MASTER NEGATIVE NO 92-80805-6 MICROFILMED 1 992 COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY LIBRARIES/NEW YORK as part of the "Foundations of Western Civilization Preservation Project" Funded by the NATIONAL ENDOWMENT FOR THE HUMANITIES Reproductions may not be made without permission from Columbia University Library COPYRIGHT STATEMENT The copyright law of the United States - Title 17, United States Code ~ concerns the making of photocopies or other reproductions of copyrighted material... Columbia University Library reserves the right to refuse to accept a copy order if, in its judgement, fulfillment of the order would involve violation of the copyright law. AUTHOR: MCTAGGART, JOHN CTAGGART ELLIS TITLE STUDIES IN HEGELIAN COSMOLOGY PLACE: CA DATE: 1901 IDGE COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY LIBRARIES PRESERVATION DEPARTMENT Master Negative # BIBLIOGRAPHIC MICROiFORM TARGET Original Material as Filmed - Existing Bibliographic Record *% i^FM^*^^ McTaggart^ John McTaggart ELI is* I Studies in Hegelian cosmology. CaiTtb ridge [Eng.j 1901* * 0. 20 + 292 p. 1866-\^'^^ U*W^ ilHl ^l^^V ,u Restrictions on Use: • TECHNICAL MICROFORM DATA FILM SIZE:,^00m__ IMAGE PLACEMENT: lA QI^ IB IID DATE FILMED: JD_ll233L REDUCTION RATIO: Ik INITIALS HLMEDBY: RESEARCH PUBLICATIONS. INC WOODDRIDGE. CT .\ BIBLIOGRAPHIC IRREGULARITIES MAIN ENTRY : ^Ti/^su ^Sl^ Urt Ue<^ -::,-i^:- ■••1'' ■^«^.-;^/ Ik. m^K ^ ^:: .XV>^V-'>V' ;l;;^' :y>^ Myy •/-»".■-■'-'■'•■•'. -;,iii,x^?^- "V I) hV^ <-:..Wl=^^tv *L1 >> jr4 ;5f :*K^ ,. . . .... • ' •7',''. ..I i !t^^y..jifi/^. ..»_.t~»*-— — m'- RTR U^PIIfl <"l'" ■ ' \S3H3Q> FM22 ©oIwraMa mnttjevsttij Itt the ©its of ItewT lorU f. 1901 driven atiotttjmottstg '::i:j3 STUDIES HEGELIAN COSMOLOGY. I mt^Smmmmmmm EonUon: C. J. CLAY and SONS, CAMBEIDGE UNIVEBSITY PKESS WAKEHOUSE, AVE MABIA LANE. aiagfloto: 50. WELLINGTON STREET. f j i i • * in Eeipjifl: P. A. BROCKHAU8. 0t^ Sorfe: THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. Bombas: B. SEYMOUR HALE. [All Rights reserved,] STUDIES IN HEGELIAN COSMOLOGY BY JOHN McTAGGART ELLIS McTAGGART, M.A. FELLOW AND LECTURER OF TRINITY COLLEGE IN CAMBRIDGE, AUTHOR OF "STUDIES IN THE HEGELIAN DIALECTIC." i CAMBRIDGE: AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS. 1901 CambnBge: PBINTSD BY J. AND C. F. CLAY, AT THE UNIVEK81TY PRESS. ■O PREFACE. /CHAPTERS V. and VII. of this book appeared, nearly in ^^ their present form, in the International Journal of Ethics. (July 1896, and July 1897.) The other chapters have not been previously published. In referring to Hegel's works I have used the Collected Edition, the publication of which began in 1832. For purposes of quotation I have generally availed myself of Wallace's translation of the Encyclopaedia, of Dyde's translation of the Philosophy of Law, and of Spiers' and Sanderson's translation of the Philosophy of Religion. I am much indebted to Mr G. L. Dickinson, of King's College in Cambridge, and to my wife, for their kindness in reading this book before its publication, and assisting me with many valuable suggestions. CNI CD o » M-T. 322336 ^"•11. TABLE OF CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTION. 1. Definition of Cosmology 2. Hegel's attitude to Cosmology .... 3. The main principles illustrated in these Studies PAGE 1 2 3 CHAPTER II. HUMAN IMMORTALITY. «L« 4. The problem of this Chapter 4 5. Hegel's own attitude towards Immortality .... 5 6. Apparently best explained by his indifference ... 5 7. The answer must depend on the Absolute Idea ... 7 8. Two questions arise. Are we among the fundamental differen- tiations of the Absolute? Is each of these differentiations eternal ? 7 9. As to the first of these questions, — firstly, What is the nature of the fundamental differentiations of the Absolute ? . . 8 10. Let us start from Hegel's category of Life . . . .9 11. The unity in this category is in the individuals — but not in each separately 10 12. Nor in the aggregate of them 10 1.3. Nor in their mutual determination U 14. The unity must be for each of its differentiations. Thus we get the category of Cognition 13 16. This gives us the relation we require 14 &2 \ VUl TABLE OF CONTENTS 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 16. We caniiot imagine any example of the category of Cognition except the concrete state of cognition. Dangers of this . The validity of the transition to Cognition . Summary of the argument up to this [Xjint . Comparison with Lotze Transition to the Absolute Idea Nature of the Absolute Idea But, though the fundamental differentiations of the Absolute are now proved to resemble selves, it is iwssible they may not be selves, or may not include our selves We must now endeavour to prove that our selves have charac- teristics which they could not have unless they were funda- mental differentiations of the Absolute No line can l)e drawn to seiiarate the Self and the Not-Self The usual solution that the Self contains images of an external Not-Self is untenable On the other hand, the Self has no content which is not also Not-Self The nature of the Self is thus highly paradoxical . It need not therefore be false, but, if not, its paradoxes must be shown to be transcended contradictions In a system like HegeFs it cannot be taken as false And no demonstration that its jjaradoxes are transcended con- tradictions can I>e found, except on the hyixjthesis that the Self is a fundamental differentiation of the Absolute PAGE 15 15 17 17 18 19 19 0. 31. We now turn to the second question stated in Section 8. Are the fundamental differentiations of the Absolute eternal ? 32. Can the selves change? They are reproductions of the Absolute 33. Neither of the two elements of the Absolute can change 34. Even if the selves could change, they could not perish . 35. For the Absolute does not stmd to its manifestations in the same relation as finite things to their manifestations . 36. Change is only jKissible when reality is viewed under categories having something of the nature of Essence in them 37. To maintain that the Individuals could change while the Abso- lute remains the same imi)lies that we have not transcended the category of Matter and Form 38. Our selves, no doubt, are not given as changeless, or as in perfect harmony with the universe 39. But it is as difficult for Idealism to deny, as to affirm, the per- fection and changelessness of the Self 40. Selves can be viewed under the Absolute Idea 20 21 21 22 23 23 25 25 26 27 27 29 30 32 33 34 34 36 TABLE OF CONTENTS 41. Personal Identity lies in Identity of Substance 42. Further explanation of this 43. The theory that Personal Identity lies in Memory 44. The theory that Personal Identity lies in continuity of character 45. Mr Bradley's objection that the Self is not a sufficiently adequate representation of the Absolute to be Immortal 46. This objection considered 47. His objection that our desire for Immortality is no argument for Immortality 48. His objection that Immortality might not give us that for which we desire it 49. Lotze's opinion that we have no evidence of Immortality 60. But with Lotze the unity of the Absolute is more fundamental than its plurality 51. And it is this, in which he differs from Hegel, that is decisive for his view on Immortality 52. Lotze's objection to the pre-existence of the Self. Pre-existence is indeed a probable conclusion from Immortality . 63. But why should pre-existence be regarded as unsatisfactory? 64. Lives not connected by memory would be rather fragmentary. But all life in time is fragmenttiry 55. And the nature of each life would be a free development from that of the life before • • 66. Nor would the change be equivalent to the annihilation of one self and creation of another 67. And, in particular, the i>ersonal relations of each life would spring out of those of the life before 58. And may, in many cases, be held to l^e actually the same relations 69. Indeed, nothing is really lost l)y the loss of memory . 60. Although it is inevitable that it should api>ear to us that some- thing is lost . . 61. 62. 63. IX PAGE 36 37 39 40 40 41 43 43 45 45 47 47 48 49 50 50 62 53 54 54 \ CHAPTER in. THE PERSONALITY OF THE ABSOLUTE. Hegel's definition r.f God makes God's existence a truism. The important question is whether God is a person . Hegel's God is more conveniently referred to as the Absolute . Hegel regards the Absolute as a spiritual unity. And spirit as personal. But it does not follow that he thought the Absolute to be a Person. Nor do I l)elieve that he did think so . 56 58 \ 58^ "■^liiili* X 64. 65. 66. 67. 68. 69. 70. 71. 72. 73. 74. 75. 76. 78. 79. 80. 81. 82. Do. Ot). 86. 87. TABLE OF CONTENTS It 18 not necessary that the individuals should he for the unity . Indeed it is imi)ossible-in the sense in which the unity is for the individuals .' . " This view cannot properly be condemned as atomistic . B. It does not, however, necessarily follow from this that the Ateolute is not a Self Lotze's arguments for the pei->^*)Dality of the Absolute . In his contention that the Ego is independent of the Non-Ego we may agree in a certain sense • But not in the sense in which it would allow of an Infinite Person And the possil>ility that the Absolute should be a Person becomes trivial And it would be a Personality entirely unlike ours . . Lotze's asserted immediate certainty that the greatest must exist If this be taken as strictly immediate it is only of interest for Lotze's biography * ' ' If it be taken as a conclusion admitting of proof, it has no pro- bability unless the truth of Idealism has lieen demonstrated . Even in that case, we Ciinnot infer that what men have always desired is a fundamental demand of si)irit .... Nor have all men desirtd the existence of a personal God . And no attemi)t hiis been made to pr.)\e d priori that a personal Gssibility of IVrsonality mentioned in Section 71 can no longer be predicated of the Absolute PAGE 59 60 61 63 64 66 67 69 69 70 71 72 72 74 74 75 76 78 79 80 81 81 82 84 TABLE OF CONTENTS 88. The impossibility of this becomes more obvious when we reflect that the differentiations of the Absolute are them- selves Persons 89. The Al>solute could he called a Person if we extended the meiining of the term to cover all spiritual unities. But this would 1)0 wasteful and confusing .... 90. It is unmeaning to enquire whether the Absolute is higher or lower tlian a Person D. 91. Would the denial of Personality to the Absolute affect oiu- morality ? There is no logical justification for its doing so . 92. We have not sufficient evidence to detennine whether it would do so in fact • 93. But what evidence is available seems against the supposition. 94. We have even less light on the value of the efiect that such a denial would have uiwu our emotions 95. At any rate, the belief in a personal Absolute is nearly as far removed from tlie historical l)elief in God as is the belief in an impersonal Absolute 96. It is letter not to call an imiiersonal Absolute by the name of God CHAPTER TV. THE SUPREME GOOD AND THE MORAL CRITERION. A. 97. The nature of Supreme Reality. This is not, as such, the Supreme Good • • • * 98. In iK)int of fixct, however, the Supreme Reality, iiccording to Hegel, is also the Supreme Good 99. This Supreme Good is not [airely hedonistic . . 100. The Moral Criterion need not be identical with the Supreme Good 101. The necessity of a Moral Criterion . . . . • 102. We must judge our actions according to their relatively immediate consequences, as their ultimate consequences are unknown to us B. 103. The idea of Perfection will not serve as a Moral Criterion 104. The same continued XI PAGE \ 84 85 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 95 96 96 96 97 98 99 100 V / xu TABLE OF CONTENTS 105. The same continued * 106. Examples of the ambiguity of the idea of Perfection as a Moral Criterion • 107. The attempt to urn it as a Moral Criterion leads to sophistry 108. Again, the idea of Perfection is iweless when the question is quantitative. Examples of this 109. And an Ethical system is bound to provide the principles upon which such questions can lie answered . 110. Nor would the principle of "my station and its duties" be available as a Moral Criterion PAOK 101 102 104 1(»4 105 106 111. 112. 113. J. M. Tk* 115. 116. 117. llo. 119. 120. 121. 122. 123. 124. 125. 126. C. On the other hand the calculation of Pleasures and Pains does seem to give us an applicable criterion, whether it is a correct one or not We do know the difference between Pleasures and Pains . The objection that Pleasure is an abstraction The objection that Pleasures vanish in the act of enjoyment . The objection that Pleasures are intensive quantities, and so cannot be added together But we are continually adding tliem, in cases where no one would suppose that the results were completely unmcfining And such jidditions have some place in morality, on any system of Ethics And every system of Ethics, which requires a Criterion at all, has either Pleasure or Perfection, in some form, as that Criterion Now Perfection as a Criterion also requires the addition of intensive quantities Examples of this Thus Ethics of every mrt seem to stand or fall with the possibility of the addition <»f intensive (quantities . And there seems, on consideration, mt reason why they shoidd not lie added This is not affected by the inii>ossil)ility of very precise measurements B. How far, then, is Ple«isure a corrert Criterion? The Good may be analyzed into Development and Hannony . Of Harmony the liedonic Criterion is a trustworthy test, but this is not always the case with I)evel(»pment . Although, in the long run, the greatest l)eveloi)ment and the greatest Ha[)piness are inseimrable .... 108 108 109 109 110 111 112 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 TABLE OF CONTENTS 127. Examples of this V ' 128. When Harmony and Development lead in different direc- tions, the conflict is not between Pleasure and Perfection, but between two elements of Perfection .... 129. The solution of the difficulty adopted by Common Sense . 130. But neither this nor any other is satisfactory . . 131. Summary of results. There are some cases in which we have no Criterion to trust 132. This does not introduce so much practical uncertainty as might be supposed 133. Some uncertainty, no doubt, it produces. But it does not deny that there is an objective Right, though we cannot know it 134. And everyone must admit that we do not always know the Right. The difference is not great 135. Nor is the attainment of the Good ultimately dei>endent on oiu* action 136. No doubt such a view brings out the fact that Virtue is not an ultimate conception. But this is an advantage . Xlll PAOB 121 122 123 123 123 125 126 126 127 127 CHAPTER V. PUNISHMENT. » 137. Detinition of Punishment 138. Theories justifying Punishment 139 The vindictive theory has fallen out of favour . . • 140. What is Hegel's theory ? It has been supposed to be the vindictive theory, but this is incorrect .... 141. Hegel's theory is that Punishment, as such, may cause Rei)entance „ ' j ' j- * 142. The objection that all Punishment is essentially degrading 143 But can Pmiishment, as such, produce Rei)entance? . . 144^ It can do so, if inflicted by an authority which the culprit recognizes as embodying the moral law . . . • 145 But is such a recognition compatible with a violation of the law >. Yes. (a) The recognition may not have sufhcient strent'th to enable us to resist temptation 146. (6) Or°we may fail to see that the law applies to a par- ticular case .*,,*, /j 1 147. {€) Or we may not know that the authority had forbidden the act in question 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 138 w IIV 148. 149. 150. 153. \/ TABLE OF CONTENTS But would Punishment be just in these last two cases? There is no re^won that it should not be just . (d) Or our recognition of the authority, previous to the Punishment, may have been too vague to determine our action • Thus Punishment pnxluces Rei»eiitance l>y emphasising the element of Disgrace Disgrace must he distinguished from Degradation It is not advisiible to trust exclusively to the Disgrace in- volved in the fault It is rarely that the Punislimeiits of a modern State can produce Rei)entance. The main object of such Punish- ment should be deterrent And most offences against such a State are either (a) com- mitted deliberately from a sense of duty .... Or (6) committed by i>ersons in whom the sense of right is, in the matter in question, hopelessly dormant . And, in the remaining cases, the mcxiern citizen does not conceive the State as the emlK>di merit of the moral law. Hegel's mistake lay in .s\ip[)osiiig tliat Punishment could have the effect lie treats of, when inflicted by the Criminal I Law of a moor-dinate triad of Sin. It may be presumed analo- gous to the triad of Sin, Punishment, and Rei^entance rn the Philosnphy of Laic 170. But Retribution and Amendment will be here more appro- priate tei-ms 171. Why Retribution must follow orr Sin 172. And Amendment on Retribution 173. The analogy of Retribirtion to Pxrnishment . . 174. The transition to Virtue from Irmocence and Srn 175 The transition to Virtue from Amendment . . • • 176. The process from Innocence to Virtue may l>e rei)eatecl more than once in ejiili man 177. Virtue can be increased otherwise than by Sin arrd Anrend- ment *. t.\ v 4.- 178. But Irmocence necessarily le^id.s, through Sm, Retnbution, ;uul Amendment, to Virtue . • • • • 179 Yet, in fact, some memln^rs of this process are often seen, i,r individual cases, without l)eing followed by the later ones ' *, * 180. Hegel mav have regarded the process as only a tendency in the individual, th.)ugh an actual tact m the race ^ 181. Or he may have regarded the pi'ocess as completeii for e^xch individual in a subsequent life 182. Sirmmarv. . . • • • * ^ . • • 183 Comparisi.n witli two other theories of Sm • ; ' * 184*. Moral evil and moral gocxl are not so fundamentally opposed for Hegel as for many philosopliers . . . • • 186. But his theory affords lio logical justification for immoral action . i * x- * 186. Nor is it likely, as a matter of f.u.t, to le^id to such Miction . 187. The theory certainly does not lend itself to the deifacition of Virtue ' * ' * ' 188. An application to the principles of Educ^ition . XV PAGE 159 160 160 161 162 164 165 165 166 167 168 168 169 169 170 171 172 173 174 174 CHAPTER VII. THE CONCEPTION OF SOCIETY AS AN ORGANISM. 189. Statement of Hegel's position 190. The same continued 191. Professor Mackenzie's position • 192 The intrinsic relations of parts to the whole, as proved by Professor Mackenzie, only implies mutual determination . 177 178 179 180 \ { \ \ \\ f i \ / XVI 194. 195. 196. 197. 198. 199. 200. 201. 202. 203. 204. 205. TABLE OF CONTENTS And need involve no higher category than Absolute Mecha- nism ........... Although the end of Society is human well-being, it does not follow that it lies within Society .... Illustrations of this A definition of Organic Unity proposed .... Is Society the end of man? The ideal Society of heaven is, but not our present Society on etirth .... Nor ought our present Society to be our end For, in progressing through it, our relation to it is often negative Arguments in supjwrt of this statement .... The same continued Statement of results reached Earthly Society does not always improve or deteriorate in proportion as its unity increases or diminishes Philosophy can afibrd us no guidance in acting on Society Nor is it to be expected that it should do so . . . CHAPTER VIII. HEGELIANISM AND CHRISTIANITY. 206. Introductory 207. The definition of Christianity . . . . 208. Division of the subject 209. Statement of Hegel's views on the Trinity and Personality of G(xi. The Primary and Secondary Triads . 210. He identifies the distinctions of the Secondary Triad with those of the Trinity ........ 211. But the Secondary Triad forms part of a dialectic process 212. And therefore the Synthesis expresses its whole reality 213. This would not lead to the ordinary doctrine of tlie Trinity . 214. The Personality of God. Hegel's statement of the Primary Triad 215. This is again a dialectic process 216. And, therefore, if God is reiiUy Personal, it must Ije in the Kingdom of the Spirit 217. God in the Kingdom of the Spirit is a Community . 218. And so can scarcely be a Person — especially as it is Ijound together by Love PAGE 182 183 184 185 187 188 189 190 192 192 193 195 196 197 198 198 199 201 202 204 204 205 207 208 209 210 I I: 219. 220. 221. 222. 223. 224. 225. 226. 227. 228. 229. 231. 232. 233. 234. 235. 236. 237. 238. 239. 240. 241. 242. 243. 244. TABLE OF CONTENTS XVll PAGE Hegel's use of the word Love 211 Its relation to Friendship 212 And to Particularity 212 Hegel's views on the Personality of God have been obscured by his use of the word God 213 And by mistakes as to the nature of the Pantheism which he rejects 213 And by supposing that Spirit cannot be Personal unless God is a Person 214 B. Hegel's doctrine of Incarnation Its similarities to the Christian doctrine .... But, for Hegel, God is incarnate in everything finite. And all the reality of everything finite is only its Inciimation of God As to the Christian doctrine of the Incarnation three ques- tions arise, of which the first has been considered above Hegel's demonstration for the necessity of the Incarnation being typified in a particular man Why the typificatioii in several men would l>e unsatisfactory . For Hegel this typification is a necessity to be regretted . Why Jesus should be taken as the type— not because of his personal perfection Nor of the excellence of his moral teaching But because he bears witness to the metaphysical truth of the Unity of God and Man But the Unity is asserted merely immediately . And the Unity asserted is itself immediate, and therefore only one side of the truth Why the type must l)e found in a teacher whose assertion of the Unity was immediate And why it nmst be found in a teacher who asserted an immediate Unity In what sense the jjosition of Jesus was determined by the choice of the Church Hegel's view of Jesus is, at all events, not the usual Chris- tian view 0. Hegel's statement of the doctrine of Original Sin The consequences of this doctrine, as held by Hegel . This doctrine may be true, and may be Christian, but it is by no means specially Christian 215 216 217 218 218 219 220 221 222 222 223 224 225 226 226 228 229 230 232 233 \\ XVlll 245. 246. 247. 248. 249. 250. 251. 252. 253. 255. 256. TABLE OF CONTENTS And he regards Sin a.s, ut any rate, HUi.erior to Innocence . As in seen in his treatment of the Fall . . • • Hegel's statement of the doctrine of Grace . . • • This doctrine, again, is not specially Christian . • • Hegel would seem to attribute the doctrine of dace to Jesus, and that of Original Sin to his successors . . As to morality^its commands mid prohibitions are much the same for Hegel as for Christianity . • ' ' But he differs from Christianity lu the comparatively slight imporUnce he gives, {(t) to Sin. . . • • • (6) to Conscience ^ • • (c) to Immortality .... . . . • (d) to Purity of Motive. * * (e) And, indeed, to in..rality as a whole . • • • (/) M<.reover, the ideas of luimiUty and contrition for sm have for Hegel oidy a relative validity . • • • D. 257. Smumary of results .... * *. ' * 258. Why did Hegel attempt to connect with Christianity a system s.» unlike the ordinary doctrines of Christians i . m. It cannot have l>een from cowardice, or from a regard for the interests of the non-philosophical public . . • 260. Nor can it lie attributed to a sympatliy for tlie life and character of Jesus . . • • • '„*,.* 261 The explanation is to be found in his dehnition of Religion as something which cannot give absolute truth . . 262 His meaning will l.e that no Religion can ever give a closer ai,pr.Kich to absolute truth than is given by Christianity 263 And, if Hegel's philosophy is true, it nmst be admitted that no ReUgion has approximated to the truth as closely as Christianity 264. Historical contirmation of tliis view CHAPTER IX. THE FURTHER DETERMINATION OF THE ABSOLUTE. 265. An Idealist philosophy lias three stages 266. The practical imi)ortance of the third stage 267. The subject of the present chapter .... 268. The nature of i)erfected Knowledge .... PAOB 234 234 236 237 238 239 239 240 241 242 242 243 245 245 245 246 247 248 249 250 I /. k';, 1 252 253 254 255 269. 270. 271. 272. 273. 274. 275. 276. 277. 278. 279. 280. 281. 282. 283. 284. 285. 286. 287. 288. 289. 290. 291. 292. TABLE OF CONTENTS In which the question "Why is the Universe as a whole what it IS ?" is the only one which remains, and is illegitimate . The nature of perfected Volition The significance of a life which enjoyed this i')erfection would l>e suinnied up in Love And in nothinj' el«e The api)aiently unreas(.ning nature of Love. B. Love is not only the highest reiUity in the universe, but the sole reality . * • . . • , For (a) the duality between Knowledge and \'olition cannot be maintained in the Absolute The distinction l>etweeii Knowledge and Abolition is not in their relation to action Nor in the activity or passivity of the mind But IS that, in a case of imperfect harmony, we condemn, in Knowledge our ideas, in Volition the facts . The same continued ..... This distinction could find no place in i>erfection An objection considered. . . * • • « « The perfected state of Sjiirit could not be mere Feeling. There only remains Emotion . * . • • The only form of Emotion which could fill this place would ^ Love And Lo\e does transcend the opjx)sition between Knowled^'e and Volition .... A second line of argument leads to the same conclusion : for (6) both Knowledge and Volition postulate an ideal which they can never re^ich, as long as they remain Know- ledge and Volition The element of the Xot-Self is essential to Knowledge and Volition. But it is incompatible with their perfection In Knowledge this element shows itself in apparent oppo- sition to the Self * * * • • And this is the reason that we cannot get rid of the illegiti- mate question "Why is the Universe as a whole what it is?" The possibility of knowing that Knowledge is inadequate Again, Volition reciuires that all Exi>erience sliall Ije a Means to the End of the pei-son who wills The element of the Not-Self prevents this And this gives an ai)pearance of contingency to all satis- faction of Volition .... ,/ XIX PAOB 257 258 260 261 262 262 263 263 264 265 266 267 268 269 270 270 271 272 273 273 274 274 276 276 XX TABLE OF CONTENTS 293. In a perfected state of Spirit, we must be able to regard the Not-Self as we regard the Self ..•••• 294 The Not-Self of each of us is some other Selves 295'. In Love we regard the person loved in the same way as we regard ourselves . . • 296. Reasons for believing this 297. The same continued . • • ' ' \ . '„a 298. And thus Love supplies the defects of Knowledge and Volition 1* • ' ft.« 299. A third line of argument leads to the same ^<>»-^7^^ ' J^^ (c) each Individual must have an unique nature of its own. 300. Explanation of this . • ' ' ' ,t' v*- 301. This nature cannot be found in Knowledge or Volition . 302. But may l>e found in Love . . - ... - • • 303. Thus three lines of argument lead to the same conclusion . C. 304 The objec-tion that Love is not at present self-subsistent . 305! Love, if iHjrfect, would be inconsistent with sense-presentation 306. And with time / ' 307. The objection that Love does not always at present vary directly with development . . . • 308. This Love ciinuot be Love of God 309. And still less of mankind .... 310. Its nature 311. Its extent 312. The mystical character of our conclusion . PAGE 277 278 278 278 279 280 281 282 284 286 285 285 286 287 288 289 290 290 291 292 I i I I'v ;.v \ m CHAPTEE I. INTRODUCTION. 1. By Cosmology I mean the application, to subject-matter empirically known, of a priori conclusions derived from the investigation of the nature of pure thought. This superficial element clearly distinguishes Cosmology from the pure thought of Hegel's Logic. On the other hand, it is clearly to be distinguished from the empirical conclusions of science and every-day life. These also, it is true, involve an d priori element, since no knowledge is possible without the categories, but they do not depend on an explicit affirmation of a priori truths. It is possible for men to agree on a law of chemistry, or on the guilt of a prisoner, regardless of their metaphysical disagreements. And a man may come to correct conclusions on these subjects without any metaphysical knowledge at all. In Cosmology, however, the conclusions reached are deduced from propositions relating to pure thought. Without these propositions there can be no Cosmology, and a disagreement about pure thought must result in disagreements about Cosmology. Of this nature ^re the subjects treated of in this book. The conception of the human self is a conception with empirical elements, and there is therefore an empirical element in the question whether such selves are eternal, and whether the Absolute is a similar self So too tlie conceptions of Morality, of Punishment, of Sin, of the State, of Love, have all empirical elements in them. Yet none of the questions we shall discuss can be dealt with by the finite sciences. They cannot be settled by direct observation, nor can they be determined by M«T. 1 \ \ ^ i 2 INTKODUCTIOS induction In some cases the scope of the question is so ?iTat L induction based on instancy ^^^^ of our observation would not gxve even the «^ J*""^^^^^ presumption in favour of any solution^ In "^^er J- f « question relates to a state of things so ditterent to our present experience that no relevant instances can be found. The only possible treatment of such subjects is metaphysical. ^ 2 Hegel gives a very small part of his writings to Cosmo logiL que!tio?s-a curious fa.t when we consider their^reat theoretiLl interest.and still greater practical ^rnporUn^e^J^^en he passes out of the realm of pure thought, he generally confin^ •^ .. , • • V.., tko ni<1 nf t,he dialectic, the reasons himself to explaming, by the aul ol tne aiaie , for the existence of ptrticular facts, which, on empirical grounds, are known to exist, or, in some cases, wrongly -PP;-^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ The Philosophy of Nature, the greater part of the Philosophy of Spirit, and nearly the whole of the Philosophy of Law, of the Philosophy of History, and of the Aesthetic. *- Uk- J by this. The same thing may be said^ of f « ^e^nd^ f ^^^^ of the Philosophy of Iteligion, the First and Third Parts o which contain almost the only detailed discussion of cosmological problems to be found in his works. . ■ w^ T This peculiarity of Hegel's is cunous, but undeniab e. I do not know of any possible explanation, unless m so far a^ one may be found in his want of pergonal interest in the part of philosophv which most people find more interesting han any other. When I speak in this book of Hegelian Cosmology I do not propose to consider mainly the views actually expressed by Hegel except in Chapter VIII. and, to some extent in Chapter V. Elsewhere it will be my object to consider what views on the subjects under discussion ought logically to be held by a thinker who accepts Hegel's Logic, and, in particular, Hegel's theory of the Absolute Idea. I presume, in short, to endeavour to supplement, rather than to expound. It is for this reason that I have devoted so much space to discussing the views of Lotze, of Mr Bradley, and of Professor Mackenzie. Since we have so little assistance on this subject from Hegel himself, it seemed desirable to consider the couree taken by philosophers who held the same conception of the {. .V INTRODUCTION 3 Absolute as was held by Hegel, or who supported their opinions by arguments which would be equally relevant to Hegel's con- ception of the Absolute. 3. The subject-matter of those problems which can only be treated by Cosmology is varied, and the following chapters are, in consequence, rather disconnected from each other. But they illustrate, I think, three main principles. The fii-st of these is that the element of differentiation and multiplicity occupies a much stronger place in Hegel's system than is generally believed. It is on this principle that I have en- deavoured to show that all finite selves are eternal, and that the Absolute is not a self These two conclusions seem to me to be very closely connected. As a matter of history, no doubt, the doctrines of human immortality and of a personal God have been rather associated than opposed. But this is due, I think, to the fact that attempts have rarely been made to demonstrate both of them metaphysically in the same system. I believe that it would be difficult to find a proof of our own immortality which did not place God in the position of a community, rather than a person, and equally difficult to find a conception of a personal God which did not render our existence dependent on his w^ill — a will whose decisions our reason could not foresee. My second main principle is that Hegel greatly over- estimated the extent to which it was possible to explain particular finite events by the aid of the Logic. For this view I have given some reasons in Chapter VII of my Studies in the Hegelian Dialectic. Applications of it will be found in Chapters IV and VII of the present work, and, in a lesser degree, in Chapters V and VI. Thirdly, in Chapter IX, I have endeavoured to demonstrate the extent to which the Logic involves a mystical view of reality — an implication of which Hegel himself was not, I think, fully conscious, but which he realised much more fully than most of his commentators. I \j 1—2 »../' 2 !NTR<.,>DUCIlO.\ induct i"n. In soriif' 'm- - tin' sropr- < if Th«' (juestioii is ho Yast, tliat an iiiduciKJij bitM'ti mij iii>iaii<'.> witliiii th«* >i)lM'n' of (mr observation wouM in»t ^h*- tven the slightest ratKjnal |.i'-,iniption in favuiir of any solution. In other cas.s the (juestion rclatr- to a state <»t thing's so ditieinit to our present exp< 'rieiH-f that ii<' nl.vaiit iii^t;iiic.'< ran l»e found. The only pissilile treatment ot siieli siibieel.> i> ni« 'laith^^i'-al. 2. H« ■_!(,. 1 gives a very small part of his writings to Cosmo- logical ( 1 1 1 es t i oi I s — a c 1 1 ri ou s lae t w f i « • 1 1 wo r o 1 1 s i d o r t h e i r great theoretical interest, ami still greater practical importance. Wlieu he passes out of the realm «)f {turo thought, h<* gon. rally confines himself t«> e.\{»laining, 1 >y tho aid ot th<' dialectic, the leasons for the ixistoiicr of particidar facts, which, on enipirical grounistan<'.- on this subject from Hegel himsell, it seemed desirable t.» consider tlie cour.se taken by philosophers who held the same conception of the INTIIODIXTIOX 3 Absolute as was held by Hegel, or who supported their opinions by arguments which w« .uld l)e Cipially relevant to Hegel's con- ception of the Absolute. 3. The subject-matter .-f those problems which can only be treated by CosnK »logy is varies. The fii-st of these is that the elemt'Ot of dit^Vrentiation and multiplicity occuj.ies a much stn.ng.r plac- in Ilegers system than is generally beli.ved. It is on this |)rinciple that I have en- deavoured to sin.w that all tinitc selves are etenial. and that the Absolut. IS not a self The--, two conclusi<.ns .seem to me to b.' v. ry closely connected. As a matt.-r of history, no doubt, the d.M'trines of human inuuortality and of a pei-sonal (i»Kl hav« • been rather associated than .>])|)osed. But this is du.-, I think, to the fact that attempts liave rarely be.-n made to dennmstrate both ol thorn micallv in the ^ame svstem. 1 believe that it Would lie ditticult to find a proof of our own inunortality which did not jjlace (hMl in the jiosition of a c..mmunity, rather than a p.rson. and ecpially ditficult to hnd a conception of a j)ers..nal ( Jod which did not render our existence ons in Cha[fter VII of my Studies in the Hegelian Dialectic. Applications of it will be found in Chapters IV and VII of the jiresent work, and, in a lesK< -r degree, in Chapt( -rs \' anr siiniethin$( to which all my exjM'rienre is rr^hfr^i^. an^l so i.l;,t*'(l, that, in lli.- midst nf the iiiiilU|ilirity ui rAfxrirnri', it is a unity, and that, in the milin^r th(»s.' which I perceive myself U* |)rodiier. ar** produced hv other sjiirits of a similar nature. It is ciitain that this l.t^i judgment is som. iimrs wnjijg in particular rs. I may jud^'e during a dream that J am in ivlation with somt' pereon who does not, in fact, txist at all. And, for a few minutr>, an ingenious aiit(»m.it-.n may occasionally hr mistaken for th.- hodv «.f a living ptTsoM. But philosophy, witli the cxcepLiun of .Solipsism, agrees witli common .sense that I am correct in the general judgment that there do exist ..>tht -i- finite |}ersonal spirits as well as mine. These spirits arc called selves. And the problem which we have now to cnsidcr is whether there is a point in time for eacli self aftt r which it would lie correct t.. >ay that the s( -If had (va-rd to exist. If not, it must he coiisidnvd as immortal, » ThrouKhout this chapter, I sliall vmpUn tin- u.,r.l tinite. when um-.I without qualitiration. to .l.-not. anythinK v%hich has aii> nulitv (mt.siiif it, \vh.'ther ita dekOTiiiimtior. is iiierelj .At.iual, or due to it^ own natuiv. Hr-,-1 himwjlf 8I>eakH <,f tlu. ^vUdrU-nnmvd hs intii.ilr. IJ.it this is incoiiVfiiieiit i^ii practice, though It IS basiHl on an iinportant truth. For it leavi-s without a muuv the ditfcrt-ne.' b.-twren the whole uiid a part the name ..f mtinily to a quality wiiieh lui> already an ai.prupriate nana M-lf-determiuation. whether as existing throughout endless time, or as having rtalitv is to be ascribed to tlie selt. To suppo.se these statenn/nts to he insine.-if is imp<»ssil)h •. There is nothinij in Hegel's life ->ion ot' such casual ant uf l:,ln,u,f,, I 7'.». ii. •20'*, M.i, 4H5 (trauK. i. 71), iii. 57, 105, :i()H). It 11 HIMAX IMMORTALITY I 1 illcigically— he seems never to have eoiisidered the individual pei-sons m of much importance. All that was necessary was. that the spirit should be there in s^mw personal form or another. It follows, of course, from this, that he never attached much imiKirtance to the « luestion of whether spirit was eternally manifested in the same persons, or in a succession of different pers<"»iis. No one, I imagine, can read Hegel's works, especially those which contain the applications of the dialectic, without being struck by this ehanicteristie. At times it goes so far as almost to justify the criticism that reality is only considered valuable by Hegel hecjinse it lornis a schema for the disjihiy of the pure Idea. I have tried to sliow elsewhere' that this view is not essential to He^^'elV system, and, indeed, that it. is absolutely inconsistent with it. But this only shows more clearly that Hegel's mind was naturally veiy strongly inclined towanls such views, since even his own fundamental principles could not prevent him from continually recurring to them. Since Hegel fails to em|)hasise the individuality «)f the individual, his omission to emphasise the immortality of the individual is accounted for. But it remsiius a defect in his m-ork. For this is a question whieli n«» jihilosophy can be justifieil in treating as insignificant, A jihilosopher may answer it affirmatively, or negatively, or may deny his p«»wer of answer- iBg it at all. But. howev.r he may deal with it, he is clearly wroni( if he treats it as uuimiiortant. For it does not only make all the dif]l:^n;nce iiir the future, but it makes a profound difl[i?rence fVn- the present. Am I eternal, or am I a mere temporary manifestation of something ♦ tcnial which is not myself^ The unswer to this question may not grciatly influence my duties in every-day life. Immortal or not, it is equally my duty to pay ni}' liills, and not to cheat at cards, nor to betray my country. But we can scarcely exagi,'enite the difiference which will b*; made in our estimate of our place in the universe, and, conse<|uently, in our ideals, our a.spi rations, our hoj>es, the whole of the emotional colouring of our lives. And this is most of all the case on Hegelian principles, which declare that * Studiti in the Mtgelian Itialfctic, HUMAN IMMORTALITY T existence in time is in«idequate, and relatively unreal. If we are immortal, we may be the supreme end of all reality. If time made us, and will break us, our highest function must be to be the means of some end other than ourselves. 7. To determine the true relation of Hegel's philosophy to the doctrine of immortality, we must go into the matter at greater length than he has thought it worth while to do himself. We must take Hegel's account of the true nature of reality, and must ask whether this requires or excludes the eternal existence of selves such as our own. Now Hegel's account of the true nature of reality is that it is Absolute Spirit. And when we ask what is the nature of Absolute Spirit, we are told that its content is the Absolute Idea. The solution of our problem, then, will l>e found in the Absolute Lli'a. 8. We art; certain, at anv rate, that the dcK^trine of the Absolute Mea teaches us that all reality is spirit. No one, I believe, has ever (luubttd that this is Hegel's meaning. And it is also beyeets from the ordinary form in which a belief in immortality is held. The ordinary belief confines immortality to mankind— so far as the inhabitants I 8 HUMAN IMMORTALITY of this planet are concerned. The lower animals are not snppoeecl. by most pople, to survive the death of their present bodies. And e¥en those who extend immortality to all animals commonly hold that nmch of reality in not spiritual at all, but material, and that consequently neither mortality nor immortality can be; predicated of it with any meaning. But if we can deduce immortality from the nature of the Absolute Idea, it will apply to all spirit— that is to say to all reality — and we shall be led to the conclusion that the universe consists entirely of conscious and immortal spirits. The second pcjcidiarity of the couelusiou will be that the immortality to which it refers will rn»t be an enloyed is a matter of empirical ex|:M*rience. We can tell by pure thought what must be the natJire of the funf those* differentiationa Now our knowledge of what we ourselves are is not a matter of pure thought — it cannot be deduced by the dialectic method from the single preniist! of Pure Being. We know what we ourselves are, because we observe ourselves to bt- >«„). And this is empirical. Accordingly our treatment of tht* first c|uestion will fall into two fMirte. We must hrst deteru:iine what is the nature of the differentiations of spirit. This is a problem for the I \ HUMAN IMMORTALITY 3f dialectic, and must be worked out by pure thought- And then we must apply the results of pure thought, thus gained, by enquiring how far our selves can or must be included in the number of those differentiations. 10. Hegel's own definiti(m of the Absolute Idea is, "der Begriff dtT Idee, deni die Mr*- als solrhe dtr (ii^ginstand, dem das Oljjekt sie ist\" This by itself will not give us very much help in our present enquiry. But, as Hegel himself tells us, to know the full meaning of any category, we must not be content with its definition, l)Ut must observe how it grows out of those which precede it. We must therefore follow the course of the dialectic to see how the Absolute Idea k determined. It would he too lengthy t«) start with the categ« *r\ of Purr Being, and go through the whole chain of categories, and it will then'fore be necessary to take some point at which to make a begiiming. This jMjint, I think, may conveniently be found in the category of Life. There seems to be very little doubt or ambiguity about Hegel's conception of this category as a whole, although the subdivisions which ho introduces into it are among the most confused piirts of the whole dialectic. And it is at this j>oint that the differt;ntiations of the unity begin to assume those special characteristics by which, if at all, they will be proved to be conscious beings. For both these reasons, it seems well to begin at the category Acconling to that categoiy reality is a unity differentiated into a plurality (or a plurality combined into a unity) in such a way that the whole meaning and significance of the unity lies in its being differentiated into that jiarticular plurality, and that the whole meaning and significance of the parts of the plurality lies in their being combined into that particular unity. We have now to consider the transition from the category of Life to that of Cognition. We may briefly anticipite the argument by saying that the unity required by the category of Life will prove fatal to the plurality, which is no less es-sential to the categor}', unless that plurality is of a fieculiar nature ; * EHcydopaediiir Section 236. HUMAN IMMORTALITY 10 HITMAN IMMORTALITY anil that it is this peeuliarity which takes us into the category of Coifiiition'. 11. The unity which connects the individuals is not an}*thin|( outsi>( the unite,! individuals, an.l not inerelv iu -he .sum ,.f them. For thase separate characteristics ;hich differentiatv the individuals can have no e.ustence at all. unless the unity is mauiJested in them. 13 It might l.e suggesfd that we could overcome this 'i<->»> I" "" " • 1 K f and the sam.' diffi.ulti.s which compel us to regar.l that categorv as ii.ad...,,ia„. will recur here Are we to regard the individuals as possessing any element of indivi.luality which « not identical with their unity in the system f lo answer this ouestion in the attirmalive is impossible. Such an inner reality (hffereiit from the external relations ot the in.livi.lual, . "i a- , .1 !.>■ fheiii would take us biick to the Doctrine thoiii;h afllecteil b\ tlieiii. wouiu uiri of Fssenee And therefore it wo.il.l \»- -(""e incompatible with our present c.a,eg,„y. which demands, not only that the individuals shall not be independent of their unity, but that thcN shall have no meaning at all but their unity. And therefore there cannot be any distinct element ot individuality . , ., , ,,,;. ,i„„ ,,„. mean that the individuality ii 1 It will be «een Ut. . that tlii» do«« ii"t mean '" .nbordinaUKl to the unit.v. but that both moment, are complete y un.Ud m the gaooraiuau-u . .. „.i.i„l. tl.i.v are both abstractions, concrete conception of reaUt.v. from «hich they are ooin a» I If h,um:ak immortality HUMAN IMMORTALITY n On the other hand, if we answer the ciuostirm in the ue^'ative, our difficulties will be m grmi. The individuals are now asj^erted not to posse&s any eliiiients of individuality, which are not identical with their unity in the system. But this, while it is no doubt the true view, is incompatible with the conception that the unity in «iuestion is simply the unity of the mutual determination of the individuals. As we saw when Absolute Mechanism traiisiVirmed itself into Chemism, "the whole nature of each Object lies in the n*lation between it and the other Objects. But each of these relations dots not biilong exclusively, ex hi/pothetfi, to the Object, but unites it with the others. The naturr nf wax consists, for exaniple, pirtly in the fact that it i> melted l>y tire. But this melting is just m much piirt of the nature of the tire. The fact i.s shareil between the wax and the tire, and cannot be said to b\'stenj which these two Objects form. The i|ualities will lielong to the syst«iii, and it will be the true" individual. "But again, two Objects eunnot form 11^ chwed system, since all Objects in the univ.Ts.' are in mutual connexion. Our system of two Objects will have relations with others, and will be merged with them, in the same way that the original Objects were niergee seen, from the intensity of the unity in that category. Anv individuality not identical with the unity is incompatible with it. And in liuitual determination the individuality is not identical with the unity. Each individual ha.s .pialities which aiv not part of its relations to others, and which are thereftire ni)t the unity between them. (From one iM)int of view it may be said that this ceases to be true when mutual determinati-.n becmes perf»-ct. But then it ceases to be mutual determination, and we return once more to the difttculties, <|Uote(l above, of Chemism.) 14 We aie forced back to the conclusion that it is necessary that in some way or another the whole .»f the unity shall be' in each individual, and that in no other way can the individuals have the r.-iuisiti- reality. Vtt. as we saw above, to suj»pose that the unity exists in the individuals as wolated, is to destroy the unity. The unity nnist be completely in each individual. Yet it nmst also be the boiul which unites them. Mow is this to l>e? How is it pr.sMble that the whole can be in each of its parts, and yet be the whole of which they are parts ? The solutitin can only be found by ih.- intrmluction ol a new and higher idea. The conception which, acconling to Hegel, will overcome the ditficidties of the category of Life, is that of a unity which is not only in the individuals, but also /or the individuals. (I am here using "in" and "for" rather in their cust.>marv English meanings than as the equivalents of Hegel's technical' tern.s "an" and "fur.") There is only one example of such a category known to us in experience, and that is a system of conscious individuals. Accordinglv Hegel cmHs his next category, to which the tmnsition from Lite tak.-s us, Cognition ( Krkennen). This does not seem a very tortunat.- nam.-. For the category is subdivided int.» ( 'ognition Pn»per and N'olition. and Cognitu.n is scansely a wor.l of suthcieiit generality to cover Volition fis a sub-siMcies. If the category was to lie named troni its concrete example at all, iierhaps Cunsci. lusne.ss might have been more suitable. I 14 HUMAN IMMOKTAIJTY IS. If we tiike al! reality, f< >r the sake of con,veiiience, as liinited to tliree iiuliviiiuals, i. B, and C, and suppose thein to be coiisciouH, then the whoh> will be reprwliiced in each of them. A, for example, will, as conscious, b<' avvjiri* of himself, of B, and of f , and of thf iinily which joins them in a system. And thus the unity is within each individunl. At thf same time the iiBity is not in the individuals as ifiolateii. For the whole pint of saying that the unity is fw A, is that it exists both out of him ami in him. To recur to our exfimple, the essi -nee of consciousness is that the contents of conseiouMiess purport t*.. \h- a repivx-ntation of something els© than itself (In tin- c-t^t- of error,, indeed, the c< mtents ui' con- sciousness hii\'<' 11" <'xt,ernal e.»iinter|mrt. But then it is only in so far na consciousness is nt>t ermueous that it is an example of this category.) Thus til.' unity is at once the whole of which the individuals are parts, aiid aU*, eotopletely jiresent in ••aeh individual. Of cour>r it, is not in the in,dividuals in the si,inie m,amier as the individuals are in it. ,But this is not to be expected. The d,i,alectic cannot prt>ve that contraries are not incompatible, and, if it did, it would destroy all thought, lis work is to remove contnidictio,n8,, and it succeeds in this wlien it meets thr demand that tlu; unity shall be in the individuals, and the individuals in the unity, h\ >h"wing that both are true, though i,n di fife rent ways. The unity is n.»w, as it is required by the category to be. the wh«>l(» nature ot' . aeh individual. In so tar sis we regard the individuid as merely cognitive, and in so far as his cognition is |)erfeet (and Ijoth these conditions would be realised when we were jmlging him under the categoij of Cognition), his whole niiture would consi,st in the conscirtus reprt»duction, <„»f the system of which he is a part. This does not involve the jidoption of the view that the ndnd is a tabttla nisti, and that it only receives 'paiffli,vely impressions fr*„ini ou,tside.. However the cognition may be prcMlnced, and hiAvever active the part which the niind itself may take in its iirmiuclnui, the fact remains thati the cognition, when produced, and in so fjir as i*erfect, is nothing but a representation of reality outside the knowing self HUMAN IMMORTALITY 15 16. We must, of course, remember with Cognition, as with Mechanism. ( hemisni, and Life, that the dialectic does not profess to dedtice all the empirical characteristics of the concrete state whose name is given to the category, but merely to deduce that purc idea which is most characteristic of that particular state. But the ciise of Cognition has a special feature. We can recall and imagine instatices of the «-ategories of Mechanism and Lit** outside the spheres ..f Mechanics and Biology, and this helps us to realise the didereiie.' betwren the concrete state and the category which Hegel calls after it. But of the category of Cognition th«r<' is no example kn«)wii to us and, as far as 1 can see, MO example imaginalile by us. except the concrete state of cognitiuii. We cannot. I think, conciiv.- .uiy way in which such a iinitv should be for each (»f the individuals who einiipose it, except by the individuals b«'ing conscious. This intnxluces a danger which dtHS not exist in so great a degree with the other categories of Meel.anism, ('hemism, and Lilt — namely, that we should suppo.se that we hav.' d.Tnonstratrd more of the charac- teristics itf cognition by jiure thought than in fact we have demonstrated. And great care will be needed, theref;)re, when wr come to ap|)ly the conclusions gained in this part ot the dialectic to eosmological problems. 17. The \nui' idea ..f (\.gnition, to which the process of the .lialectic has now eondueted us. is ih^r from any empirical element either in its nature <»r its d(»monstration. It is true that it is suggested t(» us Ijy the tact that there is part <.f ..ur experience — thr existence of our own consciousness — in which the category comes |)r..minently forward. It is possible that we might never have thought .)f such a category at all. if we had not had such an examjile i>f it so clearly oti'erwi us. But this does not atl'ect the validity of the transition as an act of purr tli.»ULrl,t. The mami.'r in which the s«)lution of a problem has b.-ru Miggrstrd is iniiiiaterial, if, wlien it has been suggested, it can 1m- deiuonstnited. Is the transiti^;i-r trom one to the other resembles closely the 16 II U M AN 1 M M < I ETA LI 1 1 HUMAX IMMORTALITY 17 Ininsition to a Synthesis. Certain difficulties and contradictions Mtm in the catigoiy of Lifi% which forliid us to consider it as ultiiimtely valid, and the claim of the rMtr^ory of Cognition to ¥ali«lity lies in the fact that it can transcend and remove these contradictions. But this gradual su I ninli nation of the triadic fiirui to a more din^fl mo\eiiient is a characteristic to be found thr. nighout the I..»gic, and one which by no means iiniMiirs. its valiility'. The fruiisitiou must therefiire k* judged as a transition to a Synthesis. Nnw the <*vidi'nri- lor such a transition is always in sonn- degree negative only. Wi' have rt;ached a category to which the dialectic inevitably lead.s us, and which we cannot tilt I. tore give u|i, but which presents a contradiction, and which we Ginnot therefore accept as it stands. The contradiction must 'he reinovi»d. Now the necessity uf the pr<»|»osiMl Synthesis lies ill the fact that it cjin th* this, ainl that no uthi-r idea can, .so that our choice lies l>.