
 it must be said, a very strained and unsatisfactory 
 affair. He expressly says that the Sollen, as object 
 to the judging subject, is not something to be under- 
 stood, or to be thought, but a Sollen which is tran- 
 scendent, does not exist as fact, but is timelessly 
 valid. He sharply opposes it to being. The Sollen 
 is not pure value, he says : value belongs to the 
 Sollen only as it is related to a recognising subject. 
 Truth, to Eickert, is nothing else than recognition 
 of the Sollen. Now, an unknown logical Sollen in- 
 terpreted through an unknown ethical Sollen seems 
 to me a case of ohscurum per ohseurius ; the logical 
 conscience, we are told, is only a particular form 
 of the ethical conscience in general. The theoretic 
 function is, on Eickert's philosophy of values, errone- 
 ously reduced to a practical one, by the object of 
 knowledge being taken, not as that which is, but as 
 that which ought to be. Eickert's is no more satis- 
 factory than was Fichte's attempt to condition all 
 
THE GEEATEST PEOBLEM IN VALUE 6 
 
 theoretic knowledge on moral law, in crass neglect 
 of the natural order and experience. The funda- 
 mental concept of ethics, it is said, becomes in 
 Eickert's way raised to the dignity of the true ! 
 How can that be, when, on his own showing, the true 
 only reaches its own dignity as drawn from duty- 
 fulfilment ? The dignity of the true he has already 
 destroyed by his reduction of the logical conscience 
 — a procedure which leaves the knowledge-problem 
 quite unsolved. A transcendent Sollen will not 
 satisfy the metaphysical view of thiugs and their pro- 
 found unity, which certainly cannot be subsumed 
 under our moral experience. This would make the 
 human spirit, with the values Eickert provides for 
 it, a simple monstrosity in such a world as that we 
 have on our hands. Duty does not call us to tran- 
 scend consciousness in the absolute fashion projected 
 by Eickert ; such an ougJit-to-he, detached from all 
 thought, feeling, and will, belonging to an absolutely 
 transcendent order, is neither necessary to knowledge 
 nor consonant with it. Kjiowledge belongs to the 
 real order of thiugs, in which the object exists in- 
 dependently of the cognitive act. It is not the case, 
 as Eickert pretends, that knowledge has to do only 
 with the ideal, not with the real : knowledge is a 
 thing of individual experience, and not referable to 
 an abstract and fictional Bewusstsein uberJiaupt, cor- 
 respondent to nothiag tu reality. Such knowledge of 
 the world of reality gives truth or existential judg- 
 ments, not judgments of value. Eickert fails to do 
 any manner of justice to the world of natural reality. 
 Objectivity does not for him exist in being, but is 
 found in what ought-to-be. Obviously, the entire 
 
6 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMB 
 
 procedure of Eickert would make the truth-value an 
 ethical value, as one finds already suggested, long 
 before, in Ulrici.^ Although Ulrici makes truth an 
 ethical idea, he does not mean to deny that the 
 universal logical categories are truth in the form 
 of concept ; but he chooses to concern himself too 
 exclusively with truth as it comes to consciousness 
 in us ; and he makes it an ethical idea, as desired 
 by us as beings of an ethical character and deter- 
 mination. Whether in this he does justice to the 
 place and functions of reason and intellect in the 
 apprehension of truth is another matter, and one on 
 which I am inclined to think he lays a rather one- 
 sided ethical stress. But such a stress was rather 
 unusual in 1873. In the strange fashion already 
 described does Eickert try to carry out his idea of 
 making the theory of knowledge the base of aU 
 philosophy. The object of knowledge is a tran- 
 scendent ** Ought." His theory of knowledge is, of 
 course, ethically swamped. His conclusion, unsatis- 
 factory enough, is that our knowing rests upon a 
 resolution of the will. Surely a not very theoretic 
 finale. The perception of truth is, in my judgment, 
 far too completely an act of the intellect, not directly 
 dependent on the will, to belong, in any primary 
 fashion, to ethical character or choice : one believes 
 on evidence, and has no choice in the matter. Eickert 
 actually takes the position that for the man who 
 wills not truth, its validity is not to be grounded. 
 That is true only where consent of the will is called 
 for, in respect of ethical truth, that there may be 
 harmony of the will with truth already known by 
 
 ^ *aott und der Mensch,* vol. ii. pp. 131-136. 
 
THE GEEATEST PEOBLEM IN VALUE 7 
 
 the reason. The sphere of ethics ought to be dis- 
 tmguished from that of correct thinking. Instead 
 of which, Eickert reduces the truth to the good. 
 Eickert is thus found, in his whole position, badly 
 confounding the psychologically real grounds of judg- 
 ment with the logical grounds of the truth of judg- 
 ment. But the logician does not admit that sub- 
 jective desires and prepossessions have to do with 
 truth. The truth of a logical concept is, to him, 
 independent of experience ; a concept may be a 
 true concept, apart from whether anything real cor- 
 responds to it. Eternal truths, he holds, have nothing 
 to do with the subjectivity of the individual. Eickert 
 fails to recognise knowledge of being, because he does 
 not fully distinguish pure logic, or theory of truth, 
 from theory of knowledge, or noetics. Not psy- 
 chology, but logic, has to do with absolute, uncon- 
 ditioned truth. 
 
 Truth, so taken, is no factual affair, and does not 
 belong to space and time. Truth is eternal and inde- 
 pendent of the judging individual, Husserl not 
 only contends that truth is above all temporality, 
 but holds the absolute truth and validity of logical 
 laws, concepts, and judgments, though with his posi- 
 tions in extenso I am not here concerned. Volkelt 
 has urged that it is reference for proof " to a some- 
 what, separate from us, and not possessed by us, 
 which gives their peculiar significance to the expres- 
 sions of certainty and logical compulsion." Bradley, 
 whose discussion is valuable albeit he does not at all 
 points express himself quite consistently, says " truths 
 must exist in a mind " ; "but the truth itself does 
 not consist in its existence in me " ; yet he adds. 
 
8 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 " truth may not be truth at all apart from its exist- 
 ence " in " finite subjects." ^ To the last expression, 
 some exception may certainly be taken in the light 
 of what has already been, and wiU later be, advanced. 
 He does better when he says that though he " can 
 find in truth the satisfaction of a want," in which 
 case ''its existence" in himself depends "at least 
 very largely " on the will, yet he " cannot regard 
 its nature as subject " to the will.^ The step which 
 Bradley rightly refuses to take was taken by Miinster- 
 berg's voluntarism, which takes truth to be won by 
 wining, by our creative activities. Truth is thus 
 created, not copied. The doer, or, it may be, the deed, 
 not merely finds, but, on this theory, is, the truth. 
 !N"o satisfactory theory of the objectivity of truth is 
 possible on such a basis. Even the voluntarism of 
 Eoyce holds, in a very objectionable form, " that all 
 truth is indeed relati"ve to the expression of our win," 
 although "the will inevitably determines for itseK 
 forms of activity which are objectively valid and 
 absolute." ^ It appears to me that to mix up the 
 will in its action in this fashion is to make the truth 
 question no longer a logical one at all. To that I 
 shall return presently. Bradley, of whom I have 
 spoken, goes on to maintain that truth, like beauty, 
 is, from one side — the side of essence — ^tadependent 
 of the will, although there is another and practical 
 side in which truth involves need and desire.* In 
 this sense, truth is "the satisfaction of a want," but 
 there is truth, for all that, which transcends indi- 
 
 ' Essays in Truth and Reality,' p. 87. ^ Ibid., 
 
 Paper at the Congress of Philosophy in Heidelberg, 190 
 Op. ciL, p. 88. 
 
 p. 87. 
 1908. 
 
THE GEEATEST PEOBLEM IN VALUE 9 
 
 vidua! life.^ The objective and transcendent char- 
 acter of such truth was already finely expressed by 
 Augustine. The idea of truth is central in his pliilo- 
 sophy : he reverts to it in the solution of all ultimate 
 questions. It was well for Aquinas that this was so. 
 ThuSy from all now advanced, truth is "at once 
 dependent and free." Says Mr Joachimj "indepen- 
 dent truth itself " yet lives in " finite minds," but it 
 does not so, in my view, simply and solely as my 
 thought. All this amounts to what I prefer to desig- 
 nate as truth absolute and truth relative, and it is 
 with the former aspect I am now mainly concerned. 
 Truth in this absolute sense is, in its essence, eternal : 
 truth is not made by us, as James and Dewey have 
 matatained. I hold, like Bradley, their supposition 
 to be absurd and untenable. I do not "make" 
 truth save in the subjective sense that, but for my 
 mind and truth's entering into it, truth would not 
 exist for me at aU. But truth itself I have not " made"; 
 no more can I destroy it ; and the objection that 
 there is no objective or independent truth cannot be 
 sustained. It is the nature of truth, not its supposed 
 ' ' making, ' ' that concerns us . Plato would have 
 said, ovBeTTOTe iyevero rj akriOeia, aXX' det e<TTiv. 
 
 Essential truth is not man-made ; there is in- 
 herent absurdity in the supposition, as Bradley has 
 sufficiently shown. Schopenhauer held that truth is 
 the reference of a judgment to something outside 
 itseH, as its sufficient ground, and that intrinsic 
 truth is a contradiction in terms. But that is a 
 narrow view of truth, which, in the full latitude of 
 its signification, cannot be so confined to concepts 
 
 ^ Op. cit., p. 87. 
 
10 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 or formal judgments, but extends to beings or things. 
 Hence Augustine had atready, and rightly, said that 
 " the true is that which is.'' Hegel thought that by 
 truth was chiefly to be imderstood that I Mow how 
 something is ; this is truth only in relation to con- 
 sciousness. Kant, Hegel, and Kuno Fischer regard 
 truth as consisting in the agreement of the concept 
 with its object, as did J. E. Erdmann, to whom " that 
 is true which is known as it is." Aquinas had said, 
 "according to that which it is." But, for aU the 
 talk concerning the adaequatio intellectus cum re, it 
 will be found, I believe, that we are more indebted 
 to Aquinas in this aspect of the matter than to any 
 subsequent philosopher whatsoever. But, critically, 
 we are still faced with the relativity of this agreement. 
 And in aU these cases, the " object," I contend, 
 must be far wider than actual reality, as we shall 
 see. Truth is intrinsic — as Schopenhauer failed to 
 see — ^being a transcendental attribute of Being. I 
 do not agree with Lotze that truths exist only in the 
 thought of a thinker, for there is truth that is before 
 him, and waits for his finding or discovery. It is 
 this objectivity of truth that has impelled to truth's 
 quest at all times. Lotze, however, thinks the mind 
 " on]y recognises truth In as far as it belongs to its 
 own nature from aU eternity," a somewhat far-fetched 
 connection ; " truth that was originally unconnected 
 with it," it could not "comprehend"; "it cannot 
 be external to him, who is to recognise it " ; "its 
 recognition is only thinkable as cognition of our own 
 being in it." ^ But the externality of truth need 
 stu-ely not be such as to keep us from knowing it, 
 
 ^ ' Mikrokosmos,' vol. ii. p. 698. 
 
THE GEEATEST PEOBLEM IN VALUE 11 
 
 any more than the externahty of nature prevents oiir 
 recognition of it : in both cases the mind is destined 
 to knowledge ; in the case of truth, it is made a 
 real and inward possession. But I should beg to be 
 excused from taking Bradley's " I have now a tooth- 
 ache " as a sample of the etfrnality of truth, because 
 both it, and the reasons supporting it, appear to me 
 absurdly inadequate. ^ I hold truth to be one, and 
 reality one, but the unity of truth — the congruous 
 and harmonious character of all truth — is not to me 
 the unity of a whole made up, by treating truth as an 
 existent, of partial truths, all of which, as parts of 
 a whole, are only partially true. There are many 
 concentric circles within the orb of truth. But, in 
 the view which I am critically speaking of, " the 
 true " is said to be " the Whole," short of which no 
 isolated truth can be completely true. This whole, 
 however, is supposed to be an organic unity or sig- 
 nificant whole, " all its constituent elements re- 
 ciprocally " involving one another or determining 
 one another's being. Such is the supposed whole 
 of truth, short of which no truths are perfectly true. 
 Certain thinkers have therefore said that no single 
 judgment is absolutely true ; but, in that case, this 
 judgment itself cannot be absolutely true. This 
 whole theory of truth has too many difficulties, some 
 of which I am now pointing out, while some have 
 been dealt with by Mr Bertrand Eussell,^ and some 
 by Dr Aveling,^ for it to be satisfactory. There are 
 
 ^ * Essays in Truth and Reality/ p. 340. Bradley might, like Pascal, 
 have cured his toothache with mathematics, and found in the latter a 
 better example of the eternality of truth. 
 
 2 'Proc. Arist. Soc.,' 1907. » Ibid., 1915. 
 
12 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEM8 
 
 many isolated judgments or single propositions which, 
 as Eussell remarks, must be held " true in a sense in 
 which their contradictories are not true." Those 
 propositions I take for true, which are in character 
 universal, and not particular ; the particular is 
 immediately experienced, and neither asks to be, nor 
 can be, proved. No particular truth, indeed, is true, 
 except through universal truth. But then, only in 
 the particular can the universal be real. However, 
 the general truth is not derived from the particular 
 truth ; such is seen to be the case in such a general 
 truth as that all the diameters of the same circle are 
 equal. Bradley makes truth ideal, yet practically 
 treats it as an existent, and merges it in reality. 
 But even when truth is taken as value, such value 
 is valid, but not existent. But truth is to Bradley 
 in a sense a failure, since it comes short, in view of 
 his ' Appearance and Eeality,' of being " quite iden- 
 tical with reality," in which latter it may even be 
 "swallowed up." But this cannot be, since truth 
 is about reality, with which it is not to be thus 
 identified or confounded. Truth is not to be, as 
 Dewey has said of Bradley, " a sort of transcendent 
 essence on its own account," ^ as we shall presently 
 see. 
 
 Truth is not merged or transformed into reality ; 
 completed truth must still be truth, and not a merg- 
 ing in the concrete whole, termed the Absolute. 
 There are primary and self-evident truths or prin- 
 ciples which are recalcitrant to such a mode of treat- 
 ment, as connected only with concrete reality. It 
 is said that *' truth is a word which has no meaning 
 
 1 'Mind/ July 1907, p. 334. 
 
THE GEEATEST PEOBLEM IN VALUE 13 
 
 without the implicate of reality." ^ Now, when it 
 is said that truth and reahty are correlative, or that 
 truth is the intellectual equivalent of reahty, though 
 the range of the correctness of the statement may be 
 obvious, yet it is not to me wholly satisfying, since 
 it involves reality being taken in a sense so unusual 
 as to seem unreal. To make it satisfactory, we should 
 need to extend the sphere of being or reaUty so as to 
 include truths that seem unreal in a merely factual 
 sense. The figures of geometry, for example, must 
 be held real, as being the true ones of conception, a 
 point which MiQ failed to appreciate. Erdmann is 
 therefore found saying that a so-called actual parabola 
 is none, while a true one is fchat which is found in its 
 formula. Locke strongly held mathematical truths — 
 of figures and their properties — ^true and real apart 
 from all "real existence in matter." The universal 
 thought-forms, as in logic and mathematics, severed 
 from aU determinate content, can be object of thought 
 and inquiry, and are then neither unreal nor untrue. 
 Their objective truth and validity cannot properly 
 be denied. They are no hypotheses, framed to ex- 
 plain determinate appearances. Such thought is 
 still a fact of mental life, valid and indispensable. 
 The question is one of theory of knowledge, not of 
 metaphysics. We may say their objective vahdity 
 is sui generis, but the judgments belong to the sphere 
 of truth all the same, and no theory or system of 
 truth but must take full account of them. Factual 
 truth means that the quahty of the facts is such that 
 they are true. But truth cannot be confined to 
 brute fact ; there is also prepositional truth, to 
 
 1 G. T. Ladd, 'Theory of Knowledge,' p. 58. 
 
14 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 which being cannot without stultification be denied, 
 if any comprehensive view of truth is to be taken. 
 This seems necessary to remember, when we are told 
 that all truth " must be referred to the test of reality." ^ 
 Of course, I admit, in what has been said, that being 
 real imports more than simply being, which latter 
 is the widest and most fundamental category.^ So 
 wide that it is taken by Suarez, Tongiorgl, and other 
 Scholastic thiakers to include those entities of reason 
 which have objective being solely in the intellect. 
 They do not, however, exactly rank them, ontologic- 
 ally, with actual being, a fact not always carefully 
 kept in mind by Continental writers on the subject. 
 They are stiU ideal being. Eosmini held that, in the 
 last analysis, the truth of a thing is just its being. 
 Truth and beiag were to him equivalent. The truth 
 of knowledge was, to him, known being. What was 
 conformable to ideal being was, for him, true. But 
 such a complete identification of truth with being, as 
 Eosmini made, cannot be held admissible or correct, 
 since truth is not beiag, but only a quality, property, 
 or attribute of being. We see, then, that there is 
 objective truth in itself as weU as truth for us. 
 
 Again, when it is contended that truth means such 
 a judgment as corresponds to the being of the really 
 existent, we may again feel that this reference to 
 existents, however we may have to accept it, does 
 not seem satisfyingly to cover the whole conceivable 
 range and extent of truth. Of course, a truth is not 
 truth, if it be not real, and so we are haunted by 
 
 1 G. T. Ladd, ' Theory of Knowledge/ p. 454. 
 
 2 Cf. my Discussion of "The Logic of the New Realism" in 'The 
 Philosophical Review/ September 1920. 
 
THE GEEATEST PEOBLEM IN VALUE 15 
 
 the shadow of reality again, and yet the truth may be 
 so ideal that the thought of the really existent is 
 repellent in such a connection. Yet there are im- 
 portant thinkers to-day who allow only those judg- 
 ments to be true, of which the objective fact is really 
 existent. Surely there are evident judgments, where 
 no concrete actuality of the objectives are concerned, 
 that cannot be false. Mathematics and formal logic 
 are examples in their remoteness from ordinary 
 reality : truth, in their purest results, springs up in 
 independence — ^it might even be said, because of the 
 independence — of real existents, since they both 
 belong to the sphere of things not seen. Why, then, 
 can it be quite satisfactory for philosophers to keep 
 on binding all truth to association with the really 
 existent ? These truths — ^I mean, of pure mathe- 
 matics and formal logic — may be pure abstractions, 
 but you do not deny them the name of truth, because 
 they are abstract and independent of reality, even 
 though they may not be incapable of being brought 
 into some sort of relation to, and bearing upon, reality. 
 I am, of course, well aware of those philosophical 
 quarters in which it is blankly denied that there is 
 any abstract truth, or truth in itself, but I do not 
 think such denial is conformable to true reason. The 
 truths of pure mathematics and formal logic, of which 
 I have been speaking, are completely and uncondi- 
 tionally true, independently of their place in this or 
 that particular mind. So absolute are the truths of 
 pure logic that to deny them is simply to reassert 
 them in new form. Eoyce seems to me right in claim- 
 ing that recent thought and discovery in respect of 
 the system of geometrical truth, and the sphere of 
 
16 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 logical analysis, tend to a more rigid and objective 
 conception of truth, to fundamental thinking. There 
 was no occasion to mar this statement by tacking 
 his absurd absolute voluntarism on to it. The truth- 
 relations seem, in such cases, to be, in a sense, ab- 
 solute ; one may at least say, free of contingency 
 and of caprice. Yet the Absolute seems to me a 
 conception that goes beyond mathematics as con- 
 cerned with the quantitative, which, however in- 
 definitely expanded, is no more than one form of 
 the infinite. 
 
 But the independence of truth is to be seen in the 
 world of concrete reality also. Professor Lloyd 
 Morgan, in an able and interesting paper, concludes 
 to the presence of extra-mental " truth in the struc- 
 ture of the knowable world," which, he says, ''may 
 not yet be known — ^perhaps may never be known 
 by us," but which " is there all the same " ; also, 
 "truth in the structure of the sphere of knowledge," 
 marked by consistency ; and finally, " truth as corre- 
 spondence " of the two spheres — knowledge and the 
 knowable — just spoken of.^ He does not mean any- 
 thing " static " by truth-structure, since the know- 
 able world is in the making, under development and 
 evolution. This line of thought does not necessarily 
 help us greatly, as it stands, toward the determina- 
 tion of absolute and eternal truth. I mean, individual 
 phenomena m the empiric world, simply taken, do 
 not enable you to reach absolute truth, only super- 
 sensible law being the reaUy true. But it is of interest 
 and value over against the contention of James that 
 "theoretic truth" dwells ''within the mind," It 
 
 1 'Proc. Arist. Soc.,' 1917. 
 
THE GEEATEST PROBLEM I:N' VALUE 17 
 
 militates in certain ways against the pragmatism and 
 instmmentalism that make all trnth instrumental 
 and relative, and reduce truth to a biological and 
 psychological value. Truth, in such a view, grows 
 with our growth, and changes with our needs. Truth 
 is, on this theory, just our control of the objects of 
 experience, and that is the use of scientific hypotheses. 
 The truth of ideas ties in their empirical value, in 
 how far they " w^ork." This is made the sole criterion 
 of truth. Truth is a mere social product, to tMs view. 
 A useful enough aspect of truth, so far as it goes, but 
 inadequate, as a theory of truth, since it is too in- 
 dividualistic, and never gets so far as to become 
 objective, and supra-temporal in significant import ; 
 it is one which was not whoUy absent from Socrates, 
 the Sophists, the Stoics, and the Epicureans, though 
 developed and set iq novel forms in our time. But 
 the true iq itself is not sought, nor beUeved in ; what 
 is true is true only for the subject ; individual ia- 
 stiact figures too largely in pragmatist knowledge, 
 instead of the theoretic knowledge which seeks after 
 universal rules. But will does not make a know- 
 ledge-content for truth ; truth in its objectivity is 
 independent of the knowing subject's acknowledgment 
 of it. Akin to the pragmatist view is that of Hoffding 
 when, in his ' Problems of Philosophy,' he makes truth 
 a dynamic concept, as representing the application 
 of mental energy ; but this is only one side of the 
 truth, and is defective in respect of the other aspect, 
 on which I am insisting. It is mere gratuitous dog- 
 matism when Hoffding says every static aspect of 
 truth must be given up in favour of practicality and 
 working- value. His view, true so far as it 
 
 B 
 
18 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEM8 
 
 remains uaconvincing, subjective, and lacking in 
 grasp of truth- or reality- values. Lloyd Morgan's 
 view, which I have touched upon, is objective over 
 against such subjectivity, but his view is also evolu- 
 tionary, and, in some senses at least, relativistic. 
 Says he, '* Ask the physicist, the chemist, the physiolo- 
 gist — ask any representative man of science — where 
 truth lives and has its home awaiting discovery, and 
 he will say it is out there tu that which it is his special 
 business to interpret." So little does the scientist 
 " make " truth, or even empirical truths, and the 
 scientific conscience will remaia refractory to being 
 subsumed under Eickert's ethical conscience. 
 
 It may be noted that in Dr Schiller's rhetorical 
 declamations agaiast " The EationaUstic Conception 
 of Truth," he is really concerning himself with how 
 truth is in the subject ; he is simply speaking in a 
 different tongue from those who contend that truth 
 is objective and independent, and signifies agreement 
 with transcendent reality.^ Eefutation can obviously 
 not be effected by him in such a way. The truth is, 
 that in our knowledge of the objectively real world, 
 taking reaUty in its widest sense, as in our knowledge 
 of the ethical world, we run up against standards of 
 truth that are absolute, and try in vain to rid our- 
 selves of truth which is absolute and eternal. In 
 these realms we come upon truths, axioms, principles, 
 laws, and ideals of reason which are universally 
 vaUd and eternal. These carry for us objective 
 vahdity as principles and laws of things, and as 
 norms that regulate aU thinking and aU knowing, 
 because in them reason is realised. Logical laws, like 
 
 1 *Proc. Arist. Soc./ 1909. 
 
THE GEEATEST PEOBLEM IN VALUE 19 
 
 the law of identity and the law of contradiction, 
 suggest themselves as examples. Logical axioms are 
 universal, because true, not true because imiversal. 
 In these, as in the case of absolute truths in pure 
 mathematics, I beUeve, with EusseU as against Eoyce, 
 that we must hold the truths quite independent — ^in 
 their absolute truth-aspect — of our constructive pro- 
 cesses. The relations of numbers, or such a state- 
 ment as that two straight lines cannot enclose a space, 
 are examples of a condition of things not to be altered 
 without contradiction, by any will-determination of 
 ours whatsoever. As truths of reason, their con- 
 tradictories are impossible. Of course, the objectivity 
 of number carries no spatial signification, as Dr A. T, 
 Shearman properly notes.^ Besides, the truths of 
 mmaber are independent of all time and circum- 
 stance, and are not of the nature of real existents : 
 their reality consists in their vaUdity. These are 
 the positions maintained by Bolzano, by Lotze, con- 
 sistently or not, in his ' Logic,' and by Husserl. 
 Again, if we make truth consist in the agreement of 
 the subject with the object, we see the difficulty of 
 this in the ethical sphere, where the object is no 
 real or concrete affair. It is another proof that 
 object or reality must, as I have contended, be taken 
 in a far wider sense than philosophers have done — 
 must be taken to mean an object physical or mental, 
 apart from the perceiving mind. Whatever the 
 nature of the object, our thought is true because the 
 object is as we think it. So far well ; but I do not 
 think we have sufficiently probed the true when we 
 have, in current philosophical fashion, made it the 
 
 1 'The Scope of Formal Logic/ p. 139. 
 
20 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 mere reflection of being, and have not regarded it as 
 something which has itself being. 
 
 There has in recent years been a quickened interest 
 in the nature of truth, which is good to see ; but I 
 am by no means sure that any great or satisfying 
 philosophical advance has been made. There is still 
 need, as Leibniz pointed out, not to be content to 
 consider truth " from the outside and merely to call 
 it by its name, but penetrate into its recesses and per- 
 ceive distinctly the logic and harmony contained in 
 it." But the current conception of truth as agree- 
 ment with reality does not seem to partake greatly 
 of this inward character, for it regards thought and 
 thing as two very isolated terms, and makes truth 
 consist in the mere agreement of the former with the 
 latter. But knowledge or thought is thus a mere 
 pendant of things, and deeper or anterior aspects of 
 the true do not seem to me to be reached in this 
 way, I mean, there is truth of being — ontological, 
 or if you will, transcendental truth — ^not reached by 
 such posterior descriptive knowledge. But, although 
 truth is invoked in being, the concept of truth is not 
 to be thought of as involved in the concept of being : 
 the distinctiveness of each is to be maintained. 
 When truth is said to be an attribute of Being, that 
 does not mean that it is something over and above 
 Being : it is just Being as related to mind or intellect. 
 Truth is a universal and transcendental predicate of 
 aU Being. It was in this sense that Augustine validly 
 defined the true, — " Verum est id, quod est," al- 
 though Tongiorgi thmks it determines rather the sub- 
 ject of the truth than the reason of the truth itself.^ 
 
 ' * Institutiones Philosophicae/ vol. ii. p. 53. 
 
THE GEEATEST PEOBLEM IN VALUE 21 
 
 Truth is essentially inclusive of being ; the form of 
 the true calls, by its very nature, for being. These 
 remarks are corrective of Eosmini's view, already 
 referred to. 
 
 !N"ot much has been done by pragmatism toward a 
 coherent theory of truth, and the efforts of Bradley 
 and others toward a monistic theory of tnith — a 
 logical monism resting, in a certain way, on an ontolo- 
 gical monism — is by no means in all respects satisfy- 
 ing, as I have shown. Unity of truth, no doubt, we 
 must have, but whether it is to be such a simple 
 unity — organic in the sense meant in that theory — or 
 whether it may not be, as I think it is, the unity of 
 harmony, mutual consistency or agreement between 
 different grades or circles or levels of truth, is the 
 question. Bergson also, it should be noted, is fun- 
 damentally preoccupied with existence, to the neglect 
 of pure thought, as in logic and mathematics, so 
 that I conceive his theory of knowledge and of truth 
 to be defective. I am by no means sure that the 
 modern attempts at simplicity and unification, in 
 respect of truth, are improvements upon the forgotten 
 efforts of the older philosophers. They saw the diffi- 
 culty of arriving at a single definition of truth, its 
 significance being so wide at the fullest, and the forms 
 of truth so diverse and variant. But they viewed 
 truth, in whichsoever of its many forms found, as 
 always expressive of some sort of equation or cor- 
 respondence, although I do not think even this 
 covered the whole case for truth, as I shall presently 
 show. They distinguished between the different 
 kinds of truth, however, and surely philosophy is 
 still concerned with definition, distinction, and differ- 
 
22 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 ence, through which alone satisfactory ultimate unity 
 can be reached. Some of them enimierated logical 
 truth, or the correspondence between thought and 
 its laws ; conceptual truth, or the correspondence 
 between thought and object ; ontological — sometimes 
 termed transcendental — truth, or the correspond- 
 ence of thought with being ; and moral truth. But 
 the true was practically regarded as matter of pos- 
 terior knowledge or aspect only. Others spoke of 
 Veritas entis, Veritas cognitionis, and Veritas signi, while 
 yet others made the distinctions of " entitative," 
 " objective," and *' formal " truth, the last including 
 signs. They all recognised the importance of the 
 fxmdamental category of being, as the ground of all 
 truth — ^that truth ** by which a thing is what it is " ; 
 and we have need to recognise the manifold senses in 
 which we still speak of being or reality. 
 
 Truth may be the simple equivalent of reality, so 
 long as you are only speaking of things, but there 
 is wider reality than that of things, and to this wider 
 reality truth or thought is related. Indeed, Schelling 
 preferred to understand truth as agreement of a 
 thought-content with itself, rather than agreement 
 of thought with an object. But this latter has its 
 truth and value, and it does not seem that it can be 
 set aside in this way. But it is not enough to say 
 that that which is, has truth of beiug. If we say the 
 object of my thought is always reality, then reality 
 must be more widely taken than concrete reality. 
 Would the logician think of denying, iu respect of 
 thoughts or of feelings, that they exist — have truth 
 of being 1 The reality of thought lies, of course, in 
 its bemg thought, the reality of feeUng in its being 
 
THE GEEATEST PEOBLEM IN VALUE 23 
 
 felt. In like manner, we say a law or a relation exists 
 or is real, but its being or reality is not that of things. 
 But would the older procedure be sustained to-day 
 when it said that a concept, which had admittedly 
 truth of being in it, was not a true concept, because 
 no reality existed corresponding to it *? Conceptual 
 truth only, if you will, but still truth after its kind. 
 If the logician thinks a truth, which is necessary to 
 thought, but has no outward reality existing corre- 
 sponding to it, is his truth to be held, as in the older 
 view, not true 1 Must we not recognise that there 
 is a truth or logic of consistency, as weU as a truth 
 or logic of factual experience ? In which case, the 
 accordance of the notions — ^whose laws of reality are 
 derived from reason — is the criterion of truth. This 
 is knowledge through judgment or reflection, into 
 which error may enter through default of reason, 
 while the other case — ^that of the object in perception 
 — ^is knowledge by intuition. But not even experi- 
 ence, properly conceived, is tied down to truths or 
 judgments that relate to reality, in the ordinary 
 sense of that term, Eeality should therefore stand 
 for anything that may affect consciousness, whether 
 it be a fact of nature, or a mental fact, standing 
 apart from the perceiving mind. Surely i£ truth is 
 to be taken as correlative of reality, reality must be 
 construed in a very wide sense indeed, i£ there is to 
 be a thoroughly consistent procedure in dealing with 
 supposed being or reality. At any rate, what many- 
 faceted terms being and reality are, must be more 
 taken account of in truth discussions. Something 
 more is required than merely to talk of " the thorough- 
 going unity of reality," when it is evident that reality 
 
24 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 is being restricted to one particular sense, that of 
 outer reality. But the fact is that truth is really 
 that to which reahty should, in essence and character, 
 conform or correspond, rather than something that, 
 less satisfactorily, must conform to reality. For 
 there cannot be reality — whatever appearance there 
 may be — ^unless the true has anteriorly gone to the 
 making of it. It is the losing sight of this inner aspect 
 of the case that has made truth remain the outside 
 affair — defective, as Bradley admits, because it is 
 merely " about " reahty — it has been so much aUowed 
 to be. But truth is that transcendental quahty of 
 being which relates it to intellect. We have no right 
 to neglect the other side of the shield, the adaequatio 
 rei cum intellectu, as is almost invariably done. For 
 there is the important sense in which truth has its 
 place first in the intellect, and only later in things. 
 The theory of truth as correspondence with fact or 
 reality utterly breaks down in the sphere of religious 
 truth, for there truth is itself fact and reality, freeing 
 — as thought of God — what is bound, and quickening 
 what is dead. Things are true through a first or 
 primal truth which made them what they are, and 
 that primal truth any adequate or thorough theory 
 of truth must seek to win, or at least to recognise. 
 The truth of first principles belongs to such primal 
 truth. 
 
 l^ow, in the case of such divisions of truth as have 
 been considered, it has been said that they are unified 
 in God who, as the supreme or transcendent truth, 
 is each of them without limit. But that is scarcely 
 a satisfactory procedure, since what we are seeking is 
 a coherent system or view of truth to human appre- 
 
THE GEEATEST PEOBLEM IN VALUE 25 
 
 hension. There are inherently good reasons for not 
 now wishing to consider thus truth in God, where it 
 is all-embracing and infinitely complete, but as we 
 may systematically apprehend it. That view has, 
 however, the advantage, it seems to me, that it 
 lends itself more readily to an organic view of truth 
 than does any mere simi or aggregate. But I do not 
 think thought is advanced when Aquinas tries to 
 prove that God is truth. ^ It is not satisfactory to 
 say with Lotze, in his ' Logic,' that " truth and the 
 knowledge of truth consist only in the laws of inter- 
 connection which are found to obtain universally 
 within a given set of ideas." This is characteristically 
 a too subjective mode of putting the case, in which 
 ideas figure too much as divorced from reality and 
 experience. I mean, it seems to me too conceptual, 
 too little ontological, in its mode of representation. 
 This task, though it is not now my main concern, 
 must LQvolve taking account of the vast connection 
 of all knowledges, and the linking up and binding 
 together of individual truths, into a perfectly har- 
 monious system or synoptic view of truth. I have 
 already spoken of the unity of truth, and unity 
 speUs such connection. In this systematic whole or 
 universe of truth, each individual truth, having truth 
 and value in itseK independently of its significance 
 for the whole, has still its place and its worth ; for 
 there it ministers to the highest end or purpose of 
 the whole, but it does so as being already truth. 
 But the whole is no mere aggregate or sum. For 
 such an aggregate would not be an organic view of 
 truth. For my own part, I reject the position that 
 1 "Contra Gent.," I. c. LX. 
 
26 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 " the true is the Whole," because it offers me a quan- 
 titative conception — that of mere totality — when I 
 want truth as something qualitative — having the 
 quaUty of being true. Truth and totality are two 
 different conceptions. As if because I have the 
 whole of a thing, it must be true ! I am speaking of 
 what may be eventually regarded as a metaphysical 
 conception or view of truth when I speak of the unity 
 of truth as a system which has being. But totality 
 is a concept of relation : truth is intrinsic fact. 
 
 We now see what kind of value, if value it should 
 be called, truth may be taken to be, namely, a real 
 spiritual appearance, pure, untroubled, objective to, 
 and independent of us, and ideally rea.ched or appre- 
 hended by us. Truth is in this sense absolute. This 
 is, no doubt, truth in the abstract, but it is truth 
 with which I have chosen to concern myself, in main- 
 taining that it is not value, in the sense in which 
 we commonly speak of goodness and beauty as values. 
 We may call it truth- or reason-value, no doubt, 
 meaning that it simply is. It is truth which is not 
 affected by the influence of feeling upon our actual 
 thinking. It is truth whose validity is self-evident, 
 or if you will, self-existent. It is somewhat incorrect 
 to say of such truth, as Dr Schiller does, that " there 
 is no 'knowing without valuing.'' ^ Such truth as I 
 have been speaking of remains truth, did we neither 
 know it nor value it. It rests, however, on the pre- 
 supposition of a real intellect, without which such 
 objective truth could not, in an important sense, be. 
 But still, the search for truth presupposes the exist- 
 ence of truth. As value exists only for a conscious 
 
 ^ ' Humanism,' p. 10. 
 
THE GEEATE8T PEOBLEM IIsT VALUE 27 
 
 subject, trath in this sense should not be called value, 
 and our knowing it is not necessarily valuing it, in 
 any proper sense of the term. It awaits no consent 
 of our will to its being true, but demands acceptance 
 nolens volens. All truth is logical, so far as it is truth, 
 though logic is, of course, concerned only with the 
 formal aspect of truth. It is not a source of material 
 truth, which is found in experience. But there is a 
 relative aspect, in which truth has a relation to us 
 — ^in a subjective sense. In this sense, truth may 
 be viewed as a species of value, as it becomes the 
 satisfaction of a want in us. But that is a very sub- 
 jective and defective view, when it is put forward 
 as the whole theory of truth. In this connection 
 I am, of course, not concerned to deny the prag- 
 matist contention as to the part played by feeling 
 upon our thought, when forming our subjective con- 
 ceptions of truth in practical life and action. But 
 even there, the transcendent element in knowing 
 should not be lost sight of. Nor is the objectivity of 
 truth or knowledge to be sacrificed, even as was 
 done by Lotze, when he admitted " the completely 
 human subjectivity of aU our knowledge," and held 
 that " this universal character of subjectivity, be- 
 longing to all knowledge, can settle nothing as to its 
 truth or untruth." ^ The world of reality is not so 
 lost to us that " the changing world of ideas " is all 
 we have to work upon. 
 
 But I return to the primacy of the truth-value, 
 with which I started. That primacy cannot be sur- 
 rendered to those who would reduce the true to the 
 good, or subordinate it thereto. The truth-value is, 
 
 ^ 'Metaphysics/ vol. i. p. 220. 
 
28 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 in my view, to be ranked as conceptually prior, and 
 superior in quality or excellence, to the values of 
 goodness and beauty. The priority of truth is seen 
 in the fact that, in expressing what simply is, it 
 states the ontologicaUy true ; it is in closer relation, 
 so to speak, to being than is goodness, which latter 
 waits on desire, which is absent from the concept of 
 being ; and in its appeal to reason or intellect, the 
 true is apprehended by the highest, divinest faculty 
 in man. Goodness comes naturally and necessarily 
 after truth, because, in its appeal to feeling, will, 
 and desire, it is constituted by what is of the nature 
 of addition to the true. This is so, because the good 
 is appreciated by the reason or intellect also, seeing 
 that a good, to be desired, must be known and re- 
 cognised or understood. In other words, more than 
 being or existence is involved in the idea of the good, 
 as the object of desire. Truth has to do with being 
 simply ; it is more simple, more abstract, more abso- 
 lute, than the good ; goodness is, in some sort, a 
 desirable accompaniment of being. That is to say, 
 there is a connotation in goodness not present in 
 truth as concerned with pure beiag. Yet the true 
 is a good, and the good is something true. That 
 moral goodness must itself be a process of the real 
 is a not very satisfactory form of expression found in 
 certain Neo-Hegelian presentations, and it only too 
 readily lends countenance to the long-standing objec- 
 tion that this mode of thought too easily merges 
 ethical interests in those of ontology. Moral goodness 
 is ethically good over agaiast the whole existent 
 real ; that is its ethical quality. Lotze's metaphysical 
 position, that truth is not the prius, but dependent 
 
THE GEEATEST PEOBLEM IN VALUE 29 
 
 on the realm of the good, is one which, in my view, 
 cannot be sustained, because it imports very imper- 
 fect appreciation of the primal and absolute Eeason, 
 which is at the base and bottom of things. He thinks 
 it is impossible there should be "an absolute prius " 
 of forms of any necessary sort, but with glaring 
 inconsistency makes metaphysical truth depend upon 
 a world that rests on the principle of the good, so 
 making the form of the good a pre-esistent affair 
 after all.^ As if the ascription of good would endow 
 truth with an objective character which did not belong 
 to it in itself ! Lotze's whole denial of absolute truth 
 is to be decisively rejected, as ill-supported and un- 
 tenable : it is part of the relativity and subjectivity 
 of his whole position. Truth, relative and empirical, 
 is all Lotze has to give us. It is satisfactory to find 
 Ulrici, to whom I have already referred, making the 
 concept of the good rest upon that of the true, despite 
 his treatment of the true as an ethical idea. Better, 
 at any rate, than Dr Schiller's absurd attempt to 
 subsume the true under the good, which only a de- 
 fective metaphysical sense could be content to do.^ 
 For the good, as resting upon the true, is our rational 
 end. 
 
 Dr Schiller is by no means alone in the mistaken 
 notion that the good is such an ultimate and un- 
 analysable notion ; but it is quite delusive to suppose 
 that the good is imaffected by any truth about what 
 is real. An excellent example of this untenable 
 position is afforded by E. L. I^ettleship's view of the 
 good, as held by Plato, as " the condition of the logical 
 prius " of being, truth, and order, and not to be 
 
 ^ 'Metaphysics,' vol. i. p, 207. ^ * Humanism,' p. 11. 
 
30 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 "identified" with any one of them. Whether the 
 ensemble of Plato's teaching held such a rigid, clear- 
 cut theory of the good, as is here represented, need 
 not now be inquired into, as Plato has at least given 
 grounds for it. But such a claim, by whomsoever 
 made, cannot be sustained, such a priority of good 
 being non-existent and due to misconception of the 
 nature of the good. A good so anterior and imre- 
 lated to anything, and so imdefined in character, 
 cannot be satisfactory.^ I have already spoken of it 
 in connection with Lotze. I may add that Windel- 
 band, in his recent work on Plato, says that the good- 
 in-itself of Plato merely meant the concept of the 
 absolute purpose — ^world-purpose^ — an essentially for- 
 mal determination (p. 100). It was only in this 
 sense, he thinks, that Plato made the good the cause 
 of all being and knowing. We must not, in any 
 case, overlook the criterion of the good, as " some- 
 thing that must," as I have said elsewhere, "be 
 determined by the laws and ideals of reason." ^ The 
 good " presupposes the true, and the knowledge of 
 it is founded on being." ^ We have no right to give 
 an irrational cast to ethical good, or to be led by bad 
 psychology into grounding moral distinctions in feel- 
 ing rather than in reason. The good desired must 
 be ideal good, desired for its own intrinsic worth and 
 
 * What I have said here, and more fully in my Article on " Le 
 Syst^me de Proclus" in the ' Revue de M^taphysique et de Morale,* 
 Sept, 1921, pp. 501-502, in criticism of Plato, has since found some 
 support in the remarks of Hoffding in his * Bemerkungen iiber den 
 platonischen Dialog Parmenides,' p. 52. He finds the mystical and 
 the rational elements in Plato on occasion in sharp opposition to each 
 other. 
 
 ^ 'Studies in European Philosophy,' p. 339. ^ ibjd.^ p, 339^ 
 
THE GBEATEST PEOBLEM II!^ VALUE 31 
 
 value. Such good may be, and indeed is, universally 
 valid, but there is nothing, in the nature of the good, 
 that detracts from the primary character of the 
 truth-value, as applicable test of all objects as well 
 as all subjects. We may say, with Aquinas, that 
 there is a sense in which every entity is true, but 
 it is manifestly absurd to try to confine true and 
 false to mere propositions. In plain fact and actual 
 usage, the true is often taken, broadly, as equivalent 
 to the real. If we speak of true gold, it is because 
 there intelligibly is false gold ; iE we speak of true 
 hair, it is because there is, in a significant sense, false 
 hair ; into the character of these and similar falsities, 
 I am not now concerned to inquire ; it is enough to 
 note that there are intelligible and important senses 
 in which the truth test can be applied to objects, 
 and is not confined to propositions. True as an entity 
 in one sense may be, it may be false as related to our 
 thought. 
 
 I turn from goodness to another value, that of 
 beauty. Beauty may not be a transcendental quality 
 of being, but the concept of the beautiful, follows cer- 
 tain transcendental concepts. Beauty is very closely 
 connected with the true and the good, both of which 
 it presupposes. Through it a clearer concept of the 
 true and the good may be reached. But the beautiful 
 is not synonymous with the true, since there are many 
 true things that are ugly. Neither the true nor the 
 good is necessarily pleasing, as is the case with beauty. 
 Not Keats alone has identified truth and beauty, but 
 many philosophers also. This, I do not wish to do, 
 but to maintain a distiactiveness for beauty, as was 
 done by Kant and Schiller. Kant stood for " free " 
 
32 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAIi PEOBLEMS 
 
 beauty. We cannot say, " beauty is truth, truth 
 beauty," making a blank identity of them ; we must 
 expUcate the senses in which both terms are to be 
 understood in making such a statement. Not only 
 must we avoid the mistake of making truth and 
 beauty identical, but shun still more the folly of 
 those who would rank beauty above truth. Even 
 Hegel was too much inclined to treat truth and 
 beauty as one and the same, the beautiful being but 
 the shining manifestation of the idea — a true but 
 incomplete account of beauty, though his theory is 
 of high value. The close connection of beauty with 
 the true is seen in the appeal of beauty to reason 
 or intellect in aesthetic contemplation, where even 
 Schopenhauer proclaimed the absence of will, as in 
 the case of the good. Ultimately one must hold 
 beauty to be a revelation of reason, reason in a sen- 
 suous form, for it conveys truth or thought of reason. 
 This is not to be wondered at when we consider 
 such elements as completeness or perfection of parts, 
 order or proportion, &c., which engage reason- 
 elements of appreciation. We may rest in the beauty 
 of a great picture, but it is, at the same time, ex- 
 pression and token of truth. But desire is not here 
 active, as in the case of the good, though Baumgarten 
 did postulate excitation of desire ; our delight in 
 beauty springs from contemplation, apart from 
 possession ; in such apprehension of beauty, the 
 powers employed are very largely those that belong 
 to reason or the cognitive order, although Kant 
 thought there was also present a harmony with 
 striving and purposeful endeavour. Aesthetic feel- 
 ing is consequent on the primary intellectual apprehen- 
 
THE GEEATEST PEOBLEM m VALUE 33 
 
 sioiij so that there is a reason-feeling in the perceiving 
 subject. But that does not mean that beauty is 
 not to be loved for its own sake or intrinsic worth. 
 While beauty has its relative aspect or truth, yet 
 objectivity and universality can be claimed for the 
 beautiful. Beauty is thus what Bradley called " the 
 self -existent pleasant." But the appreciation of the 
 beautiful is not self-grounded, but rests on truth of 
 being. It is appreciation of an ideal — an ideal of 
 perfection perceived in the object. Kant ruled out 
 even the idea of perfection from his '' free " beauty. 
 
 Already in Plato it was seen what beauty alone 
 could do for our knowledge of the good. Yet Plato 
 would rend the bond between the beautiful and the 
 good, when, in his mystical moods, he sets the idea 
 of the Good so high above aU our knowing. And 
 he is sometimes, for lack of explication, or careful 
 distinction between the logical and the metaphysical, 
 unsatisfactory, as when, for example, he says in the 
 ' Phaedo ' (100 C) that a thing is beautiful " for no 
 other reason than that it partakes of the Beautiful." 
 But beauty is not synonymous with the good, for 
 there are good things which are not beautiful. We 
 do not apply beautiful to the objects of taste, smell, 
 and touch, all good in their way. Goethe ranked 
 the beautiful higher than the good, as being in- 
 clusive of the good. The beautiful and the good 
 have sometimes been taken to be identical, the 
 beautiful beiag regarded as the more ultimate in its 
 freedom from the striving which marks the good. 
 It does not seem to me either a very critical or happy 
 attempt at identification. The emotion of beauty is 
 to be distinguished from the sentiment of the good 
 
34 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 in quite a number of respects. We cannot, as some 
 philosophers do, subordinate beauty to the good, of 
 which it is said to be one form. It has been properly- 
 pointed out that when men speak of the beauty of 
 the good, they are not speaking of beauty " in the 
 specific sense." Its distinctiveness must be main- 
 tained, close as their kinship or connection may be. 
 It does not seem to me that we have any right so to 
 merge natural beauty in the morally good. The ideal 
 of beauty and the ideal of the good are not to be 
 so merged or lost the one in the other. Feeling, in 
 the case of the good, is of more reasoned character : 
 feeling, in the case of beauty, assumes a more sen- 
 suous form. Lotze placed beauty midway between 
 the true and the good, but thought it neither solves 
 the theoretic problem of the true, nor the practical 
 problem of the good. A rather obvious reflection, it 
 must be said. But he thinks its mid-position may 
 point to a possible reconciliation of existing contra- 
 dictions, which does not seem to me to carry us very 
 far, as merely thus stated. But more meaning at- 
 taches to the suggestion if and when analysis yields, 
 as features or characters of aesthetic emotion, such 
 points as unity in variety, proportion, symmetry, 
 harmony, individuaUty, and so forth, and if and 
 when the part played by perception, feeling, and 
 imagination in the pleasurable and disinterested con- 
 templation of the beautiful, is considered. In such 
 wise it grows more apparent how the aesthetical 
 problem can assume aspects psychological, episte- 
 mological, and ontological, which relate it more 
 nearly to the problems of the true and the good 
 than might at first sight appear. To go into that 
 
THE GEEATEST PEOBLEM m VALUE 36 
 
 fully would require a discussion by itseK. At any 
 rate, being is the seat of value, and not even beauty 
 can be considered without account being taken of 
 the metaphysic of aesthetics. Beauty must always 
 have truth of being. But what here concerns me is 
 to say that there is nothing in the problem of beauty 
 that impugns the primacy of the truth-value. 
 
 I have held the truth-value to be primary, but I 
 have not meant to suggest that goodness and beauty 
 are merely values to be deduced from the truth-value 
 as fundamental. Central in importance as I take 
 the truth-value to be, to which the other two values 
 are, in a sense, subordinate, yet I think aU the three 
 values should be co-ordinated with each other, and 
 their relations and the character of their absoluteness, 
 marked out. In other words, a reasoned Wert- 
 gliederung is our main need. But our leading philo- 
 sophers speak of values without attempting any 
 such articulation of the values, which they uncritic- 
 ally assume as common sense or mere face values. 
 There is no such thing as an isolated value, every 
 value standing in a system of higher and lower. 
 Objectivity we may claim for all the values, truth, 
 goodness, and beauty, but, in doing so, must remember 
 what a unique and irreducible form of objectivity 
 value is. We must beware of the folly of predicating 
 value of value, as sometimes happens, without any 
 beiag or reality to which value belongs. Eeality is 
 the support of value, and all these values must be 
 grounded in a supreme objective Eeality. Value 
 does not hang in the air, although religious writers 
 on value sometimes notably offend in this way, and 
 occasionally philosophical writers who set an over- 
 
36 GREAT PHILOSOPHICAL PROBLEMS 
 
 weening value on value. Even if we hold value to 
 exist before the entrance of desire, yet value is only 
 given for an existing consciousness ; without this 
 possibility, a value would be nothing. Nor should 
 we forget that the objectivity of truth is one thing, 
 not to be confounded with the objectivity of either 
 goodness or beauty. If we are to confine ourselves 
 to the truth of experience, it must be experience in 
 the widest sense, as experience of, or in relation to, 
 the transcendent, or what is above mere experi- 
 ence, if any speculative results are to be at all possible 
 to philosophy. For " the concept of experience is 
 itself transcendent of experience, and, in the nature 
 of the case, could admit of no empirical verification." 
 Philosophy is not mere crude empiricism, even if 
 christened " radical," and the question of ultimate 
 truths and principles we have found to be far from 
 an idle or unanswerable one. We have seen that 
 value is always for a subject, but the strange fact 
 remains — one difficult of reconcilement — that value 
 does not yet come and go with the subject that ex- 
 periences value. Hence some speak of potential 
 values. Of course, there are over-individual values, 
 though they cannot be for us so metaphysically real 
 as those the subject strikes for himself. There is no 
 satisfactory formal logical or metaphysical principle 
 for the grounding and unification of cosmical values, 
 outside the unity of the subject. You can, no doubt, 
 make value ultimate, more ultimate than existence, 
 but your doing so can never convert a value- judgment 
 into a truth-judgment. When it is thought that 
 values are objective, if they are posited in true value- 
 judgments, the position is an untenable one, because 
 
THE GEEATEST PEOBLEM IN VALUE 37 
 
 all subjective values, just because they are sub- 
 jective, must find expression in what are really, 
 sensu stricto, false value-judgments. There is no 
 value, properly speaking, outside the world of desire 
 and inclmation. Ehrenfels regarded the value of 
 things as due to our desire of them, while Meinong 
 has taken value to be prior, since desire relates to 
 what is not yet present. If value, however, stands or 
 falls with desire, then is value purely relative. Be- 
 cause this is unsatisfactory, the objectivity or abso- 
 luteness of the values has been postulated, with 
 variously estimated satisfactoriness. I am inclined 
 to regard the truth-value or existential judgment as 
 the only really absolute one, with what Eickert calls 
 " its category of givenness," and to regard the other 
 values as non-absolute value-judgments. But that 
 does not mean that the values of goodness and of 
 beauty are not absolute in the sense that they are 
 universally valid. If the good be severed from the 
 true, then the objectivity of the good falls away ; 
 but the objective truth of the good cannot be so 
 dispensed with ; the good has an absolute value, 
 because there is objective good, good that we can 
 isolate in thought as existing in and of itself, and 
 which forms the absolute norm for our wiU. But 
 this objectivity could not be, if the good were severed 
 from the true, as objectively existent. And so it 
 comes that the values of goodness and of beauty 
 are sustained and illuminated by the truth- or reality- 
 values, since they must be conformable to the truth 
 of things, if they are to be conserved at all. This, 
 because the content of the practical reason is still 
 an object of inquiry and knowledge to the theoretic 
 
38 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PROBLEMS 
 
 reason, even if you say that wiU- and feeling-values 
 cannot be fuUy absorbed by this latter reason. When 
 Professor C. D. Broad says of the theoretic and the 
 practical reason that " there is clearly no question 
 of priority between them," ^ that is an incorrect or 
 defective view ; for, in setting up the practical 
 reason, it, with its contents, is, in that very fact, 
 constituted an object of knowledge and investigation 
 to the theoretic reason. It is not necessary that 
 reason should absorb will- and feeling-values, or rob 
 them of their distinctiveness. But it is absurd to 
 suppose that it has not relation to them, or bearing 
 upon them. The theoretic reason is not so divorced 
 from the practical reason, however frequently this 
 Kantian absurdity may have been allowed to per- 
 meate modem philosophy. Valuing, by means of 
 the truth-value, and knowing, are loosely called one 
 and the same ; but the absolute value is truth, not 
 our knowledge of it. Truth is the last presupposition 
 of every absolutely valid valuation. But it is the 
 first of all preferences, for truth is the most absolute of 
 all things ; it is the thought of God, as Kepler found, 
 when he thought God's thoughts after him. Even 
 Hegel could say, when away from his system (in his 
 ' Vermischte Schriften '), that in both philosophy and 
 religion, " the object is truth in that supreme sense 
 in which God, and God only, is truth." But that does 
 not help us to a human apprehension of the truth, 
 save as we think of absolute truth as the attribute 
 of the Absolute Being. The unity of truth is such 
 that truths are but different aspects or applications 
 of one and the same truth. Truth itself is not mul- 
 
 ^ 'Mind; April 1918, p. 242. 
 