-tween a«'cr[»ting tlir Synthesis in qm-st ion and asserting a contradiction. So far, therefore, the proof of the valiility of th.; Synth. ^is is in a wnse incomplete. For it is never possible to provi- tliat no othi-r idea eouM be proposed which a nihi remove the CHiitradiction. All that can kf done is to consiiier any jtarticular idea wliich may be put forwanl for that purp»s<.j. &>, in this case, oiir justitieation in asserting the claim of Cognition to be a ealrgory of the Logic lies in the belief that no other .solution can k found for the ditficulties of the category of Life. But, until some other solution hft.s l>een found, or at least suggested, it would be tiitile to doubt the validity of the transition liecause of such a bare jiossibility. It is abstractly possible that ther*; is some simple lc»gicjil fallacy in the fifth pro|Kisition of Euclid, which hits es4:'a|M -d the notice of e\«*ry jierson who has evtr i.-ad it, but will be found out to-morrow. But fMissibilities of this x.rt a,re niraningless*. \V(* must rememkir, too, that any idea which involves any of the jirevious Ciitegories «»f tlie Logic, exei-pt in a transceinled * I limv« endeavourfd to^ proti* this to Stit>ii..'i in the Htgeliitn Dialictic, Climp. IV. ■* Cp. Mr Briiclk»y's Lo^ic, Book I. Cliai't. vn. form, can be pronounced beforehand inadequate to solve the problems otfered by the category of Life, by which all such categories have themselves been transcended. And this con- fines the field, in which an alternative solution could appear, to very narrow limits. 18. We may sum up the argument as follows, putting it into concrete terms, and ignoring, for the sake c»f simplicity of e-itpression, the possibility of the category of Cognition having other examples than cons^-iousness — examples at i>resent un- known and unimaginehilos«)pliical .system which rt^ected this view would have t(. adopt on*- of tlinc alternatives. It might regard reality as ultimately consisting }»artly of spirit and partly of matter. It miglit take a materialistic position, and regard matter as the only reality. Or, holding that sjnrit was the only ri'ality, it mij^ht deny that spirit wjls neee.ssarily and mtirely differenti- ated into i)ei-sons. Of each of these i>ositi.»ns it might, I believe, be shown tliat it cmild he forced into one of two untenable extn-mes. It might not be in earn«st with the differentiation of the unity. In that rasi' it could be driven into an Oriental pantheism, refoning .verything to an undit!erentiated unity, which woidd neither account for ♦•x|)erience nor have any meaning in itself. Or else-and this is the m«»st jirobable alternative at the [iresent time— it might i.rescrvr the ditlVreii- tiation by asserting thr existence, in each memher of the plurality, of some element which was fundamentally i.solated from the rest of ex[>erience. and only externally ctmnected with it. In this case it w.ndd liavc fallen l)ack on the categories of Essence, which the diale<-tic has ahvady shown to he untenable. 19. ' Lotze, al.«, holds the view that the ditferentiatiims of tin; Ahsolute cannot be conceived except as conscious k;ings. His reas.>n, mderd. f.ir this conclusion, is that only conscious beings couUl giw the necessary condunation of unity with change'. This argument would not Jippeal to Hegel. But he » Metaphyxk, Si'Ctiun %. IS HUMAN IMMORTALITY HUMAN IMMORTALITY 19 also points out.' that we can attach no nieaEin,g to the existence of anything as iifwirt from th*- existence of GcmI,^ unless we conceive that thing to he a (N.n-'ioiis being. Here, it seems to me, we have the i«1ea that consciousiie>s is tlit* uiily «ht!\*n:'iiti- afcion which is able to resist the f^irce of the nnitA' of tbe Absohite. .Lotze. however, (It-stniys the Hegelian ehMractcr o( hiH fiosition (ancl incidentally, contradicts the funchiuiental dwjtrinesofhisowii Metaphysic) by treating the indi\ichiality of theconsri«.ns iMMug** as soinethiii'^' which tends tos«'parate them from (jod, insu*ad of as the ,.xprvs>ion of their unity with him. 20. The sulKlivisions of the category of (;i.gniti.>n do not concern u,s here. The tninsitirm tVoin ( ■'ogiiilion to the Absolute Idea itself is siui|ile. In Cognition we had a harmony— a harn.oiiy of each part with the whtile. sin< -e tlie uMture of each |)art is to rqirmiuce the nature of the whole. Now harmonies are of two di'ffiirent kinds. One si.le inay lie dependent on the other, so that the harmony is secured liy tlie determining side always being in c«jnformity witli tin- di'ter mining nide. Or, again, neither sidt* may be de{Mjndent on the other, and the barm«»ny may be due to the f;ict that it is the essential nature of each to be in harnniny with the other, so that neither of them needs iUiy determination from without to [irevent its divergence- The hanniniv which we have found t«> be the nature of reality must l>e of the latter kind. The nature of the whole is not determined by the nature of the individuals, nor the nature of the individuals by the nature of the whole. For if either of th€»sesup[M»sitions were true then the deterniining side — whether the whole or the individuals — would be logically prior to the other. If, however, the whole was logically prior to the individuals, we should be back in the category of Chemism. And if the individuals were logically jirior to the whole, we should be back in the category of Median ism. Both of these categories havf* l)een triuisc»,*n«led a.s inade«|uale. In the category of Lite we saw that the two sides implied one another on a fcM)ting of iMjrfect eipiality. The plurality has no meaning ' Metaphif»k, Section ttS. MicntcMmiii, Ikxik n. Chap, iii (iii. 533^ triuw. ii. M4}. ,^^r ' nBl except to express the unity, and the unity has no meaning except to unih' the plurality. The passage from Life into Cognition conUuned nothing which could destroy this wpiality of the two sides, which, thereOire, we must still regard as tnie. And thus we must consider the harmony produced in Cognition to be one in which the two sides are harmonir>us, not by the action of one or the other, but by the inherent nature of both. Knowledge ane ade<[uate examples. For harm(»ny is secured in knowledi^,. when the content of the individual is in accordance with the content of the whole. And the harmony of will is prcxhiced when the content of the whole harmonises with that of the individujd. But here the subonli- nation t)f one sich' to the (»ther must e a diti'.rentiated unity, and that the unity must be for each of the individuals who f.,rm the differentiations. Tlie transition has only further determined our view of the nature of the relation between the individuals and the whole. It still remains true that it is that particular relation of which the only example known to us is consciousness. This is m far as pure thought can take us. We have now to consider th.- application of this result to the .piesiion ot the inunortality «*f the selves which are known to each of us, in himself anrobable hypothesis. F5ut, after all, they are both possible. It is pissible that the lundainental differentiations may be some unimaginable things other than selves, or that they may be selves other than our own. Ill that ease f>ur selv.s would be degraded to an inft'rior |iosition. Tliey would have some reality, but they would not be real as s* -Ivts. or, in other words, to call them our selves would bean inad* Mjuate I'xpivssion of that reality. The case w.iuld only differ in degivr, ji,,in that, f..r example, of a billiard-l»all. There is winie ivalitv . i»f course, corresponding to a billiard-ball. But when we lo< »k on it as material, and bring it under those categories, anil thos.- only, which are compatible with the notion of n.atter, wr aiv l.ioking at it in an inadeipiate way. It IS not uttnly and eompletely wrong, but it is only a relativr truth. It is prissible that this is the case with our selves. The view of the univ.Ts, • whicli accepts the reality of me and you may be one which has only relative ti'iith, and practical utility in cntain cireunistanc s. The full truth about the rejility whicli I call me and you may be that it is not me and you, just as tlie full irutli about what we call a billianl-ball would be that it wa> not a jiiece of matter. 23. We must look for a more positive argument. \Vc have shown so t-ir. if we hav... In-m su.-cesNtul. that our selves have certain charactrTi sties which thry would have if they wnv some of thi* fundamental dift-rentiatious of reality. \Vhat is HUMAN IMMORTALITY 21 W IBIiii''' IS now required is to show, if p< »ssible, that our selves have chai-ac- teristics wliich they could not have, unless they were some of the fundamental differentiations of reality. And something, I think, can l)e said in supfMirt of this view. 24- One of the most marked characteristics of our selves is that they are finite, in the onlinary sense <>f the woni There are few things which appear so c« Ttain to the plain man as the fact that hr i< not the only reality in the universe. Yet when I en([uire Jis to the division which exists V»etween myself and anv other realitv, I find it .juitf impossible to re, I should not lu- (;«>nscious of them. And, also, if they were i.utside me. I sh.ndd not exist. F«)r the })ure I, thouj.;h doubtless an essential moment of the self, is only a mom. ni and t outside mr, and that it is these images which I know. But this theory breaks flown. No one. of course, would as>.rt that something I knew— my friend, for instfuice— existed in my mind in the same way that hr *'Xisted for himself. But it is e.pially untenable to itssert that he e.xists exclusively outsid.- ne-, and that I otdy know an image of him which exists exclusively in me. For then I should only know the image— not him at all— an.l tlierefore should not know it to be an image, since n«>thing ean he known to be a copy unless we are aware of the existen.r of its an-hetyp. Now we are aware of tli.' existenci' of images in our minils; we rec(»gnize them as sueh ; we distinguish them from the reality that they Kjpresent; and we make judgmenis alxKit the latter. I say that I have an image of my friend in my mind, and also that he really exists. The sulgect of this second assertion is clearlv ni*t an image in my mind. For the second assertion is 99 hi:m.an immcirtality HUMAN IMMORTALITY 23 \i aiWitioBal tr». an.] r.mfnist. <1 with, a statement alHHit such an image. It ciui only be taken m a statement about my tnend himw^^lC Ut m .assume it to be true {m some such stateiiieiits must be. except on the hyiM>the>is of Solipsism). Then its tnith sh* »ws that mv frieori exists, am 1 m>t mereh a^ my mental Stat*', that i.. tluit'lM* rx.st> .mt>i(i.' m.*. And yet he is an object of my ciinsciousi.rs^. And how can hr hv that, unless he is also irisi»ir iii«- ' ^ • ir r Thus thr- theory thai we ivtutrs itself t.)r, if it wnv so, uv >htiul imag.- It is p4,ssil»li:-- tl.f -lu.'stion dor> nnt vimwm us hen— that we only know reality oth.r lha,n oui-.-Kts throngh inf\,Trnc.,-s base.:! on images which aiv ^iniply in oiir iiiii»ds. But that we do know soiin'thing miiri' than iiiiagf^ is i»rovi(l by thr fact that we know ijiMigrs to 1)*. Mieh, And tliis somi^thii.- inoi>. must be outside us to make our ki.owh 'iige triir, and, iii>id.- us to make our know- ledge |K»sible. 26. Again, while the s.-lf can u^v.-r say of any reality that it is finly oiii:^ide it, it is iM(ually imiMissible tor- it to say of any reality that it !> only insid.- it. By the vi'iy ll:iet of saying « I know it.' I iiiMkr :i di>tiii.tioH iMtwe.ii the ! who know, and the thing which is known. Tlir only ivality of wliich it could be assertri,! that it was inA -riKirated Irom tlir self by the selfs eon^riou^nrs. of if is the pure I. An.i this is n ineiv abstractiim. Without 11 ih.- -^rlf would not .-xist. But taken by itself it is iiothin.g. This discrimination iif the self from the oliject of ktiowledge incrras.- with the incirax- o| knowledge. In i.ropiiit .»f view, be said to have it ni«nv i-..n.pl.t«ly in myself But it is e.jually true to say that, as I more tlioroughly understand its nature, it takes iw»n- antl more the tVirin of a completely and clrarly defiiied oliject. and. in |»r-o|M)i-ti*in as it does this, beanies more eniphatieally not nn'self Th'* >anie coursr may be tra<;ed with will and einotion. .My will can only find satisfaction in anything in proprtion as it appears a liistinct, thi»ugh harmonious, reality. If it should k'come something which 1 could riot disting«iish from myself, the sense of .siitisfaction would vanish into a mere emptiness. And, in the same way, while nothing dmws m m close to others as intense emotion, nothing enables us to appreciate more clearly the fact that those others exist in their own right, and not merely as phenomena subordinate to our own reality. 27. Thus the nature of the self is sufficiently paradoxical. What does it include ? Everything of which it is conscious. What does it exclude f Equally— everything of which it is conscious. What can it say is not inside it? Nothing. What can it say is not outside it ^ A single abstraction. And any attemj>t to remove the [jaradox destroys the self. For the two sides are inevitably connected. If we try to make it a distinct indivi.lual liy separating it from all other things, it lost»s all content of whi»ii it can Ix- conscious, and so loses the very individuality which we started by trying to preserve. If, on the other hand, w.- tiy to sav.- its content by emphftsising the inclusiiui at the rxiM-nse of thr .'xclusion, then the consciousness vanishes, and, sinrr* thr self has no contents but the objects of which it is eonxioiis, the eonti-nt vanishes also. Locke tried the first alternative, ami Irft the fjict that wi- know anything inexplicable, (ireen, on the other hand, came very near to the 8€?cond alti'rnative, and approached pro|x>rtioiially nearly to the ab^urditv of assrrtini; knowlrdgr without a knowing subject. 28. The itlea of tlir s.lf nred not be false because it is |.aradoxical. Hegel has taugiit us that the contnidicti«»ns which the abstract uiulerstanding finds in an idea may Ixj due to the iih*a l)eing toi» concivtr, that is, too tnie, to be adequately m.a>urrd by the al)stract trnns of nirn-ly formal thotight. But a contrarliction is vny far from bring a sign of truth. On the contrar}-. as Hegel fully recognized, an iinreconciled contra- diction is a sign ot .nor. The abstract understanding would pronouncr the catci^'ory of Life and the idea of a four-sided triangle to be cjnally c..ntradictory. Heg..l would agree with the niiii-siiectilative uiulerstanding in taking this as a sign of error in the idea of the triangle. But of the category he would siiy that the Ci)ntradin to be explained;' The explanation 4 HUMAN IMMORTALITY is iliat no idea which is contradictor}', according to the canons of the nndifretanding, is to be jicct'pted as tnie unless the idea can he deduced in such a way as to explain and justify the contradiction. It is in this manner that we gain the right to belif'vp in the successive Syntheses of the dialectic, each of which is contradictory to the abstract understanding, since each i»f them unites Iw- (ontradictciry extremes— a union which the understanding declanss to be c, our result would not br less coiitradictoiT from tlie standpoint of those canons, while wr should liavr lost iht- re«-oneiliation of tin • contradiction which a higher sia.ndj>oiiit gives us. The utiderstanding has no right to reje*-! the solntitm when it cannot eseajie the difficulty. But with the four-sided triangle the case i< very different. There is no c..ins.' of reasoning which leads us up to the conclusion that tour-sided triangles must exist, and thercfiire we take the contradict.iry nature of the idea as a proof, not of the inadei|uacy i»t the nnderstanding to juilge ot the matter, but of the ftdseness of the idea. The idea of the self is iwinidoxical ^contradictory for the uinlerstariding. Then we have two altciriatives. VVe may ti-eat it like the idwi of the Riur-sided triangle, and consider it HUMAN IMMORTALITY 25 - as completely erroneous, and to be got rid of sis .soou Jia possible. Or else we shall have to justify it by showing that the neces- sary course of thought leads us to it, that it is the oidy escape from an unreconciled contradiction, ami that it must therefore be c<»nsidered as too deep a truth to be judgeil by the under- standing. Whether it is to be taken as a relative or as the absolute truth would depend on whethei it did or did not develop contradictions which, in their turn, needed transcending by a fresh idea. 29. To disruiss the idea of self as <-ou»pletely erroyieous — as a pure and simple mistake — would be the cou^^e which Hume would take. Such a course would necessari^v' conduct us to a scei)ticism like his. It would l)e too great a digres- sion to recapitulate heiv tlie arguments to prove tliai such a 8Ce]>ticisru is untenable, and that the idea of the self i*annot l>e summarily lejicted in this way. Nor is it necessiiry tf» * so. For we are now endeavouring to determine what nu. I be thought (»f the .self on Hegelian priuciphs. and it is certaiii that, on those principles, or on tliose of any idealistic ^\stem, it wiiiild be ini[tossible to treat the idea of the self as a mere delusion, even if it is not considered as an adi'«|uat«* •xpression of real it v. 30. The oulv rernaiuiriLj course is tu iiistifv the idea of the self by showing tliat the charactt *risiic> hy which it ot!'ends the laws of the abstract understanding are the result of the inevitable nature of thought, and are therefore marks, n« »t of the error of the idea, but ot the inadeijuacy of the laws. If we take the selves to be the fundamental ditferentiatioii^ of reality, which the dialectic, as we saw, requires, we have obtained the necessiiry explauatinu. For each < »f those dif- ferentiations was shown to contain in itself the content of the whole, though, of course, not in the siime way that the whole itself contains it. I'hus if we ask what is contained in each individual differentiation, the answer i- Everything. But if we ask what is contained in eatiticathin < *i it which will show that the; iiecessan- course '.(f tli«>uj(ht leads up to it, and aU... over it^^that it is r.-latively true as transcending con tradiet ions which wuul.l otherwise b.- unrtMMmrik.d, but relatively 'fiibe as itself developii.u trr>h Diiitra.licti..ns winch inu>t agaMi b«- ti-;u.-r,-i,i!r(l. Can such a deduction be f.iund ? We ejiniHit say with .vrtainty that it ih-v»r will b.'. but at llli\' r..tr it «l«»es fli.t serin tu have lieeU SUgg«*Steil yet. Most •teiupls to deal with lb- s.If ei.ileavniir fo (r.t rid of the vnidox by denying one sidr or th.- othiT-^eitlifr what it in.'linles. Mr Bradley who fullv n-eogni/.r> tin- paradox, and d*>es not a«liiiit the absolute validity r.f the idea. -ivr. im ..x|ilanatiun wliieh will enable us t.i'se.' why tlie idea is to be accepted as having evni p,»lative truth. X„ Sinn up — thr srlt an^wrrs t.i thr (l.scriv»tion of the fundainrntiil ditbrmtialiuiis t»t the Absolute. Nothing t'lse which we know ..r ean iiruigine <|or> >.►. The idea of the «>lf has certain chara.-tn isties which br.n otieiv.l on any other theory. except that i4' rejectm- th- id.-a of the >.-lf altn^,-ih»-r, an«i sinking into coinpletr sc-pticiMi.. The self is so paradoxical that we can find no explanation fm it. rxcej,)t it- a,bsolute reality. Zi. We now jmss on to the ««ond brandi ..f tlie subject. If we are t.» a -cept the selves tliat we know as si»nH' of the funthimental ditfei-eiitiations of the Absolute, does this involve that the selves are eternal ? Th*- Absolute, no doiibt, is etenial, and must be eternally ditlereutiated. Hut is it p.*ssible t*-^*' HUMAN IMMORTALITV ml it should be differentiated by means of an unending succession of individuals, each of whom has only a limited existence in time? Theiv are, I think, two objections to the possibility of this. In the first place it does n.)t seem possible that the differentiations in cjuestion should change at all. and, secondly. if they did change, it would still be impossible that any of them should cease Ci>mpletely. and be succeeded by oth.'rs. 32. Can we then conceive the selves^which we have now identified with the fundamental differentiations— iw changing at all? The «(.nt.'nt of <*ach. we learn from the dialectic, ia simi.ly a reproihiction of the content <.f the wholeV It wdl. therefore, l)e im[»ossibh' ti>r any individual srlf to sufit-r any change, unless the Absolut.- itself likewise changes. (an the Absolute change as a wh«>le ? The Absolute, as I have pointed out .'Isrwhere'. must be considered as having two moments in it. One of these is [.ure thought, the nature of whii-h is determined in the dialectic process, and described in the Absolute Idea. Tlie otlier i> tlie unnameable but ecpially real elein»'nt, wliieh is the immediatr which thought mediates, the existrnc.' of which makes thr ditfcivnce between the still partially abstract Absolute I"-r. we can t-mpluv. but it in rather misleaaiiig. an it s»-«| from one of thes*,,' stages to the other? We must however remember how comriletely anther hand, only exists in so far a.s it einUMlies the element of|)ure thought. Now if this element were to change — say from A'^ }' to XZ — while the element i»f pure thought, of course, reniiainetl the same, it would m,eaB that the diflft'rence between XY and XZ was. * Studiei in the llfffflian IHulrctir, Hection 1-17. imnuiterial to the embodiment of pure thought, since the unchanged pure thought would be equally embcxlied in l)oth of them. And this would be contrary to what we had previously determined — that the element of innnediacy had reality only in so far as it embcKlied the jmre tht»ught. Of course, in ordinary Ilk- we otlen see a thing change its qualities, and yet, by means of those very changing ipialities themselves, continue to eml)o(ly some i)urj»ose oi- meaning. But in all these cases, we liave to eonclud*' that the difference between those chantrintr qualities is irrelevant to what is manitested. And here we have a union between the two sides whicli is so close that we are ft>rbit' pure thought, and that therefore absolute reality as a whole must be reganied as unchanging. Aru»tlier ditticulty is that if we conceive change without causation we icduce the universe to chaos — which is certainly not compatible witli the Absolute Idea. But, if change is to be determined, it must be either from witliout or from within. Now there is nothing outside the whole of reality to determine it tocliange. liiit w»* know Ijy the Absolute bh-a that all reality must be conceived as ab.solutely harmonious. In that casi?, can there be a cause insitle it to deterniine it to move to another state, even if another could be f«iund whicli was equally har- monious ^ 34. But even if it were [M.ssible for the selves to change, would it be jMissible for any of thiMu to perish <* It is not sufficient that the unity should l>e, in a general way, ditf<'renti- ated into some .selvea Th** nature of th< • unity consists simply in its differentiation into th«' parts which compose it, and, as it has a (letiinte nature, that nature nuist deterniine the preci.se nature of the individuals. Or, to put it the other way mund, the nature of the individuals is simply to end)or|y the unity. And. therefore, if the nature i»f the unity did not tleteriuiue the precise nature nf the indivitluaKs, the natui-e of the individuals would not be determined at all. anrl the individuals would not exist. i 30 HUMAN IM,M.OKTALrrY HIM AX IMMOHTALITY 31 Each individual th, ii, has its definite nature, by means of which it «.anifcst« the iiiiity. If one iMiiished, then another mmt take its place. Now can we conc-iw, even if we alloiv the imsMbilitv nf change, tbat .mc self ..mid in this way take the place of another t For, although th.y miglit reseni^.le .,ne another in certain ways, still, by the l»yiH>thes,s, they are diffi'n'Ut individuals. They di»;r then in respect ot their individuality. Anil here there is a . ..uii.lete break between thf iw.i For. if there was n..t. th.-rr would not be the death of one individual, ami the creation of unotlH-r. Such a breax^h in thi' continnitv of the niai.ifestation must imply a similar breach in the ...otiiuuty of what is mamicsted. Now this reduces the supposition to an absnrihty. For, supposing the Absoiuti' til be able to change at all, it must at any mte change continuously. K th..v was a breach in the coMtinuity ot the Absolut.' it w.mld havr tu U' an absolutely complete one— tor there is nothing behind tlu- Absolutr to bridge over the .. t;... R..ilirv would hv divided into two unconnected separatitin. iKmih} woum m pirts^whicli is impos>ible, since they w.mld not tlien Ixith be ivality. And this iiecr<tatiori can ever perish. 35. It may lie olijected t<» this that a breach of ontinuity in the maiiifcstation ne«l not mean a breach of continuity m what is maiiifV'sted. One king dies, and another succeeds him. Here theu is a break lietween the one person and the other, but the same sovereignty p;isses from . me to the other without a break. But in such a ca.se as this the transfusion of mani- fested anil manifestation is not complete. A man is a king only in respect of certain asiMJcts of liis nature. And these he may have in common with his successor, although they are difl\?rent fe >ple. But the selves have no existence except in so fmr as they man it;>st the unity of the Absolute. All their characteristics di. this, and tbereflire there can be no biwch in the contmuitv of any of the cliamcteristics without a breach in the continuity of wiiat is maiiiifested. On the other hand, to snpfMise that one self could succeed another without a breach in the continuity of characteristics, would be to reduce the self to a mere Diii*; an .sich, which would be entirely incompatible with what we have alreadv determined about it. Of course this line of argiiment would not hold with such a view of the Absolute jis Lotze's. For there the Ahsultite is to be taken as somethin*,' m<»re and deejMT than the unity «»t its differentiations, so that, while then* is nothing in them which is iH»t in it, there is scmiething in it which is not in them. In that case a breach in the unity of the differentiations would not neces.<r are rases in which every part is not necessary to manifest the whole, but it is possible for the manifestation tn vary within certain limits. A regiment, for example, camiot exist withfmt soldiers. But each soldier does rn»t fulfil a definite and uni((ue function without which the regiment would cea.se tn l>e a regiment. Thus the breach of continuity betwe.ii any (.fm* soldier and his suecexor do«-s m,t mean a breach in the continuity of the regiment becati.se the other soldiers, w ho are not di.scharged at the .same moment, are sufficient to keep up the continuity. But with the differen- tiations of the .Absolute it is (lifTereut. F^tr it is the nature of the Absniiite to br manifest«'d in precisely those differentiations in which it is manifested, and so a breach in tlv tontinuity anywheii ««»iil»l not be compensated for l)y unbroken continuity elsewhere. The Absolute re«juires each i»«*ir, not to make uji a sum, or to maintain an average, but in respect of the self's special and unique nature. I of ail— those of Quality— there is no such thing as change pjssibie. For, >o long as we (■■*..>nfine oureelves to them, a tiling must either remain .-xactly the same, or cease to t,-xi>t. Tlie moment the slight^fst variation is intn Mhjced, the jireviously existing thing is drstruyrd, and a finite fresh thing substituted in its place. For reality is not yet sepurated into moments in such a way tliat our varies while the oth.'r remains thi- saiii.-. and till then we can have no change, hut <„iidy the substitution of onr reality for aiiotlirr. The first possibility of true changi' eomes in with the eate- g,>,i.H of Quantity.' And that jHissibility develops as we reach the rat»'gorie:i of E>>«-iic.\ wliilc it is greatest, perhaps, in the category t>f iMat^ter and F..nu. But^ although the dialr.-tic starts lieiow the possil)ility of change, it reaches, towards thi- end, a \h .int aljnvc that pssiliility. Changf «)nly Ijeranu- i,K)ssible when the hrst antiei|»ations of Ksmikm- intruded themselvts into Being. It ceases to be pn-siblr a> the last ti'ae. 's of Eweric*- r eliang**, as has hren >aid, \u- ii'*[n\rr l.» look at the reality a.s eoiisistiiig of moments, of whieli -me may change witlioiit aflectiiig thf othi/r. Now this independence of tlie two sides is the mark of Essence. When we reach the inal sukli vision of TeleoKigy, we have at last left this fully behind. This we saw at the beginning of this ehaptrr. while dehning the eategory of Lifr. which has the same content as the la>i t'orui of Teleology. The unity has no meaning except its exi>res>ion in the plundity. the plurality has no meaning except its combinati< »n in the unity. The independrnee of the two sides has gone, and with it the possibility of cliange. If we eo!isider what are the cases in whieli wt- viui say that a thing changes jmd yet remains the .sam.-, we shall tind that we regard them ail from tli»^ point of virw of Ks>riiei'. Either the luanifestation, "^r wliat is uianifr>t«M|, or botli t»f tht-m, must be taken as liaving something in it which is not concerned with the relation between the two sides, and whieli can conseipiently chauee while the other side is constant, or be constant while the other side changes. In the instance which we considered above, when the sovereignty passes unchanged through dit!t'rent kings, th»* kings were e».rieeived as having characteristic.-? other than tht'ir rovaltv, so that thr men were different, while manifesting themselves in the sanu- sovrr^'ignty. In technically Hegelian language, this is a caise of Essence as Appeai-ance, since \\r disreganl the changi' in what is manifested. anur present subject- matter. 37. The view that selves an- manifestations of the Absolute, in such a way that thry ehaiiife and perish while the Absolute remains nnrliang»Ml, is one wliieli has always had an attraction for mysti'-. It is rspieiaJly pnmiinent among Oriental thinkers. Thf most friMjiient metaphors by whieh this thiKight is expressed ail- those of a drop of water returning to tin- ocean, and of a rav of lie selves we have determined as the fnndaiuental differentiations of th»* Absi»lnte, and \\r know that the Absolute is not indifferent to tlie nature of these differen- M'T. a 34 HUMAN IM'MORTALITF HUMAN IMMORTALITY tl5 tiations — on the contnirv, that its whole nature consists in manifesting itself in just these differentiations. Sufh a ¥iew moreover is inrompatible with whal we know of the self by o'bser¥ation. For it would eoin[)fl us to regard each self as tlir form of a certain amount of matter',, which would continue to exist when the ftirni was destroyed, and the self, as ji soil; had ceased to exist. This coiici:*ption, as applied to the self. s»M-iiis to In* iiifjiiiini^less. Tht- self, no doubt, can be diiereniiated into parts. But tfi«-y ;ire |»arts of such a natui-*,' thai they would cease Ut exist vvhni the self ceiised to exist. To regard the Sflf as built up *>i' [»arts, which could exist after it, and be reconiKiiifd like th«* liricks from a ln»use which hfis been pulled down, is to nudrr it ini|M.s tr, and when we do know facts, our de>ii-es are often not in harmony with the lad s wliicli we know. 39. The difficulty is n«> doubt serious rn<.ugh. But it is not, I think, an\' objection to our ititerpretati(„„>n i.f Hegel, k'cause it is a dithculty which apfilies e<|ually to all idealistic theories, howrver interpreted. It is nothing less tlian the old difficulty of the «»rigiu of evil. And for this, as I luive tried to show else when,'-, idealism has no dehnite solution. All that can be done is to »h<,iw that the difficulties a,re a.> >erious if we * Matter ii, of ooiiriw, nimi Iwre m the contrary rin, not of Spirit. * Cp. Studies in thr Hegelian DiMleetkt Chap. v. I deny reality to be perfect, sis they are if we afitmi it. and to point out a direction in which it is not altogether unreasonable to hoi)e for the advent i.f s..me s<.lution at present unimaginable by us. This is certainly not much, but it does not seem that we are entitled at present to any im»re. The Absolute, acconling to Hegel, is timeless and perfect. In this cjnclusion most idealisti<' >ystem> would agree. We find around us jind in us, however, a world which changes in time, and which is far from perfect. Yet the Absolute is the only reality «»f this world. How, then, are we to account Ibr the change and thi- imperfecti«»ti ( It is in this form that the problem of evil presents itself to idealism. If we take the selves t«» be the fundamental differentiations of the Absolute, and th» TctVire timeless aneriect, th<' <|uestion will of course hv raised wliy, in that case, the selves appear as changeable and imi»erfect. And to this question no answer has been 'Hven. But We shall n.it avoid the difficulty by giving up our theory. For the selves, whether fundamental or not, still exiiit, and have to Vie accounted for. The oidy reality is the Absolute, which is timeless and iierfect. The question will now take this form — Why does a timeless and pi'ffect Absolute api>ear sis chang« able and imperfect selves ^ And it is as im- possible to return any answer to this qu<'stion as to the other. The gaj) between the iM;rtend to the differentiatiotis of the Absolute, which nothing else that we know or can imagine does, and also, that the selves, in spite of their imf)erfections, show characteristics which are inexplicable if they are not among those differentiations. And thus our proper conclusion would seetii to be that all selves are 3—2 i 36 HUMAX IMMORTALITY timeless and iMtrfect, as the Abwlute is, but that they, like the Ab«<.lnf«' of which they art- thf cliffiTi'iitiations, appear under the foniis of t i ii i e anil i U' 1 1 le r f* •(• t i c » n . 40. Another difficultv which niav be raised is that the activities most proiniiu-ht in (Mirs«'lv<'s are knovvknlge and will. Now neither of these, it laay Im- said, are «'xaniples of the Abwi-iAte Jdef i at all, but ratJu-r tA' thr piwious eateii^ory which He|(el niiiiKs ( 'ot^nition. For in th«' Aljsoliite blca the liarmony is not prodiipt'd l>y th»* subordination of one side to the other. It is the ess.-utiid, natun* of v-.u-h si«le to !.<■ in sueh a harmony, and the i'leji «»f subordiuatiou Ik •< -ohms loeanin^Hess. This is not t}i' I- witli knowledg** and will. In knowledge we condemn «»ur thoujj;ht as lalsr if it dors not corresiMUni U> the realitv outside it, and the harmony is thus ]>n)duced by the subonlination of tlie individual to the whole. In will, on th«* oth<'r hand, we eondemn the reality as unsatis- factory if it does not eorres|icind t<» our* desiiTs. and the harnionv is thus pinductd 1>\ the subonlination of the whole to the individual. T«i this it may be ansvv«,:nMl, in the tirst. jilae*.*, that, besii tatrs. liv the transition fmm ( 'oirriition to the Ab>olirte M«a, that, if tho who].* d«»es exist for any individual, it umst In- V»y neans of that lociiiroeal and »Mjual harmonv whieh is cxpn ss.il In llir Absolutr Idea'. W'r mav thrref<»ri' n*a^onaltly inft-r. sincr ••ur souls show on ol»s«'rvat ion a harmonv unonie liglit on the diffieidt rjnrstion of persimal id«*ntity. 'I'ht- s.lf is not, as sceptics maintain, a nnrv delusion. Nor is it a mer*- eollrction of a,iljfeti vrs. I'rfrrring to no sulistanee exceiit the Absolute. ' C|i. Section 20. H U M A N I M MORTALITY It is, on the contrary, itself a substance, existing in its owe right. This d.u's n< »t uH-an. of course, that any self could exist independently, and in i»«»lati« »n trom all others. Each self ran only exist in virtue of its (•(►nn^ction with all the othei-s, an«l with the Absolute which is their unity. But this is a relation, not of subordinati^.n, but of reciprocal dependence. If each self is deiK'ndml on the others, they in turn are deiiendent on it. If thr sidf has n.. meaning, except as nuuii- festing the Absoluti «, tlie Abs.ilute lias w> meaning except as maniA'sted in tliat self Tlir sidf is not an isolated substance but it mav be properly ealied a substance. In the identitv of the substance lii-s if seems to me, the personal identity. This is a rattier unfashionable mode i.f expression, and it will b*- nec.-^arv to r.ne'nd>er that we are spakini; «»f the -ubstaiicr as it really is, and not of any abstra.'tion (.f sulolant ialiry, and, nioivovrr, that we are speaking c»f the personal id-ntity itM-lf. and not of the signs by which we may inter its existence. 42. It wouhl Ix' absurd to place |»ersonal i'lentity in the imaginary identity of sul>stance regardless of any continuity of attributed. The substance taken apart from its attrilmtes could nevor be tin' basis of personal identity. For all substances, if abstraction wen- mad.- of their attributes, are absoliitidy in/m/ 'in stvh. SubstaiKc is nothing a|»art trom il>< attrilnites. a> the attrd)utes are nothing apart tivmi the substance, and when we i^lace personal identity in the identity <.f tlie substance, we speak ot a substance manifestin!^ itself in its allribuie>. Why. then, emphasise the substance t The reason f« »r this is as follows -".aJI attributes must be referiwl to some substance. Hut. according to s..me ideal.sti.- systems, a self is merely a bundle of attributes, whose substance is tin- Absolute. The self has no substance of it^ .iwn, but i- mnvly a ph.-uomenon i»t the Absolute. On this view tlie identity of the self could not be an M.UMAN IM,MORTALITY identity of substance, as Jill selves are attributes of the same Biibstiiiice. We have taken a view wliieh puts the self higher. and makes each self, not an attribute .»f ..iii' sole self^subsistent snbstance, but itself a srlf-subsistfiit substance, though not an isolated one- (Tru.- srlf-subsistencM' is incompatible with isolation. We can ..uly K'*» >»H-deteniiiiiation by means of detenniiiJition by othti"?^.) This virw is hr..ught out liy calling thf |,H;rsoiial identity an idt-nt.ity f»f substance. Since substance and attributi-> arr only two asin-ets ot tlu* sani.- reality, the identical >nhstaiMv will have idmtieal attri- butes. It might seen» at hrst sight as if identity ..f attributes wm not a condition of prr^onal identity. For thi- wh.>le .luestioii of that identity .an only ai.s,. wlim there i> ehang*' of s.nne sort, a,nfl. if a thing changes, how can its attribntrs be iderituml t In all the changes, h.^wwr. wliicli tht- character of a thing or a fierson mav undergo, th.-re is an aspect which is |iermanent and unchanging, and it i> on that Jisjieet that our attention is ^xed when we speak of identity of attributes throii-h .■hange. For rxam|ih'. a man who was honi.urahle in liis \outh meets with certain temptations, am 1 beconu,*s a scoundrel ui old age. Froni one fioint of view tliis is a ennsiderable diange in his attiil mtes. iJut tV..ni jinoih.r ihry are unchanged. For, whih' he was still an liou.Mirable man, it wa- part of his ehara<-ter that, und.T certain circumstaiic«'s, h.* wouJd Ix-eouie a scoundrel. And, after that has oceurred, it is still [.khi of liis character'— still a predicate which may U- ai»]»lied to liiiu and uia\ lulp to describe him -That,bef. n- tljosr circunistancr's orcurred, he wiia aii honourahlr man. it is ihi^ idi'utity ..f attributes which is involved, 1 think, in i»ei-8iirial identity. Tliere is a ver\ ival difference, certainly, between Ji potmtial and an acimd chai-a.-t.-i-iMie, and tli.' permanent element which prsists :tl! through cliau'-.do.^ i,.a explain that change away, or render it less jMrpltxing liut thr p.rmanent elnnrnt does exist, and it is in respect of that .'h'lnent that, in spite of the cliange, vv«- a,scribe |M:'rsonal ideiitit\- to tlie changed i:»erson. Thei|uestinn |in'^t'nts it.sflf— unf.»rtunately without an an.swer — how a |,M.jnuaiient ami cha.iige!.-ss cliaraeter rouies to develop itself in time and chjin;.'e. But tliis is only part of the larger HUMAN' IMMORTALITY SiJ problem— equally insoluble—hi.w change of any sort is possible, when the ultimate reality is a timeless Absolute. 43. This view seems to avoid several difficulties which stand in tlie way of the theory that i^ersonal identity consists in memory. Personal identity, no d.)ubt, is the identity of a conscious being, but it does not at all 1-dlow from this that it must be an idmtitv .»f which the i»ossessor is conscious. Such a theory, to begin vvith. mak.^s jH-rsonal identity something which continuallv fluctuates. 1 may have coiupletely forgotten some pust episode in my litV'. and then be vividly reminded .,t it by discovering an old letter. If identity lies simply in memor)', we iHU>t h.»ld that I had c«'ased to b.; identical with the person wh.. had taken part in those rvmts, and that, after I had found the letter, I became i.l«'ntical with him again. We do not only tor^«'t what is insigniticant. We often forget rveuts which make a pnifound ditferenir to the whole of our future liws. InM-aus,. we were too young or too dull to ai.preciate their sigmticanr.. And n.> man could possibly remember all th.' acts or torlM'arances, each by itselt tritling, which helped t«, torni his character. And yet it was sur^-ly he wlio di.i them. If thr uian who instinctivt- ly a<-ts unselfishly m an emergencv were n<»t the same man whose tV»rgotten choices of unselti>hness liave drtmuined tliat instinctive action, would personal identitv haw any meaning at all ' And if the "iKist c;uinoi torm i)art of our pi'rsonal identity unless it i- remembered, wliat almut a past that is ivuieiulxrrd. but ha. n.vvr takm place ! (borg- the F.mrth said, and api>arer.tlv in gooa\ that, ii .i m.uiu . jt M- reui.Mulier' /fs past, he Would th..n-upi.n l)ecome nlentical with li ■ , . Nor does personal identitv ^-ui to have much meaning if it loses its .nnn.rtion with the special and uniMUe interest 40 h:i;m.an immortality HUMAN IMMORTALITY 41 which we feel in our own fiitiire as distingiiished from that of anyui>i»ose a man could be assured that in a short tim«' h.- would l«»se f>r fvrr all merii<»ry of the past. Would he consider thi> to Im- annihilation, and take rui more' int^erest in llw |>i-rHon of similar characti-i- who would occupy his old body than hv w..uM in any stran^'er ' Or would a man ai.i»roachin,j( the pate of hell los.' all si'ltish regret f^.r his |K»sition if In- wa^ assured that nirin(.ry as well as h.»|M*, must b*- l«'ft bi'hind on his mtranc-i* ' It is not, I think, toimd that k-li^vri- in tninsinignition an- inditlrnnt t.. thrir tat*' after thrir next dfatli. And yrt thy l»eli«*ve, in the ma.j«»rity of casrs. that thi- n.xl d.atli will. f^>r the timo at least, break the chain oi" nit> simply in cojitinuity i.t rliara(t<- of thr t!i.*ory 1 ha\.' advurated ii|y,ve —that is. it would affirm and deiiy personal ider.tity wliereviT the i»ther the.iry athrmeil or denied it. For identity nf substanee. wr ^^aw, was «»nly th»- oili.-r side of id»vntity ot attributes. a,n«l identity of a,i tributes mu-t iv-\ral itsejt in lime as a,n ordi*r.-«l Niiecession of .-haiii^es. tif which each tlet.-nniiM-s thi- next. So that admitting that pers.mal identity lay in ideiititv of snbsf.inr.- oiir way of determining whether two states beli>nge- stan ce, and in ikes the self into a bunf attributes, which are attributes ..f notlunLj. 45. In alt. 'milting, as I have attempt.-d, to demonstrate the immortality of the self jis a conse<(uencr of an idealist 1 system, it is impossible to forget that the latest idealist system consider^ immortality to be improbable. Mr Bradley's authority on this fM.int is very great. He do.w not call himself a Hegelian. But f\>w professed Hegelians, if any, un«lerstand the secret of Hegel's philoso[»hy so well. And few professed Hegelians, I will venture to say. aiv so thoroughly Hegelian in sj.irit. His definition of the Absolute, too, ha.s much resi'tnblance to Hegel's, it IS therelore of the gn-atest imp..rtane.- to us that he should hav.' cinne to a ii point of \ i.w. s.v.ral meanings which may l)e given to tlie word self-'. With reg^u•d to all of these in.anini^s but oi..-. tew peoplr. I tliink, w.iuld disaigree with his .-onclusion iliat tli-y are to,M-onfused and coiitradietory to be accepted as ade.|uat.' to reality. But when we come to the self as til.' ;it i^taet»»ry. He ..bjects that we cannot find in th.' s.lf any cont.'iit which is always subject an.l n.'Ver ..bj.ct. < >r. if wr .-aii. at most it is the pure I, wliich. tak.-n liy itself, is npl. t.ly trivial, indeed unmeaning, and cannot Im- a.'.-.pt.-d as a k.y to th.' natun- of all reality. What.ver is ..bj.'.'t, h..w.v.r. is noi-.rlf. an.l thus the self (hvin.ll.s away ..n .xaininatioii. If w.- take what is pure self only, w.- havr'an mine ;ming abstracti.»n. If we take in any cont.nt' w.- tin.l that it is— at any rat.- pot.ntially-n.4-self «. 46. All this isdoubth-s .piite tru.-. The ..nly .l.inent in self wlii.'h is self an.l nothing r\>r is an abstracti..n. whi.-h, taken by it<.lf, i^ a non.'Utity. And the self had imly reality l)y including in its.'lf that which is just as much not-scdf But it is not cl.arwhy this -houl.l b.M-onsi.l.'rv.l as atft^cting theade.iuacy of the idea of seitl If anv iMJrson, indeed, w.-r.- t.. a-.Tt that the s.-lt was an adeiiuate repres.-ntation ..f ivality, an.l at th.- same time to I j^,^...,r.n.,: und lUulay, ilXmv xxvi. p. 501. Mv r.U-u-ntm are to the ediii.m of iM'.iT. ■^ op. ,it. Chup^. IX ami x. ••* up. cit. Chap. IX. pp. ^>^- 1I»J- 49 HUMAN IMM'OKTALITY identify the self with the pure I, taken in abstraction, from anything else, his position would lie absolutely untenable. But the knowing self is not at all idontieal with the pure I. whirh. if taken in abstniction, neither knows anythin^r „or is anything. The knowing self is a concri't.* wlioN- of which th< • |»ure I is *»ne abstract olcnient. It is d«>ul)tlcss an in- dispensable element. It is doubtless nH»aningl«.*ss when taken in abstraction, Bu,fc I'M^twern thesr^ two thrts there is no con- tradiction. Whenever one rlnnt-nt of a concrete whole is taken in abstraction the sanir thing i' -nrs. Taken by itselt it is ni»?aninglrs., fV»r it is only an element, and can only eiist in c(»nd»iniitioti with ih.- other element. But it is also essential, for. if it is withdrawn, it leaves nothing but another abstract 'Irmmt, aixl this liy itself would also be nieaniriKh'ss. The other element, tesid.- thr pure 1, whicli is found in the krtowing s.lf is the n<.t-self Why should this not Im- so? It is doubtless paradoxiad in the highest degree, as lia> l)een liointed out above. The s<'lf can *>n!y exist in so far as its content is both in :uid ..utside it. liy tlir wiv act ot knowledge it at once arrrpts the Content as |»art «»f itself, and re|>els it a> an indtj.endent reality. And thus no limits can be [lut to thf self For if wi' rxeludf whairv«r is n«»t self, tin- x'lf shrinks to a plionld iiuluce Mr Bradley to reject the idea it\ sell as inadi'*.-*' in tliis any *>l>jection tt. its truth'. And if the idi,:-a, iff tlie Absolute is para.loxiea,l, it is surely to be ex|»ect.<,H,l that, ii we are al»le to arrive at an adiMjuate idea of tlie different iMt ions of tile AI)solute, that i«lea will also bi; fMiradoxieal. If the abstract un,derstan.iing cannot accept the truth al)out the unity, is it probalih* that it will Ih- able to accept the trutli about th*- plurality which adeipiately »-x presses ' (>. r.^'. I,./,', rit. Chap. XV. pp. n.V-'^4S3., "^ »-i n*«<*ll« 'Mf^^-mmn^^ HUMAN IMMOKTALITV 43 that unity? It would seem that it is rather the absence of paradox than its presence that should be loiAud up>u with suspicion here. The adequacy of the idea, of course, is not in the least proved by its paradoxical nature. It c.uld only be proved by a detailerl deduction fiom the nature of the Absolute, of the kind which I have attempted above. What I contend here is, that tlie idea is not i)roved to be talse because it is paradoxical. 47. Treating more directly of immortality, Mr Bradley points out that our desire Ibr immortality atlords no reasonable ground U believing in it'. This cannot be denied. An idealistic th.nrv of the univei-se may perhaps justify us in believing that the fundamental natuiv of spirit will eventually gain its tiill iviUisation, and that all ilesires which really express that fundamental nature will be -ratitird. But then what human desires iln really exjiress the fundamental nature ot spirit? That could only be settled by an invrstigation intr> the natuiv of realitv si. thorouijh that it Wi.uld i»robal)ly settle the c|Urstio,i of inimortalitv in a les> sil,ility. Our Held of observation is tr.o small to n.ak.- inm tile beginning of historv (an.l tins is notori(»usly not the ca^. ). this w..uld have no more f.>rcr than the desire entertaitH-d by a certain iiroijoition -.f th.-m tliat the wicked should si,end their Hm.al lite in everlasting torment. ^ 48. .Mr Bradley s.rms t.. doul)t if immortality would give the n'li.'f for the sakr of which it is den.anded-*. lb- says. with pn.found truth, that the iiartings mad.- by life are harder to l)ear than those made by death. But are not the iiartmgs „f i,t, .,ne of those troubles for which tlie help of immortality is mr.st passionately denian.le.P In proimrtion as love has pp»spered on earth, its cessation at .hath semis less intolerable. Fur in sucli fruition, however short, there is an element of I M/;. rit. Chlip. XXVI. p. 'j07. * i,p. itt. Chap. xxvi. p. .>U«J. H.UM,AN IMM.OHTALITY eternity, which, so for as it gocH, makes its cessaticiii in time irrelevjint '. It ih when the mischances either of life or death ha\-e interfere'! between the birth and the Adness of emotion that onr lonj^ing f««r anoth^-r chance is strongest and deepest. These howrv.r Mn. .,uesti.m. which philosophy can presume neither to negl*,„'ct nor to discii>s a,r^ length'. And woidd im mortality helji us ' On this point, also, Mr Bradley ^••••rn- doiibtfiil. Mnch deiwiids, no doulit, on whether \v«- an- to h»>!d that tiinc'. taking reality as a whole, brings pru;r,vss with it. The point is too larg*- t*» bo discii^^sed in passing, i H C€inr ulti,nHU.|y .val. And ihe iii'-iv [»rnlial.lr ruficlrjsioti mmius to 1m- that progress is as real as the imp.ifrrtion for llie removal t »t whieh it is iieed«Mil Even, howrv.T. if this w.n- not su, and wr ha«l reason to siipposr the woiM not t«» 1m • pingrrssing in tine-, bnt to Ik- ..n a dead level, that .irad levrl, I think, wnuld 1m: higher if selves Win- unmoital than it tli.v wnv imt. For th«' d.'ep.>t l.tngings of our natun- an- al>n thf nit»st |Hjrsi.>ieni. It is «-asy enough, a- r\jH,-rience sh»iws. tnr unfiivourable (*irhn.,ld n.vrr beconie fUvour- able to them througlifiut a duration indefinitely pn.longrd. And, ' It is ii«tt, I think, jii-o*5 -1.1. ?" . ...I fhi- liii.' df ihinii,'!il wt far as to af*MTt that a "InU- «»f con i .. . ... .:. • i ii><' >•' liiul' thiil Us iluratiori or txliiMiioii ill tiiiu sh.HiM h.^ <•../((/»/. /»/»/ iroh-viiii!. Il is tnir thai if Niich a siiiti- rt-JM'hfd al»s,,liu. [►. rf. «t!..i,. it wuiilii tint matt, r if il \\i\< . xtumuiHhed iimiM'iliHttly aft«i vvaril-. Hut uhv is thi- Only l«-(:ius. n j'titVcl slatf j.s ail it.riial "-It,, 1111(1 ih. tl ih.il .1..'.' not r.-iinir. ilurali jHfrf(«tioilg 1.. i.. .lisphiv.-.I in. Ihit tli. n th.- i-ti'iiial is th.- tiim-h-ss. and thereforf it- end in tiuM- i- not only unimportant, hut inin'isMhh*. On thf otlier hand, if a state dcH'H end in titjM . it is not couii)l< t-, v . i. nnil, or ron»i>lt;telj iwrfrct, and then itrt end m time is nut alisohitcly irrcl»-\ant. If we di-uy tliat a piTfi-ct staff i- i-tfrnuh w.- liav.- no r<,-aM»n to suppose that a l«rf.(t -tat. I- ill litT.nril to Hs duration, lint if tiie iH-rffct is the eternal, it •twns ijuitf «-lfar that n.» -tale, whii-h is imiH-rffet fiiougli lo c.-as.- in tioie, eari be perfect t'ni»ii«h to «-niii'"ly disrrfaul it,-, n-sation. * A Eiort* a i* .|iiat.- . .,n-i.i. lalion of ihis suhjnrt lUan i- I'o-sible in prose will k» found in ** Tlie IjcmI I*e»<.pliy. as has been generally admitted. bears a ivsmiMan. n many |M)ints to Hegel's. His opinicm, howevr-r, neeil ni .t inspire any dies to tin- uncritical beliefs of common lite. They must in a s.-n^.- he our siarting- point, but only to l).- criticis. .-rnaietms it i> .uriMus that he should not have seen that the ..ther lialf. if it was lo be r. taine.l, would rcpiire demonstration. Thus the result of his treatment in the ' Mi'tapliijMic, Section 2 LI. 46 ,H.UM1N 1M,M,0ETAL1T¥ Metophysic is that the unity is iB a jmsition of greater impor- tance' and security than the differentiation. For it has been demonstrated that tin- universe niust !>*• f.iiidamentallj one, but not that it must b** fundaiiH'ntully many. When we pass to Lotze's treatment of the Philoscjphy of Re!i|rion we find this unit\ chanired in its character. In the Metaphysic it had n.* name bin M. It was scarcely suggested that it was spiritual. Its main function was t<» permit inter- .action betwfi'u its various raanifestations. But now it has been transfDnned into a jH-rsonal (Jotze's maturv jiHljrm(.nr h**ld this transit i«»n to be valid His tiiUest trratnient, indeed , oi' the unity as a personal God, is in the Microcosmus, which is i earlier than the Metaphysic. But the Lectures on the I*hilosophy .»f Religion take the same line as the MimMoMnus. And we must therefore take the M of the Met aph\sie as only a provisionid stage in the pr<»cess of determining all reality as a j.ersonal iUtd. This change in tli.- nature of M rendered it very desirable that Lotze should be able t<» consider the unit}- its deeiM'r- than its phiralitv of nianife>tatioris. and as not exhaustei<|er a unity as personal, even if it was completely man ill -s ted in a system of j)ers«»ns'. (It must be remembered that Lotze hehl that we could not conceive the finite nmnifestation.s of the Absolute except as conscious.) Hut it is clear that it Wi>u!d be mnch easier to conceive it as jiei-sonal, if it were taken as being more than could be exi.resse(l in such manifestations, ami as being logically prior to them, instead of being simply their complement. Moreover, Ibr ethicjd and religions reiisons Lutze was anxious to make his (J»m1 .something higher than tlie world of plurality, and, therefore, suniclhing more than the unity of that plurality. This he was enabled to nsciously, the unity in a nuich stronger position than the plurality, having jiroved the neces>ity of the one, and not of the other. Ancl, now, when M had developed into a jiersonal O'Od, the same characteristic was preserved. His God is not * Tliia will be (iiflcuRsMl in the next Chapter. Section BB. HUMAN IMMOKTAIJTY 47 quite the God of onlinary theology. For he is not merely the highest reality, but the only reality, and (in spite of various occasional ex}>ressions to the contrary) Lotze apjMjars still to take the finite world as (Jod's manifesUition rather than his creature. But there is m* logical ecjuality betwei-n the unity which is Lotze's (iod and the plurality which is his w(»rld. The plurality is dependent (.n the unity, but not the unity on the plurality. The only existence of the world is in Gmi, but God's only existi'uce is not in the world. 51. We have not to empiire if this theory is tetiable. Tt is sufficient that it is Lotze's theory, and that it would make any demonstration of immortality «iuite imjiossible. Our only guarantee nf the imm« »rtality of a self would be a demonstration that the e\i>tehee «»f that self was essential to the Absolute. And this could only lie the ease if it were a necessity tor the Absolute to manifest its.lf in that particidar stilf Now the personal G.mI who is Lot/e"> Absolute has no such necessity as part of his natun*. He exists iitherwise than its he is manifested. And from this Lotze is )u>titie(l in drawing the conclusion that he could exist with m " in a world whf>se unity is only < xt*Tnal. Of this reasoning he says, -we iiiight k; giail to accept its guanint.M- fur irnni.,irtai!ty.. Jnit the other coiichisicm which is forecil ..n us at thf> samr tini.-. ih.' iiitiiiite pre-existcrice of the soul before tlie lite we know, reiiwiifw, like the ininiortality of tli.' sihiIs of all animals, strange and improbable'." The conception of thr >elf a,s a stable iitom is not, <»f r.Mir'se,, the .mc which w«- liavr put forward. Btit^onr view alsi» srciits to involve the pre-existcucr of the self in tunr. The tiiiivei-se wa;^ e.-rtainly nianitesting itself in time !)♦»*«> iv^ 1 vas bi mi. And to suppoM* tliat 'parts of reality .'ould b.-^in time, wljil*- other part> wire not, srare.ly srrms .ouipatihle with the unity .if all reality. The moiv j.robable liypoih.->i> is tliat the whok of reality, in itsrlf timrlfs^., i^ manifVst.Ml throiighoiit iIh. whol*- of tin.-. The iNpiiite pr. -.■\i>t.nrr of the self would not nrrr»a,nlv folltiw from this,. For, at ai»y ratr. tlinv is no greater contradiction in snp|Misii.ig time to hav.- hrgun. Umn ifi sirp|M:»iiig that an intinit.- -rTi.'s has .-lap-cd. But its pre- exist. ne.' throughout time would Im- a fair infcrrncv. Nr.r is there anythin<; about tl.e pi.-.-iit . xistence iif each of iis which wouM suggi'st the view that it was, in each case, the Hrst of a >.Tie> (Irstiiii'd, til be indetiiiitely prolonged. 53. Our lives indeetl are so tragmentary that, in trying to explain them, we are alnio>t tied dt»wn to two alternatives— eitlier th.-y mean n.^tliing. or tli.y are rpiso.les in a l.Mig chain. Tliat thev should mean nothing— or at least iiolliin- «xr.pt a.s a mean,s to somethin- < I- — is not coiiiiiatibl.* with tin- view of the srlf vvhi.li wr hav./ l.e.i, Ld to adopt. And any attempt to give them meaning would s. .in !.. reipiire that tli.y should iiut be tlie only manit. slatii.iis in time of the >rlves which exjM >rience them, Imt shimld iVirm part of a longer iMor,>^, stretching l>efo|v a^ Wril as after. Neither this imr any other hypothesis can .'Xjilaiii tVir H8 the ultimate niv>t« ry why any evil or unhappirM» *\i>is. But this hypothesis miglit at any rate enable us to sre some ixissibility of ;in exi)lanation \shy they seem to us, wlio can only » J/f fnpA^jiV, 'Seclioii 2t.'i. I HUMAN IMMORTALITY 49 see one life of each self at once, to be so unequally distributed The evidence which we coidd gain by such empirical observation, indeed, could never by itself be strong enough to give any reason for belief in our pre-cxistence. But what little weight it has, will be on that side. Lotze calls this belief strange and unsatisfactory. If he means by its stniiigeiiess that it is unusiuil, he Inis made no very serious objecti«»n. And it is only unusual if we limit ourselves to the western world. For its strangeness, if strangeness means extravagance, and for its unsatisfactori- ness, he does not give any arguments. And till some are givi'M, the nirre assertion is not of much importance. There seems to be an implication that thi- idea of pre-exist<»nce is one that we should n«»t accept willingly. But this would prove notliing against its truth. A system of idealism, indeed, may lay claim t«) so much optimism as to Ixdieve that the univer.se is bound to honour all th«' demands made on it by th<- true nature of the human spirit. But the present anm[»aratively isolated lives, none of which c^an remember any- thing but itself, may be thought to have no value from a practical standjw.int. We might a.s well be mortal, it maybe maintained, as immortal without a memory beyond the present It is cpiite true that a life which remembers so small a part of itself must be rather fragmentary. But then this is an -ibjec- tion to all life in time, whether it could all be remembered or not, for all life in time declares itself, by that very fact, to be imperfect. If time is itself a transitory form, and one with M«T. * i i tmumtfii 50 H,UM A X I M MORTA LITY which eteniity will some cliiy' clispeiise, then the reality which MOW foriiis ft tiiiie-Hreseiit in a way which would render iiiemory quite supertiuous. But if time m to continue in a never-ending duration, then an infinite series of lives forgetful of the ftist would not be more meaningless, and would certainly be less dreary, than a single unending life curse^l with a continually growing memory of its own false iiifinity. If we can get rid of time, we can dispense with menioiy. If we oiniiot get rid of time, memory would become intolerable. 55. If each life had no etiect on its sucn'ss.irs, then, indeed, there would be little |M>int in calling thmi all liws of the same person. But no on*.* has suj^gested that this would be the case. If the same self |Misses tlir-mi^di difterent lives, it is certain that whatever inmlitifatidiis in its natun- took placr in one life would be reproduced in the next. For this is iiiv.>lved in that con- tinuity «>f attributes, which, as \\r liave seen al>ove, is the f(:>rm whicli prsimal identity takes mb sftecie temporis. Death ami rehirth. no doubt, aiv in th^nJ^elves taels of suthcient importance to mcxiify a ctiarju-tiT considenibly, but tliey c<„iuh I only work on what was :ilready present, and the nature with whicli each indiviilual starts in any lift* would ho monhled by his jietions and experioiires in tln' past. The ditferent lives of each solt; too. nmst be roalify, hnt as developing towards a.n end according u> tinal causality. For all change in tiuie, tor the individual as well a,s tor the universe, must be taken as ultimately determin» *d by rlie -nd of developing 118 a series the full content of the timrle.» ivality, with no (jlher incompleteness or imperlV-ction than tliat which is inseparable from the form of a series in. timr. Thr >t.'ps < »f su<-h a jii-ocess would surely l^'*rm more than a merely nominal unity. 66. 'r<» such a view us tliis the ohjoinui has Ijoen made that ihe rebirth of a self willniUl a mmiory of its iirevious life » The fiprti'saiou is no Joiilit Ha^jiiuitly coainuiictiir}'. But the coiitradiction iiiiiy perhaps he only a ufCftf.4ai:y coiisiNHieiice of cooniderinu lime as a whole from iiwiiie time, and th,ua he no evidence aKiiiiist the possibility of time's «TeiiUml diiap|iearAii£«. ( HUMAN IMMORTALITY 51 would be exactly equivalent to the annihilation of that self, and the creation of a new siM' of similar character. Now, it is artjuefi, I should not regard myself as immortal, if I knew that I was to be annihilated at death, even if I knew that an exactly similar individual would tlien be created. And therefore, it is urged, rebirth without m^-mory cannot be consid«'red as real immortality of the self But the objection su[)poses an impossilulity. There could not be anotlier self of exactly similar character to nie. Foi the self is m»t a Diiiff an sich, which can change indejjendriitly of its (jualities. Tln' self is a substance with attributes, and tlie substain't' has no nature eicei>t to express itself in its attril)utes. 11^ theretbre, the attributes were exactly the same, so would the substance be, and I shouM not be annihilated at all. But if there were a new self, there must be a l)reach in the conti- nuity of the attrilmtes, caused l)y the amiihilation and the eivation. Then the new .self would not he exactly similar to nic. and the parallel to n/birth tails, since with rebirth there is no interruption whatever in the continuity <»( the attributes. Thus tlie c)ntinuity of tlie attributes is always sufficient to preserve j>ersonal ie sutticient it the substance c ha UjLCd, but l)ecause it proves tiiat the substance remains iinchan L(t -d. But can we. it may be asked. suj»|>ose that a series of livi»s, unhouId sliow sudden and di-contimioiis variations, iv.n in their (.uter circum- Ntances. But, if iliey did. they might yet be part u t' on r- r* • s | »re t i v *„» lives can onlv be detenu iucd by the tru<' uatnrv <»rthe Absolut*', and can therefore afford no liinhite. Nnr. since the whole is jM- 1- fee fly in tn-vry piirt, <-;ui they afT..rd any hindrance to the devt'lopnient of the tru« iiainn' utea«-h self. F<»!- any hindrance to tlie developmiJiit of any s.-lf wmuM br a liindraiice tu the developni,ent. of the Absolute. Thus we may lay down a general pri uc iph* as to the continuity < »f ejcternal circuM»staiH!( 's frt>rn lite to iiir. In so w ftir as it is neee^^sm-y to tlir continuous f reality has been shown t<» l>e the nianifesfation of th«' Al>s.»liite in individuals, or the unity of individuals in the Absolute — in other w-rds, tlie relation of self to self Bnt, if the relations between solves are tJie only tim< l(>>s naiity, and the establishniont of those relations the only |irogress in time — how, it ma\- l)e a,sked, can progress be madi' in a seri*- of neparate lives? If wliat is ex|,»erienced before each death is fin*gotten aft:er it, how cnji any pc^reonal relation survive f Shall we not bo fVtr rvcj- limit«Hl to the amount which can be in d«*termining tlie pergonal relati* ms of the next. Tlie relatiofis which men form with one another de|tend Jiltimately on two things — «»n their characters, and on the circumstances into which they are born. Now a man's character at n-birth would be clearly influenced HUMAN IMMORTAIJTT 53 by the personal relations he hjid previously formed. With re;'ard to the causes that wouhl determine rebirth we could only know that they would jjrocced from the nature of the Absolute in so far as it was manifested in that individual at that ti ne. The personal relations he had formed immediately lueviouslv wouhi certainlv be a part of the way in wdiich the Absolute was manifesting itself just then in that !nsur«lly disproportionate to those causes of wliich we are conscious. Tln'se relations, ultimate facts as the\ ear uniea>..ned. it is only because the memories whicli woidd justify them have condensed into an instinct whicli despises justitication .' Analogous cases may be found in tlie power to diagnose a disease, or to pronounce on tlie autheii- ticitv of a picture. These powers are often gained by long pract iee. .ind \et lliejr pos>es>or> aie often unable to give any rea>ons for pei teeth cirect decision^, because^^^in this case without the I. leak of death- -the memory of pa^t e\p.riener has ceased in be memeuy, and lias become an instinct. Whether llii< 1m* so or not. we may at any rate expect that a rehition, once .-^tahlishe*!, would n«»L only determine the course of future lives, hut woidd be repriMiuced in theni. For we have s.-m tliat the only etenuil reality is related pei*son>. And if a jierwMial relation exists in time, it would I I 54 flJrTlr HUMAN IMM'ORTALITY seem ciifficiilt to account for it except by supposing thait that very relation bi*twf'<*n those ver}' persons was ultimate and eternal— though of cours.' in far greatt-r perfection than is possible in its temporal manifrstation'. And if its significance is ultimate and eternal, its appearance in tiinv must be per- sistent, or at least recurrent. For how could the individual devel<»p in time, if an nltiniate element of his nature was destined n«»t to recur in time ^ The length (.f the intervals which may elapse between two r<*currer»ces d<»es not, of course, ailmit of prediction. But we know tliat nothing ("in be K >st. And we know that pers(»nal relatit >ns cannot be transcended, kjCMise therr- is nothing higher. They must therefore be preserved as theiiisi'lvrs, and pr«srrvatioii, sub S'pecie temporis, means persistence a,nd reciirr«'nee. 59. Tlius .vcrything is not lost witli the loss of memory. Wr may g<» further. ( 'an anything l»e cventmdly lost? If the oiilv reiditv is an eternal svstem of y»ersonal relations, then any rvmt can only be mi inmU Mjuat*' way i it exjiressmg |Mirt of that .systriu. And so, in such a system of personjd relations, ail the meaning and all the value «if every evrnt would exi^t^ synthe^isrd, traiisr. inled, lait not l«Kst. Something closely analogous to this flo.s un«|uestional»ly fxist within the limits «.f a single life, and ran hv prrc«ivt'nne!etcly forg.»tt*'n. But wr do not i.ganl thnn as lost, tor wf n'<'art in mouhliiig thr rt'lati tliey art' pivs.*i\.Ml— pres« rvcd indeed far more [nrfectly than they could bt' in int'mory. For, in memory, each of them wordd be a nicrt' potentiality, except in the monimt when it was actually thought of, while. a> factors of disposition, they an- all permanently real. 60. I am not denying— it wc>uld certainly be useless to deny — thjit, te. a man wlio is living a particular lifc in time, * This mJK'lit require mtmv (inalificatit»n about every form of [K'THoiial relation eioept that form which we fouii.ii rt-.i^on lo rt,>u«i{ier absolutely a*l«*<|uule. Cp. t^Illl|). IX. HUMAN IMMORTALIW 55 the prospect that he will cease to remember that life— even by transcending memory— will always apimtr a loss and a breach of continuity. Arguments may convince him that this is a delusion, but they will not remove the feeling. Nor is it to be expected that this should b(^ otherwise. A Synthesis can only be seen to jnesfrve the true vjdue of its terms in so far as we have attaine«l to the standpoint of the Synthesis. And so a process towards pcrftction can never be jierfectly painless. F< *r the surrender (»f imperfection could only be quite painless to th«' ]»erfect individual, and till the process is completed he is not jH-rfi-cl. \ I p CHAPTER III. THE I'EliSON'ALiTV OF THE ABSOLUTE. il. The t|iir>ti«.ii uli.ihi-r ther.- i> u (lud has attracted iiuieh attpiitioii, for tlir onlifuirv clrtinition nt* (Jtxl makes the question both iiiiiMHtaiit ami tloubtfiil. But, aee«inliii^^ to Hegel's UMiof tlir wold (iod, it rraso to be either duubtful or inijMjrtant. For hi" defiin-^ (lod a> tht- AUsohite Ri "ahty, whatever that reality luav turn otit U* lie. To ciiieRtioii tin.' existeiicM' of sueh a Ci(,mI as this is imjiossilile. For to tinny it wouhl mean the denial that- tlier*' was any irality at a,ll. This w<.»uld hr eetitni- dictory, for what, in that case, would ha[)[H'n to thr denial itself? But till* saint' r<»n> which make th»' «xist«'iirc of such a (jod ijiiitr n-rtaiii inakr it also quite trivial. For it tells us nothing' rxerpt tliat thrn- is Munr naliiy soinrwhcn'. We must kiH»w ef what naiuiv that rralitv is, if our ron\ictioii of its rxi^r.-iirM; is til have auv inti-rest, either tVir theon' or practiet,'. Thus I le'^'t'l's tnat uM'iit of M«>d's < xist^ner and naiuicwill proeeerl dith'ri'ntly from that which is i^'tiirraily t'm|)li'y«'d. Tlic comuHiu j)lan i> ti> iisr the wonl to tMimotr certain dertiiite attributes, and then to enquire if a beintr answering to this docriiitioii rcjdlv exist>. But 1 lemd defines (lod to mean what- i •■■■ O ever really exists, and thi'U the important < juestion is to determine tlic natur'e ot this reality, instead of " Is there a Ci«:i I" we must a>k " W'liat is (lodV nature f " In ordinary usa<(e, and in the usat(e also of many philo- soplii-rs, the Wiinl ( tiwl connotes, am<»ni( other attributes, |iersonality. And on tlie personality of God depend most of THE FERSOXALITV OF THE ABSOLUTE 57 the other attributes commonly ascribed to him. An imptjrsoual being coidd be omnipotent, indeed, and could * work for righteousness." It could also be rational, in the sense that its nature was such as to present an harmonious and coherent whole to the reason * .f tlie observer. But an imi)ersonal being could not be wise or goml. It couh 1 not love men. Nor could the em«.tions i)f ac(piie>eence and admiration with which men might regard it be sutHciently like the em(»tions of one man t.»wards anothi'r to merit the name of love. Certainly they would be vciv ditterent emotions trom thi)se with whicli the l)elievers in Ik a personal ( iod iei;ard him. FiU- the (.rdinary concej)ti.)n of (iod, then, tlie attribute i)f personality seems of paramount im|)ortanee. And so. wlii-n we are considering Fb/gefs system, the .jue-tiiju ** Doi-sliod exist ^ may be fairly turned into the <|Uestion 'Is (iod a |)erson ? " UiH|Uesti.»nably Hegel regar.ls (iod as iiiHnite, as a unity, as spirit, as making fV>r n-ason and riyhteouMies^. If we add persi>nality t«. these (pialities we have the ordinary conception of (iod. On tlie other hand, if we d.ny the jMrsonaiity, we get the con.e|>tion i>f a being to whom, in ..rdinary languagi-. the name of ( !i.d would not be jqiplied. But what exactly is meant l>y pirs.Miality ! I may know, though it is ditficult to define, what 1 mean when i say that I am a p.-rson. lint it is clear tliat the nature of an inhnite and pertect l)eing mu>t l)e very ditlVrent tVi>m i'»i«»'' '^'»*I within what limits mu>t this ditf.rence 1m- confined, if that infinite aiul perfect beini^' is to be called a jMr>on i The characteristic which det.rmines personality seems, on the wlioli', to be generally |)lacid in tlie * T'— the synthetic unity of ai)perception. Whrn a being distinguislii's itself from its Jontent— when, in other wonls, it finds in that content an element which is nevr absiiit, tliough nev.-r present m is.,latu>n, which is alway- the same, and wIk.sc presence determmes the content to be 'the n>ntent of that i.artieuiar being, then we call that benig pci>onal. 1 kuiiw that I can say ' I am." I know that a ( ^oll.-e canuiit say " 1 am." If we conceive that it is consistent with God's natuiv to >ay "I am." we shall hold that (iod is a person, but not iiiherwise. t#0' THE PEIiSONALITY OF THE ABSOLUTE Is Hegers (icmI a person ? The wonl GcmI is so closely coiiiiectefl in oiiiiiuiry iisag*' with }MTsr of liiasciiline pronouns would prejiidt^r thr .jinstiun of the ixn-sonality .>f the Absolute III thf at!irniati\* % wlnU • the more general neuter pronouns do not prejudge it so O'luch in tlio nc^jttivr. Mon-ov«T the view which I shall endea\-onr to defend is that the Absolute, as *l<*monsiraton to think that I le-el held it "^ possible f;.r spirit to rxi>i. rxe, .pt in the f^mn of persons, while th.-rr is every reason ti» think that he regard<«d persons as the highest foriri of spirit '. It does ni.t follow from this, however, that the Absolute is a person. It might b( sai.l of ji ( 'ollege, with as nnich truth as it has beer, said of the Al»solute. that it is a unity, that it is a unity of spirit, and that none of that spirit exists .-xcept as F^^*"^* »^'»''*'- Y«'t _th«. Collegi. .s not a person. It is a unity of jM-rsnns. but It is n..t a person itselfl And, in the same way, it is possible that the Absolutt* may be a iniit.y of persons, without 'being a person. Of course the Abxilute is a far more |)erfect unity than a ( Villege. The In ;uing of this on the cpiestion of its. personality will be iliseussed later on-. » Cp. Chap. n. N4'CtiiiB8 79—83. THE PERSOXAIJTV OF THE ABSOLUTE .59 I believe that Hegel did not himself regard the Absolute as personal. It seems clear from the Philosophy (»f Religi.m that the truth of God's nature, according to Hegel, is to be found in the Kingdom of the Holy (;h.»st (which must be distinguished from the i.lea of the Hr»ly Ghost in the Kingdom ot the Father). And the Kingd.an of the Holv Ghost apj.ears to hv not a person but a ((.mmunity. But Hegel's own opinion on this subject wdi be discussed more eonveni«'ntly in a later chapter'. In this chapter I wi>h to consid.r, liot 1 feLrds own opini(.ns on the personality of the Al»s..lute, luit th.- c«»nclusions on the subject which ought logically to be deduced fn.m his conception of the Absolute as (leteiijiined in the Logic. 64. What light d indi\ idiials. And we saw that the only way in which w<' couhl imagine a unity to Iw for ea. h of its individuals was tor each of those individuals to be conscious of the unity-. The unity is for each of the individuals. Are we also entitled to say that each of the individuals is for the unitv? Such a relation inde.-d, would not justify us in conchnlinir that the Aljsolute was a person, anv more than the relation alreadv established justified us, by itself, in (on.luding that the individuals in the Alisolute were persojis. We do not know, and caniKit imagine, any way in which -1 can he for //, except by lis ( <»nsc},,usn< ^s of A. I>iif other ways may e.xist, and so, in proving iJiat *4 must lie for Ji, we d<» not actu;dly prove that // must l)e <<»nscious. Such a r«'sidt. however, woulcl render the consciousness on. I shall endeavuui- to >hHvv further on that the L(igic cannot by itmU fm-hid ns to think of the Absolute as' a person. In tlie first pljice. thiTe is no n.-crsMtv of thonirht which foiiiiM'ls US to regard the individuals as existing foi- the unity. ^^* ' ^^"'•'"•* drivrii to ivgiird the unity as e-xisting for the in- dividuads iMrau,,. w.- toimd it n. r. ssarv tliat tlie luiitv shoidd exist ill i-dvh in.lividual. Xow in th.* <.rdiiiaiT srii>r of iiirlusion It was rltarly ini|io>r of being f«ir each of ihi-m. It is as iirr, -.siry, no iloul.t, lo n-ganl tli.* individuals as Ixina in the unity, as to regaid tlir unity a> Ixin;^ in eaeh ot the individuals. But tlnri th.-n* is no dithiMiliy in n-garding the individuals as Ining in the unity in th.- ordinary sens.- of inclusion. So fir fnun this b.-ing ditHctdt. it is part of th.- definition of a unity of individuals tliut it includos th.-m. And thcrcf..rc wc hav.- no right to say that th.- iiidivir in wliirli wr h.'Id il t.» 1m' necessary that the unity sliould be for thr in. F..r thr wholr signihrancr oV one h.ing f.r thr othrr was that thrrr w.is s..in.' dilfrrrnce betwrrii ihrnt. If then- was no ditfnvncr, ihf mi.' w«>uld be tile other, and the uhol.' conception, as we havt ' gi.t it here, of «»' * being /o/- the rather would colkiise. All tile meaning We gave t,. thr rxprrsMM,, that .1 wa> for //was that thr contmt of the one was also the C(.ntent of the other. Jf A and Ji are diiereiit, this means sometliing. But i( A and B are identiad THE PERSON .ILITY OF THE ARSOLUTE then it would only mean that a thing'.s content wa.s its content — which is not a new conception, but a useless tautoloL;y. Let us a})i>ly this. Thi' "'dty ami the individuals are identical — the unity has no nature except to be th<' individual**, and the individuals have no nature exce|»t to l»e the unity. This H» 'gel demonstrates in the category of Tele«»logy. But the unity is something ditferent from each of the individiuds, and, therefore, if the content of the unity is f.uud in each « if the imlividuajs, there is a meaning in saying that it is for rach of the individuals. On tlir ..thrr hand, thr unity is not fliflferent from all the individuals tiigether (It is. of course, not e<|uivalent to a mere sum or aggregate of the individuals, because it is their real unity. But then thry .xi-^f as a real unity, and not as a mere sum (»r aggregate, so that the unity is identical with the individuals as thev really an*.) If there- fore the content <»f the unity is identical with that of the individuals, this merely means that the content is i the single unity, we have, it may be said, reducrd the unity to a <-om|»arative unreality. All the n'ality is transferncl to thr .separate individuals, who are each centres for which all realitv exists, and the unity falls back into tlie positir»n of a men- aggir^^Mtr, or, at thr most, of a mechanically drtrrmirird wholr. If this w. rr the case, wr should certainly have L'onr wronUT. Hegtd has sliown in the ratrgorirs of Teleology and liitr that tlir unity must br as na! as thr imlividuals. And, so far fmm dropping this in tlir final cat«gorirs <.f thr Logic wr saw in the last chapter that the reason why we prrssr<| on to thr catrgory of Cognition was that in no otlirr way couM the full reality of the unity be made e«impatible with the full reality of the individuals. If, therefore, the denial that the individuals existed for the unity, subordinated the unity to the individuals, and involved 62 THE PERSONALITY OF THE A,B»OLiTTE an atomistic view, the p<»siii«>ii wouUi have to ho changed ;80iiiehi)w. But I l)eli«'v.* that it d*M*8 nothintr of* th«* sort, and that, on the contrary, it is tlir objection to it wliioh implies an ati»nii.stic theory, and is then^f^ire invalid. A system of imiiviihials of which each is conseil as niuch united as tliry ar.- >»'j)arated. For -1 can onlv be c<»nscioUN .if B in so far as thcv ar» ; united, and it is only, in such a system, by being con -rim is of B that A is an individual, or, indeed, exists at all. Common sense, hijwevrr, <"lings by prt'tiTcncr to the categories of Kssence, and i« conserjuently atomisfie. To common si'n>c, thcr<*f more tli*a>.ughly diticnntiatcd than it is united. But the dialectic ha-, proved tills t<» Ijc a mistake. It has .*ihown that in such a svstem the uiiitv is as real as the ditferentiation, and it is only to an obj.ctor wh«» ignores this that a sv^t.-rii bound togetli.-r bv the mutual kuowledire of it> p.iit^ call 1h* accused i,f at«»iuism. To tliiiik that the unity of tlic sN-tcm would be greater if le individuals w.-iv tor that unitv is a mistake. It is true at each individual is also, in one si*nse of tin* woni, a unit v. and that the unity of tlu' syst.-m is for each individual. But tlic s.iise iit which an individual, wliich gets all diHereiitiation from without, is ii unitv, is entin-lv different tVom the unitv of the >y>teiu. This ha- nothing oulsiih- to whicli it can be related, and it gits all its diifen-ntiations troiu within — fn tm the individual- cmposing it. Such a difference in the nature of the two unities |h events us from arguing that they ought to unifv their tlifTercntiaiions in tin- same wav. Indeed, if thi> sy>t. m unifie«I it- int. inal diflerentiations in the same wa\ thiit tht- indivichial unifies its e\tern.il differentiations ™^l)y having them /o/- it-. ■If— -it s.-nns dithcult to (h'uy that it would be an individual too, .And if it was an individual, it would stand side by >idc with the other in- dividuals, and coulson to den'/ })ers«uiality to the Absolute. To suppose that it did would be tt> confound unjustifial>ly the category of [)ure thought, which Hegel calls Cognition, with the concrete fact after which it is named. To avoi«l such confusion altogether is very difhctdt. Hegel himself did not jdways succeed in doing .so — for examj)le in the category of Chemism, and in tlie details of the Subjectiv.> X<»tion and of Life. And this constitutes the chief objection to his practice of naming categories after tin; conciv t.- subject-matter which b<'st ilbist rates them. Such a jjlan is no doid)t very convenient for an author wliose j)enetration h.ul discovered many more stages of thought than could be (lescril>eF THE ABSOI^UTE found by aiialysis in a pirticular cmi.irical fact. By giving such a name to the* <-!ii*'g<.ry, the dialectic assnnies that the answer to the .jt,i.esti..i. is in the affirmative, hnt does not prove it Should the a^^timiition he mistaken th.- .mly injury done to the dialectic- itsrlf will he that tli.- eatrgcry has acquired an inapitrnj.riat.* nain.-, which may V>e mislt-adinj^. But if. m the application of th«- dialectic wc assume that such a eate|(ory is always tnie of the jiart of ex|*erienr.' after which it is named, we niav go hopelessly wron^. In'thecase Wfon- us, it is clear, as I have endc'avoure(Uo show aliovr. that, arrnnlinff to Heiiefs ait('*jin-;i uf Co^fjmtton, nothing: can ( »gnizi' unless it ha,s something ..otside itself to be cognize4 outside itself, should ciguiz*,,,' any- thing. But it hv no means fVillows fi<»m this that we can denv eognition or ennsciousness t< ► that unity. F^r such a step would imply that I iegi-l's category of ( 'ognitinn was the esaential characteristic of what^ is ordinarily calle.l thought, and. whether this is true oi- tjike, it is cn-tainiy not proved. All the thought, indeed, of wliich we jire immediately conscious is of this sort IV»r we know no thought directly but our own, an«l w.- are tinite heiiigs. But sup|io.sing tliat Ijotze was right in ajiserting that an all-embracing reality c(.uld In- (N.nseious of itself. thi»n we slioidd have to admit tliat it was not an essential charactc-ristic of thought to he for tlie think«'r in the way in which the unitv is fi»r tire individual — ami in which the imlividual is not tor the uniiy--in liegn why the development of its personal ccmsciousness can take place only througli th<' infiuences of the cosmic whole which th»* tinite bring itself is not, that is. through stimulation coming from the N on -Ego. not liecause it needs the contnist with something (tlien in order to have self-existence, but be<*ausc in this res|»ect, as in every other, it «i(»es not contain in itself the c«»nditions of its existence. We do not find this limitation in the being of the Infinite; hi-nce for it alone is there fKissible a self-existence, which needs neither to be initiati-d n«)r to Ix* contimiously developed by something not itself but which maintains itself within itself with sijontaneous action that is eternal and had no beginning. Perfect Personality is in GckI only; to all finite min«ls ' op. r,l. lik IX. Chap. IV (lii. .j(Xi, traiiH. ii. r.70). M'T. * iiimiiMiH4- ■--- 66 TIIK PKIWOKAIJTY OF THE I'BWiLUTE there ifl allotted but a 'pale copy thereof; the finiteness of the finite m not a producing condition of this Personality, but a limit and a hindrance of its developint-nt'." 'ii. Taking the first of these contentions we must remark that the term Non-Ego is rather ambiguous, when the relation of an Ego U3 a Non-Ego is spoken of. It may unan something that is not jui Km at all. or it may only mean something that i« not the Ego which forms the oth.r term of the relation. In thiii sense two Egos inij^ht t-ju-h he the other's N«>n-Egn. It 18 io this wider mnm that we must take it if we are to consider any relation which on Hegelian principles can bf regarded as esMOiial U* the Ego. For Hegel certainly thinks that nothing is real but spirit, and we saw reason in the last chapter to believe that all spirit must be token as selves, it follf,»ws that no Ego could come into relation with anything but another Ego. which would, as far m that relation went, k^ the Non-Ego of the first. We may. m > doubt, unreservedly accept Lotzr's statement that "no being in the nature of which self-existence wais not given as |)rin»ary and untlerived eould be endowed with self- h«id by any mechanism of lavo!irinj( circumsian.rs liowever wonderful"." This complet«'ly harnitiiiises with the e..nclusi.>n reai:hed in the last .hapter. that it was impracticable to regard a self as anything but a fundamental dit!"erentiatioii of the Absolute. But the .juestion still remains whether it is not an ess-ential part of the eternal, primary and umlerived nature of eiMih self that it should be rehited to some reality .nitside it. Litze further remarks thai the ' Kgo and N.m-Ego cannot 'be two notions of which each owes its whole content only to its contrast with the <»ther; if this wei-.- so they would both remain without content.... Hence ever}- being which is destinml to take the jmrt of the Ego when the contrast lias arisen must have the ground of its determination in that nature which it had |fr«fioitf to the contrast'" and, therefore, indeiM;ndeiit of the contrast. 1 op, tit Bk IX. Clmp. IV «'». faiiH. ii. *l> « op. fit, Bk IX. Chap, iv li.i .".72. trails, ii. «iS()). > t,p. cit. Bk IX. Clmi.. IV till. 570. tnma. ii. 678>. THE PERSONAUrV < »F THE ABSOLUTE 67 Now it is «|uite trtn» that if we tried to explain the Ego exchisivebf from the reality outside to which it is in relation, we sh«»ul(l have fallen into a vici<»ns circle, since tliat reality could only be explained with reference to the Ego. But it by no means follows tn»m tlie impossibility of e.\|)laining the isolated Ego by the isolated Non-Ego, that the Ego can be explained without its Niin-Ego, or is conceivable without it. There is a third alternative— that the isi.lated Kgo cann. >t be explained at all, being an uiueal abstraction w hich shows its unreality by its inexi)licability, and that Ego and Non-Ego can only be explained when they are taken together as mutually explaining each ntli.r. The idea i)f th*- Kgo is certainly mm-e than the mere fact that it is ivlat.-.l to the Non-Kj.^"- ^>"^ *^^'^ does not prevent the relation t«> the Non-Kgo beini( essential to the nature of thv* Kgo. If. to take a parallel case, we tried to explain th*- idea of a jMirent merely in terms of the idea of a chihi, w.- should hav.' fallen into a vieinus circle, since we sh«»uld find that the idra of a ehild could not \w explained except in relation to thr idea of a jiarent. But it wtmld not be correct to argue from this that a jiarent coidd exist, or be conceived, without a child. They are certainly not "two notiiHis of which orii' owts its whole content to its contrast with the ofhrr,*' but that dors n.»t prevmt each i>f them from lieing meaningless without the other. 70. Tlv Kgo, therefore, would not necessarily become inexplicable, even if it could n«»t be conceived except in relation to th.- Non-Kgo. < 'an it be conceived othei-wi.se ? Liotz<' answers this question in the artirniativc, so far as the Infimle Being is concerned. It, h** says, 'dues not neen from the outside. For as there is no outside, the oidy other alternative would be ' ipp. cit. Bk IX. Chap, iv (iii. .575. traoH. ii. M^). 5—2 THE PEIWIS'ALITY OF THE ABSOLUTE that the Abwilute— tliat is, all reality— shoiild he non-existent. But does it exist as a person ? :Lc>tee says that " every feeling of pleasure or dislike, every kind of self-enjoym.nt ( SelbHtgeiuiss) does in our view contain the primary Imsis of personality, that irnmediate self-existence which all later developnieiits of self-consciousneas may indeed, make plainer to thought by eontrasts and comiiarisons, thus also intensifying its value, but which is nt.t in the first place prwluced by them'/* And we may so far agree with this, as to admit that personality consists in saying *' I," n*it in saying '•Smith/' "table" or any other names which may be applied to the Non-Ego. But the i|uestioii remains whether it is possible for the Absolute to say " I," since it can name iici Smith, and no talile. distinct from itself Th** consciousness of the Non- Ego is not personality. But is it not an esst^ntial condition of perwMiality ? Each of us is a finite |»erson. And each of us finds that, for him, thr (•.>nsciousn«'ss of the Non-Eg<» is an essential condition of his jMjrsonality. Each of us infers that he is surrourideil by various other tinitr jiersons. And nt each of them we have rejistm to inf^T that a eonsciousness of some Non-Ego is essential to liis personality. 8ueh a cnscioiisness the Absnlutf eaniiHt poss< ss F«»r there is ncthing outsirle it, from which it ean distinguish itself it is true that the Absolute is liy no means a blank unity. It is ilitlerentiated, ami the diHiivntiations are as essential as the unity. If it were* merely its own aspect of unity, then it would havr something to distinguish itself fmrn— namely its ditfrieiitiations. But then the Absolute is not merely the as I tee t of* unit V. If it were, it would not be all rejdity in its true and ultimate torni. It would only be one as[>ect <>( that realitv— an abstniction, and, therefore, taken bv itself, talse. This is not what Hegel aiui Lol/.r mean by the Al>solute. The Absolute is tile fiill realitv™-the diHt-rentiated unity, or the unifi.^ .l.flVr.ut.at...„s. An.l .h.-rc i. n..,lunK whic-1, is in any way outside this, or which cjiu in an\ way be disiingui>hed from this. » op. eit. Bk IX. Chip, iv fiii. r,7l, tiMi.s. u. *]!'.*}. THE PERSONALITY OF THE ABSOLUTE 69 It is true, again, that the Absolute is something very different from any one of its differentiations, or from the sum, or from the mechanical aggregate, of all its differentiations. But this will not provide the Absolute with anything different from itself. For the differentiations do not exist as isolated, and do not exist as a sum. or as a mechanical aggregate. They only exist as they are unitied in the Absolute. Ami, therefore, as they really exist, they have no txistence distinguishable from the Absolute. 71. The Aksolute, then, ha> not a characteristic which is aiJmitted to be essential to all finite personality, which is all the personalitv of which we have any exjierieiice. Is this character- istic es.sential to personality, or only to finite personality ? We know of no jwrsonalitx without a Non-Eg«). Nor can we imagine what such a jiersonality would be like. For we certaiidy can never .say * I " without raising the idea of the Non-Ego, and so we can never form any idea of the way in which th«- Alisnlute w»»uld any "I." We cannot, indeed, .say with complete certainty that it could not be ersonal. But this is the barest and Uiost worthless abstraction of p<>ssil)ility. To say that some- thing which is utti/riy unimaginable may be true, because .some unimaginable way may exist of bringing it about, is, hy itself, merely trivial. On the same princijilc we could say that the Absolute might l)e scarlet. It is true that we c in some quite un- imaginable way, becomes of real value. 72. Before considering, however, what pisitive arguments 70 THE PERSONALITY OF THE AESOLUTE tbere may be for the perscmality of the Absolute, we must oote tlimt they will all liave ih^ (li«Ml vantage that the pei-soiiality which they snpiK»rt is of a kind which is lieyonci both our ex- perience aii.1 our imagination. In this respect a criticism which Lfitze makes recoils on himselC He complains that those who deny the personality of the Absohite seimrate spirit from person- ality in an uiyiistifiable iminner, since tht-y are never sepamtecl in our exprience*. To this we may reply that one the*»ry, at least, which denies piTsonjility u* the Absolute, does not do this. For it m iiiiits that all spirit"is differentiated into persons, but denies that the unity of peiMiiis need itself be |>ersonal. And experi*'r«c«' givt-s us exaiiipl**s of this in every body corporate. On the other hand iMm hini>rlf. when he s}Miaks r.f a persi^al Absolut!', ei.mmits the vry lUiilt which he di*precates. For personality without a Non-Ego is just a> alien to our rxperience as spirit without p€rs4:m:ilit\. A nmehisi.m is not, of coui-sr, pr«»ved to be folse, because neither our knowledge noi- our imagination enables us to se.- hf>'r it can be true. But what- ever amount ctf doubt is thrown on a conclusion by such an inability i >n our j»art„ kiloiigs, in this controv.a-sy. not to the denial of the jiersonality of tlir Absolute, but ti„» its attirniatiou.. 73. To sup|ileiuent his arguments for the {...ssibility of the personality <»f the Absolut.-. I.otz<- 'iiv.s, as w.- }ia\.' N,.rn, two positive arguments to provi- that thr |.ersonalily is real. The first is that we are iniuit*diat«-ly «•» nain that the ni»)st perfect nnist bo real. Th«' v. •.•..! id is that the p<»ints in which the Absolute ditlers from a finite being are pints which make it more trulv iMTsonal than anv finite being can b<». It is only as sugg.*stiit«r th*- imtu«t of all conceivable things should not be. Many other attempts may hr made to exhibit the internal necessity of this cimvictioii aslogieally demonstrable ; but all «»f th»in must fail." Nt,r vmi we. he continues, * prove from any genend logical truth our right to a.scribi* to that whicli has such worth its claim to reality; on the eoiitrarv, the certainty of this elaini belongs to those inner ex|>erienees to which, as to the given object of its labour, the mediating, inferring, and hmiting activity of c«)gnition wU-vsK 74 If we tako this stri<-tly. wr can merely note the fact that bitze had this imiinMliatr .•rrtainly a-s a liiographical incident of more or h'>s interest. Nothing that he has .said (mn Im' of any forco in determining the opinu.n t.f others. If A hiLs this • * r * ..♦ .;»^ti' K.. lu.li««vt's that tho ifreatest must be iiTrinn*(iiate certainty, ne neiievtN inat m" |,i«^ «•»-'* ^ nal. liut he belicvrs it, n<»t because Uiize has this cerUinty, or beaiuse h.- Inr.isrlf ought t.» have it, ln.t because he hjis it. Thi< immeiliate certainty can neither Vm' couHrmcd nor shaken by any external considerations. For if it w.^re affected by reaiHons, it would Ik- a logical conclusion, which is just what it is not. But if, on the other hand, H has not g..t this immeiliate certamty-aml it is In yor.d doubt that many jM^ople have not got it— then that concludes the controversy so far as he is concerned. We must not argue that hi* is wrong not to have it, l>ecause it is a reiisoiiable lx'li«»f. (»r Imaius^j m«>st i M,.-rnro,mm, Bk IX. Chap, iv (iii. 561, tram. ii. »17<»|. 72 TME PERSONALITY OF THE ABSOLUTE THE PERSONALITY OF THE ARSOLUTE IMJople have it, or because the people who have it are cleverer or better than those who do not. Whether these statements are true or not, they are completely irrelevant. For, if they were relevant, then the conclusion would not rest on the fact that it is believed, but on the fact that it ought to be believed— that is, that there are reasons why we should believe it Now th*' whole contention was that it was not believed for reasons. When a man asserts that he has an immediate certainty of a truth, he doubtless deprives other people of the right to argue with him. But he also—though this he sometimes forgets — deprives himself of the right to argue with other pople. Even the stutemunt of his imnu'diuto certainty can only be justifi*'d if it is put forward as a reason for declining controversy, or as a contribution to psycholotjical statistics, or to his own biography. To volunteer it as a contribution to the study of the Hubject to which thi' <«rtainty refers is — in at least one sense of the word — im[„iertinent. Nothing can be more innMirtanl to me, in resjiect of any bninch of knowledge, tliaii my own immediiite certiiinties about it. Nothing can be less inifMirtant than the immediate certainties of other people. 75. But if thi' itssertion that the most perfect must be real tcKik up a less lofty jiosition, and presented itself as a pro|M>sition which reason directed us to believe, what could then Im' saiti of it ? If it is put forwanl as the basis on which to found II system of metaphysies. it must clearly, I think, be coiideumed ikH wr>rthli»s.H. The most that couhl b<' ssiid against tlie di'iiial of it would be that, if that denial was true, the world would he a wicked and inisenible place. And what right have we to take this iis a reduciio ad absHrdum ? How do we know that the world is not a wicked and miserable place? It is all very well for our aspirations after virtue and happiness to say that they nuist live. But what if the universe replies that it does not see the necessity ? It can scarcely be denied that it has the fMiwer to act on its convietions. 76. The question takes a ver\' diffen»nt form, however, if we regard an idealist system of metaphysics as being already demonstnited. For if the universe is proved to be rational, and we can liirther prove that it could not be rational unless 4l h a certain proposition be true, it will, of course, be i)erfectly logical to conclude that the proposition must be true. Now Hegel unquestionably holds the Absolute to be an harmonious whole. And we saw reason to believe, in the last (.'hapter, that the lundamental ditlcTentiations of the Absolute were all persons, and that the whole nature of the Abs«>lute isadeciuately expressed in the conscious relations between persons. If, therefore, it can be proved that the conseiousness of the personality of the Absolute is essential to harmonious conscious relations between the i>ers< ms who comj)i.se it, we should have a goixi ground for lielieving in the personality of the Al)solute'. Now sin anrl misery are incomi)atil>le with the harmony of conscious beings. If they are to l,e harmoni.ms they nmst be virtuous and hai)py--or else in some higher state which tran- scends and includes virtue and hai>|)iness. Anrse essential to the virtue and happiness of finite persons ^ It would not suttiei* if it were shown to be essentiiU f^^r the virtu.- and ha,.,)iness of ev.ry human being who is now living, ..r who has lived since the beginmng of history. For what must be sh« »wn is that, without the belief in a personal Absolute, finite jiersons could not be [lerfectly virtuous an.l hapi^y. An' far as yet from jierfectifin. And so we contunially make demands on reality which are so f^u from being conditions of perfe(!t and harmonious existence, that, if iealise so in many cases is one of the common -places I If the con«:iou«ne«! of the pewonality were ueceswry, the periionality would be necesnary. Un a iniitaken l»eUef in the perwoahty would be an intellectual error, iocompatible with hamiony. ■JmilFiiK. nil im»i, ■III I ■■■■■■■JlyBii. 1 >yyiail> 74 THl PERSONALITY OF THE ABSOLUTE THE PERSONALITY OF THE ABSOLUTE 75 of moralists. Now, even if the belief in the pereooality of the Absohite was invariably rw|uisite, as far m our expc^rience reached, to happiness or virtii«, how can we tell that this is not one of those eases ? How cmn we trll that wiser men would not find greater happiness elsewhere, that better men would not rise without its aid to loftier virtue ^ We may not be able to say positively that they w(»uld, but that is not suttieieut. If we luv to he able to ded,uce. in this way, the p€!rsf»nality of the Absolute, we must be able to say |;M)sitively that they would not. 77. It is suiHTfiiuMis t<» p< mit out, moreover, that mankind has by no mfans Ijeen uiiamniuus in demanding a prrsmiul (Jod. Neithsen t i : d chanic terist ic t >f a ■p€!rfect universe, and therefore, on. the basis of Hegel's idealism, might be aecepted as tnie. But, so far Its I know, no attempt has been made to do this. And it is not i asy to <, . nn what ground such a demonstration could be hmmi i }f course, if tlu- Alisolute 'rere personal, no finite being could be perfect without perceiving it, since other- wise the limitation of his knowledge, or its erroneous chanicter. would destroy the harmony of his nature. But, if the Absolute were not personal, I can conceive nothing in tlie recognition of that fact which need mar the harmony of the person who recognizes it. He will know tlie other finite persons in the univers«\ He will feel that his relations with them are con- sistent with his own deepest and most funwers with whicli it did not enil«»w itstlf. and according to laws which it did not establish— that is, it works by means of a mental organization which is realise»l not only in it, but also in innuni»-nible similar beings. Hence in reflecting on self it may easily seem to it as though there were in itself stune obscure and unknown substance— something which is in the Kgo though it is not the Ego itself, and to which, as to its subject, the whole personal develo|>ment is attached. And hence there arise the (piestions— never to be quite silenced— What are we our- selves? What is our soul ? What is our self— that obscure beiii«,s incomi)rehensible t(» ourselves, that stirs in our feelings and°our pjissions, and never rises into complete self-con- sci, Kisness { The fact that these questions am arise shows how far personality is from being develo|)e«l in us to the extent which its notion admits and retpiires. It can be perfect only in the Infinite Being which, in surveying all its conditions or actions, never finds any content of that which it suffers, or any law of its working, the meaning and origin of which are not transparently plain to it, and capable of being explained by reference to its own nature. Further the position of the finite 76 THE PERSO.VALITY OF THK AB8OL0TK THE PERSONALITY OF THE ABSOLUTE 77 mind, which attaches it as a constituent of the whole to some definite jilace in the cosmic order, requires that its inner life should he iiwiikened by successive stimuli from without, and that its cou.r8e' should procee!* its nature at any monieiit, and much less ot the unity of its devrlo^mieiit in time. ...In |)oint of fact we have little ground tur speaking of the persi »nality of finite lieings; it is an ideal, which, like all that is ideal, belongs unconditionally '»nly to the Infinite, but like all that is gcKMl apiM?rtains to us only conditionally and hence imp*!rfe€tly'." 80. It tiiMV be freely admitt«Ml that a jwrfect ]>ersoimlity is a self-detenniiird whole, not hanipeied find thwarted troiii the outside, and that the Abs(»liite is mk-Ii a whole. It must also be granted thiit every finite self is in n/lation to, and determined by, its surr.tuutlings. But it do.s not follow fn»ni these ad- missions, either that the finite person is not a perfect realisation of |>€rsonality, or that the Al)snlute is a person at all. For determinati«>n from outside is (:.»ni[>atible with conii»lete self- determination, anolute which has no external relations. There is, I think, n«»tliing but a finite person which has no completely internal relations. But we may perhaps make the point clearer l)y comparing the nature of a stiite with that of a citizen (taking him men-ly as a citizen, not in any of his (»ther asj>ects). The state and the citizen are equally unities. They are equally dei)en.lent on nniltiplicity. But the state has a multifilicity within itself. an the belief that units can be added together without altering them. If atomism realised that any sort «>f combination must affijct internally the combiiieii units, it wouki be IVirced to rqect the univerae as utterly as it rejects the^self.) 81. Thero is no doubt to which of these two sjieeies of unities the tinite person hAi »ngs. His existence obviously depends on his external relations. Indeed, as wjis said ahmt^ there is no other example, except the tinit« soli; which conipletely realises this tyi>e. But it does not follow that the finite person is, therefV»re, inipertV'ct as a j)erson. A i>erfc'Ct person must, certainly, be self-deterinined. But then there is nothin<; to prevent the tinite person trom being self-deter- mineii . Hcg^sl has shown in the Logic, when treating o\ Quality, that determination by another involves detirminatioii by self But th*' srlf-determination which is consid«MV(i in such an early stage of the dialectic, is, of course, a comparatively abstract and unreal i^lion. If a jM-rson is to be considtTed as selt- determined, a fiiller and deeiier seH-deterniination must be meant. It is characteristic of a person that he has an ideal, to which his actual existence may or may not conl^ >rm. There would be no iiM-aning in sayin^^ that a stone ought to have a diffiTent shapi* from that which it actually has— unless we \vnv coiisitlering some external relation which the stone bore to conscious beings. It has no ideerf;M-tion of iiersonality. But, even if it w.n- eH.setttt(d to a perfect prrson to have nothing outside him, it w«iuld not follow that to be the whole of n»ality was .vipcient t«» constitute a p«;rfect iierson, or even to constitute a prison at all. Personality, I^itze has told us. consists in seU-enjoymmt, in "diivci sense of self," and. even if we admit his eonteiition that imly the Infinite could have this fierfectly, it does n<»t f^ >llow that the Infinite has it at all. (I am using Infinite here in the more onlinary sense of the word. By Hegel s usai^f a '* finite " pi-rson who was not the whole reality but was c7SI). THE PERSONALITY OF THE ABSOLUTE SI 84. Thus Lotze's argument has two defects. He has not shown that the fin i rude of finite persons makes them imperfect, and he has not shown that the f>erfect self-determination of the Absolute is the self-determination of a j»erson. In leaving the consideration of Lotze's treatment of the subject, it is to be noticed that our objections to it do not challenge Lotze's right to consider the Absolute as |>€»rsonal. For he regarded the Absolute as not «'xhausted bv its manifestations, and those manifestations as t<» a errtain oxtent, from an ethiciil jwint of view, outside the Absolute. And this obviously introduces fresh ronsiJt'rations. We have only dealt with those of his arguments \\*v the jjeixoiiality of the Absolute which are also applicable to the Absolute as Hegel has conceivetl it. 85. Thesr criticisms of Lotze may suggest to us a more direct and indrpendent argument. Th*' finite person is de- pendent, for tho ••Icnit-nt i>\' ditfon'ntiatiou and multiplicity, on its rrl.itiohs with outside naiity. And, while that t'lrnM*nt is, in one sense, inside the person, in another sense it is outside him. For the persr»n distint^uishes himself from evtry element of his content. There is im part of that content wliich he cannot make into an object, and so jiut over against liimself as the subject. There must, therefore. l)e some element in the |»erson other than the differentiation or mult iplieity— some element which is n<.i ohly inside the person in the sense in which the multiplicity is inside, l>ut which is also inside in the sense in which the multiplicity is outside. For unle.ss somethini^^ remains inside, in this V, ii-e. it would be im|>ossibl< ' t<» .siy that anything was outside. This element can have no dit!'erentiation or multi- plicity in it. For all multiiilieity belongs to the content which can be distinguish. 'd tVom the srlf, and which can th<-refore be .said, in this sen^r, to fall «»ut>ide th«- jierson. It follows that the element in 9sibk' for the whole itself to have, is an atomistic fallacy. For it tacitly assumes that a complex whole is built up out of its elemeots, and that those- clemciits could exist, or at any rate be imiigiiied. on is <»bviously (lej)endent on the e\i-triHT of (.iitsidc reality. And the only other element in the |»erson — tlie indivisil>le unity to which the element of the not-self stainls in relation — carniot exist except, as combined with the element of tlie nt»t-self. It follows, certainly, that an isolated self is inipossilile. But. tliis wiis not denied, nor is it incompatible with any < »f tli*- conclusions which we have pre- viously reached. We toiind r«-aNnn. ind«.*ed, in the la.st chapter, to consider finite' selves as t\indamentally n-al. |]nt. they were not real as i.solated , or as e x t ernal ly con n . .'.„■ i e( 1 . Th * • \- w ere < m \y real as connected in a un.ity which was a- rl^se and vital as its differentiations. Indeed, it wm the very closeness <.»f the unity which made us conclude that its fundamental difierentiations could *..>nlv be selves. 