THE GEEATEST PEOBLEM IN VALUE 39 
 
 tiple ; but multiple are the aspects, degrees, and 
 circumstances of its manifestation. Truth, entering 
 the human mind, suffers the weakness of its position 
 there ; there is then diversity in the unity of truth. 
 But truth, as it is in itself, is stiU one. The whole 
 search of man has been for the unity hid behind these 
 diversities. Truth presupposes unity. I do not 
 merely say that truth is one, because God is one ; 
 but also, that truth is one, since man is one, and stiU 
 seeks the unity of truth in its apparent diversities. 
 Theory of truth is not to be lightly esteemed, for 
 theory is truth itself, and not less rigid and inflexible 
 than truth. It is scarcely possible, in view of what 
 has been said of truth as one, to sustain the position 
 of those philosophers who think there is nothing 
 which can be caUed the truth, but only an infinite 
 number of truths. For truths do not finally remain 
 isolated and unrelated in the one system of truth. 
 A wholeness of truth we must maintain, whether we 
 can accept any of the proposed systems of truth in 
 whole or not. We have seen that we may not say 
 that a statement, which corresponds to no outer 
 reahty, is no truth ; that there may be transcendental 
 concepts of truth which we are not entitled to pro- 
 nounce false ; and that there may be statements which 
 we find it quite impossible to doubt, and may have 
 to take for true, though their truth we may never 
 with fuU certainty be able to pronounce, since they 
 really rest upon our thought. The contention of 
 some philosophers that truth, without a subject that 
 thinks it, is a mere abstraction, is scarcely justifiable, 
 in view of some considerations already advanced. 
 Nor is truth a subjective product, a creation of indi- 
 
40 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 vidual mind, though truth as thought, of course, 
 requires a subject. Truth, as I am here concerned 
 with it, would cease to be truth if it were begotten 
 merely by a psychic act of thought. Truth is a neces- 
 sity independently of every psychological compul- 
 sion. Truth is the highest objective principle of 
 speculative activity, for the concern of philosophy is 
 with intrinsic truth before all else. The value of 
 truth Lies precisely in the fact it is not value ; that 
 it is, as truth, objective, irresponsive to desire, and 
 unmoulded by will ; and that it is corrective of the 
 terribly and detrimentally characteristic subjectivity 
 of modem thought, which makes so much of the 
 objectivity of value, and so little of the objectivity of 
 truth. This, of course, while I have admitted the 
 uncritical conventional sense in which truth is often 
 regarded by philosophers as value, which it certainly 
 is not, in the strict and proper sense. For there are 
 truths which are necessarily taken for true ; you 
 cannot say that a triangle is a circle, nor a circle 
 a polygon ; doubt in such cases is impossible. Such 
 truths are not value, in any proper sense. The oppo- 
 site of any value can be affirmed ; but the opposite 
 of such truths could not be affirmed. 
 
 We have seen that there are leading philosophers 
 who have contributed no more toward the discussion 
 of truth than the idle repetition of Hegel's phrase 
 that " the true " is "the Whole." So the finite has 
 no truth. As weU tell men that truth is a hopeless 
 quest. That is to remove truth as far as possible 
 from being the central determining power, which I 
 have shown it to be, ia human life. " The Whole " 
 is a vast and meamngless abstraction, iaaccessible 
 
THE GEEATEST PEOBLEM IN VALUE 41 
 
 to men. But truth is not inaccessible. It is gro- 
 tesquely absurd to say that no particular truth is 
 true, because it is not "the Whole." "Blessed are 
 the pure in heart, for they shall see God " is truth, 
 like hundreds of other formulations, none of which 
 wait for the fanciful seal and signature of " the 
 Whole " to their becoming true. If there is to be a 
 whole of truth, one might have supposed it to come 
 through the harmonisation and imi&cation of different 
 truths, or levels, or spheres, of truth. Thus out of 
 truths might spring a whole of truth. But if nothing 
 is true short of " the whole," if there are only un- 
 truths — truths not completely true — short of this 
 goal, is our whole of truth to be reached by pihng 
 up this aggregate of imtruths *? This whole-and-part 
 theory of truth — as a mere arithmetical sum — ^is 
 mainly true of the world in its physical aspect, but 
 it utterly breaks down in the moral sphere. It 
 strangely overlooks the converse truth, that the whole 
 is made for the parts. Not without the whole could 
 the parf be what it is. It strangely overlooks that, 
 in the moral sphere, it can with profound truth be 
 said to a man — " Whether the world, or life, or death, 
 or present, or future — all are yours," as the whole 
 subserves his higher development. Also, that " all 
 things " are working together for his good. Even 
 Plato, who on occasion recognises the other side of 
 the argument in the physical aspect — ^for both sides 
 are true — yet, in the moral sphere, is able to say 
 " that all things which come from the gods come in 
 the best possible shape to the man whom they love," 
 and that, " whether poverty be his lot or sickness or 
 any other reputed evil, all will work for his final 
 
42 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 advantage " (' Eep.,' 613). But indeed it is true even 
 in the scientific sphere, that some knowledge of the 
 whole as a unity — ^not a mere arithmetical sum — ^is 
 necessary to a real knowledge of the parts. Such a 
 quantitative or whole-and-part mode of valuing 
 truth is wholly incommensurable with ideal or moral 
 truth. To identify unity — the unity of truth — with 
 one, as the whole, is no better than loose thinking, 
 for imity is deeper and richer than a numerical one. 
 Kant is even more unsatisfactory than Hegel, even if 
 we hardly follow Dr Hutchison Stirling in saying, 
 " I know not that there is anywhere any truth acces- 
 sible to Kant." ^ 1^0 more do Vaihinger and Lange 
 offer us objective truth. Yet truth is not to be escaped. 
 For, as said Aquinas, " He who denies that truth is, 
 grants that truth is ; for, if truth is not, it is still 
 true that truth is not." For my own part, I prefer 
 another method of reaching a satisfactory truth- 
 conclusion than that of Hegel. If we take all the dif- 
 ferent forms, grades, orders, or levels, of truth — 
 logical, conceptual, ontological, moral — and treat 
 them as truth, it does not seem to me at all diffi- 
 cult to conceive their reduction to a final and funda- 
 mental imity — a unity of harmony, permanency, 
 consistency, and completeness, subsisting for a mind 
 capable of comprehending, or at least conceiving, 
 them, in their ensemble and rapports, as convergent, 
 in spite of all apparent divergences and dispersions, 
 toward one central fons et origo of truth. In the 
 inexhaustible richness and complexity of truth, as 
 issuing from this common source or centre, is over- 
 taken and included all that seems overlooked or im- 
 
 1 * What is Thought ? ' p, 39. 
 
THE GEEATEST PEOBLEM IN VALUE 43 
 
 perfectly accounted for in the current talk of truth 
 as concerned only with outer reality. If you say that 
 such a knowledge or view of truth in its primal unity 
 belongs to the universal order, and appertains in 
 fulness to transcendental Being, I answer, So be it, 
 but we are sufficiently universalised to be able to 
 understand and appreciate the reahty of such a 
 view. After all, it should not be forgotten, when we 
 speak of the unity of truth, that the idea of unity 
 has no reality standing by itself, but is included in 
 the idea of being, as that idea has, in range and 
 amphtude, been here expounded. 
 
44 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE ETHICAL VALUE OF INDrvrDUALITY, 
 
 The greatness of the problem of individuality lies in 
 the fact that it is concerned with the form of tiltimate 
 experience and ultimate reaUty. The distinctive 
 value, the peculiar worth, of man lies in individuality. 
 His moral nature gives him intrinsic value. Every- 
 man is, m some sort, an individual, but he is not 
 true individual untU he has gotten individuality, of 
 which, indeed, few men are fully possessed. Indi- 
 viduality is that which truly distinguishes a man 
 from every other being of his kind. The individual 
 is the last and irreducible element of reality. Few 
 things defy analysis so completely as individuality, 
 but at least it must comprise the notes of unity, 
 incommunicableness, and, in a certain sense, impene- 
 trability, as constitutive elements. There are those, 
 of course, who object to " impenetrabihty " in this 
 connection, and who urge that distinction merely, 
 not separateness, is the sign of individuality ; but 
 those who are so fearful of " each in his separate 
 star " generally end by doing less than justice to 
 individuality, in any substantive or significant sense. 
 The distinctness of all souls is that of being concrete 
 
ETHICAL VALUE OF INDIVIDUALITY 45 
 
 existents, and cannot be satisfactorily held for any- 
 thing less. There is a clearly reahsed individuality 
 of the sonl which feels and loves ; and an individu- 
 ality of the mind which thinks and comprehends. 
 But for individuality, as I now take it, there must 
 be a synthesis of these two : their union or fusion 
 is necessary to individuality, in true, full sense. For 
 individuality is a true indivisible unity. By how 
 much soever their union or fusion is imperfect, by 
 so much is the individuality impaired. Such iudi- 
 viduality is concrete and essential ; it imports ethical 
 being ; it imphes the possession of all our powers, 
 thoughts, qualities, opinions, standards, values, so 
 that we are determined by ourselves, not by society. 
 It is because of the great difference which ethical 
 individuality makes to the quality of personality that 
 I am now dealiag with the subject. Only by indi- 
 viduality can man attain his true, full stature. It 
 is not implied, of course, that such individuality is 
 sufficient unto itself, in the sense that it rejects the 
 inheritance of the ages, or spurns the reciprocities of 
 society. 
 
 Personality has been by Bradley and some other 
 philosophers emphasised in its essentially individual 
 or limited character or aspect, but personahty is no 
 such exclusive thing, but, though importing a being- 
 for-seK, carries the capacity for going beyond the self 
 and entering into relations with others. But what 
 marks such outgoings of personahty is just the indi- 
 viduality — the characteristically individual features 
 — of personal hfe, related, as such, to other persons. 
 For it is essential to personahty to recognise the 
 value of other personahties. Individuality is due to 
 
46 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 society, for it is so named in distinction to social 
 fellows. Of social function and social consciousness the 
 ideal individual cannot rid himself, even if he would, 
 Not a very- satisfactory definition of personality 
 is that which Hegel has given in his ' Philosophy 
 of Eight,' when he describes it as " the free beiag 
 in pure self-conscious isolation," since the "being" 
 is not wholly " free," and the isolation is by no means 
 so " pure" or complete. Individuality does not efface 
 or immolate itself — ^its moral existence — ^for society 
 or the state, even if we take these to be logically 
 prior to the individual. In the order of history it 
 may be the reverse, but that is not now the view 
 of historical criticism, at any rate. Individuality, 
 in any case, takes from society and the state what 
 they can give, but it gives to them the best they 
 hold — whatever they may have of savour, strength, 
 reality, value, life. This it does most freely and 
 naturally, for liberty is the vital breath, the native 
 air, of individuality. The solidarity of mankind is 
 without prejudice to this liberty. Man is made for 
 society, for association ; but the fact that society 
 is essential to man does not make society greater 
 than he, for society grows out of the iadividual, his 
 needs and attributes. Its toaportance, it has been 
 said, is only his importance under another name. 
 He is master of himself — according to individuality, 
 not according to the very different thing named 
 individualism — ^in order that he may be able to give 
 himself freely to the service of all. Without such 
 individuahty there can be neither real morality nor 
 real reUgion. His consciousness of personal ends and 
 values, and of the power to realise them, makes the 
 
ETHICAL VALUE OF INDIVIDUALITY 47 
 
 individual the original source and constituent of all 
 real value. I say these things in full knowledge, of 
 course, of those current theories which, contrariwise, 
 make everything of society or the community, and 
 treat the individual as of no inherent value, but 
 dependent for all rights and value upon society — 
 theories which I account ethically indefensible and 
 undesirable. The individuality on which I am in- 
 sisting involves that the conscious individual find 
 himself an end in and for himself. As such, he has 
 claims to consideration and respect, and not simply 
 as a member of a group. His ends and choices, right 
 and rational, are iadividually his own, else they lack 
 all ethical value. That is the very meaning of his 
 ethical consciousness. He is thus no mere product 
 of the social order, as is often absurdly said of a 
 being of ideas and purposes all his own. As a free, 
 self-conscious being, he is no such mechanical product. 
 He is, on the contrary, the corrector and transcender 
 of society, the reviser and raiser of its values, in so 
 far as he has individuality enough. ISTeither upon 
 society nor the state nor any external authority what- 
 ever does he depend for the right to be a free, self- 
 conscious being, capable of realising personal ends 
 and values, 
 
 Wundt, of course, has been pleased to speak of 
 organised commimities as though they were psycho- 
 logical entities, ascribing to them Gesammthewusstsein 
 and Gesammtiville ; and Eoyce, in what I cannot 
 but think a too facile manner, seems disposed to 
 accept Wundt's position that such communities are 
 wholes or entities, and have, or are, minds. All the 
 attempts of Eoyce and others to treat the com- 
 
48 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 munity as an organism in any way comparable to 
 the real being of the living individual — as possessed 
 of true individnality — ^remain singularly futile and 
 unconvincing. Individuals are self-conscious and self- 
 determining, not mechanical parts of a quasi-physical 
 organism. Yet Eoyce sets us the impossible task of 
 regarding the " community " as a " person " superior 
 to any human individual. What an immolation of 
 the responsible human seH ! To the blessed, blunder- 
 ing community, staring at us out of all past history ! 
 There would be deeper truth in asking, with Emerson 
 — " Is not a man better than a town 1 " Yes, any 
 town, but not any and every man. Eoyce's ideahsing 
 has here no foothold on fact or reality. Dr Bosanquet 
 says, in an Aristotelian Society paper, that " the con- 
 ception of general will " involves the existence of an 
 actual community " of such a nature as to share an 
 identical mind and feeling." If this somewhat loose 
 mode of expression is meant to claim for the com- 
 munity something on the level of the unity of the 
 self-identical mind of the individual, it is to be deci- 
 sively rejected. The more so, as later in the same 
 paper, he speaks of " the community " as "an in- 
 dividual in a far deeper sense than the citizen, being 
 the nearest approach to a true individual that exists 
 upon the earth " — an ethical treatment of human 
 " individuaUty and value " that appears to be the 
 result of his characteristically imperfect view of the 
 nature of the individual. I hold, as does, I observe, 
 Dr D'Arcy also, that the self is " the most definite 
 unit which thought is able to conceive." L^vy-Bruhl 
 says that, '* in fact, the ethical homogeneity of a 
 human society at any moment is always only appa- 
 
ETHICAL VALUE OF INDIVIDUALITY 49 
 
 rent." ^ It is of little avail for Dr Bosanquet to 
 speak, at one moment, of man's individuality as a 
 " world," and at another moment — as here — to treat 
 it as a shmnken, dependent, insignificant " part of 
 the communal will." He is far too completely the 
 victim of verbalism and doctrinaire notions of " group- 
 life " and collectivism to be able to do justice to 
 ethical individuality : he never sees the tree for the 
 wood. One may well allow a certain use and interest 
 to the facts and phenomena of the natural history of 
 such collectivism, and yet feel that we should have 
 to hoodwink our critical reason pretty thoroughly 
 before we could ascribe to it any value of the char- 
 acter intended, and for which no epistemological and 
 metaphysical proofs are offered. Moral individuality 
 imphes a personal worth and value not found in the 
 members of a physical organism. The attempt to 
 raise the organised community to the level of the 
 real being of the personal entity utterly breaks down 
 before the really individual character of all conscious- 
 ness. Without such consciousness there is neither 
 meaning nor value. The same injustice to man's 
 ethical individuahty is seen in some other Neo- 
 HegeUan writers, who teU us man cannot be centre, 
 but must aUow himself to be caught up in the career- 
 ing universe. If man is only a physical organism 
 furnished with a dialectical apparatus, such an abdi- 
 cation of individuality may be possible ; but if he is 
 endowed with an ethical individuality of any real 
 strength, he wiU make such surrender — ^never. 
 
 Of course, our individuality is developed through 
 the contacts of society. But, whatever we may aUow 
 
 1 ' Efchica and Moral Science,' p. 217. 
 D 
 
50 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 to the so-called social consciousness, we cannot admit 
 that it is at all comparable to, or to be confounded 
 with, consciousness in the strict, proper, uniquely 
 individual sense just spoken of. Even Eoyce has 
 said that experience must be at least individual, and 
 with that one entirely agrees, though whether he 
 has reaUy allowed it to be so is quite another matter. 
 I cannot find that he has done justice either to indi- 
 viduality or to the hberty characteristic of it. Of 
 course, an individuahsm, Uke that of the eighteenth 
 century, which isolates man as though he were sove- 
 reign and a law to himself, is untenable and absurd, 
 and liberty is curtailed, or it may be, by the laws 
 of duty. But liberty is, for aU that, a distinguishing 
 characteristic of man, and marks him off from the 
 animal kingdom. You cannot ask man to control 
 the instincts and passions of the soul, unless you 
 recognise the hegemony of the self in man. We have 
 need to be very jealous of the tendencies of some 
 philosophers to biologise human intelligence, liberty, 
 and even the spiritual life itself, for deadly issues he 
 behind these positions. Fnutfulness in such direc- 
 tions belongs no more to the reasonable order of 
 thiags than does the expectation of grapes from 
 thorns, or figs from thistles, or roses from the salt, 
 unchanging sea. The procedure is one of the con- 
 founding or obhteratiag of qualitative differences, 
 and shearing off the edge of the distinctively ethical 
 consciousness. " The question of value," Dr Bosan- 
 quet rightly remarks, "is really distinct from that 
 of the nature of the causal connection between mind 
 and body." ^ Elsewhere he says truly, '* Individu- 
 
 1 'The Psychology of the Moral Self,' p. 124. 
 
ETHICAL VALUE OF INDIVIDUALITY 51 
 
 ality will shew itself as inwardness and spirituality, 
 not by emptiness and abstraction, not even by blank 
 intensity of incommunicable feeling, but, in a word, 
 by the characteristics of ' a world/ '' ^ Individuality 
 is, to me, unique as the being one's seK ; it is posi- 
 tive in quality and content. I agree that " its essence 
 lies in the richness and completeness of a self," ^ 
 Nevertheless, the position is unsatisfactory when, 
 later,^ individuality is taken by Bosanquet to mean 
 " mind," " a mind," for this is easily capable of 
 being taken, and is, in fact, taken in a too abstract 
 and merely intellectuaUstic sense, so that the ethical 
 side of individuality is far from having justice done 
 to it. The finite individual is thus left to be a " part " 
 of, or to " participation " in, a logical whole without 
 any proper or adequate account of his union or fusion 
 with the absolute through free, voluntary ethical 
 union. The defect is radical, and inherent in all 
 such abstractly inteUectualistic systems or modes of 
 thought. These have no other idea than of self- 
 consciousness conceived in a purely intellective fashion, 
 but that aspect is far enough removed from true 
 individuaUty. The single self-consciousnesses are left 
 so much of an equal value that the essential non- 
 substitutional character of individuaUty is missed. 
 There is more in us than the logical function of 
 reason, though that is important enough ; and reason 
 itself craves something higher, more transcendental, 
 than to be a '' participant " in an impersonal, non- 
 ethical whole. No one thinks of denying that the 
 iuherent capacity of the individual for self-fulfilment 
 
 ^ 'Individuality and Value,' p. 77. 
 
 2 Ibid., p. 69. 3 Ibid., p. 286. 
 
52 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 can be realised only in its relation to the Whole, 
 but the relation must be ethically, and not merely 
 metaphysically, conceived. The individual must itself 
 be real centre of life and energy, not an illusory 
 " part " of the Whole. Individuality is one and 
 indivisible — a living unity. I do not, of course, deny 
 the logical functioning of iadividuahty, but only that 
 such logical functioning exhausts it, is the whole of 
 it. Ethical individuahty insists on the unity of the 
 mind or soul in its entirety being recognised. There 
 has, however, been no adequate care to preserve in 
 its integrity the character of individuality as "a 
 world," in the ultimate dropping to a "part." But 
 individuality is and remains a fact, whether recog- 
 nised or resisted. 
 
 Individuality had httle real place among the Stoics, 
 for they asserted it only to efface or abolish it ; Stoic 
 individuality lay in the paradoxical suppression of 
 individual interests and pleasures ; there was too 
 little distinctness of being for any real fostering of 
 ethical individuality. But, indeed, " Stoic ethics are 
 not based on the needs of the individual, but on the 
 demands of the supreme law." ^ The Neo-Platonic 
 view of individuality, also, was a despairing one, 
 albeit it provided a certain goal for human striving 
 in its theory of mystic contemplation. This, although 
 in the " Enneads " of Plotinus, there is now a basis 
 for individuahty as representative of idea in the 
 Divine Mind, and so participant of the Divine uni- 
 versaUty, and now a treatment of the individual as 
 a mere constituent element of the Universal Soul, 
 with whose unity a certain independence of the 
 ^ E. v. Arnold, 'Roman Stoicism,' p. 273. 
 
ETHICAL VALUE OP mDIYlDUALITY 53 
 
 individual is compatible. But there is little that can 
 be said, in any real sense, to make for ethical indi- 
 viduality, and what there is makes for the purifying 
 of thought rather than for ethical action. Individu- 
 ality had no great measure of justice meted out to it 
 in the Middle Ages. Albertus Magnus, for example, 
 in common with the Arabian philosophers, was in- 
 cltaed to connect iadividuality with the body or 
 matter, as representing existence in its divided state 
 in the world. A defective view, of course, although 
 I am not at aU concerned to deny that the character 
 of individuality is more or less determined by the 
 physical organisation. Individuality fared no better 
 at the hands of the Jewish mediaeval philosophers, 
 although they recognised a relative ethical superiority 
 in certain thinkers over others, at least some of them 
 did, as, e.g., Gabirol, Halevi, Maimonides. I do not 
 now dwell on the Thomist and Scotist theories of 
 individuahty, valuable as they were, since they are 
 of metaphysical rather than ethical interest. Origen, 
 long before, had, on the contrary, derived individuahty 
 from the mind itself — from its use of freedom — ^which, 
 however, is not adequate to account for it. Leibniz 
 treated de principio individui, and maintained every 
 being to be individuated in its entirety (totum ens in 
 se toto individuatur). Indeed, for Leibniz, individu- 
 ality was, further, expressive of the place of individual 
 things in a system. Only in a developing system of 
 categories can realities of such an imphed relational 
 type be known. Hence the complementary character 
 of Kant's teaching concerning the categories. But 
 Kant and Hegel were too much inclined to regard 
 individuality as only a limitation, and did not appre- 
 
54 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 ciate it as the condition of the realisation of the ethical 
 world. Schleiermacherj however, did better, albeit 
 in a manner still too quantitative, rather than qnaU- 
 tative ; he thought the soul sustained a peculiar 
 modification through its connection with the body ; 
 he saw a reason for individuaUty in the relation of 
 the ego to the non-ego ; each individual had, for 
 htm, the psychical peculiarity predetermined or im- 
 planted within him so as to constitute him a peculiar 
 soul : his spiritual individuality was seen in a some- 
 what too sentimental and romanticist — for so it must 
 be said — " marriage in him of the Infinite with the 
 finite " ; and he thought the whole of humanity 
 became individualised in each soul in a particular 
 way. Schopenhauer missed the ethical value of indi- 
 viduality very completely when his system allowed 
 the individual to be dissolved in the ceaseless move- 
 ment of the world-will without goal. He also made 
 the grave mistake of dethroning reason, and reducing 
 it to the level of a mere temporary organ of the wiU. 
 Individuality he tended to confound with spatial and 
 temporal individuation. It is not to be overlooked 
 that our individuality, whatever its uniqueness, is 
 set in an infinitely larger whole, which you may call 
 the social order if you will. But that does not keep 
 it from being true that Hegel failed to do justice to 
 ethical individuaUty — as his modem followers also 
 do — the individual, in his system, being relegated to 
 a secondary place in more aspects than one. All real 
 individuality is, again and again, swamped in pure 
 imiversality. Experience is divorced from reason, 
 at demand of his so-caUed *' reines Denken." There 
 can be no justice to individuaUty in a system in which 
 
ETHICAL VALUE OF Il^TDIVIDUALITY 55 
 
 I am never allowed to be a real individual, but only 
 a mere relation — ^between universality and individu- 
 ality. The individual is, in a true sense, in and for 
 itself ; it cannot be itself save as it is not anything 
 or any one else ; but it is yet not for itself alone, for 
 only in and through its other can it fulfil itself — even 
 for itself. Still, no alter ego can keep the individual 
 from being himself : as a self-conscious ego, he remains 
 — after every recognition of the whole in which he is 
 set — the centre of his own imiverse. I have not meant 
 to suggest that individuality is anything but begin- 
 ning rather than end ; it is for the larger social 
 whole ; but it is for it as free, seK-possessed individu- 
 ality, giving itseLf, dedicating itself, to the service of 
 the whole in voluntary, unconstrained fashion. But 
 in my service to the whole, I do not lose my indi- 
 viduality ; it still remains true that I am I. Thus 
 I preserve my freedom, so essential to ethical value. 
 Yet, though I am I, consciously and intensely indi- 
 vidual, there is no reason why, as Schleiermacher 
 suggested, the whole of humankind should not, in 
 a sense, pulsate through me. For though my indi- 
 viduality is real, I am not atomic and independent 
 of the race. It is by sympathy individuahty mani- 
 fests itself. I realise myself only in and through the 
 community of men, or the whole. But society, as 
 organised whole, must immanently allow the fulfil- 
 ment of my free individuality, if the whole is not to 
 fail of its end. But if the community quenches my 
 initiative, and freezes my impulse, it impoverishes 
 itself, and falls short of adequate fimctioning. Par 
 too little thought has been given to this aspect of 
 community failure, which marks every sort of com- 
 
56 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 mixaity, civic, academic, and ecclesiasticaL Thought, 
 it has been said, " does nothmg to annul the fact 
 of individuality as it is given in perception, and it 
 is necessary that it should have no such power ; 
 because it is only individual human organisms that 
 manifest the conditions on which universal thought 
 should be possible." ^ And such thought must, be- 
 fore all things, be free, free even to rise above the 
 externaUty of law, if need be. This is not to forget 
 that every free, self-active being is under universal 
 ethical law. And James, with his theistic-ethical 
 instincts, was right in his insistences that our sense 
 of moral obUgation is set in relation to something 
 more concrete than an over-arching abstract moral 
 order. There has certainly (however necessarily) been 
 in our time great loss of faith in freedom — a deplor- 
 able loss. This is true both of outer and of inner 
 or ethical freedom. I am of those who think there 
 has been an unhappy tendency on the part of the 
 modern State — as a pohtical engine or structure — ^to 
 interfere unduly and harmfully at times with indi- 
 viduality and freedom. iN'othing can compensate the 
 loss of freedom and individuaUty, to conserve which 
 should be primary aims of State control and govern- 
 ance. The words of Mill have lost none of their 
 truth : " The worth of a State, in the long run, is 
 the worth of the individuals composing it " ; "a 
 state which dwarfs its men, in order that they may 
 be more docile instruments in its hands even for bene- 
 ficial purposes, will find that with small men no great 
 thing can be accomplished ; and that the perfection 
 of machinery to which it has sacrificed everything, 
 
 ^ C. Read, 'Natural aud Social Morals,' lutrod. 
 
ETHICAL VALUE OF INDIVIDUALITY 57 
 
 will in the end avail it nothing, for want of the vital 
 power which, in order that the machine might work 
 more smoothly, it has preferred to banish." A not 
 unneeded monition for all countries to-day. Mill 
 mightj however, have defended the freedom of the 
 individual without a preposterous denial of the ethical 
 value of self-development. Free self-development 
 should in the individual be ethical, but it is not 
 within the power of any State, Absolutist or Sociahst, 
 to determine the ethical and other needs and aims 
 of the spirit, or to prescribe how, in their ever-shift- 
 ing directions, these are to be satisfied. The har- 
 monisation of private good with the good of the State 
 is that which the State exists, in ways just and equal, 
 to effect. This, without infringing man's essential 
 hberty or inherent dignity. It is a primary need of 
 the individual to be member of a stable social organ- 
 ism. But the savour of society must be found in 
 true individuaUty, not in dead-level Socialism. 
 
 There can be no doubt of the need to cultivate 
 what, by a bold metaphor, is called the State con- 
 science. Butler said that if conscience " had might, 
 as it has right, it would govern the world." But 
 as it does not, the need is shown for growth in strength 
 and delicacy of conscience. The State should govern, 
 but States do not always do even that ; and why 
 then should they so often take upon themselves to 
 crush individual initiative, and induce individual 
 helplessness ? To say that the individual has no 
 Interests apart from the State, none but what society 
 confers upon him, is a soul-destroying and pernicious 
 doctrine. This tendency to State absolution is a real 
 danger to-day, and in the absolutism of the State, 
 
58 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 the soul — ^wherever it is a soul — cannot acquiesce. 
 The soul cannot deny itself ; that were to deny the 
 God that made it. The soul, conscious of itself — its 
 intrinsic worth or absolute value — can never rank 
 itself below the State. That is its declared ethical 
 position. Does that preclude its sacrifice of itself 
 for the State ? By no means. For it is precisely 
 the soul that feels the call of a time wherein — 
 
 " 'Tis man's perdition to be safe, 
 When for the truth he ought to die.'' 
 
 But that is more than the call of a mere absolutist 
 State. An absolutist State that recognises nothing 
 higher than itself is an atheistic monster, to be loathed 
 not loved. The State, as organ of conservation, is 
 apt to be repressive of individuaUty, but cannot get 
 rid of it. For the agents of its activity are yet per- 
 sonaUties ; even an oppressive State needs individu- 
 aUty in its instruments. If society, however, is 
 organic, and everything organic is circular — Hegel 
 said every part of philosophy is a circle — ^then there 
 are reciprocities wherein State authority and indi- 
 vidual independence should be properly guaranteed 
 and adjusted. The State did not make me, nor give 
 me my powers, and it does not merit my first alle- 
 giance ; the State does not keep my conscience for 
 me ; behiud all human authority, ultimate sove- 
 reignty belongs to God alone, to Whom I am primarily 
 responsible. That is the prerogative of my individu- 
 ality, which is not inconsistent with society, and does 
 not make otherwise than for social evolution. The 
 State may seek my improvement as a citizen, but it 
 does not belong to the State to fashion me as a per- 
 
ETHICAL VALUE OF INDIVIDUALITY 59 
 
 sonality, or to shape my moral individuality. The 
 imier citadel of my individuality or personal moral 
 being is immune from State interference, and is a 
 matter for God and myself alone. For I am a being 
 whose essential principle is that I am responsible for 
 my own destiny. The State is, however, to be recog- 
 nised as, in some sort, a divinely ordained institution 
 for certain righteous and specific purposes, but it is 
 bound to recognise, and act under, ethical law. Eoyce 
 rendered a valuable service in emphasising, as no 
 one had ever done, the ethical value of the spirit 
 of "loyalty," but that does not dispense with the 
 need of sound individual judgment as to the objects 
 and grades of our loyalty. If we have any power of 
 sound judgment, we shall find in life many mistaken 
 loyalties, even in notable persons. Not even respect 
 for the " community " must suppress loyalty to our 
 own individual consciences, judgments, convictions. 
 A British philosopher has lately spoken of the State 
 as " the guardian of moral values,'* while an American 
 writer has declared that "government is the highest 
 expression of the social conscience, and as such is a 
 uniquely human institution." Such statements must 
 be regarded largely as ideals to be realised, if they are 
 not to become ironic nebulosities, more or less. The 
 relations of man to God and to all spiritual truth are 
 entirely outside the sphere of State interference or 
 control. That does not keep the proper sovereignty 
 of the State from being an ethical demand ; and 
 State morality consists in guaranteeing the possi- 
 bility of the moral life. The moral demand of the 
 State is that its power be always used in the service 
 of the right, else it will be misused. The principle 
 
60 GREAT PHILOSOPHICAL PROBLEMS 
 
 of individuality, iq its higher forms, is at once advan- 
 tageous to, and corrective of, society, and is needfuUy 
 preservative of liberty against the encroachments of 
 all-absorbing power. 
 
 Individuality is the spring of all character, the 
 source of all energy for the good, and does not leave 
 us with merely pallid and passive virtues. But 
 theories are by no means infrequent which invest the 
 State — as a political organisation merely, though 
 necessary — with claims to devotion and seK-sub- 
 ordination, which are utterly unreserved and un- 
 discriminating, and are a menace to the integrity 
 of the human individuality, from ethical poiats of 
 view. Fichte argued stoutly that no law or com- 
 mandment whatsoever was obligatory save only as 
 conscience confirmed it : the obligatoriness of ethical 
 law was, for him, absolutely devoid of exterior founda- 
 tion. Fichte was absurdly extreme in laying it down 
 that conscience can never deceive us, as historical 
 fanaticisms, self-deceptions, and aberrations of the 
 moral sense, abundantly prove. He seems to me, in 
 his assumed infallibility of conscience, to have over- 
 looked the relativity of our moral judgments — ^I mean, 
 judgments as to duty relative to ourselves, not as to 
 duty in itself, even though it may be true that we 
 have to act with such conscience as we have ia the 
 end. Not every conscience is of equal value ; every 
 conscience exhibits but a relative degree of perfec- 
 tion, and calls for enlightenment and increasing 
 delicacy. This aU the more because conscience or 
 the moral nature is so complex — ^not the simple thing 
 it was thought ia pre-evolutional times to be. Free 
 play for the exercise of spontaneous iadividuality is 
 
ETHICAL VALUE OF INDIVIDUALITY 61 
 
 of fundamental importance and value, with the free- 
 dom therein involved ; and there is inherent guar- 
 antee in the true nature of individuality, as I have 
 defined its relation to end, that it shall not fail of its 
 service to the whole or hiunanity. For of all errors 
 concerning individuality, the most vulgar is that 
 which confounds it with egotism, or mere wilful and 
 uncompromisiQg self-assertion. In ethical individu- 
 ality reason retains its sovereign greatness. I do not 
 care to dogmatise on concrete matters or cases of 
 ethical reconstruction ; I am only concerned with the 
 maintenance of ethical principles, which are often 
 not so carefuUy preserved in reconstructive proposals 
 as is dogmatically claimed or asserted. The precise 
 application of ethical law in concrete cases does not 
 at all appear to me to be always so easy or certain 
 as some airy dogmatists suppose. At any rate, the 
 abridgment of liberty, the impairment of individu- 
 ality, are to be shunned to every extent and degree 
 possible, since, so far as they exist, they reduce the 
 man from person to thing. A finer ethical sense would 
 lessen the disregard of this truth to be seen in all 
 pubUc relations, where the ethical worth of the indi- 
 vidual always tends — under Dr Bosanquet's gro- 
 tesquely overrated " communal '* spirit — to be under- 
 valued. It is curious to find a certain modern tend- 
 ency run back to Fichte — the philosopher of die 
 Selhstdndiglceit and die PersdnlicMeit — ^who not very 
 consistently viewed our duties to self as merely 
 mediate or conditional, and our duties to others as 
 immediate and unconditional. An illogical and not 
 particularly ethical procediire, resulting in the treat- 
 ment of our fellows merely as a means of perfecting 
 
62 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 ourselves. I^ot to my own individuality, but to 
 humanity in general, according to his representa- 
 tions, do I owe anything in the way of duty. As 
 if I could give anjrfching to others, being and having 
 nothing in myself ! As if I had no duties of self- 
 preservation and self -development, and were not 
 boimd to increase my value as a person ! What 
 a parasitic absence of all proper self-dependence ! 
 But one cannot forget that Fichte had already sinned, 
 in the metaphysical region, by his fatal exclusion of 
 individuality from his notion of the pure "I," But, 
 not content to have shorn the real individual of meta- 
 physical significance, he must needs impoverish him 
 in ethical content. Yet Fichte had an intensely 
 ethical nature. If it had been only a question of 
 what he says in ' The Destination of Man ' concerning 
 the interdependence of souls, it would have been all 
 right, — " The individual finds and understands and 
 loves himself only in another, and every spirit develops 
 itself only in contact with other spirits." If the one 
 is to be essentially sacrificed, in the manner already 
 indicated, to the many, rational theory of self-sacrifice 
 is destroyed. But a rational judgment of obligation 
 is required for ethical value. Fichte has, however, 
 meritoriously caught up the idea of development, in 
 advance of Kant, in his resolution of moral action 
 into a striving towards the ideal, so unattained, and 
 in his insistence on the moral fulfilment of destiny. 
 Of course, I realise myself both in and through society, 
 but I, as an individual self, am certainly not the 
 abstraction which certain philosophical writers are 
 pleased to assert in their overweighted stress on the 
 doctrine of community. My self is for me, unique, 
 
ETHICAL VALUE OP INDIVIDUALITY 63 
 
 definite, concrete, and ultimate unit of experience. 
 But this imports nothing of Eousseau's absurd tend- 
 ency to treat man as a solitary individual ; for the 
 individual knows it is for society he is destined, and 
 only claims full possession of himself in order that 
 he may, in conscious voluntary self-dedication, give 
 himself to the service of society or humanity. This 
 means a vastly greater ethical value for his indi- 
 viduality than the mere intellectual recognition of 
 his being, in quasi-naturalistic or mechanical fashion, 
 "part " of an organic whole. There seems no need 
 to forget, as is so often completely done, that in the 
 very conception of an individual (Individuum), there 
 is imphed interconnection or Zusammenhang, a whole 
 or wholeness from which, as thought-field, we set 
 bounds, under specific marks, to the individual as a 
 unity, and determine his essence. But the fixation 
 is not a finality, since the individual, in his peculiar 
 relation to the whole, tends to outrun or escape it, 
 in the ethical maimer or spirit just described. And 
 thus it comes about that consciousness is not a mere 
 existent in individualised centres, but " is a function 
 that carries the individual beyond the limits of his 
 particular mode of existence, and reveals to him his 
 place as a member of an objective order." ^ Every 
 person is thus a more or less universahsed individual, 
 and his individuality calls for the maximisation of 
 his ethical value. For there is surely no more mis- 
 chievous conception of individuahty than that which 
 regards it as closed, finished, stereotyped once and 
 for all, instead of regarding it as a mere projection, 
 susceptible of constant enlargement or development 
 
 1 J. E. Creighton, 'The Philosophical Review,' March 1913. 
 
64 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 in range, rationality, and moral power and interest. 
 This enhancement of experience involves for the indi- 
 viduahty an ascending scale of life-values, in which 
 universal interests, standards, and ends, are the lure 
 whereby it is drawn upwards and onwards in this 
 advance. But the individuality retains its unique- 
 ness, has a determinate form exclusively its own, 
 and the issue is a life whose match has not been 
 lived before. It does not find Miinsterberg's " im- 
 personal over-experience," " after eliminating aU the 
 characteristics of the individuaUty as such," neces- 
 sary, justifiable, or inviting. Such an artificial depo- 
 tentiation of our being " as the selfhood without 
 individuality " suggested in his so-caUed " overself," 
 may do for a fanciful world of values, but not for 
 the real world of moral values, with which all men 
 — and not merely web -spinning philosophers — have 
 to do. If, as is sometimes (though none too dis- 
 criminatingly) said, man does not make values any 
 more than he makes reality, why should there be aU 
 this artificial construction of values that carry so 
 great sense of unreality *? Such a featureless unity 
 as Miinsterberg wishes for all souls of men is a very 
 uninspiring residuum. We shall do better to abide 
 by experience, our ErlebtJieit, and find the ethical 
 value of our individual being, in a more real way, as 
 part of the ordered whole of reahty, as spiritual. Of 
 course, there must be no sacrifice of society to the 
 individual, but there is something futile and absurd 
 in the attempts we have been considering to make 
 man attain the ideal by the artificial process of self- 
 diremption just described. The same thing is true 
 when Kant's duty to self is flouted, and the far from 
 
ETHICAL VALUE OF INDIVIDUALITY 65 
 
 new or original remark made that " from the very 
 notion of duty, it is impossible that I conld owe 
 myself any thing." ^ The self is undoubtedly an end 
 worthy to be developed for its own sake, but yet 
 the paradoxical seK is never for itself only, as I shall 
 bring out presently. We should be easily satisfied 
 if we allowed a mere etymological reference to settle 
 for us a matter of this kind. The feeling of ought- 
 ness in respect of duty-ideal is in truth a much wider 
 affair ; it is a fact of human consciousness too deep 
 to be so restricted to a purely social content. An 
 ecclesiastical system may so absorb men as thus to 
 eliminate their individuality, just as a philosophical 
 system with an impersonal whole may effect the like 
 unethical result, but the idea of duty in respect of 
 the individual's own moral perfection and develop- 
 ment is not thereby impugned or done away. There 
 is only a failure in respect of these systems to do 
 justice to ethical individuality. For if the ethical 
 individual must treat the person of others as an end 
 in itself, not merely as a means, why must he un- 
 ethically treat his own person merely as a means ? 
 A man is clearly bound to treat his own person, 
 equally with other persons, as an end in itself, and 
 not merely as a means. Even Metzsche saw and 
 said that, t£ men would be great, their first duty is 
 to respect themselves. It is for this reason that 
 Hoffding rightly insists that " there must be a 
 thorough-going individualising of the ethical de- 
 mand." Even one's self-preservation and self-de- 
 velopment will often outrun duty to self as end, 
 and prove beneficial to others, a fact which con- 
 
 1 'Mind,' July 1917, p. 294. 
 
 E 
 
66 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 stitutes an enhancement of the personal duty, and 
 widens its binding character. If I am to " love my 
 neighbour as myself," and should love my neighbour 
 greatly, I can do so only as I have learned to love 
 or respect myself greatly or worthily. For, as Pascal 
 said, "in a great soul, everything is great." This 
 need not keep the duty and necessity of self-sacrifice 
 from becoming so real to a man that, as Eenan 
 remarked, there is "no limit to the horizon which 
 opens before him." 
 
 The great metaphysician need not be a great ethical 
 individuaUty — that we have seen too well demon- 
 strated ; equally true it is that the distinguished 
 ethicist may too often be greatly wanting on the 
 metaphysical side ; the great religious personahty 
 even may not be a strikingly ethical individuality ; 
 but the great ethical individuality may, by happy 
 and fortunate combination, coincide with the great 
 metaphysical thinker and the great rehgious per- 
 sonality. That is a rare type of greatness. But the 
 social and moral evolution would be no virile process 
 if it did not produce such rich and multiplex per- 
 sonalities. They are the necessary variations on the 
 type. But the great ethical individuality — and that 
 is what now concerns us — has a greatness of his own, 
 a uniqueness, savour, distinctiveness, from every 
 other type or blend of greatness. But an ethical 
 greatness, that should stand alone and unsupported, 
 is not without danger and peril ; the fine gold is apt 
 to become both thin and dim. That must not be, 
 as we are here in the sphere of ethical achievement 
 — of pure and achieved ethical values — which must 
 always have an adequate metaphysical basis or sup- 
 
ETHICAL VALUE OF II?5^DIVIDUALITY 67 
 
 port. There are life-situations which call for con- 
 science, for responsibility, for duty-fulfilment, and in 
 these we must seek the realisation of high and pure 
 moral value — less as a matter of merit, more as a 
 matter of course, because therein lies the fulfilment 
 of our ethical being. But I am not saying that the 
 soul is not conscious of herself in these ethical out- 
 goings and advances, which are due, be it said, to 
 the ethical "ought " within or behind us. In these 
 experiences we have willed not only the particular 
 deeds or doings involved, but in them have wiUed 
 ourselves in the highest, achieving or realising new 
 and higher values. And the process is carried through 
 only and always under the ideal-positing of reason. 
 We seek to realise them in freedom, with a will which 
 is thus a strictly reasonable will. The true inward- 
 ness and unity of this whole ethical wiU-structure a 
 great ethical individuality will be careful to maintain, 
 for to him it would be intolerable to walk " with a 
 tortured double seK." For he has an inward con- 
 sciousness that morality is one, so that he may not 
 snatch an ethical fragment, and be indifferent to the 
 rest. To teach him that his ethical value lies thus 
 in the quality of his will has been the abiding service 
 of Kant in his stress on the good will — a stress antici- 
 pated, long before, by great schoolmen like Albertus 
 Magnus and Pomponazzi, a fact too greatly over- 
 looked. One of the finest features in Kant's insist- 
 ences (in the ' Critique of the Practical Eeason ') is, 
 that in such a wiU there must be, as " supreme con- 
 dition of the summum honum,'' nothing less than *' the 
 perfect accordance " of the mind with the moral law. 
 He admits this is only an ideal, but rightly demands 
 
68 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 that there shall be increasing approximation in " prac- 
 tical progress " towards this ideal. In all this one 
 can appreciate the great ethical services of Kant, 
 even if one does not — as I certainly do not — share in 
 aU respects his anti-intellectualism. I can never 
 bring myself to believe that only in one particular 
 way — the way of moral or practical reason — has God 
 revealed Himself, and not also in the superb workings 
 of theoretic reason and speculative insight. The 
 sundering is pernicious, and far too complete, but, 
 despite this divergence, the palm must be assigned 
 to Kant among modern ethicists. The supreme worth 
 of the moral life he has asserted for all time, and 
 nowhere has his own individuality been more marked 
 than here, where he lays on every man the duty to 
 realise his value as an ethical individuality. For it 
 is precisely the personal or individual character of 
 moral life or action that determines ethical value. 
 It is the free, voluntary ethical outgoing of the good 
 will, in scorn of consequence, that commands, and 
 always will command, our homage and admiration. 
 However varied the manifestations of ethical indi- 
 viduality, they aU spring from the ideal of duty — 
 an ideal that reigns high above all earthly vicissi- 
 tudes, and shapes personality and character. It is 
 our consciousness of the ethical value of our ideal and 
 end that constitutes the value of our ethical pursuit. 
 But the quest must be of our sense of absolute duty. 
 For the ethical value of our individuaUty must be 
 positive in character, and rich in quaUty. Its primary 
 concern is, as Kant rightly insisted, not with making 
 ourselves happy, but *' how we should become worthy 
 of happiness." Amid much one-eyed altruistic talk, 
 
ETHICAL VALUE OF INDIVIDUALITY 69 
 
 we may still recaU the words of Euskin, — " The real 
 sacrifice of all our strength, or life, or happiness to 
 others (though it may be needed, and though all 
 brave creatures hold their lives in their hand, to be 
 given, when such need comes, as frankly as a soldier 
 gives his Ufe in battle) is yet always a mournfid 
 and momentary necessity, not the fulfilment of the 
 continuous law of being." ^ 
 
 The reasonable character of ethical individuality, 
 and its purpose-positing activity or teleological deter- 
 mination, must be clearly kept in view, as, with the 
 consciousness of responsibility, marking it off from 
 being a nature-product or constituting mere nature- 
 life. Intelligence has its part to play in the culture 
 or upbuilding of ethical individuality, since it is the 
 duty of every man to find out concretely what is his 
 peculiar life-task, and what are his responsible pur- 
 poseful conceptions, which are to issue in his deeds. 
 His world-view must not be allowed — not even if it 
 be a supposedly religious one — to impede or con- 
 tradict his ethical consciousness. With iatelligence — 
 as representing the universal or world-reason in us — 
 must co-operate, in this upbuilding, the moral will, 
 that that unified impulse of the *' I," which alone 
 constitutes ethical individuality, may be realised. For 
 the world of knowledge and the world of will are not 
 two worlds, but two aspects of the one moral world. 
 But I do not by this mean to deny the senses in 
 which moral attitude may be one of valuing rather 
 than of mere knowledge. What I am here concerned 
 with is the fact that consciousness finds expression 
 in the will. Questions of race, temperament, national 
 
 ^ ** Ethics of the Dust," Lect. VI. 
 
70 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 and family type, all have place, of coxirse, in deter- 
 mining the individuality of the single person. But 
 these colourings or complexions are not differences 
 of a kind to supersede or dispense with the worth 
 and duty of studjing the ethical upbuilding of indi- 
 vidual character. The talk of Taine about race, 
 environment, and time, as sufficient to account for 
 individuality, is absurd in its neglect of the personal 
 equation. In his hands, "the frame tends to take 
 the place of the picture." The limits of environment 
 are, on the ethical side, very clearly marked. Genius, 
 no doubt, is rooted in a certain vast identity with 
 common men ; but no flat identities can prevent the 
 great, uprising, irreducible differences in genius or in 
 ethical individuahty. You do not get a Shakespeare, 
 a Cromwell, a Beethoven, in such merely environ- 
 mental ways. I have already spoken, both of the 
 unique character, and of the developing character, 
 of ethical individuahty. It is in the enlarging con- 
 sciousness of the ethical self, in the growing power 
 and value of its ethical individuality, that the worth 
 of the ethical spirit is seen and realised. In so treat- 
 ing the ethical type of individuahty, we are dealing 
 with something far other than that type of individu- 
 ality which is all that certain leading philosophers of 
 our time have given us, and which defines the indi- 
 vidual merely in terms of its spatial characters and 
 its physical exclusion of other things. It is the self- 
 hood of the moral self with which we are here con- 
 cerned, a seLf with freely chosen moral ideal. But it 
 is as by nature social beings, not stark and isolated 
 individuals, that we possess this moral ideal, for while 
 we preserve our ethical individuality in its integrity. 
 
ETHICAL VALUE OF mDIVIDUALITY 71 
 
 it is yet in the life of organic humanity that we find 
 our true life, and from the power or principle that 
 imderlies the whole that we derive our strength and 
 inspiration. The ripeness and fulness of ethical indi- 
 viduality will be drawn from the ideal fulness which 
 supports the whole — ^the one vast human organism. 
 Social evolution is possible, just because the ethical 
 individual is no abstract and isolated individual, but 
 a socius, with capacities for service, sympathy, and 
 fellowship, within the encircling sphere of the organic 
 whole. He is such as under the sway of the moral 
 " ought." Obligation is imposed by this conscious 
 possession of moral ideal. Eoyce talks much of the 
 " attentively selected " ideal of the self, and of its 
 " choosing " the ideal, and this is right, for it must 
 be freely chosen. But it must not, for all that, be 
 supposed that the ideal is what it is, simply because 
 it is chosen. The ideal is not simply of the individual, 
 neither is it furnished by society ; its ideal source 
 is behind and deeper than either the individual or 
 the system of society. The ethical individual is con- 
 stitutive of society, and not merely constituted by 
 it ; and his moral ideal, however much developed by 
 interactions with society, does not come from society, 
 does not spring from its relationships, but is of his 
 own essence. But that does not keep his ideal from 
 being also social, as he himself is by nature and 
 destination. For the social side of the self is to be 
 regarded as ha^vtug a place that is fundamental ; and 
 not the individual aspect only. Individuality is thus 
 transcended in our relations, but never annulled or 
 abandoned. But to treat the moral ideal as not 
 intrinsic or inherent in man, but mere fruit of develop- 
 
72 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 ment, or result of environment, can never be a satis- 
 factory account of man as man. As we have seen 
 the sense in which the self is social, so must we recog- 
 nise the sense in which society is essentially individual, 
 and the man not a product, but an original and pro- 
 ducing power. From this point of view, the com- 
 munity or social organism is significantly resolved into 
 individualistic relations, in which ethical individuality 
 is the thing of supreme significance and value, judging 
 all things, and itself judged of none. For it alone 
 carries within it the ideal as a universal particular. 
 Self and society belong to one moral cosmos ; and 
 though we have, for the avoidance of what is con- 
 fused and ill-defined, differentiated duty to self from 
 duty to others, yet there is, of course, a certain sense 
 in which every duty to self is, at the same time, 
 fulfilment of a duty to others — to the moral whole. 
 Our moral individuality wiU react beneficially on 
 others, on the community, from direct and intense 
 culture and development of our inmost nature. For 
 no other can fulfil the duty of self-culture in me, 
 any more than I can perform that duty in and for 
 any other. It has already been made apparent, how 
 every duty fulfilled to others makes for my own 
 ethical good. If one's only end is seeking the good 
 of others, one is somewhat dependent upon outer 
 events, and there is much to be said for the con- 
 tention ^ that man should have a moral end that 
 depends upon himseK alone, and that this should be 
 found in the moral blessedness that attends the con- 
 sciousness of right-doing, of doing one's moral best. 
 Only, this must mean no slackening of his service to 
 
 ^ Of Gizycki and others. 
 
ETHICAL VALUE OF INDIVIDUALITY 73 
 
 mankind, while caring most for self-approval. All 
 this play of individuality is necessary, for, if each 
 individual were like every other, the community of 
 individuals would cease to have any interest for us. 
 It is with conscious iudividuality we are now con- 
 cerned, where the ethical individual is himself all 
 the time, and here, as Prof. J. H. Tufts has said, 
 " since the moral seK is completely rational, com- 
 pletely social, it has a standard and motive and 
 authority which are universal." ^ The free exercise 
 of reason, the practical reason, is necessary through- 
 out the whole process of the realisation of the ideal 
 — a process of the self, and a process within the self. 
 The " I " in its knowing activity, projects an ideal, 
 which it seeks to realise by the action of the will, 
 reasonable wiU, rightly understood, being central in 
 our ethical activities. Thus it comes that, in the 
 ethical self -positing of the "I," there is something 
 creative. This " I " has relations to things other 
 and larger than itself ; there is no reason why the 
 unity of the moral personality should fail to recognise 
 its own organic and relational character. But rela- 
 tions are, of course, not entities, and it is not admis- 
 sible, without cause shewn, to suppose relations to 
 be of more significance than the things or beings 
 themselves. It is through real moral action that 
 ethical personality is developed, but such personality 
 is itself the source and spring of moral productive- 
 ness. The unified character of ethical personality 
 must be maintained against all tendencies to resolve 
 it into a psycho-physical aggregation or conglomerate 
 
 1 'Studies in Philosophy and Psychology,' p. 19. (Garman Com- 
 mem. vol.) 
 
74 GBEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOELEMS 
 
 of particular wiUings and representations. For the 
 essence of ethics is the being, and not merely the 
 doing, of an autonomous self, whose " active energy," 
 says Spencer, " wells up from the depths of con- 
 sciousness." The final ground of all being, for that 
 matter, is ethical, no less than rational. Eucken has 
 a good deal to say of the " rightful claims " of the 
 State over against the individual with his " threatened 
 isolation " and " growing apathy," but is yet com- 
 pelled to admit that a system '' which places the 
 individual above all else must undoubtedly prove 
 superior to any other system in origiaality, mobility, 
 and variety." ^ 'Not should it be overlooked how 
 often the " isolation " of the iadividual has induced, 
 so far from '* apathy," the highest spiritual energy 
 and the greatest mental activity, with incalculable 
 benefit and enrichment to the world. We could as 
 httle spare the great individuahty of a Newman with 
 his " isolation," as we could the powerful individuahty 
 of a Johnson with his endless sociahties. There is 
 no lack of truth in Metzsche's word, — *' Away from 
 the market-place and fame, aU that is great betakes 
 itself ; away from the market-place and fame, the 
 creators of new values have always dwelt." Em- 
 phaticaUy I assert, " Bene qui latuit, bene vixit," as 
 cases like Descartes and Spinoza, Petrarch and Bruno, 
 Carlyle and Darwin, Milton and Jeremy Taylor shew. 
 In any case, the freedom of the individual, in life and 
 thought, cannot be filched away without serious loss. 
 And as for the State, it is founded on the idea or 
 principle of right, and its embodying this principle is 
 a thing of moral value ; the State must reaUse its 
 
 ^ Article "Individuality" in 'Hastings' Ency./ vol. vii. 
 
ETHICAL VALUE OF INDIVIDUALITY 75 
 
 fimction as an independent ethical fabric for the 
 administration of public justice. One can well agree 
 with Spinoza that " the end of the State is liberty, 
 that man should in security develop soul and body, 
 and make free use of his reason." But, on the other 
 hand, one must emphatically repudiate Spinoza's 
 denial of individuality or self-determination to finite 
 beings ; his dissolution of all real being in the one 
 indivisible substance was no happy affair. The indi- 
 vidual does not exist to be treated even by the State 
 only as a means. Ethical individuality stands for 
 the wholeness of our nature, as permeated and suffused 
 with ethical spirit, when fronting humanity in the 
 wholeness of its ethical possibilities. It is as member 
 of the one vast ethical system or body that the ethical 
 individuality is inspired to yield its own peculiar 
 and distinctive ethical contribution to the moral 
 wealth of the whole, so far is it from beiag egoistically 
 arrayed against that totality. This it does under the 
 impulse of the moral ideal which, as a fact within our 
 experience, is yet not a fact derived entirely from 
 our experience. The moral ideal has always stood 
 out to men as an unattained and unfulfilled ideal. 
 Ulrici urges that we must go out beyond experience 
 in forming the ideal concept of the highest possible 
 perfection of the human being or essence ; it is not 
 without experience, he says, but certainly not through 
 experience.^ This accords with what I have already 
 urged as to the moral ideal being deeper than either 
 the individual or society. And one may surely say 
 that the ethical individuality, in seeking fulfilment of 
 the moral ideal, must be imder the lead of reason, 
 
 ^ ' Qott und der Mensch,' vol. ii. pp. 84, 85. 
 