86. We are thus entitleonaIity than the other element of multiplicity. But, although not more essential, it may perhaps be called a more jKwitive element of personality, for rejisons somewhat analogous to those for which the Thesis of a triad is a more positive element in the »Synthesis than the Antithesis is. The element of the unity in the person belongs exclusively to him, while the element uf the midtiplicity, though it belongs to him, belongs also to the outside real it \, w ith which he is in connc^ction. And, while the element of niultiitlicity is an element in his nature, it is only part ot liis nature by the fact that he distinguishes himself from it, separates himself from it, and excludes it from hini>elf in one sense, while he includes it in another. The element of tlu* unity, on the other hand, is in no sen.se distinguishable from the p«'rson. The unity of the Absolute is as real as its ditlerentiations, and as real as the unity of a |»erfect finite self — while it is much more real than the unity of a finite self as it manitests itself imjH'rfectly in this imperlect worhl. But the Absolute is a unity of ay. stem, ami not a unity of centre, and the element of unity in it cannot be a sim|)le anXALITY OF' THE ABSOLUTE of self 18 not in this eleioeiit of iodivisible unity, I cannot tell when* it is. 87. The Absolute, lui^ we have seen, cauutii have this element of indivisible unity. And, theref^n-e, it cannot have tin personality that we have. *VBut," it will perhaps be answered, " it can have some ether sort of pTsonality. No one I'ver 8UpiK»ed the Absolute to be exactly thv same sort of person m we an*, and how can we tell tliat it eann«»t Ix," a jiersim in some (liffi;*reiit way V' This, hiiwev.r, is unjustifiable. Tlie [H»sition is no longer the saim* as when we were diseiissin^' Lotzr's arguments t<.r the possibility r»f a sense of self witli.mt a Ni,>ii-Ego. There we julmitted that thi* ennsciousm-ss of the Non-Kt^«» was not the direct sense <»f self, and that we could distinguish in thought the one frum the i >ther. We knrw of n<» case in which the sense of self wiis touinl without the cuns, tir what ditfenneo tho change w«»uld maki- to itself. Still, ih»' seiisr of self i.s not tli<* c»>nsciousn.es.s (jf th< • N on- Ego. And thus thero is ;m ;iljslract [n'obability. though a v;du«'less one, that th»- sen-* (.t ^If may i \i>t ulirn* th»iv is no Non-Ego, and conseijuently no eonscimisncss of it. Bui hvn* tlir ea>.- i> clitT.rrnt. The sm^.- of self is the indivisifjle unity in consi;ioiisiie»s. Tfh- Al»s..luir has not the indivisililr unity, juhI therefon* it has no >. n-. of self. There- i\ »re it is not a |Mr>-»n. There is no n»oMi li*ft tor any further possibilitirs. If llio arifuriient has any \alidity whatrvrr, all such jMissibilities an- .x.-hided. Thr ari^ummt is n.* lunger that the qualities of tin- Abs.ilutr aiv iiironsistent willi an accompaniment withrnit which wo cjuuiot i magi no |iorsonality. It is that ihr F THE ABSOLUTE o^ are fro. one ,K>i„t of view, all in every part. Tl,e i.^ssibiU^^^ of this may become more obv„.,.s ,f wo <■;-' ^"^ ^■'^ j^^f^^ ferentiations, of which the Absolute ls the umt>, are them X^! t'rson<= If the Absolut. ha,l a consciousness of self, selves persons. " " ,,„,si,l,. the finite persons. that c.nseiousness o.ml.l not lull .mtM<' "no «i those txpn.-i ^ o Fssence-whioh certainly cannot be an ado.,uate catogonos "f ^l"^"*^*- J" ^ ^^ „.:,;„„ Absolute. And the expression ot thu natuio ot tnt tnu ^ solVconsconsnoss of tho A''- ""• »^-"' , [''^tde^J, ^ .iifforontiation se,mrately. for thou .t .....1,1 »>Y '"'Xlu e tho solf-oonsoiousnoss of each fin.to ,.o,son, an, the Ab lute, II k., . .... «jaf-eon^«i'»nsues8 at all. i^ui. im us a unit v. would have no seii-coii. « i "^ . • .1, .•n•.ti^.■ IS that the self- consciousness of the riiilv reinainin<' atornan\« is iiuit ».'»'^ . chould consist ot a muitii»iitu> ,!,...«? Or 1 1 . ......lifv lujirt trt)m tneinf ^-/r ...1. i ULV t lat It had no leatiiv ajunt , . Mirh a way nai another m thftt .me self-.ons.ious l)o,ng s mukl »h ku I .. iUnt .1 Irid no na itv ai.art troin it ^ Ami >ei, such a way that it Uau no , i i. I ..r.iw.l.t.x) if thf Al)soluo' 1*^ lo U%^ thoso statemiMits must be acM-ptul it tm n^ u- o i n,.,n. thin ts ( itterentiations, wo tall Hilf-consciou>. It It 1- "ioi. man u i V . It;. ..t K^MUco If t IS not more than int»» tho c.»ntradiction> ut ».>m n< . . n ,.,v .• »: .. it (annot dist nguish itself trom them ts ditlereiitiations it ( aniioi h .....nhnsitintr ... • I • ii. ... f.-,.tii It sell and so aiuiiniiating without distinguishing thom tiom it.st n, ***'*"** • ,hf if u.. thouLdit it worth while, 89 Ot rours.' wo might, it \u tnougnt it . Kff t.. -ill spiritual unitios (or to all aoolv thr trrm i>ersonalit\ t.. all spiimia ^ • ! iti ^ wluT.. tho umtv wiis as vital as tho dittereutia- spiritual uniti.s uhc th. . ^^^^^^^ ^^^ tion>) and not nierely to thos,. uhuh hav. ..If ...■mbl.ng that whioh w. oach km>w in ---»-- ^^^ K nl.l .riin tho ri'dit— wliatever that may be uoith-to so w.. sloud ^'^l\'^^^'-^ ^^^^^^^^^^ i^.^, ,His rather empty ^- l\\' halamod by several serious inconveniences. , it is a spmtnal un.ty, and ono that .t h.s a sonse of self U on own The first ot thoso .s not always acco.npau.od by h una. and tt is convonient to have a sepanUo nan.e lor 86 THE PEESONALITY OF THE ABSOLUTE each. At present we can call the first Idealism, and the second Theism. But if we call Idealism by the name of Theism, we shall have no name left to distiii^niish those Theists who do, and those Theists who do lutt, take the spiritual unity in ciiiestion to have a sense of self with some conceivable re- semblance to our own. And the distinction, which is thus igiion-d, i.s of great inipirtance for m(,'ta physics, and still more for relii^^i* m. ^f'oreover, if the Al)soliite is to he ("•ailed a person because it is a spiritual unity, theu ever}' ^"'<>lle^e, eveiy goose-club, ever}' gaii|( of thievrs. n,m>t a.ls*,j b<' called a person. For they are all spiritual unities. They all consist exclusively of human bluings, and they all uniti* their ineiiilnTs in some sort <»f unity. Their unities are indeed much l«ss perfect than the unity of the Alisiilute. But if an imperfect unity is not to be called an imfierfect jierson, then the namt* of person must be denied to ourselves as manifested here and now. For assuredly none of us at pn-^rnt havr nachfd that pertrct and harmonious self- d< • t * • r n » i n a t urn w h i c h i s essen lial to a pertec t |:)erson . N o w we aill ourselves fiersons, but no one, I belitn-ts has vwr pr(.|:»osed to call a fnotlMill team a, prrson. But if we now calh-d the Absolute a |H rson, we should have no d* -fence for n'fusino" the name to thr foot!»:dl team. For it shares its imperfection mith human beings, and its want of a diivet sense of self with the Absolutr. It can only, therefore, be conliising to call the Absolute a fw 'rson beeause it is a siiiritual unit v. It mii;ht be sugjirrsted that the word person should be applied to the Absohite and to oursrlves, to the exclusion of other spiritual unii!.< mi ihr ^n-ound that they alone are completely adequate expressi..ns a\- of surli philosophies as Lotze's and Mr Bradley'^, which do n.il accept tlie tinit.- self as an ai:le*]ual.e expres&i.in of reality, that they denied huuijin person- THE PER.SONALITY OF THE ARSOLUTE 87 alitv which would be a considerable departure from the ordinary meaning of words. Thus considerable inconvfuieuce would be caused by ex- tending the meaning of pt rs^.nality to include an Absolute without a direct sense of s«'lf. Nor does it appear what adviintage would be gained by keeping a name when the old meaning has been surren«lered. 90. It has oftrn Immh sut,'tr«'sted that the Absolute, if not a pers4m, may Im- sometliing high»r than a pers<.n. And this view has often been gladly adojittMl by th<»se to whc»m the only other alternative seemed to b.- that it shouM b.- something lower. But from what has been said about the nature of the Absohite, it will follow that th<* wliolr .pustion is unmeaning. The unity **( th«" Absolut «• is not mon* «»r h/ss pnfeet than that unity of each of its differentiations which we call j^ersonality. Each has an entirely difbr.nt ideal of iMTfeetion— the AUsolute to he tho luiitv of its ditfcrentiations. the perfect differentiation to bc! the unitv of all tlie siirnniiiding ditierentiatioiis. Neither of these ideals is higher than thr othrr. Kaeh i> indispen>ab1c to the other. Th.' ditb-rentiations caniu.t rxist except in the Absolutr. nor could the Absolute exist unless .arh «.f its difiennt iations was a prr.soii. To iisk which of the two is the higher is as unmeaning as to ask whether the stato or the citi/m' is higher. The state and the citizen have each their own cxcelli'iicies. And these cannot b. ■ compared, since they have dit!«?rent ideals of ex- ci'llencr. The pt'rt('Ctioii of the eitizeu is not to be like a state, nor the perlectii^n (»f a stat.- to be likr a eitizm. And neither of th<'m has any worth except in its ditiVivric- from the other, for, t»xcept tor that ditbrmr.-. neither could »xist. A stiite cannot exist without citizens, nor citizens without a state. The genrral unwillingness ti. regard the Abs.duti- as impersonal is. I think, largely due to a failure to recognize * That in. a^ citizen. It i« •niit*' p far m he is Buch an eternal and aile<|uute expre«.sion, and therefore superior to the state, if* not only a citixen. ^^a^ fift Til PEHSONALITY OF THE ABSilLCTE this coHipIeiiieritary character of the two unities. It is supposed that, if the Absolute is not persoiMiI, it must be higher or lower thmi perHoiis. To suppose it to be l<.\v«r might perhaps be iiiaintained to be contnidicton , and would certainly he cheerless. But if we make the Absoluri' to be higher than ijersonality, it must siirfKiss aiitl tninseoiHl it, and it is thus natural to say that the Abwilote is personal and iiiort,,,;. 91. I haw now rxplaincsd, as far as i am able, the grounds on which I think that fieminalitv- ought not to be ascribed to the Absohite, if we ae<'T|.t H.'^.-l'^ account nf tlie Absolute as corr<;»ct. It remains lor us to considrr what ftfeet, on our conduct and «Hir feelings, would be [)ro«luc»'(l by the general adoption ofsurli u lielief a iH-Ii.-f which is. of couwe, »M|uivalent to a rejection of ilie notion of a |>ei*sonal iiorl. I have en- deav*»ureil to show alM»v<** tha,t thf n,atun' of these effects is irrelevant to tlir tiuth of tlii- belief" Bui it is n»'V»'rth»'lrss II mattrr of int«'r«-st> I^et us beein with thr etiV-rts of >uch a, belief on conduct. Would it, in \\u- tirst plae*-, n-nder virtue les> biinling, less imiM-ralive, tlian be lore ^ Sunly not. 1 )ifff'rent pliilosophrrs havr givfu \rry differing Jieeoiints « >f the naturr of moral obligation, liut 1 doubt if any of thrm have so bound it up with thr notion of (jod's p» r-onalily t liat tht- (lispn»of of that j>erMinality would efface thr distin€ti<»n bciween virtue and viei'. Sonjc nioralisis. in{)ier tlian the wicketi. And it has also been assorted that it would be absurd t.. act virtuously unless we l)eli«*ved that virtue would win in the hmg run. But tliese two iheuiies. while ihev certainlv leciuire that the Absolute .sh<»uld work for rigliteousnevs. do iiiit r.Mjuire a pewonal Absolute. If, on tlie other liand., we hold it in»t inijMMsible to pureue the g«.MMl. irrespeetiv*; of our jiersiinal ha|>piness. nnd without the certainty «»f eventual victory, tlie obligation, wliatever it may be, to virtu* »us action will remain unafli'cted h\ whatever tiieorv we mav hold as to thi* natui-e of the Abs« »lute. • Section* 75 ■ 7s. THE PERSONALITY OF THE AaSOLUTE 89 Nor would our views on the personality of the Absolute affect our power of determining particular actions to be virtuous or vicious. Some systems assert that go seldom asserted at the i»resent day that, with«»ut a l)elief in a per>onal CJod. we shi.tdd have no obligati«>n to l»e virtuous, or no means of ascertaining what virt'ie is. But it is s(»metimes maintained that, without a belief in a p*'rsonal (JcmI, our m(»tives ftir trength that we should become [»erceptibly les> moral. Hie p..int is important, but I do not see how it is to be settled. For. since we are not. now discovering what we fnight to do under tlic circumstances, but what we .shouhl «lo, it cannot be decided by abstract ivasi.ning. It is a matter for empirical observation and induction. And tlieiv seems t.) l)e no experience wliich is rch-vant. On the on»* hand, we can draw no iidVivnee from the fact that many pe.»j»le wlio de> lielii-ve in a iiei-sonal Ci«m1 use that belief as an incentive in well-«loing. It w that, it it was withdrawn, they would .lo less well. Many c..nvaleseents continue to use sticks which they would find, if they tried, they could dispense with. An«l the aljandoiimeiit of a belief is never entiieU a negative process. It must produce positive changes in the l»eliefs which remain, and may itself he caused by a new positive belief In the present case we only tV,und reason to reject the idea ot a personal ( io(l liecaus*- it was incom|)atible with a very positive notion of the Abs( »lute. And the new p.)sitiv.- beliets whose arrival is the cHxelative tif the di-sapiMjar- ance of lb*; ..Id .me mav hav.- the sani.- .th'cts ..n action as their predecessoi-s IkhI. f 90 THE PEHSONALITY OF THE ABSOLUTE Oe tlie other haiici it is uiitair to infer from the cases of men of illustrious virtue who have rejected the doctrine of a personal OcmI, that the genera! ri^ection of that iloctrine would not injure nionility. For all men are swayed by jiublic opinion and by tradition : and it is iiujMissible to (iniH.nstratf the falsity of the su'ggesti* m that the \irtu< 'S <*t" Atln-ists may ilepend in part i m the Theism of their nei«;hbours and parents. Tliere ;ire <:T»un tries, indeed, in which religions have flourished for iiianv vrars which in veil ve, at any rate for their educatetl adli»nnts. rhe denial of a jnTsona! s-upreiue God. And the fact that educal*-*! Brahinaiiists and liiuldhists an^* alvrnt as virtuous as other men sufficiently flisprove< all danger of a coni|il«-tc moral collaps.- as a consetfueoce of the disbelief in GcMrs [M-rsonality. But then it. is impossible to jirtjve that the standard ot virtur in India and ( *hina would not be rather hi]t(h«'r if more «if iheir inhabitants had a«loj»trd Theistic religions, or that the^ standanl of virtue in England would not sli*:htlv fall with the al»ajid«»nnient of such religions. 93. The ipiestion si-ems insohdile except by an ex[>erinH'nt conducted on a large seal*- for sevrral centuri»'s, and such an experiment niankiiid smns iu no hurry to niakr. W*- may, hitw* -vir. ob^irvr that \h*-rt' is an argument coinnmnly used «»n such sulijeeis, vvliieh, whether true or not, is ii-rclrvant here. It iiHl< av.mr-H i«» nIk.w lliat, without the belief that all things work togrtlHT for goinl, and. in [larticular, with* »nt the belief in inimortoiity, men, or at any rate mo>t men. would not have sutficient mrr-y a,nd enthusiasm to attain a high standard of virtue, though the obligation to be virtuous would not be diminished. Even if this \\*-w >o, it would not prow that the m loptioti of tlie theory sup|Mirted in this chajiter would have any bud effiet ..n luondity. For oiu* theory is compatible with — is even directly comiert ,1 with — the belief in immortality which is exjMiunded in the last chapter, and the Absolute, althouifh n« >t personal, is nevertheless spiritual, and cannot, therefore, Im* out of liarmonv with the most fundamental desires of our own spirits. Again, if n<»thing but the influetire of tradition and sur- roundings keeps morality from deterioniting when the belief THE PERSONALITY OF THE ABSOLUTE 91 in a personal God is rejected, it might surely be expc»cted that some trace of moral deterioration might be found at those times and places when this belief is most often (piestioned. And I doubt if an impartial study of history would discover anything of the sort. Whether the belief in a personal (lod is now more or less universal than it has been in the centuries which have passed since the Renaissance cannot, of cours«\ l)e iietermined with any exactness. But such slight evidence as we have seems to point to the conclusion that those who deny it were uevii- >o numerous as at present. And tht>se wh« » do hold it, hold it, it can scarcely be doubted, with fju- less confidence. There was a time whi'U this belief was ht»ld cajiable of demonstration with evidence equal to the evidence of m.tt hematics — a time when the safest basis for our moral duties w;is held to be a deun lu- stration that they could be deduced from the existence of (iod. But at the present time we find that the belief in a personal God is, with many men wh«» are countrd as believing it, not much more than a hopi'. entertauud with more or less (•.►ntideiice, that a doctrine, the trutli of which appears to them so miinently desirable, may in fact be true. Even when aiguments fi'om probability are accepted, the old ideas of matliematicid certainty are seldom tt» be found. And when attrinpts are made, at the present time, to show tliat the })ersonaIity of (h'd is logically connected with morality, it is the persomdity of GoerN»»iis was only inacle-niiite in so far m it fell helow its own ideal, and that, if IMjrfect, it would aiiord sn.eh an utterly coniplett? realisation of our whole iinture, thjit nothing else would be desirable or possible. It wiiul«l be sy|)errtuous to add the love of Gml to a love which, not in in.-tai»lir»r. l>ut. as a staten'ient of meta- physical truth, niu»t be calhxl i}ml and tlie wh*»le of God. Which of these is the higher f Is it the first class, because they demand nion* n\^yv\> of lov*. than the s.-cond, ' Or is it thf sr<-nnd. braiusiL* i1h*\- tin,d nii.,»n- in oUij sort of lovu than tlie hrst ? I do^ not s«-e liow this is to hv an,swered. <,„)r ratlier, 1 do not s.Mj I1..W the ansvvvr whi.-h i-acli of un will givv can W of interest exr-.-pt !<► hinwi-lf anil his triends. For there arr no iirguin. •Ills by wlacli oi,,- sid.' nii^'ht convinc*. the otlu'r. 96. But evrii it thr l»elief thiit tliiTv was no personal (iiMl w.rv disailvantaj.;<.iMis to our ni..rality ami our fr.lin.L(s, would the b«'lir-f that the Abmilute' was jHTsoiial be any bnin- ^ I think it v.ry iin|»robjd»h'. For if llinv is any nasuu to re^'anl thi* bflief HI a pnsonal rs>.ntial in these ifspeets. it ran <»nly be the btlirf in a prrsoual (io«l as it has hitherto prevailwl among mankind. And this belief certainly do,-s n..t refer to a, pei-sonal Absolute, but. t.) a l»eing wlio is not the ultjects of whom he is the king a> I he ehildren of wlioni he is the father, but einpliatically n*it as the parts of which lie is the wlmle. or as the ditleientiatioiis witliin liis unity. Royalty ami tatlierhocMi are, indee«l, «»nly meta|)h..i>, and admittedly not piiieetly adecpiate. But then tin r tact tlial neither of tin- related l>eings is iMirt of the oth»'i- d'M-N not x-rui t.> b«' a point in wiiicli the metai»hor is <,M,»nsidered as iDad,ecp,iat.e. On the contrary, it M,^ems Hither 'mr of the fw tints in ilw meta|ihor i»n which jiopular religion instNt>, liov\ever mucli the dejiendence of the human being may he emphasised, there never seems any tendeney to include him in the di-ity. (Such trndencies indeed api»ear from time to time among mysticjil thinkere. but they THE PEILSONALITY OF THE ABSOLUTE 93 are no more evidence of the general needs of mankind than the other systems which do without a personal God at all.) And this is confirmed by the fact that the common metaphors all agree on this point. Such relations as that of a cell to an organism, or of a citizen to the state, have never been fiiunti to be appropriate expressions of the ordinary religious emotions. It seems to follow that, if the conception <.f a i>ersonal ( Jod had shown itself inciispensable to our jiraetical life, we should find no satisfaction in such an Absolute as Hegel's, even if we h;id contrived to regard it as personal. 96. One (juestion remains Is it a|)propriat<' to call the Absolute by the naine of ( Jod. if we (h'uy it |M?rsonality ^ There is eminent authority in philoso{>hy — es[>eeially that of Spino/A and iti' Hegel himself — tor giving this name ta the true reality, whatever that may be. But this semis wjisteful. We have three distinct conee{)tions, (a) the true reality whatever it may be, (h) a spiritual unity, (c) a s[>iritual unity which is a person. We have only two names to >erve for all thn^e — the xVbsolute and G'»d — and. if we use them as svnonvniou-^. wr wilfullv throw away a chance of eonilmiing clearness and brevity. Then there is n«> doubt that (Jod is not used in that, sense in popidnr phrasr-ology. In popular j)hrasen|(>i(y ( Jo«l is only used of a spiritual unity which is a pennon. In siieli a matter as this, I submit, pliilosojthy ought to conform its terminology to that of |M)|)ular u.sage. It is irn[Missil)le to keep philo.sophical terms exclusively for the use of |>hiloso|)hical students. Whenever the subject is one of LTeinial intn-.st — and tlie existenc<- ot a Gmi is certainly on.- of these —th*- opinions <»f great phiIosoj»hers will be rep«»rted at s.M-ond hand to the world at large. And if the world at large hears Spinoza descrilied as .1 ^'God-intoxicated man," or as more truly an Acosmist tlian an Atheist, or if it tind.s that Hegel's Logic is one long attempt to (h't^-rniine the nature of (Jod, it will I >e very apt to con<'eive that Sj)in<»Zii and Hegel believed in (Jod as a pers< >n. X<;w it is universally admitted that Spinoza did nothing of the kind, and I shall try to prove, in ( 'liapter VI 11, that Heg«'l did not do so eith n<»t (Jod, and, in consrijuence, that thoic is no ( jod. Tlii- rorollary imj»lirs that the word (I*Ki signifies not only a prixiiial, but also a supreme ln/ing, and that no finite differentiation of the Absolute, wliattvir liis powi-r and wisdom, would be rntitled to the name. It may l)e < »bjected that this wniild eaiisc tlir ilH-.n ot the dialectic to be classed, under the name of Atheism, with very different systems — such as deny the unity <»f all reality to l)c spiritual, or tleny it to be more vital than a mere aggteirate. Hut jdl negative names must be nioie or less niis<'elianeuu> in theii* denotation. It is much more inip«»rtaiit to preserve a drtinite meaning for Theism than for Alheisni, ami this can only be done if Theism is uniformly used to include a belief in the personality uffltxi.. CHAPTER IV. THE SUPREME (AHH) AND THE MORAL CRITERION. 97. What may we conclude, on Hegelian principles, about the Su|)reme ( io(»d i The Logic has given us the Absolute Idea, wliich stands to knowledge in the same relation as the idea of the Su()remc ( iood, if there is one. stands to action. In examining the Al)solute Idea, we find it involves the existence of a unity of individuals, each of whom, perfectly individual through his perfect unity with all the lest, |)hices before himself an end and finds the whole of the universe in complete liarmony with that end. If we ha\e been justified in taking the Absolute Idea as only expressibh' in a unity of individuals, the rest of this description clearly follows. The individuals must be in harmony, and how can a conscious individual be in harmony with anoth<'r. exeept by proposing an end to which that other is a means, though not, of course, a mere means ^ Besides this, if we look at the final stages (if the Logi<% we shall find that the idea of Knd, once introduced at the close of the Objective Notion, is never again lost. It is i is scarcely more than a truism. But it always waiit> n'|N,'t.itinii, and never more than at present. It k < iften asst-rt.-.l that ideals are reril because they are goo'l. arnl from this it fo]li»ws by funiial logic that, if they were not real, th*'\ would not lie g*H>d. Against this we must pmtrst fur tlie sake iMith of truth and of giHHJness. The idea of th, good n .mes from that paradoxical ■power which is im •«--■« •-•^•(1 hv r\*i\ ciiuscitius iiieinot„'r ot the univ.rsr — the |Mnv«r t\*stem, of n 'alit\- «if whieh he; himself is a part. If the whole 'eon«tituticiii of the whole universe led, 1»\- the clearest deveh»i)Mient tit lt^ e>svnnal n:iture, to our tniivnsal damnation or our rewluti-.n into aggregates of material alnms. th«' eoni- plete and inevitabh- reality of these results would, not give even the first stej. towards i.»r*»ving them gooii. 98. But althongli the suprvtnely nal. a> >uch, is not the suiireinelv t!ood, we may admit. 1 think, that if the supreme reality lie surli a.s I legel has des«:;ril:M»d it to be, then it will coineide with the supreme gt kmL For. in th.- reality so defined, evei-v eonseious iM-iiig — and there are no other beings— will express all Ins individuality in one end, which will truly and af'lecjuately express it. The fulfilment of sn<'h an end as this would give :siitisfactM»n, not i»artial and tmiporary, but (•(iinplete and ftcrnal. And since rach individmU finds the whole uni- versr in harmony with his end, it will necessarily follow lliat the end is fulfilled. Ibiv is a ^upl.•me goo iM'ings must alwav> inv..lvr thai. But the pleasure is only on«' olement of the ;,..r.ect state. Th.- su,,,,- .„.-l is not i.l.asun. a.s such, but this |Kirtieula,r pleasant state. WO. It does not follow, how.vi r, that, because we have determined the supreme giHMl, wr have tlieretbre determined THE SUPREME GCXID AND THE MORAL CRITERIOX 97 I i the criterion of morality. They can be identical, no doubt, but tbej need not be so. The object of a criterion is merely practical — to guide our actions towards good. For this purpose we recpiire something which shall h% a sun* sign of the good. But a thing may have many marks besiinion of a gcKKJ stock-broker a much surer test of the safety of a stock than could be furnished by his own efforts to estimat./ the force.q which will be the real causes of 8ah„'ty or dangei*. We must remember, also, that f<)r a satisfiictory criterion of morality we do not recpiire a sun- test of all good, but only a sure tost of sueh good as can po^sibly be secured by our voluntary eff«»rts to secure it. If we find a criterion which will tell us this, it will be unne-i --ary to rejeet it because it is init als(. a siitisfactory test of sonn' other element of gfMMl. whieh we may onjoy when we get it, but cannot get by our own aetion. 101. But is a mond criterion want«»d at all ? It might be maintained that it was not. It would only be wanted, it might be wiid, if wc derided our actions by general rules, which we do not. (h\v moral aeti(»n depends on [)artieular judgments that A is better than Ji, winch we recognize with companitive innnediaey. in the same way that wo n-mt^nize that nts of value, anci noth statcinentM may be tnie. But if A asserts that to be right which B iisserts to be wrong one of them must \w in error, micv they juv making contrary statements about the same thing. It is therefor*' impossible to treat all particular judgments of value as valid. We must do with them as we do with the pirticuljir judgments of existence— that is to say, tr.-at them Jis the materials in which truth may !»•• iliscovered, but not as themselves all true. We iiiu>t nj.rt s..inr, and arctpt others. Now I do not s.M- h«»w this is to l»r r of the wisest, men ai*e to be toUowed, tlien- will lie a criterion. For wi' cannot recognize the best, or the wisest in ethical matters, without a g«n.*ial iilea of the good. To make the reeognititm itself depend on onr ot" thr particular intuitive judgn'ients to be t.-t.'.l would hv a, vi.-ious rirdr. 102. A criterion is therel^av nrcssary. l^et(»re ei.nsid.-ring its nature, wi- must eonsidi-r an ambiguity as to t.h«' matter which it. is to judgf. Th« ' ethical signiticanc- ..f th.- content of any mommt of tune is doubh*. It may be consid.red in itself III that case its moral signiticanc*- will drptnd on th«' clos«n.'ss with which it resendilcs tin* content wliich would nalisc the suprein*/ g* m\k1. Or it may be considered as a im*ans towards a future ensed action only one is prac- tical>le for us. Wf i-an s.-e, to some extent, what conduct endjodies the sujavme j^ood Irast impi-rfectly. But we have no matrrial whatrv.r for deciding what conduct will tend to bring about tlie comph-tc reali.satiou of the supreme gcMMl. That lies so far in the future, and involves so much of which wc arc complet. ly ignorant, that we are quite unable to predict the Fiiad whicli will learl to it. What we do know, if we follow Hegel, i^ this— that the road w<' do take will lead to it, because the suprenu' good is also the suiiremc reality, and is therefore the inevitable goal of all temp«»ral process. It fiillows that tile criterion of m..nd action which we r«'(piire is not on»' wliich will determine what actions will most conduce to the eventual establishnn'nt of absolute pertecti*»n. It is one whicli will tell US what actions will bring about, immediately, or in th.- comi»;uatively near future which we can predict with reasoualile ceitaintv, tiie state wliich conforms as closely as possible to thjit perfect ion. The points I wish to prov« • in this chapter are (I) that the idea «»f [lertection amnot givr u- any criterion nt mond action ; (2) that the liednnic computation of pleasures and pains does give us a di'tinite cril.rion. riglit or wrong; (.'l) that the use <»f this latter criterion is not inconqjatible with tlie recogmtion of perfection its the supr. ine gomi, and would give us, it not unerring guidance, still guidance less erroneous than wouhl be aiionled by any other applicable criterion. 103. Let us consider the tii*st point. When two courses are presented to a man who wishes to act rightly, and he is in * Cp. Chap. VI. 7-2 IW TH'E 8UPEEM,E CJCKII) AND THE WmXh CRrTERIOX doubt wlii€:h of t'hein he shall mlopt, will he be assisted by reflecting on the nature of the supreme reality, which we have decided to Im; also the supreme K(.kh1 f. It is clear, to begin with, that if either of the coiirsiacc, in the present state of .iur>clves and our experience. The reality coEtemplatwl by Hegel in his Absolute Idea is abselutely spiritual, absolutely timeless, absolutely pnfect. Now none of ,1^ cvrr jret a chance ot })i;ii«»riiuii,i,^ an action tlie result of which would satisfy these three conditions. 'I'lie result of any actions poBsil)le t.) us now wtmiM In* a state in which si.irit was still encomfMissed with mattei-, in which change still to.ik place, and in which iHTfectiou. if rather nrartr than before, was still obviffusly not altannd. It is useless then to test <»ur actions by encpiiring if they will realise the surireme good. Nomo ol them will do that, and we are reduced to considering which ot' them will enable us to rejich nither nearer to supreme good than w.- w. iv befi»re. 104. This l wlio assert the idi-a of |»erft'ction to be an adeciuat.e criterion. They geneniUy take a case in which s.>me foim of the ile>ii-e lor gfMwl as good— some fV.rm «>f speciiieally n:ioral feeling— is opposed to M.mething desired regardless .>f, or in opposition t«», morality. Tliey liuvi- then comparatively little difficidty in iisserting, with >.»rae probability, thaX tht; idea <»f pertection would l»e a sufficient guide to direct us to the tirst rather than to the seci md. For peite.tion ch'ai-ly includes a positing <4tlie supreme good by each p. r-.n as Ins ent raise any state, <'f vvhich it is a moment, above all other Stat* s which do not parti<*ipate in it. But even if this criterion is true, it is alm< >st always ustless. It is of some use if there is a .piestion of another will besides that of tlie agent. For then there would be some meaning in laying that A's duty to B wils to endeavour to make B do that which B himself thought morally right. Here the will to be THE SUPREME r.r> the ideal of perfection pre- scribes fur him lier.- and now, all the reply that can be made is that it will be best f^>r him to take the course which he takes believinir it to l»e the best. Now he certainly will take the course which he l)elieve«^ to be morally the bc*st. For, if not, he would not have sought guidance in an ethical criterion. Such a crit«*ri<»n can never give a reasnn why the morally good should be .lesired. All it can do is to tell us what things are morally good. If A has not decided to act morally, th«! criterion will be inert'ectiv.', f(»r, if lie has not decided to act rightly, why should he refrain from an action because it is wiong ? If, on the <»ther hand, he has d.-enhd to ar what he wants is to 1m' lielp.-d in judging which of them is riglit. 105. Th.' practical use of ethics— and it is this we are considering— can only ocetir. then, wli.ii a man has resolved to net in conformity with duty, and is not certain what course duty j)rescril)es. Two courses of action may each lie in itself morally desinil)le, and may lie incomi>atihle, s«» that we are in doubt which to pursue. Twi» courses of conduct, let us sujipose, are presented to us. By taking '/ w.- sliall further the .nd a, by taking b the end 0, Both a and /:? are go^nl, but a and h an* incompatil)h'. Can the principle n{' perfection t.dl us whether a or ff is, under the circunistaiiees. to Im- prefrrred^ It seems to me that it is impos- sible in most ca>es. if not in all. It is clear that neither a nor fi can be expected to be realised unchangefl in the supreme gmid. Fiir any end which can be attained by an action in iit turward as a uniral iwivanee. CJan the conten:iiilati«»n of the su.pi-enie gmxi help us to decide this e no sexual desire, and in a world which was timeless tliere coidd be no p,ro|Migation ele88 antin«imy — ho|M»less, not from the actmd want of a s.ilution. but because le solution requires a knowledge of detail tar beyond our ver. The conservative side may lisst^rt, and with perfect truth, THE SUPREME GOOD AND THE MORAL CRITERION 103 that in perfection all relations are absolutely constont. But if th. y infer from this that a minimum of change m the relati.mships between i)articular men and particular women is most onsonant to the supreme gcKxl, the umovators may reply, with equal truth, that in ixrlbction all relations will he the tre.. .xpn-ssiou .»f tlie inner nature of the individual. and itself in oljjectiv.. unitV.rniities, it may with equal force be rrtorted that true constancy does not lie m clinging to external arrangements which have 1m mr unHt expressions of the intrrnal nature ..f the p.'r-son^ roncerned, but m tlie continu.ms r..adjustni.-nt of the .xt.rnal to the developing nature of the internal. If there is a ivjuu.hr that tru. drvelopnieut does not consist in vieMing to ca,)rice, th. iv may be a rebutter that true onler does not lie m blindly acc.,.tin- i-xpericnce. but in moulding it. Ami so on. and so or». until the stock of mlitVing truths runs out, if it ev.r d.X3s. We can never tret tonvanl. ( M..- Md- can always pn.vc that there i« some tood in a. and some impertectiou u. ^. The other side can prove tlie cnnxcrsr pro|X»8itions. But to know which is best, we should haw to disc.v.r wliether w. should be nearer to r *• :*• . fUA. i.r4^K*'nr looiiM'Ut we erni)hasise«l treedom, pertection it at tlie pieseni nioni« m i . ^i. ' e ...»t»t.;i.«. ,ir iMiinhasis»*(l order, cv»*n at the even at the pnc iA eapiKc. oi rnipn.iM. ^ 4- . ♦.. .;..t Ami h«»w are we to disccivcr this f price* «»i constraint, .vnu now «*n- «» An.l yvt the particular i.robl.-.,, w.- hav beeu .liscussmg is ,.,..• „n which nmsl , ,.l.- in tJ.- world, and most .,t the indein.ndeut thinkers ot ll..- worl.l, hav.- .•,.im,. U, the same conclusion. But that. 1 lan.> . is btxause ih-y take a more practical criUTion. It w.- .stimat,- th. «'»" <"• l"«-'^ "f happiness which wo,il.l follow from tl.. abolition of marriage, we may perhaps find .■xnllei.t reasons for declining to make the change. But we sh.ill not have l.een heliK-d in our .leeision by the idea of the supreme good. 11 ■ :i., „^^..^ foiild he found. Public .schools Innumerable similar cases couiu uc louim. 104 THE srM'KEME rri,vr,t we buy ^'eln^irl.•rM■>■^ with Philistinism, or buy enltur*- witii Srhwiirmerei ^ Tlie man who answers that fliiestion wouliJ mmi to k' nt aithoii*^h th<' suiirenitj ffml is u-. '• - as a help in a rciil investigation nf nn ethical cjuestion, it is a dangerously ef!i<'i«-ijt ally in a kirren ari«i u,nf;iir |,Mrl.-niif. For ot is nlways fiartly j,'M'id, ft iM-v<-r <|iiitt' ^'hhI. Ignoi'*' the corres|»odiiig proi»ositiifi»s. that /3 is also goiid, and a also iniperf<:jct. and we ha\"«* ail adijiirablf arj^uiiimt i'nv ariylhin<,^ For this |nir|Fi«e thf word- *' iru«- '" a,iid " lii^^li'-i- '* are useful. Thus i\v ojijiou.-iii i,i niiirrmf^*\ if eoufrontt-d with the giKxlness of itnh-r, inay n^ply that the trif. or tlir higher, order is ft-eedoni. fiu,t th»*n th.- ^ii|i|>orti-r of niarriagi* may i-nter on the .same so|ilii,stry, liy repn-MMiting tliat the true, or the higher, freedom i> ordtr. Ii*ifh propositions an- «juiie true. In the supreme t,'OMl, iifder and tn'id«»ui aie so trausct'iided, that lliev are eoini.atil.le --iitdced, ideiitiral. It is true that the (lertect fi»rui- (tf i-aeh an* ither's imperfect fiirni. Tli*- soj.lii^iiv li«s in iiiakiiii( this the t^n mhhI for pre- ferruig th*- iiiiptit'cr t.^in of the one to the iniperfeet torm of th*' «»th«r. \\'h»ii we ettusi*ler how short and simph* such a deviri- is. a- ••nuifwired with a, lalxirious empirical calcuhition ot rohs*«jii.-ne» s, and that it i-aii be applied on atiy side « >f any dis|iut«*. w<* mav .xprrf that it will in tin* futiin- furnish as <-..!i\*-iiient a, sh»*lt.-r Wt preju.diees and indolence as innate moral irhas or tlie h*'althv instin souie,a;nd whicli could altsorb between them, with goinl results, more than the total aunjunt we have to divide. Ethical jirobk-ms arise here to wliich the answers I THE SUPREME OOCHI AND THE MOKAL CRITERION 105 must be (piantitative, and I fail to see what hope there is of settling them by means of tlie idea of the supreme good. A man with some leisure may admit — and will generally Vm^ wise if he does —that he sht)uld devote s.ime of it to work ot public utility, and some to direet self-improvement. But how much t.» each ? He coidd very probably use all his leisure for either pur I >n.se with good ros!ilts. At any rate, hr will— in the great majiuity of cases— often tind an li.iur which he could use for either. Wliich sludl he sacritice f Shall he attoid a com- mittee meeting, or sjiend the ewning studying metaphysics? Thoso dirtirulties e..ni.- to all of us. The eontemplation of the 8UI)remegood will tell us, it may be granted, that both tueta- physies and social w..rk have an element of gooil in them. But our contemplation cannot tell us which to prof«'r to the other, for thf suprem«* ii«HHl chooses neither, but, transcending l)oth. ♦•nj'^ys both in their fidl perfection simultaneously, whieh is just what, in the present imperfect statr of things, wo . annot do. And it is no go,Kl telling us to negh-.-t nrithrr. or to niakr a divisi.m of our time. For a division «*aniiot Im* made in the alistract. \> «' must make it at a jiarticular p<»int, ami assign the marginal hour of which we havo bom speakinu oitli.r to philanthropy or to metajihysies. Tin* distribution of w(*alth pnseuts us continually with similar .juestions. A man witli a thousand a year would probablv feel that he ought to givr >oiMrihing to relieve distress, and also to givo his childivn a lR*tter o.lucation than thr avonige child gets at ptvsent. P>ut this abstract ronvirtion will not divide his inronw for liim. Shall he send his sruis to a second- rate RchcM»I, and pensi-.n his ol.l nurse, or shall he send them to a tirst-rato school, aiul lei h.r go to the workh.mso ' Prohh.ms like thi*so are the real ethical dith.-ulties of life, and they are not to be solved hv generalities— nor oven by .•ontoin]»lating the idea of tho supreme good, in which there are neither schoi)l-bdls nor worklH.uses. aiul wlu.se [.erfections are in c.,nse(iuence irrele- vant to the situation. 109. It may be said that it is not within tho province of ethics to deal with individual cases such as this. And ui one sense this is true. A system of ethics is not bound to lay down 106 THE Sl'FREME OOOD AND THE MOIIAL CRITERION beforehiirifi the pr««ise action a man onglit to take in every con- ceitable contingency. This wfnild, t^> lu^frin with, be impossible, owing to the number of possible coiitiu.«(eiicies. Atij(*('ts wotdd beasgo-Ml as any other distriliution. It would hv still more absunl to jissert that a man who d.-sired to act rightly wouI«i not care whether he niadf the best i,M,issible distribution. Smvly tin- only alternative is t.i lonk to rlliic.N tor tlie principle on which we iimst make th«- distribution. And it is just tliis m whic'h the id.efi of the supreme good fails to fn-lp us,, 110. It has been suggested that a suitable f« >rniula for ethics may hv found in '* ruy stuti«,»ii ami its duties." Hach of n« finds himself in a particular place in th«* world. Tin- [»ar- ticnlar cheiractiTistH-s of tb,i • situation, suggi-^t certain duties. Do thtssi.!, aj'id ,tn this way the sujireme gcKK,l will be most ad van teged. As an analysis of nmrality this theory has many recommen- dations, and it was not, if I nndersUnd rightly, originally jiut forward as a mond criterion. But, (or the sake .»f completeness, it will l,>e well to jMiint out that it is nt,.t availalile m a criterion. In the first plarc. it fails to tell us how we are to judge those pei-sons wbo havr ri,Hli-av*,n,ired t.o advancr the go..d by going beyond, or ci»ntrary to. the duties of the station in winch they then wir* , and so tiiinstorniing their society and their own station in it. The nnmber of thest- n»ay hv comiianitively small. But the eflVct of their action is so inijiortant for *\ ei\one that THE SUPREME GOOD AND THE MORAL CRITERION 107 it is essential for a moral criterion to be able to determine when such innovatii»ns should be accepted and when rcyecteo h-.xws a Viist imiss of true ethical Such cpicstic.ns can in the long run .mly be answered by ivference to an ethical ideal. And the idejil of mv station and its duties will not help us For while thr ideal m\ will certainly vote for the bills he thinks .Might to pass, and against those he thinks ..ught ii«»t to pass, there is inithing iu the c.)nc,e|,lion of a perfi-ct member .d parliament which can tell us iu which of thes.- chi.sses h.' will place J» Sundav Closing Bill. Or my statir.n may be that of a school master. I his detmes my fhitie^ within certain limits. But it cannot tell me whether in a particular ease it is worth while to make a boy obeilient at the cost of making him sulky. Thus the prin.-iple, if taken as a .Titeritm. is not only inadecpiate, but it iiroclaims its own inade.piacy. For the duty of an M.P. or a >choolmaster is not only to vole on bills, or to act on boys, regardless of tlie manner. Init to vote rightly on bills, or t.i' act rightly on l>oys. And. since U.e right way in each particular case can never be got out of the mere idea ol the station, the formula itself shows that some other criterion is needed for the adequate guidance of our action. 108 TBI: SIPHEMK fJiMiIi AND THE MoilAL CRITERIOX 111. I iiiiw j)r«K-oed to tlir iM*xt branch of iiiy subject — namely tliat the calciiljifi«*i» of pleiwu res arid pains does give a definite criterion of ji<,*tioii. (Calculation is, I think, a better word than caleuhis. whieh, mn ji trehnieal term of mathematics, seems to imply a pn-eisicm unattainable, on any theory, in •ethics,) I am not now mninrainiii|( that, it is a c< »rrect criterion —that it will enablr us to .listin^insh riijht from wrong, but iiierelj that it is suffic-iently drfiiiit<- to In- a,ppli«'d t« » artions in an inti'lligible way. The ipiestion (»f its rMrrectn.ess from an ethieal p«iiiit uf view must Ix- i»ostponed for tin* pr^'scnt. 112. The elemrnts at any rato «»f such a cahiilation an* clear. We do know what a pl»*asiin: is. aii of whirh wr can liardly tfll wh«'th«'r th»v giv«* us pleasure or pain. And tlun* an* many casrs in whirli we shouhl Hnd it ini|,MJS8iljle til decid*' whifh of tw.i plra.sun's, or t»f two jiains, was thr ,t5rea.t»*r. This, lit>w«*vi'r, wliilf it n,o dou,l)t introdut-rs some un- ffrtrtintv int«» our eah-ulatious, d.M*s m.t ••ntirolv viiiat.- them. For wlien wf ran see no iliffrrnn'o. as to amount of [ilcasun' or pain bit w.'. 11 two mental .states, ur mav safely eon elude that the difierenn- existing is smalli»r than any perceptil)le one. And, in the siime way, if we are iinahh* to tell whether a pariieular state is more jileasuiahle than paiiitui, we may safely conclude that the vxct-ss i.f ..m- feeliii*^ over the ..th« r must be small. Thus the mai^i^in ot* va_;(U''ii«-s> whieli i> I •'ft. is it-self limited. This is <|uitr ddierent trom the fur more dan!(en")us vaguenes.s which wt* found in eoii>i«|t.rin'4 |MTfretii>ri. When we were unable to tell wlietlier llie maintenance or the abolition of marri.age wou,lut this is no reason why we sh(»ul«l be unabh; to classify them by the amount of a particular abstract element which is in all of them. No ship contains abstract wealth fis a carg). Some have tea. some have butter, some have macliinery. But we are .piite justitied in arranging those ships, should we find it convenient, in an order determined by the extent to which their concrete cargoes possess tin- abstract attribute ot being exchangeable for a number of sovenii^ns. 114. Another objection which is often made to hedonism lies in the fact that pleasures vanisli in the act of enjoyment, and that to k»M«|) up any good that mij^ht be based <»n pleasure, there must be a continuous 8eri«*s »»f fresli pleas»ire.s. This is directed agjiinst the possil)ility of a sum of pleasures being the suj.reme good. As we are here <»nly lookinir for a criterion, we might pass it by. But it may be w.ll to remark in pa.ssiug that it .seems unfounded. For so h»ng as we r-xist in time, the supreme good, whatever it is— perfection, .self-rejdisition, the good will — will have to manifest its* -If in a series of states of con.M-iousness. It will nevi r be fultilled at any one m<»ment. If it Ih* said that all these states have the c<.mmon elein.'nt of perfection or the gjod will rurniini: through them, the hedonist might repl> that in his idi-al condition all the states of cotiM-ioiisness will have th*' common elemeiii of pleasure running through them. Fh-asiire, it may be olijected, is a mere abstraction. Certainly it is, and the element of a pure identity which runs through a ditierentiated wliole must always be to some extent an abstraction, becjiuse it abstracts from the different iati< Ml. In the same way, perfection or good will, if conceived as timeless elements of a consciousness existing IIO' THE 8UFEEME CifMlfl AND THE MOHAL CRITERION in time, are jiwt m imich abstract, since abstraction is thus made; of the circumstances under which alone they can be conceiveci as real and crmcrftc. So loner, therefore, as our consciousness is in tiiiu% it can be ■ * IT. 10 reason of special repr< »Jich to pleiksure that it can only be realised in a continuous succession. And if our consci«>nsnes8 shoul«l ever free itself of the tV>rin of succession, thiTi' is no reason whv iileasurt* should not Imj realised, like iill the other c*lf'!ucnts of eoiisriiiiisness, in an «>t.Tnal U>nn. Iiideod pleasure si-.ins Inttrr adaptrd for the transition thim the other elements of con^scionsness. A timeless ti'i^ling is no ({(.nht an .»l)S€ure conception. But we am, I think, form a better idea of what is meant by it thjin we can of tin* ujcaning of timeless (•.„>gnition or i»f tini«-l«'s< v<.litir>n. 115. We no^v tome, however. t(. a more serious difficult}'. Hedonic calculations re«|uire, n«»t only that we sliould e(»mpare the magnitude> of pleasur«s, Ijut thjit we shouhl add and subtract them. Th.- a.-ii-.ns wliieh we propisr to <.ursrl\-i,-s will not each result in a single i>leasur«* or pain. Each will have a varietv of residt>, and, as a rule, sonn* ot tln'm wnl Im? pleasures, and winie piiins. To compare two projreted act inns, thereftire, it will l)e neeessaiy in each ca>r !•• lake the sunj of I lie [»leasur«>, sul)tia a third ipiantiiy of the same kinrl — that the ditier* -nee lM'tw«'»-n t\vt» lengths is itself a length, and tlu* ditlerence between two ilurations is itsrlf a duration. And, since tliis characteristic is wanting in intensive quantities, it is concluded that it is impossible to deal with then,! arithmetically. The question is one of great ini|iortance, and the answer THE SUPREME GOOD AND THE MOHAL CRITERION 111 affects more than the hedonic criterion of moral action. It will, I believe, be found on further consideration that, reasonably or unreasonably, we are continually making ailculations of pleasures and piiins. that they have an indispensable place in every system of morality, and that any system which substitutes perfection for jileasure as a criterion of moral action also involves the addition and subtraction of other intensive quantities. If such a process is unjustifiable, it is not hedonism onlv, but all ethics, which will become unmeaning. 116. Introspection, I think, will convince us that we are c«)ntinually adding and subtracting pleasures and jiains, or imagining that we do so, and acting on what we su|»pose to be the result of our calculations. Whether we do it as a moral criterion or not, we are continually doing it in ciLses in which we do not bring morality into the niatter. Su|ipose a man to l>e j)resented with twcj bills (.f fare for two equally exjiensiv*' and efpially wholesome ♦' invited to choose which he shidl take. Few of us, I fancy, would either find oiirselves unable to decide the ([u.-stion, or admit that our answer was purely capricious and umneaning. Yet h< »w can such an answer he given except by adding pleasures? Even the most artistic coni|io>ition can scarcely give such imity to a dinner as to admit of the ple5ts!n*es we derive from it being regarded as anything but a succession of jileasures from each dish— not to say each mouthftd. And, if w.- still prefer one (linner to the otlier, dues not this involve th<- addition of pleasures i Such cases make up a great part of our lives. For even when distinctiv.h mond considerations come in, they very often leave us a €hoi<*e of equivalent means, whi(;h can be settled only by our own pleak, but there may be n.» motive but pleasure to .settle whetlier 1 shall use a light copy with bar in which tin- ;;rf;itt'i- keenness nt ..ne feeling is balanced aga,nist ilw -n-atrr Inicrth of the other. 117. This calciilati<»n t»t' pleasiins is not only re(|uisite for lite, but it tills an indisiM?nsabK% though siilMudinatf. place in even non-he«l.iiiisl morality. If, with tw. r(.urses a and 6 before me. I can find no iM-rc.-piil)!.- ditiVrmre eitiier to the welfare f which is none the Irss moral !\- evil. But, even if we \v:i\r this out. it rail scarcely be denied that tlier.' ;ue cases when it is our duly to gi\e pleasure, simplv a- |.t. aHiirv. t.. others. Hvni Kant admits this. And if we have to do this we must either confess our actions to be utterly absurd, or else has.- them on a calculation of plriisures. \Vh. iirViT ritlitT cius.. produces a succession of pkiisures or j,»ains, \vheni,'V'i,-r |ileiL>u.re> an«l |,»ains have to be balanced against on*- another, wlien^vrr the intensity ot one fe'cling hais U > be balanced again,st tlie length ot' another, or the intensity of one man's teeling against a |>luralit \- i„»f weaker feelings in many men — in all thes«- cavr> we must eitlier add pleasures and pains, or work abstilutely in the dark. 118. 1 have, 1 think, said enough t.. show that the rejection of all calculations about pleasure is not a simple iiuestiou, and THE SIPREME GOOD AND THE MORAL CRITERION 113 that it would necessarily lead to a good deal of doubt — almost amounting to positive denial— of the possibility of our acting rationally at all. But we may carry this line of argument further. The only reason which we have found for doubting the legitimacy ot such calculations is that they involved the addition ot intensive quantities. Now if it should be the case that the oi>posed theory of ethics, which would have us take |>erfection as a c ritcrion. also requires the addition of intensive quantities, we should have got, at the least, an effective argument (ileasure as a criterion, exce|>t the theoiy which holds that the good is shown us by immediate intuiti\e judgments, which, as we have seen above*, rejects all criteria wliatever. Even that (»ther form ot In- tuitionism. which maintains that we are immcOI) AND THE MClRAL CHITERIOX poll acts more perlVftlv tiiJiii a man wh«» viites against his coiisci-nr.. fV,r a briKM.-, and that a i.uii. who votes according to his cni.scicnce acts more }MTtfctly than one who stays awaiy —then wr are either talking about .luaiitities or about ii-ithmg. Ana thrsf. (|iiantitie9 are clearly intensive. The (iiff.::'rerice liet^vecii nii- perl^'ct.ioii an«l another cannot be Ji third pjrteetion. The inromi tlrt«- -tai:.-< of jitTiectioii, which, on tins theory, must be the immediate ends between whicl. we have to cliou>e, are cinaiitities then, and intensiw <|uantities. D.h's the regnljition of tMir conduct require that th. -y shoidd l>e added a„d subt.racted ! AKaii.: I *'l' ► n*'.t se.- how this ca,n be denied, 120. A boy is Ut hv sent to i »ne iif two seliools. At A he will get better inanii.i- and a jiur.-,- T^afin styh-. than he would at //. But at B he will acjuire li;ibit-< of greater in(histry, and greater bodily vigour, than h.' wi.uld at ,/l. How is the question t.. be riecided. with iM.rf.-cti. »n a,s the criterion ^ 1 have alrej.dv tri.-.i t.. -how in the preceding part ot tins chapter that it cannot hv .heided at all on such principles, since we have absolutelv no data to enable u- to guess wh.-ther a particular Kngii^i l)oy, in HKJl, will lie nearer to the suiireme g(MKl with in.lustiy and bad manners, or with good manners and iridoliJK-e. lint supposing this obstacle got over tlie mic.vss nt the method wouli I tht -n deiiend entirely on our 1 Hiing able to add intensive quantities. For here yo,i have tno rh-mmts of ijeriection—maruM.ix. and Initio >tyle-^on the one hand, and tuo n.ore rhmmts-^industiy and Inwlily vi-our-^on the other. And nnU-x th.- prrfretion^ attain-d at A havcii sum which can be cmpared witli th.- >nin of the p.rt^ctinns attained at H. voiir action will be absoliit. •!}■ unreasonable, on whichever scliool y«»ii may docide. N,,r would it In • fair to ati.nipt ht evadr tlii^ bv saying that perfeetions i»f dianut- r cannot be takon as unii> which can lie agj^r,,.^a.ied <»r o|:>poj*ed, l>ut slioul«l 1.m* considenijd as tbriiiiiig a unity. No »loubt thi- i- irur of ab>olute prrh-etion. All moments which form |.ai1 of tlie supreme goiwl are not i»idy compatible, but rsM ntially and indi>solubly connected in the supn in. - -ood. In the sui»nmr good wliat. -ver elements cor- respond to those imprtcct goo"' ' 121. And thus it would si^i-ni that ethical criteria in general must shaiv tho f:it<' of the h»-doni<- criterion. F«»r the oidy seriosition, as I havo endeavoured to show alM.ve', is as » Section 101. 8—2 116 THE SUPREME GOOD AND THE MORAL CRITERION d. St nut i v.- to ethics in anoth.r way, since it destroys all pos,si- biluy of saying that any .-K.ral judgineiU .s »'-««-^ And not onlv .thios, but all regulation of conduct with regard to conseMU- ■>.. s, seems equally involved. J'-r what conseouenee of :..tio„, which we can ngard as valuabl., has ,. . till 7 Ami liiiw eiiii wr art rationiuly with , '. ...j.^a tKo iliffi'i-piit ii»U*iisi%'e quiintities regard to coiisi-'jutiif"'*^. uiiltsH tru' nin< u ni iiii^i-nji* ^ | in^ diiereiit sets of .•ouMfi|ueoces can hv i'oniiarfil ? 