76 GEBAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 dynamic and directive. Morality is not made by 
 thought, but is '' recognised by reason through a 
 necessity which is antecedent to all subjective ac- 
 tivity." But the ethical individual would, as we 
 have seen, be unintelligible without relation to other 
 selves. The true end of ethical individuality must 
 be taken to be the perfection of self and others in the 
 order of human life, as, for it, the thing of intrinsic 
 and abiding value. In this reference to others, one 
 may recall the remark of Wundt that such " altruism 
 always belongs to the ethics of feeling." Green's end 
 for man as the " abiding satisfaction of an abiding 
 self " is, therefore, taken by him to imply man " as 
 Uving in the successful pursuit of various interests 
 which the order of society, taking the term in its 
 widest sense, has determined for him." It is ia such 
 interactions of the self, ia its devotement to the 
 ideal, that ethical harmony and adjustment are to 
 be realised. Thus thought is kept from circling too 
 much around the self, a necessary precaution while 
 maintaining the integrity of ethical individuality. A 
 man's best or ideal self — which is to be realised — ^is 
 his best for others as well as for himself. I agree with 
 Hoffding that the best development of the individual 
 may not necessarily so serve society, but I think it 
 will do so if it is an ethical development. But it is 
 a long and toilsome road before some individualities, 
 that of Goethe for example, understand and realise 
 whereiQ their own peculiar power and individuality 
 he. When Goethe did make the discovery, he re- 
 mained — although he could say, " where I cannot 
 be moral, my power is gone " — predominantly an 
 intellectual iadividuaUty, as compared, say, with 
 
ETHICAL VALUE OF INDIVIDUALITY 77 
 
 Carlyle, who was a nearer representative of the cate- 
 gorical imperative individualised, though no perfect 
 one. Ethical individuaUty neither stands absolutely 
 by itself, nor hangs uncertainly in the air, but is 
 deep-set in the moral order. Of this order it was 
 weU said by Trendelenburg, in his ' Historical Con- 
 tributions to Philosophy,' that " an ethical philosophy 
 which would exclude pleasure would be contrary to 
 nature ; and one which would make a principle of it 
 would be contrary to spirit." This realisation of 
 one's true self in and for others can, of course, only 
 be a gradual affair — imphes, as Green says, " a pro- 
 gressive determination of the idea of the end itself." 
 For the activity of reason is not finished and perfect ; 
 moral intelligence is a developing magnitude. The 
 harmonisation of all the impulses and forces of life 
 is not soon accomplished. But this progressive aspect 
 must not obscure the duty to make the individuality 
 a rounded affair, to form the personality into a totahty. 
 Such a microcosm it should certainly be. To make of 
 itseK and its manifold activities a relative whole, is 
 precisely its life-work. And as for the society aspect, 
 there is always the question whether the society 
 realises the conditions that in it one is treated as end, 
 and not merely as a means — a test too often and too 
 easily overlooked. The subservience of the actual to 
 the ideal must be our individual and steadfast aim. 
 The greatest conditioned good that is possible can be 
 actualised ia no other way. A great love of the 
 infinite ideal will raise us, and help us realise the 
 ideal self. " Rarum est enim, ut satis se quisque 
 vereatur."' It will enlarge the circle and widen the 
 scope of our self-determining freedom, to embrace 
 
78 GBEAT PHILOSOPHIGAIi PEOBLEMS 
 
 the ideal so. Endless is the vista of vital and con- 
 crete moral progress opened by the possibilities and 
 demands of the ethical ideal. As for the creative 
 office of the ethical individuality, this belongs to him 
 as participant in the social whole, taken in the largest 
 sense, for he may And his alter ego in another continent 
 than his own ; the ideal community may, for htm, 
 be the community of all mankind. !N'ot, I think, 
 without large horizons and long views can the recipro- 
 cities and interdependence of self and the commxmity 
 or social whole be rendered satisfactory to some minds 
 — a fact too rarely recognised. But this must be 
 without the tendency towards sentimental dissolution 
 of real selfhood in the mere idea of humanity. The 
 ethical individual knows he cannot be a morally 
 detached individual, but must create new value for 
 himself as a person, by his life-task within and for 
 the social whole. Ever straitened within himself he 
 must be till this life-task, this ethical warfare, be 
 accomplished. It is the nature, the very genius, of 
 true life — life creative of new value — that it should 
 be so. Such life has its ideal extensions, its moral 
 extensions of the present, which must be kept in 
 view. My ethical individuality is not merely an 
 individual value, but a value that concerns the world ; 
 is not merely a present value, but endures through 
 time. Such I take to be the conservation of value 
 in the ethical realm — ^the realm of ends, where man 
 is legislator as weU as subject. 
 
 ^It must be evident what redemption from moral 
 monotony, from ethical sameness and tameness, 
 springs out of the diversities of ethical individuality. 
 But, of course, the fact of individuality cannot be 
 
ETHICAL VALUE OF ESTDIVIDUALITY 79 
 
 so accentuated as to overlook the elements of same- 
 ness or likeness found in different individuals, for no 
 antithetical aspects of sameness and individuality can 
 be allowed to be such as to infringe or imperil the 
 unity of the moral world, or to obscure the mutual 
 and serviceable relations that must exist between 
 these contrastive aspects. The value of my ethical 
 individuality is realised in the ethical ends that stand 
 out for me as individually mine — of supreme and 
 unescapable value for me. For my moral responsi- 
 bility is involved in this ethical choice of ends ; no 
 valuation by any other, or for any other, can for a 
 moment take the place of the determinations of my 
 own moral consciousness. That is my uniqueness as 
 an ethical individual ; it belongs to no other, is in- 
 defeasibly my own. The conception of the individual 
 per se is doubtless an abstraction ; the individuality 
 must be that of the concrete seK of consciousness, 
 as here, and as this and not that. I have the power, 
 not only to posit myself as an independent subject 
 over against world objects, but to distinguish different 
 sensations, feelings, impulses, in myself, from myself 
 and from one another. This self-consciousness is the 
 condition and the presupposition of my self-deter- 
 mination. Ethical self-determination is no chance 
 product, nor arbitrary result : it is the issue of severe 
 self-traioiag in ethical principles and spirit. It is 
 also true that the universal is present in the indi- 
 vidual, but if you make the universal that which 
 piu^ely constitutes the individual, so that the indi- 
 vidual is no longer known save in its universal guise 
 or aspect, you destroy the individual altogether, and 
 merge it in, or confound it with, the generic type of 
 
80 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 selfhood. It is then no longer true that the indi- 
 vidual is the real. But, in less formal modes of 
 speech, it is as self-conscious that the individual is 
 real, with interest as a concrete tadividual in the 
 whole world of reality. This consciousness of moral 
 personality becomes at length the sovereign fact in 
 experience. In this consciousness of its own intrinsic 
 value, the soul chooses ends and objects that have 
 for it meaning or value. We exaggerate what ethical 
 laws, codes, maxims, can do. Ethical individuality, 
 when finely exemplified, does far more than these, 
 for it takes up into itself, and embodies, the free 
 creative spirit of virtue, whereby it makes for itself 
 ethical discoveries and divinations, and translates 
 them into action or practice in the most diverse cir- 
 cumstances and variegated forms, so that moral 
 splendour, moral beauty, moral fitness, moral sub- 
 limity, result. The ethical value of such individuahsed 
 life and action has immediate significance for others 
 — and that of the finest character. It is because, in 
 moral matters or duties, so much falls to be decided 
 by individual judgment, that ethical iudividuaUty has 
 such large scope and free play. Many of the greatest 
 issues in hf e are thus involved : the pages of biography 
 teem with proofs. This problematic character of 
 many moral situations is not always properly recog- 
 nised. There may be a conflict of ends or values in 
 the ethical situation ; but there is also a logic in the 
 situation which should not be overlooked, as it may 
 have something to teach. Ethical study, so con- 
 ceived, is far more impelling and inspiring than is 
 ordinarily imagined. It is an uniUumined view which 
 regards ethics as an order of iron rule or leaden 
 
ETHICAL VALUE OF IliTDIVIDUALITY 81 
 
 unif ormityj with no play of inventive genius or faculty. 
 I have not at all, in saying these things, been for- 
 getting that the sphere of ethical individuality is 
 confined to moral obligation, but neither am I for- 
 getting that the domain of moral obligation is always 
 extending, a fact too often neglected or unperceived. 
 The genuine inwardness of the whole moral process 
 must be steadily kept in view, as consisting in the 
 consent of the will to what forms its own good, under 
 a sense of moral obligation which is inward, never 
 imposed from without. All this imder the command 
 of, and in conformity with, reason, as mine. The 
 invisible things of ethics — love, honour, justice, good- 
 ness, and the rest — are the values which, so far as 
 they are mine, make my ethical individuality what it 
 distinctively is. I do not make (save in the sub- 
 jective or idealistic sense), nor can I alter, these 
 ethical values ; 'tis they that make me. This belongs 
 to their absolute aspect, however relative they must 
 always appear in me. My being is measured by my 
 degree of relative perfection. My individuality is not 
 mere defect, limitation, or hindrance, as it has some- 
 times been taken to be, but rather represents the 
 nobility of the force which I am, in that I am so 
 far from any mere congeries of atoms, or any sort of 
 arithmetical sum. My individuality means that I 
 am not a mere part or function of anything, nor a 
 mere determinate appearance of a imiversal soul, nor 
 a drop in the pantheistic ocean, but a bom original, 
 so far at least as to have properties or qualities that 
 differentiate me from every other. This does not 
 keep my individuality from being a developing whole, 
 as various and discordant impulses are controlled and 
 
 F 
 
82 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 organised into the more coherent and harmonious 
 whole which I become. Nor does it keep me, as an 
 ethical individual, from the needfid task of more fully 
 adjusting my individuality to the social system in 
 which I am set. This should be natural, but is often 
 painfully sacrificial ; as said George Eliot : " We can 
 have the highest happiness — such as goes along with 
 being a great man — only by having wide thoughts 
 and much feeling for the rest of the world as well as 
 for ourselves ; and this sort of happiness often brings 
 so much pain with it that we can only tell it from 
 pain by its being what we choose before everything 
 else, because our souls see it is good." 
 
 The twofold progressive reahsation which has just 
 been spoken of moves towards unity and enlargement 
 of the developing self. This unified and developed 
 self finds its self-fulfilment in freely giving itself to 
 the service of the race or the social whole. Such 
 self-fulfilment may remain always more or less an 
 ideal, an ideal of the ethical reason, but it is an ideal 
 which the ethical self can never relinquish. For the 
 free, conscious, active, purposive effort towards the 
 realisation of the Ideal is what is deepest or most 
 fundamental in ethics. Such free creativeness is fulfil- 
 ment of the highest law of reason, Nor does the indi- 
 viduality become lost, or lose its distinctive colour, 
 in the process ; nay, the distinctive quality or colour- 
 ing remains, taking only richer hues, deeper tints, 
 and finer shades, from the process. It has been said 
 that Herder, for example, made everything he learned, 
 whether as philosopher, historian, or poet, Herder, 
 It has been said that " the greatness of the individual 
 is measured by the number of minds he can absorb 
 
ETHICAL VALUE OF INDIVLDUALITT 83 
 
 and signify " : on that view of it, he includes within 
 himself a world of ever-increasing greatness, which 
 goes to form his individuality, and which he, by the 
 plus and stamp of his individuality, goes, in his 
 turn, to modify, or form, or create. But the develop- 
 mental and interactive processes do not fix and pre- 
 determine me, Spencer-wise, as a mere "resultant," 
 for it belongs to my unique individuaUty to prove 
 and show what my individual initiative, personal pro- 
 jections, and particular achievement, shall be. This 
 it does only by reaching out to an end beyond itself, 
 even though we have seen it to be an end in itself ; 
 for the divine dignity of the individual spirit is un- 
 attainable save in the outreachings of thought, sym- 
 pathy, love, and service. In the nature of the case, 
 the individual must stand in relations, and needs the 
 intercommunion of being, with the expansions, repul- 
 sions, and discipline, involved therein, for the attain- 
 ment of the high ethical individuality which is his 
 goal. But, as such an individuality, he will neither 
 lose himself in society, nor merge himself in the 
 State. As Eoyer-Collard remarked : *' Human socie- 
 ties are born, live, and die upon the earth ; there 
 they accomplish their destinies. But they contain 
 not the whole man." "We, individuals, each with 
 a separate and distinct existence, with an identical 
 person, we, truly beings endowed with immortality, 
 have a higher destiny than that of States." 
 
84 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE CHARACTER OF COGNITIVE ACTS. 
 
 The character of cognitive acts is an obscure and 
 difficult subject, on which the last word is not likely 
 to be said for many a day. A personal and inde- 
 pendent view may therefore be expressed upon it. 
 Knowledge at its simplest is of things or objects, 
 through the senses ; and of mind's own states, through 
 the inner sense. In sense-knowledge, the unsophisti- 
 cated mind regards the scene or object beheld as one 
 or singular, when it is really complex. In seK-know- 
 ledge it in like manner regards its thought-states as 
 states of thinking or of sentiency, in a kind of singu- 
 larity, without distinguishing them in their reaUy 
 complex character. It does not realise that knowledge 
 at its simplest calls for the activity of the subject. 
 It has not learned the greatness of that moment in 
 which, as a poet has said : — 
 
 " Belief overmasters doubt, and I know 
 That I know." 
 
 Such primitive knowledge is always concrete — ^that 
 is, of objects with their qualities ; neither, that is to 
 say, of objects apart from qualities, nor of qualities 
 
THE CHAEACTEE OF COGNITIVE ACTS 85 
 
 apart from objects. But this uncritical frame of 
 mind is soon overpassed. 
 
 In all cognition there is a real subject and a real 
 object, and an actual and essential relation between 
 them. Can that relation be treated as merely an 
 abstraction ? Can the cognitive act be regarded as 
 itself a relation ? Is the object a constituent of the 
 cognitive act ? Does the quality of the act determine 
 that of the object ? Or is the quality of the act 
 determined by that of the object ? These are among 
 the bristling questions that surround the subject, and 
 call for discussion. To begin with, the cognitive act 
 arises or takes place whenever there is real agree- 
 ment between a subject capable of knowing, and an 
 object capable of being known. The cognitive act 
 is in character a unifying act. But the object neither 
 is, nor can be, identified with the subject, if cognition 
 is to remain possible. Cognition may approximate to 
 being or the object as nearly as you like, but, by its 
 nature and its situation, it must fall short of being. 
 Cognition is, on the one side, the peculiar action of 
 of the subject, but is, on the other side, action 
 which is directed and regulated by the object. This 
 in its first part, does not mean, as is sometimes charged 
 against ideaUsm, that the cognition is any free or 
 fantastic or arbitrary production or creation of the 
 subject. It only means that the " I," in its unity 
 and self-identity, is the condition of all knowledge, 
 Nor does it signify, in the second part, that the 
 cognition is the result of any mechanically determined 
 influence of an external object. If objection be made 
 to the object being regarded as a constituent of the 
 cognitive act, the objection may, I think, be upheld ; 
 
86 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PROBLEMS 
 
 for it seems obvious that if the cognitive act be a 
 unifying one, and the object one of the terms to be 
 unifiedj the object cannot be a constituent of the 
 cognising or unifying act. But that must not be 
 allowed to obscure the fact that the objective refer- 
 ence is essential to the psychic being of any com- 
 pleted cognition. For the knowledge problem is 
 certainly the knowledge-of -reality problem. You can 
 consider the cognitive act, psychologically, by itself, 
 and without the object as a constituent ; you may 
 have cognitive power or faculty without the object ; 
 such cognitive power is indifferent towards this or 
 that object. But, cut off from the object, no real, 
 definite, completed cognition is possible. That is 
 an epistemological consideration ; for epistemology 
 deals with the objective or cognitive side. This 
 power of knowing was already thought of by Aris- 
 totle, whose intellectus agens — or intellect originaUy 
 and naturally in act — ^was meant to explain how 
 cognitions first became possible. Leibniz, later, in 
 his own way, made the understanding a mere power 
 of knowing. The power or activity of knowing, 
 however, isolated and with nothing given, cannot be 
 for epistemology an object of knowledge. The object 
 is as essential a factor in such cognition as is the 
 subject, such is the correlation between them. But 
 the constitutive essential of the cognitive act is always 
 this : that it knows some thing or object to be or not 
 to be, to be in one particular manner or in another. 
 It is to the cognitive act that the thing, which so is, 
 appears, and obviously not without the cognitive 
 act can the thing so appear. If it did not appear 
 it would be to me nothing at all. But an appearance. 
 
THE CHAEACTER OF C0G:N"ITIVE ACTS 87 
 
 in which no being did appear, would not be an ap- 
 pearance at all, but an illusion. Every cognitive 
 act involves the mental representation that what 
 appears and is known, is in some way a reality. 
 Otherwise, interest and energy for knowing would be 
 paralysed. True, our cognitive acts may often enough 
 be concerned with the qualities or properties of things 
 rather than with their existence, but the values we 
 find in them have their final support ia being or 
 reality. Eeahty, therefore, is the presupposition of 
 knowledge. It is the imphcate, ia fact, of our cog- 
 nitive consciousness. And because of the ontological 
 impUcates of all knowledge I have devoted a separate 
 chapter ia this work to the discussion of the ontolo- 
 gical consciousness. Thiags or objects exist before 
 they enter iato our individual experience. Experi- 
 ence is of the possible as well as of the actual, hence 
 the continual advance of knowledge. But the cog- 
 nitive act is iadivldual iu character, however universal 
 its underlying presupposition may be. That is to 
 say, the cognitive acts are pecuhar to the individual 
 subject, whose acts they are. For there is to every 
 man a knowledge which is his knowledge, and be- 
 longs to him ia a sense in which it does not to any 
 other. Spontaneity is fundamentally necessary to 
 the cognitive acts, if there is to be knowledge at all. 
 But it is to be observed that, as a formula, subject 
 and object are only an abstraction, which merely 
 tells what is common to all cognitive acts, but says 
 nothiag about the nature of the thing or object. 
 And things as knowable must be considered, as well 
 as thiags as known, if we are to understand the 
 nature of knowledge and its acts. 
 
88 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLBMS 
 
 The cognitive act is relational in characteij for to 
 know a thing is to stand in a certain relation to it. 
 But though we say our cognitive act of relating 
 activity constitutes the relation of knowledge, that 
 does not mean that the cognitive act is itself the 
 relation, which we do not seem entitled to say. The 
 relation subsists between the terms or entities, but 
 is not itself any kind of entity. And the cognitive 
 act, which is subjective, cannot itself be the relation, 
 since the relation goes beyond it — ^is, in fact, trans- 
 subjective, siace the relation is directed to what 
 might be called the extrinsic term, or the object. 
 What we are now considering is, not cognitions, but 
 the cognitive act, whose characters are opposed to 
 those of the object. But not in such wise as to pre- 
 vent the cognitive assimilation of the object by our 
 consciousness. For, as the Scholastic philosophers 
 insisted, there must be a certain similitude or re- 
 semblance between the knower and the known — ^in 
 our exterior knowledge these similitudes drawn from 
 the senses but not yet constituting thought — ^in order 
 to the possibihty of knowledge. '* The knowledge of 
 things," said Edward Caird, "must mean that the 
 mind finds itself in them, or, ia some way, that the 
 difference between them and mind is dissolved." 
 But what identity does result from their imion is 
 not of a kind that does away with difference ; their 
 oneness is not that of a numerical one. The knower 
 and the related known are still different, since it is 
 of the essence of relation that they should be so, 
 however we may speak of the object becoming for, 
 or turning over into, the mtad. Even the logical 
 transcendentahsm of Husserl strongly emphasises 
 
THE CHAEACTER OF COGmTIVE ACTS 89 
 
 this fundamentally different character of the object 
 from my act. The object is the object — ^for the ex- 
 istence of the object is to be distinguished from its 
 existence as object — ^because it is susceptible of 
 entering into a special rapport, but that is without 
 its thereby becoming part of consciousness itself. 
 So the object cannot be considered a constituent 
 of the act, though it is essential to the cognition. 
 The known object remains transcendent to the act, 
 and, though implying the cognitive act, is not identi- 
 fied with it. For it is not psychic experience. The 
 object, besides being per se, is by the other — that is, 
 by the psychic act, but yet the cognitive act and 
 the object both remain what each of them is, and 
 neither is transmuted into the other. The cognitive 
 act remains in character subjective, as the act of the 
 subject, but it is objective through its intention — ^in 
 the philosophical usage of that term — as referring to 
 an object transcending this subjective activity. This 
 makes the character of the cognitive act a sufficiently 
 striking — and, if you will, mysterious — one, since it 
 is immanent, and yet intentionaliter — as the Schol- 
 astics say — transeunt or transitive, as tending to 
 something outside the subject. Knowing is just the 
 passing of the subject-activity to the cognitive em- 
 brace of the object. Kriowing determines the object 
 for us. This "intentional" direction to the object 
 furnishes the matter or content of the act. The 
 object, however, always remains outside the subject, 
 and is really separate from it, and from the psychic 
 act by which it is itself known. Though the object 
 is thus not a constituent of the cognitive act, as dis- 
 tinguished from the completed cognition, that is not 
 
90 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PROBLEMS 
 
 to say it is not related to the cognitive awareness. 
 And the object or reality is always essentially know- 
 able, else epistemology were impossible. It is by 
 these properties which render it knowable that the 
 object mediates the cognitive act. And it is only as 
 the object finds itself, if we may so speak, in the 
 subject, that its own full reality, as object, is attained. 
 But the object could not be so combined with the 
 conscious self if it were not essentially related to it. 
 The subject and the object are to me the two terms 
 of the relation, and I should not call the cognitive 
 act, as I have seen done, one of the terms of the 
 relation. The cognitive act is an event or occurrence 
 of consciousness ; aU knowledge is an activity of the 
 knower or subject. That does not at all mean, as is 
 sometimes wrongly supposed, that the "I," which is 
 the bearer of the knowing activity, is something 
 other than the cognitive acts. How could that be 
 when the acts are the acts of the "I," which lives in 
 — ^but not simply as — and expresses itself through 
 the acts ? It is this " I " which gives to the cog- 
 nitive act its character and value. The cognitive 
 acts do not float about in space, cut adrift from the 
 knowing subject, as is sometimes represented, how- 
 ever advantageous we may find it to consider their 
 characters by themselves. IsTor does the cognitive 
 act exist per se, but in a mental setting or matrix. 
 The cognitive act may be only an abstraction, con- 
 sidered as a moment in the formation of abstract 
 knowledge, but in actual life the cognitive act is as 
 real and vital as the act of feeling or the act of will- 
 ing. Only it is predominantly intellectual in char- 
 acter, while carrying will and feeling elements. I, 
 
THE CHAEACTEE OF COGNITIVE ACTS 91 
 
 too, am real, even in my cognitive acts, and not less 
 real than the object. The cognitive act is distinctive 
 enough, hut is motived by interest and sustained by 
 attention. Every relation calls for a foundation in 
 the terms or objects between which it exists. A 
 relation has in itself no reality other than that of its 
 terms. But the relation is real if the terms are real ; 
 and things do certainly exist in their relations. 
 Hence in knowing real objects there is knowledge of 
 objective relations. The terms are not the relation 
 itself. But the relation has a ground, and, in cog- 
 nitive experience, is determinate. There have been 
 thinkers who made the relation the only real — ^not 
 the terms, in which the ground-possibility of know- 
 ledge resides. An obviously absurd position, since, 
 in all knowledge, the subject is fundamentally related 
 to the object. If all knowledge were of relations, 
 how could you know relations without being aware 
 of the terms related *? That, of coiirse, is not to say 
 that properly-grounded relations may not themselves 
 be compared. The relation, as I know it, subsists 
 only in my thought, though not by my thought, in 
 the case of real, not logical relations. Though I am 
 conscious of the relation, yet the relation is not any- 
 thing I can handle or see ; it but expresses the con- 
 nectedness of the terms. But the question of cog- 
 nitive relation goes deep, for the relation-terms are 
 rooted in the cosmos, as grounded in thought, and 
 woven together of parts, powers, and properties, aU 
 inter-connected in an infinite network of relations. 
 So the cognitive -relation terms are not so easily 
 disposed of when we abstract them in what is really 
 an inter-related, inter-acting world, and try to con- 
 
92 GEBAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 sider them merely by themselves. For the subject, 
 too, is in the system, being only the last and highest 
 term therein. The object can be thought only in re- 
 lation to a consciousness, for objects apart from 
 consciousness have no meaning, and in this way 
 becomes a fact of consciousness, which is only to say 
 that we know it. But that does not mean that the 
 object is then only a fact of consciousness, or is only 
 content of consciousness. It is not dependent on 
 this consciousness, only its being known so depends. 
 The twinkling of the stars, the pealing of the organ, 
 the glowing crimson of the sunset — ^not one of these 
 depends upon my consciousness of it as an object. 
 The independence of the object is necessary to the 
 very idea of relation. But the result is, that the 
 cognitive act means conscious content in the knowing 
 subject. That is not to say that the content of per- 
 ception is identical with the object. The relation of 
 the cognitive act to the object is, psychologically, a 
 causal one, in the sense that not without our psychic 
 causality could it be known. This, albeit it is some- 
 times, and I think rightly, said that the co-ordination 
 is, epistemologically, non-causal. But the object is 
 not deprived of its place of directive and regulative 
 influence in what we know, so that in knowing there 
 is a conformity of the mind to the object. The sub- 
 ject is thus an objectively determined subject in its 
 turn. Yet the object can only be known according 
 to the modes of the knowing subject, which exerts 
 its centrifugal and projective psychical activity to- 
 wards and upon the object. Hence the cognitive act 
 is never a purely objective one, although it is truly 
 objective. Though the object exists even when 
 
THE CHAEACTEE OF COGISTITIVE ACTS 93 
 
 not perceived by us, as epistemological realism holds, 
 it does not follow that, when existing so unperceived, 
 it has the same qualities as pertain to it when per- 
 ceived by lis, in our constitutive or constructive 
 activity. That would be — so at least it seems to me 
 — ^to deny that the mind is anything in and for itself ; 
 it would reduce mind to a mere transparent film — a 
 mere cognitive awareness of objects. But the mind, 
 as Activity, is not a mere form, but has its own 
 active part to play. Though the knowledge which 
 results from our cognitive acts may be discovery — 
 of things in their positive characters — ^that is not to 
 say that there have been no constructive acts in the 
 erection of the fabric of knowledge. But that does 
 not make it necessary to resolve, with Cohen, all 
 cognition into construction, to make the object ex- 
 clusively the product of the thinking activities of 
 the subject, as though no reality existed independ- 
 ently of our thought. If, however, in the cognitive 
 act, the subject were merely impressed by the object, 
 the subject would not then be forming its own idea 
 of the object ; it would not be freely knowing and 
 independently thinking. So I hold subject and object 
 to be reciprocally determining, but the act of knowing 
 is a perfection of the subject. In this reciprocal work- 
 ing, the object communicates itself to the subject, 
 and the subject exerts its mental activity on the 
 object. 
 
 The cognitive act or knowing may be taken as real 
 and undoubted, but I can also, by an act of atten- 
 tion, observe the process of my own observing, or 
 be conscious of my own consciousness. This self- 
 attesting character of knowledge is in virtue of my 
 
94 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 power of introspection, whose reality has been un- 
 convincingly called in question. Whether such an 
 introspective act is in every case necessary to our 
 becomiag aware of anything mental is another matter. 
 Consciousness alone is immediately given, is concrete, 
 and internal in structure. Knowledge is not only a 
 function of this structure, but the knowing function is 
 the most universal function of consciousness. Con- 
 sciousness is active, is consciousness of an object. 
 And knowledge of objects always means relation. If, 
 in the cognitive act, the concept formed of the object 
 were — as some extreme forms of idealism have held — 
 wholly due to the subject, there would then reaUy 
 be no object. Yet many, since Kant, have placed the 
 elements or constituents of knowledge, in this way, 
 solely in the subject. Kant subjectivised the objects 
 of thought. Knowledge is then independent, so to 
 speak, of an object. But real knowledge, in such a 
 way, is imthiakable. The position is epistemologicaUy 
 absurd, for, in knowledge, every subject is by an 
 object, as every object is by a subject. The object 
 and the cognition are distinct, but they are not 
 separate. Subject and object both stand within one 
 system of reality. Kant distinguished the objectivity 
 of a mental act from the reality of the object, in the 
 sphere of theoretic reason. But when, in the sphere 
 of empiric reality, knowledge — which as positive 
 knowledge cannot here be d priori — ^is supposed inde- 
 pendent of an object, for it is only a modification of 
 my sensibility, knowledge becomes knowledge only 
 of our own ideas or representations. The elements 
 of the object are only in us. Knowledge, intercepted 
 by its own forms, never reaches reahty. Of the real 
 
THE CHAEACTEE OF COGIiriTIVE ACTS 95 
 
 — i.e., transcendental — object there can be no notion. 
 There is then only a subjective seeming, but no know- 
 ledge of, or contact with, things real. How, further, 
 could there be, when the subject is no real living 
 subject, but a mere logical cogito f Kant says that 
 while he surrendered "the power of cognising," he 
 still reserved "the power of thinhing,'' objects as 
 things in themselves. But he has shorn the cog- 
 nitive act of its power and value. So, too, since 
 Lotze, with his fundamental agnosticism, many make 
 the phenomenon something belonging exclusively to 
 the subject, a product of the mind, occasioned indeed 
 by things, but involving no real knowledge of things 
 as they are. It is such knowledge as always misses 
 or falls short of the object. How could it be other- 
 wise, when Lotze made the irremediable blunder of 
 making knowledge begin with the subjective in us — 
 which he objectified — ^instead of with the object, 
 which in consequence he never reached ? But there 
 is certainly nothing to prove that, in our conscious- 
 ness-content, there is awareness of our mental states, 
 and not of the things, as immediately known or per- 
 ceived. The truth is, there is something given which, 
 as Anstoss or opposition, as Fichte called it, stirs up 
 and determines the cognitive activity. And yet, 
 though the fact is generally overlooked, the true 
 object is the object of search rather than something 
 merely given. And the cognitive act is a far deeper, 
 more genuine affair than any hide-and-seek play 
 with reality. But all that does not keep the cog- 
 nitive act from being an interior or immanent one. 
 What the subject then does, in the exercise of its 
 power or capacity to realise the object, is to fix the 
 
96 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLBMS 
 
 form of its own cognitive product over against this 
 object-activity. But knowledge is, in my view, the 
 result of neither, but a permanent result, residue, 
 or souvenir of their co-activity and correlation. This 
 involves the cognitive act, which is in character 
 always imperfect or incomplete, since it never ex- 
 hausts the object in its wholeness. A complete 
 seizure of it is precisely the eternal quest. Besides 
 this invariable or imiversal character of imperfection 
 or Lucompleteness in the cognitive act, there is also 
 its variable character in virtue of the empirical con- 
 tingency and particularity of cognition in individual 
 experience, with its multitudinously variant forms. 
 For the subject is a particular knower, with unlimited 
 changes in the relations of fact and circumstance 
 in his environment, albeit knowing is universal. 
 That, however, does not keep the particular knower 
 from becoming always more universalised. For the 
 combining, self-active subject straightway proceeds 
 to make all things — the whole objective world, in 
 fact — his own, while his cognitive acts retain their 
 character of real inwardness, objective in intention 
 though they be. Though cognition may involve a 
 duahty of terms, the cognitive act itself must be 
 regarded as one indivisible act of the mind. The 
 elements of the indivisible sjoithesis are, no doubt, 
 distinguishable, and both would disappear if either 
 were removed, for, epistemologically, they are known 
 only ia synthesis. This synthesis of the two moments 
 we may, I thiuk, regard, with Schuppe, as origiaal 
 fact, not as a philosophical exphcation. Nor is there 
 any tertium quid, in order to the object being directly 
 cognised. In the cognitive acts the whole interpreta- 
 
THE CHAEACTEE OF COGOTTIVE ACTS 97 
 
 tive activity of thought falls within, not without ; 
 it goes to form our consciousness-content. It is this 
 unifying activity of the subject that makes his world. 
 Hence the importance of the study of the subject 
 to the theory of knowledge, but this in relation to the 
 object. 
 
 I think the cognitive act should be regarded as in 
 character progressive, not stationary or always the 
 same, for it surely grows in power, grasp, and in- 
 tensity, as the discriminating and imifying process 
 of thought goes forward. The act may in character, 
 no doubt, be always one of knowing, but the power 
 to know may increase to the nth degree. It has 
 been said, I am aware, that " there are no degrees 
 of intensity in cognition," the intensity beiug set 
 down to concomitant feeling. But the statement 
 seems to me to fail of reahsing that feeling belongs 
 to the senses, not to the imderstanding, and it is 
 a very questionable one, even though the intellectual 
 act is never unattended by feeling. Sense perceives 
 by feeling, but understanding judges what is so per- 
 ceived. There are surely degrees ia approximation to 
 perfection of knowing; why must the "intensity" 
 be credited only to the "feeling" element ? The 
 position ill comports with the passive character of 
 feeling as compared with the more active character 
 of knowing. I do not wish to deny, however, that 
 there is positive feehng which tends towards know- 
 ledge, nor that a certain cognitive value may attach 
 to feehng, although it is only too easy to overestimate 
 this value in very many cases. The esse of feeling 
 is, of course, sentire ; pure sense feels, but it does 
 nothing more, as Aristotle wrongly supposed ; but 
 
 G 
 
98 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 in knowing, there is an object, or a what that is known ; 
 and it seems a little absurd to place all " intensity " 
 of knowing in the mere feeling accompaniment, 
 which is variable and unstable. This is not to deny- 
 to feeling all character as a continuum. There seems 
 no reason, however, why feeling, in many conceivable 
 cases, should not reinforce, colour, and strengthen the 
 intellectual power, and so help heighten the cognitive 
 result. But feeling has not the strong objective 
 reference of thought. So far as feeling affects the 
 quality of knowledge, it must, I think, be held to 
 depend more on the cognitive activity than the 
 cognitive activity does upon it, though that is far 
 from being properly understood in our time. Thought 
 knows and transcends feeling, but not all feeling can 
 think, if indeed any feeling can.^ That man is wise 
 who has learned to subordinate feeling, and the more 
 so as feeling is deep and strong within him, to the 
 perceptive and judging powers. One would like to 
 know how, in the cognitive act, it is proposed so to 
 isolate feeling as to find warrant for saying that, in 
 the intellectual act, " there are no degrees of intens- 
 ity." FeeUng presupposes reason or intelhgence, and 
 is consequent on some idea, in noetic consciousness. 
 Further, in cognitive acts there is always attention 
 — a will element — and degrees of attention there cer- 
 tainly are. Attention, which is selective, is the activity 
 of the mind concentrated upon the object, and it 
 brings a higher degree of consciousness of the object. 
 But the act of the mind in knowledge is one and 
 indivisible, for the functioning of the mind is always 
 
 ^ This is said in reference to the position of certain psychologists 
 who go far towards dissolving the antithesis of thought and feeling. 
 
THE CHAEACTEE OF COGIIJ^^ITIVE ACTS 99 
 
 of the whole mind, and from the cognitive act viewed 
 in its miity, how is this will-element to be segregated 
 or extruded ? We must take the cognitive act — in 
 which will and feeling elements are present — as we 
 find it, in its wholeness and integrity, as that of a 
 complex knowing subject, and it does not appear 
 that it can be justifiably claimed for it that it has 
 "no degrees of intensity." This synthetic activity 
 of the mind is presupposed in all knowing. There 
 are " degrees of intensity " in perception — the per- 
 ceptive act can increase according to the energy of 
 the subject, both in intensity and in comprehensive- 
 ness ; and there are " degrees of intensity " in re- 
 presentation, which can become more profound in 
 the subject. These degrees or variations depend 
 upon the particular conditions, exterior and interior, 
 organic and psychic, attaching to his case. Eeflec- 
 tive activity also has its intensive advances, through 
 deepening insight into the inner connection of things. 
 Can thought or knowledge itself never become a pas- 
 sion, nor reflection ever be impassioned "i 
 
 On the view which I have been suggesting, the 
 whole truth would not be that the consciousness- 
 content alone was being enriched and increased in 
 the process. Surely the cognitive act or power shares 
 in the internal development. 'No one wiU deny it, 
 I think, who wishes to retain the high inspiration of 
 the power and the process of knowing. For a fiat 
 rate of knowing, with no " varying degrees of inten- 
 sity," does not seem to me very congruous with the 
 self-active and energetic powers of the mind. If I 
 say I have now " more knowledge " of a thing, I 
 may not be thinking of some quantitative gain, but 
 
100 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 rather of this result in relation to the cognitive acts 
 that led up to it, so that I have *' more knowledge " 
 in the qualitative sense that the thing is now better, 
 or more deeply, known by me. There are degrees 
 of knowledge in this sense, the object being in statu 
 nascendi to my developing cognition or increasing 
 acquaintance. There are endless gradations of dis- 
 tinctness and comprehension in the way things are 
 cognised by us. Iifot without reason did Sir Isaac 
 l^ewton ascribe his discoveries to always " iatending " 
 his mind. For knowledge, of any deep sort, must be 
 intensive. Knowing is one form of the life of the 
 spirit. But, with such degrees ia knowledge, it is not 
 easy to see how " degrees of intensity " in cognition 
 can be denied. Nor does it readily appear how we 
 can speak of cognitive values, if all " degrees of in- 
 tensity " are excluded from these values, or at least 
 from the framing of them. Sense-qualities are due to 
 the psychical activity of the subject. The theory of 
 cognition, as pure mirror of reality, has failed to 
 realise the subjectivity of those psychical products, 
 sense-quahties. I see no reason why sense-activity 
 should not be deemed creative in respect of the 
 secondary quahties of the object. Still less do I find 
 any reason why thought-activity should not be crea- 
 tive in variant forms. Consciousness is an activity 
 of the subject, not a mere diaphanous state. The 
 cognitive acts are not only intense ; they are creative 
 in the double sense, that by them is our individual 
 knowledge made, and by them also knowledge itself 
 is in sum created, through methodic elaboration of 
 the contents of consciousness. And I agree with 
 Bosanquet that cognition " emphatically exhibits that 
 
THE CHAEACTEE OF COGNITIVE ACTS 101 
 
 self-transcendent character of thought which con- 
 stitutes its freedom and initiative." Cognition is of 
 primary significance to thought, but is distinct from 
 thought, as Chalybaus pointed out, and others since. 
 It was Leibniz who, in the metaphysical connection, 
 said : " Our soul has the power of representing to 
 itself any form or nature, whenever the occasion comes 
 for thinking about it, and I think that this activity 
 of our soul is, so far as it expresses some nature, 
 form, or essence, properly the idea of the thing. This 
 is in us, and is always tu us, whether we are thinking 
 of it or no." But such a conception of the dynamic 
 nature or activity of knowledge is hardly conceivable 
 without " degrees of intensity " in the cognitive force. 
 The cognitive acts must be conceived under this 
 dynamic character or aspect. Such a thing as pure 
 intellective action, sensu strietOj does not exist. The 
 conscious activity of the subject, however, must be 
 thought as involving cognition, which is directive of 
 such activity. Our lives, as rational, are, in fact, 
 formed and fashioned by knowledge as dynamic. The 
 cognitive act is a prius in our psychic life ; it has 
 characters which cannot be reduced to those of any 
 other. But that does not mean that the cognitive 
 act is one of pure, transparent knowing ; if it had 
 been such, with every tincture of will and feeling 
 elements excluded, our task would have been greatly 
 simplified. But as such pure cognitive experience 
 does not exist, much of the talk of the " futile in- 
 tellectuaHsm " of the cognitive experience is itself 
 perfectly futile. And if there is to be philosophical 
 advance, it will not come through lagging behind the 
 Scholastic philosophers in appreciation of the pecuhar 
 
102 GEBAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 and unique character of the cognitive relation, while 
 avoiding any one-sided stress in their view. Very 
 significant is the way in which, when it conies to the 
 sphere of aesthetics, Schopenhauer, to whom " the 
 subject of cognition is nothing in himself," rides rough- 
 shod over his own extreme voluntaristic theory of 
 knowledge, and insists that the object can be known 
 only by " pure cognition," by " wiU-less knowledge." 
 Our cognitive acts, despite the intense modality of 
 the knowing mind, must be directed towards the 
 apprehension of things as they really are. For the 
 cognitive function leads up to rich concrete know- 
 ledge. I have already shown the mind's dependence, 
 in knowledge, upon the object, and from this initial 
 dualism of subject and object, we pass to that imme- 
 diate awareness which constitutes the basal cognitive 
 relation of epistemological monism. If we are not 
 to say that things are as they appear to us, no more 
 is any one entitled to say that things are not as they 
 appear. But this Kant dogmatically did. If there 
 is incompetence in the knowing faculty, it is thus 
 double-edged. But the ratio cognoseendi is founded, 
 in the only true fashion, on the ratio essendi, for real 
 being alone explains real knowing. It would be no 
 tenable or satisfactory position to rest in the Lotzean 
 attitude, which practically amoimts to saying that — 
 as it has been put — " we do not know that what we 
 have is not knowledge."- The primary activity of 
 the cognitive act is to make us really cognisant of 
 the being or nature of the object. The object of 
 cognition does not exist per se, but as thing-for-us. 
 Its prior existence is yet inferred. The object, it is 
 said, remains, through all our knowledge, what it was, 
 
THE CHAEACTEE OF COGNITIVE ACTS 103 
 
 its nature and existence independent of onr knowing. 
 But these we do not know save in relation to the 
 subject. And so I think this knowing things as they 
 are can only mean, as they are 'known. For it is as 
 known, not as existent, that epistemology deals with 
 the object. The concern of science, says Whitehead, 
 is with nature as known. ^ 
 
 Knowledge begins in simple apprehension of the 
 object, but it imphes and involves a great deal more, 
 for simple apprehension furnishes rather material for 
 knowledge than knowledge itself. Hence the cogni- 
 tive activity of the mind goes on to cognitive acts 
 and processes wherein discriminating and relating, 
 comparing and judging, are involved ; and acts 
 analytical and synthetic are present. For knowledge 
 is capable of high degrees of definiteness or distinct- 
 ness. The cognitive acts assume a deepening and 
 intensified character, and knowledge appears the really 
 profound thing which it is. The cognitive act is not 
 one which primarily negates, as Spinoza supposed, 
 but one which separates, and groups, and includes. 
 In perception, that most essential factor in knowledge, 
 concepts or Begrijfe arise or are contained, whether 
 put into words or not. But a complete synthesis of 
 perception and conception must be sought. Of these, 
 it is the former that connects us with reahty, and 
 not without it would cognition be attained. Percep- 
 tive activity reaches its height when, as Plato's ^ 
 " paraclete of thought," it stimulates the thought- 
 activity of the subject to see an intimate and con- 
 
 ^ Cf. my Discussion on "Sextus Empiricus and the Modern Theory 
 of Knowledge" in 'The Philosophical Review,' January 1922, p. 61. 
 2 * Rep., '523-524. 
 
104 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PROBLEMS 
 
 stant rapport in the parts, quality, energy, force, and 
 function, of which the object is made up, and dis- 
 tinguishes, further, temporary or accidental conditions 
 extrinsic to it, besides its relations to other objects 
 and their serial relations. But all this involves atten- 
 tion to attributes or features common to different 
 objects, and hkewise comparison, and discernment of 
 likenesses and differences in the objects. And the 
 process of generalisation naturally foUows. From all 
 this, we see what a synthetic concept knowing is. 
 Judgment is the type of perfect knowledge. But not 
 abstract judgment, which is not cognition. The in- 
 tellectual character of these cognitive acts is surely 
 obvious enough, as compared with wiU and feeling 
 influences. '' Thought," says Kant, " is cognition 
 by means of conceptions,'' But of knowledge itself, 
 barring introspective processes, the most essential 
 feature remains its objective bearing or import. The 
 object is then the main thing, and of it there must 
 be direct cognition, although we are now considering 
 the cognitive acts. Hence epistemology deals with 
 the material principles of knowledge, as logic does 
 with its formal principles. But in considering the 
 objective import of knowledge, one must not forget 
 the indispensable knower, for such objective cogni- 
 tion does not resolve the whole problem. That is the 
 mistake of Hegelian thought in this connection. It 
 dealt with knowledge in a too wholesale fashion, and 
 with too great disregard of psychological factors. 
 Knowing mind is, no doubt, for it primal reality, and 
 that reahty is interpreted in terms of cognitive pro- 
 cesses. But it is knowledge, simply as knowledge, 
 that is emphasised ; the knower is neglected ; hence 
 
THE CHAEACTEE OF COGNITIVE ACTS 105 
 
 his cognitive acts cannot have satisfactory treatment. 
 Epistemology is swallowed up of ontology or meta- 
 physics. Yet with what rare delicacy Hegel can on 
 occasion do this, as when, for example, he says that 
 " not the breaking of the beam of light, but the beam 
 of ligJit itself, by which truth touches us, is know- 
 ledge." But, after aU, knowledge is an individual 
 thing, among other individual things. The whole 
 world-process consists of things passing into one an- 
 other. Whether I feel a lump of ice, or see a walnut- 
 tree, or construct a Weltanschauung, my knowledge is 
 in each case an attribute of me as individual — a 
 particular knower. You cannot, therefore, properly 
 treat cognitive acts by simply taking knowledge as 
 knowledge, without doing full justice to the knower, 
 whose acts they are, distinct from those of all other 
 individuals. But the subject is not exhausted in the 
 cognitive rapport with the object, any more than the 
 object is exhaustively known by the subject. Other 
 thinkers there have been who have not done justice 
 to the cognitive acts, but treated them as perfectly 
 abstract moments in a purely phenomenal process. 
 Avenarius is one of these ; no acts are in general, 
 for him, necessary to obtain contents and objects. 
 The quality of the content is not for him determined 
 by the quality of the act. This is in keeping with the 
 epistemologico-biological tendency of his so-called 
 " pure experience," with all associated ideas removed. 
 Though he rendered good service in criticising what 
 he termed the fallacy of introjection, this did not 
 keep him from his own fallacious assumption that 
 nothing exists save experience. Only through ex- 
 perience, he held, can we know that anything exists. 
 
106 GREAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 We have seen how the cognitive acts are directed 
 towards objects that are knowable, and become known. 
 It is the capacity for knowing, on the part of the 
 subject, that effects the passage or transformation 
 from the knowable to the known. Although there is 
 a representation of the object to the subject, and a 
 judgment by the subject, yet the cognition is distinct 
 from the object, and the reality of the former is to be 
 maintained. And we have seen that the object, in 
 its externality and even opposition, is yet, as Hegel 
 said, *' an other which is not another," since subject 
 and object are destined to be locked together in that 
 union which is knowledge. In trying to explicate 
 the character of the cognitive acts, there is always 
 the difficulty that one feels what primitive, irreducible 
 facts they appear to be. But they appear more 
 natural and intelligible, I think, when it is considered 
 how, in their intellectual character, they mediate 
 that complex of agreements with reahty which con- 
 stitutes for us the immanent rationaUty of the world. 
 We have seen that, among the alternatives, the sub- 
 ject may be swallowed up by the object ; or the object 
 may disappear in the subject and its creative activity ; 
 or, best unity of all, the subject and the object are 
 each relative to the other, and only their unity is 
 perfect. This unity is given in that fuU conscious- 
 ness, wherein the object is one with the subject, who 
 finds himself in the object. Among the things we 
 have seen as to the character of the cognitive acts 
 are : the senses in which they are unifying, active, 
 immanent, intellective, individual, and inward ; the 
 senses in which they are subjective in character, 
 intentional or objective in reference, relational, causal, 
 
THE CHAEACTEE OP COGNITIVE ACTS 107 
 
 constitutive, constructive, spontaneous ; and the 
 senses in which they are objectively determined, im- 
 perfect or incomplete, distinctive, progressive, in- 
 divisible, intensive, creative, analytic, synthetic. This 
 seems a tolerably diversified characterisation of them, 
 and the unsatisfactory dealings with cognitive acts 
 in great systems have been illustrated by references 
 to Spinoza, Kant, Hegel, Lotze, Schopenhauer, and 
 Avenarius. It is not, in the cognitive acts, a ques- 
 tion merely of what is taken up into consciousness, 
 but of how it is taken up, for, as Husserl has remarked, 
 there are real specific differences of the intentional 
 relation ; and who, one may ask, could possibly make 
 count and reckoning of all the variant modes and 
 degrees in which we can think the object f There 
 are, in this connection, relations which are qualita- 
 tive, extensive, intensive, and protensive, and this 
 alone were enough to show the greatness of the problem 
 of the character of the cognitive acts. And though it 
 is with these great, significant acts in themselves we 
 have been concerned, yet the epistemological dis- 
 cussion cannot hide from us their far-reaching results 
 or consequences, since it is through them that the 
 infinitely varied and self-manifesting world of reaUty 
 is swept into the ken of our cognitive faculty and 
 experience. The cognitive acts are the key that un- 
 locks for us the hoards of the universe. 
 
108 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 RATIONALISM AND VOLUNTAEISM. 
 
 It may be of interest to consider some of the relative 
 claims of rationalism and voluntarism, that real and 
 expUcit antithesis of recent times, whether we regard 
 either theory in full or extreme form as satisfactory 
 or not. ^Neither of them is, in fact, satisfactory in 
 any absolute or exclusive sense. Their consideration 
 is the more necessary as extreme forms of volim- 
 tarism are by no means rare in the thought of to-day. 
 There is no need in doing so, to forget that, in every 
 psychosis, there will be elements or rudiments of 
 feehng, willing, and thinking, though one of these 
 may have a dominating influence. Eationalism stands 
 for thinking, as the great form or mode of realising 
 conscious content. That is to say, the essential 
 activity of mental life is for it thought or ideation. 
 Eationalism is concerned with logical priority rather 
 than with the question of genesis, hence it here stands 
 aside from psychology — though I do not mean to 
 leave it untouched — which is concerned with genetic 
 order. The logical priority of thought — thought- 
 activity as the absolute prius of the world — is the 
 maiatenance of rationahsm. For in no other way 
 
EATIOlirALISM AI^D VOLUNTAEI8M 109 
 
 can you get the world as a world of meaning. Neither 
 blind feeling nor blind will can yield such. But 
 thought, standing by itself, does not suffice to create 
 a world. 
 
 Pure thought needs the supplementing of will. 
 That is the defect of rationalism. Will is the peculiar 
 mark of human movement. Of the two terms of 
 voluntaristic activity, it is the internal term which 
 alters the external one. This is contrastive to what 
 happens in perceptive activity, where the external 
 term takes precedence of the other, or internal one. 
 Will is not moved by reason alone, thought Hume, 
 for he subjects reason to the feeUngs, as some still 
 do. His stress on passion fails of justice to reason. 
 A further defect or mistake of rationaUsm has been 
 to undervalue the senses. But experience is too 
 exigent for the tendency to neglect or underrate the 
 senses to be wise. The part played by sense in ex- 
 perience-pr,ocesses. is too important to be overlooked 
 without impoverishment. Thought can come to its 
 own without countenancing this mistaken tendency. 
 Eationalism has, besides, too often been lacking in 
 the historic sense, in religious inwardness, and in 
 scientific strength. Thought, as we know it, never 
 does exist severed or divorced from feeling and will. 
 That is not to say that thought or reason may not 
 have a dominance, a logical priority, a primacy of 
 rank. That is quite another matter from time priority. 
 The time primacy claimed for feeling by some psy- 
 chologists is denied by rationalism in respect of any 
 feeling-consciousness taken as pure or wholly without 
 rudimentary representation, real however latent. Ee- 
 presentation in some sort must be taken to precede 
 
110 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 feeling — feeling, that is to say, as accompanying sen- 
 sation. 
 
 But, if we distinguish these two, I should take 
 feehng as purely subjective, and sensation as carry- 
 ing an objective reference or element. This, although 
 certain German philosophers hold all sensations of 
 subjective origin. The unity of sensation, for Eos- 
 mini, was intelligence. Not much help is vouchsafed 
 by Holding's rather vague definition of feeling as 
 " an inner illumination which falls on the stream of 
 sensations and ideas." But I am not inclined to deny 
 Hoffding's position that primitive feeUng is already 
 given, before sensation and idea exert their influence. 
 Feeling is often regarded or treated only as it springs 
 from the stimuli in sensational experience. Thought 
 supervenes on such sensation ; and in this usage of 
 feeling, my next remark holds good of it ; feeling 
 wholly without presentation or idea must be valueless 
 for action. That is not to deny the dominance of 
 feeling that may exist in certain cases or stages. But 
 that is not the case where reflection is developed, for 
 there the idea or the presentational element is supreme. 
 " In tal modo," says an Italian writer, " Fattivitit del 
 sentire progredisce daU' interno aU' esterno." ^ For our 
 knowledge of the external world, sensations are to 
 be followed, not despised. And the " external " and 
 the " internal " sensations — as Italian psychologists 
 call them — should be carefully distinguished, and 
 passive sensation, active sensation, and perception, 
 should be taken as making up the first order of 
 psychic activity. But reason is the organ for the 
 supreme discovery of truth, as we shall presently see. 
 
 1 N. R. D' Alfonso, ' Piccola Psioologia,' p. 30. 
 
EATIONALISM AND VOLUNTAEIRM 111 
 
 Voluntarism stands for the primacy of will or some 
 form or mode of effort-consciousness. It takes will 
 to be the source and the sustaining power of mental 
 life. It may be blind will or impulse, as in Schopen- 
 hauer ; it may take the form of impulse and idea in 
 synthesis as exemplified in Lotze and in Wundt, 
 although Lotze may be held to recognise too much 
 more than one fundamental mind-function for a real 
 voluntarist ; or it may begin with the idea, but hold, 
 as in Eoyce, that the idea appears in consciousness 
 as an act of will. Touching what has just been said 
 of Lotze, it is he who has said, for example, that all 
 the acts of daily life never demand " a distinct im- 
 pulse of the will," but are " adequately brought 
 about by the pure flux of thought." Lotze veers, 
 indeed, from a rationahstic mode of thought toward 
 positivist tendency or direction. On genetic grounds, 
 of course, voluntarism will have much to say for 
 itself — hence Paulsen and Wundt have striven to set 
 it upon a psychological basis — since, in the matter 
 of time, early or rudimentary forms of consciousness 
 will be largely bUnd or impulsive in nature. Paulsen 
 accordingly makes impulse the basal function of the 
 inner hfe. More generally, I may remark the very 
 unscientific and unwarranted tendency of voluntaristic 
 psychology to found itself on " conation " iu ways 
 whereby that term has been stretched far beyond 
 anything consciousness can sanction as processes reaUy 
 volitional in character. 
 
 But the weakness of voluntarism lies iu the fact 
 that not even the earliest forms of Trieb^ impulse, or 
 feehng-wiU, can be admitted to be without germinal 
 representation or rudimentary thought. We must 
 
112 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 think of some undifferentiated whole, out of which 
 the various mental powers, or characteristics, evolve, 
 instead of assuming will as the base of a gradual 
 intelligence. We must take account of the progres- 
 sive embodiment of reason to be found in all sentient 
 life. We must hold to internal structure in such wise 
 that the psychosis is not the absolutely simple thing 
 it is sometimes supposed to be. Einet has declared 
 that psychic manifestations are much more complex 
 than is supposed, even in the lowest scales of animal 
 life. It is a weak and inconclusive argument that, 
 because, in man's early development, knowledge had 
 to be largely of the nature of virtual action, it cannot 
 have overpassed this character in his developed stage. 
 But that is just what it has done, and reason, calm, 
 directive, disinterested, seeking knowledge for its own 
 sake, has assumed the primacy in rank which by its 
 nature belongs to it. Schopenhauer sets his world 
 of feeling-will over against reason or thought, but his 
 Trieb or impulse is not reaUy will in any proper or 
 developed sense, and is not exclusive of feehng. In 
 fact, the ground of life, which Schopenhauer chose to 
 caU the will in all things, was in reahty somethiug 
 psychologically so chaotic, that no world could have 
 come of it that was not irrational and meantugless. 
 Metzsche made voluntarism the underlying moment 
 of his psychology of religion. For a central experience 
 of will is what he always seeks, as affording a measure 
 in the direction of religious metaphysic.^ But of the 
 will-theories of Schopenhauer and ^Nietzsche, it is to 
 be said that the will, properly conceived, never acts 
 
 * On Nietzsche's varying notions of will, see W. M. Salter's 
 • Nietzsche the Thinker,' p. 498. 
 
EATIONALISM AND VOLimTAETSM 113 
 
 blindly or without reason, which latter is, in fact, the 
 determining factor of mental life, since it enlightens 
 and directs the activity of the will. 
 
 The world of appetitions, to which, since the time 
 of Leibniz, the term will has, in inexact and even 
 mythological fashion, been applied, does not con- 
 stitute the realm of will at aU. For, obviously, there 
 can be no proper willing without an idea of something 
 that is willed. The qualitative constancy which 
 Wundt has sought in the will — as compared with ideas 
 and with feeling — is too abstract and mythical an 
 affair to be psychologically satisfactory. The fault 
 of a radical voluntarism, like that of Fichte, is that 
 in it pure will regards itself as an end, and wiUs merely 
 for the sake of willing. It is, for it, not a case of 
 objects, but of willing itself — absolute will, cloaked 
 as a natural impulse to independence. " Jedes ist 
 ein erstes und absolutes." Clumsy and confused is 
 the way in which Fichte teUs us that " reason is 
 reason," and in the same breath insists that "the 
 will is the living principle of reason — is itseK reason." 
 The truth is, reason or thought is by him subordinated 
 to will or our striving energies, in unwarrantable 
 voluntaristic fashion : will is made antecedent to 
 knowledge. But this idea of absolute will is unsatis- 
 factory, in that it only too easily becomes a detached 
 and unrealised ideal, arbitrarily viewing everything 
 as a mere expression of its wiU. It is a case of the 
 transcendentahsm of will overleaping itself, and vault- 
 ing the heavens. The foregoing criticism applies 
 equally to a recent philosopher who has said — '' WiQ 
 is not subsequent to, or consequent on, reason. It 
 is itself root of reason. As WiU, it wills Will." This 
 
 n 
 
114 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 writer, like Fichte, exalts reason in the finest manner, 
 and then goes on, without any sense of absurdity, to 
 reduce reason to the same abject subservience to will. 
 This brings us to note the absurdity of voluntarism 
 in taking, as the chief characteristic of life's mental 
 powers, something which is found in complete abey- 
 ance as life reaches its highest. For in hours of pure 
 thought, or in seasons of calm aesthetic contempla- 
 tion, it cannot be ignored how disinterested is thought, 
 nor can it be pretended that anything like actual or 
 conscious willing is anything but absent, in both 
 cases. This is all that is then evidenced of Eoyce's 
 rather irrelevant saying that " our will is always 
 dramatic in its expressions." ^ Yet voluntarism thinks 
 it congruous to make this sleeping partner figure as 
 the most distinctive, and indeed the all-devourtag 
 factor in our mental life. It is extreme, and straining 
 experience, to say of such times, like Hoffding, that 
 " we must vdll to see, in order to see aright." That, 
 of course, is not meant to imply that will is not 
 present. 
 
 What Eoyce calls his " absolute voluntarism " 
 begins with the idea, but immediately asserts that 
 the idea appears in consciousness as an act of will. 
 This seems a somewhat hasty and violent psycho- 
 logical treatment of the idea, almost reminding one 
 of Condillac's, when he made the idea a sensation 
 representative of something, in spite of their differ- 
 ence being one of kind : my ideas, as ideas, are ideas, 
 and not just anything else you please. It might 
 surely have sufficed to make ideas also aims and 
 ideals : they are not yet acts of will. But that would 
 
 1 ' The Problem of Christianity,' vol. ii. p. 297. 
 
EATIONALISM AND VOLUNTAEISM 115 
 
 not satisfy Eoyce's mystical pan-egoistic epistemology, 
 and so his rather chaotic voluntaristic psychology 
 declares that " the idea is a will seeking its own 
 determination." " Ideas are thinkable but absolutely 
 unknowable," a writer has said, in the sense of know- 
 ledge as ordinarily understood. Eosmini, on the other 
 hand, says that " idea, as such, is object, distinct 
 from the thinking subject, and opposed to it." Erd- 
 mann also makes more of ideas, regarding the idea as 
 " self -end," and speaking of " the immediacy or being 
 of the idea," And " every idea," said Eosmini (in 
 his work ' On the Origin of Ideas '), "is universal and 
 necessary." In another connection, Eoyce has said, 
 less objectionably, that " the motives of an idea are 
 practical, and the constituents of an idea are either 
 the data of perception, or the conceptual processes 
 whereby we characterise or predict or pursue such 
 data." ^ The ideas appear to me to be really, at 
 most, " proposals for volition," as the case has been 
 put, and the idea must be selected, as Bradley says, 
 by something which is not an idea ; they may thus 
 become idea-forces, as Fouill^e termed them ; but 
 the primacy of the idea is not to be obscured or lost 
 sight of, even though its intellectual functioning is 
 not to be disjoined from the volitional and emotional 
 activities which it mediates and determines. The 
 dominance of the idea in consciousness is the primary 
 fact with which we are here concerned, and one which 
 cannot be filched away by voluntaristic violence. 
 This primacy can be maintained without giving the 
 intellectual ideas or terms any too abstract air or 
 character. The idea is something unique : it is in 
 
 1 'The Problem of Christianity,' vol. ii. pp. 181, 182. 
 
116 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 and by the knowing mind ; it has a meaning of its 
 own ; and it bears the character of self -reference. 
 Yet the ideas are, in a careful and significant sense, 
 "likenesses of things " (Aristotle). But let the idea 
 vanish, and what will become of motive-feehng and 
 volitional impulse *? The particularity of sensation, 
 and the universality of the idea, need not be forgotten. 
 Even in stages where, psychologists say, sensation 
 dominates, it might be worthy of better remembrance 
 that we become aware of the presence of a sensation 
 only through thinking. iTot sensations, but our 
 thought of them, is what differentiates us from the 
 animal creation. Sensation is concrete and particu- 
 lar, while thought always carries an element of uni- 
 versahty. Where there are sensations, there, said 
 Eosmini, the primitive synthesis is made by the mind 
 in a spontaneous manner. And (in his work on 
 ' Logic ') Eosmini differentiated intelligence from sen- 
 sation in a meritorious manner. " No other faculty," 
 said he, " except the understanding, has for its term 
 an dbjecV This last is intuited, but, to know this, 
 he maintains, there must be an act of reflection upon 
 the intuition. Therein the understanding is different 
 from the feeling. For "the felt is not object but 
 simple term, and the faculty of feeling has not the 
 essential 'property of the faculty of understanding." 
 Eosmini thus avoids the confusions as to sense which 
 marked Aristotle, Kant, and others of more recent 
 date. But, on the other hand, I think he does not 
 always discriminate enough in his use of the terms 
 feeling and sensation. FeeUng, as Eosmini insists, 
 is made up of that which feels and of that which is 
 felt, and intellective perception is not to be con- 
 
BATIONALISM AND VOLUNTAEISM 117 
 
 founded with feeling, since feeling in this sense must 
 " precede the act of tJiought which observes it." It 
 is not to be forgotten that, as Stout is pleased to put 
 the matter, sensation is said to exist in, as well as 
 for, the mind, although this requires some further 
 explication to render it quite satisfactory.^ We must 
 at any rate remember what Eosmini emphasised, that 
 sensation is in the strictest sense particular, and that 
 to speak of a sensation being transformed into an 
 idea would be quite absurd. 
 
 Eeason remains a power perceptive, regulative, 
 dynamical — ^the concrete unity of our organised mental 
 energy. It is by virtue of this dynamic reason that 
 we act in freedom. Freedom is a necessity of the 
 purpose-positiag activity of intelligence. That means 
 the freedom of the reasonable will, not the bUnd 
 voluntaristic wiU that treats reason as its bond- 
 servant. The reasonable will rules the feeUng-life 
 and the impulse-Ufe in the quest of its concrete ideal. 
 We must hold reason to be the supreme power in 
 spmt, and the ultimate ground of the world's order. 
 Not even the appeal of Eousseau to inward feeling 
 or sentiment was free of considerable elements of 
 ratiociaation. True, in his unsystematic way, he 
 could say that ideas came from without, and that 
 sentioaents sprang up within the soul. But he did 
 not completely disjoin them, there being, in his view, 
 senses in which "ideas are sentiments, and senti- 
 ments are ideas." But he sometimes joined the senti- 
 ments to reason, treating them as its necessary com- 
 pletion. For, with aU his insistence upon the " heart," 
 he uses sentiment in a way which does not always 
 
 1 ' Manual of Psychology,' p. 209. 
 
118 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 exclude cognitive elements. Still, there is in Eousseau 
 the tendency to make the sentimental outweigh the 
 rational, although it cannot be said that the senti- 
 mental was, in him, void of reference to reason, or 
 always destitute of theoretic thought. The import- 
 ance of feeling, however, is not to be underestimated, 
 since it reflects the ethical quahty of the person or 
 represents the personality in its immediate self-con- 
 sciousness. Eibot has represented a revolt against 
 intellectuahst theory here, freeing feeling from de- 
 pendence on presentation, and treating it as an original 
 state, and it may be allowed that the intellectualist 
 theory was often unduly pressed. At the same time 
 Hoffding is right in holding that cognitive elements 
 are already present, and do not simply arise out of 
 formless and primitive feeling, as is seen in the early 
 calling forth of memory in connection with early 
 pleasure and pain experiences. 
 
 Hume had already given high place to feeling or 
 passion, for what was taken to be the determination 
 of the will by reason, Hume regarded as really its 
 determination by calmer or more tranquil feelings. 
 His rejection of the primacy of will was, of course, 
 unsatisfactory, being in favour of a species of impres- 
 sion : reason was by him made subject to the feel- 
 ings. Dr Bradley does vastly better in rejecting " in 
 any form the primacy of will." ^ He rightly con- 
 tends that "bare will is no will," and that "will 
 involves not only perception but also idea," which 
 he finds " hard to reconcile with a secondary position 
 of intelligence." But no one has laid it down more 
 explicitly than Aquinas that there is no will without 
 
 1 'Essays on Truth and Reality,' p. 96. 
 
EATIONALISM AND VOLUNTAEISM 119 
 
 reason or intellect — intellectus is necessary to voluntas. 
 " Eminentior," " altior," and "nobilior," are the 
 terms in which he expresses the superiority of intellect 
 to will. The act of will, in his view, is an incUnation 
 which follows the intellect : " actus voluntatis nihil 
 ahud est, quam inchnatio quaedana consequens for- 
 mam inteUectam." ^ Aquinas also holds that nothing 
 can be willed in actu which is not known. I have 
 myself not only opposed voluntarism and taken 
 reasonable will to be the only true idea of will, but 
 have shown the straits of voluntarism, and its baleful 
 influences in recent philosophical thought and phil- 
 osophy of religion. 2 In this I have ranged myself, 
 but on independent grounds, with Meumann and 
 other Continental thinkers who stand for the primacy 
 of intelligence. An aU-controUing wiU, at whose 
 demand alone all reason, no less than all value, can 
 have any being, in the manner there shown, can 
 only yield a very bald and unsatisfying psychology, 
 one which is utterly impotent to do any manner of 
 justice to reason. In taking reasonable wiU — will 
 enlightened by prevenient reason — to be the only 
 true idea of will, I hold, like Bradley, idea to be 
 essential to will. I take, equally with him, the notion 
 of the idea being often the creature of a blind impulse 
 to be quite inconclusive.^ For impulse without con- 
 sciousness of end is not will in any proper sense. If 
 there has been no suggestion of idea, there has been 
 no real wiUing. Dr Bradley even speaks of the 
 " monarchy " of the idea, and of the " single idea," 
 
 1 'Summa,' 1.87, 4. 
 
 ^ See my ' Philosophical System of Theistic Idealism,' in loco. 
 
 3 'Mind/ 1902, p. 462. 
 
120 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 all other ideas present in the volitional process being, 
 in his view, subordinate or contributory to the*" total 
 idea." I should prefer to think more of the primacy 
 of reason than of idea, taking the process to be more 
 concrete, as a unity of reason. Eeason views aU in 
 the unity of the idea, and it effects the needful fusion 
 of ideas. Bradley's stress on one idea seems to me 
 apt to make the volitional process appear rather thin 
 and bald for all the facts. Even if we take volition 
 to be " the self-realisation of an idea with which the 
 self is identified," such self -identification must be 
 taken to imply that the voUtion is the act of my 
 concrete self, in which the idea reigns. But it might 
 be objected that ideas do not — in the modifying 
 light of evolution — dominate and function iq us in 
 the detached and isolated manner which Bradley is 
 apt to represent. They are set iq the reason, which 
 is a representative of the world-reason, and it is of a 
 unity or totality of reason we have first of all to think. 
 It is, however, desirable that the idea, as a psychical 
 existent, should be as clear and distinct as possible. 
 But stress on the willing must not be obscured. *' In 
 the end," says Bradley, " my union with the idea 
 must remain essentially a felt union." ^ And again, 
 " voUtion is the identification of my felt self with the 
 idea." ^ But this seems to me rather artificial, and 
 separates the idea too much from the self, for the idea 
 is already my idea ; reason in me is a unified force, 
 which goes out from the unity of the idea, and forms 
 the totahty of the idea of which Bradley speaks. 
 Eeason is the " I " itself iadeed, which proves itself 
 reasonable in the process, as the idea is taken up as a 
 
 1 'Mind/ 1903, p. 152. ' Ibid., p. 161. 
 
EATIOI^ALISM AND VOLUIvrTAEISM 121 
 
 willing. Bradley denies that " desire and conation 
 are to be found in all cases of will," and says that to 
 make them the " bridge " in volition would be " ab- 
 surdly deficient." ^ On both points I agree with him. 
 Blind conations are not volition ; mere desire is not 
 will. He therefore abides by the view that will is 
 not " original or ultimate," since the passage of an 
 idea into existence is, for him, the essence of will. 
 Varisco, too, holds it " essential to will " that it be 
 " enlightened by cognition," and be " altogether one 
 with cognition," but his attitude is less clear-cut and 
 defined. There is, in my view, a lordship of reason 
 in the entire process which leads to harmony, for the 
 resultant whole is the unity of intelligence and will 
 in the human consciousness. The impulse of reason 
 towards unity is not satisfied untU such unity is 
 achieved. The content of reason is the ideal, the 
 necessary, the universally vaUd. But the universality, 
 Eosmini clearly laid down, is of the mind or the 
 intelligence, and not in things or sensations ; we may 
 not even speak, sensu stricto, of a universal idea, for 
 not in their content, but in their applicability, are 
 ideas universal. Ideas are singulars ; the qualities 
 that belong to universaUty are given them by mind. 
 
 Thought has none of the particularisation of sensa- 
 tion : to think is to universalise. The idea is all- 
 important to Eosmini, for it is the light of the mind, 
 however impossible that it should be defined. It will 
 be seen that I take reason or intelligence to precede 
 and determine the will, and the psychical activity 
 involved to be fundamentally real ; the time relations 
 connected therewith do not prevent or disturb me, 
 
 1 * Mind/ 1904, pp. 20, 21, 
 
122 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 for though time in some aspects and relations is real, 
 it is not ultimate, nor regnant in the realm of spirit. 
 Thus I do not regard all inner psychic activity as in 
 the end will-activity, for there are many psychic 
 occurrences outside will-activity. I reject bare will, 
 in all its arbitrariness, as the ultimate source, while 
 not denying, of course, how wiU-activity sticks fast 
 in all thought. I am, of course, aware how it has 
 been attempted to justify the statement that aU 
 psychic activity is will-activity, by seeking to dis- 
 tinguish an empirical-psychological voluntarism from 
 a metaphysical voluntarism, the latter partaking of 
 the universal character of metaphysic. But I am 
 here only incidentally concerned with empiric volun- 
 tarism, in which will is made to include or swaUow up 
 feelings and sensations, and impulses are taken as 
 lower forms of will, and even made at times to figure 
 as if they were pure wiU. But even when the dis- 
 tinction just made is observed, it does not follow that 
 the empirical-psychological account of the develop- 
 ment is never overweighted in its stress on wiQ, when 
 ideas or representations and feelings are all taken to 
 be developed therefrom. I am myself sceptical of 
 this accoimt of the development, both as to its doing 
 preludial justice to the representation or reason- 
 elements ixx the process, and still more as to its being 
 a satisfactory account of the relations found to exist 
 between developed intelligence and developed will. 
 It is only by abstraction that we can determine or 
 fix upon the part played by all the individual psychic 
 elements or factors in the process, and though the 
 phenomena of will lend themselves most easily to 
 observation, it does not follow that justice has always 
 
EATIOliJ^ALISM AND VOLUNTAEISM 123 
 
 been done to the potency of rational and feeling ele- 
 ments or moments likewise. I do not admit will, 
 in its active efBciency, to be anything else than 
 bound, in certain fundamental ways or principles, 
 to representation and thought connections, and the 
 question is, whether this, the more difficult and re- 
 condite part of the process, has been satisfactorily 
 performed. I do not think it has. Will, of course, 
 has had its development, just like every other psychic 
 function, and besides will, there is at least always 
 representation, if arbitrariness is to be shunned. For 
 there is no pure activity, but only such as has been 
 qualitatively determined by representation or con- 
 tent. The element of knowledge is an inseparable 
 moment in consciousness, and it is not derivable 
 from will. Not even the representations should be 
 derived from will, when sensations and feelings are 
 also present. 
 
 Wundt's theory of " idea-object," as original datum 
 of thought, might surely have led to more satisfactory 
 issue touching the ideating forces. It seems to me 
 not without arbitrariness that Wundt makes the will 
 a standing element in knowledge in the way he has 
 done, and treats the representations as accidental or 
 contingent. His qualitatively constant will is an 
 untenable conception, and the standing thing is the 
 self -identical subject, to whom the will belongs. 
 Activity has no content save as belonging to such 
 a concrete subject, of whom it is a manifestation. 
 Talk of complexes and totalities of psychic elements 
 is vain without this being recognised. Nor do I think 
 it admissible — because arbitrary and not true to ex- 
 perience — ^to regard the manifoldness of the repre- 
 
124 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PROBLEMS 
 
 sentations found in experience, as bound into a unity- 
 only through will. This seems to me to indicate 
 some failure to appreciate or realise the unifying force 
 or activity in reason, which does not stand idly by wiU. 
 
 If will is never bare will, never mere activity, but 
 always representing activity, there appears to me no 
 adequate ground for blindly quenching or ignoring 
 any rational elements involved — ^the unifying power or 
 activity of reason — in order to hypostatise will alone. 
 Intellectual elements are already present with the 
 representations ; thought begins only with these last, 
 not yet with concepts, which arise out of them ; in 
 the original perceptions thought has already foimd 
 the conditions for its exercise. But I had not meant 
 to do more than make passing reference to empirical- 
 psychological aspects. We must not forget that hypo- 
 thetical metaphysical conceptions or ground prin- 
 ciples must not be applied to, or exchanged with, 
 empirical-psychological abstractions, in the treatment 
 of reahty. 
 
 But empirical-psychological treatment is not there- 
 fore final, or above the need of criticism, Eor the 
 present it must suffice to remark that the empirical 
 is only a segment, and therefore cannot give us 
 adequate metaphysical knowledge. Metaphysical vol- 
 untarism, however, is my main present concern. 
 Analysis of the concepts of the understanding and 
 inquiry into the transcendent ideas, are a special care 
 of metaphysics, whose fundamental principles are 
 immanent in the impulse of human reason to know- 
 ledge. Pure will is to Wundt the end of the psycho- 
 logical regress, but pure will is merely an abstraction 
 of metaphysical value in bringing into clear view the 
 
EATIO:rsrALISM AND VOLUNTABISM 125 
 
 essence of absolute being. To make, in the Wundtian 
 style, the " inner impulses " the source of all need 
 for thought is no satisfactory theory of our mental 
 life or personality ; nor do we recognise as will what 
 acts bUndly, without reason, or motives, or reflection. 
 
 On the other hand, the rationahsm which we oppose 
 to one-sided voluntarism is not one in which there is 
 a mere ens rationis, but a subject with the characters 
 of concreteness and individuahty. The subject must 
 have a content, original and individual, and not in- 
 dependently of external relations, the external world 
 being its necessary correlative ; as Wundt says, " a 
 consciousness without objects is an empty abstrac- 
 tion." When the voluntarist tells us the many mighty 
 things wrought by will, he is apt to forget that will 
 essentially implies co-operation of the individual and 
 concrete subject, whereas reason can be conceived 
 without such subjective reference, as capable of being 
 embodied, objectively and universally, in laws or in 
 relational systems standing by themselves.^ It is not 
 surprising that Mr A. F. Shand should say that " the 
 profoundest introspection will not show us the uni- 
 versal character of will." ^ But the varied and 
 different types of will need not keep us, for aU that, 
 from saying with Ladd that " wilUng is of essentially 
 one kind." ^ 
 
 To treat of synthesis without an individuality, of 
 spontaneity without an individual subject, in Wundt's 
 fashion, can never be satisfactory in result. The 
 psychic elements and functions owe their efficacy and 
 
 ^ Of. F. de Sarlo, ' II Concetto dell' Anima nella Peicologia Con- 
 temporanea/ pp. 33-34. 
 
 2 ' Mind,' 1897, p. 325. ^ ' Phil, of Knowledge,' p. 190. 
 
126 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLBMS 
 
 worth to their seat in the real subject, however we 
 may try to abstract them for supposedly scientific 
 purposes. There is no very convincing reason why 
 the treatment should deprive itself of concreteness 
 and lucidity, by trying to dispense with, or ignore, 
 a real subject. Of course, the procedure is inteUigible 
 enough, in its desire to avoid older modes of thought 
 in which the soul or subject was viewed too sub- 
 stantially rather than potentially, too much as some- 
 thing given rather than something formed, but the 
 avoidance of wrong ways of regarding the subject 
 does not necessitate vain attempts to eliminate an 
 abiding, seK-identical subject as persistiag through 
 experience. The facts of unity, coherence, continuity, 
 identity, and evolution, in mental life or personahty, 
 are, otherwise, not adequately covered or dealt with. 
 The psychic acts or facts by which we live are not 
 so sufficient unto themselves as Wundt would make 
 it appear, and the reduction of everything to wiH- 
 activity is far from satisfying. 
 
 Dr Stout has made the significant admission that 
 it is " the cognitive side of our character which gives 
 determinate character to the conative." But what 
 we have already seen of the attempt to set out the 
 psychological origin, nature, and growth, of this cog- 
 nitive side, has been by no means promisiag or satis- 
 factory, for it has been mainly in terms of that which 
 is not cognition. In the end we are driven pretty 
 much to let cognition certify itself. !N"ot even Wundt's 
 position that the active mental representation or 
 Vorstellung is originally identical with the object can 
 be sustained. Cognition would be defeated by the ob- 
 ject being so identified with the representiog subject. 
 
EATIONALISM AND VOLUNTAEISM 127 
 
 Wundt says thinking is willing, and so distinguished 
 a thinker as Ladd remarks that this is " admirably " 
 said. But is it so admirable ? If the thinking is not 
 a willing per se, it seems to me only a needless con- 
 fusion. One does not deny the presence of a will- 
 element in thinking, but the thinking is still thinking, 
 and is not, so far as it is thought, to be called willing 
 without a misuse of language. At least I am rational- 
 ist enough to think so. I am not unmindful, in saying 
 this, that Bradley has said, properly enough, that will 
 and thought are implicated the one with the other ; ^ 
 but he has also said, less desirably, that '' the same 
 psychical state is indifferently will or thought, accord- 
 ing to the side from which you view it." ^ Surely the 
 facts can have justice done to them without counte- 
 nancing so many terminological inexactitudes of this 
 sort in psychology as a " science." In no other 
 " science " are clearness and distinction at such a 
 discount. Some exception may even be taken to 
 HegeVs position that will is only thought or intelli- 
 gence translating itself into existence, on the ground 
 that it overlooks the fact that knowledge is an act, 
 and must be willed. If his theory were true, the 
 entrance of the irrational woidd not be easily ac- 
 counted for. 
 
 The dependence of will on thought or idea, and the 
 dependence of thought on will, can surely be recog- 
 nised without blindly identifying them. It is only 
 " to a certain extent," says Bradley, they are essen- 
 tially one, but they are " not two clear functions in 
 unity," which may be granted ; but, granting this 
 partial fusion or identity, their divergence is the thing 
 
 ^ 'Appearance and Reality,' p. 474. ^ Ibij.^ p^ 463, 
 
128 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 that waits for explanation. This Dr Bradley does 
 not attempt, but is content to urge that neither 
 thought nor will is primary and ultimate. What he 
 fails to bring out is the unity of human personality, 
 the unity of consciousness, in which feeling, thinking, 
 and willing are three sufficiently fundamental modes 
 of expression. Ideation may be a process given to 
 consciousness, and thinking a more self-conscious and 
 selective affair, but, though there may be a teleology 
 of thinking, and though will may enter as a moment 
 in the thinking process, yet thinking is stiU distinc- 
 tively of the nature of thinking, and not willing or 
 anything else. 
 
 There need be no failure to appreciate the part 
 played by the wiU-element in thinking, which is a 
 discriminating and relating activity, in so maintaining 
 the distinctively rational character of the thinking 
 process, even when it is the *' sinewy thought " of 
 stressful life. I reject, in like manner, the position 
 of those who, Uke Bradley, treat thought as unreal, 
 and make it consist of feeling transformed. Hegel, 
 Leibniz, and certain !N"eo-Hegelians, all treat feeling 
 as a form of obscure knowledge, but a more dis- 
 criminating treatment is required. I think they all, 
 and some other writers besides, could have learned 
 something from the fine way in which Augustine distin- 
 guished feeling from judging ; and from closer study 
 of the conditions of knowledge. Thought is still 
 thought, and not feeUng, though they are, of course, 
 inseparably joined in the unity of consciousness or 
 knowledge. 
 
 Willing, too, is unique, and not resolvable into 
 thought or feehng. I have declined to run the whole 
 
EATIOIsTALISM AJ^TD VOLTO^TTAEISM 129 
 
 primary consciousness back into pure will-activity, 
 but in that early stage, though presentation or the 
 knowledge-term was present, inteUigence may very 
 well have been so far under the dominating influence 
 of will and feeling elements as not to have attained 
 any real independence. The presentative faculty 
 may well have needed growth and development before 
 cognition came to anything like independence and 
 mastery. The process was a complex one, and must 
 not be too abstractly conceived in the cognitive 
 iQterest, without due consideration of feeling and 
 volitional factors. But when the distinctively cogni- 
 tive supremacy was at length gained, the idea or the 
 presentational element took the place of clear con- 
 trol, which rationalism claims for it, over all else. 
 Then is the word of Locke realised, — " The love of 
 knowledge for its own sake is the principal part of 
 human perfection, and the seed-plot of aU the virtues." 
 For this there must, of course, be the wiU to know. 
 WiU-activity I have not taken to be the ultimate 
 thing, for that activity appears to be only a mode of 
 reahsing some condition of consciousness which is not 
 of the nature of will. 
 
 It is in the developed subject that knowing and 
 feeUng and willing find their deepest point of unity, 
 or the final ground of their hangiag together, however 
 one or the other may have at one time been found 
 predominating. This is the Gesammt-Ich or total-ego, 
 a personal unity. There is in such a subject an identity 
 of knowing and willing — I mean, in the unity of con- 
 sciousness or the personaUty. And it is, as I have 
 already pointed out, not with the genetic point of 
 view we are reaUy concerned, but with the meta- 
 
 I 
 
130 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 physics of consciousness as here and now developed. 
 In this consciousness relation, the voluntarist cannot 
 be allowed to hypostatise the will-element alone, 
 while the rationahst claims to do so for the knowledge- 
 element also, and the primacy indeed of the idea, the 
 perception, is the contention of the latter. For there 
 is certainly something absurd in the idea of voUtion 
 without any idea on the part of the wiUer of the end 
 or thing to be wHled. 
 
 A voluntary act includes, among other things, a 
 vohtion or determination to bring about a particular 
 result. Even Miinsterberg holds an idea of the result 
 to be brought about an essential factor in volimtary 
 action. In volition there is always an idea seeking 
 realisation. Volition is sufficiently complex to require 
 both presentation and feeling. But the transition 
 from idea to reaUsation is not effected so simply as 
 might be supposed, or without extraneous considera- 
 tions and connections. And, again, in the case of 
 cognition, no combination of ideating-processes and 
 no theory of ideas, will suffice to yield cognition. The 
 processes are, as I have insisted, all bound up, both 
 in the case of thought and in that of wiU, in the per- 
 sonal unity of individual life or consciousness. But 
 in the complex called consciousness, the primacy of 
 the idea is, to rationalism, to be maintained, for to it 
 belongs the power of initiative, but this primacy of 
 intelligence is not exercised without mediation of the 
 feeling and willing factors. For a purely thinking 
 consciousness would be an utter unreahty and ab- 
 straction. 
 
 The relations of thinking and willing with which I 
 have just been dealing belong to consciousness itself, 
 
EATIONALISM AND VOLU]^TAEISM 131 
 
 which latter admits of no explanation that does not 
 presuppose that very consciousness. The inner con- 
 nection of the various contents of consciousness is 
 indubitable. But the synthesis of elements which 
 goes to form consciousness or personality is one which 
 has never yet been explained. This conception of 
 personality is of central importance for psychology, 
 and calls for more explicit recognition than Bradley 
 has- given to it. For what we plainly are called to do 
 is to give more rational character to the relation of 
 the single elements — even the non-intellectual ones — 
 whereof it is composed. And to the thought or know- 
 ledge element this task of imparting greater ration- 
 ality is difficult enoughj for it is involved in being 
 itself, which is also in process of becoming. Cognition 
 is not the passive thing which it is sometimes repre- 
 sented to be, in the interest of the conative-affective 
 states ; consciousness is an activity, and a producing 
 one too, so far at least as the sense-qualities of objects 
 are concerned. 
 
 As Hoffding, in dealing with the " Problems of 
 Philosophy," has said, " it is a strange contradiction 
 in the grand rationalistic systems, that, although they 
 may be able to explain everything else, yet they are 
 powerless to explain the striving labouring nature of 
 the thought which produces them." And should it 
 be, as he remarks later, that " the empire of Being 
 may be much vaster than the possibilities of our ex- 
 perience," the limitations to our complete rationahty 
 of view come into sight. For aU that, it is the business 
 of reason or the speculative activity to follow on to 
 the furthest limits possible, so that thought and being 
 may grow always more approximately one. In doing 
 
132 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 so, thought must not be regarded as a purely subjec- 
 tive activityj or isolated from its objects and their 
 relations. For, as Eiehl has observed, in these objec- 
 tive relations "there mu^t be something analogous 
 to the activity of thought, something corresponding 
 to the form of this activity, else this activity could 
 not arise." ^ 
 
 I am an ideating seK and a willing self, but I am a 
 willing self because, and after, I am an ideating self : 
 the connection, however, may be as swift and inti- 
 mate as you please. But my ideas are certainly 
 present, as rationahsm contends, before they are 
 actuahsed by will. They do not wait on will demand, 
 as voluntarism contends. iN'or is their actuaUsation 
 a pure matter of idea and accordant voUtion, for being, 
 other than the idea or the vohtion, is involved in the 
 actuaUsation, as Ladd has clearly shown. ^ From aU 
 which it will be seen that for me cognition, and not 
 conation, is the central, or most distinctive, feature 
 of mind. Conation is not fundamental to cognition. 
 
 In the hght of aU I have advanced, the view of 
 Wundt — adopted by Kiilpe — which regards apper- 
 ception and will as ultimately one and the same 
 function, is not at aU satisfying. I^Teedlessly compU- 
 cated, it is too emotional, the feehngs being the spring 
 of action and not the representation, and all the pro- 
 cesses which are made up of feelings being taken to 
 arise from volition as fundamental fact. Wundt 
 says it is impossible to find out how a voUtion pro- 
 ceeds in any other way than by following it exactly 
 as it is presented to us in immediate experience. I 
 
 ^ * Science aud Metaphysics,' ed. by A. Fairbanks, p. 306. 
 2 ' Theory of Reality,* pp. 482, 483. 
 
EATIOI^TALISM AND VOLUNTAEISM 133 
 
 entirely agree, and it is on this precise ground that 
 I reject his theory of it. 
 
 It is not surprising that Eehmke should have felt 
 dissatisfied with the uses made of the term Vorstellung 
 in voluntaristic discussions. At one time you may 
 find it stand for something given ; at another time 
 it means an inner activity or event ; in another 
 instance it will serve for an image in us ; it does 
 duty for the represented, but again for the repre- 
 senting J now it is superfluously styled conscious, 
 and now it is, in self-contradictory fashion, termed 
 unconscious. And the apparently simple and easy 
 theory of a bUnd, duU, senseless will which is sup- 
 posed in voluntarism to have first borne sway, and 
 worked its way in the world up to seK-consciousness, 
 is by no means either easy or accoimtable, for how 
 this unconscious comes to consciousness is never satis- 
 factorily explained, at least in the higher spheres of 
 spirit, even when we allow for unconscious occurrences 
 in nature. It has been vainly attempted to explain 
 consciousness as only the passive product of uncon- 
 scious actions, without taking any proper account of 
 the reason immanent in the process. 
 
 There is no sure footing for our deepest experience 
 in feeling ; we need valid ideas — ideas not dissociate 
 from reality. Feeling has need of idea, which, how- 
 ever, must not get divorced from feeling, of which 
 it is meant to be the guide. But reason is not the 
 mere adventitious thing which voluntarists Hke Scho- 
 penhauer would make it, waiting on the bidding of 
 will. Eeason is to be regarded as intellectual rather 
 than conative ; it is concerned with axiomatic truths 
 or the fundamental ideas, principles, norms, or laws 
 
134 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 of reason. Eeason, emancipating itself from the toils 
 of the imperfection of the empirical, finds the reason 
 immanent in all the world ; discovers universally 
 vahd principles and measm-es for its metaphysical 
 constructions ; and, in its splendid native impulse 
 to unity, builds up, out of necessity itself, an absolute 
 unity — a unity of reality and idea. Eeason is utterly 
 underestimated or misconceived when it is reduced 
 by such voluntarism to a merely pragmatist attend- 
 ance on will and practical needs. Will, when divested 
 by Schopenhauer's voluntarism of the element of 
 knowledge, is utterly abstract and unreal. 
 
 But, of course, rationalism by itself does not suffice 
 to give a rounded whole in our view of reality, and, 
 in claiming primacy for inteUigence, it is not meant 
 that due consideration is not also to be given to wiU 
 and feeling factors. Man is not reason alone, how- 
 ever disinterested, any more than he is will alone or 
 feeling alone. But in freeing reason from non-rational 
 factors, we must take an organic conception of man 
 in his truth-seeking capacities and powers, and give 
 will and feehng values their due place. This can be 
 done, without forgetting that these values are stamped 
 with relativity and subjectivity. This wiU keep us 
 from faUing into the modern snare of undervaluing 
 the truth or reality values so dear to reason. Nothing 
 will be exempt from the sway and scrutiny of reason, 
 but truth will be sought with the whole man, feeling 
 and will co-operating toward the vital and concrete 
 results of the quest. 
 
 But this reckoning with the non-inteUectual factors 
 does not suffice, in our view of the meaning or philo- 
 sophy of life, for we must go on to a world-view, 
 
EATIONALISM AND VOLUIsTTAEISM 135 
 
 infinite in its reaches beyond our own world of reason. 
 And if the will and feeling facts and values import 
 pluralistic tendency and direction as against the 
 monistic tendency of reason, justice may yet be done 
 these former elements or factors, in our system of 
 thought, while the constructive power and activity 
 of reason systematically builds up its final or ulti- 
 mate monistic issue. 
 
 It can, of course, be said that under this monistic 
 sway of reason, justice to facts and values may not 
 be done, but it is just the task of infinitely patient 
 constructive reason to see that justice is done. The 
 thing is to see that reason remain living, concrete, and 
 grow not rigid, abstract, and unreal. Such reason 
 will advance the realisation of the normative ideals, 
 but not in merely formal fashion, without compre- 
 hending the foundations of the empiric world. Facts 
 and values must not be distorted or wrenched but 
 properly articulated in the system, while not allowed, 
 in recalcitrant fashion, to defeat or impede a final 
 unity of reason or of system. 
 
 Although not primarily concerned with psycho- 
 logical developments, but rather with the experience 
 of the developed consciousness, I have yet noticed 
 some of the more extreme and insupportable con- 
 tentions of psychological voluntarism. There are not 
 only forms of pragmatic relativism, but those psycho- 
 logical theories that treat value as more fundamental 
 than truth. And there is the religious voluntarism 
 which says that it depends on the will, whether we 
 can know the truth. Of course, in knowing, we must 
 have the will to know. But the truth does not depend 
 on our will, only our knowledge of it does, and this 
 
136 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBl!iEMS 
 
 latter must fulfil the conditions of all knowing. I 
 shall add yet another example of the somewhat over- 
 done emphasis and over-dogmatic tone of such presen- 
 tationSj as exemplified by Prof. J. H. Leuba.^ He 
 says, " Aristotle characterised man as thinMng-desire.'' 
 What Aristotle did was to make the exercise of reason 
 the chief good, with desire as moving power towards 
 it. But the fine things uttered by Aristotle touching 
 intellect and reason — reason in its rule of desire and 
 passion — apparently do not exist for the voluntarist. 
 " Will without intelligence may be possible," Leuba 
 says ; rationahsts deny it is anything of the sort. 
 It would not then properly be will. And the con- 
 verse is much more conceivable — U. that were of any 
 consequence — as Meumann and others have con- 
 tended. 
 
 Leuba takes the usual voluntaristic pleasure in 
 minimising thought, reason, and intellect. " The 
 function of intelligence " is reduced by Leuba to the 
 " gratifying " of " desires, needs, cravings," a not 
 very exalted rdle. All spontaneity of thought, all 
 finely disinterested reason, are swept away in this 
 crude subservience to desire. " Thought does not 
 exist for itself ; it is the instrument of desire." " We 
 think because we will." It is scarcely to be wondered 
 at that the rationahst finds little satisfaction in these 
 modes of indulging in the humiliation or degradation 
 of reason, the highest, diviaest thing in man. But 
 it reacts in lowering the psychological system itself, 
 which seeks to effect such reduction. To-day is the 
 day of feeling, striviag, impulse, passion, but imder 
 the serener light of a new day, the due balance of 
 
 ^ In ' The American Journal of Keligious Psychology,' 1907, p. 309. 
 
EATIONALTSM AND VOLUFTAEISM 137 
 
 reason, and logic, and conceptual thought, will be 
 recovered. 
 
 I have run intelligence and will back into unity 
 or harmony within the human consciousness — ^into 
 the unity of personaUty. And from this, and what 
 we have seen of the impulse of reason for imity, we 
 may say that the constitution of the mind "predis- 
 poses man for monism." ^ My own results lead me 
 finally to a spiritual monism, in which spiritual reason 
 is for me the ultimate principle. One finds a correla- 
 tion of subject and object, of "I" and " not-I," of 
 soul and body, of consciousness and existence, of 
 nature and spirit, of God and the world, but we cannot 
 rest in the end without running these back, under 
 causal points of view where necessary, into some 
 principle or power that embraces them all, and in- 
 wardly binds them all together. For though we may 
 have a relative dualism and individuahsm — which, 
 though relative, does not contemplate anything of 
 the nature of blank absorption — yet is the impulse 
 of reason for unity never satisfied short of an all- 
 xmity such as I find in the Absolute and Eternal 
 Eeason. For monism is the last word in philosophy, 
 and such a spiritual monistic principle is for me fons 
 et origo of the universe, with dualisms and correla- 
 tions finally grounded in it as fundamental principle. 
 But that World-Eeason has effectiveness, for it is 
 also World- Will, and is indeed the unity of the Ideal 
 and the Eeal. 
 
 ^ p. CaruSj 'Fundamental Problems,' p. 21. 
 
138 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE ONTOLOGICAL CONSCIOUSNESS. 
 
 The ontological consciousness is an intangible reality, 
 yet one on whose needs and activities both philosophy 
 and religion very largely depend. The ontological 
 sense has been very richly but varyingly displayed, 
 alike in the history of philosophy and of reUgion. 
 The ontological truth of things is one and indivisible, 
 is necessary and eternal. The ontological truth of 
 reahty is not made by the mind, but only appre- 
 hended by it. " That which the intellect conceives 
 as most known," said Aquinas, " and into which it 
 resolves all its concepts, is Being." That is so for 
 the reason, to put the matter somewhat differently, 
 that in the analysis of our concepts, the most uni- 
 versal idea at which we arrive, is that of Being. 
 Being and its modes are ultimate in philosophy. 
 Being is the prius of all things, even of our perceiving. 
 Nothing exists outside Being, but Being itself cannot 
 but be. Yet the study of being, out of knowing, 
 would be vain. Whatever is real must be held as 
 being ontologically true. Ontological truth must thus 
 be held as one with real being. OntologicaUy, reality 
 is not a thing of degrees : a thing, a person, an outer 
 
THE ONTOLOGICAL CONSCIOUSllTESS 139 
 
 worldj exists, or it does not exist. There is no tertium 
 in the matter. But there are degrees in our appre- 
 hension of it, though not of its objective reality. 
 With philosophic doctrine about degrees of reality, 
 on other grounds, or from other points of view, such 
 as degrees of perfection in reahty, I am not here 
 concerned. 
 
 May we not say that the ontological consciousness 
 is the feeling for reality, as divined by, and intuitively 
 present to, the mind ? It applies to all reality, even 
 that which is highest and most intangible. Every- 
 where we meet reality — reality not ourselves, reality 
 living and concrete. Non scholce sed vitce discimus, 
 is a saying of Seneca which may be applied to this 
 great matter. Just as there is this being-conscious- 
 ness, so, I remark in passing, there is truth-conscious- 
 ness — a feeUng of projection not to be interpreted in 
 terms of subjective feeling. When we hold something 
 for true, truth- consciousness there must be. It is a 
 demand of thought. Being, as universal, is before 
 us, and is not simply abstracted by us. Neither mere 
 historicism, nor mere psychologism, will here suffice. 
 If history is a development of spirit, clearly history 
 alone is insufficient. And the metaphysical side of 
 psychology also has been left in stark neglect. When 
 we ask what lies at the base of religion, we are at 
 last compelled to admit that it is a relation to a trans- 
 cendent power or reality behind all appearances or 
 phenomena. This super-reality constitutes a con- 
 ditioning metaphysical kernel or essence for religion, 
 and cannot be safely or wisely ignored by religious 
 thought or experience. The knowledge of it is not a 
 psychological but a speculative matter, as pertatoing 
 
140 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAT. PEOBLEMS 
 
 to the question of a metaphysical relation. In virtue 
 of his religious consciousness, man knows God to be 
 in himself, and himself in God. This represents in 
 consciousness a metaphysical relation between God 
 and the "I." Thus the metaphysical value of the 
 religious consciousness must be recognised. It is, of 
 course, not at all implied that the essence of religion 
 consists in knowledge alone, but only that the in- 
 volved metaphysical relation is matter of speculative 
 knowledge and insight. The subject is, however, of 
 religious importance no less than philosophical. " A 
 non-metaphysical rehgious being," it has been truly 
 said, "is an absurdity, a contradiction in terms." 
 For, " without the metaphysical instinct, and the 
 conclusions and postulated truths at which the mind 
 of man arrives by impulsion from this instinct, there 
 could be no form of religion whatever." ^ The reahty 
 of the self or ego is one of the metaphysical pre- 
 suppositions of religion. Without such a relatively 
 independent self or ego, religion is a futility. 
 
 Metaphysics, ontology, is concerned with what is : 
 with what Ues behind experienceable reality ; because 
 God is, our moral and religious obligations exist 
 towards Hitn. Ontology makes Being ultimate ; it 
 makes Being first, and last, and midst, and without 
 end ; it makes Being base and bottom of aU thought 
 and of all existence. Being, Absolute and Uncon- 
 ditioned, is the ground of all possible experience. It 
 is the most fundamental thing in human experience. 
 The soul that lives and moves and has its conscious 
 being in God has an ontological consciousness all its 
 own. In oux consciousness of self and of objective 
 
 1 G. T. Ladd, 'Phil, of Religion,' vol. i. p. 47. 
 
THE OI^TOLOGICAL CONSCIOUSNESS 141 
 
 nature, we have a knowledge, an ontological sense, 
 of being or real existence. Nothing is more natural, 
 and nothing more spontaneous, than such ontological 
 consciousness. And there is no more universal know- 
 ledge than such metaphysical knowledge, for in the 
 whole range of experience we are always in contact 
 with metaphysical reaUty. All our knowledge is shot 
 through with ontological inference and ontological 
 judgment, whether we heed the amazingly interesting 
 fact or not. Our necessary rational thought rises at 
 last to the ontological necessity of self-existent and 
 eternal Being. The knowledge of God is given to, 
 or in, consciousness by means of our spiritual per- 
 ceptions. What is fundamental to any consciousness 
 we may have of God is the consciousness of His 
 absolute Being. Our consciousness of Him must be 
 allowed ontological significance, and not treated as a 
 mere consciousness of our own state. Our conscious- 
 ness of God is not simply our own self-consciousness, 
 any more than our consciousness of a crystal or a 
 cucumber or a coolie is merely our own self-conscious- 
 ness. Our consciousness of God is no more merely 
 subjective, than our knowledge of Nature is a mere 
 subjective certainty. The God Whom we know is 
 prior to, and independent of, our apprehension of 
 Him. There is objective truth in our consciousness 
 of God — a unity of being and consciousness — not less 
 truly than in these other cases. For though we hold 
 God to be supremely immanent in man. He is yet 
 distinct from man, posits His own difference from 
 man, so that an indistinguishable sameness is no 
 feature of the case. The objective existence of God, 
 therefore, ought to be as real to us as the objective 
 
142 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 existence of the human beings that surround us. It 
 is the consciousness of Him, as of all real objective 
 existence, that now concerns us. That consciousness 
 constitutes for us here the " ontological conscious- 
 ness," a quaUty of singularly variant strength in 
 different persons over broad tracts of history and 
 experience. In whatever ways we come to know 
 God, we have a metaphysical value of conviction 
 as to His Being, as real. For, in the endeavour to 
 perfect our personahty in God, "it is the metaphysic, 
 herein implied, of Absolute Personahty, which directly, 
 or indirectly, permeates our whole world, and gives 
 to the thought of freedom, of personality, of the 
 autonomous self, a metaphysical backgroimd, which 
 has its influence even when it is contested or denied." ^ 
 It seems to me good and needful to emphasise, in 
 the manner ah*eady exemphfied, metaphysical or onto- 
 logical aspects so generally overlooked by Protestant 
 thinkers in particular. 
 
 All this is much more natural in the rehgious sphere 
 than might at first sight appear. There have been 
 great writers on aesthetics (J. Volkelt, for example) 
 who have found the fundamental principle of aesthetics 
 in an immediate and intuitive certainty of something 
 trans-subjective, over-experienceable, metaphysical, 
 and who have claimed a metaphysic of aesthetics as 
 expressly as a metaphysic of rehgion. Esthetics, 
 with its ideals of unity and of wholeness, must, equally 
 
 ^ E. Troeltsch, 'Protestantism and Progress," p. 36. Not here 
 
 alone, but in other works, has Troeltsch finely emphasised the meta- 
 physical and ontological character of religion. This has also been 
 effectively done in A. Dorner's very comprehensive work, 'Die 
 Metaphyaik des Chriatentums.* 
 
THE ONTOLOGICAIi CONSCIOUSl^ESS 143 
 
 with religion^ have ontological grounding in the idea 
 of absolute being. Bergson has spoken of such " meta- 
 physical intuition " as may be supposed to be here 
 involved, but he has left it imperfectly defined, and 
 without setting out its metaphysical character. He 
 tells us that *' metaphysical intuition " deepens and 
 amplifies perception, but without saying in what 
 manner. Of course, Bergson thinks we shall know 
 reality better if we enter into it, or better still, coin- 
 cide with it, or he it, but that would mean the destruc- 
 tion of ontological knowledge, an issue which philo- 
 sophy does not contemplate. For there can be no 
 relation of knowledge in absolute identity. We may, 
 however, so far become one with reahty, ag- he de- 
 siderates, as to know " what constitutes its essence,'* 
 by a kind of "intellectual sympathy." In the re- 
 ligious sphere, this metaphysical intuition is con- 
 cerned with the transcendent actuahty which we call 
 God or the Absolute, Who, as absolute Spirit or seK- 
 conscious personal Being, is the demand of the re- 
 ligious consciousness. The religious consciousness does 
 not stand by itself. It is consciousness of Some- 
 thing other and higher than itself. The soul itself is, 
 in its unity, a developing real, but, as such, it is stiQ 
 a potency that finds, as a partaker of the Divine 
 nature, its infinite actuality in God. As Eosmini 
 said (in his ' Teodicea '), " the essence of being, fuUy 
 realised, is God." 
 
 In a subject so largely undeveloped as the present, 
 it seems eminently desirable to illustrate the presence 
 and working of the ontological sense or consciousness 
 by means of historical examples, after which we shall 
 be in a better position to discuss the worth and value 
 
144 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 of such ontological consciousness. The examples can 
 only be illustrative, not exhaustive^ for I cannot here 
 overtake many ontologies of interest, such as those 
 of Wolff and others, including those of Tongiorgi 
 and other Scholastic philosophers, before and after. 
 But not many of them yield anything helpful towards 
 the doctrine of the ontological consciousness. Its rise 
 was slow. "Plato," we are told, "brought the idea 
 of God into philosophy for the first time." Plato 
 himself says that " to find the Maker and Father of 
 this universe is a hard task " (' Tim.' 28 c). But it 
 is significant, for my present purpose, that in the 
 ' Parmenides ' all consciousness is taken to have a 
 positive content, to have Being of some kind as its 
 object.^ Plato's ontological sense is evidenced in his 
 rating ontology as the highest kind of knowledge ; 
 in his finding the One in the Many ; and in his ever- 
 present consciousness of immortality. 
 
 The ontological sense of Aristotle is evidenced in 
 the place which he gives to ontology in his discussions 
 in the ' Metaphysics.' There is for him a science of 
 Being as Being, in a sense from which Locke and 
 Dugald Stewart might have learned more than they 
 did. Existence is, for him, never separate from 
 knowledge ; that is to say, things in actual existence 
 are identical with the knowledge of them. He is able 
 to speak of the " constructive reason " in us which 
 "creates aU things" {' De Anima,' HL 5-7). God 
 is to him eternal, perfect Being, but His relations are 
 too purely deistic. 
 
 In Augustine, the ontological consciousness is finely 
 developed. The timeless and spaceless character of 
 
 ^ Cf. S. H. Hodgson, ' Some Cardinal Points in Knowledge/ p. 57. 
 
THE ONTOLOGICAL COISTSCIOUSNESS 145 
 
 God, and the soul's relations to Him, are expressively 
 brought out. In the ' Confessions,' Augustine asks : 
 " What place is there within me, whither my God 
 can come ? " (I. 2). "I would not exist at aU, unless 
 Thou wert abeady within me " (I. 2). " Thou wast 
 never a place, and yet we have receded from Thee ; 
 we have drawn near to Thee, and yet Thou wast 
 never a place " (X. 26). And so in the question of 
 time likewise. " Thou precedest all past times by 
 the height of Thiae ever-present eternity ; and Thou 
 exceedest aU future times, since these are future, and, 
 once they have come, wiU be past times " (XI. 13. 2). 
 " Thy to-day is eternity," he continues. In the 
 ' City of God ' (XI.), the fine ontological conscious- 
 ness of Augustine is seen when he says : " For we 
 both are, and know that we are, and delight in. our 
 being, and our knowledge of it." But what a deep 
 ontology of knowledge there is in Augustine is not 
 revealed except to careful study. The validity of 
 our knowledge he runs back ultimately to God Him- 
 self, but not without careful explication of the part 
 played by our own mental activity. And, on the 
 existence of the self, he says in his work ' On the 
 Trinity ' : " For it is eternal to the soul to live ; it 
 is eternal to know that it Uves." His ontological 
 consciousness is again seen, when he argues from the 
 existence of doubt to the existence of the doubter. 
 " Seeing that even if he doubts, he lives ; if he 
 doubts, he remembers why he doubts ; if he doubts, 
 he understands that he doubts ; if he doubts, he 
 wishes to be certain ; if he doubts, he thinks ; if 
 he doubts, he knows that he does not know ; if he 
 doubts, he judges that he ought not to assent rashly. 
 
 K 
 
146 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 Whosoever, therefore, doubts about anything else, 
 ought not to doubt of all these things ; which, if 
 they were not, he would not be able to doubt of 
 anything." ^ In keeping with all this, he can say 
 that " in Christ, immortality is no longer a hope but 
 a fact " (res). 
 
 The ontological sense was highly developed in 
 Plotinus, especially in respect of the Being of God 
 as transcendent, spaceless, timeless. He is Absolute 
 Being raised above all oppositions. There is lack of 
 emphasis on those qualities or attributes that lead 
 to the movement of God or the One towards man. 
 But the soul's true self was to be found in the ever- 
 present God. That primal One is everywhere and 
 nowhere (' Enn.' III. 9, 3). It is infinite and self- 
 sufficing, and all beings are from it ('Enn.' VI.). 
 Its reality is unique, and predicates are not per- 
 missible concerning it, save to indicate its unique 
 power to dispense with predicates, even those of being 
 and goodness and freedom. The ontological con- 
 sciousness of Plotinus was marked to the end, for he 
 died striving, so he said, to bring the Divine within 
 him into harmony with the Divine in the universe. 
 The same ontological sense is seen in Proclus, whose 
 thought places the First One above or "on the other 
 side " of Being. Proclus deals strongly, in his ' Theo- 
 logical Elements,' with the ontology of intellect. His 
 is a very ontological idea of the Good.^ In Pseudo- 
 Dionysius, " the super-essential " Deity is raised 
 above all things essential, and His unity is set " above 
 
 1 'DeTrinitate,' X. 
 
 ^ Cf. my Article on "Le System© de Proclus" in the * Revue de 
 M^fcaphysique et de Morale,' September 1921, pp. 500-504. 
 
THE ONTOLOGICAL COIi^^SCIOUSiirESS 147 
 
 the minds," in the same highly abstractive fashion 
 as in Proclus. " The theologians say, that God, the 
 Being Who is very being, the Being above all, is hke 
 to no one. But He gives likeness to them who turn 
 with all their power to Him Who is above all defini- 
 tion and reason" (' De Div. Jll^om.' c. IX). The 
 influence of Proclus is everywhere marked on Pseudo- 
 Dionysius, though he has elements beyond the former. 
 To Boethius we owe the most elaborate exposition of 
 the doctrine of Eternity, as " the complete and per- 
 fect possession of unlimited life all at once " ; and 
 this, he thinks, " will reveal to us the Divine ISTature 
 and the Divine knowledge at the same time." 
 