122. Let u» now consider wlieth*T thi' arguments whicn liwl ti. such a ncKutivr result are nally valid. I leasuri's of dit!erer.t intensities, it is true, II.. doubt, that th- ^-xeess of A ovrr // is i«ot a pleasnre. For w. .arn.ot inuiKine that iiart of the intensity ot A existing by itself Its meaning dt.,>ends on Us being in ,. .■ ;»i. »K., „.«♦ .,f I's inti'iisitv. It would l)e IN >n d »i natn >n with t he i est oi .is n 1 1 « • ■ ■ »* * . meaningless to ask what th- h.at of an av^raj,- -lune day would be like aft.r th- h.at ol an av.-,agu 1 iccvn.l..r -lay ha.1 l,..,.n subtia.;l.>.l frou. it. Th-- ivn.ain.l.T would ••.as.- to b.' what it had been, as soon as it was s.i>aratfd from the oth>r iMirt, But although the i-xerss of A> intensity ovi-r B is not a l»l*'a-un., 1 Milnnit that it is, nrv.rthrlrss. ph'asuiv. Whaitever has i|uantitv nuist be hoiiiogenruiis in n'sjHM-t of s..nii- quality. aiifl i> onlv" ^,ua,ntitativt' in r.'siM,:'€t of that honiogrnrous .,uality. If theift.»n' |»leasure has an intrn>i\v (juaiitity, thi'ii each part of that .juaytity must !».. pleasun •.including that part by which it is greater than jinotli.-r. If then the .•xc.'>s ..tint. iisity .►fil over // is ph-asuiv, and a <|uantity, it must U- capable ..tin iug brought into numerical relations with other ipiantitirs of pleasuiv. And thus, while it is true that wi- cannot imagim* that, cxc«-s> a> a s« 'jiarate plra.urc, wc can imagine a separate pl.MSinv which shall be oqnal to th:it ./xce>s. If tlii«> i- callnl r', then we shall l»e able t.» say tliat th*- [ileasure in A is e.pial to the pleasure ill a liiid ( •. And tliis is all that i> w;inted tor tlie hedonic criterion, 1 niust cnnfe-ss that I tind no ditficulty in making such judgments, and that they -./em t.> me to have a periectly THE SUPREME GOOD AND THE MORAL CRITERION 117 definite meaning. I feel no hesitation in affirming that the pleasure I get from a plate of turtle-soup is mon> th^m twice the pleasure I get trom a plate of pea-soup, or^that the pleasure I get from miding a new novel, together with the pam ot a h^t walk to g.t it. leaves a balance of pleasure greater than the pleasure from reading an old novel off my shelves. Ot course I mav make mist^ikes over these judgments. But mistakes can be nmde almut extensive quantities also. I may judge A to be siK f;.et high, when he is really an inch less. But this does not prevent hi^ h.i^ht from having a real and detimti' relation to the length of a vani-measure. 123 Tlie eertaintv of any imrticular judgment as to an intensive rpiantitv, and\he minuteness to which such judgments can be canied, is tar less, certainly, than is the case with jiidg- iiients m to space. <,r as to anything which can l>e measured by iiieans of s|Kitial standards. It would be impossible to s^iy with anv contide.ice that one pleasure was lill times as great as ,uiotlK-r or even e.nwthi twice as great. This has sometimes bee.i taken a. a proof of the im,K.ssibility of the hedonic cri- terion. But it is nntair to argue t.on. the imp.ssibility of absolute certainty or exactitude in any chtss of judgments tliat tlie judgments are without any meaning, and that there ^sno olijective truth t<. which the judgments appiv»ximate. Ihis wouhi render all juc!onism.ft>riRMm,' rver iiiistokes iiiteiwe pain for intense BkiisiiR., while i«l.Hls of perlerticn have been >m .hrt.m.t and iiiccmifKitiblc thiii, who.vvr .s nght, nuu.y iKM.,>le niu.t have ii.i.tiiken gn-at defects fi »r great ex(vllrn*-i.'>. ^ But thi-rv s*M-ins no rmmn for siipjiosing that our estnnates of pleasures and iMiins ai-e so inacciinite m to bi^ usi-less. We all maki- thr>r .•stimates many times daily-even those of ns who do not a,ccept them a^ ...oral criteria. Can it he a,s.erte to<,k the course whieli 8,,,,me.l to him in a,ntieipatiun t.» lie less pleasant? Siipi>osing that on the next Bank HoIid;iy, every per>on wh<. should think that he would erijuy K,>,,ing F.»rest niore than Hamp«tead Heath, should nevri-lho|.>s -o to Hampstea.i, is there any d-aibt that th.re \Mnih\ be a net !r->s of |»leastire? Mucli uncertainty and error thm- certainly is in ..ur .•-tin. ales. Hut tlie «»nly fair eonse.|uenrr to draw from this is that th.- conduct of human life is often a di.ubtful and .litficult n.att.^r. And this conclusion is neither novel nor absurtl. 124. We ntiw piss on to thr third division of the subject. Even if pleasure gives n- :i wiWrmi which is applicable, does it give us onr which is correct { The suiirenie gtMM'i as .letineci at th.> beginning of this chapter, inay be analys.-d mt... two moments. On the mc hand each individual ha.s a nature, wlio>r satisfactic»n he postulates. ( >„ tlie ,,tlier h.uid, tile rr-lati..n of each individual with others is such that it satisties th.' natures of all of tli.in. This analysis of th.' supn-iiH' reality, wha-li is also the suprnnr good, is^not thr onlv ..ur which is possible. Indeed it may hv >aid that it is not: a prfrctly adtMjuale analysis, sinco it ;(iv»'> a jtrnuaey t.o t-hc nature of the indiviilmd over tlie naiiuv of thr wliol,. which mi-r.j.rrs.iits the peifrctly eipial and recijirocal rrlution m- dicatrd in tlie Absolute Idea. But it i>. 1 think, tlie^^inost adetpiate aiial\"si> of ;ih>olute nndity wliich is possible iV)r Ethics. Ethics is based < in the idea of Volititin— an idr-a which the .Logic .allows us IS transcended by the Al)solute Idea-^and cannot rise above the virvv of reality undrr the category of Volition, the |)eculiarity i »f which is exa,ctly this over-emiihasis THE Sl'I'RKME HOOD AND THE MORAL CRITERION 119 on the nature of the individual as compared with the nature of the whole'. The imperfection by whirh we fall short .>f the supreme p, Kwl is two-fold. On the one hand the ideals of which we |»o-tulato the tultihnent an* in-t absolutely the same ideals which would bi' h)und in a statr of |,ern'Ction. On the other hand the id.'als which we h;iv.' are not com|>h'ti^ly satistierthy guide. Hut tli'.T.- is th.. other i-l.n,...it iu the supren..- g.HMl to be conM.l.T.-.l. tMir id.-als must be dev..l..iKKl m..r.. tuUy as w',11 .IS ,„.>,■.• .-...Mi.l.t.-ly satisfied. An.! t.. this element the .•rit.ii..n of happin-ss has ,... iK.c..s.sary or unif..rm relation. V..rv otUMi. in.l.-.l. a man is i.-.l by -l.sir. lur h.s own happii..'s.H to acti....s which devil.,p his i.l.als f.wanls perfecti.Mi. A man with a c.Ttain tasl. I..r music. f..r e.xanipl.-, may be ,l,.sir..us ..f th.- int. MS,, hai.piness which music gives t.. those whose ta.st- is n.orc .l.v..l.,p..l, and n.ay consequently g.ve such time and attenti..n t., it, as wli n.aUo his last.- purer and n.orc subtle than b..f.,re. ( »r, agan., without any des.r.' I.,r a higher ' Cp. S«ction» 276—279. 120 THE SUPREME C300D A.N0 THE MORAL CRITERION musical ideal, he may give his attention to rausic simply to fiatisfy the desire which he jilready has for it. and may, through the knowledge and experience thus gained, find that his appreciation of music has become more discriminating and more intense. Very often, again, a man develops his own ideals by his desire for the happiness of othere. If he edue;it«s himself in onler that he may siipjx »rt his fiarents, or serve his country, he will probably find that one ctlrct of his e< lucation has been to develop his ideals of knowledge and beauty. Again, benevolence is a disposition which increases by being indulged, and one fesult of acting for the happiness of others is often to desire that happiness more kr«'n!y than before. There are also the i^a-.-s where the agent's action is (lirtM'!ted to iniproviiig the ideals of another persersoii iniprox'ed, or of a thinl |M?rsiin. Much of the moral education of children falls under this head. In sornt* casis, no doubt, a quality is inculcated because it is thought desirable per «e, but very frecpiently thf reaison is to !>» • found in a consideration of the fiiture happiiit ^> of the child, or < >f the people with whom it will a^M„>ciate in aft:.er life. i2S. But there are cases in which the hedonic criterion would 'by iKi means lead us to the development of what we should regatl a.s a high-r i.kal. It is iru. that, if wo accept Hegels principles, and if \\v >vi- reastiu t.o include aui(»ng them the inunortality of the individual, w*- >hould be iMjund to hold that every heightening of the ideal would eventually mean increased hajjpiness. For happin«'ss dejiends for its amount, not merely on the completeness witb wbich the environment answers to our ideals, but also on the vividness and completeness of thoM' idrals. The more numerous and the more earnest are our wishes, the hai>i)ier we shall be in their satisf^iction, if they air satisfied. The mi»n- eompli'tely we are self-conscious individuals, the gn-ater will be the happiness and the misery of which we are capable. Since the i-rid of the time-pr(„>ce8S will be absolute harmony, we nia\ saf^ -ly assert that anything which makes our ideals more perfect will in the long run be ..( J THE SUPREME GOOD AND THE MORAL CRITERION 121 the cause of greater happiness, since it will increase the intensity of our demands, and so of their eventual satisfaction. But although the complete development of our ideals might be known a priori to involve the greatest happiness, it does not follow that the hedonic criterion would lead us in the direction of the complete development of our ideals. For this coinciilenee of development and happiness is only known to be certain in the indefinitely remote futur«Na f\ituri' fVir too remote to be known by any empirical calculations. We may be certam that complete development will mean complete happiness. But it liy no means follows that, if we aim :it the greatest happiness which we can perceive to be Mttainablc by our pn-riit acti.m, we shall l)e aiming in the (linrtiun of complete elopnient. 127. And there arc many cases in which wr should judge that the (Irvt-lopment of our ideals w..uld indicate a course whieli would rather diminish than increax- liapf.iness. A man is generally admitted to be nearer to perfection in projiortion as his lovrot truth, or his concern for the happiness of others, inrn-.ises. A!kI yet the love of truth may force us to change Ver\ ccMuforting beliefs tor very depressinir r»nes. And ui s*> impritect a stiitr as thf present increiised sympathy tor the hjii»pin-ss or misery of others often proilnces moi-e misery than happin.'ss fV.r the symi)athiser. Of course the hed-^nie erit.rinn does not take account of the i.leasure of the a^^.'ht <.nly. l)ut ( »f all peoph- who are at!V'eie.l by thr aeti..n. This mak« -s a considerable tlifference, tor it not intVe.piently happens that a development which makes a jHison more miserable makes him also more usefid. But there are cases wheiv the opposite happ-ns. To lose a false, but insi)iriting, beliel may diminish a man's utility as well as his happiness. And. if my chances of heli.mg others juf t.w, an increase of beneviilence .»n my part may deprive me .if mucli more happiness than it enables me t.j bestow ujM>n «»thers. There are cireumstances in which an exelusiv*- reganl for happiness would leail ns n<»t only to shrink from .levelopment, but aetuallv to endeavour to fall back in the scale. It would M-oaaa -• - ^■•■ilESaV 122 Till SUFEEME GiM >D AM) THE MORAI. riUTERION he ge'nerally admitli-ii tlmt a man whi» was chronically under the iniiience of dnigs had fi'iUon, so far as his ideals went, 'below the level oC a niiui whu kejit hh intellect and will iinclon(lr-(1. And there are nit-n whose pliy.-ii-al and mental sneeririgs are si,i greMt that tliey woiilil l)e hafijiier— « »r at leiwt less imhapiiy^if t.hey were kept CMntinualh- drugged with -tpiates. Tliis nii^lit increase not <.nly their «nvn happi- ness, but liappiii-- i.i geiiemljor a n..an who is in great and (M,„.rant pain is not likely U i cause much p'h-Msure^ to anyone. whili ! his conditi.iu uill cei-tainly cause pain lo liis triends. There a,re thus cases in which ih-- hedoni." ci-iteriDii would direct us to a g^jd which, as far a.s we can see, is. in respect of the cither moment e.f tlie supreme grHwl, so.net lung 1« wer, and not higher than the starting-poii.t. Vwlv such eir- cuiu>ta,nees not i>ut l;iirly if it i^ i-ejiresented as II choice between liajiiiiness ans is not l)y its* -It the sui»reme go'id, l)tit any ha.piiiness. so far a- it gors, is goml, and any ahsenee of happiness bad. This eon»es out mofr eleaHy if we take r\amj>les in which the iia|*pines,s at stJike is ur»t that of the agent. For so much sin nmies fn.m attaching excessive weight t«i the hapjiuiess of th*' sinner, and nit.rality ha- to eherk >elf-interrst so much oftener than to encourage it, that we are a|>t to tall into the delusit»n tliat happine>s sh« Milil mit l>e measund against develop- ment. But if we ask wh. 'tlu-r I ought always to ch.iose to slightlv elevatr- another person's ideals, at the cost of great sufieririg to him. e.r if 1 «.»ught always to clioose to slightly elevate my own ideals, at. the r..-t of great suffering to some one else, it becomes clear that happiness and ilevelojunent are ethical I V c*»m mensurable, anare such elements with any hope of disc«»vering which wiis the most desirable. And in this case the difficulty is greater than m any other, because we are comiiaring the two primary elements, which exhibit the greatest heterogeneity to be t^umd in the content of the g*M>d. How misend)le would civilized men have to be, before it w..uld be better for tliem to change th*'ir state for that of happy savages f How much more misery would make it worth their whih' t<» are.pt the passivity of oysters ? 129. Common Sense generally deals with this class of quotions by judging that a great change for the goo*! in one element will counterbalance a moderate change for the bad in the other. It would aiii.rove of a man wlio sought refuge from extreme physical pain in drugs which left his mintl slightly less clear, but rK)t of one who paid tliis price to avoid a slight dis- cotnfort. It would e.nint a keen insight into fallacies as good, althiMigh life wa> there])y made somewhat m..re dreary, l)Ut not if the result was to destroy entirely the hai»|»iness of the thinker, and to injure the haijpiness i>{ his friends. 130. But such a p..sition as tliis is theoretically indefensible. It implies that we have s..me means .»f knowing, within very broad limits, how much ha|»i)iness will be more worth having than a given degivr of development. Anil it is nn[Missible to settle this. On tlu- «.ther hand the position is so vague that it has verv little practiced vahie. For, in most of the cases which present them-elves, thi- gains and lo>s.s are n«»t so extreme in pro[»orti..n to one another as to allt)W ( 'otmnon Sense to give an opini«>n at all. The matter can oft.n b'- s.ttii <1, no ^s ..r tli.- mi-«.'ry than we are of the advance towaid>. or the retreat trom, th.- goal ot a prifectly develoi,ed ideal. But tlii> is not idways true. It sometimes ballpens that th.- retrogression in develoi>ment, whicli accom- mnies the inena-ed happims--. s.Mins b. yond all doubt. 131. To >um ujj^we liave -^r.n that a moral criterion is necessary, if any sincere ethical judgment i^ to be pronounct^d 124 THE SUPKEME GOOD AND THE MORAL CRITERHXV either riglit or wrcm^r— that is, if morality is to have any objectivity at all. We have si-en that the possible criteria apiM:'iir to be confined to pleastire and jM^rft^ction. We have seen that |)erfection breaks down, if we attempt to use it in this way. " Pleasure, on the other hjiiid, does seem to be m p<;»ibie criteria »n-difficult, indeed, to apply, but offi?ring no greater difficulties thiui thow which appear to be inherent m ethics. But when we enquire if it is n correct criterion of the mmd. we find that it only measures <.ije of the two elements inki which tlie go* m1 mar be analysed. There are tour p«»»il>l«- e;i>«*<. In the first, the action to which thi* hedoiiic eriti/rion would guide us, involves in our judgment ii greater develt»pment of idejds. In tliis case it is clear that we should take this counse, since bf.t.h elements ..f the gofMl are increased. In the second case, our acti«»n, whichever way wc"' act, will as for as we ran s.-t' make no diffi,*rence to the dexelopuient of ideals. Here ti m we can safely abide 'by the hedonic criterion, sinee that measures tin* only element of the good which our deci>ion can be seen t«> af!ret. In the t.hird case, our action may make a considei-alile ilifl^rence h* the devel* >pni.ent of our ideals, but we are unable U tell whether the dit!^'rence will be for good or for evil Once more we shall do well to f;>llow the hedonic criterion. For then, at an\- |-ati\ we shall gJiin in respect of one element of the gtMxl. We iiwry iiuleed losr mueh more in respect of development. But then we tuatf gain in resjiect of that element also. Since the effVct on lirvelopment is unknown, the only »ti*»nal course, if we n,iust. act. is to h* guided by tlie effect on happiness, whieh is known. But in the fourth cast* thr course to which the hedonic criterion woidd guide us has in our judgnn/nt an unfavourable efli'ct i»n the development of ideals, as compared with the alteniative course. In this rase tlirn- s.-.ins no reasonable solution. F* ir we cannot estimate the (piantity of loss, to de- velopment, and, if we eouhi, uf are ignorant of the common standard bv wliich lliis eoiild be ««»mpared with the gain in %i: ill' f pleasure. THE SUPREME GOOD AND THE MORAL CRITERION 125 132. In considering how much uncertainty this brings into ethics, we must remember once more that the question is not limited to the pleasure arnl the devehipment of the agent but includes the consideration of the pleasure and development of all people affected by the action. This diminishes the number of cases of the fourth class, for the hajipiness a man gives is generally more closely |)ro|)ortioned to the dev»*loj>inrnt ol" his ideals than is the happiness h«^ • 'ujoys. And, again, we must i-einember that the object «)f a moral criterion is strictly practical. Its object is to guide our action. It follows from this that it is eomparatively unimportant if it fails to indicate which of two events would be the better, in those eases in which our aeti<»n cannot bring about or hiniler either alternative. It is no doubr (-.nvenient to know what would be gain an«l what Imss, Imt the real need to know arrives ordv when our knowledge can help us to brin*,' alxiut the gain or avoid the loss. Now the devrlojiment of our ideals is, in many ciLses, entirely out of our jM.w.r, to help or hinder. It is possible that a man might jret nior*' pleasure if he couKl retain his cliildish taste for swiciinrats, and avuiil llie growth of a taste for claret. At any rat*- he coiild satisfy himsrif at K'ss expt-nse. But no efforts, on his own jMirt or that i>i his t» -achers, will prevent tlie relative |)lae<*s of swcrttneats and claret in the scale of j»h 'asur.s being different for the average man from what they were ti»r the avmige hoy. It is possible, agaai. that the g»n«'ral religions attitude of the twelfth centnr\ gavr a t^nater balance of [>leasure than was given by the general religious attitude of the nineteenth century. But if the majority liad known this beforehand, and had acted on the most rigidly Utilitarian |trinei|)l«-s, roidd their united efforts liav.- avertrd the KmaisNancf, tie; Kef«>rmation, or the Illumination ? Our desires have a dialectic of their own, and no finite ideal can >aii>ty us indefinitely. Some we transcend as soon as we have attained tln-m. For ..th.rs a period of .-njoymrnt is neees- sary before they jiall. In other cases, again, tlie mere tiesire for ail unattained ideal seems to be sufficient to demonstrate, ii 1 126 THE SUPKEME UOOI) AKD THE M< HIAT. CRITERION after a time, its iiiiiclefnuicy. Our volition hm, m doubt, a certain iiifliiru'''- on this process. But tl'ii-n- an* iiiiiny cases in which it would, prcM-t'ed in sjiiH' of all cmr eff (fts to restrain it. And evi'ii if in these cases, the proc.-- should diminish happiness, w«' sliould do but little harm if wr directed our action bv the h* •donic criterion. Fur, while such action would be mistaken, it would 1».' ;tls.. im-ffective. 133. But after all thesr .If.luctions it remains true that there are cases of the ftjurth dam m which our decisions will liave a docisivr fffi-ct on thi' rvsult, and that ethics otiers us no principle u|,.*on which to make the (i»-«-i ieftivelv iM-ttiT than the other'. One of the two finit.- an«l niconi|»atilih- ^>hhU ^tlie (larlicular gain in |»h*asure, or the particular gain in development of idesds — would raise us nearer to the supr-«*iiie gucwi than the other. Tliis is the one to be accepted. But. since they have ii<» connnou standard but the supreme good, we couhl only couipai** theiu if we knew the exact relation of each of llieni to tlie >uj)reine good, and this we do not know. 134. The imiM»ssibility of decision arisen, tlien, not fi*om the facts of tile case, but froiii our ignorance about them. Now ever}' system of r-tliics. with the exe.-ption of those which believe in an inimediaie and unerring miuition for ev«^'ry jMirtJeular clioiee. must liolti that there are some cases wliei-e it; is inijM.-;>ible t-- -re what the best course is. If we lake the hedonic criterion, then* an* cases in which the alternative actions seem to pri'sefir sucli f«|ual halancoN of pleasure that it is impossible to see whicli is tlie gn-ater. If we take |iertection, two in,con,i{>atilile giMxls may sreni so equally good that no r»-aNMn ran 1m- tound tV»r choice. Indeed an ethical 8Vst*:m wliich denied that ilie liesi a,nd wisest men were •' Tli«"re \n of cowrHf the alwtraet iM,»8'sihility c»f lh«' (jfurKl produced by each iilli'nuiiivi' bi'iiiK t'Kiiflf/ fijuftl. But tin- chuiu-*- <»f thi- i< i«»u FiiiaU to l>e worth COii»it.i«'riii|.'. And, if it did ocrur, it U obvious tiiat we could not go wrong, whatevt-r wt- »lid, whifli would not bt: an ungalisfactory conclufiion. r THE SUPREME G()< >D AXD THE MORAL CRITERION 127 soni.times compelled U) act utterly in the dark would be in glaring contradiction to the t^icts of liR'. Then- is .mly one difference between the difficulties I have described above as arising .>n my theory and these others which exist on any theory. Thi; latter are merely .piantitiitive. They arise from the comj)lexity, or the (Mjuality, of data whose nature is not incompatible with a reasoned ther hand, the problem is one to winch the only methods ..f decision possible to us, in our present imperfect Stat"', do not apf»ly at all. Mv theorv does thus involve rather more ethical scepticism than the others. But this is of no importance in practice. Ftir in pnictice the important point is n«it to know the reason whv soiiir m<»ral problems are insoluble. Practice is only con- crn.-d to en.piire how many, and how serious, are the insoluble problems. 135. And, fortunately, the attainment of the gocKl does not ultimately deprnd upon action. If it did, it might be rather alarming to tliink that there w«rr certain cases in which we did not kn<»w how to act. Uut, after all, if it did depend on action, things would be so bad on any theory of ethics that mitior differ- ence> would l)e unimportant. If the nature of reality was hostile or inditlerent t<. tlie good, n*.thing but the m.)st me-agre and transitory gains could ev,r lu- made by creatures so weak and insignificant as we shouM be in such a univ.rse. I Jut if, as Hegel teaches u-, that whirli wo recognize- as tli.- supremo good is also the supreme nalify, then it must inevitably realise itself in the ti-mporal pmerss, and n«» mistakes of ours can liinder the advance and the evi-ntuai attainm.nt. 136. There is therefor.* nothin- in this oeeasional failure of the i.nlv availablo crii.rion which -liould make us think nii ire meanly of reality, or more hofM^lessly of the g«MKl. And we shouli! r.Mint it a gain, and not a loss, if it emphasises the iiuidelutely real or the absolutely gcMxl. CHAPTER V. PUNISHMENT. 137. We may define punishment as the infliction of pain on a person because he has done wrong. That it must be piinful, and that it must be inflicted on a person who has done, or is thought to have done, wrong, will be generally admitted. But we must also remember that it is essential that it should be inflicted became of the wrong-doing. In the children's books of an earlier generati».n, the l)oy who went out without his mother's leave was struck by lightning. This cannot, urdess theolo*,'y is introduceil. be considered as a punishment. For the lightning would havt- struck with e<|ual readiness any boy on the same spot, although provided with the most ample |)arental auth(»rity. And mon- modern and pretentious works, while less amusing, are not more accurate. They speak of the rewards and punishments which Nature herself distributes an»(>ng us. But Nature^the Nature of science and conim..n sense— though she often destroys, n«!ver punishes. F'or the moral value of an action makes n<» diff*erence to her. She takes n«» account of intention or purpose. She destroys, with a magniticent indifl'erenct*, alike the man who has injured his be drtrnded is that it is deterrent. It is desirable to supjiress wn »ng-doing. And so we try to attach to a fault a punishment s«> certain, and so sevtre, that the remiiidininee <»f it will prevent the offiinder trom otlVnding again, while th.- trar of a similar punishment will deter others from a similar crime. We must mark here an imixirtant distinrti..n. In these tm^o cases the object which justitieil « n\r aetion eouhl only be obtained by i»niiishnient. In the first, abstract justice was supimscd to recpiin' that the man shnnld be mad*' unhappy. In the s.cund (•m>«*. it is clear that vou can nnly detrr — that is. frighten— men trom crime liy making its cMnsefiuences painfiil. But n«»w wt? i-jmir to tw.i other uses of punislunent which do not de|M!nd on its l).'ing |>aintul, but tni «»ther C|ualities which the paiticular jiunislimenl hai.i.ens t«. possijss. The first of these is tha,t it may depriv.- tlir rriminal ihkIt punishtn.ni of thi- chancf ..f e.inimitting fresh erinns. A man cannot steal while he is in prisou^. norconunit imirder— in this life—iiftiji- he lias lji-t:*n hangeii Bul^ tins I'tlect does n(,»t eoim- because the man h;:w been i.iuuisht;'d. If he wi-lcomed in.iiiris«>n- ni.ent or death gladly, they w.in,le e< inallv preventive of erinn '. Tilt' >reond of tliesr further aiivantages ot punishment is the reiorniation of the criminal. This dins not nuaii that the punishment frightens him from ofieiiding again. That is the deterrent etieet, of which we spoke lietiire. But a punishment may sometimes i-eall\' cure a man of his vicious tendencies. The solitude which it gives him for reflection, or the religious influences which may be brought to bear on him in prison. or the instruction which he may receive there, may give hmi a h(»rror of vice or a love of virtue which he had not before. But if his punishment does this, it is not as a punishment. If his character is, by such means, changed for the better, that change is not made because he wa.s unhappy. Thus, for reformation, as well as for prevention, punishment may be a useful means, but only incitlentally ; while it is only by means of punishment that we can avenge a crime, or deter men from lepratint; it. 139. Of late vears we have almost given up the theory of vindictive punishment, both in law and education, though it is still retained in theology l>y those who accept the doctrine that punishment may be eternal. The onlinary view of the use of punishment in law is, I take it. that its main object is deterrent— to prevent crime by making the possible criminal afraid of the punishment which would follow. Its preventive use— of checking crime by restraining or removing pers-.ns who have alrradv pn»ved themselves criminals— is also considered imiMirtant, but in a hssrr degree. Finally, if the state can reform the criminal while punishing him, it considrrs itself bound to try; but th«- [irimary object t»f criminal justice is held to be the protection of the innocent rathei- than the iin[)ro\ement of the guilty, and theref^»re the discouragement of crime is taken as of more imi.ortance than the reform of the criminal. Cai»ital punishment, indeed, is still som«!times defended on the ground of vindictive justice, but more often as lieing d«'terrent of crime on the [lart of others, and a safeguard against its repetition by the jKirticular criminal executed. And in <»ther cases vindictive jiunishment has dropped out of law, and, perhajis, still more out •►f educatit»n. There is no tendency to the contrary in Sir James Stephen** ingenious defence of the vindictive pleasure that men feel in punishing atnu-ious criminals. He defends that pleasure on the ground that it renders their punishment more certain. But he does not recommend that a man should be punished 9—2 PUNISHMENT merely 'becaiise lie has done wrong. He only iays that, in mam where piinishmeut is ciesinible for the good of society, it is idvisable to cultivate any feelings which will lead people to exert themselves to bring that punishment about, 140. We have now seen what the ordinary view of punish- ment is. My object is to consider what relation to this view is held by Hegel's theory of punishment, as expressed in his Philosophy <»f I^iw. It has often been said that he supports vindictive punishment. And, at first sight, it looks as if he did. For he expressly says that it is superficial to regard punishment us protect iv<» to society, or as deterring or im- proving the criminal. Now in so far as it is not protective or deterring, we must give up the theories which we have called the preventive and the deterrent. In so for m it is not impr*>viiig, we must give up the reformatory theory. Hegel dws not ikuj that punishment may deter, prevent, or improve, and he dcM's not »leny that this will be an additional mlvantage. But he says that none id these are the chief oliject of punislnn< lit, and none of these express its real nature. It woiilil si*em, therefore, that he must intend to advocate vindictive punishuieut And this is confirmed by the fact that he exjiressly says the object of punishment is not to d< > *' this or that " gocM'l. Nevertheless, I btlirve that I lejjiel had not the slightest intention of advocatinix wliat wi* hav** called vindictive punish- nienl. For he s.ssibility of doubt, that in imnishment the criminal is to be treated as a nnjral being — that is, niH' who is iMitentially moral, howevrr immoral he may be in liict, and one in whom this potential morality must l>e called into actual existence. He conifilains that by the de- terrent the<»ry \\v treat a mun liki' a dog to whom his rnastcT shows a whi[», anorters of this doctrine would deny the i»ossibilit y of repentance in hell, since they «leny the possibility «)f [>anlon. 141. What then, is Hegel's theory ? It is. I think, briefly this. In sin, man rejects and defies th»' moral law. Punish- ment is pain inflicted on him bt'cansr liu h:us done this, and in order that he may. by the fact of his punishment, be forecd into recognizing as valitl the law which he rejected in sinning, and so repent ot his sin — really repent, and not merely be frightent"! out of doini^ it again. Thus the *ibject t.f punisliin.nl is that the criminal should rejx'nt of his crime and by so ry theory of |)urushment wliieh Hegel hits rejeeted. But thi-re is a great deal ..f diflerence between them. The retormatury th.^rv says that wr ought to reform our crinunals while wr an- ininishing them. Hegel says that punishment, as sjich, ten.Is to reform them. Th** reformatorv theory wishrs to pain criminals as littlr as jMKssible, and to imiirove them as much as poasible. Hegel's theory saiys that it is the pain which will improve 134 PUNISHMENT PUNISHMENT 135 them, and therefore, although it looks on pain io itself as an eviUsbyBomearisanxioustospreit. When Hegel sajs. then, as we saw above, that the object of piniishiiient is not to effect " this or that good." we must not, I think, take him to mean that we do not look for a good result from punishment. We must rather interpret him to mean that it is iic»t in consequence of some accidental gotxl result that punishment is to be defended, but that, for the criniinal, punishment is inherently goml. The use of " this i>r that " to express an accidental or ctinlin,gent giMxl seems in aeeoixlance with Hegel's usual terminology. And we must also renieiiiber that Hegel, who hated many things, hated ui.thing more bitterly than 8eiitinn»ntal humanitarianism, ami that he was in con- seciuence innn- inclined to emphasise his divcrifenee li'om a reformatory theory of punishment than his agreement with it. We have thus reiMihed a theoiy «|uite different from any of the four which wv started this chajiter by ce .leiiied. But, eve.i if it were the ultimate evil, w*' could not assert that it was always wrong to intlirt it. For tliat woul.l be equivalent to a declaration that a dentist was as criminal ;is a wite-beater. N.» one ean denv that the infliction of i>ain may in the long run increase haiqmie>s-i.s in the extraction of an aching tooth. If pain, in spite of its bein- ivil per se. can thus l>e de>,rable as a means, the general objection t.. pain as a moral agent would seem to le pain, as such, which can lead to rei.eiitance. If I get into a particular tram, an.i break mv leg in a collision, that cannot make me repent my action h/ going by the tram, though it will very possibly make me rej^ret it. For the pain in this case was not a punishment. It cam.-, indeed, because I bid got into the train, but not because 1 had done wrong in getting into the traiii. Hegel's theory is that punishment, that is. i)am inflicted because the suttbrer hail previously done wrong, may lead to repentance f;.r the criioe which caused the punishment. We have n.»w to consider whither this is true. The thesis is iwt that it alwavs prcHluces repentance— which, of course, is not the case— but that there is something in its nature which tends to produce repentance. And this, as we have seen, is not a conmion theory of punishment. " Men do not iHcome penitent and learn to abhor themselves by having their backs cut open i \ 1S6 PUNISUM.ENT PUNISHMENT 137 Willi the laah ; rather, they learn to abhor the lash '." That the principle expressee niovid to repent of his action. The pnnislmient will appear to him unjust, tr» incur it will be considered as a duty, and he will consider himself not as a erirninal, but as a martyr. On the other hand, if the jnuiishiiieiit causes him to change his line of act ion, it will be due, not lo repentance, but to cowardice. Or, again, he may not regard it as distinctly immoral — as punishing him for wliat it is his duty to do. But he may regard it as non-moral— lis punishing him for what he had a right, though not a duty, to do. In tliis caM , too, punishment will iM»t leatl to reptiitanee. He will not regard himself as a niartyi, but lie will be justified in regarding himself as a very badly-treattMl pn-snn. If the punishment does cause him to abstain from sucli action in future, it will not be the result of > George Eliot, Felix Holt, Chap. xli. repentance, but of prudence. He will not have come to think it wrong, but he may think that it is not worth the pain it will bring on him. If, however, he regards the authority which punishes him as one which expresses, and which hiis a right to express, the moral law, his attitude will be very different. He will no longer regard his punishment either as a martyrdom or as an injury. On the contrary he will feel that it is the proper consequence of his fault. And to feel this, and to be able to accept it as such, is surely repentance. 145. But it may be objected that this leads us to a dilemma. The punishment cannot have this moral effect on us, unless it comes from an auth*)rity which we r.'cognize as expressing the moral law, and, therefore, Jis valid for us. But if we recognize this, how did we ever come to eonmiit the sni, which consists in a deflance of the moral law ? Does not the existence of the sin itself prove that we are not in that submissive position to the monil law, and to the power which is enforcing it, whicli alone can make the punishment a puriflcation ? I do not think that this is the case. It is, in the first place, quite possible for a recognition of the moral law to exist which is not sufliciently strong to prevent our vi.)lating it at the suggestion of our passic.ns or our impulses, but which is yet strong enough, when the punishment f«»llows, to make us recognize the justice of the sentence. After all, most cases of wrong-doing, which can be treated as criminal, are cases of this description, in which a man cleHr. a moral law which he knows ti) be binding, because the temptations to violate it are at that moment too stn.ng for his desire to do what he knows to be right. In these cases the n»onil law is, indt-ed, recognized— for the of!\'nder knows he is .K.ing wrong— but not iv.ocrnizfd with sufticient strength ; for. if it was, lie w.iuld abstain Iruoi doing wrong. And, therefori'. the moral c*>nseiou8ness is strong enough to accept tlie iMinishment as justly incurred, though it was not strong enough to prevent th. offender from incurring it. In this case, the significance of the i»unishnH nt is that it tends to produce that vividness in the recognition ol the moral PUNISHMENT' lam-, which the occurrence of the offence shows to have been previously wanting; The pain and coercion involvrtance whether we grant or deny it tlie naiiu' <»f repentance. 148. It may be ol.jected, however, that puiiishnHiit in the last two cases w.Kdd be totally unjust. W.' ougiit to jiunish, it may be said, only those acts which were known l»y their peri^.tmtnrs. at the^ini*' they did them, tn hr wnmg. And therefore we have no right to punish a man for any offence, which he did not know to \n^ an offnier, wh» th.*r because he dill not know of thr existence of the law, or because he di.l not ap[»ly it to the jiarticular case. I do n(»t think, however, that we can fairly limit the j.roper api.lication of punishment t.» cases of crmscious wrong-«loing, plausible as such a restriction may ap[)ear at tirst si-ht. We must remember, in the Hrst jilace. that ignorance of a moral hiw may be a sign of a worse moral state than that which would be imiilied in its consci(»us violation. If a man really believed that he was UK.rally justirted in treating th- lower animals without any consideration, he would n*»t be ments would be con- sciously doing wrong. A man who could see nothing wrong in cowardice would surely be nu.re degraded than one who recognized the duty of courage, though he sometimes faded 140 FtTN1SIIM.ENT PUNISHMENT 141 to carry it out. Thus. I submit, e¥en if punishment were limited to cases of desert, there would be no reason to limit it to caees of con.scioii8 wrong-doing, since the absence^ of the coi»si'i«»usnes8 of wrong-doing may itself be a mark of moral defect. But we may, I think, go further. There seems no re.iison why we should enquire about any iiuiiishment whether the (•riiiiiiial deserved it. For such a i|uestii»ri rwilly brings us 'back, if we pr«w it fiir enough, ti. thu old thiM)r}- of vindictive punishment, which few of those whu ask the ijuestion wcMild be prepared to advocate. On any other theoiy a iiian is to be punished, not to avenge the |M8fc evil, but t<» secure some future giKid. ( H vinirsv, a punishment is only to be inflicted f«»r a wrong action, f<)r the eflect of all punishment is to discourage the repetition of the action punished, and that would not be desirable unless the action were wrong. But to enipnre how far the criminal is to be blamed fiir his action seems irrelevant. If he has done wrong, and if the iniiiishmeiit will cure liim, he has, ais Hegel expresses it, a right to his punislnnent. If a dentist is asked to take out an Jifhing tooth, he does not refuse to do so, on the ground that the patient liid not delibenitely cause the tool hadir, ami that theref^»re it would be uryust to subject him to the imin of the extraction. And to ref\ise a man tile chance of a moral advance, whon the punishment appears to affonl on«\ se<'ins et|ually unrcaaonable. Indet^. any attemjit to measure punishment by desert gets us into hopeless difficult i.> If we supjiose that every man is ecpially responsible for every action which is not done under physical compulsion, wt- igiu »re the eflect of inheriteortant circumstances. Punishments measured out on such a >\>teni may, i>erhaps, be defended on the ground of utility, but certainly n<»t on the ground of desert. Again, if we did attenijtt, in fixing desert, to allow for different circn instances, desert won Id vanish jdtogether. On a deterni i nist thetirv vvery act is the inevitable result of conditions existing before the birth of the agent. If we Jidmit free will, any responsibility for the paat Wconies unintelligible. The only alternative seems to be the admission that we punish, not to avenge evil, but to restore or produce good, whether for society or the criminal. And on this principle we very often explicitly act. For example, we do not punish high treason because we blame the traitors, who are often moved by sincere, though perhaps mistaken, patriotism. We punish it because we believe that they w.uild in fact, though with the best intentions, do harm to the state. Nor do parents, I suppose, punish young children for disobedience, on the gn»und that it is their own fault that they were not born with the habit of obedience developed. They do it, I should imagine, because punishment is the most effective way of teaching them obedience, and because it is desinible that they should learn it 149. We must now return to the cases in which punish- ment can possibly produce repentance, from which we have been diverted by the ijuestion of the justice of the punishment inflicted in the second and third cases. There is a fourth and last case. In this the auth.)rity which inflicts thr punishnunt was, before its infliction, lecognized faintly and vaguely as embodying the moral law, and therefore as being ji valid authority. But the- rec(»gniti<»n was so faint and vague that it was not sufficient to [ireveiit disohedit^nce U » the authority's commands. This, it will be seen, is rather analogtnis to the second case. There the law was held s.i vaguely that the loc'ical applications of it werr never mad«'. Here the authority is'' recognized, hut not actively enough to influence cra.duct. It is scarcely so much that the criminal recognizes it, as that «>H' he is not preparwl to at may again be repentance. For ,.uni8hment ren.iers it in.r«.ssibl.- a..y longer to ignore the authority, an.l it is, by the hypoth.-sis, only by iKn.orn.g it that it can b".- .iisobeye-J. The punishnunt clearly proy.-s that the authority is ii. possession of the power. If it is pnss-.l far enough," then- ;ir. onlv t%vo alternatives-definitely to rebel and .le'clar.. the punishment to be unjust, or definitely to submit and ackn.,wledge it to be righteous. The first is impossible here, for the criminal is not prepared definitely 142 PUNISHMENT PUNISHMENT 143 to reject the authority. There remains therefore only the WJCOIiO.. Perhaps the 'best example of this statr «>f things may be found in the attitude of the lower boyn of a public school towarcls the authority of the iiiasters. Their conviction that this is a lawful and valid aiuhority does not influence them to so great an extent as to produce spontaneous and invariable (ibidicnce. But it is, I think, sufficient to prevent them from considering the enforcement of obedience by punishment as uiijiii^t, except in the ca8<»s where their own code of morality comes exi»Iiritly in conflict with the official cmle — cases which are not very frecjuent. In fiict, almost all English scho<:»l systems would break Ik- its highest fanction^that of prcnl uci ng re|ientunce — it does so by em- phasising Hioie nuniil til* which the ofl*ender was all along prepari*d to atlniit, although it was too fjiint or incomplete to prevent the fault. Thus it esstiitially works on him as, at any rate potentially, a moral a,i;rnt. and thus, a.s Hegel cxpr<— s it, di *e» him hon*»ur. It is no contradiction of this, though it may appear so at first sight, to sjiy that a punish- ment has such an eflect only by the element «»f disgrace which all d«'ser\ed punishnttiil eoiitnins. The deterrent et!ert is diflerent. A iiunishment iletei-s fr«>ni the repetition of the oflenee, not becaus*,* it is a punishment, but because it is paiiilul. An unpleasant conse<|Ueiiee which followed the act, not as the result of ni* ind & imli iiuiation, but as a merely natural effect, woidd have the same deterrent result. A man is ei|ually frightened b}' [Miin, whether lie recognizes it as just or not. And so a punishment may deter from crime (juite as eiectually when it is not reciignized as just, and consetpiently produces no feeling of disgrace. But a punishment cannot lead to repentance unless it is recognized as the fitting consecpience of a moral fault, and it is this recognition which makes a punishment appear disgraceful. 151. It is sometimes maintained that it is undesirable to attempt to emphasise the element of disgrace in punishment. es[)ecially in the education of children. We are recommended to trust princii»ally to rewards, and if we should unhappily be forc«d to inflict pain, we must represent it rather as an in- convenience which it would be well to avoid for the future, than as a punishment for an offence which deserved it. And for this reason all punishments, which proclaim themselves to be such, an- 1«) be avoided. It seems to me that to trust to the influence of the pleasures of rewards, and of the pain of punishments, implies that the fierson to be influenced is govenied by his plciisure and pain. On the other hand, to trust to the fact that his punisliment will appear a disgrace to him implies that he is, t«» >ome degree, infl net iee«l by a desire to do right; tor <»ther- wise he wouhl fi*el lu* disgrace in a j)unishment for doing wiiHig. And this s.M(.nd view of human nature is, at any rate, the more cheerful of the two. It is necessary to distinguish l)et\vren degradation and disgraer. A man is degraded by anything which lowers his moral nature. A [)unishmeiit which d.Ks this would of course be so far undesirable. But he is di.sgraced by being mad*' conscious of a moral defect. And to become con- scious of a d«t(f •scaping from the old one. It can scarcely be serinty above him, it is more calculated than other punishments PUNISHMENT to cause a feeling of disgrace. But, siippmn^ it U) be inflict^ on, the right oeawions, this is surely an advantage in a punish- ment. That it pwluees any degradation is entirely a separate asuertion. which demands a separate proof— a demand which it would he difficult to gratify. 152. But although a punishment must, to tuMl its highest end. be disgraceful, it does not follow that we can sately trust to the disgrace involved in the of!\ nee itself as a punishment--- a course' which is sometimes recommended. The aim of punish- ment is rather to prcKluce repc^ritance, and. as a means to it, disgrace. If we contenle.l ourselves with using a.s a punish- ment whatever feeling of disgrace arose iiidi?f>endently in the culprit's iiiiixl, the result would be that we should oidy affect those who were aln-ady conscious of their fault, and so reipiired jHinishin -nt least, while thoues on punishment need be nothing more introspcjctivi- or morbid than a sitnjile recoirnition that the punishment was deserved. On the other hand, an attempt to intiueiice any one— esj^cially children--by causing them to reflect on the disgnife involved in the fault itself must lead to an haliitual self-contemplation, the results of which are not unlikely to be both unwholesome to the penitents, and ofcnsive to their friends. 153. I have thus indeavoured to show that there are certain conditions under which punishment can perform the work which Hegel assigns U} it. The .|uestioii then arises. When are these conditions realised ? We find the question of punishment prominent in jurisprudence and in education. It is found also in theology, in m far as the course of the PUNISHMEXT 145 1*/ world is believed to be so ordered as to punish sin. Now it seems to me that Hegels view of punishment cannot properly be applieealing to thi' moral nature of the culprit. This inav be alwavs latent, but is sometimes tar too latent for us to succei'd in arousing it. Moreover the deterrent effect of a punishment acts not only (m the criminal who suffers it, but on all who realise that they will sufft-r it if thry commit a similar offenc*'. The purifying influence can act only on those who suffer the punishment. From these reasons it w(Mi1<1 appear that if the stat«' allows its attention to be distracted in the humble task of tVii:htriiing criminals from criroi', by the higher ambition (»f convert inj^ them to virtue, it is likely to fail in both, antl so in its fundamental object of iliminishing crime. 154 And in adiiition there seems grave reason to doubt whether, in a modern state, tiie crimes dealt with and the attitu sujjpnss by iiunishment conduct which is actuate*! by conscientious convictions of duty — as is iifli-n the case with high treason. Now in these cases the criminal has delilierately ad<»pte(i a different view ot his duty 146 PUNISHMENT ,* PUNISHMENT 147 to that en,tertain«l by the state. He is n.ot likely, therefore. to be induced to repent of his act by a punishment which can teach him nothing, except that he and the state distigree in their views of hi» duty— which he knew bei^)re. His punish- ment niav be resented bv him as unjust persecution, or may be accepted as the inevitable result of ditlerence of opinion, but can never he admitted hy him as justly deserved by his action, and cannot therefore change the wjiy in which he regards that action. liO. In the second, and much larger, class of criminal offiijnces. the same rt«ult happens, though from very ditferent reasons. The average criminal convicted of theft or violence is, no doubt, like all of us, in his essential nature, a distinctly monil being. And, even in action, the vast majority of such criminals are far from being totally depraved. But by the time a man has become suVyect to the eriniinal law lor any oience, he has generally becou'ie so far callous, with regard to that jiartieular crime, that his punishment will not bring about his repentance. The average burglar may cleju-l\' learn from bis sentence that the state objects to burglar}*. He might even, if pressed, admit that the state was, from an objective jxiint of viem', more likely to be right than he was. But, although he may have a sincere objection to murder, he is piobably in a condition wh«Te the state's disipproval of his offences with regard t-t jiroperty will rr»use no inoral remorse in him. In such a ciise re}:M?ntance is not jxissible. Punishment, can, under the ciKmrnsiunees 1 have mentioned above, convince us that we have done wrong. But it cannot insjiire us with the desire to do right. The existence of this is assumed when we punish with a view to the puritication of tlie offemler, and it is for this rea.son that the punishnii nt, as I lege! says, honours him. Wh«'re the desire t< > do right is, at an\- rate as regards one field of action, hopeh/ssly (l«>rmant, i»unishnient must fall back on its lower office of intimirtion of those offences which are dealt with by the criminal law. 156. Many offences, no doubt- esi>eciidly thos<» committal in a moment « >f passion, or by persons till then inncxjent — are not of this sort, but do co-exist with a general desire to do right, which has been overpowered by a particular temptation. Yet I doubt if, at the present day, repentance in such ctises would often result from punishment by the state. If the criminaUs independent monil will was sufficiently strong, he would, when the particular temptation was removed, rejient without the aid of punishment. If it was not sut!1ciently strong. I doubt if the ))unishment would much aid it. The function in this respect of punishment was, as we have seen, to enf»»rce on the offender the disjipproval with which his acti«»n was considered by an authftrity, whom lie regarded as e.\[)ressing the moral law. But why shouhl the mixieni citizen regard the state as ex|jnssing tin* moral law ? He does not regard it as something above and superior tt> himself, as the ancient citizen regaided his city, as the child regjirds his parent, or the religious man his (iod. The developmint «»t* individual conscience and responsil)iIity has been too great for such an attitude. The state is now for him an aggregate (»f men like himself He regards obediener to it, within certain limits, as a duty. But this is liecause matters which concern the wht»le community are matters on which the whole (•••inmunity is entitled to si>eak. It does not rest on any belief that the state can become the inter|ireter of the moral law tor tlie individual, so that his nmnd duty lies iii <-onforming his views to its jirecepts. Not oidv docs he not feel bound, hut he docs not feel entitled, to surren. r it f.»r himself, the opinion of the state will not convince him. I do not assert that there an' no ea««s in which a man finds himself in the .same childlike relation to tin* state as was possible in classical times, but they an to,» few to be of material imjMirtance. And except in such cast s we cannot expect the punishments of jurisprudence to have a purifying effect. 157. Hegel's mistake, in applying his conception of punishment to criminal law, resulted from his high opinion of 10—2 /' '/ rtL ' -f v4' f Ai PUNISHMENT tie State m against the iBdividual citizen. The mmt wgnificant feature of all his writings on the metaphysics of society is the low place that he gives to the conscience and opinions of the individual He was irritated— not^ without cause— at the follies of the writers who see nothing in morality but con- scientious etmvictioiis. or "the good will." But he did not lay enough emphasis on the ftict that, though the approval of consciiiice din-s not carry us very far, by itself, towards a satisfactory system of morality, yet ivithmd the approval of the i.Hlividual conscience no s^^stem of morality can now be satisfactory. It ha^ become impossible for any adult man to yield up his conscience into the hands of any other man or b.xly cf men. A child, in sv. far m it is youu<,' enough to be treated entirely as a child, can and ouglit to fintl its morality in the runimands of others. And those who believe in a divine revelation will naturally endeavour to i.lace themselves in an attitude of entin • subn.ission to what appears to them t.) be the divine will, whether manit^stcd through books, or through 8om.e speciiilly fovoiired organization «)t' men. But a man is not a child, and tlie state is not ( iod. A man may indeed accept the tlirection, iif a teacher whom he has chosen— even aeci'i.t it implicitly. But then this is liy virtue of his own act of chttice. Wr eamiot now accejit any i>ui ely outward authority as having, of its own right, the power of deciding for us on moral questions. 158. Heirel points nut, indei'd. in the Phenomenology, that the highest realisati.in of tlie stat.'—that in whieh it is the universal which completely sums u|» the individujils which composr it — may l.v c.nsidered as UAng in the past or the futuri', l..>ut n«»i in tin/ j)r»'sriit. But when he conies to deal with the Stat** in dt-iail he seems to U^r^ei this. Hometiinrs he aplJears to think of llrr classical stati- as not yet passr.l away. Tilt," aiirit-nl state diil, imieed, eud«*avour to stand in the same ri'lation to its citizens as the fjither to the child, or even as Ood to nniii, as is indicat.-d hy tlir wry close connection which i.xi>trd in till* ancient wi»rld bctwiM-n religion and patrititisni. But to attempt tn. Nor is there anything inconsistent with this in the authority— perhaps as strong as that of the classical state— which the church exercised during the middle ages. For the church wjis regarded as a sui)ernaturally commissioned authority. It could never have held its pcisition if it had been hn^ked on as an assembly «»f mere men. And in thi- course of years it became i*vident that even the church's claim to uiupie.stioning veneration caild not stand before the demand .4' the individual to have everything justified beftire the tribunal of his own spirit. 169. From another j^oiut of view, Hegel may be sanl to have supposed that the ideal state had already cnie. when it was still far in the future. Indeed we may go further, and say that, bv the time the state had become i.leal. it would have long cwisi'd tf) be a state. No doubt Hegel looked forwanl. and by his philosophical system was justified in Io.,king forward, to an ultimati.' ideal unity which should realise all. and far mort; than all, that the cla.ssical state had ever aimed at. He contemplated a universal so thoroughly realised in ev^-ry individual that the most c..m|)lete unity .»f the whole shoidd be conii)atible with the must .-oniplete self-.levelopn.ent of the parts. But beftire this last and highest dev. lop.nent ut reality could 1)0 reached, we should have to have behind us altogether the world r»f matter and time, which would be incompatible with such a complete i.ertection of sjiirit. Still more would it be impossible in a stage of development in which external government and criminal justice still existed. And to encourage the actual state. a> w.- see it in the world t.)-day. to assume functions justified only in the far jMst. or in the remote future, PUNISHMEHT Ae stole as ag^iinst the iodividiia! citizen. The mmt significant feature of all his writings on the metaphysics of society is the low place that he gives to the conscience and opinions of the He was irritated— not without cause— at the follies of the writers who see nothing in morality but con- scientious convictions, or "the good will." But he did not lay enough emiihasis on the fact that, though the approval of conscience does not carry us very far, by itself; towards a «itistaclory system of m >rality, yet without the approval of the individual conscience no system of morality can now be satisfactory. It has become iuipoj«ible for any adult man to yield up his conscience into the hands of any other man or body of men. A child, in so far as it is young enough to be treated entirely as a child, can and ought to find its morality in the commands of others. And tliose who believe in a divine revelation will naturjilly endeavour to place themselves iii an attitude of eiitin; submission to what ajipears to them to be the divine h ill, whether manifisted through books, or through miuii specially favoured organization of men. But a man is not a child, and tlie state is not CxL A man may indeed aecej.t the direction of a tt^acher whom he has chosen— even a€ce|it it implicitly. But then this is by virtue i.f his «.nmi act of choice. We cjuuiot now ace*pt ;iny [jurely outward authority m bafing. of its own right, the [)ower of deciding fov us on nn'iral questions. 158. Hegel points out, indeed, in the Phenomenology-, that the highest realisa.tii»ii of tlie state— that in wliich it is the uiiiv<-rsal which c<>mi»let«'ly sums uji the individuals which oompiisf it — may hr considered as being in the past or the future, but n<»t in the |irt>rnt. IJut when he c«'ni« *s to ileal with the Stat.' in detail he srmis to tiirget this. Si.inetimes he apfM'urs to think of tlie classical state as not \-et [Kissed away. The ancient stat*' did, indtM-d. fiidravour to stand in the same relation to its citizens as tlir tathei- to the child, or evm a.s ( iod to man, m is indicated liy the very cio.se conneeti»iu which existed in the atn-icnt world between religion anning veneration could not stand before the demand of the individual to have everything justified before the tribunal of his own spirit. 169. From another point of view, Hegel may be said to have snpposed that the ideal state had jdready come, when it was still far in the future. Indeed we may g.. further, and say that, by the time thr state had become i.leal, it would have long ceased to be a state. No doubt Hegel Inok..! forward, and by his iihihisojihical system was justified in looking forward, to an ultimatr idt-al unity which sh«>uld realise all. and far more? than all, that the cla.ssical state had evrr aimed at. He contemplated a universal so thoroughly realised in eveiy individual that the most complete unity of the whole should be conqKitible with the most complete self-development ot the parts. I^ut before this last and highest developnu-nt .,f reality could be reached, we should have to leave behind us alt..gether thr world of matter and time, which wotild be inc.»nq)atd>le with such a complete perfection of spirit. Still more would it be impo^siV>le in a stage of devehqunent in which . xtcrnal goviTimieiit and criminal justice still existed. And to encourage th.- actual state, as we see it in the world to-day. t.» assume functions justified only in the far past, or in the remote future, 150 PUNISHMENT is disastrous both in theory and in practice. No part of Hegel's teaching has been productive of more confusion than his persistent attempt to identify the kingdom of Prussia with the kingdom <»f Heaven. 160. The result then, to which we have come, is as follows. Hegel's view of the operation of punishment is one which is correct under certain circumstances. And when punishment hm this function, it is fulfilling its highest end. since only in this manner does it succeed in really eradicating the fiiult which caused it. But this function is one wliich it scarcely ever succeeds in performing at present, when administered in the course of criminal law, anrl which it is not more likely to succeed in pert* ►rming in the future. This does not, however, render it unimportant. For, although it is disiippeariui; in jurisprudence, it is persistent and important in education. There is not the Siime need in education as in law that punishment shall be deterrent at all costs. The ordinary r.flR'nc»s of children are not very dangerous to the struituiv of society, and w.- ran therefore turn our attention, witlj..ut much risk, nither U » curing them than suppressing them. And. as a general ride, tlie decisions of the elder world are tac-itly accepted by the younger as righteous. In cases whrre the authoritv who inflicts the punishment, or the law upon which it is intiicted, ai- exjilicitly rejected as unjust by the otlender, we cannot hope that punishment will be more than detern -ut. F»nt such cases are infrrijuent, and there is good reason to suppse that they will r(,'main so. For it is a fiict which, though otYen fo'rgott en, cannot well be denied, that children are b( »rn y<»ung— a fact which has some significiince. CHAPTER VI. lwl.Hl.Jbll 161. Hegkl's doctrine of Sin is complicated, and cannot be f^nind in any single place in his writings. It may, I believe, be accurately summ. d up as f«>llows. Innocence, Sin, and Virtue are resp.'.-tively the Thesis, Antithesis, and Synthesis c.f a triad. Sin, again, ukiv U^ analysed into three subordinate terms, which also form a triad— Sin i.n»per, Retributi..n, and Amendment. There is theref^.re, if this theoiy is correct, something in the nature of Innocence which spontaneously prcxluces Sill, in Sin, which produces Retributi-.n, in Retribu- tion which prcwluces Amendment, and in Ameiulment which produces Virtue. Sin, then, is the Thesis in a triad which fV)rms the Antitli.-'^is of a larger triad. It is tlius both jK)sitive and negative— positive within a limited spli.'re, but negative in- asmuch as that whole sphere is negative. And this di»es justice to the double nature of sin. All sin is in one sense positive, for it is an athrmation of the sinner's nature. When 1 sin, I i)lace my own will in a position of supremacy. This shall b»' so, because I will it to be so, regardless of the right. But this right, which my mm vi<.hites, is itself a far deeper and truer reality than my sinful will. Indeed it is the true reality of that will itself The fact that I sin imjihes that I am' amenable to the moral law. And that means th^it it is my nature to Ik- virtuous. If I did not violatr the deepest law of my own nature by sinning, it would not be sin. And thus mv sin while from me p>int of view an affirmation of my SIN 153 own nature, is from a more comprehensive standpoint a denial of it. No theory of sin can account for all the facts unless it allows for both these as'pecta 162. Belore we consider the theory in detail, let us enquire of what species of proof it is susceptible. An a priori [noof is impiMsible. For the subject niattir to be dealt with is not exclusively «l priori. It contains empirical elements. And therctoiv the proof must itself be empirical We must nof. then, demand for these triads a demonstration of the saiur uiiture a.s the demonstrations of the triads of the Logic. For there the terms wvi. a priori and so were the demonslnitions. ^Moreover the dialectic methmJ, as Hegel iis.s it in the Logic, could not bring out the results required h^Ti-. For the nsult of each of tho.se demonstrations is to prove the lower Nteps of the process to be inade(|uate representations of the truth,, and so to deprive then.i of any absolute validity whatever, and reduee them to moments of the higher term wliirh transcends them. Now Hegel's oliject is not to prove that Innocence and Sin are inadeijuate expressions fm- a i-ealit.y tor which Virtue is an adetpiate expr^-Nsioii. 1 le is here s|>eaking of a process in time, and his a^^Nrrtion is that Inn»>cenee produces Sin, ami Sin prcMlue's \'iitu«'. Each of them is a seiKuati' jihenonienon in tiiuf, arnl, from thai [,M.>int of view, one is as real as the othei*. All tem|:M>raI proci/sses, no doubt, are based tor Hegel on, a non-temporal reality, but here he is coritiniiig liiniself to the tem|»oral jjn Kess. And theref«»re the Syntliesis, though it |jr*,»eee«ls tVori,i, the lower terms, and htis a greater siguiticance than, they hav.-. is n.„»t the st„>le reality of those terms, as is the case in the transitions lA' the Logic, which, aeeoi-(,iing to ,Hegel, go deefM^r into the truth «,»f things. ,A1I that Hegel lias demonstra,t,rd t) priori is tlie general nature <,»f reality. His explanations of any em|,»irical fact, such .as Sin, must di •[„H,.'nd «„>n the degree in which, they succeed in accounting for the i„ihenomena. We know that Innoc»,-nee. Sin, and Virtue vx\a.. In some way or another they must spring from the general nature of reality, as deossessed by the process of categories leading on to the Absolute Idea. Before proceeding further, we must notice two pomts which will be discussed more fully later on. In the tirst place the triad of Innr»cence, Sin and Virtue is put forward by Hegel as the suthcient explanation of Sin, but not as the sutticient explanation of Virtue. Sin never occurs except as the Anti- thesis of such a triad, but Virtue, as we shall see. can occur in other circumstances, and not only as the Synthesis ot Innocence and Sin. In the second place. Hegel does not commit himself to the statement that, wherever Innocence is found, the other terms must follow, but t.nly says that there is something in the nature of each term ^^'hlch tends to bring on its successor. What is the precipe meaning of such a tendency is a questicui which must be deterred. 163. Th(' statement of the principal triad-of Innocence, Sin and Virtue— is to be found in the Philosophy of Religion The third part of this de.ds with the Absolute Religion, and is divided into three sections, the second of which deals vs^th the "Kingdom of the S.,n." This is again subdivided the third division being entitled '' Bestimn.ung des Menschen. It is in the first half of this division^ that Hegel considers the question now before us. r r ,i The exposition is tocj con.lensed to admit ot turtUer 1 StudifM in the llegdian Ifiulfctic, Section 207. « vp. fit. ii. 257—282 (trauH. iii. 45-72). ■■■■ 1 '^4' SI'M abbreviation, but the following 'piuwigw! strike the key-note :— "The priniary condition ^f Miin, which is su[»erficially repre- sentee:! as a state of innocence, is the state c»f nature, the animal state. Man must (soil) be ciil|iable ; in so far as he is ,gcM:icl, he mnst not be gooil m any natural thing is good, kit his gnilt. his will, must come into play, it must be possible to impute moral acts tn him. Guilt really means the possibility of imputatiini. 'The good man is goal along with and by means of his will, and to that extent Wcause of liis guilt (Schuid). In- nocence (Unnchnlfi) implies tin* absence of will, the absence of evil, and consequently th.' absence of goodness. Natural things and the juiimals are all gcMMl, but this is a kind <»f good'ness which cannot be attributed to '^Imii ; in so fiir^^as he is gtMKi it must be by the action and consent of his will'." "The animal the stone, th.' plant is not evil; evil is first present within the sph.T.- of kr.owletige: it is the consciousness of independent Ht-in^, <»r Being-^T-srlf relatively to ar» Other, 'but also relatively to an (H.jt'ct which is^ inhtTently universal in the sense that it is the Notion, or rational will. It is only by means < »f this sr|..inition that I exist independently, for royseli; and it is in this tliat evil lies. To be evil means, in an abstraet sr ii>.-, to isolate myself: the isolation which separati's nie from the Universal represents the element of nition:ditv, the laws, th.- rssmtial characteristics of Sjiirit. But it is nl»»nt( with tlu< s.paiation that Being-for-self origi- niites, and it is only wh.n it jijipears that we have the Spiritual as something univrrsal. as Law. what ought to be*." "Thf d«M [mM iMM'd of Spirit consists in the fact that the opfMteilion in the subject itself has attained its universiil, i.e. its most abstract extreme. This is the division, the sorrow, rei'-nvd to. That th<*sc two sidrs are not mutually exclusive, but constitute tliis contradiction in one, is what directly proves the sulyect to be an infinite f«>rce (»f unity; it can bear this Cimtradictioii. This is the formal, abstract, but also iiitinite energy of the unity wldch it possesses. » op. fit. n. 260 (traiw. iii. 4h). '- t>jK fit. n.'Ii'ti (traiw. iii. r*3|. SIN •« ■»> (V loo "That which satisfies this need is the consciousness of reconcilement, the consciousness of the abolition, of the nullity of the opptisition, the consciousness that this opposition is not the truth, but that, on the contrary, the truth consists in reaching unity by the negation of this opposition, i.e., the peace, the reconciliation which this need demands. Recon- ciliation is the demand of the subject's sense of need, and is inherent in it as being what is infinitely one, what is self-identical. , "This abolition of the opposition has two sides. Ihe subject must come to be conscious that this r^ppsition is not something implicit or essential, but that the truth the inner ivalitv {dm Ifmere), implies the abolition and absorpti.m of this opposition. Accordingly, just because it is impliciilv. and fi'om the point of truth, done aw=iy with in something higher, the subject as such in its Being-lor-self can reach and arrive at the aboliti^m of this o|,|K>sition. that is to say, can attain t«. peace or reconciliation ^" 164 Innocence, says Hegel, " imj^lies the absence of will. This must be taken as a limit only. If Innocence is used as an attril)ute of conscmus beings, it cannot involve the complete absence <,f will. To suppose that kiK.wledge could exist en- tirelv sep:irated from will would be a mistake ot a kiml completelv alien to Hegel's system. But Innocence, as it is used bv Hegel, is clearly a matter of degiv... an.l s,> we can say that, in proportion as a conscious being is innocent, he is devoid of will. . , Now whatever is devoir! of will is in harmony with the Ti. • ..K. vviit't^i»«..« which can be real. anatible. we are .ertain that one at le.ist ot them is unreal. FAery faet therefore is eompat.ble w,th every other, ami so with the universe, which is the unity of wh.ch all these facts are .lifterentiations. An-l there is no meaning > op. cit. ii. 277 (trans, iii. ^7). SIN 157 156 IE saying tliat two compatible facts are inharmonious, unless one of them is, or includes, a purpose which the other prevents it from realising. Whatever is innocent, then, is in harmony with the universe. But this involves, for Hegel, that it is good. For the uni- verse as a whole is most emiihatically good for Hegel. He has told us that the real is rational, and the rational is real. Thus he says that "natural things and the animals are all Yet he also siys that innocence " im|)lies the absence of gwKlness." In this he refers no longer to natural things, but U* man. It is ividml that a j^modncss which has nothing to ilo witli th«,' will is not monil gocxlne.H.'j. And a man is not projierly calleti, gooil unless he is morally gtHnl A stone or a cabbage have no i^ssibility of will, and it would be un- reasonable to deny llieir harmony with the universr th.> name of gwMiiiess, on the gmun.l that tliry do not poss.-ss a ijood will. But a man has a will, and so tlio jiossibility ot moral goles, according to Hegel's idealism, are the sjune as those in couf^irniity to which th*- universe works. And, this b<*ing s«,.>, thi* virtU'»us ni;in, like the innocent being, is iti luirn»«»ny with I ho uinvn-vr -but this time in a deeiMfr hjuniony. He is in harm«»ny witli it, not m«'r*ly as a iMU't which cannot be "Ut <»f harnionx, but as an individujil who can pr( will — it is a fact, and causally determined l>y the w<»rld of reality, and yet it may be s* » detrrmined a,s to i^ostnlato what the wr>rl con«lenui what tlie worl will, there can be discord. But between a virtuous will and a righteous universe there is harmony. Innocence and Virtue agree, then, in the lact that the nature of each of them is good. But Innocence is merely blindly determined to good from the outside. Virtue, on the other hand, freely determines itself to goodness. (It is scarcely necessary to repeat that Hegel's use of the wonls Freedom and Self-determination has nothing to do with what is generally called Free-will, but refers simply to the unthwarted develop- ment of the internal nature of the agent.) The element which Virtue has, and which Innocence lacks, is the individual and his self-determination. 166 There can be no doubt, f^>r a philosophy like Kegels, whicli finds all reality to be Spirit, that Virtue is higher than Innocence And, in that case, there will be sab specie tempons a process from one to the other. In what manner may we exi)ect that this will happen ? We may reasonably hope that we shall be able to trace in it a dialectic tria.l. We caniR.t, for reasons which I liave p,,it,t,.d « Hit elsewhere\ be certain that we shall be able to do so But it is at any rate worth trying. All process is, if Hegel's philos<4)hy is right, (»f a dialectic nature, and, in spite of the complexity of all concrete i.heiiomena, we may be able to perceive it in this particular case. The nature of Virtu.' suggests very strongly that it may turn out to be a Svnthois ni Inn<.cence with some other term, I-.,/;,, ;*< nnitv an element which Innocence smce it combines m its uniiv an posM.^^es and one in which Innocence is dehcient. In ih^i case the other term will emphasise the element m which Innocence is deHcient. while it will unduly ignore th,- elen.ent which is specially characteristic o{ Innoc.-nce. ti * f.. ... fKi. (li'dt'ctic this would not be an Even ajiart iiom tne (ii.u»'ui, im^ impr..l,able rn.tho.l M l-n.gns.. Whether Hegels Logic be comet or not, wo havo ot.lv to look rouud us to s,r nwmy ca«.s wl,..,o ,.n«n.<^ -an only b- .oa.l,- l.V suc,-.>s.vely o^o-'- estimatiug each ol two co.n,.l.n..nta.y an-l ,.a.t.al truths. i Studif" in the Ileffelian Diahvtic, Chap. vii. »i-» SIN 159 Not until the falsity of the firet of these, taken, in is<.ilation, has driven us on to the second, and that also has proved iiDMtisfactory hy itMjIf, are we in a |K)sition to combine both in ft rc*ally adequate manner. 167. Now if thfiv is such a dijiU-ctic process to l)e traced in this case, the coiiiplementary < -xtreine will be the self^ determination of the individual regardless df the relation which that (I. t« iminjition hears to the gootl And thus wt: get Sin as thf ntiiaining term of the triad. For although tliis random 8i*lf-dn would still be morally wrong. It is, indeed, the etisriice of all moral wrong, because it denies all dit^erenee between the wrong and the right. Not only do I do what I will— which is a tautology when we are dealing with volua- taiT action— but this (:*nd8 the matter. There is no .►thi./r criterion of action except that I will it. And since all my %folu!itarv aetiuiis s;iti>ty this test, all di.stinetions of ij-uod and evil are swept away. This iHisition is involved in all Sin. U is true that ;i man often acts sintidly with a f)erlectly clear intellectual ciinviction that there is a moral law, and that he is breaking it. But in committing the sin, he reje.-ts the moral law ]iractieally, if not thi'<'ivtieally, and the ipicstioii is one t»f piaetirt-. He decides that for him, at any rate at that minute, the will to do the action shall be its sufficient justification. By siiying that this is of the essence of Sin, we (hi not imply that nothing can be virtuous, unless it i> eiiig virtu<»us. It i> ^juite po.^sible to hold that actions from (»ther motives are also virtuous. The position of Sin lies in the assertion — or rather in the practical adoption — of the maxim that my motives wrtl no other justification than the fact that they are my motnvs. It should be notee used for the effective relief of real misery. But content and form are never without some influence on one another. And an action inspired by a sinful motive will never exactly resend)le !in action inspired by a virtuous motive, though they may, of course, share some particular charac- teristic, which from some particular point of view may be the only imiiortant one. Sin. then, is the complementary moment to Innwence. And it is clear that Innocence precedes Sin, and does not follow it. Innocence is therefore the Thesis, and Sin the Antithesis. 168. This stage is the most novel, and the most para- doxical, of the whole theory. The arguments for it, as was remarked alxtve. rely on the fact that it is consistent with the genei-al nature of reality, as (lenionstratesition that we have to climb up to Virtue by means of Sin? This is jMirt «»f the general (piestion of the origiit of Evil Hewel's treatment of this subject dmn not fall within the scope of this chapter'. » Cp. Studui in lUe Hegelian Diukctk, Chap. v. til 160 SIN IW. It is clear from the seetioiis of the Philosophy of :Religioi:i to which I have referred that Hegel regards the mofement from liiiiiK-i'nct„' to Sin as followed, and completed by a movement from Sin to Virtue. But the details of this are not gi:veii by him here. When, however, he deals, in the Philosophy of Diw, with the action of the state as regards crime, he does, as we havt- sr-en, give a triad, which in this siMcial ca« leads from Sin to V'irtut'. We have, tiist, Sin. Then, as th« Antithesis, comes Punishment. The result, in which l»th the Jissertioii of self in Sin, and the suppression of «jlf in Punishment, are c< mtainwl, is Repntance'. The relation of Punishment and Repi»ntance to Sin is not reganJed by Hegel as inveiit«'d by society for its own advantage,, but as du«- to tin* inherent nature of Sin. It is not, I think, an unreasonable inferenev to rniicliule tliat an analnj^rons proc.-ss is to be f^.iuiH'l in the case of tiiose other transitions from Sin ill Virtue which are n«»t due to the punishments drlibcrat.'ly iortieted by other hinnan beinj^s, acting as cons.:iijus guardians of right. Hegel, so far as 1 know, docs not state this view anywhere. But his eni|»hiisis, in the PhiI«»sophy of Law, on the inevitability of the relation is so stroi»g that I tliink we are justified in holding thsit he believed some such relation to exist in everv ease of Sin. 170. In ev.rv case .►f Sin, then, then- would follow suf!c»r- iiig consequent on it, a.iid tending to rei)rt:*ss the self-assertion in which the sin consisted. And when this had been efiH'cted, the agent would be in a, ct,»ndition in which he was trerd from his sin. It wttuld, Imwovir, lir inc< jnvcnicnt to use in all eases the terms Piiwishnient ancjntauce cann»»t be an invariable step between Sin and Virtue, for there are many cases where our recovery from a past fault simply consists in the gradual development of a more healthv character, and where we cannot repent of the sin, because it is not remend>ered — perhaps, indeed, was never recognized as a sin at all. Here too, therefore, we shall require a fresh term. Now tlie word Amendment is not, I think, limil«*d, liki- Repentance, to a pn»c«'ss of whose ethical meaning the agent is conscious, and thus it will be suitable for our present purpose. The sub-triad of Sin, then, will be niad«; up of the following mend)ers, Sin pro|)er, Retribution, and Amendment. And in this way, as I remarked at the liegiiming of the chapter, Hegel does jn^ticr both to the positive and the negative aspcts of Sin. It is negative as against Imiocence and Virtue. For it consists in opjjosition to that order of the universe which Innocence blindly t»beys and Virtue freely accej)ts. But from another point of view Sin, as the a.Hsertion of the ultimate value of the particular individual in his (.articularity, is just the uid)ridled positive, which recpiires checking and mtxlerat- inif. Both these characteristics are accounti'd for by taking Sin m the Thesis in a triad which is itself an Antithesis. 171. I»ut wliy. it may be asked, does Retribution follow, or at all events tend t.» tWllow. ever}' act i>f Sin, inde|)*'n(h'ntly of the conscious efforts oi' mankind to inffict Punishment? The answer is that the universe agrees with the ideals of morality. In so far, therefore, as any man seeks his gocxl in ends which arc* incotnpatible with those ideals, lie is placing 162 CPA m^ hia will in opposition to the priiicipleH which regulate the world as a whole, and which are the deeper truth of his. own nature. And thus he must Ite baffled— either by external things, or, if that should «K»t happen, by the internal discord which hi> Mction will produce in himself. It is in this second fi>nn that the iii.vitability of Retri- bution, and its intrinsic connection with sin. are most clearly shown. The whole position ..f Sin is contradictory, in a way which Hi^gcFs system brings out. pnhaps, with greater clear- ness than any other. For Sin depends on the i'mj>hasis laid on the«?1C The Jittitude of thi- sinner is that wlia.r lie wants is of supreiiM- importanee. And he is so far right, that every self is of supreme imi>ortance, and t^hat its claim to l>e treated m an end is entirely justifiable. But, while tlie sinner is right in treating himself as of supreinv importaner, 1m' is wi(.ng ill liiH conception ...if his nature. The true self of any ^man is not something which exists in particularity ;uh1 is<,latii)n, and which finds its satisfaction in, the graL.ifieatii»n of desires arising fitUTi its particular and isolated nature. On the contrary it t.rjly I'xi.sts in its individuality by reason of its necessary and vital luiity with all other selves, and it can <»nly find satis- foction in' so i'nr as it places its gocK:l in the ri:'alisjiti..n, by means of its individual nature, of that unity. The only true peace (or thr self is to be ftiund in its free selt-deti 'rmination to carr}" out t,he i)nrpv»se *A' the universe, since that purpose is its fuvn deefM'st nature; and the pur[)ose of th« • univn-sc — the universe wbicli has been demonstraled to be rational — is in accordance with the principles of Virtu.e. Thus Sin is a en. >inre it at once asserts the suprem,e value of the sell", and seeks satisfaction in that which — just liecause the self hii^s su|)retne value-^can nevt-r .satisfy. To commit sin is very like drinking sea-water to quench thirst. And, like the "Irinking of sea-water, it requires no eiti'i-na] retribution, but brings idiout its own. 172. From Retribution follows Amendment. If what has been saiil above is corn'ci. it follows that in tl»f long run sin must always disgust the |M'rson who commits it. You have ugh t*i have it borne in on SIX 163 . I you with ever increasing force that it is not in this way that true self-satisfaction is to be found. With a imssiinistic theory of the universe, indeed, it might be possible to condemn certain conduct as sinful, and yet to maintain that it yielded all the satisfaction which could be got in sueh a \ery imperfect world. Or again, another theory might hold that there w^as in this respect some fundamental and original difference between one man and another, so that some of them woulti find their true satisfactif »n in sin, and would never be deterred from it simply by experience of it. But neither of these views is possible ttjr Hegel. The tru*' nature of every self; he maintains, is such that it can only find satisfaction in its own free co- operation with the purpose of the universe. And so experience will luing home to it in.vitably that it cannot find sjitisfaction in sin. But is this conviction pn.perly to be calliHl Amendment f We t«>ok this term to de>ignate a stat«' analogous to Re- p.'iitance and indicating a moral impn»vemeijt. Can what we liave leached lie call.d a moral iini)rovement, or is it simply the correction of a niiscalculati<»n ? Is it anything more tlian a discoverv that sin does not pay, and can that be called a moral advance f There would, certainly, be no moral significance in a discovery that sin would fiiil to j)roduce sjitisfoction because of soino ixt.inal cin'umstance which has been arbitrarily attached to it. But then this is not what ha})pens. It is tho sin itself which, in th.' pn..r-^ ,)f KetrilMition, loss's the charm which it had hitherto |>osses.sed. It had been committed because the agent imagined that he could find satisfaction in it. It is abaiuloiied because he learns that he cannot-^ust because it Is >ni. Now this is a moral change. Th.' ditf«'ivnce betwem a vicious man and a virtuous man is jirecisely tliat the former finds his siitisfaction in sin, and the latter in virtue. It is inuHissible to eliminate so much reference to self as is implied in this. A man lued not act for his own [ileasure, but he must always act for liis «»wn satisfaction. And thus no more fundamental expression could be tVjund tor a mond change 11—2 164 SIN tlian the realisatioii that sin did not and could not satisfy the sinner. To stop sinning because some of the consequences of sin are unsatisfactory is simply prudence. But to stop sinning liecause sin itself has become unsatisfactory is to become virtu i>us. To realise that sin cannot gi\< satisfaction is, in itself, only a negative result. Taken by itself, it might teach us not to sin, but could scarcely teach us to do anything else. But then it is not taken by itself. It is only an incident in the develojmieiit of a self which is implicitly moral all through, though it re. Their decision inth-ed is not arbitrary, but does not arise spontaneously out of the crime. And, besides, the Punishment is not the foilure of the crime to produce the satisfaction sought for, but a, distinct and independent evil annexed to it. But we must remenilier that the etieet of punishment, in the triad deseribiHl in the last cha[>t«''r. dni-'s not arise from the fact that it is something unjilrasant which bMhinces the siitisfiiction to he i-xiteet.-d from the ei-inie. For if this were the effective element, it is clear that the result could onlv be deterrent, and not that wliich I have eaUed purifying. X*>w it is the purifiinjj effi'ct of which Hegel is speaking. And the work of Punishment in iirotiucing this result is simply to force on the attention of the criminal the fact that his crime is condemned hy ^>nne moral authority wliieh he is not prepared ex|ilicitly to reject. The work of Punishment is i» 165 thus to crush the false indejwndence of the subject, so as to give a chance to the tnie independence to manifest itself. And this is just what is done by the inherent collapse of Sin, which I have called Retribution. Their functions are thus analogous. It is only in so far as this analog}' arises that Hegel is interested in Punishment at all — in so far, that is, as Punishment reveals to the criminal that the crime is not the outcome of his deepest nature. When the effect is pre- ventive, ..r merely deterrent, or merely vindictive, Hegel finds no philosophical meaning in it. 174. From Amendment we now [lass to X'irtue. In the larger triad Virtue is the Synthesis of Innocence and Sin. That it is in its light place here will be seen from what has been already s^vid. Innocmce has the [lositive quality of being in harmony with the goiMl. Hut it has the defect of not being a free self-determination of the individual. And thus it is not really in harmony with the good, because it is not in harmtiny with it in tlie way which is appro})riate to a conscious l)eing. A conscious being, who imitates the mmi- ness of a stone, is not good, but bad. On the other hand Sin has th<' p"sitive quality «»f b»ing a self-detemiination. But then it IS not in harmony witli the gomi And tlie good is thf .-^.ritial nature of .vrry conscious l>eing. And so Sin turns out not to be really an assertiou, but a negation of the true individuality <»f the sinmr. 'I'hus each of the two t.-rms is found, by means of its defects, to involve a ct»ntradiction. Because Innoc;ence is only goml, it is not gocKi but l>ad. Because Sin only jtsserts Iii.lividualitw it do€>s not assert, l)ut rather negates it. But Virtue transcends these imfM'rfectioiis, and therefore resolves thes.' coiitradiclions. It is really *^ood, l)ecause it is really self-deternunation. It is n-ally self-determination, because it is rejdiy good. 175. If we take into account the sub-triad of Sin, tht? iuunediate transition to Virtue will b«- from Amenreect of one of his (|!ndities, and not in resp'ct of anrtther, and the dialectic m< »\enient mav therefore have lu l)e rejieated again, in respect of this latter. It is si matter of everv-dav okservation that a > . man may be in a state of childlike submission to one element of morality, of explicit revolt against a second, and of free and reasoned acquiescence in a third. And not only have Innocence and Virtue many aspects, but they are also capable of ditferent degrees. For we saw above that a man ci)uld only be more * »r less innocent, since complete Imioc.rHT would riMpiire C(»m|»lete absence of will, and would theretorc be impossible for any conscious being. It is therefore possible that the j.rocesses slioiild ordy be partial. The revolt ill Sin, anlind submission of mere Innocence, which will reipiire to be removed by a repetition of the process. 177. We have now to consider two qualiticaticais to the universality i .f the formula we have established. They were mentioned earlier in the chapter. The first of these lies in the fact that Virtue can be increase«l .»tht*rwise than through Sin and Amendment. It often hafipens that a man beccuues eonscious of some imperfection or defect in liis morality, and forthwith amends it, s.» jmssing to a higher stage of Virtue. Indft'd, tliis is often done unconsciously. With no deliberate resolve, with im knowledge of th.* proc.», a man rises, through the i.raetice of virtue, to som.- higher level tl»an that to which he had previously attained. Thus revolt and reconciliation are not the (only road of moral advance. This, however. tl.K's not at all confiict with Hegel's theory. Indeed it might hav.- been anticijKited. For he points out in his Logic that the form of the diahctK- changes gradually as we move from the beginning to the end of the proces.^ The Antithesis becomes less and less the c.ntrary .»f the Thesis, and more and more a union (.f the The>is with its complementary element, so that its relation to the Thesis comes to resemble more and more closely the relation of a Synth^^sis. The advance from .some pirticnlar imj»erfection lu. h.nger takes place by first emphasising the complementary imiierfection, and then rising to a higher idea wliich tnuiscends both. This ' Cp. Studit* in the Ihgelian Imlectic, Chap. Vi. rfiii* ■■•«#«mMIII*V«hW4 168 SIX if [.?i 169 m replaced by a direct advance from the original imperfection. to the transcend iiig i<]ea. The proceas may be said to come nearer and nearer to a straight line, though it never actually becomes one. We may therefore anticipate, on a pn'ori grounds, what we have seen actually hap|M'iiH. At first, when Innocence is nearly complete, the advance can only be upon the mcxlel of the transitions in the Doctrine of Being. From Innocence we must advance to Sin — ite direct contrary. Only after passing through »Sin can we arrive at Virtue. But as the general moral ailvaiice — or jMissibly the advance in some particular field of morality — progwssis, the situation changes, and the transitions resemble those which art' to be tound in the Doctrine of the Kotion. The man h*as attained to fulhr* self-consciousness. Hf can ifc'igniae the ini|M?rfection of the degree of \'irtue to which he has attained by simple reflection. He does not ref|uire t< » have its imperfi'orion driven home by the inability of that siandpoini to keiji li.mj iias.sing over into its ojiposite. Hf can srr that it is imperfect oven while he iM!Cupies it, and is therefore able to |iass directly fi"ni it to a higher one which tiiinscen«ls it. It is, therefore, only wlieii the position of the Thesis is rehitively cl«»se to al».solute Innoc(»nce that the process which we have sketched takes jjlace. In proportion as the Thesis, in a later stage, sums up many advances of the past, and so is more virtuous than innocent, further transitions can be niaile without Sin and Amenthnent. 178. The in hi Tent nec'essity of the process, then, is not f*)r Virtue, since Virtue can be increased (though not indeed in the earlier stages) withimt it. Hegel does regard the j)rncess m inherently neces>aiy, but ..uly fV.r the other members. Where there is Innocence there must necessarily ftillow Sin, and where there is Sin there must necessuriiy follow Retribution, Amend- ment, and Virtue. ITO. But is even tliis in accordance with the facts ? And this (juestion brings us to the second qualification which we have to make. It is not onlv a tendency, but an actual and inevitable proetss, in the race or the universe, wliile in tlie case of particular imlividuals there was merely a tendency, which might possibl\ be counteracted. The passages (juoted ab<»ve. and the lest of that jmrt of the Philos( >phy of Religion from which they are taken, bear out this view, siijci' Hegel's attention seems devoted to the progress of the race as a whole, and not of the individuals. Imleed, he shows everywhere a strong inclination to treat ethical problems as matters for mankind, and not for this or that man. He is not far from the belii*f— a belief it might be difficult to defend — that, whi'U mankind has con.piered a moral difficulty in one generati<»n, all succeeding genenitions will enjoy the fruits of the victory as fidly as each man does those of his own jmst struggles. Here, as else wh<.'re, the indifterence to the individual shown in the ap[»li<*ations of the Logic stands in striking contnist to the emplnusis laitl on individmility in the Logic itself 181. But there is another way in which this difficulty might be avoided. Hegel l>elieved in immortality. And he might therefore have explained the apjiaunt inctunplete moral processes by asserting that it was our field of vision which was incomplete. All the transitions in the procejss require time. And it i« only because death has intervened too soon that, in .some cases, IniKX!erice does not leaii to Sin, Sin to Retribution, Rc»tri,biitioii to Amendment, or Am.endment to \'irtiie. But death only stops our observation of the pnxiess. It does not atop the prorancr <»f Retribution. All that is recpiireil is that .acti<.'ns done on one side of death shall afiect the character on the other And this must be so. If it were not, thf-re woiilil be no identity of the two I'xistences, and, therefore, no imnii»rta1itv. It is difficult ti» siiv which of thes. two alternatives Heeel would havr adoptctd. It is especially difficult to know whiit he would liave thon^dit of the s.T.,n*l, for, as has been remarked in Chapter II, he always declines to lake the slightest arcoimt of the immortality in which he protessrs to bt-lieve. On the whole, it appears to nie more probable that he would have adopted the first alt.-rnativ.-, and fwlmitted that there wfis only a tendency in the individual, while there was an inevitable prix;t-.» in the raei •. At the >anie time, I cannot help thinking that the otber Jilternative niight jirtnide a biitter solution in the hands of any Hegelian who did not share liis master's obj ec t ion to t;i k i 1 1 g i i ii mortal i ty seriously. 182. W«* have ni»w s.»-n what MegeFs theory of Sin is, and we ha¥e seen on what basis a belief in that theory must rest. We have before us the fact of Sin — the fact that a being who forms |Mirt of the universe can put himself in ojipositioo to the principles which underiie the true nature of that univers*?, and of himself in jiarticular. And we have also bcjfore us the fact that such a bein;' is y«t, from the point of view i .f the very morality to which he opposes himself, a gher object in the scale of values than the stone or tree 1, 171 which is a perfectly submissive instrument to the general purpose. And bedsides these facts we have the conclusions as to the general nature of reality which are demonstrated by the Logic. Our j)resent theory rests (a) '^" the consideration that it is not only compatible with the conclusions of the Ltjgic, but is (»ni* which those conclusions would by themselves render probable though not certain. Its further support is innre or less negative, since it consists in (6) its claim to e.\ plain the facts better than any other explanati(»n that has been put forward which is ceculiarity .)f this theorv is the relatively high place which it gives to Sin. There are two other theorie.s, with which it may b« ' confounded, but it ifoes further than either of them. The first is the doctrine, which i> so prominent in the philo.s.)phy <»f I^eibniz, that evil is the condition of gtxMl, since it is ini[)ossible that gtxKl should exist unless evil existed also. The M-cond is tlu* doctrine that sin may be made an instrument of a greater good than w« >nld have existed with<.ut it— that men may rise, not only in spite of their repented sins, but bv means of them. Hegel's position differs fi'om the first of these in making Sin not onlv a necessaiv conc.mitant o( Virtue. l)Ut a nec«-s.sary element in it. xVll Virtue is based on transcended Sin, for although, as we have seen, Virtue c.in advance ui other ways than thn»ugh Sin, this is only in the higher and later stages. The beginning of it nuist always be by such a jiroce.Hs as that which hits been d«*scribed in this chapter. In thus making transcended Sin an element in \'irtue, Hegel's position re- sendiles the srcond theory mentioned above. But it differs from it in making the jinxjess universjil anil necessjiry. It is not mer«'ly that Sin may lead t*. incrimse of Virtue, and that Virtue mav be based on Sin. Hegel's view is that Sin mmt lead t<» increase of Virtue, and that there is no Virtue which is not based on Sin. 184. The result of this is that moral evil and moral gocxl are not absolutely ojiposed for Heg< 1, as they are for many philosophers. There can be no absolute opposition — however important the relative opposition may be for practical purposes I J / 172 SIM' — between two terms, one of which u the Synthesis of the other. And again, which is perhaps the most paradoxical part of the system, a man draws inanr to Virtue when he comniits a sin. For Sin, as the Mjcond in time of the two stages, has the advantage over Innoci-nce. In pa«iing to Sin fajm In- nocence the sinner hats taken a stij) on the only road which can lead him to Virtue, and niorahty has thi'refore gained. Ordinar) morality has accepted the jxisit 1*111 that even a sinful man is higher than a stout •, which cannot comniit sin. But many |M-*ople wonld regard the \iew that a sinful man was higher than an iniim„'ent man as a dangerous fJ:ilsehooe c.ncejitions, and not in real it v. 1 do n«»t, however, believe that in the ac- Cfjitance of Hegel's doctrine of Sin any ehaiig«» in the ordinary' cjumris of nioralit}- would be logically involved, or that any logical ground would arise tor diso'be«:lience to those canons. iSi. It ma\ he said, perhaps, that the consideration that a sin, marks a moral advance on the state of innwence would be a prtuHid for disregar«ling the sinful nature of an act to the commissii m 1 it which w(» were ieiiipte a sin would mark a moral advance. It would not do so in anv case in which the result — the state of Virtue — had been already n -ache.!, or in which we could reach it without snuiing. It is only when we are in such a stage of relatively rudimentary Innocence that we cannot advance except by negation, that the sin is indis|M»nsable to the gaining of Virtue, and so is a m,onil advance. Now how can I know that I am, at a particular time, and with reganl to a |iarticular virtue, in such a state \ It seems 173 tx* me that I could know it only by experience I ciinnot be certain that I am unable to resist temptation except by Ending that, in fact, I do not resist it. Thus it follows that, until my sin has been committed, I can never know it to be a necessary step to virtue, and therefore to be a moral advance. And thus the knowledge that it would be a moral advance can never be a factor in determining me to commit it. And, again, in |>ro|>ortion as my knowledge of my own character showed mo a probability more or less approximating to a certainty that advance in the case in question was only jKWsible through sin, what would this amount to? To a belief, more or less certain, that I ctnild not resist the temptation. For, if I couhl resist it, it would pr«)ve that I was ti*» longi-r on the level of mere Innocence, but had risen t«» Virtue. 1 should therefore only have grouiinly make me regjird a sin as an a tiiie to say, "If I do not yield to it. then my resistance will be a moral as.* that there wjts a gnnmd for either would be to fall into the same fallacy as that which assorts that Determinism must destroy all ivM>taiiee to temptation, because a Detcrminist believes that, if he did c(»mmit th«' sin, it would be eternally necessiiry that he should commit it. 186. Thus Hegel's theory offi?rs no l<»gical ground r chiKismg sin rather than virtue. An«'ing, whether it l)e Sin or '\'irtu<-, i>, when it hapiiens, a moral advance*. Such results are not a n<.t wholly liad, nor the w..rst jM.ssible state. All that is retjuired of a thi-nry of Sin, therefore, in order that it may l)e harmh'ss to morality, is that it should not drny the diffen-nce between Virtue and Sin, or assert that Sin is the greater good of the two. Hegel's iheor}- does not «lo either. To go ftirther, and to condemn Sin as aljs<.lutt-ly and p<:»sitively bad, is useless to monilit}", and fatal to religion^ 188. We may notice' that this tlu'oiv provides a justifica- tion f>r a belief which has fh.urished for a long period, especially in the English race, wiiljout any metaphysical support. It has v< ly coinn.only been held that it is desirable that ehiklren sh< mh\ do certain things, for which, when they ha\.' d<»ne them, it is desirable that they should be punished. On m»»t ethical * To conwidtT this point wdiiltl be Ix'VoikI the limits of tlie present cliapter. Cp. Chap. IX.; al»o StudirM in the lh*jehim Dialeetic. Srriiuiis 20*2 -20«i. " Cp. AppearuHrt' and Heal it y, Chmp. ixv. p. HO. theories this appears to be hopelessly unreasonable. Either, it is said, an act deserves punishment, and then it ought not to be done, or else it ought to be done, and then it cannot deserve punishment. Some systems of education accept the first alternative, and some the sec-ond, but thev aerree in rejecting the hypothesis that Ixuh the acts and their punish- ment could Ih* (h'sirable. In spite of this, however, the old view continues to be held and to be acteus in this coimection. But it must be remend)ered that wr arr watching the process from the standpoint of th«' Synthcwis in a wav which is seldom, if ev«'r. i»ossibh' when we ;ire observing the struggles of om* fellow adults. (It is to this exceptional point of observation, I suppose, that w»- must iiscribe th<' fact that many i)eoj)h' who would shrink from recr»gniziiig a moral advance in a night's drunken- ness are (piite able to sre a moral advance in a forbidden pill«»w-tight.) To one who fully comprehi-nds tin* facts, Sin would always apprar too futile to Imj taken s«riously. It is necessary, no douht, to take our own sins anil those of our neighboure very seriously, but that is because we do not fully ctMuprehend. For thos.- who do, if there are such, the most atrocious of our ciiinos may reveal themselves to have the .same triviality wliich «'Vrn we can perctive in a schoolb<»y's sur- ri'ptitious cigarette. In heavi*n 'they whistle the devil to make them sj>ort who know that sin is vain'." > Kipiinif, IhtmtrH-room italluti*, Ufdication. i^^t 176 It would seem, then, that in this matter a system of education cannot be judged by the same tests as a system of govemmeiit. The punishments of the state can scarcely hope to be anything more than deterrent and preventive, and, since this is so, that state is in the most healthy condition in which the fewest punishments are deserved But if punishment has, in education, the higher function of a stage in a necessary moral process, it would follow that a system of educiition is none the worse because it does not prevent children from deserving punishment — provided, of course, that it affords a reasonable probability that they will get what they deserve. THE CONCEITION OF SOCIETY AS AN ORGAXIS\r. 189. Hegei/s tendency to exalt the state, and society generally, at the expense of the individual citizen, is one of the most striking characteristics of his system. It is one, moreover, in which Hegelians, as a nile, have faithfully fol- lowed their master. The exaltation in question is not identical with a desire to increase very largely the functions exercised by the state. It involves indeed, almost neceasarily, the extension of those functions beyond the limits allowed them by the stricter Individualists. But it would be quite consistent with an amount of inv vrry accurate. An organic unity is, in the opliiiary meaning of' the teriii, siich a unity as binds tr.gether the ditterent iMirts of a living bin ly. And, wl.ateviT may be thi- unity which exists in society, it would seem clear that it cannot, on Hegelian principles, be tli«' sainr as that ot the |»rts of a h wly. Self-conscious persons, such as make^ up society, are ftir more individual than a hand or a foot. Now. according to Hegel, the gnat*r is the individuality of parts, the closer is thi- unity which cun be * stablished between them. and the deeixir must wt? go to tstablish it. It follows tluit Kilf-coiiscious iMi-sons will need a deejier and more fundamental principle of union than sutlices for the parts of a body, and, if tli«v (tre joined by a |>rinci|ile adeciuatr IVir the purpose, will form a unity far closer than that of the parts of a bmly. And to call such a |>rinciple organic seems unreasonable. It is true that it eoinirnhtiids and stiriMisses the principle of organic unity. But. if this xwr^ a reason for calling it organic, it would be an e.^ially gwid iva>4>n for calling an organic unity mechanical, and iVir calling a mechaniad unit}- a mathematical aggregate. m THE CONCEPTION OF SOCIETY AS AN ORGANISM 179 The use of the word organic, therefore, seems to me incorrect, and, not improbably, misleading. But since it is used by most of the writers of the present day who follow Hegel in this question, I shall adopt their phraseology while I am considering their views. Hegel takes the State (Der Staat) as a higher form of society than the Civic Community (Die burgerliche Gesell- schaft). He expresses the distinction between them as follows: "Were the state to be considered as exchangeable with the civic community, and were its decisive features to be reganled as the security and |)rotection of property and personal freedom, the interests of the individual ;is such would be the ultimate purpose of the social union. It would then be at one's option t.. be a niember of the state. But the state has a totally dit!'erent relation to the individual. It is the objective spirit, and he has his truth, real existence, and ethiciU status otdy in being a member ot it. Union, as such, is itself the true content and end. since the individual is intended to pass a universal life. His particular satisfactions, activities. ;iud way of life have in this authenticated substantive principle their origin and result'." Hegel does not, h«»wever, make any distinct attempt to pro\t' the superiority of the State to the Civic Community. He points out that tin ' unity is more close and vital in the State, and there he leaves the matter, the line of thought being, ai)parently, that since it has been pr.)ved in the Logic that true realitv is a jwrtiet unity, the closer unity is always the higher form. For a more detailed treatment of the subject we must Iwk to his followcjrs. In particular, Professor Mackenzie, in his " Introduction to Social Philosophy," main- tains the organic nature of society with such forcr and clearness that our best methixi of dealing with the subject will be to exam in*' his exposition of it. 191. Professor .Mackenzie detines an organism by saying that in it " the relations of the parts are intrinsic ; changes take jilace by an internal adaptation ; and its end forms an : PhUo$oph^ of Law, Section 25S, lecture note. 12—2 180 THE CONCEPTION OF SOCIETY AS AN ORGANISM eseential elemeet in its own nature^" Here are three cliarac- teristies. The second does not require special consideration. Its truth, and the sense in which it is to be taken, seem to deiieiid on the truth, and on the precise meaning, of the previous statement that the relations of the parts are mtrmhic. The other two iioints of the definition seem to me to be ambiguoua If they are taken to imply that society is an end tossibly be taken to mean, that to be in these relations was the end of the individual who was in them, and that this was his end, not from any further quality of the relations, but siinjily becuusi th« V were the relations which united him to society, then, indeed, we should have an ..rgaiiie unity. But this is not what Professor Mackenzie proves. Me appeiirs to be aitisfied when he has pointed out that the individuaFs natuiv is determmed in every direction by the society in whieli he lives, and that there is no part of his nature to which this detiriiiiiiatioii does not extend*. This is unquestionably true. No man, indeed, is onl*/ the proiluct of society, for it wouhl l>e impossible to account for the diffi^rentiated result, if it did not contain an tiriginally dil^ ferentiated elenient. The corxistenci- of individuals in a whole may modify their dirterence-, l»ut cannni eonstruct them out of nothing. But this, I iniJigine, would not be denied by Professor Mackenzie, and it is iniii«»s?,ibk to di>pute his asser- tion that no individual, and no part of any in ill. inirmiuetion to Soeifil Phikmophij, CLap. ni. p. IM. My refereiicee ure to the edition of ISW. « tfi. eit. €h»P'. HI. p. Iti6— 171. Ci THE CONCEPTION OF SOCIETY AS AN ORGANISM 181 would be what it now is, except for the influence of the society to which that individual belongs. But what does this come to, when it is admitted ? Surely to nothing else than the assertion of complete reciprocal deter- mination, which is involved in organic connection, biit is by no means etjuivalent to it. As som as we realise that causjil determination is complete and reciprocal, and that the dis- tinction between essence and appearance is illegitimate, we are able to assert about any twr* things in the universe tlie relation which Professor Mackenzie has i>ointed out between the in- of anything can be inse relations that the inner nature ^can manifest itst^f. On the .ither hand, relations to other things are iiieaningl*-- . \.