 The strong ontological consciousness of Anselm is 
 seen in the ' Proslogion ' itself, without speaking of 
 the ontological argument, associated primarily with 
 his name, as having given the first, but inadequate, 
 formulation of it. In the ' Proslogion ' (c. 14) he says ; 
 " Thou wast seeking God, thou hast found Him to 
 be something supreme over aU, than which nothing 
 more excellent can be conceived ; that this is life 
 itself, light, wisdom, goodness, eternal blessedness 
 and blessed eternity ; and that this is everywhere 
 and always." This was in close connection with the 
 ontological argument itself, a fact too often forgotten. 
 Again (c. 15), he says : " Not only art Thou that than 
 which no greater can be conceived, but Thy great- 
 ness transcends all conception." Aquinas, in his 
 ' Summa,' held that " God is man's beatitude " 
 (I. 2. 1). God is the " Principle and Cause " of the 
 creature, and in Him " the perfections of aU things 
 pre-exist " in excellent manner. Therefore, we must 
 seek to know what He is. For, " there is the appetite 
 
148 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 to know and love God, that is formed in our nature " 
 (* Snmma/ I. 93, 1). God is the necessary Being 
 (' Contra Gent.' I. c. 15, c. 22). His is a bold on- 
 tology, dealing with the Divine attributes and rela- 
 tions in fun and unshrinking manner, it seems but 
 fair to say. 
 
 Eckhart gives fuller expression to much that was 
 characteristic of !N"eo-Platonism. But he got beyond 
 its unity that was above being. For Eckhart, God 
 and Being are one and the same. But in a rather 
 audacious manner he made God the sole existence, 
 and was apt to regard the creature's existence as 
 being of God's own existence, with which the human 
 soul was in most intimate union. Indeed, the in- 
 teriority of the mystical life has never been more 
 energetically affirmed than by Eckhart. He stood 
 strongly for reason, which his ontological conscious- 
 ness held to penetrate the Divine Being, prior to all 
 considerations of the attributes of that Being. He 
 held being and cognition to be one. His ontological 
 consciousness led him to the position that man's 
 blessedness is not because God is so near, but because 
 man Icnows how near He is. Eckhart is, however, 
 defective in historic sense. ^ The ontological sense of 
 Descartes led him, like Augustine, to argue that even 
 doubt and deception necessitate our existence. But 
 Descartes is the more methodic and systematic. They 
 both used the self, however, as their philosophic basis. 
 Descartes, in the cardinal principle of his philosophy, 
 put forward the immediate implication of self -knowing 
 in self-consciousness. Thus did he recognise being 
 
 ^ The latest Article on the philosophy of Eckhart is by M. de Wulf 
 iti the ' Revue N^o-Scolastique,' November 1921. 
 
THE ONTOLOGICAL CONSCIOUSNESS 149 
 
 as known, but he was more than inclined to rank 
 being or esse after eogitare. In his second ' Meditation,' 
 Descartes laid it down that the metaphysical exist- 
 ence of the soul is the first necessary truth, taking 
 more care in the manner of his doing so than he has 
 often got credit for. In his third and fifth ' Medita- 
 tions,' he gave the God-concept metaphysical value, 
 and made famous formulation of the ontological 
 " proof " of the Being of God. Descartes once wrote 
 that " truth consists in Being," but he was apt to 
 lay greater emphasis on certitude than on truth. 
 
 The ontological sense cannot be denied to Male- 
 branche, despite any pantheistic tendencies or errors. 
 God was to him " the Being " — ^the source of all being : 
 He contains in Himself all thoughts and all things. 
 Says Malebranche : " His true name is, He that is ; 
 or, in other words, Being without restriction, AU- 
 Being, Being infinite and universal, and wellspring 
 of the actual and possible." That is a form of the 
 ontological consciousness which it is not difficult, I 
 think, to develop ; it calls for differentiation, as we 
 shall see in ScheUing also. " Nous voyons toutes choses 
 en Bieu," says Malebranche — " we see all things in 
 God." To know the truth is, in his view, to see God. 
 Immediate objects are ideas in the one aU-embracing 
 Mind. A true doctrine of the ontological conscious- 
 ness does not involve or sanction the ontologism or 
 direct intuition of God advocated by Malebranche. 
 For we must ontologise in the right place and way, 
 and not claim the natural, direct, and effortless appre- 
 hension and consciousness of God which ontologism 
 postulates. The ontological sense was not lacking in 
 Montesquieu, who shows it especially in his warm 
 
150 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PROBLEMS 
 
 espousal of the immortality of the soul. Says he : 
 " I delight in believing that I am immortal as God 
 Himself. Independently of revelation, metaphysics 
 gives me a very strong hope of my eternal happiness, 
 which I would not willingly renounce." Metaphysics 
 had apparently done more for him than it has for 
 many modern writers on the idea of immortahty. 
 The ontological sense of Leibniz is seen in the fact 
 that Being is central in his system. The materials for 
 his system were drawn from the sciences of the real. 
 True being was for him ontological ; it was metaphysi- 
 cal being, in the sense of activity, force, substance. 
 Being was realised in his monadistic system.^ 
 
 The ontological sense was strong in Fichte, but 
 not without contradictoriaess and subjectivist limita- 
 tions. Being or esse was willed. In him, it depended 
 at times on religion rather than philosophy, especially 
 in his later period. For he came at length, as in the 
 Anweisung, to set being before becoming, and to give 
 God due place above the creatures in their striving. 
 In it he says : " There are not many beings, but only 
 One Beiag." Even the Moral Order is for him in- 
 vested with objective significance. Fichte came to 
 hold that " the metaphysical only, and not the his- 
 torical, can give us blessedness." It is Fichte, also, 
 who, in a remarkable passage, said ; " From the 
 beginning of the world down to the present day, 
 reUgion, whatever form it may have assumed, has 
 been essentially metaphysic ; and he who despises 
 and derides metaphysic — that is, everything d priori 
 — either knows not what he does, or else he despises 
 
 ^ See more fully my Article, " Leiboiz on Truth and Being," in 
 * The Monist; October 1921. 
 
THE ONTOLOGICAL CONSCIOUSNESS 151 
 
 and derides religion." Fichte's ontological conscious- 
 ness enabled him to say : "I comprehend Thee not, 
 yet in Thee I comprehend myself and the world " ; 
 and again, that " the true life lives in the eternal. 
 It is a whole in every instant, the highest life which 
 is possible at aU." Surprising is the ontological con- 
 sciousness which in Schleiermacher (' Eeden,' No. 2) 
 asks — " What is all science i£ not the Being of things 
 in you, in your reason ? What is all art and culture 
 if not your Being in the things to which you give 
 measure, form, and order 1 And how can both come 
 to life in you, except in so far as there lives imme- 
 diately in you the eternal unity of Eeason and Nature, 
 the universal Being of all finite things in the Infiiute? " 
 Ontological consciousness is as marked in Hegel, 
 as is its grave lack ia Kant, whose thought was sub- 
 jective and sceptical. Hegel, however, poured con- 
 tempt, in an unfortunate manner, on pure being, as 
 he conceived it, and laid himself open to criticism. 
 But a mere being, without further thought-content, 
 is an impossible, i.e., untenable, conception. But the 
 beginning, for Hegel, hes in the Eeal. " The Eeal 
 is the rational." The Ground of the Whole is, for 
 him, base and bottom. I am not now concerned with 
 defects in his outworking but only with the human 
 approach to the Ultimate EeaUty and Absolute Truth 
 through the ontological sense. " The character of 
 positive religion is," he says, " that its truths are, 
 without our knowing whence or how they have come," 
 etc. His ontological sense was also evinced in his 
 support of the ontological argument as against Kant, 
 only he overdid the matter in one or two respects. 
 But it cannot be said that his ontology was of so 
 
152 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 complete a character, in all respects, as it might 
 have been. To ScheUing I shall refer later. 
 
 The ontological sense is displayed in Krause, who 
 flees the abstractness of Hegel, and takes the Divine 
 essence as hving and personal World-Ground, from 
 which all things are derivable. God is to him the 
 First Being, the one infinite and unconditioned Eeason, 
 having a self-inwardness that is infinite and uncon- 
 ditioned, ia the seKness and wholeness of His Being. 
 Our thought of God is already based in Him, as 
 prior to our thought of Him, ia Whom our very ego 
 is wholly grounded. Krause's philosophical doctrine 
 of the Divine Beiag has been more significant for 
 subsequent philosophical development in many coun- 
 tries than has been at all adequately reahsed. 
 
 Ontological consciousness is also undoubted in 
 Eosmini, who derived all our ideas from the idea of 
 being. He held that beiag is essentially determined, 
 and, when undetermiaed, is so much the less beiag. 
 Even indeterminate beiag, Eosmini held, is stiU some- 
 thiag, for the reason that it is still being, is an object 
 of thought, and has within it virtually all determiaa- 
 tions. No one has so weU as Eosmiai iasisted that 
 being is by itself inteUigible ; that it is essential to 
 the forming of all other ideas ; to our power of 
 thiaking ; and that from it other concepts borrow 
 their intelligibility. Varisco, in our own time, evinces 
 strong ontological consciousness, not without iaflu- 
 ences from Eosmiai and Bonatelli.^ To Varisco, beiag 
 
 ^ Bonatelli deals with the phenomena of consciousneBs in clear 
 and precise form, and for him there is always a truth of some sort 
 which is not the creation of the subject which affirms it. See his 
 * La Coscienza e il Meccanesimo Interiore,' pp. 26-81. 
 
THE ONTOLOGICAL CONSCIOUSNESS 153 
 
 is, " in the truest sense of the word, and without any 
 equivocation, God." ^ 
 
 The ontological sense is by no means confined to 
 great metaphysicians and marked religionists, but is 
 exemplified in poets like Coleridge, Wordsworth, 
 Browning, Tennyson, Goethe, Hugo. The moimtains, 
 the valleys, and the resplendent rivers, they had in 
 consciousness made their own ; but more, the Being 
 of God and of the soul stood out as real to their 
 ontological consciousness. The last named had a 
 philosophy of his own, and, while making himself 
 responsible at times for pantheistic passages, main- 
 tained an unwavering faith in the personaUty of God. 
 He strongly held to responsibility and immortality, 
 and iu connection with the latter belief showed his 
 strong ontological sense when, in the ' L^gende des 
 Si^cles,' he said : " I want to be free here below, 
 responsible elsewhere — I am more than a stalk of 
 grass or a grain of sand — I feel I am, for all eternity, 
 thinking, winged, living." The consciousness within 
 himself of the future life as a certainty was very 
 strong in Hugo, who believed his work was only 
 begun, and who found ia this craving for the infinite 
 a demonstration that there is a real infinity. With 
 all his contradictions and exaggerations, Hugo's belief 
 in, and passionate quest of, God, begat in him the 
 ontological consciousness of which I have spoken. 
 The strength of the ontological consciousness in 
 Goethe, and ia all of them, was drawn direct from 
 the breasts of reality. 
 
 Now, i£ the ontological consciousness is concerned 
 with being or reality, its developed sense must surely 
 
 ^ See his * I Massimi Problemi ' and * Conosci Te Stesso/ 
 
154 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 be a precious and important possession, one that 
 must greatly enhance our personal power and value. 
 The fee lin g or instinct for being or reaUty is in some 
 degree present in all men, and reality offers itself to 
 the insight, knowledge, and consciousness of all men. 
 Eeality, as given, simply is, and our metaphysical 
 function is not merely to think, but to know. To 
 understand being is the function of knowledge. Our 
 world-consciousness means that we have to do with 
 the category of being at every turn. And our world- 
 consciousness has an essential part to play in the 
 highest life of man. It would be strange if we had no 
 ontological consciousness of N'ature, as she holds us 
 ever locked in her clasp. I have not here been 
 primarily concerned with the ontological sense in 
 respect of nature reahty, but of those higher reaches 
 which concern the Divine Being and our own exist- 
 ence. I say, our own existence, for in all our modern 
 talk of personality, we cannot escape the need to 
 determine what spirit or what soul really is. But 
 our prime concern here with the soul or self is, that 
 it is. If we afi&rm being of the phenomenal, we must 
 d fortiori affirm being of the self -identical, functioning 
 ego which makes aU knowledge possible, and is, as 
 such, a unity. The one thing which it is impossible 
 for normal man not to know is that he is a soul or 
 self. That self-conscious, self-determining being or 
 essence which we call the spirit or the personaUty — 
 they need not be distinguished for the present — ^is 
 matter of prime concern to the ontological conscious- 
 ness. The soul's unity, as that of an unified con- 
 centrated power or magnitude, is one which is a hving, 
 active principle, rich in contentual activity. So rich 
 
THE ONTOLOGICAL COISTSCIOUSl^ESS 155 
 
 indeed that, small as the soul may seem to be, the 
 universe yet reports itself to it, and reflects itself in 
 it. Being the soul or self has, and how much more than 
 bare being the philosophy of values is concerned to 
 inquire. With its theory of values I am not here con- 
 cerned, but only with the religious-metaphysical foun- 
 dations which underlie it. But the soul is an active 
 force, a unity of the manifold ; not something fertig 
 or ready-made ; but rather raised or reared out of 
 potential circimistance or condition by its own deed. 
 But the soul cannot hold itself to be set£-conscious 
 reality save on the supposition of the Existence of 
 God. In no other way can experience, qua religious 
 experience, escape the suspicion of Olusion, for the 
 religious man does not hold, as some do, the soul 
 to be a substance existing in its own right. The 
 truth is, it is his God-consciousness which the religious 
 man feels to be the last and truest ground and guar- 
 antee of his self-consciousness. And this God-con- 
 sciousness may become a fuller, richer, vaster thing 
 than is almost ever realised. The metaphysical 
 grounding of religion lies primarily in the relation 
 of the finite consciousness to this transcendent Other. 
 He is the transcendent Eeal in relation to our actual 
 consciousness. For the real is not simply our actual 
 experience-content ; that is but a segment of reahty 
 in whole ; the real embraces also possible experience- 
 content. There exists nothing which is not a possible 
 object of experience, for everything can come within 
 the range of consciousness, so far as its finite form 
 extends. Our modes of consciousness are, in their 
 complex unity, modes of the external world. Therein 
 lies the infinite scope of the ontological consciousness. 
 
156 GEE AT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 For the empire of Being must sm^ely be held to ex- 
 ceed in vastness the possibilities of our finite experi- 
 ence. Being is the first, and largest, and most sure 
 of all facts, and one which every mind can conceive. 
 "All consciousness reveals Being." Being is simply 
 the universahsed concept of existent facts or real 
 concepts. The real is Being in manifestation, and, 
 as such, its inner nature may be known. For Being 
 is in its essence such that it is inteUigible to us — a 
 great significant fact. Experience is the correlate of 
 such reality. And the real is, in the last result, 
 spiritual. 
 
 It is not possible to evade the fact that a meta- 
 physical knowledge of God and His relation to man 
 and the world is involved in the Christian religion. 
 In such knowledge God is revealed, and is the object 
 of our knowledge. That knowledge has necessary, 
 real, and hving content, whereby the God-conscious- 
 ness is developed in us. It is this hold of the reahty 
 of the object — the reahty of God — ^that is the crown- 
 ing concern of the ontological consciousness ; and 
 the ontological consciousness has been truly said to 
 have " an important influence on the rehgious evolu- 
 tion of humanity." To say that the religious con- 
 sciousness carries with or in it no metaphysical im- 
 phcations of the Being or reahty of God, is entirely 
 to fail to apprehend the facts of the case, which is 
 one of fundamental importance for a real philosophy 
 of religion. It would be absurd and intolerable that 
 the rehgious consciousness should not be allowed to 
 recognise, in its own development, those ontological 
 implications and values which connect it with the 
 most real Being in the universe. For the ontological 
 
THE ONTOLOGICAL COIS^SCIOUSNESS 157 
 
 postulate or demand is even more essential to religion 
 than it is to science. The related psychological 
 analysis is, of course, to be duly recognised ; it has 
 been so abundantly, and does not concern us hie et 
 nunc. Psychological process is not metaphysical con- 
 tent, it is still necessary to point out. Eeligion, with 
 all its aims and values for human hfe and action, 
 abeady exists, and in nowise waits upon metaphysics. 
 What the ontological consciousness concerns itself 
 with is, the metaphysical foundations that underUe 
 religion, and the ontological presuppositions, convic- 
 tions, and values, involved in its apprehensions and 
 conceptions of the supersensible Reality or Supreme 
 Otherness. The ontological consciousness presumes 
 the presence of a transcendent object, in the sense 
 at least that there is an objective element given in 
 consciousness. This objectivity is, in the highest 
 instance, nothing but the Divine Being as trans- 
 cendent object of our God-consciousness. It cannot 
 be too plainly said that no religion, however ethical 
 it may claim to be, is secured in any part of it — 
 not even in its hope of immortaUty — against the 
 illusory or merely provisory, so long as such meta- 
 physical bases have not been found, and such an 
 ontological scrutiny has not been made. Take the 
 belief in immortahty. It has been truly said that 
 " a recognition of the activity and vahdity of the 
 ontological consciousness is indispensable, if the causes 
 of this beUef are to be converted into reasons or 
 rational arguments in its defence. That objective 
 and constitutive action of the mind of man which 
 endows the self and things with their real being is 
 at the base of the belief in the immortality of the 
 
158 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 seK as truly as it is at the base of all scientific and 
 religious beliefs." ^ And the truth is, that the meta- 
 physical imphcations and values of immortality are 
 every whit as real and necessary, albeit not so easily 
 separated or stated by themselves, as the ethical im- 
 phcations and values. For every ethic stands rooted 
 in, and supported by, metaphysics.^ What respect 
 does any ethics that is without metaphysics deserve 1 
 Knowledge may in reUgion remain for ever incom- 
 plete, but it must always be of reality, as trans- 
 subjectively real. The reality of the object is a 
 primal presupposition or demand here, and this ac- 
 cords precisely with the demand of the ontological 
 consciousness. This, although religion and meta- 
 physics have their own separate interests. We have 
 no right to rest content without the real in rehgion, 
 any more than men are content without reaching the 
 real in every other realm or sphere. All religion is 
 penetrated with personahty and individuahty, and 
 here again such a condition of things cannot be satis- 
 factorily regarded save as rooted in metaphysic. I 
 have shewn that metaphysic is, in its own manner 
 and degree, of the essence of rehgion ; for our ethical 
 and rehgious values the metaphysical values and sup- 
 ports must be found. But that is not to say — and 
 let the fact be carefidly noted — that the metaphysical 
 entities involved exist as such, or per se ; they are 
 not, be it observed, identical with the reaUty of 
 factual existence ; they are the priiis, so to speak, 
 in which are embedded the ethical and the religious, 
 which, however, first greet us in their vital warmth. 
 
 J C. T. Ladd, op. ciL, vol. ii. p. 182. 
 
 2 Of. my Article on "The Metaphysical Aspects of Immortality " in 
 the *Holborn Review,' April 1921. 
 
THE OlJ^TOLOGICAL CONSCIOUSl^ESS 159 
 
 But let there be no mistake. The ontological con- 
 sciousness, too, in its relatedness to the reahties of 
 the Divine and human existences, is suffused with 
 a warm enough glow — the glow of the whole soul's 
 hold upon, and contact with, vital reality ; and 
 the ontological sense is surely not rare which feels 
 at one with Wordsworth's sense sublime of something 
 " far more deeply interfused," as the Ultimate Eeality 
 of nature and of human Hfe. There is a certain 
 developed ontological consciousness in ScheUing's say- 
 ing " that in God alone is being, and that, therefore, 
 aU beiug is only the Being of God — ^this thought 
 neither reason nor feeling can take away ; it is the 
 supreme thought, iu unison with which aU hearts 
 vibrate." But this monistic conception of being 
 cannot here be for us a satisfying one ; for if we are 
 simply to say that God is all in all, there remains no 
 more to be said, and thought is not advanced. But 
 the call for differentiation of being is too iasistent for 
 that, and it is in the differentiated forms in which 
 this Ultimate Being is manifested that the ontological 
 consciousness has its vast scope and free play. A 
 more critical monism must recognise the deeper 
 aspects and multiplex possibihties of the problem 
 of being. And indeed Schelling himself did much 
 in that direction, making the Divine potencies arrive 
 in result at relative independence and lordship of 
 beiQg, although in us running back to a higher unity. 
 Hence we must have the real apprehension of being, 
 not the mere Begrijf or notion of being. It is an 
 experience, not a mere conception or theory, and it 
 involves more than the senses and the logical under- 
 standing. For, as Seneca said of God, " tecum est, 
 intus est,"' This God-consciousness belongs to the 
 
160 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 historical God-consciousness, which has arisen out of 
 aprioristic possibilities. The objective side of these — 
 for Kant was wrong in thinking everything aprioristic 
 is merely subjective — is in God, Who is HinaseK the 
 objective principle of the consciousness. Being is 
 thus borne into me, as basis of all actuality. The 
 finite being sublates, but does not thereby cancel, 
 his personahty into the Universal Personality, which 
 is God, in its consciousness of the Infinite and its 
 relations thereto. That Primal and Infinite Being, 
 which is the ground of all other being, ought to be, 
 to my ontological consciousness, more real than the 
 leaves that faU in autumn or the buds that burst 
 in spring. I am far from alone in that conviction. 
 Eoyce, for example, says " that while the whole finite 
 world is fidl of dark problems for us, there is abso- 
 lutely nothing, not even the immediate facts of our 
 sense at this moment, so clear, so certain, as the 
 existence and the unity of that infinite conscious 
 Self, of Whom we have now heard so much.'* " There 
 is nothing in the Universe absolutely sure except the 
 Infinite."^ "My reason for beUeving that there is 
 one absolute World-SeK," he goes on to say, "is 
 simply that the profoundest agnosticism which you 
 can possibly state in any coherent fashion, the deepest 
 doubt which you can in any way formulate about 
 the world or the things that are therein, already 
 presupposes, implies, demands, asserts, the existence 
 of such a World-Self." ^ Eoyce propounded, later, 
 " four conceptions of Being," that is, of being as real, 
 but he ran all being into the mind of the Absolute 
 
 ^ J. Royce, 'Spirit of Modern Philosophy/ pp. 344, 345. 
 2 Ibid., p. 349. 
 
THE OInTTOLOGICAL C0:N'SCI0US]S'ES8 161 
 
 in such a way that our ontological consciousness is 
 not helped in its grasp of being that is real and special 
 or particular. Still, Eoyce finely exemplified the 
 ontological consciousness. But the mind has many 
 ways of reaching an ontological consciousness of the 
 Absolute Being. Still, our ineradicable sense of, and 
 longing for, Eeality, prove the reality and growth of 
 ontological consciousness in us. In that developed 
 residt there may often be a double strain — ^religious 
 and metaphysical — but it is with the latter, the onto- 
 logical, we are now concerned. Ontological conscious- 
 ness may exist, or be developed, in certain forms, 
 without the deepening and enriching influences of 
 specifically reUgious experience. But such experience 
 brings a stronger ontological consciousness. So deeply 
 does religion involve metaphysical reahty. It centres 
 in the most real Being, and arrives at conscious 
 metaphysical cognition of God. The deeps of feehng 
 and apprehension lay hold, more generally, on Being, 
 on the Eeal — I do not, of course, forget the sense, 
 here immaterial, in which Being is sometimes held 
 as wider than the Real — and I modestly claimed that 
 our ontological consciousness, where strongly de- 
 veloped, is an enhancement of our personal power and 
 value. But the claim was really a too modest one. For 
 the feeliag for Being is reaUy our highest endowment 
 — the highest gift of God to man. In this claim Greek 
 speculator, ^eo-Platonic thinker. Scholastic philoso- 
 pher, and modern metaphysician, would all agree. 
 It is, therefore, surely worth while scientifically and 
 systematically to study — ^in a way that has never been 
 done — ^the ontological consciousness, since its study 
 has been all too crassly undervalued and neglected. 
 
162 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 PHILOSOPHY AND FAITH. 
 
 The relations of Philosophy and Faith are variously 
 regarded. Sometimes philosophy is viewed as actu- 
 ally opposed to faith ; sometimes as necessarily 
 opposed to it ; sometimes philosophy is taken to 
 run up into, and really be, just faith ; and at other 
 times philosophy is viewed as distinct from faith 
 but consonant with it, while functionally different 
 from it. I am myself most in sympathy with this 
 last view of their relations. If we run up philosophy 
 into faith, as Prof. Campbell Eraser did, then, for a 
 " philosophy " of theism, we have instead merely a 
 " faith " of it. Philosophy is the fruit of our theoretic 
 instincts, of that imperious obligation which is ours, 
 to know. But our knowing is not divorced from 
 life ; it is for the guidance and Ulumiaation of life. 
 Philosophy is only a mode of reflection which carries 
 us to greater height, range, and power, than the 
 reflection which guides common life. In philosophy, 
 thought passes out to think of the universe in its 
 deepest and most essential character, and to con- 
 sider it in its totality, not simply iq its parts. The 
 instrument by which philosophy carries out these 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND FAITH 163 
 
 great endeavours is reason. For, so long as we are 
 content to do as most philosophy does, work with 
 the mere understanding or discursive intellect, we 
 shall never reach the highest insights or results in 
 philosophy. These come through the higher reason, 
 which yields a philosophy of insight. It is dis- 
 appointing to find certain philosophers, from whom 
 better things might have been expected, confessedly 
 unable to reahse a distinction so clear and important. 
 For all that Kantians have said, there is still good 
 reason to think that Kant never reaUsed the full 
 significance of reason, far on the way as he may 
 have gone. Pascal had already, amid much that 
 was beneficial in his teachings, done something more 
 to undermine the authority of reason than was at 
 all desirable.^ Eosmini is right in saying that nothing 
 gave Kant greater pleasure than to criticise reason. 
 That has to be considered along with the fact that 
 no one could, on occasion, write more finely on reason 
 than Kant. It is the steadfast consistency of his 
 attitude that is here questioned. It was a quite 
 mistaken view of Kant to subjugate theoretical to 
 practical reason. The cleft or dualism so introduced 
 was in character quite imtenable, and mischievous 
 in result. Kant's treatment of rationally necessary 
 ideas was so different in the two spheres as to con- 
 stitute the most glaring inconsistency. Hegel rightly 
 insisted on distinguishing truly rational thought from 
 mere understanding, with all that this imphed. Eeason 
 is, I must maintain, pre-eminently the philosophical 
 faculty or organ ; one which, determined by prin- 
 
 ^ Cf. J. D. Morell, 'Speculative Philosophy of Kurope,' vol. i. 
 p. 253. 
 
164 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 ciples which inhere in itself, is able to recognise the 
 idea of the Unconditioned as essentially different from 
 all other concepts ; one, too, which enables us to 
 grasp and affirm the reahty of Unconditioned Being, 
 since it perceives the possibility of experience to be 
 conditioned by this very idea of the Unconditioned. 
 Such is the insight of Eeason into the Unconditioned 
 Ground of phenomena, and its power to lay hold on 
 the universal and ideal aspects of reality. From the 
 Eeason we distinguish, but do not entirely separate, 
 the Understanding, which is wont to dwell in lower 
 regions of Lutelligible proof, and to maintain intimate 
 associations with sensational experience. Now the 
 organ of reason has often in its working been sup- 
 posed to conflict with faith. But it is the main- 
 tenance of this chapter that this great faculty of 
 reason, in which intuition and concept are subtly 
 blended, is never really at variance with any true 
 and properly grounded faith. And I may here re- 
 mark that, just as reason and faith are often set in 
 needless and ill-grounded contrast or conflict, so are 
 reason and feeling often set in ill-judged antithesis 
 to each other. But very finely has Prof. J. E. 
 Creighton shewn that feehng can have due and real 
 place accorded to it, in the total functionings of 
 mind, in a much more harmonious fashion than the 
 commonly declared contrast would suggest.^ And 
 the reason is that ui both cases — ^faith and feeliag, 
 for the two must never be confounded — treason is, 
 to aU its modern upholders, a rich, concrete, and 
 living affair, never the abstract reason of the old 
 
 1 See Prof. Creighton's Article on "Reason and Feeling," in 'The 
 Philosophical Review/ September 1921, 
 
PHILOSOPHY ABB FAITH 165 
 
 effete rationalism. These reconcilements of reason 
 and faithj and of reason and feeling, are essential 
 parts of the business of philosophy. 
 
 Let us now turn for a moment to faith. The 
 immense potentialities of faith loom out so largely 
 before us that the principle may well seem to be — 
 as is often urged — somewhat of a fundamental power 
 in life. It is declared to be not only the justifying 
 principle in religion, but the spring of all renovating 
 and sanctifying influence. It has been presented as, 
 in its necessity and power, a principle of all know- 
 ledge and of all achievement — at the base, indeed, 
 of all psychic life. Emerson says : *' It is not what 
 we believe concerning the immortality of the soul 
 or the like, but the universal impulse to believe, that 
 is the material circumstance, and is the principal 
 fact in the history of the globe." So great is faith's 
 place of power within the circuit of man's teleological 
 activity, as influencing activity in every sphere of 
 individual being, that it has sublimated and glorified 
 humanity in its highest representatives, ^ven so 
 sceptical a philosopher as Hume perceived very clearly 
 the fatuity ^of a Pyrrhonist condition of mind, point- 
 ing out how aU action, and aU discourse, would perish 
 and give way to total and destructive lethargy. So 
 true is it that ideals, of every sort, depend, in their 
 dynamogenic quahty, upon belief or faith. " Faith 
 of this sort," said Thomas Hill Green, " is the salt of 
 the earth." 
 
 Faith, in the higher sense, that of trust or confidence, 
 has moral elements in it, and is deeper than the act 
 of the understanding alone. There is an element of 
 commitment in this case which goes beyond what is 
 
166 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 found in the other. But not in this case, any more 
 than in the other, does faith act without grounds, 
 for always and everywhere true faith is grounded in 
 reason, is itseK, one might almost say, the highest 
 reason, since it is the crown and climax of our highest 
 mental activity. True, the horizon of faith extends 
 beyond the scope of our knowledge, but there is 
 neither need nor warrant to oppose it to our know- 
 ledge. Not to knowledge, but to sight, is faith op- 
 posed ; but, whereas sight is a g;eneric^ act, faith is 
 finely individual. Nevertheless, it is in sight that 
 we have the ideal character of faith. In a correct 
 psychological analysis, knowing will, I believe, be 
 found an essential and pre-requisite of faith. It is 
 the warrant of reason — with its knowledge elements — 
 that faith needs and seeks, and not without the 
 warrant of reason is faith vaUd or wise. The value 
 of the act of faith lies not in the mere act itself, 
 but depends upon the grounds on which it is 
 based. Yet Faith is — 
 
 " . . .an affirmation and an act 
 Which bids eternal Truth be present fact." 
 
 The truth is, that reason and faith are so closely 
 interwoven that they must never be too much dis- 
 sociated, but rather regarded as reciprocal and com- 
 plementary of each other. The claims of neither 
 should be regarded as excludiag the other, nor the 
 activities of the one viewed as independent of, or 
 separable from, those of the other. The crede ut 
 intelligas principle, and the other pnnciple, intelUge 
 ut credas, are both inadequate when either is taken 
 by itself ; both principles have place in the mutual 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND FAITH 167 
 
 commerce of faith and reason. We can see how 
 certain philosophers — Leibniz, Pascal, Jacobi, Fichte, 
 &c., — perceiving that reason is a Umited monarch, 
 for it does not absolutely comprehend either itself, 
 or God, or the world, felt the need and room for 
 faith, as we can also imderstand how many philo- 
 sophers have felt the insufficiency, from the side of 
 reason, of a mere faith philosophy. Jacobi — the 
 William James of the eighteenth century — ^is an 
 excellent example of such a faith-philosopher, be- 
 cause of his over-weighted stress on the faculty of 
 faith, to the disparagement of reason in philosophy. 
 But the true idea of his philosophy is not always 
 remembered ; it was that all human knowledge what- 
 soever rests ultimately on faith or intuition. Jacobi 
 was a finer spirit, and an abler and more critical 
 philosopher than is always realised. His caU was for 
 faith in our direct intuition of aU truth. His philoso- 
 phising was, however, of personal and passional tjrpe ; 
 his dislike of theoretic attitude prevented his reahsing 
 anything like a logical system. But his service to 
 philosophy is undoubted. Leibniz, on the other hand, 
 expressly held that reason and faith were equally 
 the gifts of God, and that any insoluble difference 
 between them would be hke setting God against 
 himself. It was therefore not necessary, he wrote, 
 to renounce reason in order to give ear to faith. 
 The critical functions of reason, whereby it follows 
 faith, to criticise, correct, and justify it, have been 
 much more understood and appreciated, than those 
 highly important fimctions of reason, whereby it 
 precedes faith, finds grounds and warrant for its every 
 step, and renders it rational as act or as process. 
 
168 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 The reason of philosophy, and the faith of religion, 
 are wholly compatible with each other. They have 
 always been seen to be so. One of the early Fathers 
 said that faith was " abbreviated knowledge, and 
 knowledge was faith in intelligence-form." But the 
 views then expressed were not always consistently 
 adhered to, and knowledge was apt to be made the 
 end. The Scholastic Doctors held that the use of 
 reason was, the comprehension and demonstration 
 of what was held to be the faith, l^o vital philosophy 
 can be content to remain in the region of the formal, 
 the abstract, the impersonal ; if it did, it would be 
 a mere eaput mortuum. Pure reason in man has its 
 own demands that crave to be satisfied, yet reason 
 cannot effect its philosophic synthesis by the aid of 
 mere concepts. Philosophy may sometimes call itself 
 a science of concepts, but, for all such talk, it has 
 need of beings, and of something higher than itself. 
 Vision is not enough ; there must be an horizon. 
 Philosophy needs data, objects of knowledge. Phi- 
 losophy needs the very things which religion can 
 supply : it needff God in His reality, and in His 
 relations to the world.^ Philosophy and faith are at 
 one in this demand, and rehgion is not in doubt on 
 the matter. The day had to be lived, and its work 
 done, before, as Hegel so finely said, philosophy, the 
 owl of Minerva, set out upon her flight. Yet, though 
 seen only in the deepening dusk, the divine bird, it 
 has been truly said, was always present, and " gave 
 divinity to the whole day." ^ Great was the service 
 
 ^ As to this in early Greek speculation, see F. M. Cornford's * From 
 Religion to Philosophy,' p. 126. 
 2 G. A. Gordon, * Ultimate Conceptions of Faith,' p. 350. 
 
PHILOSOPHY A^B FAITH 169 
 
 of religion, in her manner of replacing the oscilla- 
 tions of philosophic doubt by the repose of reason. 
 Eeason naight else have wandered, rudderless and 
 compassless, in pathetic impotence over the waste 
 waters of speculative thought. But all things became 
 possible to philosophic reason, with God as its primary 
 Given — ^for, as Creative, He must to the finite subject 
 be so given — and Eeal. For Eeason does not claim 
 independent power of her own, but only in organic 
 dependence upon this Absolute Spirit. Under im- 
 pulse from the positive sciences, philosophy developed 
 her conception of the Absolute or World-Ground, with 
 the attributes of power, eternity, and absoluteness. 
 Philosophy, too, seizing on the idea of a Supreme 
 Being, perfected its conceptions of that Being as the 
 Absolute Eeason and the Absolute Will, and con- 
 tinued, by its higher reflection, and in independence 
 of theology, the good work which religion had begun. 
 Eeason — the Absolute Eeason — thus became throned 
 at the centre of the rational universe ; and if you 
 say God is more or other than this, you are stating 
 something of which you have no data, wherefrom 
 to make any affirmation whatsoever. If you conjure 
 up a non-rational or an irrational Being, you in- 
 stantly cease to have any rational hold upon such 
 a Being. The Neo-Platonists held that God was 
 Non-Being, that is, above all our notions of Being. 
 But how could that help us ? Far more sane and 
 rational was the procedure of the Scholastic philo- 
 sophers, who made Being their first or fundamental 
 principle. Philosophy, no more than religion, is con- 
 tent with Deity inaccessible and transcendent ; it 
 finds God immanent in the world, wherein His king- 
 
170 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 dom is being realised. Categories of the reason, no 
 doubt, like those of causation, spontaneity, infinity, 
 are transcendent, but they have their basis in experi- 
 ence : we may through them transcend experience, 
 but not dispense with, or contradict experience. 
 Eeason has faith in itseK, never impeaches itself. 
 Eeason is free within its own territory, which begins 
 where psychological analysis ends. But it has a 
 conformabihty to law of its own. Such is reason to 
 philosophy, and philosophy itself is nothing apart 
 from experience, which it but seeks to comprehend. 
 
 But reason is no more foreign to religion than it is 
 to philosophy, for reUgion has Eeason or Logos : 
 its Logos is hving, personal, spiritual — ^the principle 
 of aU intelligence and of all knowledge : its Logos is 
 the Word, which is with God, and is God. " Without 
 the Logos was not anything made that was made." 
 Pbilo therefore calls Him God's " most ancient Logos." 
 In such ways religion has fecundity and strength for 
 the human spirit, and iadispensably furthers its 
 philosophic essays and syntheses, distinctive as the 
 work of philosophy may be. There is no subservience 
 ia these relations of philosophy : philosophy seeks 
 truth — ^not system merely — and enlarges its insight 
 from every region or quarter in which truth appears. 
 The philosopher who is not open-eyed enough, or is 
 not in his thought and experience deep enough, to 
 do justice to the truths and realities of consciousness 
 — the human consciousness, the moral consciousness, 
 and the reUgious consciousness — and of the Diviae 
 seK-revealings to, and ia, man and the world, is on 
 the high road to metaphysical failure. For only by 
 doing full justice to all these patefactions can the full 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND FAITH 171 
 
 harmony and coherence of truth, at all its levels, be 
 attained. Philosophy, at its fullest, claims to relate 
 all truths of human thought, all truths that are in- 
 volved in, or rest upon, human experience. 
 
 Again, pre-Christian philosophy — Greek Philosophy 
 — is sometimes pointed to as showing how imperfect 
 an organ is reason, in that it was able to accomplish 
 so little, in absence of the light of faith. Well, it 
 goes without sajdng that philosophy has at all times 
 been far enough from being able to dispense with 
 revelation by a stroke of Occam's razor, but the case 
 is often very imperfectly understood. Philosophers 
 like Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle, could, of course, 
 only deal with the ideal content of experience as pre- 
 Christian, but what a wonderfully active function, 
 for all that, reason was in them ; and theirs was not 
 a reason separated from the Divine Eeason or Mind. 
 Neither reason nor revelation allows any such com- 
 plete and mechanical separation between these two 
 as is sometimes supposed. Eeason is always reason 
 — everywhere one and the same. This reason itseK 
 demands. It demands its own participation in the 
 Divine Eeason, which is not only immanent in the 
 world, but, above all, in us. This unity of oux reason 
 with the Divine Eeason, in which we so participate, 
 is real and fruitful in its results. For our reason is 
 not only receptive of the Divine Eeason, but respon- 
 sive to it, and reproductive of it. Nor did such a 
 view fail to hover before the vision of Plato and the 
 Stoics. What the greatest of the Greek philosophers 
 really show is, how much it meant that God had never 
 left Himself without witness in the world. Plato, 
 to whose great vision God was soul and not mere idea, 
 
172 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 was able to say that *' God ought to be to us the 
 measure of all things." " And he who would be dear 
 to God must, as far as possible, be like Him, and such 
 as He is " (' Laws,' 716 C). Aristotle, in his vision 
 of the perfect man, was able to think that our reason 
 is one in character with reason in the Highest. Greek 
 philosophy, says Zeller, was originally called forth, not 
 so much by the desire for knowledge, as by the feel- 
 ing of dependence on higher powers, and the wish 
 to secure their favour. Greek philosophy was a pro- 
 paedeutic for Christian thought or theology, and it 
 was so because the elements of spiritualistic ideahsm 
 in it were such that Christian theology could make 
 use of it, and be in some ways a higher continuation 
 of it. 
 
 During the first Christian centuries men thus 
 rose from grounds that had been laid by Plato, 
 Aristotle, and the Stoics, to the luxuriant Gnostic 
 systems and the Alexandrian wisdom ^ — to the con- 
 ception of God, indeed, as not merely the Father, 
 but as the "very Being, Substance, and Eeason of 
 the world of things and souls." The conceptions of 
 the transcendence of God, which had existed in 
 Philosophy, became transferred to Christianity. But 
 indeed that is not the whole case, for Clement, per 
 contra^ anticipated Plotinus by conceiving God as 
 " beyond the One and higher than the Monad itself," 
 and as having no name that can rightly be applied 
 to Him. Greek philosophy had its own conception 
 of behef or faith : it was of the nature of rational 
 behef, intellectual persuasion, or conviction, rather 
 
 ^ Both dealt with iu chaps, v. and vi. of my * Studies in European 
 Philosophy.' 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND FAITH 173 
 
 than of moral trust.^ Evidences are not wanting 
 of the influence of the Greek conception of faith on 
 the later Jewish conception of it. Especially in Philo, 
 who has been styled by a German scholar " the first 
 great psychologist of religious faith/' there is blended, 
 says Hatch, " the sense in which it is found in the 
 Old Testament with that which is found in Greek 
 philosophy." But Philo not only did much for the 
 conception of faith, he did much for the conception 
 of God, This, although he made God a transcendent 
 Being. He brought Hebrew conception of God into 
 relation with Greek conception of Deity in a way 
 that was to be a lasting influence. For faith was here 
 higher than reason, and Hebrew faith in a Uving 
 God — Creator of all things and Euler of aU men — 
 set a new and higher goal for philosophic reason, 
 since no such notion of Deity had ever entered into 
 Greek conception. Greek deity was but a creation 
 of mind — ^the last deduction of thought, abstract, 
 and impersonal.^ The doctrine of the Logos, with 
 which the Fathers of the second century so greatly 
 concerned themselves, had in it elements that were 
 consonant with elements that had been present in 
 the philosophical world-view. Essentially, the Logos 
 doctrine was a mediation doctrine : it mediated 
 between the absolute and transcendent Deity and 
 the world. And the Logos principle had an important 
 history in Greek philosophy before it was taken up 
 
 1 Cf. E. Hatch, 'The Influence of Greek Ideas, &c./ p. 311 ; also 
 my Discussion on "Aristotle and the Criterion of Truth" in 'The 
 Monist,' July 1921, pp. 470-473. 
 
 2 Cf. my 'Studies in European Philosophy,' ch. iii., on Greek 
 philosophy of religion. 
 
174 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 into Christian thought. The ancestry of the Logos 
 doctrine was thus not Jewish. Heraclitus and the 
 Stoics already had their theory of the Logos.^ Philo 
 stressed the Logos as Creator, Justin the Logos as 
 Eevealer. Justin refers his Logos ideas to Platonic 
 and Stoic authorities. To Athenagoras, God Himself 
 was " spirit, force, logos," and the universe is brought 
 into beiag " through the agency of His own Logos." 
 One of the Logos statements most marked by the 
 influence of philosophical speculation was that of 
 Hippolytus, a disciple of Irenseus. The whole race 
 was viewed as partaker of the Logos. In Christ the 
 whole Logos was taken to be manifest. Hence, not 
 without reason has it been said that "it was the 
 Logos theology that converted the intellect of Europe 
 to Christianity." The Logos doctriae was signifi- 
 cantly a metaphysical and speculative affair, not an 
 historical matter. The central import of the Hebrew 
 development, and the essential view and vision of 
 the Greek mind and spirit, with its constructive 
 genius, had, however, each need of the other. The 
 latter helped Hebrew monotheism, with its theistic 
 fervour and its outlook on Nature, to a more reasoned 
 view or basis. The influence of Greek speculation 
 was seen ia Origen, of whom Porphyry's criticism, 
 that in his notions about God he was Greek, was not 
 without basis. Origen put the Logos doctrine on 
 firmer metaphysical basis. Origen's cosmogonic sys- 
 tem is reaUy a theodicy, and a great one, with a 
 basis of philosophical theism.^ Emanative theory of 
 
 ^ See J. Adam, * Vitality of Platonism,' ch. iii. ; E. V. Arnold, 
 * Roman Stoicism/ p. 161, and elsewhere. 
 
 ^ Cf. my 'Studies in European Philosophy,' ch. viii., on Origen's 
 philosophy. 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND FAITH 175 
 
 the Son, as in Justin Martyr, he replaced by the doc- 
 trine of eternal generation. Augustine was a philo- 
 sophical rationalist, holding reason to be the funda- 
 mental source of knowledge, and he held reasoned 
 views on the problem of faith and reason. He per- 
 ceived the need of reason " anterior to faith," and 
 held that such reason can never be " wholly lacking 
 to faith, because it belongs to it to consider to whom 
 faith should be given." But, these reasonable grounds 
 established, he perceived the sense in which faith 
 might then become precedent — ^namely, that it need 
 not wait on comprehension that should be perfect. 
 Thus to him aU faith presupposed reason, and the 
 act of faith could never be irrational. Whether Pro- 
 fessor J. M. Baldwin's ^ pronounced ascription of 
 Voluntarism to Augustine takes adequate account of 
 the considerations now advanced appears to me 
 very doubtful, even though Augustine carried ITeo- 
 Platonist intellectualistic influence to more deeply 
 ethical issues. Augustine did, no doubt, hold our 
 rehgious knowledge to be conditioned by our ethical 
 state, but already our rational nature plays, to his 
 mind, its part in the process. It is, too, our whole 
 voluntary nature, rather than the will in any narrow 
 sense, he has mainly in view. The first point of all 
 certitude he found in self-consciousness, and this 
 position he reached by his own genius, not by any 
 guidance from Plotinus. The deep influence of the 
 Neo-Platonic philosophy on Augustine, however, goes 
 without sajdng, and in that philosophy the problem, 
 which Christianity then had to solve, reached its 
 most acute stage. But that philosophy could not 
 solve it, having made the chasm between the Infinite 
 
 ^ ' History of Psychology/ vol. i. p. 80. 
 
176 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PBOBLEMS 
 
 and the finite all too complete. That gave the revela- 
 tion of God in Christ its opportunity to overcome 
 the dualism of Greek thought. Whether the thought 
 of that time made the most of its opportunity is 
 another matter. There was still some tendency to 
 leave the nature of God aU too transcendent and 
 inscrutable. Of course the Greek dualism must not 
 be too starkly stated, or too blankly conceived, in 
 forgetfulness of the Platonic idea of a Demiurge, 
 which blossomed later into the Philonic and the ^N'eo- 
 Platonic conceptions of Divine Powers intermediary 
 between God and man. 
 
 It should be observed that, in the Anselroic and 
 Abelardian discussions as to the relative priority of 
 reason and faith, there was agreement, amid all 
 differences, as to their ultimate harmony. This was 
 never in doubt, for it was understood that otherwise 
 the demands of neither reason nor faith would have 
 been satisfied. This is not at aU surprising, when it 
 is remembered that Scotus Erigena had already, in 
 the ninth century, held that it was the same essential 
 spirit that was manifested, in twofold form, in reUgion 
 and in philosophy. It should also be noted that 
 "faith" was, to Aquinas, "an act of the intellect 
 which assents to Divine truth, &c.," a too intellec- 
 tualistic definition of it. But the rationalistic leaven 
 was not without survival even in Calvin and in 
 Locke. When, in the development of Scholasticism, 
 we come to the views of Duns Scotus, we do not 
 indeed find reason and faith antagonistic, but he is 
 critical of reason's place in rehgion. In the stalwart 
 Occam, there is a weU-defined tendency to hold some 
 doctrines as not merely beyond, but contrary to 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND FAITH 177 
 
 reason.^ The separation between reason and faith 
 becomes complete. This assertion of irrational — and 
 not merely super-rational — elements in dogma was a 
 self-destructive one, on the part of Scholasticism. 
 However, having said all these things by way of 
 correcting misapprehensions, and of shewing the need 
 there was to get beyond the " consuetudo credendi," 
 I resume our discussion of the modern aspects. 
 
 In England, Coleridge more than any other writer 
 set matters of reason and of faith in a true Ught. 
 IN'ot only so, but, under the influence of Kant, the 
 distinctions between Eeason and Understanding, and 
 between !N'ature and Spirit. Coleridge wrote, — 
 " Whatever we do or know that in kind is different 
 from the brute creation, has its origin in a determina- 
 tion of the reason to have faith and trust in itself. 
 This is the first act of faith, is scarcely less than 
 identical with its own being." Coleridge's idea of 
 reason had in it elements taken over from Kant and 
 Jacobi, including Kant's distinction of theoretic and 
 practical reason, the latter of which Coleridge strongly 
 stressed. Eeason was to him the mind's eye, with 
 realities as its objects. It was to him organ of the 
 supersensuous, so that truths were apprehended which 
 neither the understanding nor the senses could offer. 
 As to his idea of faith, its first and fundamental sense 
 was fealty, or fidelity. From this, however, he went 
 on to more concrete religious senses of faith. Faith 
 was to Coleridge a synthesis of reason and will : it 
 was an energy and a light. He recognised the highest 
 truths of reason to have need of a will element as 
 
 ^ Cf. my Article on "The Logic and Metaphysics of Occam" in 
 *The Monist/ Oct. 1920, pp. 536-538. 
 
 M 
 
178 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 well as of the understanding. Faith was no distinct 
 facnlty, but a blending of the higher faculties in one. 
 But we must pass into our own time without further 
 prelude. Dr Bradley is certainly no faith-philosopher, 
 but in an article ^ on " Faith " he has essayed to 
 inquire " how philosophy and faith are connected " 
 (p. 165). But he treats the subject, which does not 
 appear a particularly congenial one to him, in a rather 
 clipped, unclear, and incomplete manner, and at the 
 close remarks that " whether we are to assert or deny 
 that philosophy in the end rests on faith, is to my 
 mind of no consequence " (p. 171). He had already 
 said that " so far as philosophy is condemned to act 
 on an imverified principle, it continues to rest upon 
 faith " (p. 171), which is obvious enough and general 
 enough to be Uttle of an elucidation. I shall deal 
 with this presently. What most concerns us now is 
 the fact that philosophy proceeds along the lines of 
 reason, faith along the lines of revelation. But that 
 does not mean that philosophy has nothing to do 
 with faith, or that reason has nothing to do with 
 revelation, and just as little does it mean that faith 
 has nothing to do with reason. It only means that 
 these are the distinctive methodological features of 
 philosophy and faith. Philosophy finds reason to 
 be the highest form and power of intelligence in man ; 
 it finds principles, norms, and laws of reason within 
 him. Philosophy finds this power of reason in man 
 able to interpret the universe in terms of reason — 
 as the expression of rational thought, or the revela- 
 tion of reason. And so philosophy comes at length 
 to find in God, as the Absolute Eeason, the funda- 
 
 ^ 'The Philosophical Review,' March 1911. 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND FAITH 179 
 
 mental reality of the universe. Eeason is not faith, 
 but there is nothing in all this working of reason 
 that is not congruous with faith^ with which it is 
 near of kin. Faith means openness to light — a mark 
 of reason itseK. In faith there is fine intellectual 
 candour, conjoined with equally fine moral simplicity 
 of spirit. Faith*s appeal is to truth itself^ not to 
 authority. If the principle of reason, by which 
 philosophy works, were to be considered, in Bradley's 
 phrase, " an unverified principle," philosophy would 
 be immediately landed in a false position. For, 
 reason being the highest principle in man, it cannot 
 rise above itseK to criticise or verify itself. Eeason 
 shines by its own hght, and has no need of lower 
 forms or methods of verification, which have, in fact, 
 no applicability. Philosophy has faith — ^the faith of 
 reason in itself. Only pure unreason would ask for 
 the reason of reason. It is its own reason ; and it is 
 eternal reason. It is ratio sui, as grounded in the 
 Universal Eeason. There is deep truth imderlying 
 the words of Jodl, that " a world, in which a realm 
 of conscious reason is possible, must count amongst 
 its ultimate constituents, reason itself." The ration- 
 ality and intelligibility of the universe is a necessary 
 pre-supposition of aU knowledge and aU thought. 
 AH scientific thought acts upon it. Eeason is so found 
 by man in the universe, as objective there. Know- 
 ledge gained through reason is selE-certi&ed. 
 
 Another English philosopher, Green, has given us 
 a paper on " Faith," in which he goes more sym- 
 pathetically and deeply into the subject than Bradley, 
 I am only concerned with it so far as it refers to the 
 relations between Eeason and Faith, Green sets up 
 
180 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 a claim for faith like that which I am here setting 
 up for reason — namely, that " in its true nature faith 
 can be justified by nothing but itself." Now, it is, 
 no doubt, true that faith has certainty of its own, 
 but that does not dispense faith from being able to 
 give a reason for itself. A living faith feels a certain 
 impulse towards its own verification, and that in- 
 volves a great deal more than Green reahsed. Faith 
 cannot be wrapped up in itself, but must be concerned 
 with the active knowledge of God and His acts. It 
 need not cling to the historic merely as something 
 past, but find in it present and eternal revealings of 
 Divine thought and will. And the God-affirmation, 
 " in all its width, is a virile affirmation ; it is the 
 strength by which the strong man lives." ^ Green 
 says faith is '' a primary formative principle, which 
 cannot be deduced or derived from anything else." 
 But he overlooks that reason is involuntary, whereas 
 it is of the nature of the essential faith of Christianity 
 that it must be voluntary. He also overlooks that 
 faith is derivative in that it depends upon Another 
 in whom its trust is placed. Green's faith is still too 
 intellectual in character, he does not give the ethical 
 element due place. He says reason is the " source 
 of faith " — a very incomplete account of it. To 
 make faith but a part of reason is only to introduce 
 needless confusion, and keep faith from being ade- 
 quately defined. I do not forget, in saying this, that 
 even John Henry Newman said that " Faith is a 
 process of the Eeason, &c.," when he showed how 
 largely faith was implicit reason, but not so success- 
 fully as he might have done, what genuine reason — 
 
 1 S. S. Laurie, * Synthetica,' vol. ii. p. 21. 
 
PHILOSOPHY AJSTD FAITH 181 
 
 or even reasoning — underlies all faith. But in the 
 whole present connection, the obvious need is to dis- 
 tinguish faith from reason, not to confound or identify 
 it with reason. It is not a happy treatment when 
 Green, speaking of our rational self-consciousness, 
 says "it is an element of identity between us and a 
 perfect Being," and goes on to speak of the sense 
 in which " Eeason issues in the life of Faith." But 
 if Green got " identity " between God and man, there 
 would be no religion. The reUgious relation pre- 
 supposes both difference and unity. If there were 
 only difference — and no relation — there would again 
 be no religion. That union which men call reUgion 
 is a synthesis of the two factors, God and man, as 
 we shall see in our next chapter. 
 
 Being is the object of knowledge, which is mainly 
 concerned with materials given. For philosophy, 
 the fundamental concept of the world, in its unity, 
 is the absolute — the Absolute Being or Spirit, at once 
 the Absolute Eeason and the Absolute Will. Between 
 such philosophical thought or knowledge and faith- 
 experiences — I mean, of course, religious experience — 
 there need be no rupture or disunion, if the faith- 
 experiences or Erlebnisse do not rest on illusion, but 
 on grounds of objective truth. For faith, even re- 
 Ugious faith, should always be rational, and carry 
 with it the activity of the ontological consciousness, 
 whose grasp is upon all truth of being or reaUty. 
 But faith is of man's whole soul, and in the God Who 
 is the object of such faith is sxunmed the soul's highest 
 Ideals — ^iateUectual, ethical, and sesthetical. Although 
 there may be much in the iavolved faith-experiences, 
 with their will and feeling values, which is not easily 
 
182 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 presented in perfect or adequate manner in terms of 
 reason, yet reason's scrutiny extends to all, takes 
 account of all, and nothing supervenes of the nature 
 of conflict or opposition between philosophy and 
 faith. The soul of man — his rational and spiritual 
 nature — is big enough to have need of both, and they 
 can dwell in perfect harmony within the soul's dynamic 
 unity. Just as we have seen that faith is of man's 
 entire soul, so is reason the power of man's whole 
 mind. The life of the mind, at its fullest compass, 
 finds its most complete expression in the life of reason. 
 For reason is no abstract, independent, separate 
 faculty, in the narrow sense often taken, but is ex- 
 pressive of the whole mind — of mind as the most 
 universal priaciple or capacity in man. This is not 
 to say that reason is the whole essence of man, as 
 though he had not will and sentiment, but it is to 
 affirm reason as chief condition of all that is highest 
 in our powers and activities. Such reason is neither 
 outside, nor above, experience, as traditional ration- 
 alism often supposed. Eeason is reason, and faith is 
 faith, yet do they so interlace and imperceptibly 
 shade off into each other, that you cannot say that, 
 in the upper reaches of the spirit, " never the twain 
 shall meet." And yet reason, which is eternal, has 
 not become dissolved, however it may seem to be 
 so. Faith, too, for that matter, must endure so long 
 as does God's iafinitude. 
 