-,.|>t in relation to the internal nature of the thing. A merely passivr suliject of relations is impos- sible, as the category of Reciproeit\- lias already taught us. If A is m,u because it is related to BO. this is not a merely external relation. For it musi l>e ascribed to the nature of A that BC prothiiig whalevei m A which is indeiKMident of its relations to li, 0, &c.— need not involve more than the category of Absolut*! Mechanism. And, in admitting this category, we have by no means reached the idea of organic unity. No unity, it is clear, can he organic which is a mere means to the separate ends of its constituent individuals. And there is > op, cii. Chap. in. p. 150. THE COXCEPTIOX OF HOCIETY AS AX OROAX18M JfcOlJP ; nothing in the category of Absolute Mechanism U> hinder this from being the case. Each individual, it is true, is, under this category, determined througliout by the unity in which he stands with the oth.r individuals of the same system. But ends, means, and hindrances to ends, all exercise causal deter- iniiiation over objects. A man is causally determined alike by the moral ideal which he holds, by the dinner which he eats, and by the hatreds which he feels. But this need not prevent us Irom wiying that the first of th<'se is an end, gcMxl in itself, the second a means, which has valui" .»nly in so far as it enal)les us to carry out the end, and the third a hindrance to carrying out the c*nd, and. thnefore. jMisinvely bad. Acc<»rdingly we find that tho.se theories ot society which carry individualism furthest an- quite consistent with the categ.iry of Absolute Mechanism, and with the admissi.»n(if intrinsic relatitins between the members of society. I'he hermits of the early Church regarded society as detrimental to man's highest interests, and conse^piently as an evil to be avoided as tar as fMissible. and to be steadily resisted when unavoidable. A hed(»nist regards society as only justifiable in so far as it produces, for each of the individuals who compose it. a greater amount of private happiness than he would otherwise have enjoyed. Both these positions are .piite compatible with the intrinsic relations which we have been considering. For each of them w.mld have admitteose which it subserves lies witliin itself is e«iually jippjireut. What the end is, it may be difficult to determine; but it is eiLsy to jjerci 'ive that it is some l^irm of hnman well-being'." Professoi- Mackenzie seems here to a.>sume that " some fonn of human well-l>eing" must lie within society itself. But this, thimgh it may be true, is by no means neces.sary. xVU human bcini^s are at present witliin society, l>ut it is possible that the\ may cea.se to be so in the future, and that the human weil-lMiing which it is the object of society to promote may be one in wliich society is broken up, and the individuals isolated. (I am not, of eelf prove that the future and ideal huniau beinj^ will also be in s«x;iet\ -.) 196. The end of a schmil, for example, is the well-being of the boys, and the boys form the school. Nevertheless, the schoi::>l is not an end in itself For boys leave school when they grow up, and the end of the scliool is their welfare throughout ' •»/>. eit. Chap. ill. |>. 116. « rr*.f.-s?*or Mtickt'n/.if ii[»j»'eari, in one paragra|>li at least, to recognize this. For in the coiiclmliiiti jMinnugi? of Chap. in. (p. 2():h he achnitB, if I undewtand him ri^'liUy. that b«fort* we can proiwrlj call society an orKanisni we must emuiire whetlier the ideal hiimau well-being, which is the end of society, ia itmjlf social. But sinct.% in the pawage qiuited above from p. 176, he appears to assert ex illicit I j that human well-bting is, an such, social. I thought it well to deal with both iiositions separately. The view ttated on p. 203, and developed in Chap. iv.. will be considered later. THE CONCEPTION OF SOCIETY AS AN ORGANISM life, when they will certainly have left school, and may easily be completely isolated from all their old school-fellows. Now what is undoubtedly true of this fraction of society may be, according to some theories, true of society as a whole. Let us take the ca.se of a man who believed that society existed for the promotion of true holiness, as the highest end of man. while at the same time he defined holiness as a relation which existed between God and a particular individual, and which was independent of — even incompatible with— any relations between the individuals themselves. Now any one who be- lieved this— and something very like it has been believed— would (piite admit that the end of society was ncithing else than human well-being, since he wi)uld conceive that the greatest human well-being lay in holiness. But the end of Hocietv would not be in itself; on the contrary, it would be something which could only be realized when society itself hail ceased to exist. Again, consider the case of a hedonist who should hold that the one end of society was to make the sum of ph-asures felt by its individual members, taken as isolate* 1 beings, as large as possible. Such a man would hold that the end of society was a form of human well-being, while he would n.)t reK-iJ' itself, and to its own [jarts. Otherwi.se we shall include among organic unities systems which exist as bare means for the cjirrying out of ends which are indifferent, or even hostile to thi- unity. 'I^. call such systems organic would be impro|>er, in the first place, because that woi-d hiis always been emi>loyed to denote a relatively close unity, while such a use would exH'iid it to all unities whatever. Every aggregate of individuals which were not akwlutely isolated from each other, and in which the con- nection was not reduced to the level of mere delusion, would be classed as organic. THE COXCEITIOK OF SOCIETY AS AN ORGANISM, And, iw the second place, not only would such a definition flepart coffipletelj from the ordinary usajjc, but it would render the term us«?Iei«. When we siiid that a unity was organic, we should only eay that it was a unity. It would be useless, for eiampie, to sjiy that society was organic. For we should only thereby deny the iwisertion that the individual, or any part of liiiii, is uninfluenced by being in society. If any person does hold this reiuarkable view, I am unable to say; but it is certainly not of sufficient weight to render it worth while to appropriiite such a convmieut' word as organic to express disbelief in it. Meanwhile, the distinction — of such cardinal importance in jiolitical theor)'— between those whti admit and those who rganic is commonly used of animal and \«'g*'f'dtl.' life. Now thf dcfiniti^m I have proposed would include animals and vegetables, and would not include anything which did not bctar a tohrably close resemblance to biological unity. Such a definition woidd mark a division in our present subject^matter which would be worth making. There are two theoru«s at the present day as to the nature of siwiety. and esfiecially of the state, eacli of whicli has considerable practical influence, and for earh of which much can be said that must be carefully considered by any student. They differ by the i THE CONCEPTION OF SOCIETY AS AN ORGANISM 187 admission or rejection of the idea of society as an end in itself, and it would be convenient to refer to th^-m as the organic and inorganic views of society. Hegers example would be cm our side. For in the Logic he makes .scarcely any distinction between the idea of an immanent end and the idea ..f lifc. And I imagine that this definition would not be disappnived by Professor Mackenzie'. 197. Is society the end of man '^ This is the (piestitm which we have now to answer. Let us enquire, in the tirst place, what general informatit)i» we possess regarding our supreme end. If we turn to Hegel, we find that for him the supreme end is amither name f\)r Absolute Reality, which, anb .specie aeternifatis, is eternally pre>.nt, l)ut. suh specie tem}mri% pre- sents itself as an idea? and a goal. Now Hegel's ron.rption of Absolute Reality is one which, as we liave seen, miulit v«'ry fitly be called a society*. It is a differentiated unity, .»f which the parts are perfeetly individual, and wliich, for that \ery reason, is a prfect unity. To call such a unity organic would onlv be incorreet becansf it \\a> inarhMjuate. And thus Absolute Reality would lie the most perf.*ct of all soeitties. Just because the individual was such a complete individual, he would have all his perfcctit.n, and all his reality, in nothing else but in his relations to other individuals. Or. to quote Professor Mackenzie, "no attainnii'iit of the id**al (»f our rational nature is conceivable excejit by f»ur being able to see the world as a system of intelligent beings who are iiuitually worlds for each other'." The end of man, then, is a soeirty. But we are now considering "social philoso|>hy" and nr.t thrology, and what we want to know is not (»ur relation to the kingdom ot heaven, but our relation to M.ciety as it is now arouml us, ane in an earthly fiiture. Now it is .pute clear that, whatever this ideal .M.»ciety, which Hegel makes I Cp. above S«ctiun lOI. note, and tlit' IntnHbietiun to Sonal Phiimophtf, Chap. ni. p. 203. - Cp. above Stftioiirt -iUl -21m. 3 ttp. eit. Chap. iv. p. 2W. 1 THE CONCEPTION OF SCX:iETY AS AN OROANISM our end, may be, it is not the society whicli we have round 11:8 to-day. Absolute Reality, according to Hegel, is ctenial, and cannot be fully realised in any state of the worltl which is still subject to succession in time. Absolute Reality must isee and be seen under the highest category only, and is not reali,sed while any realit\- is unconscious of itself; or appears to others under the forni of matter. Absolute Reality, finally, is incompatible with pain oi- imperfection. This is clearly not tlie society in which we live, and we are not entitled to argue that the society of the present is an organic unity, because the ideal society is such a unity. But although they are not identical, tlit- sciety of the present organic ? 198. It luixhtseeiu as if we had inaile an important step in this direction wht-n \\r n-thM-ted that in a system like society. wh«»sr parts an- sflf-coiiscious individuals, out,- <»f the strongest fon-i's towanls making the systiiii oiMranic is the conviction that it ought t.» be so. For it will be an ..iganism if the individuals make it their end. N<'W it must be admitted that our con- viction of what ought to be our end will not always decide what onr end actually is. A man's end may be above or below his the<»reiieiil o[)iiii»>n about it. He may acknowledge the higher, and yet pnrsii.- the lower. Or he may explicitly ackni»wleilge only the lower, and yet pursue the higher, moved by some vague impulse, which he can neither justify nor resist. Still, on the whole, the belief that anything would be a worthy end has a great intluenee in making it a real one. Can we, then, establish the organic nature of present society as an ideal, if not as a fact? Can w.; say that the society of this world ought to be «irgaiiic, and that we shall do well in proportion as we make it .so by reganling the various relations, natural and civic, which constitute it, as the end of our individual lives? The ultimate end, indeed, it cannot be. Nothing but the heavenly 8<:)ciety can be that, and, since anything earthy must be difierent from absolute reality, our prc'sent .society, even if improved as far as 'possible, could never THE CONCEPTION OF SOCIETY AS AN ORGANISM 189 be anything higher than the means to the ultimate end. But, in reference to all the activities and interests of our individual lives, it might be said that present society might be rightly considered as the end, since it is only by working in it and through it that we can progress towards the ultimate ideal which alone can fully satisfy us. This, if I uiuleistand him rightly, is something like the position which Professor ^lackenzie adopts. Having said, m the passage quoted abov*', that "no attainment of the ideal of our rational nature is conceivable, except by our being able to W'e the wiM Jis a svstem of intelligent beings who are mutually worlds for each other," he c.mtmues, "now, how hr it is pissible to think of the whole world in this way is a cpiestion for the Philosoiihy of Religion to discuss. It is enough for us here to observe that, in so far as we vimir into relations to other human beings in the world, we an- attaining to a partial realisation of the ideal which our rational nature sets before us. And there is no othiT way by which wf coine to such a realisation. In so far as the world is merely material, it remains foreign and unintelligible to us. It is only in the lives of other human beings that we tind a w<»rld in which we can be at liome. Now in this iiict we obvi.,usly tind a much deeper significance ftir the organic nature of >or,rty than any that we have yet reached. For we see that the society of other human beings is not merely a m«-ans of bringing our own ratii.nal nature to clearness, but is the only object^ in relation to which such cleaniess can be attained'. 199. I must confess, however, that I am unable to set? that this argument is valid. It is true that the ultimate ideal is a state of sixiety whicli is organic. It is true, too, that only through our present society can that im wh.-re wr an. and at present we are in soeirty. It may be granted, t«K>, that it is ahnost increi liblr that a pi-nod of absolute social .haos shouhl intervene between us and the gi»al,and that the iin»gress to that goal may siiAjly be considered iis made continuously throiigh society. Yet it dws not follow, 1 submit, that it w op. (If. Chap. IV. p. 260. 190 THE CONCEPTION OF SOCIETY AS AX ORGANISM regani mr present society as an eiicL For although our progress to the ideal is through it, that progress is often negatively w^lated to it Our ad,vance often-^to some extent ah^rays-- consists io breaking up and rising above relations which, up to that pint, had been part of the constitution of society. And w, the«5 relations cannot l)e regan;lerthjess, when we find a more* ailequate exi»rissi(>ii or a more direct rcMM I . The abstract form i >f society, indeed, remains. In whatever wav wi* work out .mr destiny, we work it f»ut in one an<»ther'8 coiiiiiany. But if the imrticniar relations which constitute our prew'iit scK'iity at any nMiinint are to be Km >ked on as mejins, to be *liscanl«i when better ones can be found, this is sufficient to destroy the claims of our firesent society to be considered organic. For the abstract tiict that iiidividuids are somehow conueetefl, am n*"ver l»e sufficient to unit.* them in an oi-ganic unity. Inilividuals can never find their end. which must be ».iiuething concrete, not abstract, in the bare fact of their connection with one another. It is only some particular connection that they can accept jis their end, and it is only in respi'Ct of some i>aiticiilar connection that they are organic. And if, as I suggested abovr, any prticular relations which we find in the society of the present day must be looked on as mere m€»ans, it will be impossible to regard that soeietv itself as I »rganic. 200. The correctness of this statfinent remains to be considered. My object has iMjen so far to assert, not that our present stwiety ciiiinot l»e regarded as an organism, but that there is nothing in the Hegelian inetapliysics which can fairly be taken as [iroving, or even us suggesting, the organic nature of that society. It will be for tlie other sitle to prove, if they can, that the jierfect society of Absolute lieality will f)e found to be constituted on the same plan as our present society, THE CONCEPTION OF SOCIETY AS AN ORGANISM 191 joining and sundering in heaven those who are joined and sundered on earth. No attempt has been made, so far as I know, to prove this, nor is it easy to see how it could be proved. Indeed, there is a strong presumption, to say the least, that the oppi)site is true For when we come to consider what detennines the actual relations in which men Hnd themselves in society— the relations of family, of school, of professitin, of state, of church— we Hnd that overwhelming influence is exereised by considerations which w© cannot suppose will have overwhelming influence in that ideal society in which all our aspirations would be sitisHed. Birth of the same jmrents, birth on the same side of a river, a won»an's beauty, a man's desire— such are the causes which oaen determine, in our present society, what individuals shall be most closely related together. All these things are no di>ubt real, in some degree, and therefore are to some degree rejirescnted in the ideal ; but to suppose that they are as imiH>rtant thcr. as tliey are here. w.>uld be to forget that in that ideal we are to tind "a world in which we can be at home." No ihmhi the s<.ciety of the present is the natural and inevitable introductirm to the society of the futiuv. but it is so only in the same way a.s everything else is. Of everything which has ever hai>peni'd in the world, of anarchy as well as of society, of sin as well as of virtue, of hatred as well as of love, the fact that it has hajipene*! proves that it was a necessary incident ill the movement towards tlie ideal. But this can give it no more than a derivative value. I Hnd myself associated with Smith in a Parish Council. This no doubt is a stage in our progreas towards th.- ir, if such elements do exist, they certainly are n<.»t able to exerciw an imc»»ii tested influence over the world. And it is pThafw for this reason that the deepest emotions are apt, if they have any effect on society, to have a negative and disintegnitiii!; effect, at least as for as our present observation will carry us. They may bring peace on earth in the very long run, but they begin with the sword. Nothing, surely, coidd so etfeetiv.-ly degrade |)resent society from the fMisition of an end to that ot a means, enly valuMble as leading « m U* something else, than such a state of things, if it should prove to be true, if \\v have, here jind now, partial ex|H*rience of something whose complete realisiition would give us utter and absolute siiiisfaction, how can we avoid a relation of partial hostility to a state of society which refuses ns that supreme gf swial pn:)gfes8,. Whatever makes society more or«iiii€ is an aiivain.:.. Whatever make.s siiciety le« organic is retrograde." This argiiiiieiit 8*?em8 to me fallacious. \\ e must rememDer that, while the Absolute is a |ierfect unity, it is a perfect unity of |)erfect individuals. Not only i-^ the bond of union closer than anything which we am ar.vv eviii imagine, but the persons \vh..m it unites are each sell-conscious, se It-cent red*, unique, to a degree equally uniinaginal»le. It; «»n the one side, we are detective- at present l)rc;iu>r u»' are not joined closely enough together, we are detective, on the other side, because wv are not sufficiently that they are ,iee..>arily connected. None but jierteet individuals could unite in a i>ertect unity. Only in a jMitrit unity eunld perfect iiidividiials exist. But Hegel al>M points mit that mir advance t.'»waitls an ideiil is m 'ver direct. Kwiy idral can be analysed into two compl. ni.iitary moments. Ami in advancing towards it we nnphasise. first, one of these, and then, driven on in the dialeclH- process by the cmsequrnt inrn,nplet.'nr>s and coo- tradicti.»n, wr placr a corresponding emphasis i»n the other, and finally gain a higher Irvrl by uniting^ the two. j This is the I legelian law of progress. To apply it to the present eaM% it tells us that, in advancing towanls an ideal where we shall lie liotli more ditierentiated and niojv united than we are now, we shall emiiliasise tirst .ithu- the ditlereu- tiation or ilie union, and then suiii»lenient it by the other; that we shall reach thus a higher stati' r»f equilibiium, from which a fteah start must be made, juid so on, through con- tim;jjilly rejieated oscillations, to\vai-ds the goal. It would tiillow, then, that it would be im|)ossil)le f^jr us to .say that a change in the constitution i»f soeit'ty was only good if it drew men more eh wely together. F» »r an advance ill either ear, till the corres|)oiiding advance »• Self-centred, dim not. with Hegel, uieiin bttlMed. Indeed, tll« two^ fwiilttka tm incompatible. THE CONCEPTION OF S(X:IET\' AS AX ORGANISM is made in the other, to amount to a positive decrease in the latter, which has become relatively less imjiortant. If, in any state of sssible, because the emphasis laid * on one side furnishes the pt 'laiately, an.l it can give us no information as to whii'li. here and now, we have to take next. That must depend on the particular circumstances which surround us at the moment — our needs, dangers, resources. It can only be de- cidtMl empirically, and it will just as often l)e a step which throws the unity into the backijround as it will be one which brings it forward into increased pr«»minence. There is no want of liistorical examples which illustrate this altiTiiate movement of society. The institution of private pi-operty, the tirst establishment of Christianity, and the break- ing up of the feudal systeiu— each involv.il an increased emphftsis on the individual. And each t« iKled to make .stx;iety, as it was, not more but less of an organism, by giving the individual claims and ideals which could not be satistied in so.-irty as it wa-s, and some of which— sucli as |»arts of the Christian ideal — amnot be >atistied on earth at all. Vet they were all ste[)s in a real advance; fnv they gave an increased individuality to the parts of SMCi.-ty oii which have been ba^sed unities far closer than couhl havi- bet-n attained without them. And Wf can see now that, if the Hegelian conception of the Absolute had been known when any •.f these changes was hapiKjning, it would have been a mistake to have condemned I 1% THE aiNCEITlON (IF SOCIETY AS AN ORGANISM. tlie chaDge on the ground that it diminished instead of in- creasing the unity of sf»ciety. So, too, with the present. We are confronted to-day with schemes both for increasing and diminishing the stringency of social ties. On the one hand we are invited to nationalize the |)rocate can only be determined by each enquirer thr«)iigh his own study of the text. In short, if this Chapter is of any utility to the student of Hegel, it must be by suggesting t«> him a p«iint of view which is to be judged by his own knowledge of Hegel's works, and especially of the Philosophy of Religion. MEOELIANISM, AND CHRISTIANITT aOT. Hegel repcmtetlly speaks of Christiaiiity as the highest of all religions, as the Ahsohite Religion, and as trae. This is ft fact of the first iniportaiice to our study of the question before us. But it is not, as is sometimes supposed, a sufficient answer to it. We must ask two preliminary questions. First— did even the highest religion express, according to Hegel, absolute truth ? Second— was Hegel using the word Chnstianity in a sense which bears any similarity to the ordinary signification of the word ? Moflt of this Chapter will be employed in investi- gating the second of the^e questions, and the perplexities in which * Mir answer may involve us will perhaps be solved by considering the first. Christianity is a won! of ambiguous meaning. By such us count themwives Christians it is. of course, applied especially to that system «»f religion which each of them, since he holds it to be tnie. holds to be truly (Christian. But it is also aiiplied, both by Christians and others, in a wider sense. It is used as a general name for various systems, more or less ditlering from one another, but having a general resemblance. No reasonable person would reAise the name of Christian either to Calvinists or to Arminians, either to the Church of Rome or to the Church of Kni(land. The precisi? limits .»f theological belief, however, within which the word is applicablf, are very uncertain. No one, indeed, would deny that Berkeley ought to be calli'd a Christian, and that Spinozji ought not. But what amount of variation from the more (Nimmon i'ormn oft 'hristianity is conqjatible with a pr«»i»er application of the term? This is a (juestion on which not many i Jhristians seem to be certain, and on which still fewer seem to be agreed. Any attempt on the pirt of outsiders to determine the question wouM he not only arduous, but impcjrtinent. I shall therefVire coniine myself to an endeavour to show what views Hegel entertained on certain theological subji-cts of eanlinal inqMtrtance, without venturing an opinion as to the pnipriety of railing such a religious system by the name of Christian. 1208. The |i« lints on which Hegels system appears to ha\e, prinm Jacie, the most striking resemblance to Christianity are HEGELIANISM AND CHRfSTIAXFTY 199 three : the doctrines of the Trinity, of the [ncamation, and of Original Sin. In connection with each of these we have to discuss a second. With his bcdief as to the Trinity of God is closely connected his belief as to Cod's personality. His treatment of the Incarnation as a general truth will compel us to enquire also into his view c»t Jesus as a historical person. And his doctrine of < )riginal Sin will suggest the question of the similaritv of his ethicrd system to that generally fisscx-iated with Christianity. We have thus six points to (h'terinine. 209. With reganl to the Trinity and Pers( »nality of Goortanee of this primary triad is mainly fnr the d(Knrine of the Fers^mality of (J . ssential existence, in-and-i^>r-self, is present in thought, the Idea in its absolute truth. ... ** For sensuous or retlective consciousness G(m1 cannot exist » Pliilumphtj of Etliifim, ii. 221—223 (trans, iii. 4— «). iWU' H'TOILIAXI.HM AND CHIU.STIAXITY US Goci t.^., in His eternal and absDhite essentiality. His inanifestotioii «f Himself is something rliflferent froin this, and is made to sensuous miisciousness.... Spirit r-xists fi>r the spirit for which it docs exist, only in ^*> for » i^ reveals and difter- cntiates itself; and this i> th.- eternal M.-a. thinking Spirit. Spirit in the element of its IreiMloTii. In this region G«xl is the self-revealer, just because He is Spirit; bnt He is not yet present as uutwanl manifestation. That G< »d exists for Si>int is thus an essential principle. 'Spirit is what thinks. Within this pnr*' tliought the relation is of an imnirdiate kind, and th.-iv exists no ditlerenee betwi-en the two eleni. nts t.i ditlert-ntiate tliem. Nothing comes 1m tw«*fn them. I'hought is pure unity with itself, frr>in which all that is obscure an*l t, a,s these two do lu .t yet really exist. Tliis kind of tln-ught has no limitation, it is univeiml activity, and its r.»iitent is only the Universal itself; it is [Hire pulsation within itself. **(2) It, how.v.'i-, piuises furtlitT int«. the stage of absolute Diremption. I Ii»w of modes in which the pri,nciple appears, show their ditiereiice in their di tiering starting- |x:*ints. The one side, subjective thought, is the movement of thought in s.. far as it starts from immediate individual Being, and, while within this, raises itself to what is Universid and Infinite.. ..lii so far as it hai arrived at the stage of the I'niver.ml, thought is unlimited : its end is infinitely pure thought, so that all the mist <»f finitude hiis disappeared, and it here thinks (hhI; e\try trace of .sei)aniti«m has vanishtKl, and thus religion, tliinking upon (Ir its starting- jioint the Universal, the result of that first movemeiil, tliought. the X«»tion. The Universal is, howevir, in its turn again an inner movement, and its nature is to differentiate itself within itself^ and thus to HEGEIJANISM AND CHRISTIANITY 201 preserve within itself the element of difference, but yet to d.> this in such a way as not to disturb the universality which is also there. Here univer«ility is something which has thi^ element i)f difli^jrence within itself; and is in harmony with itself. This represents the abstract content of thought, and this 'abstract thought is the result which has followed from what has taken place. "The two sides are thus mutually opiK»se.l or contrasted. Subjective Thought, the th. mght of the finite syiirit. is a Process too.'inner mtMliation : but this process ijoes on outside of it, or behind it. It is in only sr itselt; is, however, just the work of philosophy, and is the entire content of philosopliy. In it it is seen how all that constitutes Nature and Spirit presses forward in a dialectic form to this central jioint as to its absolute truth. Here we are not concerned to prove that the dogma, this silent mystery, is the eternal Truth. That is done, as has been siiid, in the whole of philosophy'." Thr • tternal Prneess" in rpiestion had been exjilaineil just l>efore to l>e that of Father. Son, and Sjiirit. Now if this is " the entire cosit itself as such^" This is a descripti.m which exactly corresponds with the description of the dialectic process to be found in the Logic. Once more, when 8jM?aking (.f the objections brought by the imdei-stAndimr against the tri|.Iicity of the divine nature, he says "If.. -we regard the matti-r from the |H.int ..f view of logic, w*' >.'.' that the One has inner dudectk movement, and is ito^ truly indei»endcnt '." (The italics are Hegel's.) 'fhc Trinity, theret^.re, is for Hegel a dialectic |)rocess. It is not ..nc of the chain of triads which form the Logic. A dialectic jirocess can begin wlim-vcr pun- thouglit asserts an inadequate idea— in this case, the idea «it OikI the Father— of reality. And this jiarticular inadetiuate idea is not «»ni' <>f those througli which we pass from Being to the Absolute Idea. But all dialectic proces.ses, if ccnnplete, must l»ave the mnxa end. For there is only one Ahsolnte Idea, and none but the Absolute Idea is free from contnwliction. And acconlinglv we can .see that the third moment of the Trinity -the Synthesis— is • op. cit. li. •J2U (tran-. iii- 1'^). - np. rit. ii. 2:i2 (trans, iii. 1«»). 3 ,./'•'■''• ''• -■*** (trans, iii. 23). mi IIIOELIAXISM AM> CHRISTIAMTY identical with the Abwiliite Idea, which is the final Synthesis of the Logic. CVlw I'hilii.Mijihy »*f lieligiiiii as a wlioie does not stop where the F^,ij(ic tloes. It jinKjeeds to in«.,m.» concrete forms. But it does this in the Kiiigd« nm of the Son and of the Spirit. The Kiiiedom *»f the Father, which contains the abstmct I D idem of all thn^f^ inonients of tl»e I'rinity, is, like the subject matter of the Logic, jiure thi, Might only.) 212. In every fiialectic triad it is certain that the Synthesis contains all the truth which thei-e is in tlie triad at all. The Thesis and Antithesis :uv not devoid uf all trnth. But then the Thesis an*i Autith.-sis a,i-e tninsci-ndfd and reeoiiciled in the Synthesis. In so tar as tln-y ai-r inn*, tht-y an- contaiiird in tin* Synthesis. In si,» lar as they a^siTt thenisi'lvfs to be any- thing more than inoinnits iit th.- SyntlH'>is, in so tar as they claim to I)*' indejM-nihiit trrms, oidy ext<*!iially connected with the Synthesis— in s*t far tli«-\- an- false. There can be; no doubt, I think» thjit this was Hegel's view, and that, on any other view, I lie dialeeti*- jUiMrHS is invalid'. 213. According to Hegel's exj»ositir»n, the Father and the Son are the Tln*sis and Antithesis of a triad of which the Holy Ghost is th«* Svntln-sis. It will follow iht]ii this that the Holv Ghost is th«' solr reality «»f th«' Trinity. In so far as the Father and the Son arr i-*-al. they an* nioin.-nts in the nature of the Holv Ghost. In 8o far as thev arr taken as correlatiM- with the Holy Ghost, and as on llir same level with the lattei-, they are taken wrongly an.. that the imppipriety of counting whole and i»arts in one aggregate is as great m one case as in the other. In all this there is nothing. I think, whicli makes Hegel at all inconsistent with himself But it takes us a go.id way from the ordinary doctrine of the Trinity. 214. We now pa.ss to our second (piestion— the Personality of (lod. We must begin by considering the nature of the primary triad of the Philosophy of Religion, which we Unn- IH.rarily i>ost|M,ned. Ut ihe^ Heg.l says, " We liave, spi.iking generally, t<» consider the Idea as tlie divin*- self-revelatiou, and this revelati..n is to be taken in tlu- s.nse indicated by the three categories just mentioned. "AccM»rding U> the first of these, God exists in a pure form for the finite spirit (udy as thought. This i> th.- theoretical consciousness in which the thinking subje.t .xIm-^ m a (condition of absolute cmjiosure, and is not yet pisited in tins relation, not yet piisited in the furm of a process, but e.vists in the absolutely unmovcfl calm of the thinking spirit. Here, for Spirit. GcmI is thought of, and Spirit thus rests in the simple conclusion that He brings Himself into harmony with Himself 206 IIWiELIANISM AXri CHRISTIANITY hj iiieaoB of His dif!«:!n-nrc»— which, however, here exists only ill the fonii of pure i'ieality. and has not yet reached the force of externality—and is in immediate unity with Himself This w the first of these relations, and it <*xists s«)lely for the thinking subject which is f mental pictuns i»r id.Jis. This is the moment of Hi-i«ualit»iJ or iiarticuliinsatinii in '^iiural. Lxik.-d at tVoiii this aecond stand|,M:»int, what in tlit> tir-st place rt:-[»ri-si:nted ( ItuVs Other or olijrct, without, howvwr. In-ing ilefiiied as such, now recfives tlie chara<-ter or dt't.ermination, of an ( Hhi'i: ( 'unsidered from the first >iand[Miiiit, ( Jod, as the Son is not distinguished froiii th<- P'allhT, liut what is stated of Him is i-xprrsstd merely in terms of tV-eliug. in connection with the second elenjent, however, the Siiii is chararTrii-.d as an Other or object, and thus we puss out of the pure ideidity of Thought in,to the region of figurative thought. If; accrtrdiiig to the fi.rat characterisation, (joil begets only one Son, here he pr(. the content. Man is here involved in the content. Since Man is fiere related to Xature, and is himself natural, he has this character ordy within the .sphere of religi<»n, and consequently \sv have here to consiming of thi* Son into the world w.- [in- already u.sing the language of faith. 1mm 1 cannot really exist for the finite spiiit as such, for in the very fact that iUnl exists for it is directly involved that the finite spirit dt)es not maintain it.s finitude as sometliing having Being, but that it stands in a certain relation to »Spirit and is reconciled to Gmi In its character m the finite spirit it is represented as in a state of revolt and separation with re'gard to G^od. It is thus in HEGEUAXISM AND CHRISTIAXITY 207 contradiction with what is its own object and content, and in this contnvlicti'Ui lies the necessity for its abolition and elevation to a highir form. The necessity for this supplies the starting-point, and the next step in advance is that God exists for Spirit, that the «livine content presents itself in a pictorial f«»rm to Spirit. Here, however, Spirit exists at the same time in an eni|)irical and finite form, ruid thus what Gml is apiMjars to Spirit in an empirical Wiiy. Since, however, the Divine comes inl«» view, and exists foi- S[>irit in history of this kind, this hisi.uy has im longer the charact»-r of outward history; it becomes divine history, the history of the mani- festation of (hhI Himself This institutes the transition to the Kingil«»m of the Spirit, in whicli we have the consciousness thai Man is implicitly reconciled to iavd, and that this re- conciliation exists for Man'." 215. These three stages, like the three sulxli visions of the KinL'dom of the Father, which we have consifiered above, are for Hegel a remarked aliove, the dialectic method is tor \ legel the only wav in wliieh our thought can reach a priori to a conclusion which is nut contaim-d in the prenii.ses from which it starts. The following paasiiges will illustrate the view which Hegel takes i»f the connection between tlie three " Kingiloms." "The Notion as well as Being, the worl). 208 HEOELIANISM AND CHRISTIANITY HEGELIANISM AND CHRISTIANITY I that etenial movement which God nem of that et^enial liistor}-; Himself 18. "This is th<* cii'scriptioii of the secoiicl Idea as Idea m ontwanl maiiitestAli*m, a...l of how the eternal Idea has come to exist for the immediate cert:iinty of Man, t.e, of how it has appeared in history. The tiict that it is a certainty for man necesHnrily implies that it is material or seimimiis certainty, but one which at the same tin.e i.a». s nuv int.. s{>iritnal coiiscioiisneas, and for the same reas, ►n is eonverted into im- mediaie s.-nsiioiisness, but in euch a way tlmt we recognize io it the movement, the history of (Jnd, the iifo which God Himselt i>\ . . , . , The fact is that the triad we are eoiisidenng is identical with the triad of I ^ie, Nature, and Spirit which forms the whole content of thr Encyclopaedia, and this triad is iin- ipiestioiialily dialectic". 216. Now if this triad is a dialectic process which exhibits the nature of (;od, it will follow that if God is really pi'rsonal, He must l»e |»erN.iiial in the Kingd<»m of tli.' Spirit. For that is the Synthesis, and in that, alone, therrfniv. do we g*-t an ,aile*:|uate"'reprrsenta,tion of Gwi's nature, if He wer..^ pfrs..nal, as manifr-sted in tlie tirst and second Kingdoms, Imt not in the tlurd. it uould mean that I fe Wiis personal when viewed iiiadet|iia,t-ty, but not when vi.-urd adequately— i.e., that He was not really fiersonal. In supiMirt of the statement that Gmi is only ade(juately known when He is known in the Kingdom of tlie S[)irit, we may quote the folh.win- pas>agis,Mn the Ego. as in that which is annulling itself as finilr, God returns to Himself and only aa this return is He God. Without the world ( loil is iiiit God '. ' And again. *■ < hxl regarded as Spirit, wlieu lir remains al»ove. wh«^n He is not prijseiit in His Church as a living Spirit, is HiniMjlf characteriseil in a merely one-sided waj as obiect*." > Of. cit.ii, 'Mm itrn.n«. m. 2 Cp. Studie.t in the llrtjeliuti Itinhctir, Sect long IIS— 100, 131—132. » Phikmfph^ of Heligwn, I VU (trana. i. JW|. * op. cit. u, lOT {tmm, ii. 334). Again, "It is not in immediate Appearance or manifestation, but only when Spirit has taken up its abode in the Churcli, when it is immediate, believing Spirit, and raises itself to the stage of thought, that the Idea reaches perfection ■ And, again, *' Spirit is infinite return into self, mfimte subjectivity not Godhead conceived by means ot figurative ideas, hut\he real present Gcxlheaxl, and thus it is mit the substantial potentiality of the Father, not the True m the objective or antithetical form of the Son, but the subjective PrVsent a..d Real, which, just because it is subjective, is present as estrangement into that olijective, sensuous repre- sentation of love and of its iuHnite sorrow, and as return, m that uHMiatmn. This is the Spirit of (UA, or God as present, real Spirit, God dwelling in Hij Church^" 217. It is in the Kingdom of the S[»irit, then, that we must lor.k f;»r an adequate representation of (mmI's nature. Now is Goaragraph, 'The third element is the present, vet it is onlv the limited present, not the eternal present, but rather the present which distinguishes itself: from the past an t.ssentially reconciled, one which raises itselt as Wiii ano „ . - i- „ a„.l is bn.ught by n.eans ot th,- ..gati,,,, ... .ts ■„.,n«i.acy to a perfecte.1 for,., as „„iven.vUty. a pcHecUon or -■"P'^-t-n . I t ,...* .>vi«t siiid which is thereuiioii which, however, does not \et exist, and vvm^n i 1 •. A ♦ ,s futun- It is a Now of the present whose U) be conceived ot a> lutun. it is r ,„• l,^i perfect stage «. Utor. .1, but this perfect sUge .« distinguished » op. cit. ii. 242 (trane. iii. 28). « op. cit. ii. 315 (trails, iii. 107). M«T. lA 210 IIEOELIANISM AND CIIRISTIANIXr HEOELIANISM AND CHRISTIANITY 211 tk>f in I fv J 1 I I-' u^ It'*- from the 'particular 'Now which is still immediacy, and it is thtmght of as future'." The Kingdoiii of thi- Spiril, then, consists in the Spiritual Community, or Church (Die Ot -nieinde). Of coursis the Church as we haw it now and h^re is for tm imperfect to he con- si(h:jred as an ade.|uate representatii>ii of Ood. But thi-n this Church is only. Hegel tells u% an inii>erfect fi)rni of that perfected Coinniunity, which fi-tii nw |.oint of view is eternally present, while from another i»oint .»f v i.-\v it must bo conceived as lieii^^ in tlie future. It is this ]>rrfect conmiunity which is the tnie Kingiloin of the Spirit. But in l>ecoining perfect it does not, for Hegel, cease to !»■ a communit\-. 218. GcmI, then, if representr.i adeipuitely is a community. Can ii c«»inmunity be a person' Surely the ans\\.i- to this IS i;ertiiin. A e-mununity is e.»mposed •»f iiersnns. A perfect connnunitv niav !»«* sts conii»K't«' a unity as any jH-rson. But a community cannot be a ■|jersmething wery different — a personal unity. And the tact that no bond but love is meniioned is theretore in favour of the theory that he n. -L)ve thy neighbrnir as thyself. This connnand." says Hegel, *' thought of in th.* abstract and more extended sense as embracing the love <»f men in general, is a command to love '/// men. Tak^/n in this sense, howev.r, it is turned into an abstraction. The [RM.iile whom unc can love, and for whom our love is real, are a few particular individuals; the heart which seeks to embrace the whole of luimanity within itself indulges in a vain attempt to spread out its love till it becomes a mere idea, the o/>y>o.v/^e <>/ real lnre\'' What, then, is tliis lov.- which the individuals of the Communitv feel for one another' This love, he tells us later, "is lU'ither Inimau love, philanthropy, the love of the sexes, nor friendship. Surprise has often been exju-essed that such a noble relationshij. as friendshij) is docs not Hnd a place amongst the duties enjoined by Christ. Friendship is a re- lationship which is tinged with particularity, and men are friends not s< . much directly as i.bjectively, through some substantial bond i»f union in a third thing, in fundamental princii»les, studies, knowle* Ige; the boml, in short, is euu.stituted l)v something t.bjecti\. . it is not attachment as such, like that i,f the man to the woman as a definite particular personality. The love of the Spiritual Comuuinity, on the other hand, is directly mediated % the worthlessness of all particularity. The love of the man for the woman, or friendshii», can certainly » op. ctt. li. 2'J2 (trans, iii. 83). The italics mm Hegern. 14—2 212 HEfiELIASISM AND CHRISTIANITY „ist bnt thev are essentially characterised as subordinate ; :J;;' I prised .. indeed -.--thin^;;;f ^^^ ^ something imperfect; not as --'^.ng wk hflen-^^ " ..r™,.nfinp a stat«' in which we are n..t I" remain perma reitresenting a swit s^prific(•cl, and must nptitlv since thev are themselves to t). snciinc i. nentlj. smt-c t»i» .,i,M)lute tern tncv and not in anv way injuriously a«fect that .il.soluit unity which l.elo,.K. .■> Spint' " ^^ ^ ^^ 220. It may :«.em "' •^■•^' "^^ ^ ™7;„ ^.rticular m- what this love can W-, s.n.e il must )c lor | ■ -.1 . y.,. fri.oiishin nor sexual love. ,i,v„luals.aml>.t isnctlrr Jcuriouslv narn.w But we must notice that H g. 1 pv, : ^-y^ ,,..tini,ion of fn..o.i4.i,, .xolu.hng rom ,t »" f _ ^ j'^,,,.! :,!tions_that a,r....t,o,. which ne.th.T «";'; "-^,;;-''«,,;3 1 1 •* ,•-■» (lYitsf (-lu'i* 1 Ills, \vni( n inaiiv just.hcat.ou Vh-n m.l its ^ ^^ ^^ Deopli- would fall Iriendshi]), is, 1 tlnnk. uu > r*'" . ■ • 1 1 1 1 !• ,1 <,.n'..tWi.r It IS oi coll so, rpp-inl- .1- th.- l.oi. (.inig. n(s..ii.i.. .. ,• n , ..,;,.,,|.,, Itv " l„v,. to I..- "mcliat.-l by th.. wmthkssness ..I all ,.aUKnl..i it) „li,. NVcrlhl-siKUeit aller Besonderheit). The inconsistency is, 1 ,„ii,k..,nly a,,.-.n.nt. In the H.st ,,assag.. li- ^^^^^^^^ tiatinir tru.- lov.^ iVo.a the s,mn.,us univ.rsaht y of a low to. tialniK "n ,, . u ,.,.,„. f. u-' - I'.— 'n.lerhcil " snoply humauitv. ami h.n- n.- s.. in> i" n . ,• . • », ■ ,, I . -..11.. \l..i.s.h.-n" His obiect is to as u.n.ially opposed t.. all- Mu... lui . " ^ , XKnut ..ut that th.- l..ve of eiich man must be lo. this ami that H r man, 1 that the numUi of th.s,. tor each o us .s ,i,„i,..,. It is impossible that he should have "^--"^^^^''^ K.V.. is real only when w.- I..ve men ... their ,xi.t.c> l.u.t>, .. tho s,....ial >.ns.- i.i which he uses Pa.ticular.ty ... the L.,g.c. 1,-or I'arlicularitv i.. H'-l ^'^^- '^ '''«"'y« "'*«'^ ^^ "''^'■' ' ' Of. cil. ii. 3U (trans, iii. lOti). HEGELIAXISM AND CHKl.STIASITY 213 denote ina.lequacy and error. It would be equivalent to saying that the only real love was love of .nen as they really are not. In the second piss^vge. however, he appears U> use Par- ticularitv in this more definite sens.-, according to which r!i;sti,;o.,shed. not ..ntv from Univcsality, but also from Individullity. In th.s sense, to regard a ,H-rson as partu... ar i. to rega«i him .is contingently au.l .-xtcially «'>•'-""-»• not as a self-detenu,..ing unity with an immanent "— --"^J^ I • f tVir. wonl Jill iviil love wouhl liavi> to Dt me. . t -d ,v th.. w.,.thlessn.-ss .if l'a.ti,ula,i.y. But the re-sult attained would be th.- c....ceplion ol ^^^'> ' ,^ ^.„j. In.livi.lual-a coucepti.m wh.ch un.t.s a.i.l trans . n.ls It. , ,v an,l Paiticula,-.t.v. A.i.l -his a., - w.th ^he p.~ assertion tha, tn.e l„v.. ca.i only be ...r a....ther person as that ''"222 T., retun. fro... this digression. We hav,. th..s come to th.-cmclusio., that Hegel h..Uls that view as f. the pe.^ 1 ,v .T(;od whi.-h I e,..l..av.„„...,l (Chapter HI) t.. sh..w si)..alit> .>l ij.xi «ni I jjcneral »(,,. looii-d |.nns....u..|l.... .1. Ills Mew> on ^'"- h wa-s the l.>gi'.al ' " I For O.kI is i.ient cal nut...... ..f iv,.ility. (o"l IS ....I i....s.mal. bo Uoo , M I , l'...ilitv an.l Absolute Reality can onl> be with Absolut.- lual.tA, aim '^ ' u- u ;. ..If i» 1 .w ., M«-ietv ot l«-rs....s, which it>..lt .s a(l.-iin..it.-ly cmceiv.-.l a-- a s.>ciei.y i o ,...rfi-<-t unitv. but not a pers..... ,. • . ' S ra i.;u...s... s have con.bi,.e.l to prevent this ...U.- pre tation ..f Hegels n,ea.....g l.e...g g.ne.al y accepted. The r f 1 1 l.is ul til. -I- 1^ "IS USL 01 u r<^ „ r...|-v,,ll r value ide.. whi.h has ...-t been without influence on the , in of H 1 that a .na.. who t.-ilk-.l .^.. .uuch about '""■'■' 1 1 ^od (J..1 to be a pei^on. l'>ut this error G.Hl .oust na ^^__ ^ ,.elK,-atedly that bvT; h ....an^ >.n„^v Absolute Ile-ality, what-ver that may r ..d i H o..r . wn fault .f we take h.s language as ■ nplymg I particular thcry about the nature of Absolute ^'1S. There .s a s.u.ilar. but less "^vious mistake, which often leads eu.p.i....s i...o a similar error. It Ood is simply H10ELIAN18M AND CHRISTIANITY Absolute Reality. the„, it is said, eveiything which exists must be GckI. But euch pantheism is a belief against which Hegel coEtioually and most emphatically protests. ^^ ,, -^^^ We must, however, make a distinction The pantheism against which Hegel protests is that which deifies the mass i our everyday ex^rience, taken m a mere aggregate of «eparat« units, and taken in the inadequate and contrudictoiy forms in which it presents itself in evep^day experience. Ihi. is certainly not Hegel's conception of (Jod God, accoiximg to him. is a i>er«ect unity, and is Spirit. God is c^am^. not the aggregate of " facts " of uncritical experience. But it does not fallow that God is not identical with the whole ofAbsoliite Reality For Absolute Reality is by no means, f(.r Hegel, the aggregate of these facts. Such tiicts .r. merely a n^istaken and inadcHi-iate view of Absolute Reality, not devoid, of course. of mil truth, but requiring enorm^ms transfannatmn ai.d iv- construction before they can be fully trui'. And thx-retore the undoubted truth that God is not identical with them, when they are takiii in this way. is no argument against the identity ofGod with Abs(.lute Reality. 224. Again, it is supposed that if Hegel holds Grm of consciousness, and consequently finitiicle • , ;.. u ■ fJoil ix *<-lf-consciousnoss, He knows niniseii IS present HI It, 0,-.ut..s the content of rehg^on^ We deHne C.l ^h.n «- -y, that H- d.sfnguishcs H.ns^lf from Hiinsolf, an,l is an ..b.i..,t f..r Hi,ns..U. but that ... Uus d>s,n,oti..., H,. is punly ,d.....i.al with H..nself. is u. tact Spirit. This .,..t>.... or c-...,...,,..... .s ..ow roahse* , consciousness knows this content and k...ws that it is .ts-lf absolutely .nU-r- ;,h thi« .•.,nt...,l • iu tho Notion which is the process woven w.th this co.it< nt , iii i»" ...n^ of C.-l it is itself a ...o.o..,,.. Finite conscousness knows (.od onlv .,; the extent to whi-h God knows Himself in it thus GO.-1 is S,.irit. the Spuit of His Church .n fact. .. of tho^ who worship Hi.n. This is the ,..rt.et rel.R.on, the No .on becunes objective to itself." I should like to po.nt out in p^„., that this ,«.s.iKe .or.ns .h. best --".nent on the defiuitio.. of the Absob.to I.Ua ... the ^.nailer I..gu. (tn cyclopa..dia, Sectio,. m;.) ^.^^^^_^^ Agan, "Man k.iows (.o.I only .n so i.ir .1- ir • \l..„ This know .•( L'e is <1(m1s siltiuii- k..ows H..ii.self 111 Man. l"'s Known. i>, r , .^ 1 . ;. ;^ .>t th.. same lini'' a knowli'Mf iu a multiplicity of in- Abso Ute spirit to maniu - i dividual, each of wh.mi is a s.lt-cons not uniimiiMi. » np. tit. ii. ll»l (trftn«. ii- S'-i^). ^ op. eit. ii. 41»»i . piinitionof that which is inqilicitly identical, but which main- tains itsi'lf in the Met ..f srparati..n. Regarded from the other side, that of hul.jeeine Spirit, tliis is imsited as pure thought, thoiiiih it is implicitly a result, and tliis has tti be [losited as it is potentially iJi its eharaelrr a> tlir movfrnent of thought, or to put it otherwiwr. [mrr thought has to go into itself; and it is in this wav that it fii*st posits itself as tinit«,'''/* 226. This view errtainly lias stiiking resi'mblances to the Christian dntniry heresies which arise out of lingering trac«'>s of the last miiitioned \ii'\v. For. while Hegel admits that God whrii known a.s incarnate is n«»t known in His perfection, he maintains on th«' other haml that it is the true and perfect GiMJ wlu» is iuearnatrd, and lluis rrjrcts all suggestion tliat the Son is inferi«»r t<» tin,' Father. On the other hand he asserts * Ttie inearnation of CJod in the Kingdom <>f ilu* S.»n iiiUHt li€ carefully ■iiltiiigiii»heil from (icxi's manifftitatiuH ill IiidiviilualH. Tliis latter is th« absoltitti triitli of (iod'H nuiure, and iiereist* in tht* Kingdom of the Spirit. Tlmm Iiulividuab are |»rffct Individual?*, and are not, in He-cl'- terminology-, inite. - i>p. fit. ii. 'Ii»l (traiii. iii. 3SJ. HEGELIANI8M AND CHRISTIANITY' W that G(xi is really incarnate in matter— in so far as matter can be said to be real at all— and so excludes the Docetic th«M»ry that the body of the incarnate God was only a phantasm imitating matter. Here, as always, Hegel rectmciled opposites by unitmg them in a higher reality which included and transcended both. He saw the inadequacy of trying to bridge ov^r a dit!\'n-nce which, so far as it existed at all, was .jualitative, by cpiantitalive concessions. To hold that the incarnate (iod was lu.t tully God, or not really incarnate, was to destroy all the significance of the incarnation, while rennning nonr of its difhcultns. It is as liopeless as thr sin.ilar attrn.pt to bridge over the gulf V»,.tween ( lod and Niituie by the length of a chaui of emanations. As against such vii-ws Hegel asserts the incamatum of wry GrKl in ver>' Man. "In the Church Christ has been called the (M)d-Mau. This is thr rxlraordinary cond^mation which directlv contradicts thr Cn-hrstanding : but the umty of the divine' a.id hunum natures has here l>een brought uito human conscinusnrss and has iM.ome a certainty for it, im- plying that thr otlierness, ur, as it is also express.'d. the finitu.le, the weakness, the frailty i»f human nature is not incon.patible with this unity, just as in the eternal Idea otherness in no way d.tracts from the unity which G.kI is.... It involves tlie truth that tlic -livine and human natures are n«>t implicitly ditVmnt'." 227. But there are other characteristics of Hegel s doctmie of the Incarnation which an- nnt unimportant. God is in- carnate not in one man only, nor in men o.dy. but in everything Hnite. (Men are n.>t intrinsically firut., in Hegel s .,.,•>.• of that w.ird. But men are finite in so tar as they apiiear in the King.lom of tho Son which is the sphere of finitude and in which God only exists as incarnate.) 1 he world .if finitude is nothing but (iod in one moment of the dialectic process of His nature, ami to >ay that a thing is hiute, and til say that it is the incarnation of (J.xl, are uh-ntical. Bor 1 op.cit. ii. -JHii (trauH. in. 70). 218 HEGELIANI.SM AKD CMRISTIANITY HEGELIANISM AND CHRISTIANITY A in there is no reality but GcmI, and if the reality has the imperfect form, of fifiitiicle, this can only mean that it is God in the im,|ierfect form of incarnation. 