 I have been dealing hitherto with matters of 
 method, but must now touch more on matters of 
 content. But first let it be said that there have 
 been few more hopeful signs in recent thought than 
 the drawing together of philosophy and her elder 
 
PHILOSOPHY A^B FAITH 183 
 
 sister, religion. Asperities have been softened, an- 
 tagonisms removed. There have been harmonies of 
 aim and result, while retaining divergence of process 
 and method. Philosophy has ennobled the spirit of 
 rehgion ; religion has reinforced the strength of 
 philosophy. Each has been seen to be necessary to 
 the other ; each has, at times, mistakenly tried to 
 absorb the other. Philosophy has no deeper problems 
 than that craving for absolute values in the sphere 
 of truth, and that demand for ultimate spirituality, 
 which rehgion carries with it. For the philosopher, 
 no less than for the religionist, the fundamental reality 
 of the imiverse can only be spirit : its highest energy 
 can be no other than that of spirit. Philosophy 
 finds God to be the prius of the imiverse — ^its Ultimate 
 Ground and the Fundamental EeaUty. But it knows 
 Him not only as He reveals Himself in the universe, 
 but also as He reveals Himself in man's self-conscious- 
 ness, and in his religious consciousness. The Absolute 
 Being, it is assured, can be no less than personal 
 spirit : the personal and self-conscious alone can 
 love. For philosophy and religion alike, the acme 
 of personality is in God ; and, for both, personality 
 is the highest blossoming of man's conscious spiritual 
 life. 
 
 The presupposition of any religious grounding on 
 the inner side of religion clearly lies in the spiritual 
 nature, affinities, and possibilities of man — a nature 
 to which the spiritual world is the great reality, a 
 reahty that is being built up by his creative energies 
 and activities in their part and measure. The 
 reality, inwardness, and depth of the spiritual life 
 itself, or in its essence, is that which this spiritually 
 
184 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 creative religion must raaintain. But, while religion 
 solves, in its own practical way, the difference between 
 the Deity and man, philosophy has its own call to 
 explain this very problem. As Hegel (in one of his 
 letters) remarks, " Philosophy seeks to apprehend by 
 means of thought, the same truth which the re- 
 ligious mind has by faith." Eeligion has no more 
 urgent need than to be lifted above the workings of 
 the merely subjective and individual, narrowly 
 human, affective, and practical self, into the lofty 
 sphere of the universal. There the broadest culture 
 is realised, and the vast whole of life and reahty — or 
 of human possibility — is apprehended. 
 
 These are services in which philosophy stands 
 always ready to render her invaluable help. Philo- 
 sophy and religion coalesce in their aim — each to 
 produce in its own way, a new world out of the 
 warring elements that go to make up the world that 
 is. For philosophy does not merely, as is so often 
 said, interpret the world of reahty, but, in so doing, 
 also lays open a new world — a World of thought — 
 hidden from the senses. !N"o notion is more mistaken 
 than that which supposes that metaphysical inquiry 
 — which can do so much to exphcate and illuminate 
 the real bases of reUgion — is inimical to the interests 
 of faith. The new world of rehgion is that of spiritual 
 creation, in which the new-creating power of love 
 is supremely seen in ever-brightening, ever- developing 
 forms of spiritual personahty. Eeligion seeks the 
 truth ; the truth which for it stands above all other 
 truth, is love. Lange, the historian of materialism, 
 proposed a "religion without faith" — a rehgion of 
 ideals to which there need correspond no objective 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND FAITH 185 
 
 actualities — no objective truth, in which "we must 
 beheve. But this sceptical attitude towards objective 
 truth must speedily end — ^not in anything that can 
 be called reUgioUj but in pure illusionism. Faith, on 
 the other hand, carries within itself the conviction 
 that its objects exist — objectively, that is to say. 
 Philosophy too seeks the truth : it finds it in that 
 thought or reason which is able to survey all religious 
 feeling, to probe the contents of our deepest experi- 
 ence, and to reduce all to harmony. 
 
 What does philosophy imply *? A survey of reality 
 of the most universal sort, in which the great verities 
 and transactions of religion take their necessary 
 place. And what does religion import ? A fact world- 
 wide in its manifestations ; it means the reality of 
 the supersensible world, the kingdom of God's infinite 
 love and grace set up amongst men here and now. 
 On the historic field, the supreme certainty and in- 
 comparable excellence of this new world are brought 
 near to us in the personality of the man Christ Jesus. 
 Eeligion finds it new, and philosophy proves it true. 
 
 Belated philosophy and faith most closely are, as 
 we have seen, in their aims and ends ; but each 
 retains a spirit, and pursues a path of its own. The 
 harmonies of religion and philosophy arise only as 
 faith is rational, and as reason is beheving. Kant had 
 a clear perception that, in this rational element, 
 religion had its closest approximation to philosophy, 
 even though many things may yet exist beyond the 
 ken of reason pure and simple. Eeligion concerns 
 itseK with the whole man — mind, heart, and will — 
 and is, from the psychological standpoint, mder and 
 richer than philosophy, which, strictly regarded, is 
 
186 GREAT PHILOSOPHICAL PROBLEMS 
 
 confined to the working of intellect. Not that philo- 
 sophy does not take cognisance of the things of 
 feeling and wiU, but that it does so in broadly theoretic 
 fashion, even as to values. Jacobi made it impossible 
 to treat feeling, as Schopenhauer made it impossible 
 to treat wiU, with stupid neglect ; while Hegelian 
 ideahsm had the merit of teaching how better to 
 express feeling in terms of thought. Religion, too, 
 may in its own measure become philosophic, and 
 inquire into the laws, limits, and processes of our 
 thinking, as philosophy teaches us to do. But while 
 philosophy maintains a theoretic attitude and rational 
 relation, religion is distinguished by its more practical 
 relation of spiritual obedience to higher principle or 
 personality. So, then, philosophy shows us the truth ; 
 religion gives us life. 
 
 But, again, they are not so sundered as they look ; 
 for truth is for life, and Ufe is for truth. So at least 
 we choose to put the case. Indeed, the religious 
 demand of obedience is nowhere more finely realised 
 than in loyal surrender to the truth, in accordance 
 with philosophic emphasis. Man is not less bound 
 to know than he is to love ; but, however his know- 
 ledge may have worth in itself, truth and love, re- 
 ligiously, must always in him co-exist. For the whole 
 possibihties of his nature must be realised, and there 
 is no real duahsm between knowledge and Hfe. Phil- 
 osophy and religion are both concerned with one 
 vast inquiry, that of ultimates or first principles ; 
 such ultimates, respectively, as the Primal Ground, 
 and the person of the Christ. Does philosophy, then, 
 differ from rehgion, by finding that our increased 
 sense of the vitaUty of the universe, and our deepened 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND FAITH 187 
 
 hold on the immanence of the life of Deity, have 
 weakened faith in the Personahty of God ? By no 
 meanSj for true philosophy disclaims impersonahty 
 no less decidedly than does faith or religion. The 
 scientific habit of mind is called to deal with aspects 
 of the cosmos that may not make faith in the Abso- 
 lute Personahty easy, but a higher rationality will 
 transcend that habit of mind. For it will perceive 
 that, though science may have no need of our spiritual 
 hypotheses, there are deeper reasons for holding them. 
 Philosophy, no less than religion, decisively rejects 
 the sufficiency of certain belauded forms of imman- 
 ence in our time. Because God is in the world, the 
 world is absurdly deified, and reaUy set above Him. 
 The world-idea is taken as the highest rehgious idea, 
 with which the God-idea is made identical, and so 
 a pantheistic rehgious content is offered us. As if, 
 the universe being, so to speak. His environment, 
 He were not free to transcend it ! Whatever worlds 
 there may be, they all faU within the scope of God's 
 agency and activity. But they are not commensurate 
 with Him. They do not exhaust the possibilities of 
 Absolute Being. Immanent within them He is as 
 their sustaining principle, but He is not measured 
 by them, is still transcendent of them. For He 
 exceeds all that finite mind can conceive, however 
 expansive and progressive that mind may be. Hence 
 the utter inadequacy of such theories as a complete 
 explanation of the universe. This pre-eminence of 
 immanence is claimed so strongly in some extreme 
 ideaUstic presentations, that God is reduced to com- 
 plete subservience to a conception of His relation to 
 the universe, in which He — supposedly the Absolute 
 
188 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 Personality — ^is denied such power of free initiative, 
 as men should deem it monstrous to deny to per- 
 sonality in ourselves. The fundamental lack in such 
 cases is grasp of the imphcates of a real conception 
 of God. l^^either reUgious faith nor true philosophy 
 must for a moment falter in claiming for God all the 
 possibihties so involved in Absolute Personahty, 
 working in perfect freedom. Philosophy and faith 
 are both fatuous and blind, t£ they do not see that 
 just upon the basis of such divine possibilities must 
 rest the whole religious superstructure of fact, doc- 
 trine, and ideal. 
 
 Philosophy, for aU that has now been said, joins 
 with faith in marataining that no mere Being of 
 transcendent order is sufficient to set up religion for 
 us. Such a Being has not yet worth or value for us. 
 So comes it that, by His ethical being and working, 
 He must enter into real relation with us. A higher 
 world He sets up within the world we see, and, above 
 all, within the life of man. Immanence and tran- 
 scendence are correlative terms ; neither is to be 
 held in isolation from, or tadependence of, the other. 
 Both deism and pantheism have fallen tato this mis- 
 take. It is not spatial separation that is suggested 
 by the terms immanence and transcendence, nor 
 anything quantitative. But iE we hold them together 
 — as a unity — ^it is a unity in difference, and the 
 difference is not to be overlooked in the imity. But 
 then, it is said, such transcendence as there is is 
 only an inference from immanence, and so is a 
 " secondary " consideration. I^ow, no doubt, God 
 pervades the universe as we know it. But, by what 
 right shall we make immanence, rather than tran- 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND FAITH 189 
 
 scendence, the real note of the Divine relationship 1 
 By what right shaU we make events of one order — 
 an order " deriving from Divine necessity ? " Be- 
 cause God is in the world, and all things are through 
 Him and to Him, are we therefore to deny that He 
 is before and above aU things, for that He was before 
 them ? And is the order of events so necessitated 
 that His voUtional working no more raises Hinn 
 above and beyond the world *? For our relative finite 
 experience, the transcendence remains so real, and, 
 in view of the just demands of thought, so necessary, 
 that we must claim for it the primacy, and refuse 
 to make it only a " secondary " consideration. For 
 what is the immanence ? It is the immanence of the 
 Transcendent. No reason is there, however, why the 
 Divine Life should be a segregated thing, as in some 
 deistic sort, instead of the Divine Personality being 
 for us renewed or rejuvenated in the life universal. 
 For He is not transcendent in any sense that keeps 
 Him from being the One in Whom our being is 
 grounded. 
 
 Certain forms of idealism have held that a world 
 without God is irrational, and that a God without the 
 world would be equally irrational. It is perhaps 
 enough that we do not know the one without the 
 other ; but we can, and must, think of God as having 
 a life of His own, and existtag in and for Himself. 
 Working in freedom. He works in, but also upon, 
 the world. Not from the outside only does He work, 
 for He is ever within the universe. But He is free 
 to work upon it, as also above it, in His transcendent 
 love and power. These things make His seK-reveahngs 
 possible. And the possibilities must be infinitely 
 
190 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PBOBLEMS 
 
 great, as He is infinitely free so to work. Hence 
 arise spiritual facts, events, transactions, in the his- 
 toric field. The presence of God in the universe, 
 then, does not keep us from distinguishing Him from 
 the universe, and maintaining for Him, as supra- 
 mundane and self-existing Subject, an existence in 
 and for Himself. TiU then. He is not God. 
 
 The rehgious consciousness renders here, in my 
 view, the highest service towards the clarifying of 
 philosophical thought, when it shows how much the 
 rehgious interest owes to this very transcendence of 
 Deity ; since it is in the ceaseless iateraction of 
 immanence and transcendence that our spiritual hfe 
 becomes fiUed with its deepest and richest contents. 
 And, indeed, I ask, — Must we cast the rehgious con- 
 sciousness into the abyss, as the price we pay for 
 immanence ? Such a procedure is not in the line 
 of true philosophy. The truth is, a supplementing 
 or completiag of one-sidedness is here the real need. 
 Time was when, in Oriental thought, transcendence 
 assumed overbalancing proportions, and the world 
 side receded ; while the same result happened to 
 Occidental thought, but in less theoretic and more 
 practical form. 
 
 But now we see immanence overbalancing, alike on 
 the sides of man and of the world ; while the Diviae 
 is shunted always more. Yet the transcendence can 
 never be one-sided, so long as man maintains the 
 community with God which belongs to him. What is 
 reaUy needful and perfectly practicable is, to do 
 justice to both these moments, or to seek out some 
 higher conscious unity which shall mean the harmony 
 or agreement of both. So shall we have advanced 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND FAITH 191 
 
 far forward in the solving of the mystery. For 
 then, out of the very manifoldness of the question 
 will have sprung a deeper answer, as each phase is 
 allowed to exercise a properly modifjong influence 
 on the other. The self-existent and Infinite Being 
 is not to be thought under spatial and mechanical 
 categories, but under conceptions vital, dynamic, 
 spiritual. His immanence in man is no mere natural 
 immanence, but ethical and spiritual. Man knows 
 his unity with God, but distinguishes his own activity 
 from God's in this unity. Truth must ever be kept 
 before us as a unity. Philosophy, in one sense, is no 
 more than a part of that whole of truth in which we 
 believe. Whether it be truth of reUgion or truth of 
 philosophy, it is one truth in which we believe — 
 truth self-consistent and all-embracing. It is the 
 eternal reality and infinite objectivity of truth in 
 which, whether in the religious or in the philosophical 
 aspect, we beheve. So we come to know the depth 
 of the saying, Veritas fortior omnibus. And Goethe 
 said, " The greatest blessing that can befaU a think- 
 ing man is to fathom what can be fathomed, and 
 silently to adore the unfathomable." But that un- 
 f athomed world, which lies beyond reality, as we know 
 it, and try to exhaust it, is a world which calls for 
 faith, for truth, and for reverence, for its philosophical 
 investigation also. For the philosopher reads the 
 highest phases of his own being into the Divine or 
 transcendent essence, and will reflect therein his own 
 truth-seeking and ethicaUy-formed personality. The 
 feeling of awe and reverence in presence of the In- 
 finite falls upon rehgionist and philosopher alike, only 
 the feeling objectifies itseK in the conceptual products 
 
192 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMB 
 
 of the philosopher's mind. These philosophical formu- 
 lations are yet but transient and accidental features 
 of religion. The truth is, philosophy and religion must 
 neither of them be dependent on the other ; yet just 
 as little can they be separated from each other. 
 
 Deep laid in human nature is the necessity for each 
 of them. Man's religious instincts crave that he shall 
 have eternal life ia the midst of time — shall find 
 something really and permanently valuable persist- 
 ing through every change and transformation. Philo- 
 sophy is a necessity of man's mental life, which other- 
 wise should remain lacking ia clearness, depth, and 
 vision. Our religious beliefs are no products of 
 philosophy, for faith springs out of life. But philo- 
 sophy may judge of our beUefs — of their psychological 
 possibility, ethical significance, and epistemological 
 validity. And, indeed, the subjective necessity which 
 our understanding feels before the truth, as evidenced 
 to us, is often a more helpful and more easily available 
 criterion for us than the objective evidence itself. 
 
 Philosophy, it has been said, can bake no bread, 
 but she can give us God, freedom, and immortaUty. 
 Well, the bread will be found without her ; and it is 
 not by bread alone — or even chiefly — that man lives 
 the higher life of the spirit. But i£ philosophy should 
 be thought able to give us in any manner these three, 
 they are at least guaranteed to us by religion. It 
 is because religion puts us ia possession of a real and 
 reasonable freedom of the will, that philosophy must 
 stiU find a place for the reahties of indeterministic 
 experience. I have dealt with this so fully elsewhere 
 that I shall say but little now.^ 
 
 1 In my ' Philosophical System of Theistic Idealiem, ' ch. ix. 
 
PHILOSOPHY ANB FAITH 193 
 
 One is compelled to differ here from so able and 
 interesting an ethical philosopher as the late Prof. 
 Paulsen. His procedm-e is a curious one, though 
 not by any means pecuhar to him among modern 
 philosophers. He will have nothing to do with the 
 freedom of the will in a metaphysical sense, which, 
 by the way, he, like many others, does not very 
 fairly or correctly represent. " Ethics should not 
 permit," he tells us, '* the whimsical attempts of a 
 few metaphysicians " to foist such a sense of free- 
 will upon us. And, after finely endeavouring to show 
 the freedom of the -will to mean " the faculty to deter- 
 mine one's life, independently of sensuous impulses 
 and inclinations, by reason and conscience, according 
 to purposes and laws," he goes on to say, that " no 
 one has ever doubted " that inan " has .such a facidty," 
 and that " this reaUy constitutes the very essence of 
 man." But did it not occur to him that those " meta- 
 physicians " also might be among those who " never 
 doubted " this aspect of the subject, so far as it goes ? 
 Did he not see that he really begs the whole ques- 
 tion ? The question is, — ^Are the facts and phenomena, 
 on which they rely, real, and sufficient to warrant the 
 postulation of the metaphysical view ? Or, to put 
 it otherwise, — ^Are there facts and phenomena of ex- 
 perience for which Paulsen's views are an insufficient 
 and inadequate explanation ? If so, the whimsicality 
 lies in not allowing them due weight and place, and 
 the appeal to number is a worthless criterion in 
 matters of the truth. Training, disciphne, habit, 
 heredity, resolution, environment, character, delibera- 
 tion, — ^who does not lay as real a stress on these as 
 did Paulsen ? But they do not exhaust the case for 
 
 N 
 
194 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 freedom of the wiU ; and, if philosophy cannot bring 
 her teaching into accord with the conspicuous and 
 ever-recurring phenomena presented by rehgion, then 
 so much the worse will it be for philosophy. My 
 conscious hfe has unity as it fulfils my purpose. That 
 purpose is not " I " — as is sometimes said — ^but be- 
 longs to me, in the working out or realising my self- 
 determination, which is freedom. But in this sphere 
 of " purpose," freely realised, we are in the meta- 
 physical region, Paulsen's dogmatism notwithstand- 
 ing. For have we got rid of metaphysical conception 
 when we talk of " character " in this connection. 
 
 No doubt our freedom is a conditioned one, bounded 
 by the developments of our original individuahty, 
 and by our being in Nature, while transcending it. 
 But what we are concerned to see is that the aspects 
 of solidarity do not swamp individual hfe and freedom 
 in an unjust determinism. We can just as well as 
 determinism lay full stress on psychological exercises 
 and conditions. But, only as person is man free and 
 responsible. And freedom is the only adequate form 
 of the reaUsation of the ethical. What one most of 
 all complains of in many theorisings is the way in 
 which the no doubt relative but real, incalculable, 
 element in man's seK or character is neglected ; so 
 that room is not left for those free, unexpected moves 
 of will upward, to which all rehgious history and 
 experience, trumpet-tongued, testify. This incal- 
 culable element has no right to be treated as though 
 it were a mere chance element, for the result is 
 reached along the highest lines of reason, amid the 
 contingency involved. Only in deadening philoso- 
 phies is the universe a closed system, instead of an 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND FAITH 195 
 
 open one, with room for real possibilities. Free 
 beings, in virtue of these possibilities, represent an 
 infinite value, a fact which determinists fail to realise. 
 Freedom is man's inalienable ideal ; and every theory- 
 mocks at man which denies him the power to realise 
 this ideal. 
 
 Our deterministic philosophers have missed their 
 way ; they merely tell us, As is the tree, so will be 
 the fruits. But they have lost the real point, which 
 is. Make the tree good, and the fruit will be good. 
 By which it must be remembered, that it belongs to 
 man to say which kind of tree he will be. He is lord 
 of his life, of his wiU, and may choose what the 
 result of his planting will be — a unique privilege. In 
 the strength of this freedom, metaphysical and ethical, 
 man can think and act as he will. It should in every 
 case be true of him, that he is a new thought of God. 
 It is of our own default that " we are born originals, 
 and die copies." Yet freedom is achievement, not 
 merely gift. On his originative power does man's 
 responsibility rest. His is a free, but not unmotived, 
 willing : will and motive are active together, and must 
 not be disjoined. What I contend is, that before 
 every act of will there is a primary cause — ^the self 
 that may and should be free. The will enjoys lord- 
 ship over the motive, and must not be thought to 
 give way to some unavoidable compiQsion before it. 
 Practice makes perfection, and the morally ripe or 
 perfect man is one who has the mastery over his own 
 will. 
 
 It ought to be now evident how absurd and unfair 
 it is to speak of the Libertarian view as holding by 
 the causelessness of the will or volition, as if an 
 
196 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 absolute beginning were postulated in its notion of 
 the originative power of will. It is a beginning in 
 no such absolute sense ; that were a manifest absurdity ; 
 there are limitations, both objective and subjective, 
 to our freedom ; we are creative, but not the Creator, 
 on Whose power we are dependent. No one supposes 
 the will to be completely independent of all ante- 
 cedents. What the indeterminist view maintains is 
 just this, that, in presence of all necessary condi- 
 tions, the will can determine itself quite otherwise 
 than as of necessity, or can hold itself in suspense. 
 With what clearness I am conscious of my own 
 thought, with the same clear consciousness do I 
 know my own freedom of will. Thinking and willing 
 have consciousness of their own free action through 
 all the world's history, so that freedom has become 
 a universally recognised fact. 
 
 Paulsen is therefore mistaken in taking free will 
 to be merely a fruit of Scholasticism. The Scholastics 
 took the doctrine from the hands of the universal 
 consciousness of himaanity and of the individual ; 
 to them it was sometimes freedom of choice, some- 
 times that very freedom from impulses not consonant 
 with reason, which Paulsen enforces. Why should 
 we not distinctly own that our inner experience shows 
 to us that, between motives and the resolutions of 
 our wills, there is no such constant connection as 
 outward observation finds existing between causes 
 and their effects ? The only necessity here lies in 
 what is for reason a necessity. If the connection 
 were the same as that which obtains in physical 
 necessity, we should be the subjects of a grinding 
 fatalism. But in moral necessity and physical neces- 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND FAITH 197 
 
 sity, not only are the terms different, but the nature 
 of the connection itself is different in character. 
 Stirling even says, "Physical necessity is the only 
 necessity, and moral necessity is freedom." 
 
 We have no right to allow the most evident facts 
 of our inner experience to be flatly contradicted by 
 deterministic hjrpotheses. Determinism is no more 
 true philosophically than it is religiously, nor is it 
 stimulative of moral progress. The subject demands 
 emphasis ; for the free-will problem, say what men 
 will, retains a fundamental significance for ethical 
 philosophy, as it does for religion, seeing such freedom 
 contradicts both present-day pantheism and material- 
 ism. Emerson, in his essay on ' Experience,' memor- 
 ably showed how impossible it is " that the creative 
 power should exclude itself " from access to the 
 mind and heart of man, by reason of any chains of 
 physical necessity, the supposed enchainment of the 
 will, a mere "nightmare." Our theory of freedom 
 must be of no mere Pelagian sort, but such as will so 
 meet the amazing assertiveness of man's free-will in 
 every phase and type of human experience, that 
 even those manifold and ever-recurring instances, 
 where tremendous moral conflict and deepest self- 
 discovery have obtained, shall be truly and adequately 
 represented in it. 
 
 Then there is the question of immortality, which 
 also I have dealt with elsewhere.^ Eehgion has 
 asserted the necessity of this behef always more 
 confidently in our time, spite of loud proclamations 
 of the loss of personal immortahty from the extreme 
 evolutionary side. This truth has for religion been 
 
 1 Op. cit., ch. xi. 
 
198 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 no mere product of authoritative revelation, but also 
 an outcome of man's natural growth and reasonable 
 development, when these have come to their highest. 
 In the heart of man, the world over, has been an 
 innate drawing towards a higher form of existence. 
 
 *' Here sits he, shaping wings to fly ; 
 His heart forebodes a mystery ; 
 He names the name Eternity." 
 
 Faith has felt the deep unalterable necessity that 
 progress run on beyond the guK of the grave, until 
 perfection be reached by the race in the unity which 
 is in the World-Eedeemer. For it grows always more 
 certain that here on earth perfection is not to be 
 attained. Our religious consciousness cannot escape 
 the belief in the persistence and permanence of the 
 soul or self. It has an inexpugnable conviction that 
 here we are tending to that vast city of God, whose 
 scale is infinite beyond compare. The Absolute is 
 the Absolute, and I do not at any rate know any 
 reason why we should grow faint in heart or stagger 
 in unbehef before His eternal and illimitable purposes. 
 But philosophy, though sometimes halting and re- 
 calcitrant, when not loudly denying the fact of the 
 future life, is often enough a real ally of religion in 
 proclaiming and expounding the truth of human im- 
 mortality. And only personal immortality has moral 
 value. But even the undeveloped soul is the seat of 
 potential value. The prime urgency of the soul is 
 to win value — to develop soul. For what would be 
 the worth of continued and unending existence apart 
 from value ? All worthy thought of immortality 
 connects it with God, not our own souls merely. 
 We are sometimes told in these days that we may 
 
PHILOSOPHY ANB FAITH 199 
 
 discard personal immortality, and rest ourselves on 
 evolution of Darwinian or Bergsonian type. I speak 
 not of the immeasurable loss we should sustain by 
 doing anything of the kind, but I declare my firm 
 belief that, where the spiritual personality and the 
 ethical individuality of the man are satisfactorily 
 developed, he will be content with no evolutionary 
 development which does not fuUy admit or provide 
 for that form of spiritual expansion which is known 
 as personal immortaUty, For such a developed soul 
 knows that God in His prevenient grace is both before 
 and above such evolution. 
 
 Philosophy here plants its feet on the primal cer- 
 tainties of our being, and the elemental conditions 
 and implications of spirit, and of value. How shoidd 
 our ethical philosophy feel otherwise than that a 
 moral universe by its very nature demands a moral 
 end, even the survival and perfection of the human 
 spirit ? Philosophy finds such a beUef not strictly 
 demonstrable — since it lies, objectively, beyond actual 
 human experience — ^but yet rationally necessary and 
 necessarily rational. !N"ot all philosophy, however, 
 rises to such heights — not the philosophy that 
 lives in argument on the level of the logical under- 
 standing alone — but — 
 
 ** Philosophy baptised 
 In the pure fountain of eternal love 
 Has eyes indeed." 
 
 Such a philosophy is inexorably driven to believe in im- 
 mortaUty : the inherent ethical necessities of the case 
 compel its beUef , and there is, besides, a metaphysical 
 value of conviction, overlooked by most writers, to 
 whose significance I have elsewhere drawn attention. 
 
200 GREAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 Philosophies may remain which treat the belief as 
 a chimera, or so much meaningless jargon ; but that 
 weakens none of the groimds of the belief. It only 
 argues a certain defect of vision or lack of moral 
 profundity in the philosophies that know it not. It 
 is religion which has made the task of philosophy 
 doubly difficult in cases where this latter would make 
 man merely mortal, and rob his individual and self- 
 conscious personality of all hope of permanence. Our 
 forecastings or foreshadowings of immortaUty are, in 
 depth, strength, and volume, just what the whole 
 variegated facts of life and experience have, in their 
 cumulative force, made them. The belief in immor- 
 tality is always a fruit of the finest experience and 
 the greatest purity and nobihty of life. 
 
 The theoretic moulds of language never can be 
 made to contain, in any adequate form, the vaticina- 
 tions and convictions inwrought in such life-experi- 
 ence. And who, seeing more than he can give grounds 
 for, has yet seen the whole ■? It is not now a question 
 of where, and with what environment, that future life 
 will be ; but it is, that living faith and true philosophy 
 both point to the need and certainty of such life, 
 alike as necessary completion of the present, and as 
 necessary aim of the universe. The future or eternal 
 life is not absolutely other than the life that now is ; 
 here and now eternal life is ours, in the midst of 
 time. In and through the hfe that is, we know the 
 life that is to come. It is thus much more sure and 
 real to us than its mere revelation to us from without 
 would have made it. ^N'ever shall those problems of 
 God, freedom, and immortality, towards which re- 
 ligion continually runs out, be solved by the highest 
 
PHILOSOPHY AND FAITH 201 
 
 thought or culture without the aid of philosophy. 
 The idea and essence of religion, its relation to other 
 domains, its theory of the universe and of reality, 
 its conception and ideal of life, — ^these all require the 
 aid of philosophy, if religion is to be thoroughly 
 justified at the bar of scientific reason and conscience, 
 Eeligion sets before faith the highest type and 
 example, bidding us follow in spirit, not merely in 
 letter. But philosophy helps faith realise the great 
 idea of end — end supreme — whose unifying and vital- 
 ising conception binds into living oneness the manifold 
 activities of life. Eeligion, in the scientific view and 
 treatment of it, must embrace the whole of experience, 
 both inner and outer, in which universal character 
 philosophy will be found its fast ally and firm con- 
 federate. For it, too, will be foimd striving mightily 
 against the materiahsm and religious indifference of 
 the time, and laying the foundations of an ideahsm, 
 in which faith will be able to thrive and prosper. 
 Together, they will thus encompass the harmonious 
 blending of faith and modern knowledge, and set the 
 basal thoughts of religion and of true philosophy be- 
 fore men as Uving things — things of to-day. Enough 
 has surely been said in justification of the thesis with 
 which I set out — namely, the distinctness of philosophy 
 and faith, and yet their entire compatibiUty and com- 
 plete harmony. For, to the positions of rational and 
 well-grounded faith, philosophy is in no sense inimical. 
 Faith, for all its truth- contents, is characteristically 
 inwardness ; and with these truth-contents, in rela- 
 tion to all other truths, philosophy has to do, placing 
 and relating and harmonising all in a final unity or 
 whole of truth. 
 
202 
 
 CHAPTER VIL 
 
 THE UNITY OF GOD AND MAN. 
 
 In treating this subject as a problem from the philo- 
 sophical standpoint, I shall make that free iise of 
 religious elements or factors which is necessary to 
 the elucidation of the subject. The basis of such 
 union of man with God, and of God with man, as 
 is possible, must be found in the nature of God — 
 in what He is, and what He requires. The nature of 
 that union may be described as the life of God in 
 the soul of man. That is a mystical imion, it will 
 be said. But I neither court nor shun all mysticism ; 
 a philosopher's business is with truth ; I only aver 
 what the open-minded cannot deny, that the inner life 
 and vigour of true religion have always been, more 
 or less, of the nature of mysticism. Even Bossuet 
 acknowledged a " safe " mysticism, as he termed it. 
 The study of such unity of God and man has, as has 
 long been known, its own requirements ; it requires 
 the soul to form an idea of Him, whom it seeks to 
 know ; it requires it to frame some adequate con- 
 ception of that Divine greatness and moral splendour 
 to which it seeks to unite itself ; and it demands of 
 it a profound persuasion that supreme blessedness is 
 
THE UNITY OF GOD AND MAN 203 
 
 only to be found in such union. Nor is that all indeed 
 that is to be said, but it may for the moment suffice. 
 In the religious view of the world, man and all things 
 are from God and of Him. Man can therefore live 
 the true life only as he lives in God. He is perfect 
 only when he has reached unity with God. It thus 
 becomes, as Schlegel, in dealing with the philosophy 
 of history, said, " the most important subject, and 
 the first problem of philosophy," to consider "the 
 restoration in man of the lost image of God." But 
 men are spiritually so hyper-sensitive to-day that 
 we hear less of this lost image being traced in us 
 again ; stiU, i£ there is union of man with God, it is 
 that of a God-united consciousness, which is achieved 
 only from a state in which it was disunited. Lord 
 Haldane has lately expressed himself in a manner 
 far too pantheistic and unguarded, confounding 
 man's consciousness with God's, and identifying God 
 and man as " not numerically distinct subjects in 
 knowledge." If they are not " distinct subjects," 
 then communion with God is done away. But not 
 in this mode are God and man identical.^ There is 
 no privilege so great as free and voluntary union, 
 ethical and spiritual, with God, and many are the 
 aspects and considerations which have been over- 
 looked in connection with its development in the 
 course of the ages. It is with some of these the present 
 paper would deal. 
 
 This great conception of God, as the need of the 
 soul, which finds consciousness and value grounded 
 in Him, has been an imposing historic magnitude 
 
 ^ See what I have said on Green, supra^ chap, vi., as to the overdone 
 principle of identity. 
 
204 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLBMS 
 
 in religious life and thought. It involves the con- 
 ception of the Oversoul, or the Over-Individual, to 
 which we may ascendj and with which, as soul of the 
 soul, we may become bound, in conscious spirituality. 
 Creative spirituaUty is the result. That man is to 
 be one with God through the supersensible Deity 
 dwelling within him, is certainly the teaching of the 
 Christian reUgion, whereia not only the individual, 
 but humanity, with its pains and travail, is regarded 
 as meant to faU within the compass of the Diviae 
 Life. Of this Divine thought or intention of our 
 spiritual xmion it has been eminently true that, — 
 
 " One accent of the Holy Ghost 
 The heedless world hath never lost." 
 
 I shall not now dwell on the utterances on the join- 
 ing in communion God and man, say, by Irenseus 
 and Athanasius, but refer to Augustine, whose work 
 was significantly germinal for our theme. ITor do I 
 dwell on Clement and Origen, both of whom claimed 
 communion with God through the life of contempla- 
 tion. Augustine is content with no knowledge of 
 God short of His self-revelation to the soul, with the 
 soul's resultant consciousness of communion with 
 God. But this he conceives as no mere fruit of his 
 own search, rather is it God who has found him — 
 percussisti cor meum. " Where, then, did I find Thee, 
 and so learn to know Thee, unless it were in Thine 
 own self above and beyond me ? " But such know- 
 ledge is life, and eternal life. It is Augustine, too, 
 who, in a great saying, declares that God has made 
 us for Himself, and that restless are our hearts until 
 they rest in Him. The blessedness of communion 
 
THE UJS^ITY OF GOD ANB MAN 205 
 
 with God Augustine had definitely reached, not with- 
 out the strong help of Neo-Platonism on the way. 
 The intimate character of this union of the human 
 soul with God he emphasises in his work ' On the 
 Trinity.' He exempUfies a mighty subjectivity in 
 this passionate longing for the possession of God, 
 and union with Him through grace. The experience 
 is one which signifies an agreement of reverence and 
 love on the human side. On the Divine side, God 
 dwells in the man, is one with him. The mystic 
 element of Godinwardness appears in Augustine in 
 immediate unity with knowledge, will, and love. 
 He is, in this respect, a precursor of Eckhart, and an 
 influence for all time. 
 
 Tolstoi once wrote in his journal, " he whose goal 
 is God is a great man." To no one, perhaps, has that 
 greatness belonged more than to Augustine, Tran- 
 scendence of God there was to Augustine, as there 
 had been to some others, but there was a Divine 
 immanence in his spiritual consciousness of God, and 
 that immanence had better be conceived, I think, as 
 a form or mode of Divine omnipresence which is free, 
 ethical, and intensive. To it may be appUed Luther's 
 great saying, finitum capax infiniti, the creature, as 
 the habitation of God, receiving the infinite in virtue 
 of God's ethical nature, and that, too, without any 
 cancellation of the personahty of the finite subject. 
 Indeed, this immanence of God in man may very 
 well be regarded as the metaphysical moment or 
 factor in fundamental experience of the Christian 
 religion. But it waits upon transcendence. I have 
 spoken of Neo-Platonism, and it must be said that 
 Plotinus here compares, reUgiously and philosophic- 
 
206 GBEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 ally, unfavourably with Augustine. In the latter, 
 the metaphysical nimbus of the One of Plotinus 
 has fallen away : the One of Plotinus had neither 
 being nor life, but was beyond existence ; his One 
 consisted abstractly in itself, and was a relationless 
 unity — in. other words, it was not a One for a con- 
 sciousness, nor in a consciousness. But though this 
 One may not be known, He knows Himself by direct 
 self-intuition, which, however, does not take away 
 the separability, rather than imion, which has been 
 created. Turn, by contrast, to these more satisfying 
 words of Gregory !N"azianzen on the possibihties of 
 union with God : " 'No man knows, or will ever 
 know, what God is in His own essence and nature ; 
 but to my thinking we shall know what is like to 
 God in ourselves ; our mind and reason wiU be united 
 with Him whose Likeness we are, and the image of 
 God win be raised into the presence of the Original, 
 with whose desire our soul is touched, and then we 
 shall know even as we are known." ^ 
 
 NoWf the important poiat is, that in such experi- 
 ences we have not a mere subjective experience, but 
 in some sort an inward becoming of the reahty of 
 God, to which not even metaphysical significance 
 can be whoUy denied. For it implies the unity of 
 consciousness with the real God, who is in the human 
 spirit. The metaphysical timidity of most theological 
 thinking on such matters has nothing praiseworthy 
 about it. The purport of not a little of the Patristic 
 teaching is just the clasping of humanity in hypostatic 
 imion with the Eternal God. Even in the philosophic 
 system of Proclus, no idea is more strikingly enforced 
 
 ^ Or. xxxiv. 
 
THE imiTT OF GOD AND MAN 207 
 
 than that of " participation " in the Divine and 
 eternal, but this same idea of participation in the 
 Divine creative power forms, in higher mode, the 
 essence of Christianity itself. The subject of Divine 
 Union received specific treatment at the hands of 
 pseudo-Dionysius (not in his work on the Divine 
 Names only, but in that on Mystical Theology), and, 
 later, from Albertus Magnus, in his striking opuscule 
 on the subject (Be Adhaerendo Deo),^ In his Mystical 
 theology, Dionysius made the Divine essence the 
 source of all being and perception, and set out a 
 scheme for rising to perfect union with God Himself. 
 In his work on the Divine Names, this union is de- 
 clared to be by the soul being carried away above 
 intelligence. He was largely influenced by Plotinus 
 and Proclus, especially the latter, and became, in 
 his turn, a potent force for the thought of the Middle 
 Ages. Albertus strongly stood for man's union with 
 God in this life, a imion effected through knowledge, 
 as was the prevailing tendency of all antiquity. 
 Albertus even thinks it possible to touch or reach 
 God with the understanding (" attingere Deima in- 
 tellectu "), even though it is not thereby possible to 
 comprehend Him. His aim is perfection by oneness 
 of the soul with God (" unus fiat spiritus cum eo "). 
 Between these two came Scotus Erigena, who taught 
 men, not very helpfully, that God did not even 
 know Himself, and therefore could not be known by 
 us. On the other hand, the possibihties of soul- 
 
 ^ Cf. my Article on "Albertus Magnus as Philosopher" in the 
 ' Hibbert Journal/ July 1918, especially pp. 627-629. But Albertus, 
 who is also a great religious thinker, speaks in the "De Virtutibus" of 
 "this blessed union with God" as consisting "in collecting the forces 
 and affections of the soul upon God with a unanimous recollection." 
 
208 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 union with God were set forth by Gregory the Great, 
 Bernard of Clairvaux, and Bonaventura. 
 
 If I do not dwell on the great Aqninas, that is not 
 because he does not recognise any intimate relation 
 between God, who is " man's beatitude," and man, 
 who " naturally knows " Him. But it is because 
 I account his teaching on this subject far behind what 
 he has given us on many other topics.^ Eckhart, in 
 his inner concentration, maintaiaed the spiritual 
 union of God and man, as effected in the act of our 
 perceiving Him. His eye and God's eye, he said, 
 were one eye. To Eckhart, God is the sole, universal, 
 and necessary Being ; God and Being are one ; every- 
 thing exists only in Him. The creature is not separ- 
 ated from God ; but the knowledge of God's nearness 
 is that which gives blessedness ; by the Son, who is 
 one with God, all things are, he holds, in God — in 
 fact, are God, according to his tinge or type of pan- 
 theistic mysticism. All creatures, in his view, bear 
 the stamp of the Divine nature ; hence he maintains 
 that they have a deep and painful yearning after 
 union with God, and rest in Him. But the crushing 
 out of will and desire is carried by Eckhart at times to 
 lengths which are extreme. Clearly what is called for 
 is, that such immediate knowledge of God be ethically 
 justified, but it is only in part that the ethical teaching 
 of Eckhart is faulty or defective. He is, in general, 
 too abstract and monistic, and lacks the historic sense, 
 in his perhaps too great impatience of Time. 
 
 ^ Aquinas places love of God higher — altior or eminentior — than 
 knowledge of Him, but for an explication of his view of knowledge 
 — visio Dei — see Dr Wicksteed's 'Reactions between Dogma and 
 Philosophy/ pp. 613-619. 
 
THE UNITY OF GOD AND MAN 209 
 
 Without touching on Tauler, who was influenced 
 by Aquinas, Teresa, and others, I pass to speak of 
 the sounder more theistical thought of Euysbroeck. 
 He thinks man, as having come from God, must 
 return to union with Him. But we shall never cease to 
 be ourselves, never be lost in God, according to his 
 better insistences. Nor will God ever be anything 
 but God, so that while we may be consciously one 
 with Him, it is as retaining our distinctness from 
 Him. In a precise and tiny work on Christian Faith, 
 Euysbroeck says : " We shall understand by love 
 and we shall be understood by love, and God shall 
 possess us and we Him in unity. We shall enjoy 
 God, and, united to Him, we shaU rest in blessed- 
 ness. And this measureless delight, in that super- 
 essential rest, is the ultimate source of blessedness." 
 In another work, he says of the life of contempla- 
 tion and self-renunciation : " There he sees the eternal 
 light revealed, and in that light he feels an eternal 
 craviiig for union with God. And he himself feels a 
 constant fire of love which desires above all things 
 to be one with God." And he proceeds to say that 
 the unity in the whole experience is that of love and 
 nothing but love, which carries us to a more complete 
 absorption in God than is always found in Euysbroeck, 
 who has thus the note of the genuine mystic. I 
 would remark, however, that the Divine Love, on 
 which Euysbroeck dwells strongly, is the expression 
 of God's oneness with us. 
 
 The danger of such experiences is, I think, that 
 they assume a character too purely individual, sub- 
 jective, and accidental, whereas experience based on 
 close contact with truth and knowledge retains a 
 
 o 
 
210 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 universally valid cast, as is desirable and even essential. 
 This also helps preserve from the danger of absorp- 
 tion in God, which in the main Euysbroeck seems 
 wishful to avoid, although I do not think he succeeds 
 so completely as some theological writers have sup- 
 posed. He says, for example, we ought " to plunge 
 ourselves beyond ourselves into its unsoimded depths," 
 to " rise and go beyond ourselves into its inconceivable 
 height," so that there shall be " an eternal fusion and 
 transfusion, absorption, and perabsorption, of our- 
 selves in the glory of God," and more of the like. 
 But the communing soul should, I think, still dis- 
 tinguish itseH from God : it should keep the actuality 
 of its spiritual experience free from arbitrariness, and 
 let it wear an inwardly necessary, universally vaUd 
 character ; it should know itself as this particular 
 person, distinguished from God ; it shoidd find its 
 freedom in unity with ethical Deity, Who makes it 
 free. For the duahty is not dualism, since it is 
 bridged in the spiritual union of God and man. 
 Spirituahstic monism ensues. 
 
 It is absurd to say that the soul of the mystic has 
 no need of revelation ; if he himself thinks so, he 
 may be taken as merely self-deceived ; it is patent 
 that, but for revelation, his blissful experience of 
 union with God could neither be, nor be assured, at 
 least in any satisfactory sense. I do not mean this, 
 however, to be taken in any sense that would impair 
 the integrity of his living, present experience, with 
 its independent and inward certitude, to which his- 
 toric revelation may be viewed, for the nonce, rather 
 in the light of a corroborative adjunct. But that is 
 not all, as we shaU see later, and certain it is that 
 
THE UIJflTY OF GOD AND MAIJf 211 
 
 not for long could the individual spiritual conscious- 
 ness be isolated from collective Christian experience 
 and historical connection. There is no reason why 
 he should not have an immediate knowledge of God, 
 should not know himself as in God, and God as 
 working efficaciously within him, without failing to 
 realise that he is still organ or instrument of God, 
 with place and purpose in His advancing kingdom. 
 Still, one cannot but feel, in what are one's best 
 moments, that it is perhaps all too easy for us to 
 blame an Eckhart or a Euysbroeck for too great 
 absorption in mystic imion with God, forgetting the 
 while that the world, with its time-stresses and 
 tensions, is so much with us men of to-day, that we 
 err by terrible defect. 
 
 Now, I think it woidd be a great mistake to exclude 
 all notice of the Eeformation from our purview, 
 since it was, on one side, a retrogression to the 
 mystical conception of immediate knowledge. The 
 freedom of a Christian man was Luther's last prin- 
 ciple. But wherein free ? In the fact that he had 
 the immediate witness of the Spirit to Divine Grace. 
 Luther denounced the mystical theology of pseudo- 
 Dionysius. The Eeformational principle of the 
 priesthood of all behevers — the right of direct access 
 to God — ^bears strongly upon our subject and its 
 open possibihties. For it made the actuaUty of the 
 commimity of God with man no longer an essentially 
 historical and past affair, but a present and living 
 concern.^ Of Descartes I will only quote the follow- 
 
 ^ See, for fuller treatment, my Article, "Protestantism and Catholi- 
 cism" (a methodological inquiry), in *The Constructive Quarterly,' 
 Dec. 1913. 
 
212 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 ing sentence as a curious outcome of Cartesian 
 rationalism : " The very idea of union with God 
 suffices to rouse within us that heat around our 
 hearts which causes a most violent passion to arise." 
 Certainly not until an immediate unity with God 
 is reached is reUgion fully reaUsed. 
 
 When it comes to Kant, he is seen to cut no illus- 
 trious or inspiring figure in the sphere of rehgion, 
 immense as his services have been to speculative 
 thought. Yet, strange to say, a new tendency, all 
 too little perceived, beginning with Kant, runs on 
 through Fichte, Schleiermacher, Schelling, and Hegel, 
 a tendency towards the unifying of God and man. 
 For they concern themselves, more or less, with the 
 rehgious life itself — with the essence of Christianity 
 or its inmost principle. As for Kant, we have the 
 testimonies of Kuno Fischer and of Zeller as to his 
 belief in the reality of God. But Kant himself says 
 "it is indeed necessary to be convinced of the exist- 
 ence of God, but it is not equally necessary to demon- 
 strate it." I do not propose to deal with his ' EeUgion 
 within the Limits of Pure Eeason,' save to note his 
 Deistic setting, and his utter lack of feeling — the for- 
 eignness to him of the mystical side of religion. 
 Still, there does fall a crumb from his table when he 
 uses a phrase about " uprearing and upbuilding a 
 new man — a temple of God,'' But he is in marked 
 contrast with rehgion when he allows his morahsm 
 to centre so much in himself. Our practical faith is 
 pretty much the reverse of that defined by Kant, 
 whereby the man is so conscious of a moral disposi- 
 tion that he can repose in confidence in himself. Our 
 faith, in the religious sphere, is rather in One not 
 
THE UNITY OF GOD AND MAN 213 
 
 oiirselves, Who is able to uphold us and keep us 
 from falling. Amazing is his lack of room for the 
 consciousness of God within the soul of man, whereby 
 the individual can be raised far above himself. In- 
 deed, Kant has a gift of thinning out religion, so 
 that little of the specific characteristics of the vital 
 religious life is left. So-called " means of grace " he 
 empties hkewise of ethical significance. He is not 
 unwilling to admit that there may be a sphere of the 
 supernatural, but he is himself without that fine 
 sense of contact or communion with the Divine 
 which has been a distinguishing feature of great 
 religious personalities in all ages. It has been ac- 
 counted a merit in Kant that he retains " a pure 
 religious faith," which every man can make his own, 
 over against a faith which is historically begotten, 
 but the merit is much less, religiously, than some 
 theological thinkers have supposed, on a careful 
 examination of the whole context or setting. Kant's 
 appeal, in spite of his rationahsm, was an appeal 
 to the heart — ^to faith in the moral law. But his will 
 to believe was intelligibly due to the fact that he 
 still believed in a rational universe. The significant 
 thing, for my purpose, is that he emphasised, in con- 
 nection with the Christian idea of the supreme good, 
 the moral wiU, in which is found the point of union 
 with God, though, as I have shown, in a way sig- 
 nificantly other than that of Kantian morahsm. 
 
 Fichte, in his later stage, got beyond his unsatis- 
 factory, mere exclusive moralism, so that in the 
 Anweisung, he can even speak of the individual 
 " who vividly recognises his unity with God, and 
 who truly and actually abandons his entire individual 
 
214 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 life to the Divine Life." And elsewhere, he finds 
 God to be the Absolute Life, which binds aU spirits 
 in one, and expresses itself through individuals. He 
 comes to think, indeed, that every one should know 
 that God urges on his work withia him, and that 
 every one can become a citizen of the Kingdom of 
 Heaven. 
 
 Schelling pursued the unity of God and man in a 
 manner characteristic of his system. There is, for 
 him, an identity of the human mind and the Essence 
 of all Being. The first principle of the moral life is, 
 to Schelling, the knowledge of God, who has revealed 
 Himself, but, it would appear, as from necessity. 
 The essence of the moral hfe he finds in the soul's 
 tendency to unite itself to God as the centre of all 
 things. But he identifies, ta his pantheistic tendencies, 
 the Deity too much with !N'ature, and even renders 
 certain laws superior to Him. The evolution of the 
 God-idea in history is traced by him so as to show 
 a passing from pantheism or monotheism to poly- 
 theism, and thence to the triune God of revelation. 
 But for him the world's history is just God coming 
 to HimseK, and our longing for the actual God con- 
 stitutes, for him, religion. He has an idea of man as 
 divine, that he may know God. His philosophy 
 of religion, indeed, holds to a personal God, to free- 
 dom, and to individual immortality, but it yet re- 
 mains of very negative value. Clearly, the disposi- 
 tion of ethical and spiritual elements required for a 
 satisfactory unity of God and man is not to be found 
 here. 
 
 Hegel made religion " a relation of the spirit to 
 absolute Spirit," He placed God within, not without, 
 
THE UNITY OF GOD AND MAN 215 
 
 religious experience. He made much of our idea of 
 God. "Eeligion," said Hegel, "is not a discovery 
 of man, but a work of divine operation and creation 
 in him." He did not fail to ascribe metaphysical 
 content and value to the religious consciousness. To 
 get a consciousness of the unity of Divine and human 
 nature, we need this unity embodied in a definite 
 individual — ^who is the Divine Idea — such as we have 
 in the God-Man. The unity or oneness of God and 
 man is, with Hegel, a great insistence, on which I 
 am hardly now concerned to make critical reflections. 
 What I am concerned with is the fact of his pre- 
 sentation of the unity of God and man. " Christ 
 has appeared ; a Man who is God ; God who is 
 Man ; and thereby peace and reconciliation have 
 accrued to the world." This is Hegel's great and 
 richly wrought out message to the world, whether 
 one agrees with it at all points, or not, in the out- 
 working, 
 
 Schleiermacher, like Hegel, centres in the historic 
 Christ, unique Mediator between God and Man, and 
 makes rehgion an integral element in human life. In 
 Schleiermacher, as in Hegel, are elements that call 
 for criticism, but I am not now concerned with these, 
 but with what there positively is in his presentation 
 relative to God and man. For him, ' the feeling of 
 unconditional dependence and the consciousness of 
 one's relatedness to God, are one ; and consciousness 
 of God and seK-consciousness are inseparable. Of 
 course, there is a savour of natural connection in 
 much of his thought due to its Spinozan tinge ; but 
 still, he has a mystical comprehension of religion, and 
 thinks we can win a powerful consciousness of God, 
 
216 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 corresponding to the true idea of religion. " The 
 true nature of religion," he says, " is not in any 
 ' idea,' but is ' immediate consciousness of the Deity 
 as He is found in ourselves and in the world.' " Christ, 
 for Schleiermacher, mediates all being of God in the 
 world, and is the source of such religion. 
 
 Now, even such a brief historic survey serves to 
 show that the excellence of the Christian reUgion lies 
 in the fact that in it, as nowhere else, is reahsed the 
 unity of God and man — wherein all separation is 
 transcended. It also serves to show the stream of 
 spiritual idealism ever breaking out afresh in the 
 demand for God Himself, independently of all in- 
 secure mediations. No historicity need blind us to 
 a just appreciation of this fact, in its significance for 
 living piety, and in this generation there is not the 
 least danger of our sense of mystic Divine Union 
 becoming so great as to lead to any undervaluation 
 of historic magnitudes and values. Kant's phrase 
 about man as " a temple of God " is here fulfilled in 
 grander form than his hard and halting rehgiosity 
 ever knew, for man has won a concentrated and inde- 
 pendent personahty in free ethical union with the 
 Deity who dwells in him. His freedom as a Chris- 
 tian man is seen in his free knowledge of the truth 
 and essence of the Christian rehgion. For only in a 
 free way can the truth be known as truth. His very 
 search for truth is an implication, nay, affirmation of 
 absolute truth. But his knowledge is not merely 
 of the intellect, albeit his communion of spirit with 
 God is always mediated by thought. Thought is 
 the universal medium of aU life of the spirit, but the 
 peculiar value of the spiritual does not depend on 
 
THE UNITY OF GOD AND MAN 217 
 
 thought in isolation from co-operant will and feeling. 
 Hence not through knowledge of the intellect alone, 
 but through obedience to Divine Will, does he know 
 God and His teaching. In his unity with God, his 
 immediate knowledge of God, he casts off, as an un- 
 worthy slough, every thought or idea of self-redemp- 
 tion. Personality becomes immeasurably heightened 
 in value through this indwelling of an immanent 
 Deity who is yet an Over-I, but the man's spiritual 
 and ontologic sense deepens the while that Humilihus 
 dot gratiam. It is no life of feeliag fluxes, for spiritual- 
 ised reason holds the rein. It is of the essence of such 
 a life of freedom that it makes an advancing develop- 
 ment, a deepening of knowledge, possible, and even 
 certain. 
 
 I have not spoken of thinkers like F^nelon,^ who 
 held a strong theory — derived from Neo-Platonic 
 sources — of the absolute unity of God, but who yet 
 beUeved we were born for the love of God ; nor of 
 Pascal,^ who made God the soul's only good, its only 
 rest, its only joy, albeit in terms often sombre ; nor 
 of many others who have stood in this current of 
 unified spiritual thought. But in all of them have 
 been presupposed movement of God to man and of 
 man to God, with resultant indwelling of God ia 
 man, and unifying of man with God. It cannot be 
 too plainly stated that it is no mere oneness of being 
 or nature that is meant — as by mere natural imman- 
 ence — ^but an active, voluntary, and ethically reahsed 
 
 ^ Cf. my Article on "Fdnelon as Philosopher" in the 'Holborn Re- 
 view,' April 1918. 
 
 ^ Cf. my Article on "The Religious Philosophy of Pascal" in the 
 'Bibliotheca Sacra,' 1918. 
 
218 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 union. It is in this realised personal relationship of 
 man to God — God in us, we in God — ^that any adequate 
 conception of religion can alone be found. Most 
 meagre and unsatisfactory are the definitions of 
 religion which, in psychological terms of our purely 
 subjective and emotional attitudes, still sometimes 
 appear in current philosophies of religion. They 
 are half definitions, and poor at that, passing not 
 beyond presumptive probability. When Hoffding, ia 
 his 'Problems of Philosophy,' says that "the core of 
 reUgion is an interest of feeliag and will " (p, 179), 
 one thinks of the quaint saying of Whichcote, the 
 Cambridge Platonist, that " it ill becomes us to make 
 our intellectual faculties Gibeonites " — drudges to the 
 will and the feelings. Eeason is still first in rank. All 
 our apprehensions, apart from God, are partial and 
 incomplete, for we have not yet reached the keystone 
 of the arch of truth. Clearly, the consciousness of 
 the " otherness " of God ought not to be so excluded 
 from religious experience. That experience includes 
 a non-self, or transcendent reality, which is, in this 
 case, God, more real than all other reaUty. Eehgion 
 is not constituted merely by our own emotionahsm 
 or subjective aspirations, but by the presence of God 
 at the inmost centre of our life — His creative and 
 sustaining presence ia respect of those spiritual 
 ideals which are quite the most precious thing in or 
 about us. Our participation in that Divine Life 
 constitutes for us that consummate union, the sense 
 of whose reahsed possibility the world has never lost 
 since Athanasius greatly conceived it in his crowning 
 thought that God Himself had entered humanity. 
 No narrow conception was his ; " The Logos, while 
 
THE UNITY OF GOD A:ND MAN 219 
 
 present in the human body and Himself quickening 
 it, was, without inconsistency, quickening the universe 
 as well, and was in every process of nature." But it 
 is with the Divine immanence in man we are here 
 concerned, in which connection it is worth while to 
 remember that Spinoza was able, too pantheistically, 
 to say that our highest love of God is but a portion 
 of God's infinite love for Himself, But the distinction 
 of subject and object does not so disappear in rehgion, 
 even where it is most perfect. The man who has 
 found his home and dweUing place in God finds 
 himself, nevertheless, supported and sustained by 
 God's own activity within him. This to him is not 
 mere theory ; it is life — ^basic, organic, ontologic, 
 and spiritual being. Mediated by Christ it may be, 
 if, with F. D. Maurice, we take Christ to be the 
 essential ground of all human life ; but Christ is 
 the way to God, and it is the spiritual unity of God 
 and man that we aim to realise. Paul declared he 
 knew not Christ after the flesh, and he centred, not 
 on the historic Jesus in His temporal conditionedness, 
 but upon Christ in His eternal aspect. The wise 
 course for us also, in these days of historico-critical 
 inquiry. And there must be neither Neo-Platonic 
 nor mystical absorption in the One in our union 
 with God. Eeligious thought has so much concerned 
 itself with what man is to be saved from, that it has 
 had too little vision and hold of what he is saved 
 unto, even the rich potentialities of the life in perfect 
 or harmonious union with God. No numerical one- 
 ness with God, but a Christianly theistic fusion of 
 the life with the infinitely rich and full Divine Life. 
 Whence but from such Ufe, Spirit-filled and God- 
 
220 GREAT PHILOSOPHICAL PROBLEMS 
 
 inspired — whose thought is the divine thought, whose 
 life the divine life — are to spring the inspirations and 
 spiritual impulsions to world-service of thought and 
 life ^ Where but in the multiform realisations of 
 such life shall we find the ever-increasing union of 
 men in God *? Hence the peerless importance of this 
 God-united life being maintained in fulness and 
 vigour, with its increasing knowledge of the What 
 of the Divine I^ature in all its illuminating influence 
 on the mind, and its irradiating effects on character- 
 Its path is that of spiritual reason or insight, and 
 in its knowledge of God as its Divine complement 
 or Other, it leaves far behind every form of merely- 
 pantheistic immanence. God works in our conscious- 
 ness and in our reason, but so that our reason remains 
 self-active. Can we find any higher path to the 
 harmony of thought with truth — truth as in God — 
 and of feehng with thought ? Reason is God-given, 
 we say ; but why, for its full strength and height, 
 should it not be also God-directed ? But this without 
 any lessening of that activism in man's use of all 
 his powers, on which one must strenuously insist. 
 But what I have urged is in keeping with the great 
 truth of God and humanity, that man is meant to live, 
 not only in, but from God. Do we realise so fully as 
 we might, that God is present in the ideal-building 
 activity of our self -active reason ? Can we doubt that 
 we should think more profoundly and eflSlcaciously 
 in Him ? Surely we may well ask ourselves, with 
 George Macdonald in his poem " A Hidden Life " : — 
 
 " Have I aimed proudly, therefore aimed too low, 
 Striving for something visible in my thought, 
 And not the unseen thing hid far in Thine ?" 
 
THE UOTTY OF GOD AND MJlN 221 
 
 There is a whole world of spiritual knowledge, experi- 
 ence, and conquest, beyond that anima naturaliter 
 Christiana on which we in this time have too idly 
 rested ; and the masters of the God-united life have 
 shown us, " whose spirits live in awful singleness, 
 each in his self-formed sphere of light or gloom," 
 the rich result, in power and elevation, of learning 
 the incommunicable secret of God's presence. This 
 recalls the saying of Augustine that " we can mount 
 still higher, if we carry our thoughts towards the 
 inner side of our being. We thereby reach our souls, 
 and, passing beyond them, we penetrate to the 
 region of unfaihng fertility." That is precisely the 
 region to which our thoughts have now been directed, 
 a region of " unfailing fertility," not mere static 
 fehcity, as is often said, in God. Our union with 
 God is not union with One who is will and love alone, 
 but a union with Him who is the source of all know- 
 ledge and of all truth, in knowing Whom we come, 
 in a correct use of Malebranche's phrase, to ** see 
 aU things in God." For our religion is pre-eminently 
 spiritual knowledge, and its foundations are laid 
 deep in Eternal Eeason. But that does not mean 
 that our religion is merely one of ideas, and has 
 nothing to do with historic fact and revelation. We 
 know how Lessing contended that no historical truth 
 could be demonstrated, and that nothing could there- 
 fore be demonstrated through historical truths. 
 That is, he held that accidental truths of history 
 could not be the evidence of necessary truths of 
 reason. Undoubtedly a very suggestive pronounce- 
 ment, but not therefore worthy of complete or final 
 acceptance. For there may be a Diviner way of 
 
222 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 preserving the idea in Christianity than any known 
 to philosophic rationalism. Said a reflective novelist : 
 " Ideas are often poor ghosts ; our snn-fiUed eyes 
 cannot discern them ; they pass athwart ns in their 
 vaponr, and cannot make themselves felt." And 
 the rehgion of the philosopher, if it is one of ideas 
 only, is apt to be ghostly enough at times, as most 
 people will admit. The Christian ideas have had 
 their importance emphasised by Eoyce,^ but not 
 even his treatment can by any possibihty be regarded 
 as satisfactory. Christianity is fact — Christ-fact — 
 as well as idea — Christ-idea ; and the idea wins, for 
 us men, security and enrichment from the fact. 
 Lessing's view is right enough so far that a thing 
 is not necessarily true because it appears, or is asserted, 
 in history, but it overlooked that metaphysical truth 
 is contained in history. Man can therefore see his 
 ideal of the community of God and man realised in 
 principle in the historic God-Man. Lessing's view 
 also overlooked the way in which Divine fact is, so 
 to speak, renewed and immediately evidenced in 
 the Christian consciousness. That consciousness — as 
 in the God-united life of which I have been speaking 
 — is so complete in its inward certitude as to wear 
 a quasi-independence of historic fact or revelation ; 
 but it is much more correctly viewed as a continuance 
 in the beheving consciousness of the Divine and 
 factual working of Christianity in the world. Spiritual 
 continuity and development are in such ways pre- 
 served, as is obviously needful. Eevelation in its 
 record is not something complete in itself ; it is but 
 
 ^ Cf. my Article on "Royce's Philosophy of Religion" in the * Hol- 
 born Review,' April 1917. 
 
THE UNITY OP GOD AOT> MAN 223 
 
 the vehicle of the self-revelation of God in Christ to 
 our spiritual consciousness, which has a faculty for 
 recognising God and truth. It is thus far more than 
 any question of the external authority of revelation : 
 it is the profound enlistment of our whole rational 
 and spiritual being in the service of the freely recog- 
 nised claims of truth. The rich and strong Christian 
 consciousness may, in its developed inwardness, feel 
 always less conscious dependence on historic revela- 
 tion, but without its being thereby transcended. It 
 is precisely through contact of a vital sort with his- 
 toric Christianity that mind and soul are raised to 
 new ideas and enlarged conceptions of God, in the 
 realised imion with Him which is our present concern. 
 Only in this way is the fullest determination of man 
 reached. It were unwise to forget that all the great 
 ideas, in virtue of which we sit with a certain loose- 
 ness to historical revelation, have come to us on 
 historic wing ; and that the great facts of Chris- 
 tianity are wrongly conceived as mere dead facts, 
 rather than as living powers or present historic forces. 
 Mere hard historicism makes nobody Christian. The 
 aim of real historic interest is to get beyond mere 
 historicity. We here know the truth only as we 
 will the truth, the facts only as we live them, that is, 
 experience the power they are meant to exercise. 
 Then do they wear for us a less " accidental " char- 
 acter, as they are seen to be necessary to the ex- 
 planation of history, in its causal connections and 
 developments. But in discussions on this subject, 
 the first and most fundamental thing is invariably 
 overlooked, that man stands in immediate meta- 
 physical relation to God. On this the rehgious rela- 
 
224 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 tion rests. To such a religio-metaphysical being, the 
 historical can make stimulating, legitimate, and care- 
 fully-defined appeal. 
 
 We have now seen the nature, possibilities, and 
 fruitful results of the spiritual unity of God and man. 
 It is an unification, rather than an identification. 
 It is not simply, as Spinoza says, a case of " unum et 
 idem." But the unification is most real, vital, im- 
 mediate, iu character : in result, it means strength, 
 power, elevation, insight, tranquillity, and peace. A 
 goodly reward of man's quest surely, albeit it is 
 entirely of the spiritual order. Such beatitude is its 
 own reward ; it craves no other. But it involves 
 the soul's severe self-dedication and inner concen- 
 tration on the supreme — the religious — end, ia order 
 to the personahty's rich becoming. It is, as Boutroux 
 put it, the Beyond that is Withia ; it is communion 
 between man and God, a communion effected through 
 communicated life. Such hfe is eternal ; and eternal 
 hfe is spiritual knowledge — " This is life eternal, that 
 they should know Thee, the only true God, and Him 
 whom Thou didst send, even Jesus Christ." Ee- 
 ligious experience, said Boutroux, " cannot guarantee 
 that Beyond as true." But when, I ask, did Life 
 ever ask for guarantees ? It is, and will ever be, its 
 own sponsor, and its own witness. Truth is for, and 
 in, and through, and by Life ; and rehgious experi- 
 ence enfolds iu its embrace trans-subjective spiritual 
 reality, wherever it has the energy that should pro- 
 perly belong to it. In the metaphysics of religion, 
 what is known and explicated is the real — and meta- 
 physical — ^relation subsisting between God and man ; 
 this can be realised only in consciousness ; but it 
 
THE UNITY OF GOD AND MAN 225 
 
 involves an immediate and efficacious working of 
 God in the consciousness. What metaphysical know- 
 ledge or inquiry does is only to bring such immediate 
 knowledge to greater conceptual clearness. In this 
 way is the true essence — the metaphysical kernel — 
 of rehgion brought into light. This not even the 
 psychology of religion can so well effect, for its con- 
 cern is only with psychological experiences and 
 actualities — things by no means identical with truth. 
 And truth — spiritual truth, and metaphysical truth 
 — is the deepest need of man's spirit. In our grasp 
 of such truth is freedom alone to be found. 
 
226 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 THE ETHICS OF SOME MODERN WOELB -THEORIES. 
 
 In the History of Philosophy, world-theories may, 
 on a broad view, be resolved into two main types, 
 namely, Ideahsm and Materialism. Idealism takes 
 a twofold direction, Theism and Pantheism. Theism 
 is properly a form of reUgious philosophy, not of 
 theology. Theism holds the world to be made and 
 governed by a Supreme InteUigence which, as the 
 Ultimate EeaUty, stands out as distinct from the 
 world. Pantheism views all finite things as parts 
 of a Whole, within which as a imity they have no 
 substantial independence. The original opposition 
 between theism and pantheism, however, was on 
 religious rather than on philosophical grounds. Ma- 
 teriaUsm centres on those tangible facts of experience 
 with which science is concerned. Historic materiaUsm 
 has assumed a threefold form : that in which the 
 psychic is something physical — ^the spiritual is a stuff ; 
 that in which the psychic is a product or effect of 
 moved matter ; and that in which the psychic is an 
 accompaniment of physical processes, and here the 
 materiaUstic trend is not so pronounced. It is, how- 
 ever, no part of my present purpose to pursue the 
 
SOME MODEEN WOELD-THEOEIES 227 
 
 classification of world-theories, but merely to select 
 some of these, which have proved of great interest 
 to the thought of our time, for consideration on their 
 ethical sides or aspects, the problem being to fix the 
 most tenable or satisfying one. 
 
 There is the best-possible world-theory of Leibniz, 
 which I shall briefly notice. Leibniz admitted his 
 system to be a " mingle-mangle " of Democritus, 
 Plato, Aristotle, and the Scholastics. But this does 
 not mean a mechanical laying down of the ideas of 
 his precursors, since they are organically bound in 
 his thought with one another. He was the renewer 
 of the vitahstic-teleological mode of thought. Men's 
 perfections he derived (in his ' Monadology ') from 
 God ; their imperfections he ascribes to their own 
 imperfect nature. To the imperfection inherent in 
 finite things, not to Divine Will, he attributes (in 
 his ' Theodicy ') the evil in the world. But he would 
 commit philosophical theism to a strange position, 
 when he is prepared to deny that the world would 
 have been a better one without sin and without suffer- 
 ing. And the Divine intellection, it must be said, 
 he describes in a very himian and gratuitous fashion, 
 ascribing to the Divine Mind a plurality of acts which 
 are the merest postulations of the philosopher him- 
 self. There has been, to his pre-established harmony, 
 divine foresight and regulation of all things before- 
 hand ; everything is necessary, nothing can be 
 changed ; if the least evil in the world were wanting, 
 it would not be this world ; besides, an evil often 
 causes a good. An optimism absurdly frigid and 
 fatalistic, it must be said, for if the world is already 
 the best possible, ethical incentives to hope are not 
 
228 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 in that case much in evidence. Nor, on a strict view, 
 does his system stand in any particular need of the 
 God of theism, for Whom not much seems left to 
 do. Some of the recently edited texts of Leibniz 
 tend, however, to soften, and render more natural, 
 his rather arbitrary and artificial pre-established har- 
 mony. They show harmony as the law of being, a 
 law of inteUigibility, and the notion of harmony as 
 a rich and complex one. The ethical task, in his view, 
 was the perfection of human spirits, which must be 
 freed always more of their finite relations. For the 
 source of error, and with that of moral evil, lies in 
 their limitation and finitude. The more comprehen- 
 sive and free their development away from limited 
 knowledge, the greater their approach to an har- 
 monious world-view. The unethical is, with him, too 
 much the result of mere error and confused ideas ; 
 and the ethical is too much in need of harmonisation 
 with the metaphysically necessary in his system. After 
 much meaningless talk of " possible " worlds, however, 
 he leaves us with just the actual world, with whose 
 moral evil he should have more closely concerned 
 himself. But, because of his absorption in the meta- 
 physical ground of evil — ^which he failed correctly 
 to apprehend — he ahnost wholly missed the philosophy 
 of moral evil. To him it was mere defect of good ; he 
 never faced it as enemy and opposite of the good. In 
 his ethics, it was therefore not real ; it was indeed 
 but the um?eal — a mere appearance which made the 
 rosiest optimism possible. God had merely allowed 
 evil as necessary. Eosmini (in his great ' Theodicy ') 
 has been largely influenced by Leibniz, in his em- 
 phasis on the privative or negative aspects of evil. 
 
SOME MODEBN WOELD-THEOEIES 229 
 
 ^Notwithstanding his individualist position, Leibniz 
 passes in his ethics to a sharply altruistic position, in 
 which love to one's fellow-men becomes the chief 
 moment in moraUty. This stress on harmonious 
 social life is an echo of his metaphysic, with its 
 emphasis on world-harmony.^ But the independence 
 postulated for the individual in his metaphysical 
 system had a restraining influence on him here, the 
 more so as he made all virtue rest on individual 
 knowledge. Extreme altruism would have been un- 
 tenable, morally, and his theory of self-perfection 
 saved him from it. His emphasis on ethical ideal 
 and moral perfection was indeed one of the finest 
 and most fruitful things in the thought of Leibniz, 
 albeit it concerned the moral subject, not world- 
 development, as in Hegel. 
 
 Then there is the World- Will theory of Schopen- 
 hauer. To him, as to Schelling, the world is will ; 
 but to him also, as to Fichte, the world is idea ; and 
 it is because the given world is mere idea, and mere 
 idea conducts to negating the will, that the attitude 
 of Schopenhauer is so unsatisfactory. Everything 
 objective is mere idea ; to seek to know it objectively 
 is contradictory. He combats pantheism, but all the 
 marks of pantheism are yet characteristic of his own 
 world-theory. That theory is not a genetic meta- 
 physic, such as Hegel and Schelling attempted ; it 
 is but an intuitive view of what he took to be the 
 essence of the world. For him the world-essence is 
 that unity known as Blind Will, ever pressing on to 
 self-manifestation as its single aim. But, as such 
 
 ^ The metaphysics of Leibniz are dealt with in my Article on 
 "Leibniz on Truth and Being" in 'The Monist,' October 1921. 
 
230 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 seK-mamfestation can never, for an Infinite, be com- 
 plete, there must be sense of defeat, and pain of 
 perpetual craving. The world is for him an appear- 
 ance-world — a veil of Maya. Individuality is banned, 
 since the World- Will is in essence one. Individual 
 existence is illusory — mere appearance. Our own 
 bodies, and the bodies of animals, are to him will- 
 appearances. The world itself is Will. Such, in a 
 word, was the result of the metaphysics derived by 
 Schopenhauer from Brahmanism. And the ethical 
 result which he enjoined was the mortification of 
 personal will, the obhteration of individuahty, the 
 crushing of egoism in its very source. His philosophy 
 is essentially negative in character. To remove the 
 imhappiness that rules in the world, one must needs 
 deny the will to live. For the individual deludes him- 
 self that he is furthering his own happiness, while, 
 as matter of fact, he is but serving the race, as the 
 only thing that endures. Schopenhauer does not per- 
 ceive that this uselessness of all volition, this dead- 
 ness of the will to Uve, is a mere negating or cancella- 
 tion of the ethical problem, not a solving it. He 
 stressed the metaphysic of ethics, and there was, 
 without doubt, something of value in that, but then 
 he failed to do justice to the facts of the ethical 
 consciousness as such. An atmosphere of acrid dis- 
 illusionment and contradiction is all that Schopen- 
 hauer supplies. Such, but not without a curious 
 contradictoriness, was the issue of the ethics which 
 Schopenhauer drew from Buddhism. Schopenhauer's 
 World- Will is a clear indication of the universaUstic 
 tendency of his ethics ; but it is non-rational in its 
 iamost core, and never out of it can you bring Science, 
 
SOME MODBBlsr WOELD-THEOETES 231 
 
 Law, and Order. For it has not reason as its base 
 and bottom, as obtains in a sound philosophical 
 theism ; its reason is but a by-product or an after- 
 thought. But the conception of World- Will, wherein 
 everything is jumbled together as equally and alike 
 will, defeats itself and becomes unmeaning, since 
 there is no means of differentiating will from any- 
 thing else. The mere negation of the will to live, 
 he expressly declares, is the end of his doctrine. 
 " 'No will, no idea, no world." Such is his declared 
 aim, and what an irrational aim and end ! The 
 objectivity of will, as thing-in-itself of every indi- 
 vidual, he asserts, but he always fails to reahse that 
 man's character is that of a unity which, as such, is 
 capable of development. His is will that has no object 
 which it reaches after, and can represent as other 
 than itself. His World- Will is not deliberative will, 
 only blind inclination to life. Hence the immense 
 difference of his meaning from that of a theistic 
 thinker like Martineau when the latter said, " All 
 cosmic power is Will." This irrationaUty of the 
 world, as a metaphysical theory, becomes, when 
 carried over into the ethical sphere, the ground- 
 principle of Schopenhauer's pessimism. And indeed 
 it is not remarkable that the world, as the appear- 
 ance of blind will, should be to him the worst think- 
 able. It is the irrationaUty of the world's root, or 
 the disjunction of wiU from intelligence, that is the 
 fundamental source of Schopenhauer's error. And 
 the prime rectification is the substitution of a World- 
 Will that is, before all things, rational. His grave 
 ethical blunder is to identify being and evil, for it is 
 physical evil or suffering — ^not moral evil — that he 
 
232 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PROBLEMS 
 
 inveighs against. But even in the transcendental 
 ethics of Brahmanism and of Buddhism, to both of 
 which he owed much, suffering held a place of unique 
 importance. And it has been said that " all noblest 
 things are born in agony." 
 
 No ethical world can arise as fruit of unreason, 
 chaos, caprice, and non-inteUigent instinct, which 
 are the prime conditions of his world-theory. Though 
 Schopenhauer imagined that he ran the meaning of 
 the world up into the ethical, yet he resolved it into 
 will as inclusive of every form of cosmic and psychic 
 energy : it was in contempt of reason or iatellect, 
 and in glorification of mere blind activity, that he 
 made man will, and will inexpHcable — velle non dis- 
 citur. Yet, as Hartmann remarks, this " maimed 
 and blind Will nevertheless altogether comports itself 
 as if it had a notional or ideal content." True, he 
 denounces it as one of the most pernicious of errors 
 to say that the world has only a physical, not a moral 
 significance. Yet so iUusive is the moral to liim that 
 " we can scarcely ever pass a correct moral judgment 
 on the actions of others, and seldom on our own." 
 Our acts are, in his view, related to what we are, in 
 our unalterable being or character, rather than deeds 
 to be considered by themselves. For the actions, 
 he holds, we are not responsible, but only for what 
 we are. But the ethical significance of the world, 
 for him, is of imsatisfactory character, when the 
 world-priaciple of it, will, is seen to be so little worthy 
 of the ethical halo with which it has often been in- 
 vested. Yet will is his postulation, as " the one 
 thing that is known to us immediately " ; will is 
 "the one strait gate to the truth." He arbitrarily 
 
SOME MODEEIJf WORLD-THEOEIES 233 
 
 asserts will to be the inner essence of things, but its 
 nature, he declares, we cannot know. And when he 
 comes to relate idea to a material brain, he lands 
 himseH in palpable contradiction, as Zeller shewed. 
 Eeason and idea are no necessary and essential con- 
 ditions of the activity of the will, with him ; nothing 
 could be more unsatisfactory than his lack of care 
 that will be directed by reason. We may, of course, 
 abstract will from reason in our thinking, but in 
 reaUty will is inseparable from reason, is, in fact, 
 energising reason. Will is, as Kant said, nothing 
 but the practical reason, reason being required for 
 action under law. The holder of such a theory of 
 will had small title to speak of Kant's " apotheosis 
 of lovelessness " ; there is in it, in my view, nothing 
 ethically admirable. Every philosophy of will reckons 
 ill that leaves out reason, and makes will the sole 
 substance or energy of the universe. For reason is 
 that omnipresent and imescapable thing which ante- 
 dates and bases everything that truly goes by the 
 name of will. Schopenhauer was himself not devoid 
 of a glimmering of the truth that man's life is often 
 at its highest when reason or intellect is most in 
 evidence, and wiU most in abeyance. Hence for the 
 will to live and its insatiable desires, he offers the 
 aesthetic view of the world — as the highest form of 
 existence — ^to raise us above the vanity of the world. 
 So, in his inconsequence, he offers us, in pure will- 
 less aesthetic contemplation, a positive good in the 
 world after all. But he has no strong, clear, correct, 
 and consistent view of the relation of reason or in- 
 tellect to wiU. Obsessed by the priority of auto- 
 matism and instinct, he absurdly subsumes such 
 
234 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 process under the term ''will," and fails to realise 
 that rationality is of its essence. Nothing conld be 
 more mischievous than so to treat will as mere power. 
 Chalybaus did much better in insisttug on the import- 
 ance, for ethics, of the will and the judgment being 
 in harmony and accord ; else will may assert what 
 judgment repudiates, or will may neglect what judg- 
 ment prescribes.^ But Schopenhauer patently sub- 
 ordinates the dictates of reason to sheer will. Again, 
 the altruism of Schopenhauer is absolute, and con- 
 sequently absurd. He was himseK a Hving contradic- 
 tion of the theory, which is as false as the theory 
 of pure egoism would be. But if life carries so little 
 value for our pessimistic philosopher, a more neutral 
 attitude to both theories would obviously have been 
 more consistent. The egoistic and the altruistic im- 
 pulses are both necessary, on a true view, and must 
 be harmonised, as shewn in an earlier chapter. ^ 
 
 I turn now to Hartmann's world-theory of the 
 Unconscious, which is not well understood in this 
 country. His world-theory is a manifold eclecticism. 
 He himself says it is a synthesis of Schopenhauer 
 and Hegel, with a decided preponderance of the 
 former ; executed under the guidance of the prin- 
 ciples of the teachings of Schelling's positive phil- 
 osophy, and of the concept of the Unconscious in 
 Schelling's first system ; the abstract result is then 
 closely imited to Leibnizian individualism and modem 
 natural-science realism so as to form concrete monism. 
 But, as we saw in the case of Leibniz, so in that of 
 Hartmann, there is organic connection, not mere 
 
 ^ ' Historical Development of Speculative Philosophy,' p. 168. 
 ^ Chapter ii. 
 
SOME MODEEN WOELD-THEOEIES 235 
 
 juxtaposition, of the derivative ideas or elements. 
 In respect of method, Hartmann made the curious 
 error of supposing that we can solve metaphysical 
 problems out of immediate experience, that induction 
 assumes tasks which it can by no means solve. Thus 
 he tends to form his conception of ethical end by 
 induction from the empirical tendency of the world 
 — a perfectly fallacious procedure. His untenable use 
 of inductive method marks a grave defect of his 
 system. 
 
 Beginning with the absolute substance, that is, 
 the Unconscious as the Absolute, and its two attri- 
 butes, the logical and the alogical, Hartmann gives 
 us the world from this absolute substance through 
 the alogical, the imconscious, changing from the 
 original condition of rest. The effect of this is, that 
 the manifoldness of the ideas which the logical eter- 
 nally contains but does not of its own initiative un- 
 fold, becomes thereby reaUsed. The logical, that is 
 to say, seeks to repair or make good what, in this 
 compulsion, the unreasonable had done, so that rest 
 or not-willing may be restored. The logical brings 
 the unconscious to consciousness in this way, teach- 
 ing it to know the misery and illusion of its activity. 
 Will is startled or supervenes on this procedure, and 
 this surprise is consciousness, according to Hartmann. 
 And always knowledge brings it more about that 
 willing leads to unblessedness and renunciation to 
 painlessness. But the absurdity of Hartmann's en- 
 deavour to make out empirical preponderance of pain 
 over pleasure, as a matter of calculation, has been 
 clearly exposed by O. Pfleiderer and others. The 
 whole principle was wrong-headed. But to him all 
 
236 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 willing, even the Divine, is folly ; his good consists 
 in unmaking what the will has made. 
 
 In Hartmann's " concrete monism " the plurality 
 of phenomenal being is supposed to be reduced to 
 the unity of the unconscious, but the freeing from 
 duaUsm is not really explained. Matter also is re- 
 duced to the combined will and intellect of the un- 
 conscious. More exactly, there is a combination of 
 wiU-atoms, with logical ideas, which accompany the 
 combinations of the will-atoms. Hartmann's treat- 
 ment is more unified and methodical than Schopen- 
 hauer's. Hartmann represents a dynamic rather than 
 a mechanical view of nature, and finds room for 
 teleological conception. But he treats ethics only as 
 a condition to the satisfaction of real needs or human 
 well-being — as mere means to religion, aesthetics, and 
 knowledge — ^in short, as phenomenal means to supra- 
 ethical ends in the three spheres just named. That 
 is to say, he does not allow the ethical to have value 
 in itself. Not a very exalted role for the ethical, it 
 must be said. And he is not quite free of the Scho- 
 penhauerian tendency towards the complete negation 
 of the wiU. Indeed he makes non-being an imiversal 
 end, not one for the individual, like Schopenhauer. 
 Yet the moral consciousness begins with the egoistic 
 pseudo-moraUty, and the highest unified connection 
 of the !N"ature-processes is found in the " I " con- 
 sciousness. But ethical culture is to pass into the 
 ethics of the moral world-order, which includes both 
 the subjective and the objective moral principles. 
 There, subjective motives are to advance objective 
 ends. He seeks to base the ethical on the conscious- 
 ness of the identity of the ground of all appear- 
 
SOME MODERN W0ELD-THE0EIE8 237 
 
 ances ; he thinks the moral must be based upon the 
 Absolute ; but he does not give morahty itself an 
 absolute character, treating it as merely relative. 
 Ethics must yet be grounded, he holds, in the absolute 
 Being or Essence, if the full unity of the moral life 
 is to be attained, but this, he thinks, is mainly of an 
 abstract character. Whereas the highest ethics is 
 first found in concrete monism, the Kingdom of God 
 consists not of an aggregate of substantially separate 
 creatures, but of an organism constituted of essentially 
 identical God-men ; God is the absolute subject of 
 the moral world-order, its immanent essence, not 
 merely a transcendental lawgiver ; and the develop- 
 mental stages of the moral consciousness lead, with 
 Hartmann, up to reUgion. No development is for 
 him, however, without beginning, or without end, 
 and this being true of the created world, its evil is, 
 in his pecuhar sense, reparable, as Weber has re- 
 marked. The suffering and redemption of the Abso- 
 lute form, for Hartmann, the world-process ; and 
 man's moral task is to make the quasi-purposes of 
 the Unconscious his own, and strive after their fulfil- 
 ment. In all which there is not wanting something 
 of the fantastic. 
 
 Eeligion, for him, goes beyond ethics, and has re- 
 demption from evil as its last purpose. But this 
 means a quiescence of the wiU, or a freeing from 
 positive win, in his pessimistic tendency. To know 
 one's self as of divine nature is, he says, to do away 
 with " all undivine, that is, merely natural, conduct." 
 For him, the world is self -redeeming, not through any 
 species of self-mortification, but by universal insight 
 into the vanity of human endeavour, consequent 
 
238 GBEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 upon the highest development of intelligence. In all 
 which there seems to be a strange slipping away of 
 spiritual content and ethical value. What boots it 
 to talk of concrete monism and the moral world-order, 
 if the negation of life and the worthlessness of action 
 are the only results ? When the soul, though he calls 
 it reasonable wiU, is only an individual function of 
 the Absolute WiU — an unconscious Deity — what is 
 there left of concrete monism, when it has given itself 
 to fulfil this function ? Hartmann's ethical position 
 cannot even give real ethical value-judgments, for 
 these are vahd only as they have reality behind them, 
 only as the spirit really exists, and posits ethical ends 
 with reason-necessity. His ethic lacks proper meta- 
 physical groimding and support ; the ethical reason 
 is hampered, and comes not to its fullest for lack of 
 adequate guarantee in the metaphysics of spirit. 
 The stages of the moral development are, in his view, 
 threefold : the nature stage, or infra-moral ; the 
 moral stage ; and the super-moral. The good, in 
 Hartmann's view, always has its source, mediately 
 or immediately, in the super-moral sphere. The moral 
 is, to him, not only end iq itself for man, but also 
 highest end for the universe. But the end is only 
 relatively good : it is the reduction of the evil wrought 
 by the Unconscious in bringing into being conscious- 
 ness and the world. His pessimism is no more con- 
 sequent than we saw Schopenhauer's to be, for to 
 his eudsemonistic pessimism he imites evolutionistic 
 optimism, the world having for bim a relatively 
 reasonable and purposive development. Still, the 
 non-existence of the world were better, in his view, 
 than its existence. But if one found more pleasure 
 
SOME MODEEN WOELD-THEOEIES 239 
 
 than pain in the world, there would be no need to 
 condemn it. For him there is no absolute purpose in 
 the world, but only the negative absolute purpose, 
 to bring this world to a finish — ^the extinction of 
 consciousness. The end of all is illusion, which it is 
 the task, not only of the individual, but of all humanity, 
 to recognise as such. Curious is the joining of this 
 ethics of annihilation to teleology. Curious, also, his 
 notion that an Unconscious Absolute would suffice 
 to explain the teleology. 
 
 Hartmann conditions morahty on insight iuto the 
 fruitlessness of all striving after pleasure, and into 
 the oneness of individuals with one another and with 
 the universal spirit. He holds to the objectivity of 
 moral obUgation siace without the former there would 
 really be, in his view, no ethics. And it is only with 
 ethical aspects of his system, not with his system in 
 whole, that I am now concerned. His pessimism has 
 a social cast while Schopenhauer's bore an individual 
 character. Eudaemonistic ethic oscillates between the 
 individual and the social in one-sided fashion, and 
 remains only relative in character ; eudsemonism is 
 iQComplete as a theory, and is not a true and suffi- 
 cient rationale of life. The culture process is required 
 so long as humanity has not seen through the misery 
 and vanity of the world, and the need for quiescence 
 of the will. The preparation for this must be foxmd 
 in sesthetic culture, wherein man frees himself from 
 the world, while standing above it. But in this the 
 pessimistic world- view has already broken down. The 
 world has received a certain rehabilitation ; in it the 
 many are to experience the pleasure of participating in 
 this culture process. Hartmann's world- view provides 
 
240 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAJj PEOBLEMS 
 
 in its way for the determination of humanity as a 
 whole as well as for the individual — in fact, posits a 
 redemptive, supra-temporal end. Only, in Hart- 
 mann's world-process, things are inverted ; God is 
 the subject to be redeemed, and man is the means 
 of His redemption — ^His coming to Himself for Him- 
 self ! This aberration constitutes for him the " abso- 
 lute tragedy of the religious consciousness," which is, 
 for him, pessimistic, no less than is the moral con- 
 sciousness. The world-pain has become an infinite 
 God-pain, caUing for the redemption which I have 
 just described. How absurd is his conception of an 
 imconscious Absolute, all- wise, aU-knowing, yet with- 
 out consciousness of Itself ! An unconscious Deity 
 could not be free, since He could not know Himself 
 to be active in the world. It may be safely added 
 that no ethical difficulties of theism can compare 
 with the unethical conceptions involved in Hart- 
 mann's working out his ideas of Deity — his Eternal 
 and Absolute. The pessimistic ethic has only a nega- 
 tive albeit an absolute character, namely, the com- 
 plete negation of will. But it lacks positive end, and 
 will not be adopted save by him who is convinced 
 by suffering ; the question as to its imiversal validity 
 cannot receive an affirmative answer. To invest life 
 with activity and value, under a teleological concep- 
 tion of the world, and yet to insist on nothingness 
 as end or ideal, is clearly absurd and unsatis- 
 factory. Hartmann is found, however, in his 
 later work, less favourable to eudsemonism and 
 quiescence of the will, and more inclined to striving 
 and combat with evil. To which may be added 
 the general reflection, to which M. Sorel has given 
 
SOME MODEEN WOELD-THEOEIES 241 
 
 expression, that " pessimism is the imf ailing source of 
 ceaseless religions renovation," in hope that it is true. 
 I turn next to the world-theory of modern Natural- 
 ism. This takes many forms, which I do not now 
 propose separately to follow. I prefer to deal in 
 broad outline with naturalistic theory in its ethical 
 standpoints and bearmgs. It concerns itself with 
 the rise of ethical phenomena, but too often absorbs 
 itself in the merely negative contention that these 
 are natural, as opposed to supernatural. Whether 
 they are the one or the other, is not the real question 
 of ethics of scientific character, which is concerned 
 with accounting, in a disinterested manner, for the 
 place and persistence of moral consciousness in the 
 economy of man's rational life. Naturahstic ethics 
 is content to derive moral principles from the adjust- 
 ments or balancings of nature-impulses or affections. 
 It has no perception of the senses in which man is 
 morally good only by resisting nature. It too easily 
 subordinates the higher in man to that which is lower. 
 It regards ethical reason as the synoptic view or 
 connection of determinate rules derived in a merely 
 adjusted way. Ethics becomes a sort of technique 
 for securing as great a good of the whole as possible. 
 It becomes eudsemonistic, but may take the form of 
 individual weal, or the good of the whole, or both. 
 Its eudsemonistic character may lead naturalistic 
 ethics to lay emphasis on individuahsm, or to put 
 stress on the social principle ; it leaves an unstable 
 equiUbrium between egoism and altruism, and does 
 not treat the ethical as an independent spiritual mag- 
 nitude. Ethics thus does not assume an uncondi- 
 tional character, or yield absolute norms ; it is only 
 
 Q 
 
242 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 a means. It never transcends the phenomenal. It 
 is fluctuating and relative in character, the practical 
 reason being a mere sum of rules, due to the abstract- 
 ing power of the understanding. Naturalism may- 
 profess to emancipate us from illusion and supersti- 
 tion, but it is not adequate to explain life, still less 
 to ennoble it. For the thought and experience of 
 man transcend nature, and cannot be bound by her 
 limits. That is why, as Schopenhauer remarked, no 
 being, man alone excepted, wonders at its own exist- 
 ence and surroundings. I am of those who think our 
 times still suffer from the primitivism and naturahsm 
 — or, if you prefer, pseudo-religion — of Eousseau and 
 his followers. A shrewd French critic said that Eous- 
 seau " looked with more complacency on the evil 
 that was his own than on the good he possessed in 
 common with other people." Such a complacency 
 as to moral evil is a hateful thing, for it is the deadly 
 enemy of all moral progress. Man does not regard 
 himself as merely a natural object among other natural 
 objects, as naturalism is prone to do. In naturalistic 
 ethics there is no fine putting of the self to proof, for 
 it is made dependent on surroundings or environment, 
 as set in the universal order of nature. As Aquinas 
 says, — " Necessitas naturalis non aufert libertatem 
 volimtatis." 
 
 The eudsemonistic impulse is set by naturalistic 
 ethic in constant dependence on outer environment. 
 The self-activity of the individual is significantly 
 limited by the ethical life being set in relation to 
 nature impulses, in the manner of this theory. Moral 
 mistakes are the consequences of miserable conditions. 
 Morality is raised with the raising of happiness. 
 
SOME MODEEN WOELD-THEOEIES 243 
 
 There is no other worthy end in the theory than the 
 impulse to happiness, for which the subject is depen- 
 dent on the outer world. Of course, social sentiment 
 may be stimulated towards the happiness or welfare 
 of the whole, and the individual merged in the task 
 of shaping outer circumstances to this end. For on 
 this whole he depends ; he is supposed to be product 
 of his milieu. Or his eudsemonism, dissatisfied with 
 such vague and doubtful collectivism as sole end, 
 may take more individualistic form. NaturaUsm took 
 — an extreme example — such an individuaUstic colour- 
 ing in Stirner, egoism being for him genuine liberty. 
 But he had not Metzsche's lust of power. His phil- 
 osophy consisted of sheer, vertiginous heights of 
 individualism, consequently it was of the most un- 
 ethical character, with no proper recognition of other 
 human beings. His measureless egoism was the only 
 measure, his naturahsm, of course, rejecting all super- 
 naturaUsm. He held in enmity every form of com- 
 munity. But revolt against unethical repression of 
 individuality and against Sociahst dreary, deadening 
 monotony has no need of, and no justification for, 
 such extreme forms. 
 
 Ethical individuaUty and ethical seK-culture must 
 always go beyond a naturalistic individuaUsm, and 
 cannot rest in themselves as end ; they are what 
 they are, that they may freely and voluntarily serve 
 the whole. Their enrichment comes of this recipro- 
 city. Against the levelling of society stood Nietzsche 
 also, who sought " the restoration of the egoism of 
 humanity," in glaring opposition to Schopenhauer's 
 absolute altruism. Nietzsche is an excellent tonic 
 and stimulant, rather than guide or teacher, even 
 
244 GEBAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 when expounded in Salter's fine, live work. But 
 his stale and borrowed Voluntarism wrought much 
 mischief and many glaring inconsistencies in his 
 thinking, although his originality remains. What 
 Metzsche called his ethical naturahsm was but a 
 stripping of the moral values, till we should be brought 
 back to immoraUsm, to " nature itself and to natural- 
 ness." But he forgot that the transvaluation of values 
 is always going on. He is but critic of existing moral 
 values, violent and extreme at that. He lacked any 
 proper and reasonable measure for determining judg- 
 ments of value.i His self-styled Ethical Naturalism 
 judges life's worth by whether it can be perfected 
 in accordance with the morals of the masters. He 
 does not realise the absurdity of exalting, on occasion, 
 a pure nature principle into a principle of value. 
 His standard of valuation is merely his own. He 
 turns to the happiness principle in the form of " human 
 prosperity " at least. But his " moraUstic natural- 
 ism " is really averted from value, treating every- 
 thing as physiologically necessary. As if you could 
 ever in that way reach or explain what is most dis- 
 tinctive of man as a person ! Even truth has sig- 
 nificance for him only as it is serviceable to the will 
 for power, not as having an objective value. Again, 
 we have in him the rule of the irrational. Vital 
 fitness, under the biological standard, is the thing 
 of supreme moment. But no ethical valuation can 
 accept this as standard of unconditional worth. 
 Naturahsm cannot, in fact, be considered a com- 
 prehensive world-theory, and grows always more 
 
 ^ Cf. my Article "A Critical Estimate of Nietzache's Philosophy" 
 in the ' Bibliotheca Sacra,' January 1915. 
 
SOME MODEElSr WOELD-THEOEIES 245 
 
 cramped and limited as a world-view, the more it 
 is scrutinised. Its inability to explain the facts of 
 moral obligation — of the Ought — ^remains stark and 
 unrelieved. This Guyau forcibly shewed. Where 
 there is consciousness of an ideal — and a naturalism 
 without ideals would be beneath discussion — there is 
 obligation. Even Metzsche cannot escape the ideal 
 and the transcendent.^ Prom obligation there is, I 
 hold, no escape, for the ideal out of which it springs 
 is our own — rooted in our self-hood. The conscious- 
 ness of the ideal carries with it a sense of the " ought " 
 which bids u^ realise it — an " ought " of end, not 
 of means. For Metzsche, however, there is no 
 '* ought " transcending life : life is his ultimate 
 standard. The moral ideal, which is of the essence 
 of the individual, when pursued in bitter earnest to 
 the end, yields its source, I maintain, not in the 
 social world alone, nor in the physical world alone, 
 but in the underlying principle ahke of the social and 
 the cosmic universe, and it is in the failure severely 
 to track it to this lair that hes the root-defect of 
 NaturaUsm. It fails in thoroughness, and does not 
 get beyond the visible system, is purely geocentric. 
 It is morality without wings — ^nothing heliocentric 
 about it. 
 
 I do not care to class Hartmann with such Natural- 
 ism, though this has sometimes been done. Hart- 
 mann seems to have reached, in some sort, the in- 
 dependence of spirit, which, he says, is not a product 
 of nature. Nature is, he maintains, on the contrary, 
 only a product of spirit, which is its immanent ground. 
 Spirit is not eternal, but has posited nature, and man 
 * Cf. W. M. Salter, * Nietzsche the Thinker/ pp. 338-342. 
 
246 GEBAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 knows himself to be of the Creator-Spirit, and as 
 standing far nearer to it than is nature. Hartmann, 
 indeed, is not without a clear kinship to idealistic 
 thought. I am not now concerned to consider how 
 far this logical flight of the thought has been justified 
 in his system. But there is the fact that he holds 
 the ethical norm to be a product of reason — an ideal. 
 And there are many excellent points and criticisms 
 in his ethical work, albeit his theory in whole is 
 nowise satisfactory. The difficulties of an absolute 
 cosmic end, in his system, are not disposed of. l^atu- 
 ralism derives spirit from nature rather than nature 
 from spirit, and thereby does hopeless injustice to 
 man as a thinking and ethical being. It is not sur- 
 prising that Lotze should have said that, of all errors 
 of the human mind, it was to him the strangest that 
 it " could come to doubt its own existence, of which 
 alone it has direct experience, or to take it at second- 
 hand as the product of an external nature, which we 
 know only indirectly, or by means of the knowledge 
 of the very mind to which we would faiQ deny exist- 
 ence." What I am concerned with is, that wherever, 
 on the broadest possible historic survey, man comes to 
 consciousness of the difference of his own spiritual force 
 from mere nature-force, he feels himself raised above 
 all, and views the world as a cosmos or well-ordered 
 Whole, in which the consciousness of ethical law and 
 of relative freedom is developed. And the naturalistic 
 issue is whether spirit is to lose itself in the world, 
 or is to develop its powers in and by the world, con- 
 ceived as a realm of moral ends. On this latter 
 alternative, he comes to view nature — ^for it is a 
 matter of insight — as substratimi and instrument for 
 
SOME MODEEN WOELD-THEOBIES 247 
 
 the realisation of moral ideas and purposes. Nature, 
 in short, exists for the sake of spirit. For the world- 
 concept has already for him ethical content ; the 
 world is for him the means for the reaUsation of the 
 good will. This is not to say that the world, in the 
 actual mechanism of its nature-connection, does not 
 present difficulties to the realisation of moral demands 
 and ideals, but, for aU that, the moral — and especially 
 the human world as an integrating constituent — ^is, 
 in the last analysis, that which holds the world to- 
 gether. As the true, the ethical, self is developed, it 
 cannot be holden of pure naturahsm, conscious as it 
 increasingly becomes of its membership in what must 
 needs be a spiritual universe. It grows always more 
 sensitive to the lack of standards and discipline in 
 naturalism. It spurns its alternatives of Stoic despair 
 or refined Epicureanism. Its outreaching desires 
 aspire after truth and goodness, justice and love — 
 things above, not things on earth. Its increasing 
 conviction is of the hopelessness and helplessness of 
 naturahsm to deal with ultimate problems. " It is," 
 as Hegel said, " only by means of being elevated 
 above nature that man arrives at a consciousness of 
 what is higher, and at a knowledge of the universal." ^ 
 The only other world-theory which I shall now 
 notice is the Theistic world-view in its modern ethical 
 aspects. Theism is not a mere ontology ; its Deity 
 is the aboriginally perfect ethical Being, albeit many 
 philosophers have not grasped or admitted this fact. 
 Ethical theism has an idea of Deity quite distinctive 
 from that deduced in purely speculative systems. 
 There can, for theistic world-theory, no more be 
 
 ^ 'History of Philosophy,' vol. iii. p. 421. 
 
248 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 immoralism or unethicism at the heart of things than 
 there can be irrationality. That is to say, its Deity 
 is active and perfect Moral Eeason, no less than it is 
 Supreme Mind or Intellect. It is this which gives to 
 theistic world-view its tremendous moral strength. 
 But theistic world-view does not simply say that 
 moral law is ultimate fact for human mind, and that 
 it represents ultimate fact for Divine Mind, for that 
 would leave too many questions as to moral law un- 
 settled. Its Deity is Himself moral law, and the 
 Seat of ethical truth, and law is not to be conceived 
 as a power above Him or as superior to Him. But 
 even i£ we thus admit God to be the source of all 
 the morahties, we have still the much more difficult 
 task on hand of framing a thoroughly ethicised con- 
 ception of the Deity Himself. The endeavour after 
 this marks the highest advance made by modern 
 thought, the most far-reaching in its effects. But 
 theistic conception must be not only ethical, but vital 
 and effectual. Such a view as I have been describing 
 need have no particular concern with theological 
 ethics, nor base itself exclusively on revelational 
 authority. Its sole concern is with the backgroimd 
 of ethical law and unity in the cosmos, with its call 
 for corresponding ethical force and character in man. 
 This gives theistic world- view a sense of community 
 with the universe, in which God, or the absolute 
 cosmic Self, is not only manifested in, but truly 
 related to, our individual ethical self. The world 
 has need of an objective, all-determining end : it 
 has need of objective moral values. Mere immanent- 
 ism can never suffice : it lacks horizon and outlook 
 on the Eternal. Man's freedom is conditioned in 
 
SOME MODEEN WOELD-THEOEIES 249 
 
 many ways, and it is the man, not purely his will, 
 that is endowed with self -determining power. Thus, 
 on theistic world-view, our power of real self-deter- 
 mination is ethically conserved and promoted or 
 developed. On this view, then, the world-order is 
 in the last result a moral order. How should it be 
 otherwise, when on the rehgious or theistic world- 
 view, the prevenient God has ever been source, 
 ground, and support of Nature, no less than of the 
 moral Uf e of Man *? But that does not mean that we 
 can be content with a purely immanental ethic, for 
 that would be a too aimless and unsatisfying affair. 
 For God is the end, no less than He is the ground, 
 of the world ; and for that reason a transcendental 
 ethic, with its doctrine of end, is required. A world 
 without First Cause and Final End were no world 
 for a rational-moral being. The world has, however, 
 a real, though relative, independence of its own, 
 which must be carefully recognised ; yet is the world 
 by, in, and for, God, and it cannot, therefore, rest in 
 mere this-world ends. Mere this-world ends, no 
 doubt, figure or appear as ends in themselves, but 
 they are never really ultimate and satisfying. In 
 the Christian ethic they become transfigured. The 
 problem for man is to unify the pluraUty of moral 
 ends which he finds on his hands, and this the Chris- 
 tian ethic enables him to do. Yet, on the religious 
 or Christianly theistic world-view, there is no turn- 
 ing away from, or indifference to, the world ; rather, 
 a total reconsecration of the world to God, in and 
 through all human action. All this must be of great 
 consequence for our ethical ideals and our moral con- 
 duct. It is calculated to invest life — and all history 
 
250 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PBOBLEMS 
 
 — ^with the most varied, lofty, and permanent values, 
 so that, in fact, the world itself is indefinitely height- 
 ened and intensified in value. The ethical world- 
 principle involved in a thoroughgoing theistic world- 
 view thus carries in it, in my judgment, an immense 
 and impressive superiority over any other form of 
 world-view. 
 
251 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE PHENOMENOLOGY OF PAIN. 
 
 The problem of pain, the mystery of suffering, is 
 one which has always held the world's attention, 
 and still holds it. More than any other consideration, 
 it has made the belief in Omnipotent Goodness diffi- 
 cult, and interposed an obstacle to theistic view. 
 This, less as the result of any reasoned conviction, 
 than of an instinctive feeling. I am therefore unable 
 to accept Dr D'Arcy's position, that pain is " not a 
 difficulty in the way of belief, but exactly the oppo- 
 site." It is a distinct challenge to theism. 
 
 Pain is a universal fact ; no degree of virtue, no 
 grade of intellect, no height of fortime, nor any 
 fortimate combination of these can bring exemption 
 from its dread sway. It has been said that " the 
 study of mystery in all its forms is the noblest to 
 which the mind of man can devote itself " ; and it 
 is therefore not surprising that the mystery of suffer- 
 ing should have evoked many attempts to deal with 
 it on the part of writers, philosophical and religious. 
 But can we say that these attempts to set out the 
 uses of pain and its beneficent aspects have really 
 gone very far to still the hate of the human heart 
 for this ugly monster that rends and devastates the 
 
252 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLBMS 
 
 lives of so many of the fairest, noblest, most heroic, 
 and most worthy hmnan souls ? It may be true 
 enough to say that " painful sensations are only 
 watchful vedettes upon the outposts of our organism, 
 to warn us of approaching danger. Without these, 
 the citadel of our life would be quickly surprised and 
 taken." It may also be true enough to say that 
 pain is a stimulant to exertion, and that suffering 
 and pain have done their part in training man's 
 nature to its highest reaches of development, so that 
 in a sense his paias are the measure of his greatness. 
 But, granting in full the prophylactic uses of pain, 
 how flimsy and trivial all such considerations appear 
 when the man is confronted with a dire delirium, 
 or a mahgnant trouble, or a long-drawn-out anguish, 
 or a deadly wasting, in lives that are to him dearer 
 almost than his own. Beneficent aspects of some 
 paia are easy enough of discernment ; that of the 
 surgeon's knife, for example, though not of the 
 malady itself ; but the pain that is undeserved, 
 unavailing, unrewarded, unendurable, that seems 
 only sent and void of meaning ; that is the pain 
 which the uprising noblest instincts of man would 
 pluck from the world's heart, and hurl into the 
 abyss. This is no pain that carries in its bosom 
 its own reward, like that of the mother who, for the 
 pain, the weariness, the wakefulness, the tearing 
 anxiety, over her babe, finds an over-payment of 
 deUght. As William James remarks, there is " the 
 remarkable fact that sufferings and hardships do not 
 as a rule abate the love of life ; they seem, on the 
 contrary, to give it a keener zest." All the same, the 
 dogma that pain is no evil may very well be left to 
 
THE PHENOMElSrOLOGY OF PAIN 253 
 
 the Cynic and Stoic schools, for pride were a poor 
 substitute for love and the suffering it brings. It is 
 the meaningless, the apparently purposeless and 
 overwhelming, aspects of suffering and pain, co- 
 extensive with humanity itself, that call for deeper 
 explanation, or at least deeper consideration, than 
 the *' apologias " for pain of philosophers and theolo- 
 gians offer us. PatQ is evil, but the evil is a pheno- 
 menon ; it is real enough, God knows, but that does not 
 keep it from being evidence and sign of some deeper 
 reality behtad it. The more real the phenomenon 
 of pain is — and it is agonisingly real — ^the deeper 
 and more real is the reason, cause, or reality that 
 underlies it, and is represented in it. It is when 
 we forget this, and centre on the pain and suffering 
 as isolated phenomena, that these become to us the 
 alone real, and we lose sense of the unutterable reality 
 and significance behind them. 
 
 It may be asked, — What evidence can be adduced 
 in support of the view now put forward ? Well, 
 there is the consideration that pain and suffering 
 must be regarded, not as isolated phenomena, but as 
 having their place and relation in the whole system 
 of things ; not as they appeal to our sensibilities or 
 feelings only, but as they appear to a calm and reasoned 
 view or conviction of the system of the imiverse, as 
 one designed for the higher ends of being and blessed- 
 ness. Our outlook, both in fact and in imagination, 
 must thus be upon the Whole iq experience. The 
 fulfilment of the eternal order can alone be reahsed 
 through our pain and tribulation. There is an imma- 
 nence of Ethical Deity in the world which ensures 
 that pain and suffering are never inflicted or imposed 
 
254 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLBMS 
 
 for their own sakes, but to subserve higher ends or 
 issueSj whether these are always discernible by us or 
 not. And we must discriminate the pain which is 
 of our own making, which springs from our wilful- 
 ness, self-centredness, and self-contraction, from seek- 
 ing objects which, realised, turn to dust and ashes 
 in our hands — all this lower type of pain we must 
 distinguish from the pain that attends on the growth 
 and expansion of the soul, the pain of its unsatisfied 
 longings and aspirations. Then there is the con- 
 sideration that these perplexing features or sorrowful 
 phenomena are implied or involved in a created 
 system which is limited and finite. They belong to 
 the conditions of finite existence. The imperfections 
 due to our relative being were, in this connection, so 
 centred upon by Leibniz as metaphysical evil, that 
 he failed to come to grips with the more pressing 
 question of moral evil. The finitude of the finite is, 
 properly understood, a necessary finitude. Natural 
 evil — such as pain and disease — is undoubtedly an 
 evil, but is wholly distinct from moral evU, as being 
 part of Divine plan for a moral world ; such physical 
 evil is in idea teleological. ISTatural evils are not 
 wrongs in the sense that moral evils are. It is not 
 enough to say, as is sometimes done, that pain is 
 the incident of our incompleteness ; there may be 
 some departure from the law of the normal type. 
 The organism may fail to adapt itself to its condi- 
 tions. Or some functional failure may take place 
 in the life-process. Lewes viewed pain broadly as a 
 special mode of Sensibihty, dependent on particular 
 neural combinations. Paia, says Bergson, in what 
 is a more definite, but perhaps not a complete accoimt 
 
THE PHENOMEIi^OLOGT OF PAIT^ 255 
 
 of the case, is our consciousness of the persistent 
 but unsuccessful efforts of the tissues to respond, in 
 purposeful manner, to a constantly renewed stimulus. 
 Pain, unlike cognition, is not a relation between the 
 organic subject and an outer object : the relations 
 are here between processes within the organic subject, 
 where their disagreement or disharmony means pain. 
 Natural evils, such as pain, disease, and decay, are, 
 to Christian ethic, not outside Divine Knowledge and 
 regard ; nor do they fail, in some way, to subserve 
 Divine and reasonable purpose, " from seeming evil 
 stiU educing good " for humankind, pitiless as the 
 logic of the universe often seems to be. How pitiless 
 its logic is, Schopenhauer, MiU, and Huxley have 
 shown ; but they did not see, nor do many after 
 thera, that they were dealing only with one aspect 
 of Cosmic reality. Nature or the universe is not 
 unresponsive to man's needs and purposes. If man 
 as organism had had no answering environment, but 
 only one of hostility, neither his improving moral 
 life, nor the civilisation which is the outcome of his 
 moral efforts, would have been. It is just possible, 
 if we may judge from the history of strenuously 
 moral races and empires, that there is less cosmic 
 indifference to morality than men often suppose. 
 But it is, of course, in the moral experience of man 
 that the ethical ideal distinctively appears. And it 
 is the man who has found God in his own moral life, 
 who will best see whatever divine meaning there is 
 in human suffering, pain, and sorrow. There are, in 
 truth, no sorrows of finitude that ethical Deity does 
 not in some way make His own. That, however, 
 without the crude and literal identification suggested 
 
256 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PROBLEMS 
 
 by some philosophers. This, then, is the shining 
 Eeality behind the sad phenomenon. It lightens, 
 though it does not wholly lift, for us " the weary 
 and the heavy weight of all this unintelligible world " ; 
 and if it does not wholly solve the problem for us, 
 that is because here we see but "in part." Our 
 knowledge is Stuclcwerlc — " piece-work," as the German 
 Testament interestingly renders it. Pain, as men 
 have always felt, calls to be explained, and it can be 
 largely explained, both in its psychology, and in its 
 spiritual purpose. But it is extreme, and without 
 any proper warrant, to hold, with Royce, that oxu' 
 suffering is for the fulfihnent or perfecting of God's 
 life, for His perfection knows no such dependence. 
 But it is true that Almighty Love is too ethical ever 
 to have chosen pain — suffering — ^for its final word ; 
 and it is the moral world which has the right to the 
 last word here. Pain cannot be the last word of pain. 
 That is why I have called pain a phenomenon, real, 
 oftentimes awful, as it is. It is but phenomenon, 
 even if all earth " groans in pain together until now." 
 For this bespeaks deUverance, to wit, " the redemption 
 of our body." Meantime we are not required to 
 endorse the view of the Danish philosopher, Soren 
 Kierkegaard, that there is no religion without suffer- 
 ing, that suffering is of the essence of religion — a 
 quite extreme, and very overstrained view indeed. 
 