228. It is true that Hegel is very far from holding that God is ecjually incarnate in all finite ohj«(t> In proportion m^ the finitode is o¥erconie, the iiicamation, is to he considered more perfect. Oik! is more iM;rfectly incarnate in a doj? than in a stone, morr jn-rfectly again in a wicked and foolish man, still more fM-rfVctly in a wise and good man. But if ( Jod is less iiicariiate in >i»iiie tinite things than in othei*s, this is oidy because those things are less real. All the reality in each thing is only in the inainiation of (mkI. For Hegel's view is not that matter was first created as soniething else than the incarnation ot (lod, and that afterwards God became incarnate in it. There is ii«» such j.riority, wliether logiail or teniponil. F«»r the matter is nothing else than the in- caniation of (Unl Defects. *rror, sin. are for Hegel only irnj»erfeetly real. But nothing which is evil is pure and unmixed abstract evil, and therefore all <*vil things have sniHf realitv. And in so far as thiy are real they are ineainatiMns of ( mkL It is only of pure abstract evil that you could say that it was not a form of Oixi. And pure abstract evil is rion-rxistent. (All sin, tor example, is fir Hegel relatively g a simple error. We must examine his treatment of it. He points out that there are two separate questions to be considered. "The question as to the truth of the Christian religion directlv divides itself into two questions: 1. Is it true in general that God does not exist apirt from the Son, and that He ha., sent Him into the world ^ And 2. Was tim man, Jesus of Nazareth, the carpenter's son, the So., ot GuM ..ther have to 1 .k U.r another. if indeed, one is to come, if th-re is a promise to that eftect, ie if it is absolutelv and essentially n.^ssiry. necessary tnun the point of view of the Noti..n. of tlie Idea; ..r, since the eorre<.triess of the Idea is made to ,le,.end on the demonstnU.on of the divine mission retbrred to, we should have to conclude that there can really b.- ik) longer any tliought of .uch a mission, and that we cannot further think about it. "But it is essential that we ask first of all, Is such a manifestation true in-and-for-itselt' '" . We have already seen what is Hegel', answer to the tirst ,,uestion-ihat which relates to the general truth of the doctrine of Incarnation. But the second .(uestion divides into two. (a) In what wav. and tor what reasons, is it necessary to take the incarnation 'of (J^kI in one particular man :is possessing a special significance ? (6) Why should the particular man taken be Jc*sus ? . 230 To the first of thesf- new .,iK.sti.ms Hegel's answer is that the select!.... of the i,....r.>ation i.. o„e partic.lar ...a., has reference, not to unythinK in the ..atm- o. the .n.-arnat.o.. of G.k1 but to the i..abil.ty of ...ank.n-l in general to gra.sp the idea' of thai i..carnation in its truth. "If Man .s to get a ♦• ti.o iiiiitv of divine and human nature, and consciousness ot ttie unity oi ni\un » phikm^phy ofReliffion, ii. UH (tran«. iii. HO). ..I.,. - .j^^-... — — *^ HEOKLIANISM AND CHRISTIANITY of this characteristic of Man as Ijelnngiiig t.* ^lun, in general ; or if this kii<„iwlt:it.v, and it must be universal for imint'diate con.s€iou>nrNS. ** The consciousness of the alisolute liloa, which wc have iu ihouglit, must thereitirc not hi- put forwanl as hehmgiiig to the 8tan«liM»iut <»f |»hilos..|»hical speculation, of sjieculMiivr- tlntught, but must, « m til'* contraiy, apprar in tin* fnrm <>f certainty tor mail in general This ilocs not mean tlia,t th«'\- think this consciousness, nr piiccivc an*! ncogiusc the nrcrssity nt this ld»a • but what \v«' air conc»rncd t«» show is rather that the Idea bcrnnM> f^r th.iu .rr tain, i.e., this Id >tage of certainty, that, so far a< thev ar»' con<-«rned. il nM-riv«'> the form of immeiliate g(.i,Hr-iHrci-|»tion, of out ward existence in sh(>rt, that this Idea appears a N n.-.-u and experienced in the world. I'his unity must; accordingly show itself to con>eiousnrss in a purely temporal, absolutely ordinary nianife>-tation ».t nality, in one particular man, in a detinite individual who is at the same time known to be the DiviiH • bli*a,, not merely a Being of a higher kind ill geiiend:. but rather the highest, tlie Absolute Idea, the Son ot" (j«m1'." 231. "Man in general ' cannot rise to the |)lulosoi)hical idea that all tinitude is an incaniiitiou of < Jofl. He reipiires it in the fi,)rn/i i»f " immediate sens* -[Mfrception." This sense- percepti«>n mu.Ht take the form of one single man, and init of several men. For if more than one \vei» taken, they would have some (ommon »juality which was nut comnn »n to all <»ther men, and it woulrl be th< »ught that it was in virtue ..f that ipiality thai they wen* incarnations of Ood. But it only on«' individual is taken, then the \er\ iiarticularitv anil immeiUacv of that individual, if taken in his own right, tbrces on us the conviction ' up. fit, ii. 28*2 (Irani, iii. 72). HEGELIANISM AND CHRISTIANITY 221 that he is not taken in his own right, but only as an example of a truth which is absolutely univei's;U. This seems to be what Hegel means when he says, " This individual,... who represents f;>r others the manifestation of the Idea, is a particular Only One, imt some ones. f..r the Divine m some would become an abstraetioii. The idea ..f some i^ a miserable superHuity of ntlection, a superHuity because opposed to the concei.tion or notion < >f individual subj.ctivity. In the Notion once is always, and the subject must turn exclusively to ,,ne subjectivity. In the eternal Idea there is .»nly *)ne Son, and thus there V onlv One in whom the absolute I.ha appears, ami this ( )ne ex.-ludes the others. U .^ this p.-rfeet d.Velop.nent of realitv thus eud.odied in immediate individuality or separate- ness which is the tinest h-ature of tlu- Christian religion, and the alHolute transtiguration of the tinite gets m it a torm ill which it can be outwardly perceived'." 232 We have- thus seen the reason why the universal incarnation of ( iod should be p.v.ent.-d m t^he J^'Hu tamiliai \\iui lo-^ •" h fe . u V , t trrrns of condemnation when he says tliat ii«iiiy hl^ •^(■\ »•! ("I leinis oi i^fMi'i , *• . , ,. ,■ ,i„. ,l,„.trin,- , s tn.m Ui.- necessity this piirticuhir loiiii ot th.- (Khuiii. i .1. ,,•.■'' of al,mKi..ni>,u " th- stun.l,H.i„. -f s,..culat.ve thouKhl ... favour „f ■■ th.. ton., of outwanl .x.M. , Ihe ph.loso,,h..r „.HV .'.„- .h- ■..■••...sitv that his -hK^tri... shoul.1 h- trans- r ' 1 >l.w vv,.v 1,111 h.- will .-."aKl th.. ,u"i i'*^ "'""■- ■ , .u . .1 1 ;„lw.ut Nothing .s f.uth.r fiot.i lla"l tha.. th- ul-a that tli.- Inchest form of a -Lx'tri...- is that in which it appeals t.. th.- av.ragc man If h.- a.lin.ts that s.„.i- v:li.nps.- .,f the ki..g.to.n .-f heaven ,„.,v't..- v,m.l.-af..l t.. hab-s, he balances th.- a.l.iiiss.0.1 by a m^t eu.phal.c ass-r.io.i .,f ih- distorted ami L.^ulequate character of the revelation. » op. tit. a. 284 (tmnfi. iii. 73). JIIH 222 HEOELJANISM, AND CHRISTIANITY 233 We Mf theii why a particular man is to be taken as the typr of the incaniation. But why Jesus more than any other particukir man ? To this iiuestion also Hegel supplies an answer. . I- 4 II, .#..1 ..w \r«i Kfivp M»i»n chiierent men are According to I lege I, as ue na\t «.tii, i- i* A .i;»i;.iiii(r ill tht'ir iierfection. One man ifirnrnations ot U*Mi ilineiing in iniii piii»-v.ti/ is „miv ut Hii incariiMti.»n ot (i-nl than another. Is this the explanation i Was Jimis the most iw^rfect n.an--aiid therefore th.' most prrti-ct incaination i it God-^-who hsis lived on earth. or at any rat.' who ha.s h'vu known to history t And is he the fitting ■irpresentatire of th«:' inearnati.»n, iV>r those wh«» need a repn-smtation, h.-rausr l.r is, m truth and intrinsically, the most p«:*rtt;'Ct ej'unplt ot it / _ This is not Hrgel's virw. It would he improhahle. to begin witli. thjit hv >l>ould haw iliought tliat .Jrsus was the most jMjrfect man « if whom liistm-y t.'ll> us. His conception of humari nature was not (»u»- which wnld Irad him to accrpt as his ideal man one who was m-ither a mftaiih\"'^ii-ian n«»r a citizeii.^ But wliatrvi-r may have been Hegi-I's opinion <.n this point, it is c|uin- cortain that it was n(.t in tho iierfection of tlir character of Jfsus tliat, lit- t^Hind the reason which^ made^it iipproirriati- to take Jesus as the tyi»e of the incarnati..n. For it is not the lite, but the l.ea.-liiug on which hv lays stress, ^ot in tlie portrctio.n ..f his eharact* -r, but in the importance of the ttMrliihg fxpressed in his words, or implied in his life, consists the unique iniportaiicr of Jeans to the history of religious thought. Hegrl tnats ot the Passion at some length. But he says nothing of courage, of gentl.*ii.-ss. ..f diguity^qualities which he w(»uld have been the la>t t.. ignore if they had been iflrvant. He is entirely occujued with the metaphysical signitieance of t.he "death of (.1.4*;'' 234 But it wa.s not in the truth and purity of his moral precejits that, according to Hegel, the importance of Jesus* teaching was to be found. His [jrecepts, like his lite, would havr appeared one-sided to' Hegel — and *»n(,'-sided in the direction with which Hegel had least symiJiithy. On this point » op. ciL ii. 295—307 ttmus. iii. 8ti— ' HEGELIANISM AND CHRISTIANITY 223 we are not left to conjecture. It has been explained that the unity of God and man " must appear for others in the form ot an individual man marked off from or excluding the rest of men, not all individual men, but ( )ne from whom they are shut off, though he no longer appears as rejiresenting the potentiality or true essence which is ab«)ve, but iLs individuality in the region of certainty." He then continues, " it is with this certainty and sensuous view that we are concerned, and not merely with a divine teacher, ii,>r indeed simply with morality, nor even in any way simply with a teacher of this Idea either. It is not with ordinary th.)ught or with conviction that we have got to do, but with this immediate [irtisence and certainty of the Divine; f"r t^*^* immediate certainty of what is present rei)i'esents the infinite form and nu>dc which the " Is" takes for the natural conscious- ness. This Is destroys all trace of mediation; it is the final point, th.' last touch of light which is laid on. This Is is wanting in mediation of any kind such as is given thmugh fceling, pictorial ideas, reasons; and it is (»nly in jihilosophical^ knowledge, by means of the Notion only in the element of univi-rsality, that it returns again'." 235. The special .significance of J«sns. tli«*n, is that he bear> witness to a metaphysical truth^the unity of God and But he bears witness t.. this not a.s a metaphysical truth— not as a jiropoMtion mediated and connected with otheis in a reasoned system-but as a "certainty and sensu.ms view," as th»' " immediate presence ami certainty of the Divine. Nor is he, as Hegel remarks, in the strictest sens*; a teacher of this mIh. It is rather that this immediate certainly of the unity of i\in\ and Man runs through all his teaching, than that it is often exi»licitly enunciateti. The speeches of Jesus, which are presentid by Hegel for our admiration, are those which imply this immediate certainty of unity with God. Fiir example, " Into this Kingdom " of God ** Umi lias to transjMjrt himself; and he does this by directly » Dji. eit. ii. 2H;i (trans, iii. 73). HW3ELIANISM AND CHRISTIANITY devoting hiraflrlf to the truth it embodies. This is impressed with the most iibsohite and startling franki.fss, as, for instance. at the beginning ..f thi- so-callwl Snrnon oo the Mount: * Blessed are the piir*- in heart, for they shiill M'e Clod.' Words like these are amongst ilie grandest that Iki\t f\-«-r l)ei,-n uttered. They represent a final central point in which all superstition and all want of ireidom ..n Mans prt are done away with'." Again, he says, "The fact that this possession of this life of the spirit in truth is attained without intermediate helps, is expressed in th*' |»rophetif; manner, namely that it is i\peaks. Here it is with absolute, «livine truth, truth ie-and-for-itsclf, that we are ennecrrn-d : this utterance and willing of the tnith in-and-for-itsi'lf; and thr carrying out of what is thus »'Xprr»« an art of (mmI, it is the conseiousiHss of the nal unity of thf divine will, of its harmony with thr trnth. It is as conscious «.f this oh-vation of His spirit, and in the assuranc of His idrntity witli (i<.d,tliat Christ says 'Woman, thy sins are fr>rgiven thee,' Hei-i' th«'ro speaks in Him that ovcrwh.hnit.g majesty which can undo everything, and actually declares that tlris has Imm-u don«'. *'So far as thf tortn of this utteraiirr is e* mecrned, what has mainly tsri.tial. this activity *>l». cif. ii. 2*M (trans, iii. 81). « <>!». fif. ij. at3 (tram. iii. B4|. * ©p. tit. ii. 295 (Iraiis. iii. 8 of immediacy. It was a merely immediate assertion of a merely immediate unity. That the :i--« rtion is merely immediate, is evident from what has been alreadv said. Theiv is no metaphysical system; theiv is no dialectic process heading from undeniable pninises to a eoijchisi(»n so parad<»xical to the ordinary consciousness. It is sinijily an as»ertitat.'ment is. for Hegel, altogether defective. No philosopliical error is more deadly, he teaches, than t«. trii-t t.» .>ur in-tinctive belief in any truth — except, ..f coursr, our wliosr doiiial is silf-contnidictory. On this, indeed, he lays a rathei' exaggerated emphasis, impdled by his opjM.sition to the araries in Cerman philosoj)hy. Again and again, thr«iu;.,di all his writings, recur the assertions that an instinctive conviction is just as likely to be fal>e ;is true; that between the false aud truo only reason can discriminate ; that the "humilitv" which tru-ts tho lieart instead of the head is always absurd aiul often hyi».'critical ; and that the form and content of truth ar.; so united that n<» truth can be held in a n«»n -rational f.irm without being more or less distorted into falsehood, 237. Moreover, the unity thus asserted was a purely immediate unity. " Tliere is n(» mention of any mediation in connection with tliis elevating of the spirit whereby it may become an areoniplishe.l tact in Man: but, on the contrary, the mere statement of what is re.juired implies this immediate Being, this immediate self-transt. rence into Truth, into the Kingilom of C«h1»." Now such an immediate unity is. for Hegel, only one side ' Philmophy of Httnjion, ii. 291 (irang. iii. 81). m am M'T. *» HEOELIAXiSM AND CHIUSTIANMTY of the truth. It is true that man is et.rnally "no with Oo.). or be could never become one with (ioil. But il i-* e-iually tiue that man is not one with < iml, unless he beromes s., I,y a ,,r.K^ of me.liation.anH that a man who rests in his .mnu.iiaey would. HO far i« he d. one siih- of the truth. 238. Why then— the .|uestion recurs— is .lesi.s take,, as the I - ' .' . . rt^i^l ? True he lif (I0.I an.l u.uu ;i. a n.r.^.ary autl deiiioiisiniteii certainty. "Men in gi'iieral. tli.Tet-nx', can only *« . f wifinh. fiith t>r at most as nrnioiistr.itecl aff€»pt It as a mattrr ot miuih*' t.uin, 01, ai m i, by external proofs, such as tmdition or miracle, wbieli do not .U..trov the intrinsic immediacy of th,- tesnlt. In proportion as men rise above the immedi.ate reception of the dortiine, they rise ab..ve the nee, ,sity of a typical repi. >e„tative ot a. And therefore no teacher for whom the .loclrilie is not immediate can be taken as a tilting type. 239 An.l we can s,-.; also that only a t.acher whose immdiate iissertion was an assertion of a merely i.nii.ediatc unity could be token a> a tyjM-. For. as Hegel points out. a > Cp. above, Section 230. HECJELIAXLSM AND CHRISTIANITY 227 unity which is immediately asserted can only be an immediate unity. "The fjict that this possession of the life o( the spirit in truth is attained without intermediate helps, is expressed in the prophetic manner, namely, that it is God who thussjieaks'." Form and content, in other words, are not mutually indifferent, A merely immediate assertion cannot express the true state of the case — that mans unity with (J«m1 is both mediate and immediate. If this truth is |»ut as an immediate assertion it ap[)tars a men' contradiction. It can only be grasped by sjieculative thought. And thus a tejichor spoaking to men in general cannot enilHidy in his teaching the wholr- truth as to the relation betWiM-n man ami (Jod. He must teach the one side or the ,,tljer — tho inunediato unity of Man and (ioh<>uUl bo >»l(rtrhip ha*! Ihm-u «'xpos«d. and was still expoM'd, was nion- ol)stinately ab^orbod in its obsorvaner than evt'i-, an«l was at tlu* .sanio tinir eonipelled t«» dt\spair of seeing its hojH's actually reali.sod, sinco it had come in contact with a universal humanity, the exist. m*' of which it coulil no longer dcnv, anran'd, in short, wh.n the common pcoplr wen- in pcrphxity and hcljjlcss-.' Klscwhere he tells us that th.' ivst of th.' w.»rld was also, at this time, in a stati* of alienation from self and .d' spiritual mis. rv'. It was useless to preach to such a world that it was separated from ( mmI. Ot that fact it was c<.nsci.»us, and hence came its miserv. What was want..l was t.» giv.- it h«»pe by insisting on the oth.r si.l.- ..f tlie truth— that it was just as vitally united with (lod. ' PhiloMopluj nf JlrltijioH, ii. '2'Xi (trans, iii. HI). - up. cit. il. '2'Jl (liiins. iii. S2). ' Cp. PhettomfHobuji/, iv. b. 15H. 2:28 HEGELIAXISM AND CHRISTIAXITY Then- is another reMon. which h siitfi,c:iently t,hvioiis. A ,„ii„ who tatipht the iifiiii«iiate separation, of man inmi (iod would h' t.-arhin- a dociriiie as tnif -.vi the mr-.c-diati' unity r»f man with (J-mI/IiuI he would be tearhinLT m doetiine which could nevrr sugK'^^t that he should hr taken as a tyineal iiicariiatioii of "(....UmL On the other hand, we can srr liow ,,isy it is to consider th.* teaelier of tli- unity- of man and CJ«i a.s a, tyiiieal ciamph' of that, unity, or rv.-n a< tlie ..nly « xampl*'. 240. We are now able to ree^meih; two statvm.nfs ot Hejrtd'J which might at tir>t sight appear contradiet<.ry. (hi th.- one hanil, h. ^jh aks of thr position of Ji.si.> as typifying the in«-arnation of (iod as if that i.o>ition had been det» ■rnuned by thr <-h..ice of the (Imreh. a was tornmlatr.l. whicli is still part of th«' Kingflom of the Son. Ill the Km-.loni of th.- Spirit th.- unity of ( ;od and man ^vonhl hv seen in its full truth, and no lun^r,.,. m the inail.-«{uate form of st-nsiion- criainty. > On the other hand he sjieak^^ of tlu- lypiti.ation of the inearnation in .lesus as rnrrssary. ' It was to Christ oidy that the Mea. when it was ripe and ihr tit.u- was fulfilled, (.mid attach itself, and in 11 in. only couhl it si-e itself realised'.'* There is mtthing tvally contradiet.»ry in this. It is, as wr haw s.rn, the casi • that .lrsu> is only ih.' spreial incarnatirm ,.f iUA for tho Church tor mm in ;4.-n teaching meets the special need-, which are also the ilefects, of the Church militant on earth. Tliu^ theiv i- no iva^.n for specu- lative thouirhl t.. treat the incarnation of Cod in Jesus m anything of peculiar signiti<-iui*-e, except the tact that tlie » Pliih»*i>plni of liflitjiim, ii. 320 (Iriuis. iii. 11:1). HEGELIAN ISM AND CHRI.STIAXITY 229 ( hureh regards it as of [leculiar significance. And thus it mav be .sai.l that it is nothing but the choice of the Church which has attributed a specially »livine eluu-acter to Jesus. . . I5ut we must not regard that choice as capricious or acHrhmtal. No other man would have been so appropriate to ehoose-indeed. tlie choice could scan-ely have been at al eftVctive if it had fallen on anyone else. That a man sho«ihi be accept e.l bv men in geui-ral as Cod incarnate, it was ucccssuv that/his teaching should be penetrated by the nlea of the unity of CmhI and man, and that his teaching should have beconie prominent in the world in that age when the world f^dt, more intensely than it has ever felt at any otln-r time, that it was alieiiate.l from its true reality, and when it iv.,uired. more uig. ntlv than it has ever re.,uired at any other time, the assuraiice <,f its unity witli the divmc No other man in history would answer to this description, and thus Hegel wjLs jusUti.-d in saying that in Jesus only could the Id.'a see itself realised. 241. Whether Hegel is altouether right in his analysis ... • • 1 ; In. It in the teachiiur "f Jesu.s we iietsd o\ the prilH'lples implicil in int itniinu^ not now eiupiire. Our object at present i^ n<.t to ,letermine the truth about Christianity but about Hegel's views on Christianitv. And, to sum up his views as to the relation c,f Jesus to tlie incarnatum of Cod. he holds O) that Jesus WHS not the sole n.caruation of (iod. nor an incarnation in a different sen>e to that in which everything is sudi an incarna- tion (•>) that his signiHcance is that in him the Church sym- bolises, and apia-opriately symbolises, tliat universal incarnation which the Church has not sufficient speculative insight to grasp without a svnd>ol. i'A) thai his appropriateness for this purpose does not lie in his being a more perfect incarnation !>f Cod. but in his being specially ailapted to represent the riivine incarnation to people who were unable to grasp its fiill meaning- In proi,oitH»n as tlie incarnation is ade^uatidy vuidei-stood, all except itinal character disappears from the iiicarnati.m in Jesus. Here again we must say that this di>ctrine mav be true, and it may pissibly deserve the name \ 230 MEOELIAXISM, AND CHRISTIANITY HEGELIANISM AND CHRISTIANITY 231 of Christian. But it (he» not much resemble the more ordinary forms of Chri8tian,ity. 242. The fifth jMiint which we lia«l to coiisider was Hegel's (l(M!triiie of Original Sin, and ui' ( irace. He asserts that there is a profound truth in thf Christian d( ►ctrine of ( >riginal Sin. This truth is to hv found in the following propositi* »n : "Man is by nature evil; his potential (an sich) Being, his natural ,Bi:*iiig is evil/* But how does he interpret this f "In man," he says, we ' nn'ct with characteristics which arc- mutually opiMised : Man is h>/ nature gomi, he is not divided against himself, but, on the contrary, his essencf, his Notion, consists in this, that he is by nature good, that he represents what is harmony with itself, inner peace; and— Man is 6y mature erif. ... "To Kiy that man is by nature l;«mk1 umounts substantiidly ta Buying that he is potentially Spirit, nitionality, that he has bfien created in the image nf (J(m1; ( Joel is the (JimkI, and Man IIS S|>irit is the reHe.tion of C iod, he is the (Jood potentially. It is just on this very pnipositictu and on it alone that the |M)ssil»ility of the reconciliation rests; the ditticulty, the am- biguity is, however, in the potentiality. "Man is fMitentially good— but when that is said everything is not said; it is just in. this j„M.tentijdity that the element of one-siderlness lies. Man is giMid potentially, i.e., he is good ciidy in an inward way, j:orings directly from th.- statr.nent that Mari must not remain what he is immediately; h.- must [kiss 1m vend the statr of immediacy; that is the notion or concej.ti^.ii of Spirit. It is this passing beyond his natural slate, his potmtial Being, which first of all forms the basis of the division or disuni*Mi, and in connection with which the disuni«»n directly arises. "This disunion is a passing <.ut of this natural conditi(»n or imme(lia<'v: l»ut wr must n..t take this t the Mcnnd proposition: Man is by nature evil; his i,otential Being, his ruitural Being is evil. It is just in this his condition as one of natural Being that liis defect is found; hecau.se he is Spirit lie is M.parate«l from this natural Being and is disunion. ( )ne-sidedness is directly involved in this natural co.Mition. Wlun Man is only as he is according to Nature, he is evil. "The natural Man is Man as potentially goml. goiKl according to his exception or notion ; but in tlie .•onnete s.nse that nian is natural who follows his pass.on> an.l impnlses. and remains within the circle of his desires and wh..se natural immediacy is '^'\b. is natural, but in this his natural state he is at the s^um^ time a being po.^.-ewanis which his acts of will are directed, are atiil iiattind. This is thr standpoint we are concerned with here, llii- highn- Ntandjx »iiit iiccfirdiug to whicli Man is by nature t-vil,, and is i-xil just becaust? he is noiut'thinfF natural.. "The primary crmdition of Man, which is su|KTticially n»|tivvrnti:'d as a state of innuc.-ncr, i> tln' sta.tr of nature, the animal state. Man must (soil) b«- cul|»;ibli* : in sn far as he is gfMM,l, he must nut ha goiwi a.> any natui-al thing is gfXMi, but hi» guilt, his will, must conit' into j>lay, it rnu^t be (»ossil)h' to impute moral acts to him. .sil>ility of inrpiitation "The gwwl man is go«M.l along with and by means ..f his will, and to that ext«*nt Imcuum* of his guilt. Innocniee imi»iies the absence of will, the aiisi-nrr of evil, and eons.\ the action and consent of his will'.'* 243. HegeFs do<'tnne of Original Sin, tlun, is that man in his temporal existence on eartli lias in his natiire a contingent and |»ariiciilar element, as well a.s a rational and universjil element, and that, whilr his natnr.- is g«>od in res|M*et of the .second, it is Iwid in ri •>}..»«..•€ t t..»f tlie tirst. From this follow three corollaries. The tirst is that it is nnsaftj to tru.st to the tiict that all or >onie men have an i.n.8tin.ctive conviction that a |»roj,»ositit.»n is tru».' or a maxim binding. Such a conviction shows tliat the proiMisition or the maxim is aj^reeable to s»»me part of Imman nature, but it pro\' es III »th ing as to i ts 1 1 1 1 1 h . .r < »1,.>1 iga t. ii »n. ¥*ir it n,iay b« • t. he contingent and particular siu r nat n re is, * ftp. eit. ii. 'i'lS 'i*'!** (trann. lii. I."* in). HEr.EMANISM AND CHRISTIANITY 2:i3 ' I I ll to a large extent, merely latent until developeil Ijy thought, (Mlucation, and experit-nce, it foll*iws that th«" old ami educated are more likely, caeteris parihi's, to be in the right than the young and ignorant. It is, therefore, illegitimate to ap|ieal to the unsophisticated natural instincts of the plain man. What- ever j)resents itself simjily as a natural instinct of a plain man presents itself in a form of contingen<-y and [jarticularity. It can only l)e right by chance, and it can never be quite right. From n'ason erroneous and .so|»histicated there is no appeal but to reiLson's own p«»wer of ciur.cting its own errors. And.auain. «ach generation does not .>*tarl fresh in the work of evolving its rational ami univ«'rsal nature. Tlie woild shows a steady, tli-ugh not an unbroken, advance in this respect. It is theretnrr illegitimate to appeal to the opinions t»f tlie pjist, as if it wen- a goMen age wh»'n the tnio and tin- good were more easily recognizeositi<»n a Christian one. \ luman nature often leads us astray. Many men have had instinctive convictions «)f the tiuth ol what was really false, and of the goinlness of what was really bad. In spite of the many errors of the wise and |)rudent. it is safer to ailtipt their opinirms than those of babes. The worid had not to wait tor Christianity to tliscover these truths. It would not cease to believe tlnnn it ( 'hristianity was destroyed. Ineh-ed, when they havt- been denied at all, it has gmerally been in the «uj)j>ose(r defence of Christianity. Hegel may be right when he jMiints out that such a l who held that we could i»ot know (io^ >MiiH'vvhat in.-xplieahle. 245. There is another feature of I legel's treatment of Original Sin which we nnist mention. He n 'gards conscious and deJilM-rate sin a- evil. But he ngards it a« less evil than that merr Innoeene«' ( rnschuldigkeit ) which h:is its root, nut in the choice of virtiH', but in ignoranc <.t vice. As compared with the delilM-nite flioice of the l(oo(1, the delib«*rate choice of the bad is c..nting«'tit and particular— and therefore evil. But to make a deliberate choice vwu of the l»ad implies >..rne activity <»f the rejiM.n and the will. And so it lias a universality in its f..rm, which Innocence has not. It is true that lnnoc.*nce has a universjiliiy in its content, which Sin has not. S.i far they might, seem to hr on a level. Bui Sin is so tar superior that it ha.s advam-ed «»ne step nearer to the goal of \'nlm'. The niaii who has sinned may not Inivc mounted highei- in doing so. But he has at any rate started on the only road which can eventually lead him upwards. And the advance from Innocence to Virtu.- can only be through Sin. Sin is a n.-c.ssary means to Virtu*'. " Man must (soil) be culfmltle; in «. far as he is g.n.d, he nnist not be good as any natmal thing is good, but his guilt, his will, must n.me into play, it niust 1m* p«.ssih|e to imjiuic moral acts to him'." 246. This relative superioiity of Sin is evident in the iiassaire which 1 nu'^led alH»ve-. It i< also ivident in th«' whole of I legvFs treatment •.! the story of the Kail. (K this I will quote one extract. " It is knowledge wliicli first brings out the contrast etr antitliesis in which evil is tound. The animal, the ' i>j>. fit. n. *ir.o (trun^. iii. 18); C|». nbovr Clmp. vi. « (./*. ciL ii. -i-W— «>0 (traiiH. iii. i:» 4H|. HEGELIANISM AND CHRISTIANITY XtJv storu-, the plant is not evil ; evil is first present within the sphere of knowlcMlge; it is the consciousness of independent Bering, or Being-f«)r-self relatively to an Other, but also relatively to an Object which is inherently universal in the sense that it is the Notittu or rational will. It is ordy l)y means of this separation that 1 exist independently, for myself, and it is in tliis that evil lies. To l)e evil means in an alistract sense t(» isolate myself ; the isolation which separates me from tin- rnivtrsal represents the elem.iit of rationality, the laws, the rss.iitial characteristics of Spirit. But it is along with this sepaniti«»n that Being-for- self originate s, and it is only when it ai>pejirs that wc have the Spiritual as something universal, as Law, what ought to he'." Latei- in tile hook he says. "What is devoid of Spirit a|)pears at first to havr no sin in it, but to he iimocmt, hut this is just the innocence which is l>y its very nature judged and con- demned-'. ' After all this it is «»nly to be expected that Hegel, while he considers that the story of tlie Fall cndnKlies a great truth, considers als<» that the Fall was in reality a rise. In this respect the Devil only told the truth. "The seri»ent .says that Adam will iH'Couie like ( Jod, and ( Jod c<.nfirms the truth ..f this, and adds [ lis t«'stimony that it is this knowledge which con- stitutes likeness to (Uh\. This is the jirofound idea lodg^-d in the narrative." And again, "The serpent further says that Man bv the act (►f eating would become e(pial to (lod, and by speaking thus he made an a{»peal t.» Man's pride. ( iod says to Himself, Adam is become as one of us. The serpent had thus not lied, for (Iod contirms what it said*.' H" this is to }>e c.Mintt'd as Christianity, then it must be compatible with Christianity to hold that the lowest state in which man ev«r existed was in Paradise bef..re thi* entrance of the serpent, and that Adam an. fit. ii. 2r.') (trans, iii. •'»1|- 2#a IE*JELIAN1HM AND CHHISTIANITY 247. Hegel's dm-ti-ine of Grace is tlir cerivlative o( his doctrine of Original Sin. In the latt.r w.. were reminded that man's temjMiral nature is infected with (•i)ntiiigeiicy and IMirticularity.. in the .loctrine «>f * 5nic.t the ernphasis is laid on the rati«»nalitv and univi-rsality of nian's rtmial nature. "'Th.' ver}' fact that tiie >p|Misition " iiilien'Ut. ni. the iiattire of Spirit ■' i> "implicitly doii'- a,vvay witli r.mstitutes the eondition, the |»n'sni>|)MHitiou, the possiliility of the suhject's ahility t.. (hi away with it aclually. In this ivspret it may hv >ai(l that the sub^^^^^^^^^^^^^ does not attain recoiieiliatiou dm its own aceount, tiiat i>, as a particular sulijfct, and in virtue of its own activity, and what it itsrlf d«M-s; reci>nciliati«m is not lii-ought a,hout. nor can it hr hro.ight alMiut, hy th.' suhject in its <-haractrr as subject. -Tins is ihr natjuv of thr uvnl wh.-n the .jUfStion is, By what nii'aiis can it !►.• satisti.d ' Reconciliation can be l>rought about only wlim the aniiulHng of the |iosites lay aside tlirir mutually aljstract relation. " Ht-rr again. acc(.rdingly, the ijuestion ab< »vc i-efcrred t«> once more aris«-s. Can thr suliject not bring about this re- eoiiciliati.ui by itselt In means of its .iwn action, liy bringing its inner lift* to rorn's|iond with the ilivine Idea through ita own i»i«ty and lievoutn. -. and by giving exjiression to this in actions f And, liirther, can the individual subject not do this, or, at least, may not itif men «lo it who rightly will to adopt the divine I.jiw m theirN. m, tliat liravi-n nnglit rxist on wirth. and the Sjiirit in its graciousness actually liw Iht*' and have a real eiisteiice? The question is a,s to whether th.- sulyect can or eaimot effect this in virtm* .»f its own p< iwers as sulyect. The ordinary idea is that it can do this. What wc have to notice lie«% and what must bo carefully kept in mind, in that we are dealing with the sulij.ct thought of as standing at one of the two ...-xtremrs, a^ rxisting for itself. To sulijectivity belongs, as a characteristic l^'atnre, the powrr of positing, antl tliis nu-ans that SI »me particular thing exists <»wing to nie This positing or making actual, this doing of actions, &c., takes jilacr through > he(;klianism and Christianity 237 me. it matters not what ilu- content is; the act of producing is conseqnentlv a one-sideil characteristic, and the priKiuct is meivly sonuihii.g positr.l, or dependi'ut for its existence on something else ; it remains as such merely in a c^mditiou of abstract freedom. The cpiestion retenvd to consequently comes to be a question as t.. wh«*ther it can by its act of jjositing produco this This positing must essentially V)e a pn-iM)siting, a presupposition, so that what is posited is also something imi)licit. The unity (»f subjectivity and objretivity. this olivine unity, must be a presup}K.sition so far .-.s my .act of jH.sitmg is e.mc-eni.d and it is oidy then that it has a content, a sub- stantial element in it, and the cont.nt is Spirit. ..therwise it is subjective :um\ formal: it is only th.n that it gets a true, substantial emitont. When this prvs.ipposit ion thus gots a definite ehaiaetrr it h.ses Its onr-si.ie.lne.s and when a detimte signification is given to a presui.position of this kind the oue- mdedno>s is in this way ivmoveil and lost. Kant iind b ichte toll us that man ran sow. can sitiori that th.re is a moral o.d.r in th.- world : he (Lm-s not kn.iw whi'th.r what he do.s will prosper an.l sueere.l : h.- can ,,nlv act on the piesupiM»siti<»n that the ( iood by its v,ry nature invol'v. > gn^wtli an.l success, that it is n..l m-nly snm.-thing isited. but, on th- contrary, .s in its ..wn nature ..bjective. esui>position inv..lv.s ....ntial ,h't.-rminati..n. "The harmonv ot this contradiction must acconiingly be repivs.nte.l as s.^.m.thing which is a presupp..>if ion for the subj.'ct. Th.- Noti..n, in g.'tting t.. know the .livine unity, knows thatiJof Craeo. th.-n, com.-- t.. this, that man, as consid.-n-.l in h.s sul>).-.-t .vity-that is. in his m.-re 1 -^ .... ♦ ..fV..i.» till' iiiiorovement whi.'h he neecis. particularitv— <*annot ett.-. i in. ini|.i.»>. rill ■ * ..» ....I* iiiilv bo otfirt.d tl]rou<;h the unitv ot That impr.»v.ni.*nl cm .'iiiv o« . n < ^ I ... ov .ii.il obi.-eti\itv ' this divine unitv." And as this subjectiutv .iiiu oo)».ii\n^>, » «/>. eit. ii. 277 (iii. <»7). r 2;}8 HEGELIANISM AND CHRISTIANITY imitv is itself the goal to which the iiiiprovemeiit aspires, thin iiieiins that the gosi! can ^.tily be reached, sub si^cie tem})ons, because., sub spede aetermiat.H^ the rtimiers have l>eeii always there. But this divine unity *)f the sulijfctive and .>l.ii*etiv«3 is just thr i.iai.ifVstatiou of ( J«i in man, which :s the whole 'iKiturr c.f M.u... And. tlirrvfort., thin Hernal reality, on whose existence depends oor t.n»,K>ral proirr.ss. is nothing outside us or iropartt..! to us. It is our own drrptst naiuie-^our only real natuiv. It is our drstiuy to 1h'i-.h.m- iMitrrt, suh .pene fempnru, betauM* it is our natun- to hr .t.-inally prrfrct. sub speete aet^ruifuti.i. \V«' ln-comf fHjrfcct in our own right. It is true that our iM-rtrrt.un d.'i^ "'i^ ' '" <•'">■ ^''^ *'"^* ''''"''^'^ *"^*:" ,,uatrlv, is tl.o mniinanily *.f which wr aiv parts. And tion, us I has.^ alrra.lv cxplainrd, which is not tVir our prrM-nl consideration. i5ut it .-an, at any ratr. givr us no groun.ls tor calling H.-gvl a Christian, tor it is by ih> m.-iu.s . x.lusivrly or rsprcially Christian. All mystical Idcal- iMu is i»rrinratc«i by tli.- id«'a that only th*- gcMMi is truly real, and that .vil is doomed lo hr drti-ated In't-aus.' it do,'s nr.t really exist. In Hegel's own. words— " th.' cunsummation^ of the "infmitf End... consists m.-n-ly in ivmnving the illusi.ui which makes it srmi yvi unaccomplished'.'* 249. Hfgcrs iloctiiuf of ilr.ivr, it will be noticed, is identical with the jtssertion of the immediate unity of the human and divine, which he tells us is the fundamental tht»ught in the teacliing »»f Jesu.s. But the doctrine of ( Iraet- is only the complement of the that the Christian Church rs-ne-died tli*' one-sided eharacler of its founder's teach- ing, l.v putting ( )riginal Sin liy the side of Crat.'. and thus einphjisising both the unity and the separation .>f the human and till' divine. But tlie Church would not be able to see the tru,e rec.mciliation and unity «.f these doctrines, since it ' Cp. ttlKJVf, SecliO'ii 14. « Envijclap'i'dni, S. eiiuii 212, Ifctorc note. HKCiELlANlSM AND CHRISTIANITY 239 could never rise to the full height of speculative thought It could only h«)ld them side by side, or unite them by some merely .xttrnal Ixmd. 250. We now pass to the sixth and last point on which we have to compare thi- system of Hegel with i;hristianity- his views on morality. There is ih. doulit that Kegels judgments as to what c. »nduet was virtuous, and what conduct was vicious, would on the wliol,- agree with the judgments whi«-h would be n.ade un.h-r the influence of Christianity. But this |)roves nothiuir. Fortunately n>r mankind, the moral judgments of all men, what.v.r their religious or philosophical .>,mii.ms. show great similarity, though not <,f n>urse perfect coincidenre. l)it!'erent syst.ius of nli-i.m may lead to dith-rent opinions, on ilie rxa.t limits of virtue and duty in such matters a.s vrrae'itv ..r ehastity. And they may, on the authority of revelation! mtroduee \idd.ti.mal positive duties, such as to observe the seventh day or to abstain tVom b.rt. But the irreat mass of morality nmams unaffecte.l in its content by dogmatic changes. DitVerent religions, however, may lay th.- emiihasis in moralitv ditfenntly. Th^y may .litter in the relative in.port- aiiee which they attach to various moral ipialities. An.i it is here that Hegel si«i)arates himself from Christianity. It is just that side of morality on whicli ( 'hiistianity lays the n.ost >iress wliich is least innM>rtant tor Hegel. This appears in >fVi-r:il \v;ivs. 251 (.() "Christianitv lialiiuially attaoh.-s .hormi.us im- p.,rt,«.or to tin. i.lea of sin. TIk- r >ni, n.ivt nccu diuou;, i elements in the religious conso.ioiisn.-- of lli" Christian world. This idea is entinly ali.i. L. HeK>-l. 1 d" ""' wish t<> insi.i so n.urh on his iM-li-f that all sin, lik- all other evil, ,s, from the deepe.sl ,..ini of vi.w, unreal, and that s,.h specie aeternitatix all reality is iierfect. U miKl.t be urged that this view was logically i.nplie we WW in dealing with (»ri*;inal Sin, the only juith from innocence to virtue is through sin, it foll<»ws that to commit sin, is. in some e;i,>.-> at least, a moral lulvance. I have trie.! to show m a previous eha,pter that such a belief does not o})literate the distinction hetweni vice and virtue, or destroy any in- centive t(i choo>.- virtut' nithrr than vier. But such a belief is clearly <|uite incomjiatible with ;ui assertion that the dis- tinction k'twrrn vice and virtue is primal, and of supreme iiniiortJiiici* from the st.arid point of the universe a,t larg«,'. 262. (/'» A^'ain, Christianity wa> tlir first religion to lay paniniount stres< in nn>rals on the individual conscience of th«- moral agiiit. The resiMinsibility of («iicli man's actions was no longer takiMi — it was not cvm alhtwed to he shared — by the state or thr family. Ancl thus th»* (•« ntral not whether an action tended to realise the go*»d, Imt whether it WHS inspired by a sincere desii-e t«i realise the good. An unbalanceii insistence on the duties and rights of the individual conscience may produce v.-ry calamitous results. This llegri tell< ns with extraonlinary f«»rce and vigour*. But he uoo so tar in his etlVnt to avoid this error, that his system heci.njo (lel«e direction. For, after all, it uuist l»e athiutied rli.ii, although a man may fjUl iiit«. th*; m«»st aliject dproval of his conscience, vet hv canuol lie leallv moral without tliat aitproval. Tlie subjective c<.nvictii»n is by no mean-« the whole of morality, but it is an essential jiart. Nor is morality a.lie.gether a social matt<*r. It is \-ery hiirgely social. To live in a liealthy societ.y ,uives imiRirtant ' Cp. rhthiimfni'huiij. V. It. 1j. 275 -i HEnELIANISM AND CHRISTIANITY 241 assistiince, both by guidance and by inspiration, to the in- dividual. Nor would a completebj healthy moral life be possible in a di.seased society. And \et it is possible to be better than the society yoy live in. It is even poasible to be in fundamental opposition to it — to strive with all your might Eastwards when society is pushing towards the West — and yet to be in the right. Such considenitions as these Hegel ignores in liis recoil fn»m the morality of conscience. The great ethical question for him is not How shall I he virtuous, but W^hat is a perfect society * It is an inadcijuate <|uestion. if taken by itself, but it IS inadeipiate by rease.n of a reaction from the complementary inade(piacy. And it is in the direction of this complementary inade(piacy — of excessive subjectivity — that the morality of Christianity has always diverged in so far fks it diverged at all. 253. (c) The exclusively social nature of HegeFs morality cotnes out in another way — in its limitation to the society of our present life. It may be doubted if this is to be attributed to a diskdief in individual immortality, or if— as I beli« 've to Ix' the c;i.se — he believed in our immortality but felt no great interest in it. But whatever may be the cause, the fact cannot be cloubted. It would he difficult, I believe, to find a word in Hegel which suggests that our duties, our ideals, or our motives are in the least atieeted by the probability or possibility of our surviving the death of our bodies. And this is the more striking since a life in time could, according to Hegel, ordy express reality very inadequately, and could never be fidly explained except by reference to something Wyond it. Here, again, the characteristic tendency of ( 'liristian morality is to over-emphasise the side which Hegel ignores. Whenever the Christian Church has failed to kee[) the balance true between time and eternitv it hjis alwavs been in the direction of unduly ignoring the former. N..t content with treating tem{»oral t^xistenee as imperlect. it has pronounced it intrin- sically worthless, and only important in so far as our actions here may be the occasions of divine reward and punishment M«T. 16 9A9' HECiEIJAXISM' AND CHHISTIAXITV hereafter. I am not a8«;rtiiif , of course, that the Christian Church hiis always held such a view as this, but only that, when it did defmrt from the truth, it was into this extreme thill it fell— exactly opposite t.> the extreme adopted by Hegel. 2M. (rf) Another form of the specially siKiial character of Hegelian ethics i:s the pn-terence which he gives, when he ims consider individual chanicters, to sociiU utility over purity of motive. A liianV moral worth tVir Hegel depends much more on what he docs, thiiii ..ii what he is. Or— to put it less crudely— he is to be admired if whiit he d«>es is usefid, even if he does it for motives which \ivv not admirable. For Hegel the man wh<» takes a «-ity is better than the man who governs his temper, In it t:ik«'s no citie.s. And this consideration of result rather than motive is of course ecially prominent in Chris- tiaiiity. 255. {€) Cniinected with this is the relative importance of moralitv as a whole. The ( Christian Church has always had a stron^^ tendiiicy to |ilace virtue above all other elements of human |M;rfection, not l>e found in Hegel. He does not sh(»w the slightest iiicliuatioii U » regard riglit m»iral cli*>ice as more important than right intellectual ju.lgment. And moreover he was tirmlv convinced of the unit\ nf liuman nature, and Ml •■ of the in»p*»ssibility of cutting it up into uneoiinect*'.! depart- ments. Within certain limits, no doubt, one man mii;ht be stronger lufirally, ant»ther int«llfctually. liut it is impossible 1^)1- taihue ill one direction not to injui-e dev.'lopment in another. Hegel wijuld not onl\- ha\*e admitl,.ed that every liifiv,,.. ifl, iTion? or less a im\\ — which is a fairly jiopular state- ment with the woHd in general. He Wiuild have in-isted on supplementing it by a proposition 1*\- no means so likely to win genend ta\-«»ur — that eveiy fool is more or less a kna,ve. Christianity, again, is often found to hold that, in the HEOELIANISM AXI) CHRISTIANITY 24»i most imiM)rtant depirtnient of knowledge, truth can be at- tain.d without great intellectual gifts or exertions, by the exercise «)t" a faith the possession ot which is looked on as a moral virtue. Sometimes tlie further assertion is made that the exercise of the intellect is not only unnecessary tor this purp«>se, but ust»less, and s(»metimes it is pronounced to be actuallv harmful. The more you reason about (iod, it has been said, tlie less you know. This theory, even in its mildest tVirm, is absolutely alien- indeed, abhorrent— to Higel. The Kingdom of (i.xl may be still hidden in part fnmi the wise anrl i>rudent. But of one thing Hegel is absolutely certain. It is not revealed to babes, Y«>u i-annot ieel rightly towards (iod, .'xcept in s.» far as you know him riglitly. You cannot know him rightly, except in 80 tar as vou aiv abh- au«l willing to use your reason. If you arrived at the right conclusions in any other way, they would 1m' of little value t.» you, sincr \ou would hold them blindly and mechanically. But in truth you cannot arrive at the right conclusions in their fulness in any other way. For all irrational methods have marks of their irrationality in the Conclusion. 256. (/") Thriv is no trace in Hegel of any feeling of absolute humility ami contrition of man httoiv hould he. Sin, fV>r Hegel, is so much h-> kmI tlian man, that it is impossible fV>r man ewr t«. n-gard himself as altogether sinful. Sin is a mere apj>earance. Lik«- all appearance, it is based on reality. Hut ih.' ivality it is bised on is not sin. Like all reality, it is pertectiv gootl. Thr sinfulness is part of the appearamre. Man's position is v. ly ditl'ereiit. ulH.r.linato to the vshole. The whole is in rvery I, and every part is .^-.ntial to tht* whoh*'. Kvciy man is ...IS a p.rtret maiiifestatinn of Cod. He w.»uld not be such a manifestation of CmI, indeed, if he wnv taken in isolation, but, being taken in the community, li.* embodies God perfectly. Such a being is [K-rf.M-t in his own right, anrl sin is HUi^er- * Cp. above. Section 34. 9AA HEOELIAXISM, AMI) CHRISTIANITY ficial with regawi to liim, as it is with rccfard to tho Absohite. Huh specie aeternikitw he is sielea*, iStih specie ienqMjris he is cIcfHtined to become sinless, not from any ^'xteriial gift of an i-vil bef«inj an all-gos..|f l...f.,n a (i.«l „, whon. I hold mysc-lf to he a iiecesMir}' part and jui adei|nate manifestation, and who is only free from sin in the sense in whicli 1 myself am free ironi it. "Hegel," it ha.s, not uniairly, been said, *' toltl the young jiien of (lerrnany that they were Ood. Tliis they found very |jlea«int." hbc;elia\'ism and Christianity 245 257. Let us sum up the results to which we have attained. They are as follows, (a) According to Hegels doctrine of the Trinity, the Holy Ghost is identical with the entire G(Miheai)rehinsion. {e) HegeFs datible with it. ( /*) Hegel's morality has as little resemblance to that of the Christian Church ;ls the morality of one honest man could well have t«i that of other honest men of tlie same civilization and the same e[M)ch. 258. Such a system as this may or may not properly he calkd Christianity. But it is at any rate certain that it is very ditt'erent from the uwre ordinary f<»rms of Christianity, and that a large number of Christians would rifas«> it the name. This wa- still more universjdly true in Hegel's tiine. The question remains why Hegel chose t«» call such a system Christian. 259. It is inip.»ssible to l>elieve that it was a deliberate dece|>tion, prompted l.y a desire tor his own interest. There is nothing whatever in Hegel's life whieh could give us any rea.son t<» accuse him «»f such conduct. An h* : t • t u > r ii t i I '■ • I" J 1 1 < •" » • '^^ 1 - : ■ . «" 1 1 li H *■';• ■ ■ ■ . ■ ■ ■■ r . Jll;' liii ■. ■■'■' -f" limin Itllll^fc, but IJ'•: i,.,: ' ■*• \-»f ;:v;'aiii, j> i,h''- -\ j m Ills 'ill id l*ia«:i -i]p|i''iw::- th' :,,' |, ■,.. • fimti ftfrj^ht t-*» ha'.' ■ - !-*ild him ou !• :..,_•" ..- :......"" ■- 'F I i • " ' ■ " - . '/ . * • - V. ;.,.,„;. i 1 » ' j r; i - u *h 4* w * ..fk * »f " I h •;■■ K' ' f '■ 'FT 1 1 ft T ]<*U J I 1 > „ f I * J ' i < » ( 1 1 tt „ rj < tt, 1 III I H;iH:si III t t hat H *-gt If: " ■ ' : .. itid liy th<:* th / ■ ■ • :.. n«/ii-phili»s<,.|:ihi;caiJ :..._^ ■■ \ ■ I' 1 1 1:' u Tif 1 ! 1 1 ( » ! t tjfv I if < ' h f i '^; T i a ri i t \- 1 1 r • • v i - i » ••rl t h a t 'h r i ■ „ _ . I Ij» :' ' : ;' I ■ ■• If |,( I :«,-, , 1 1 J « • < i * : • ■ a|i|ii, upj i a Ir . 1 j ti I. i I 1 :? J ii J }. ' - - . ' • Iv 81.1 1 > ■ ' * ' . a ' 1 1 <:• 11 •-''■■ ; ' • ' . ■ r fr< iin Im- i i t:- \" o| f- 1 » r -i- • ir f r< • m i ~ * - h- i,n-^.v„ la,ii,_ ., • w!i,)r}i he helrl tii b*- fiuit*;' iiiajijn ' And v.. ,,' .11 m'"ith lb. , ■ :.~whvdid he hi,4a il appr. . ../ to cal 1 h i ^ ^ \ -• ! ' ' 1 1 1 ( ,,,'h ri * I i a 1 1 f 260. il has Wf'ti - „/— N'd that vwrx niaii -^ ^^ "'"-■ ca.ll«:l a, CI.:- Ji mlnj fill, tils im'o ciiiiditit'iis. Tht* tir>' .- ' ..it II- !.■'...- the iifjJv*T-'' .- a whole t-o be scuiMnhiug rain nial a f t* I n '/ h t < •* Pi 1 H — s* II I H ■•! hi n z w h ich des» •■ r vt • s au r a ppr* »\" a ! : » i id ifci i 1 1 1 il 1 ■,;, ; ,, •■ fit. Hi ♦ ■' ^* •■<"•<. M f I 1 •« . t li ai h t • ti n d s li i i n sr 1 f i n s. • i i * i i t • h - ) 1 1 1 |:jat h J w it h t h e 1 1 f » ■ and ( • h a n le t * • r « 4" .b, -s ii s, t hat li e d *■ •> i res It :. * •* »ii'Kt-< *ra T . ' « 1-1 • 1 i^;;i* »i I ^ ter 1 ings and r« in v" ii*t i* m> l'»y ,-lss«, 'ciat iiig lh<'iij with ih*' h,;init- <4" .Jt'^.ii>., *}f all th»- aiti'inftT^ to dftiii*' iht* outer limits within which tti;e word i 'hrrsiiaii may Im* aiiplifti, tliis is jxThaps thf iiiust h -'d. Few cither inter|»ri't.ations. ct-rtaiiily. stretch th(»e Iiiijii- M,i wi«l*,„dv. And V':-i vveii this intrrpn^'tation fails t-o jucIikI*:' Hegel. For there aw» n* » tnire< in his writinir*^ *4 Jiny •ifn'-h [lersiinal sympathy with tlie histiinral .b,'sus. Wt- tuid no praiN*- «,if his life and chanMMer — which indeed did not present. HEGELIANISM AND CHRISTIANITY 247 tbe civic virtues by which Hegers admiration was most easily excited. And of his moral teaching we tind at least as much criticism as praise*. It is |K'rhaps seaivfly going tCM> far to say that it is difficult to conceive h«)w any reiisonable and candid man could write about the €/hristian religion with less pc^rsonal sj-mpathy tor its founder than is shown by Hegel. 261. * We luusr retnrji to the first of the two (piestions stated in Section 207. For tli.' explanation of Hegel's use of the word Christianity lies. I belirvr. in this— that, aceonling to liim, not ev«?n the highest religion was eajjable of adequately exjiressing the truth. It cnild only symboli.se it in a way which Wits m«)re or less inadequate. Tliis is partly concealed bv the fact that in the hist diviNion of his Philos..phy of Rcdigi<»n he treats .»f Absolute truth in its fulness, no longer concealed bv svmbols. But the suboniinate position of religion is b«*yond ail doubt. In the Fhihisophy of Spirit, thr bist triad is Art, Roligion, and Philosophy. Fliilosophy, thm. i«. the synthesis of an opi)Osition of which Religion is .»no of the terma There must, therefore, be s(.m.' inade.piacy in Religion which is removwi by Philosopliy. Philosophy, says Hegel, ** is the unity of Art jukI Religi.ai. * WlhTi-as thr vision-nu-thod of Art, external in \Hnnt of fi»rm, is but subjictivr production, and shivt-rs thr sub- stantial content into many soparatr shap.s. and wheretw Religion, with its separation int.. parts, opens it out m mental pictufv, and niodiatt-s what i*^ thus ..|H'n«'>ary as fn-r^" ^ And, in the Philosoiihy of Religion, " Religion itself is this » For example, of th.' moral eommaiick of Jesus lie nays, ** for tho« stagei in which we are occupit-a witli absolute truth th. n contain nothing striking, or else they are already contained in other religions, anf this adetpiacy varies. It increases, Hi 'gel tells iis, as wa pass along the chain of religions given in the Philosophy of Religion, from the lowest Magic up to the religion of Aneient Rome. One religion only (according to Hegel's exiMisitiiMi, which prat:;tieally ignores the inconvenient fart of Islam) succeeds to tlie li4»man. This is the ('hrisiian. Of all the religions of th»- world, then-f.nv, this is to be held the least inadftjimte to express the truth. When Hegel calls Christianity tlif alisolute religion, there- fore, til is cannot mean that it i-x|iresses the absolute truth. For, being a religir^n, it cannot d.» this. I fi> nutans that it is ;is absolute as religion eau l>.% that it expre.sses the truth with only that inaceui-aey which i^ the inevitalil.- consequence of the symbolic anertion to the jwist, and only to say that no religion li^i.s eomi- so near to absolute truth iLs Christianity do..>.' Or would lie go furthei-, and say that it would be im|Missil»lf tliat any religion, while it remained religion, should eVii- ,•x|>re^s the trulli more adequately than Christianity t I am inclined to think that ho woidd have been prepared to niake the widn- assertion. Nothing less would » rfi,lim>phfi uf lirHfjiuH, i. ISS (tmiiH. i. 194). f? H£GELIANISM AXD CHRISTIANITY 249 justify the strength of his langiiage in calling Christianity the absolute religion. Moreover in all the applications of his philosophy to empirical facts, he shows a strong tendency to sui>pose that the highest manifestation of Spirit already known to us is also the highest which it is jKissible should hap[x;n — although the degree in which he yields to this tendency has been exaggerated'. This more sweej)ing assertion we must pn^jounce to be unjustified. We cannot be certain of the future except by an argument a priori, and arguments a priori can only deal with the a priori elrrneiit in knowledge. No crmclusion alxjut the nature of the enq)irical element in knowledge can be reached a prmri. Now the degree of adecpiacy witli which a religion can express absolute truth depends on the [irecise character of its symlxtlism. And the precise character of the symbolism of any religion is an empirical tiict, which <'annot be deduced d pri'iri. It is therefV»re impossible to be certain that no religion will ari.se in the future which will express the truth more adequately than Christianity. It may Ije miid, ind«*ed, throbal)le. It might be maintained that Christianity gets NO near to al)solut«' truth, that if jieople