 If all pain had been abstracted, however, from the 
 world, it is impossible to estimate what loss had been 
 sustained to body and to mind in the loss of stimula- 
 tion to reasoning power, to imaginative effort, to 
 character-building, to enriching sympathy, to nobility 
 of soul. Pain, though evil, has revealing virtue. 
 
THE PHEI^OMEIJfOLOGY OF FAIN 257 
 
 But the heart of man is not easily satisfied, and the 
 evil aspects of the phenomenon of pain will rise at 
 recurring moments, and tempt us to feel righteous 
 by cursing its general maleficence. But that achieves 
 nothing, and is no result of an illuminated view ; it 
 merely shows that the phenomenon has aspects 
 which persist in showing an evil side to us. Pain, 
 in its acutest forms, pins down our consciousness to 
 its own event ; it enchains our personaUty when it 
 would be free. It fastens upon our soul fetters of 
 fear, and calls for the perfect love which casts out 
 fear. For love achieves what no mere reasoning 
 or knowledge can do. That is where many phe- 
 nomenologies of pain fail, and the Buddhist phe- 
 nomenology of pain is one of them. It occupied a 
 large and striking place in Buddhistic thought. Birth, 
 disease, decay, and death were each and all declared 
 " painful " by Buddha ; and Buddhism would give 
 men increased sense of the pain of life. To Buddha, 
 the whole world is constituted by suffering, and 
 nothing but suffering. Life is taken to mean suffer- 
 ing, because it is desire ; and the cause of the suffer- 
 ing is nothing but " thirst." That " thirst " may be 
 a craving for passional gratification. Or it may be 
 a craving for success in the present life. Or it may 
 be the craving for a future life. The root and primal 
 cause of all this suffering is, to Buddha, ignorance ; 
 and ignorance, in the Buddhistic sense, means taking 
 true for false, or false for true. Thus it was a " not 
 knowing." And Buddhism was " perfect knowledge " 
 or Enhghtenment. Buddhist salvation is in and for 
 this life — it is salvation from misery. It is salvation, 
 according to the most recent expositions of Buddhism, 
 
 R 
 
258 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 by losing our individuality in an All wherein is no 
 ego, no attachment to objective things, no discrimiaa- 
 tion of "I" and " ]^ot I." The man himself is 
 supposed to be the cause of his suffering ; so by 
 himself he is to be liberated. It is not the world he 
 needs to be liberated from ; he needs liberation from 
 his selfish attitude towards the world. DeUverance 
 from personal suffering is the great thing ; and it 
 is by a passing iato nothingness. But there is no 
 explication of the problem of pain or suffering in the 
 Buddhistic system. For man to escape from his own 
 misery is a wholly different thing from interpreting 
 it, or seeing higher ends reahsed through suffering. 
 As everything in Buddhism centred round the seeking 
 self — rather than God — Buddhism is ultimately philo- 
 sophy rather than rehgion. But the extinction of 
 desire, and the attempted aboUtion of all personahty, 
 could only be, after aU is said, a meagre, negative, 
 and unsatisfying contribution to the study of the 
 phenomenology of pain. To the positive might of 
 the spirit it does no manner of justice. It was the 
 result of treating the matter as still too exclusively an 
 affair of the intellect, or of knowledge, not of positive, 
 spiritual values. 
 
 Must not one say something of the same kind of 
 the statement of Descartes, that " even in the saddest 
 accidents and the most excruciating sufferings, man 
 can always be contented, if only he knows how to 
 use reason " ? I should be the last to minimise the 
 place and power of reason, but is it possible to claim 
 such a power and potency for the " reason " that 
 obtained in the rationalism of Descartes ? I trow 
 not. Eeason — the fine faculty of perceiving, analysing. 
 
THE PHENOMENOLOGY OF PAIN 259 
 
 synthesising — lacks force in itself before the pain and 
 suffering of life ; it is but the eye of the soul, not the 
 soul itseK. Long before Descartes, men had learned 
 the need for constancy in man's temper and strength 
 in his will, for any such triumph — the need of a 
 courage that dwells not in the cold storage of reason, 
 but in the heart aflame. The possession of a fine, 
 clear, cold Cartesian reason is not such a mother of 
 all the virtues as to render needless such pain — in 
 ourselves or in others — as will " stab " our spirits 
 " broad awake." The phenomenology of pain is 
 difficult to follow up to full heights of explanation, 
 but not a Uttle in that direction may be done. It is 
 when we pass from the limited and definite area or 
 circle, to the ampler range of the nation or of man- 
 kind, that the difficulty increases. Within the narrow 
 spheres of experience we can more readily observe 
 or trace the functionings of pain or suffering as a 
 creative force — ^its power to perfect the soul's nobility, 
 and to wake or educe in other human hearts diviner 
 capacity for love and sympathy. We suffer with the 
 suffering — especially with those we have loved — and 
 their moral force and patient heroic virtue enter into 
 us and achieve this effect of deeper pity and new 
 reverence. And we are left without title to assume 
 that what seems to us perfectly needless and excessive 
 pain is not subserving greater purpose in making perfect 
 the sufferer, and those whose love enfolds him, than we 
 think or know. In the wider spheres, or on the grand 
 scale, of race and country, the overplus, as it seems 
 to us, of pain and suffering cannot be held needless 
 or vain. There is a vicarious principle — a great law 
 of life — at work in such pain, suffering, sacrifice, the 
 
260 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 reach and depth and potency of whose influence none 
 can measure. The phenomenon is here terribly real, 
 profoundly moving, impressive beyond words ; but 
 the reahty behind and underlying that which gives 
 rise to those " abimes de douleur," is unutterably 
 deeper and more significant, could we but discern it. 
 What is the worth of Life if we are not to allow these 
 larger visions of the hidden ethical purposes of its 
 pain, sorrow, anguish, to inspire and exalt it •? The 
 difficulty is, that, in interpreting the phenomenon, 
 we have to rise to deal with — 
 
 ..." the measures and the forms 
 Which an abstract Intelligence supplies 
 Whose Kingdom is where Time and Space are not." 
 
 Nevertheless, we cannot admit that we are put to 
 permanent intellectual confusion, here or anywhere 
 else. Our moral conception of the universe must, 
 in some real degree, rise to meet the case — or perish. 
 There is, to begin with, the pain and suffering of 
 the animal world, whose cruelty, rapacity, bitterness, 
 and conflict have shocked the sensitive nature of 
 man. Yet much which he has imagined, say the 
 masters in science, has been "the reverse of the 
 truth." For what really obtains is related to "the 
 maximum of life and the enjoyment of hfe with the 
 minimum of pata." What we know — or rather, what 
 we think — about pain or suffering in the animal 
 world is so largely imaginative and conjectural, and 
 so little capable of verification, that its value is not 
 great. We are continually guilty of anthropopathism 
 in such matters. But even il we accept a residuimi of 
 truth in the dramatic indictments of Nature's war- 
 
THE PHEl^OMENOLOGY OF PAIN 261 
 
 fare, it is to be remembered that, in the animal 
 kingdom, we are in a sphere where the rational modes 
 of development, characteristic of man, do not, and 
 cannot, obtain ; and that these lower and more 
 violent modes, prefiguring the warfare of man, and 
 of the soul of man, at least leave the world more 
 congruous with man, in that it travails in patu, to- 
 gether with him. Grotesque enough, as things are, 
 are the maladjustments and disharmonies of man, 
 but at least they are not so unspeakably grotesque 
 as they would have been in a world with no darkened 
 background in ligature. An aesthetic consideration, 
 it may be said, but an ethical one as well. The 
 actual conditions are serious enough. But science 
 has done Uttle for us if we still cannot see the wood 
 for the trees — cannot transfer attention from some 
 incidental harsh features to the broad significant 
 divisions, and the extended lines of orderly develop- 
 ment, in the whole animal world. Whatever pro- 
 pensities, variations, and abnormahties may be found 
 in I^ature, we surely need not think of i^Tature only 
 in terms of chaos and of strife ; science may surely 
 provide thought with materials for reflection in terms 
 of order, harmony, and law. For you reaUy do not 
 know the world of organisms and functions until you 
 know and appreciate them in whole, and in relation 
 to the entire nature-system. Hence it does not seem 
 to me that scientific view in such matters is to be 
 placed behind less-informed, more sentimental notions, 
 and it is the latter which have come most into view. 
 This sphere is less one of abstract justice than of 
 sympathetic human impulse, it should also be remem- 
 bered. For it is part of man's duty, in proper and 
 
262 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 legitimate ways, to mitigate the cruelty of iN'atm'e in 
 respect of the siiffering animal world. The lower is 
 to be interpreted in terms of the higher, and we 
 should need to know more of the whole economy 
 of the imiverse before we allowed the grim things of 
 the animal world to be any final obstacle to faith or 
 higher view. This, although Nature with her fierce- 
 ness — her helium omnium — is a troublesome enough 
 problem, on which hmiting, abating, and reUeving, 
 but scarcely final, words can be said. For no couleur 
 de rose view of I^ature is possible, when aU is said, 
 before the destruction, waste, and suffering of the 
 world, as it appears to us at any rate. But this 
 appearance is so heavily discounted from the side of 
 scientific considerations, that it must be subordinated 
 to larger view and more certain aspects of the case. 
 
 When we pass from animal suffering up to human 
 suffering the atmosphere grows clearer ; for here we 
 have " inside " knowledge — are experients, and not 
 merely observers. We are deahng with egos — ^that 
 feel, that " look before and after," in which fact lies 
 so much of the sting of pain. That, of course, is not 
 to say that the mystery of suffering is cleared up, 
 or a speculative solution of it found, but it does 
 mean that a flood of light falls upon the problem, 
 and fills it with meaning. We shaU still find much 
 made of pain by Pessimism, for what are really dis- 
 appointed hedonistic reasons. Pessimism has its 
 varieties, " reasoned " or merely temperamental, or 
 catching, from its influences of wider character or 
 import. But it refuses to make pleasure other than 
 an empty negation, or to regard it as no less positive 
 than pain, from which it is quahtatively different. 
 
THE PHEN0ME:N^0L0GY op pain 263 
 
 Pessimism does not assume a very courageous or 
 virile attitude, nor an entirely just one either, when 
 it makes so much of man's natural shrinking from 
 pain, and surrenders to weakness, without proper 
 allowance for all the benefits to character and progress 
 "vhich accrue from pain. It loses sight of the question 
 of value, ia the pure view of painfulness. It always 
 fails to idealise. But still, there is always much ia 
 the world- conditions around us that ministers to 
 pessimism, and beyond the sad fact of human suffer- 
 ing, there is what is supposed to be pessimism's 
 crowning support in the awful fact of death, whose 
 dark shadow ever lies athwart the universe. For i£ 
 death be taken as a flnahty, and not as mere phe- 
 nomenon, then is the destruction of human values 
 and of the moral worth of man's highest efforts, so 
 complete, the sacrifice of his most sacred and tender 
 affections, so utter and unrelieved, that the crushing 
 sense of vanity and nothingness seems a natural 
 result. But this paralysis of man's spirit, consequent 
 on the view of death as a finality, is so intolerable to 
 normally-developed man as to make that view un- 
 believable and absurd. It is a view which stresses 
 death rather than life, or, in the words of a German 
 proverb, " Zu viel zum Sterben, und nicht genug 
 zum Leben." For life shaU on and upward go — 
 such life as knows itself. Goodness is not so banished 
 from the universe : through the ages runs one in- 
 creasing purpose — a purpose which is not phenomenal, 
 but is Noumenal Eeality — a purpose of eternal and 
 redemptive love for humanity, in whose outworkiag 
 death is discounted — ^nay, " abolished " — and the 
 highest ideals of humanity are realised in the Eternal. 
 
264 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 Death is a freeing from mortal hindrances ; it means 
 the final fulfilment and utter supremacy of the soul, 
 But pessimism, in its almost diseased introspection — 
 its insistence that life is will, and will is egoism — 
 thrusts its monstrously exaggerated image of the 
 self between the individual and the universe, and 
 drags in its train disillusion, world-weariness, and 
 self-contempt. It is a false philosophy of hinnan 
 nature to begin with, since wiU is meant for love, not 
 for egoism, and love is destined for joy. Life is not 
 mere will, but power of rational seK-determinatioE. 
 Even Metzsche holds that the great — and to him the 
 philosophers are the greatest — are happy in their 
 lot, are thankful for existence. Able and interesting 
 as are the analyses of pain and pleasure given us by 
 Schopenhauer and Hartmann, the latter of whom 
 regards all wilhng as involving a surplus of pain and 
 consequent misery of existence, they are, in both 
 instances, marked by very glaring oversights. What 
 is more serious is, that pessimism is radically weak 
 on the moral side, I mean, in its grasp of man as a 
 moral personality, and indeed thorough-going pessi- 
 mism is possible only on an atheistical basis. It 
 entirely fails to understand that no soul ever comes 
 to its own which has not passed through the cleansing 
 fires of tragic sorrow. Pessimism, as carried through 
 even by a Hartmann, is a philosophy of despair. It 
 is scarcely a satisfactory procedure to say, with Pro- 
 fessor SuHy, that its answer must be sought within 
 the limits of experience, i£ experience is to be narrowed 
 to a mere observing of facts, and without recognising, 
 for example, that the knowledge of God belongs to 
 experience — in which it begins, and on which it rests. 
 
THE PHENOMENOLOGY OF PAIN 265 
 
 If pessimism is deficient in higher experience, that is, 
 in my view, a defect to be charged against it, not an 
 accommodation to be made to it. It is difficult to 
 see how, in a universe which should be a moral system, 
 the education, discipline, and development of man 
 could be carried out without his susceptibility to 
 pain, sorrow, suffering. At any rate, it never has 
 been shown. We are not here, be it remembered, as 
 mere instruments of the Divinity, we are reasonable, 
 free, and independent agents. The suffering and 
 conflict of the world have been the accompaniments of 
 the whole economic, intellectual, and social evolution 
 of the race. The whole problem of pain, which is a 
 portentous fact caUing for explanation, can therefore 
 only be dealt with by comprehensive conception and 
 solution — a fact too often overlooked. If life is merely, 
 as the pessimist suggests, something floated on the 
 swoUen waters of desire, then must experience be 
 empty and unsatisfactory enough. Life, at the level 
 of the desires, caUs for a new and deeper centre ; for 
 there it is not grounded in righteousness. " He that 
 loseth his life for My sake shaU find it " is a saying 
 to whose meaning the pessimist has never pierced. 
 But, as said Goethe — 
 
 " Till this truth thou knowest, 
 * Die to live again ' — 
 Stranger-like thou goest 
 In a world of pain." 
 
 A certain modified pessimism, however, has its measure 
 of truth, and is more in place than an unbridled or 
 unchastened optimism. Such was the pessimism of 
 Paid and of Pascal, of Augustine and of Kant, and of 
 many another who, in our time, felt the needs of man's 
 
266 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 suffering soul to be far too deep for cure by any 
 political panacea or any mere aesthetical satisfaction. 
 But yet I think our pessimistic moods or phases 
 belong to the doldrums of thought : in the day of 
 clear vision, when mind and soul, according well, 
 lay hold on the vast objective interests of life, intel- 
 lectual and moral, on its abiding satisfactions amid 
 its unquenchable cognitive and spiritual aspirations 
 and possibilities, our pessimisms shrink to their native 
 and normal insignificance. Immense possibilities of 
 pain and suffering, no doubt, are, on the assurance 
 of science, securely planted in the constitution and 
 history of the world in which we Uve. Pain and 
 suffering are the inescapable price of all its higher 
 evolution and its cultural development. Christianity 
 itself recognises the need and the reahty of suffering ; 
 if it did not, it would heavily discount its own remedial 
 power and efficacy. But suffering is essentially sub- 
 jective, and cannot be objectively measured in any 
 satisfactory fashion. The problem is too varied, 
 subtle, relative, and complex to come within the 
 statistical realm at all.^ Far more pertinent is the 
 sadly unequal, often apparently unjust, way in which 
 suffering is distributed. This can only be related to 
 the higher values developed in the suffering individual 
 through pain. The subUmest attributes of personaUty 
 are thereby awakened. Christianity's reminder is 
 that He, Who is by pre-eminence termed the Man of 
 Sorrows, was Himself perfected only through suffering, 
 and has sanctified all sufferings by His own. Hence 
 a great mystic said : " The swiftest steed that bears 
 
 ^ How hard it were to " measure '' pain ia finely brought out in the 
 'Heracles' of Euripides, 1. 1251. 
 
THE PHENOMEISrOLOGY OF PAIN 267 
 
 you to perfection is suffering." But not the suffering 
 that is merely pessimistically borne. For, as a 
 philosopher of our time has said: *'It is a step of 
 momentous importance for the world's history that 
 Christianity should for the first time have appreciated 
 suffering as a whole, attacked it as a whole, under- 
 taken to subdue it as a whole. For its concern with 
 suffering does not imply any intention of surrendering 
 to it, or lingering over it in weak sentimentahty. 
 The object is rather to rise by means of it to a higher 
 level, and to confront it with a world of love and 
 faith." For life, as Wordsworth said, " is energy of 
 love " ; it is the redemption of him — 
 
 " Wer immer strebend sich bemiiht." 
 
 I have already spoken of the psychology of pain, 
 but its analysis, when regarded simply as a feeling, 
 has proved very baffliug to psychologists. Many of 
 its other aspects are much more easily analysed. 
 But what I am now mainly concerned to think of 
 is pain as belonging to the man — ^to his sensitive 
 suffering spirit — rather than to his body, or to that 
 part of it which feels pain. For his body is but the 
 organisation of a spirit. That is why pain is so real, 
 though phenomenal. And it is a fact so universal 
 that Shelley could say : " Ocean of life, whose waters 
 of deep woe," for waters of deep woe they often 
 enough are. You may suffer in your friend's suffer- 
 ing, says Epictetus, even to the extent of groaning 
 aloud. But you must not "groan," he enjoins, "in 
 the centre of your being." Excellent counsel for a 
 Stoic philosopher, but lacking in sufficient reason 
 or motive force. What nobility can there conceivably 
 
268 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 be in blinding the soul to the reality of pain, and in 
 steeling the heart in inhuman self-suppression and 
 self-sufficingness ? But the Christian attitude is a 
 truly virile and more rational one, having behind 
 its new and unexampled insight into the tremendous 
 range and variety of the world's pain, a recognition 
 that the spirit of man is greater than the spirit of 
 fear — the fear of paia^ and a recognition, further, 
 that, behind all suffering and pain, an overshadowing 
 ZSToumenal Eeahty abides, and transmutes pain to 
 power and value, suffering to strength and wisdom. 
 "Fear of pain," said a thinking physician, "is the 
 source of aU temptation." It is not pain, but the 
 bearing or behaviour towards pain, which makes the 
 personahty real and great. The true philosophy of 
 human nature demands a triumphant attitude over 
 the fear of pain, if character is to be strong and great. 
 As Emily Bronte has it, where " faith shines equal, 
 arming me from fear." If the sensational in experi- 
 ence — pain in consciousness — ^may not be despised, it 
 must at least be transcended. Consciousness must 
 be swallowed up in the love that casts out fear. If 
 Christianity begins its work in us by deepening the 
 pain of pessimism, it also gives it more ethical char- 
 acter, and finally overcomes it by calling out our 
 forces of faith and love, will and courage. But 
 Christianity is a spiritual magnitude, and holds no 
 physical remedy for the anguished sufferings that fall 
 on those we hold most dear ; it can but assure us, 
 in our tragic sense of powerlessness, that, through 
 these, is their true destiny fulfilled. This world is 
 process, not product, and life in it is a drama, with 
 its tragic suffering illumined only by progressive 
 
THE PHENOMENOLOGY OF PAIN 269 
 
 revelation of the Divine Ptirpose behind its pain. 
 But the truly telic characters of pain belong to the 
 spiritual sphere, where we have passed beyond the 
 lower conditions of the physical order, a fact not 
 always carefully remembered. And of that sphere we 
 may say, as is done in ' Macbeth ' — 
 
 "Therein the patient must minister to himself." 
 
 I mean that as moral beings our independence is 
 rooted in our self-activity, which ever has the power 
 to raise itself above the facts and phenomena of pain 
 to the ideal ends or purposes subserved by them. 
 But that is no reason why we should exclude from our 
 study those pain-laden forces or conditions which 
 often form the context of such higher experience. 
 Science has brought us no great comfort by merely 
 showing that pain is but a special kind of psychic 
 experience. There must be no scientific complacency, 
 for the hmits of scientific power and resource are, 
 in respect of pain, reached very soon indeed. There 
 are still hosts of insidious foes to be warded off, and 
 troops of invisible germs, now running riot in the 
 tissues of the human body, to be outwitted, overcome, 
 or defeated. Yet withal science has a cheering tone 
 compared with that of pessimism, for science does 
 not share the gloomy notions of the latter, that pain 
 is a necessary factor of aU conscious life, and is no 
 temporary condition or phenomenal feature, but an 
 increasingly large factor in the development of life's 
 higher forms. But pain is stiU with us, a piercing 
 and killing fact, inexphcable and beyond appeal to 
 argument for the experient — ^the sufferer. Pain is a 
 hydxa-headed monster, which is no sooner overcome 
 
270 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 in existing forms than it reappears in new and appal- 
 ling guises. Beyond all its individual manifestations 
 or appearances, pain partakes of the solidarity of 
 the race and the world. It is this vast penetrative 
 power and influence that makes pain such a serious 
 phenomenon. In this comprehensive aspect of things 
 it would be vain and superficial to forget how pro- 
 foundly the order of the world, as intentioned by 
 God, has been disturbed by the sin of man as a free 
 moral agent ; for, although pain has no proper place 
 in the world at all, it has, in consequence, become 
 inwrought with the whole texture of the life of the 
 human race. All that we can do for the suffering 
 individual is to point out how pain can be turned into 
 the highest good — transcendent spiritual value- It is 
 not meant, in what has just been said, that Divine 
 plan for the world has been frustrated by evil, for 
 Divine wisdom has so much the more brought out the 
 triumphant power of the good, and its ultimate 
 vanquishment of the phenomena of evil and pain. 
 I have been speaking of the phenomenology of 
 pain, but this phenomenological aspect is bound to 
 the noumenal aspect, which latter forms its under- 
 lying essence. I have broadly suggested this under- 
 lying and supporting Eeality, the two aspects being 
 most closely correlated. The phenomenon is only an 
 appearance of this noumenal reahty. The reaUty of 
 Divine presence and purpose behiad all our pain — 
 which, on the religious view of the world, is sent 
 for the purifying and perfecting of our character — 
 belongs to the noumenal aspect, the abiding reality 
 of things, which change and suffering cannot touch. 
 
THE PHEITOMENOLOGY OF PAIN 271 
 
 Pain calls for reasons which will nerve the soul to 
 endnrance ; and not by centring in hinaseK alone, 
 nor by a stoical apathy, will he gain what he needs, 
 but by the " Power " that is " perfected amid weak- 
 ness." The consciousness is then his, that his life is 
 bound to the highest Power, the Divinest Love, and 
 this grounds his very being and existence, and is 
 deeper than all pain. 
 
 "'Tis the weakness in strength, that I cry for ! 
 My flesh, that I seek 
 In the Godhead ! I seek and I find it." 
 
 Schopenhauer says : " If we are in great bodily 
 pain, or the pain lasts a long time, we become in- 
 different to other troubles ; all we think about is to 
 get well. In the same way great mental suffering 
 makes us iasensible to bodily pain ; we despise it ; 
 nay, if it should outweigh the other, it distracts our 
 thoughts, and we welcome it as a pause in mental 
 suffering." This is expressive of the phenomenology 
 of pain, in one of its relative characters or aspects, 
 and it is true that physical pain, as more definitely 
 locaUsed, can, for a time at least, act thus as a remedy 
 for mental pain. Hence the Eussian novelist, Gogol, 
 speaks of his hero in ' Dead Souls ' as " enjoying the 
 paiu by which he strove to deaden the unquenchable 
 torture of his heart." On occasion Metzsche, too, 
 goes so far as to say that, " in itself there is no pain," 
 while William James says, " ho one pretends that 
 pata as such only appears like pain, but in itself is 
 different." But though Schopenhauer can, on occa- 
 sion, so give expression to the phenomenological 
 
272 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 aspects of paiiij yet no philosopher of modem times 
 has, so much as he — and that is his merit — com- 
 pelled the world to reahse what real and serious 
 factors are its pains, its sufferings, and physical evils. 
 But he, in his pessimistic reaction against the sar- 
 donic optimism of Hegel, neither explains the phe- 
 nomena, nor suggests any mode of viewing them that 
 may mean alleviation of them. How could he, when, 
 in his own system, such reason and order, as are in 
 the world, appear only as stragglers late for the fair, 
 to find unreason, caprice, chaos, and mal-adaptation, 
 already throned in state 1 Of no one could it be more 
 truly said that his " reason rooted in unreason stood." 
 IS'ot content with the foUy of disjoining Primal WiU 
 — ^which he identified with non-intelhgent iastinct — 
 from Intelhgence, he went on, as we saw in our last 
 chapter,^ to the glariag confusion involved in identify- 
 ing being and evil. To him, pain, suffering, sorrow, 
 are real and positive ; what is negative is, happiness 
 — the absence of paia. The relativity of paia he does, 
 no doubt, assert, but it is to the will. To him the 
 vohtions of Mfe — in serial form — are expressive of 
 want, privation, unsatisfied desire, and mean a con- 
 stant sense of suffering and sorrow. But what an 
 inversion of the true phenomenology of pain his 
 presentation offers. Paia is left as the last word of 
 paia : it is being and end, not means. But it may 
 not be an unsuitable correlative to his grim view of 
 the Primal Will, as without moral purpose, and 
 indifferent to man and human reason. The view is, 
 in whole, blind to the tremendous moral values 
 wrapped up in pain. Even though Schopenhauer 
 
 ■* Chapter viii. 
 
THE PHENOMENOLOGY OF PAIN 273 
 
 makes a passing admission that " all suffering, since 
 it is a mortification and a call to resignation, has 
 potentially a sanctifying power." Yet Schopenhauer 
 had a fine redeeming sense of admiration for true 
 saintUness. Pain may be the gateway to the realisa- 
 tion of the very highest values. But how seldom do 
 we realise the terrific cost of value. Value, it is said, 
 is aristocratic and individual,^ yet let us not forget 
 that it can be so leveUing that the humblest sufferer 
 may reaUse a higher value than the most brilhant 
 scholar or the most superb statesman. Considerations 
 these which are fitted to induce an overpowering sense 
 of humility. 
 
 The true phenomenology of pain is far enough from 
 the view of its being a mere by-product of the cosmic 
 process, of no particular bearing beyond the sinister 
 significance it carries for the sufferer himself. On 
 the contrary, pain as a fact of organic life is so in- 
 woven with the very tissue and teleological ends of 
 life — with the nature of our will and consciousness — 
 as to form part of the Divine world-plan in upbuilding 
 the spiritual universe. But it is there as a phenomenon 
 — as means, not end itself. Even when the human 
 pathway that leads to the City of God becomes one 
 of torture and of tears, an agony and bloody sweat, 
 it is still phenomenon we are beholding, behind whose 
 tragic setting or dread appearance is the Noumenal 
 EeaUty of the Absolute Moral Purpose, as the real 
 thing, that shall know no end. For it is in no pur- 
 poseless Omnipresence that we live and move and 
 have our being, but in One of Whose ethical and 
 redemptive purpose pain and suffering form at present 
 
 ^ Cf. B. Bosanquet, 'Some Suggestions in Ethics,' p. 69. 
 S 
 
274 GEEAT PHILOSOPHICAL PEOBLEMS 
 
 an essential and somehow beneficent part. In fine, the 
 religious man, however undeserved his pain, finds the 
 Noumenal Eeahty of the universe in the Voluntas Dei, 
 in Whose begetting and sustaining and perfecting 
 of all things is light, and no final shadow of pain 
 at all. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Abelard, 176. 
 
 Absolute, the, 12, 16, 38, 137, 
 140, 142, 143, 146, 160, 161, 
 169, 178, 181, 183, 187, 198, 
 235, 237, 238, 239, 240. 
 
 Activity, 93, 95, 96, 97, 99, 100, 
 102, 103, 108, 122, 123, 124, 
 128, 129, 131, 132, 133, 135, 
 150, 154, 157, 220, 233, 242, 
 269. 
 
 Aesthetics, 35, 102, 142, 236, 239, 
 261, 266. 
 
 Agnosticism, 95, 160. 
 
 Albertus Magnus, 53, 67, 207. 
 
 Alexandrian wisdom, 172. 
 
 * American Journal of Religious 
 Psychology, The,' 136. 
 
 Anselm, 147, 176. 
 
 Aquinas, 9, 10, 25, 31, 42, 118, 
 119, 138, 147, 148, 176, 208, 
 209, 242. 
 
 Arabian philosophers, the, 53. 
 
 ' Aristotelian Society, Proceed- 
 ings of,' 11, 16, 18, 48. 
 
 Aristotle, 86, 97, 116, 136, 144, 
 171, 172. 173, 227. 
 
 Arnold, E. V., 52, 174. 
 
 Athanasius, 204, 218. 
 
 Athenagoras, 174. 
 
 Attention, 98. 
 
 Augustine, 9, 10, 20, 128, 144, 
 145, 148, 175, 204, 205, 206, 
 221, 265. 
 
 Aveling, F., 11. 
 
 Avenarius, 105, 107. 
 
 Baldwin, J. M., 175. 
 
 Baumgarten, 32. 
 
 Beauty, 31-35, 37. 
 
 Beethoven, 70. 
 
 Being, category of, 14, 20, 21, 22, 
 23, .35, 43, 131, 132, 138, 139, 
 140, 141, 143, 144, 145, 146, 
 148, 149, 150, 151, 152, 154, 
 155, 156, 157, 159, 160, 161, 
 169, 181, 208, 214, 231, 
 237. 
 
 Bergson, 21, 143, 199, 254. 
 
 Bernard of Clairvaux, 208. 
 
 'Bibliotheca Sacra, The,' 217, 
 244. 
 
 Binet, 112. 
 
 Biology, 105, 244, 254, 255. 
 
 Boethius, 147. 
 
 Bolzano, 19. 
 
 Bonatelli, 152. 
 
 Bonaventura, 208. 
 
 Bosanquet, 48, 49, 50, 51, 61, 
 100, 273. 
 
 Bossuet, 202. 
 
 Boutroux, 244. 
 
 Bradley, 7-9, 11, 12, 21, 24, 33, 
 45, 115, 118, 119,120, 121, 127, 
 128, 131, 178, 179. 
 
 Brahmanism, 230, 232. 
 
 Broad, C. D., 38. 
 
 Bronte, E., 268. 
 
 Browning, 153. 
 
 Bruno, 74. 
 
 Buddhism, 230, 232, 257, 258. 
 
 Butler, 57. 
 
276 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Caird, E., 88. 
 
 Calvin, 176. 
 
 Carlyle, 74, 77. 
 
 Carua, P., 137. 
 
 Catholicism, 211. 
 
 Chalybaus, 101, 234. 
 
 Christ, 174, 186, 215, 219, 222. 
 
 Clement, 172, 204. 
 
 Cognition, 85, 86, 89, 93, 94, 96, 
 97. 100, 101, 102, 104, 121, 
 126, 129, 130, 131, 132, 161, 
 255. See also Knowledge. 
 
 Cognitive acts, 84-107. 
 
 Cohen, H., 93. 
 
 Coleridge, 153, 177. 
 
 Condillac, 114. 
 
 Conscience, 60, 61. 
 
 Consciousnese, 89, 90, 92, 93, 94, 
 97, 100, 123, 128, 129, 130, 131, 
 133, 135, 139, 140, 141, 142, 
 152, 153, 154, 155, 156, 160, 
 170, 183, 206, 215, 218, 224, 
 225, 235, 236, 238, 245, 257, 
 268 ; the ethical, 47, 69-73, 
 170, 199, 230, 236, 237, 241, 
 246; the ontological, 138-161, 
 181, 206, 215; the religious, 
 143, 155, 156, 157, 159, 160, 
 161, 170, 183, 190, 198, 203, 
 205, 211, 213, 215, 222, 223, 
 240. 
 
 'Constructive Quarterly, The,' 
 211. 
 
 Cornford, F. M., 168. 
 
 Creighton, J. E., 63, 164. 
 
 Cromwell, 70. 
 
 Cynics, the, 253. 
 
 D' Alfonso, N. R., 110. 
 
 D'Arcy, C. R, 48, 251. 
 
 Darwin, 74, 199. 
 
 Deism, 188. 
 
 Democritus, 227. 
 
 De Sarlo, F., 125. 
 
 Descartes, 74, 148, 211, 258, 259. 
 
 Determinism, 194, 195. 197. 
 
 Dewey, J., 9, 12. 
 
 De Wulf, M., 148. 
 
 Dorner, A., 142. 
 
 Dualism, 96, 176, 186, 210. 
 
 Eckhart. 148, 205, 208, 211. 
 
 Ehrenfels, 37. 
 
 Eliot, G., 82. 
 
 Emerson, 48, 165, 197. 
 
 Epictetus, 267. 
 
 Epicureans, the, 17, 247. 
 
 Epistemology, 86, 90, 92, 93, 94, 
 96, 97, 104, 105, 107, 115. 
 
 Erdmann, J. E., 10, 13. 
 
 Erigena, 176, 207. 
 
 Ethics, 80, 81, 193, 194, 228, 229, 
 230, 232, 233, 235, 236, 237, 
 238, 239, 240, 241, 246, 247, 
 261. 
 
 Eucken, R., 74. 
 
 Euripides, 266. 
 
 Evolution, 199,214,238. 
 
 Experience, 36, 75, 87, 89, 105, 
 109, 131, 132, 133, 135, 140, 
 155, 156, 170, 181, 194, 197, 
 200, 210, 218, 242, 259, 264. 
 
 Fairbanks, A., 132. 
 
 Faith, philosophy and, 162-201. 
 
 Feeling, 97, 98, 109, 110, 116, 
 
 118, 128, 129, 132, 133, 134, 
 
 135, 139, 164, 165, 186, 218. 
 F^nelon, 217. 
 Fichte, 4, 60-62, 95, 113, 114, 
 
 150, 151, 167, 212, 213, 229. 
 Fischer, Kuno, 10, 212. 
 Fouill^e, 115. 
 Fraser, A. C, 162. 
 Freedom, 117, 188, 189, 192, 193, 
 
 194-197, 214, 216, 217, 225, 
 
 248. 
 
 Gabirol, 53. 
 
 Genius, 70, 81. 
 
 Gizycki, 72. 
 
 Gnosticism, 172. 
 
 Goethe, 33, 76, 153, 191, 265. 
 
 Gogol, 271. 
 
 Goodness, 2, 3, 28, 35, 37, 251, 
 
 263. 
 Good, the, 27-31, 33, 34, 81, 82, 
 
 233, 238. 
 Gordon, G. A., 168. 
 Greek speculation, 168, 170, 172, 
 
 173, 174. 
 
INDEX 
 
 277 
 
 Green, T. H., 77, 165, 179-181, 
 
 203. 
 Gregory Nazianzen, 206. 
 Gregory the Great, 208. 
 Guyau, 245. 
 
 Haldane, R. B., 203. 
 
 Halevi, 53. 
 
 Hartmann, 232, 234, 235, 236, 
 237, 238, 239, 240, 246, 246, 
 264. 
 
 Hatch, E., 173. 
 
 Hegel, 10, 32, 38, 40, 42, 46, 53, 
 54, 58, 104, 105, 106, 107, 127, 
 128, 151, 152, 163, 168, 184, 
 186, 212, 214, 215, 229, 234, 
 
 247, 272. 
 Heraclitus, 174. 
 Herder, 82. 
 
 *Hibbert Journal, The,' 207. 
 
 Hippolytus, 174. 
 
 Historicism, 139, 160, 174, 180, 
 
 185, 208, 210, 211, 216, 219, 
 
 221 223. 
 History, 138, 173, 175, 194, 211, 
 
 214, 221, 222, 223, 224, 226, 
 
 246, 249, 255, 267. 
 Hodgson, S. H., 144. 
 Hoffding, 17, 18, 30, 65, 110, 
 
 114, 118, 131, 218. 
 'Holborn, Review, The,' 158, 
 
 217, 222. 
 Hugo, v., 153. 
 Hume, 109, 118, 165. 
 Husserl, 7, 88, 107. 
 Huxley, 255. 
 
 Idea. 115, 120, 121, 124, 130, 133, 
 143, 164, 171, 214, 215, 222, 
 229 231 233 
 
 Idealism, 85, 187, 216, 226, 246. 
 
 Identity, 129, 143, 181,214, 236. 
 
 Immanence, 141, 169, 187, 188, 
 189, 190, 191, 205, 219, 237, 
 
 248, 249, 253. 
 Immortality, 83, 146, 150, 153, 
 
 157, 192, 197-200, 214. 
 Individuality, 44-83, 158, 194, 
 199, 230, 243, 258; Albertus 
 Magnus on, 53 ; Arabian phil- 
 
 osophers on, 53 J Bosanquet 
 on, 48, 49, 50, 51 ; Bradley on, 
 45 ; Fichte on, 60-62 ; Hegel 
 on, 46, 53, 54 ; Herder and, 
 82; Hoffding on, 65, 76; 
 Jewish Mediaeval philosophers 
 on, 53 ; Kant on, 53, 67, 68 ; 
 Leibniz on, 53 ; Middle Ages 
 and, 53 ; Mill on, 56, 57 ; 
 Mtinsterberg on, 64 ; nature 
 of, 44-46, 51, 52, 61-64, 66-69, 
 70-73, 75, 76-79 ; Neo-Platon- 
 ists on, 52 ; Nietzsche on, 65, 
 74 ; Origen on, 63 ; Plotinus 
 on, 52 ; Royce on, 50, 59, 71 ; 
 Schleiermacher on, 54, 55 ; 
 Schopenhauer on, 54 ; Scotism 
 on, 53 ; Society and, 46-50, 58, 
 69, 65,66,71-73,77,78; State 
 and, 56-59, 74, 75 ; Thomism 
 on, 53 ; unity of, 45, 66, 67, 
 75, 76, 77, 81, 82, 83; worth 
 of, 44, 46, 60-64, 66-68, 69, 70- 
 73, 75, 76, 78, 79, 80, 81-83. 
 Irenteus, 174, 204. 
 
 Jacobi, 167, 177, 186. 
 James, 2, 9, 16, 56, 252, 271. 
 Jewish Medifeval philosophers, 
 
 the, 53. 
 Joachim, H. H., 9. 
 Jodl, F., 179. 
 Johnson, 74, 
 Justin Martyr, 174, 175. 
 
 Kant, 2, 10, 31, 32, 33, 42, 53, 
 62, 67. 68, 94, 95, 102, 104, 107. 
 116, 151, 160, 163, 177, 185, 
 212, 213, 216, 233, 265. 
 
 Keats, 31. 
 
 Kepler, 38. 
 
 Kierkegaard, S., 256. 
 
 Knowledge, 5, 84, 86, 87, 88, 89, 
 90, 91, 94, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99, 
 100. 102, 103, 104, 105, 106, 
 107, 112, 113, 123, 124, 127, 
 128, 134, 140, 141, 144, 145, 
 154, 156, 158, 166, 167, 179, 
 181, 186, 208, 211, 235, 236, 
 257, 258. See also Cognition. 
 
278 
 
 mDEX 
 
 Krause, 152. 
 Kulpe, 132. 
 
 Ladd, G. T., 13, 14, 125, 127, 
 
 132, 140, 158. 
 Lange, 42, 184. 
 Laurie, S. S., 180. 
 Leibniz, 20, 53, 86, 101, 113, 
 
 128. 150, 167, 227, 229, 234, 
 
 254. 
 Leasing, 221, 222. 
 Leuba, J. H., 136. 
 L6vy-Bruhl, 48, 49. 
 Lewes, 254. 
 
 Libertarianiam, 195, 196. 
 Liberty, 46, 61. 
 Lindsay, J., articles by, 14, 30, 
 
 103, 146, 150. 158, 173, 177, 
 207, 211, 217, 222, 229, 244; 
 works by, 30, 119, 172, 173, 
 174, 192. 
 
 Locke, 13, 129, 144, 176. 
 Logic, 13, 14, 15, 18, 19, 25, 27, 
 
 104, 235. 
 
 Logos. 170, 173, 174, 218. 
 Lotze, 10, 19, 25, 27, 28, 29, 30, 
 
 34, 95, 107. Ill, 246. 
 Luther, 205, 211. 
 
 Macdonald, G.. 220. 
 
 Maimonides, 53. 
 
 Malebranche, 149, 221. 
 
 Martineau. 231. 
 
 Materia ism. 184, 226. 
 
 Mathematics, 13, 15. 
 
 Maurice, F. D., 219. 
 
 Maya, 230. 
 
 Meinong. 37. 
 
 Metaphysics, 105, 124, 130, 139, 
 140, 141, 142, 143, 144, 149, 
 150, 155, 156, 157, 158, 161, 
 170, 174, 184, 193, 194, 205, 
 206, 215, 222, 223, 224, 225, 
 228, 229, 230, 235, 238. 
 
 Meumann, 119, 136. 
 
 Middle Ages, the, 53, 207. 
 
 Mill, 13, 255. 
 
 Milton. 74. 
 
 *Mind,' 12, 38. 65, 119, 120, 121, 
 125. 
 
 Monism, 102, 135, 137, 159, 208, 
 
 209, 236, 237. 
 
 'Monist, The,' 150, 173, 177, 
 
 229. 
 Monotheism, 174, 214. 
 Montesquieu, 149, 150. 
 Moral obligation, 81, 239, 245. 
 Morell. J. D., 163. 
 Morgan, Lloyd, 16, 18. 
 Miinsterberg, 8, 64, 130. 
 Mysticism, 202, 205, 208, 209, 
 
 210, 215, 216, 219, 266. 
 
 Naturalism, 241-247. 
 
 Nature, 177, 214. 260, 261, 262. 
 
 Neo-Hegelianiam, 28, 49, 104, 
 
 128. 
 Neo-PIatonism, 52, 148, 169, 175, 
 
 176, 205. 217, 219. 
 Nettleship, R. L., 29. 
 Newman, 74, 180. 
 Newton, 100. 
 Nietzsche, 65, 74, 112, 243, 244, 
 
 245, 264, 271. 
 
 Objectivity, 16. 18, 27, 33, 35, 36, 
 37, 40, 132, 139, 140, 141, 142, 
 157, 160, 184, 229, 236, 239, 
 248, 258, 266. 
 
 Object, the, 84-107. 
 
 Occam. 171, 176, 177. 
 
 Occidental thought, 190. 
 
 Ontological consciousness, the, 
 138-161, 181, 206, 215. 
 
 Ontologism, 149. 
 
 Ontology, 105, 140, 141, 142, 144, 
 145, 146, 148, 151,247. 
 
 Optimism, 227, 238, 272. 
 
 Oriental thought, 190. 
 
 Origen, 53, 174, 204. 
 
 Pain, 239; phenomenology of, 
 251-274; psychology of, 254, 
 255, 256. 
 
 Pantheism, 187, 188, 203, 208, 
 214, 219, 226, 229. 
 
 Pascal, 11, 66, 163, 167, 217, 265. 
 
 Paul, 219, 265. 
 
 Paulsen, 111, 193, 194, 196. 
 
 Pelagianism, 197. 
 
INDEX 
 
 279 
 
 Perception, 99, 103, 109, 130, 
 
 143, 185. 
 Personality of God, U2, 153, 
 
 183, 187, 188, 214. 
 Personality of Man, 142, 154, 
 
 158, 183, 184, 191, 200, 217, 
 
 257. 
 Pessimism, 231, 234, 237, 238, 
 
 239, 240, 241, 262, 263, 264, 
 
 265, 266, 267, 269. 
 Petrarch, 74. 
 Pfleiderer. O., 235. 
 Philo, 170, 173, 174, 176. 
 ' Philosophical Review, The,' 
 
 14, 63, 103, 164, 178. 
 Philosophy, faith and, 162-201. 
 Physiology, 244. 
 Plato, 9, 29, 30, 33, 41, 103, 144, 
 
 171, 172, 227. 
 Platonism, 174, 218. 
 Plotinus, 52, 146, 172, 205, 206, 
 
 207. 
 Pomponazzi, 67. 
 Porphyry, 174. 
 Pragmatism, 9, 17, 21. 
 Proclus, 30, 146, 147, 206, 207. 
 Protestantism, 142, 211. 
 Pseudo-Dionysius, 146, 147, 207, 
 
 211. 
 Psychology, 86, 92, 104, 109, 
 
 111, 112, 115, 116, 117, 122, 
 
 124, 126, 127, 131, 135, 136, 
 
 139. 157, 166, 170, 175, 185, 
 
 194, 225, 254, 255, 256. 
 
 Rationalism, 108-137, 175, 212, 
 213, 258. 
 
 Read, C, 56. 
 
 Realism, the new, 14. 
 
 Reality, 11, 12, 14, 15, 16, 22-24, 
 35, 87, 94, 95, 124, 134, 138, 
 139, 143, 151, 154, 155, 159, 
 161, 179, 183, 184, 185, 218, 
 265, 256, 263, 268, 270, 274. 
 
 Reason, 81, 82, 94, 109, 110, 112, 
 113, 114, 117, 118, 119, 120, 
 121, 122, 124, 125, 131, 133, 
 134, 135, 136, 137, 148, 151, 
 152, 163, 164, 165, 166, 167, 
 168, 169, 170, 171. 172, 173, 
 
 175, 176, 177, 178, 179, 180, 
 181, 182, 185, 194, 196, 201, 
 218, 220, 231, 233, 234, 246, 
 258, 259. 
 
 Reformation, the, 211. 
 
 Rehmke, 133. 
 
 Relation. 88, 90-92, 102, 140, 
 
 168, 170, 181, 186, 188, 214, 
 
 255 
 Religion, 139, 140, 142, 150, 151, 
 
 156, 157, 158, 168, 169, 170, 
 
 176, 181, 183, 184, 185, 186, 
 187, 192, 194, 197, 201, 212, 
 
 213, 214, 215, 218, 225, 236, 
 237, 256, 258. 
 
 Renan, 66, 
 
 Representation, 109, 110, 122, 
 123, 124, 126, 129, 132, 133. 
 
 'Revue de M^taphysique et de 
 Morale,' 30, 146. 
 
 * Revue N^o-Scolastique,' 148. 
 
 Ribot, 118. 
 
 Rickert, 4-7, 18, 37. 
 
 Riehl, 132. 
 
 Rosmini on being, 14, 21, 152 ; 
 on evil, 228 ; on God, 143 ; on 
 ideas, 115, 121 ; on intelli- 
 gence, 121 ; on Kant, 163 ; on 
 sensation, 110, 116, 117. 
 
 Rousseau, 117, 118, 242. 
 
 Royce, 8, 15, 19, 47, 48, 50, 59, 
 71, 111, 114. 115, 160, 161, 
 222, 256. 
 
 Royer-Collard, 83. 
 
 Ruskin, 69. 
 
 Russell, B., 11, 12, 19. 
 
 Ruysbroeck, 209-211. 
 
 Salter, W. M., 112, 244, 
 
 245. 
 Schelling. 149, 152, 159, 212, 
 
 214, 229, 234. 
 Schiller, 31. 
 
 Schiller, F. C. S., 18, 26, 29. 
 
 Schlegel, 203. 
 
 Schleiermacher, 54, 55, 151, 212, 
 
 215, 216. 
 
 Scholastic philosophers, the, 14, 
 88, 89, 101, 144, 168, 169, 
 
 177, 196, 227. 
 
280 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Schopenhauer, 9, 10, 32, 54, 102, 
 107, 111, 112, 133, 134, 186, 
 229, 230, 231, 232, 233, 234, 
 236, 242, 243, 255, 264, 271, 
 272, 273. 
 
 Schuppe, 96. 
 
 Science, 103, 187, 230, 260, 261, 
 266, 269. 
 
 Scotiam, 53. 
 
 Scotus, 176. 
 
 Self, the, 61-66, 72, 73, 76, 78, 
 82, 120, 132, 140, 148, 154, 
 155, 195, 258. 
 
 Seneca, 139, 159. 
 
 Sensation, 110, 116, 252. 
 
 Sextus Empiricus, 103. 
 
 Shakespeare, 70, 269. 
 
 Shand, A. F., 125. 
 
 Shearman, A. T., 19. 
 
 Shelley, 267. 
 
 Socialism, 57, 243. 
 
 Society, 46-50, 58, 59, 65, 66, 
 71-73. 
 
 Socrates, 17, 171. 
 
 Sophists, the, 17. 
 
 Sorel, 240. 
 
 Spencer, 74, 83. 
 
 Spinoza, 74, 75, 103, 107, 215, 
 219, 224. 
 
 Spontaneity, 87, 170. 
 
 State, the, 56-59, 74, 75, 83. 
 
 Stewart, D. , 144. 
 
 Stirling, J. H., 42, 197. 
 
 Stimer, M., 243. 
 
 Stoics, the, 17, 52, 172, 174, 247, 
 
 253, 267. 
 
 Stout, G. F., 117, 126. 
 
 Subjectivity, 27, 37, 132, 134, 
 139, 141, 150, 192, 205, 206, 
 209, 236, 266. 
 
 Subject, the, 84-107. 
 
 Sully, J., 264. 
 
 Taine, 70. 
 
 Tauler, 209. 
 
 Taylor, J., 74. 
 
 Teleology, 227, 236, 239, 240, 
 
 254, 270, 272, 273. 
 Tennyson, 153. 
 
 Teresa 209. 
 
 Theism, 226, 227, 228, 231, 240, 
 247, 251. 
 
 Thomism, 53. 
 
 Thought, 127, 128, 186, 216, 220, 
 242. 
 
 Time,* 121, 145, 146, 208, 
 260. 
 
 Tolstoi, 205. 
 
 Tongiorgi, 14, 20, 144. 
 
 Transcendence, 155, 157, 169, 
 170, 173, 176, 187, 188, 189, 
 190, 191, 205, 245, 249. 
 
 Trendelenburg, 77. 
 
 Trinity, the, 145, 146, 205. 
 
 Troeltsch, E., 142. 
 
 Truth, 1-43, 170, 171, 173, 179, 
 184, 185, 186, 191, 216, 224; 
 Aquinas on, 9, 10, 25, 31, 42 ; 
 Augustine on, 9, 10 ; Aveling 
 on, 11 ; Bergson and, 21 j 
 Bonatelli on, 152 ; Bradley on, 
 7, 8, 9, 11, 12, 21, 24; Dewey 
 on, 9, 12 ; Erdmann on, 10, 
 13 ; Hegel on, 10, 32, 38, 40, 
 
 42, 151 ; Hofifding on, 17, 18 ; 
 Husserl on, 7, 19 ; James on, 
 2, 9, 16 ; Joachim on, 9 ; Kant 
 on, 2, 10, 42; Kuno Fischer 
 on, 10 ; Lange on, 42 ; Lotze 
 on, 10, 19, 25, 27, 28, 29; 
 Morgan (Lloyd) on, 16, 18 ; 
 Miinsterberg on, 8; objectivity 
 of, 16, 18, 27, 36, 37, 40, 42, 
 
 43, 185 ; Plato on, 9, 29, 30, 
 41 ; Pragmatism and, 9, 21 ; 
 Rickert on, 5-7, 18, 37 ; Ros- 
 miui on, 14, 21 ; Royce on, 8, 
 15, 19; Russell on, 11, 12, 19; 
 Schelling on, 22 ; Schiller on, 
 18, 26, 29 ; Schopenhauer on, 
 9, 10, 32 ; Ulrici on, 6, 29, 75 ; 
 unity of, 38, 39, 42, 43; 
 Vaihinger on, 42 ; value and, 
 1-27, 38-43, 135 ; Volkelt on, 
 7 ; Windelband on, 3, 4. 
 
 Tufts, J. H., 73. 
 
 Ulrici, 6, 29, 75. 
 Unconditioned, the, 164. 
 
INDEX 
 
 281 
 
 Understanding, the, 164, 165, 
 177, 178 
 
 Universal, the, 12, 73, 79, 96, 
 121, 125, 139, 141, 179, 189, 
 201, 209, 230, 236, 237, 247. 
 
 Value, cognitive, 97, 100; ethical, 
 44-83, 198, 244, 250. 270, 272, 
 273; metaphysical, 124, 140, 
 154, 157, 158; nature of, 273; 
 truth and, 1-27, 38-43. 
 
 Variaco, 121, 152. 
 
 Volkelt, 7, 142. 
 
 Voluntarism, 108-137, 175, 244. 
 
 Weber, 237. 
 Whichcote, 218. 
 Whitehead, 103. 
 
 Wicksteed, 208. 
 
 Will, 67, 81, 109, 111, 113, 114, 
 118, 119, 120, 121, 122, 123, 
 124, 125, 127, 128, 129, 130, 
 132, 134, 135, 136, 186, 193, 
 194, 195, 196, 213, 218, 229, 
 230, 231, 232, 233, 234, 235. 
 238, 239, 240, 247, 259, 272, 
 274. 
 
 Windelband, 3, 4, 30. 
 
 Wolff, 144, 
 
 Wordsworth, 153, 159, 267. 
 
 World-Ground, 164, 169, 183, 
 186 231 
 
 Wundt, 47, 76, 111, 113, 123, 
 124, 125, 126, 127, 152. 
 
 Zeller, 172, 212, 233. 
 
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 MULLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS-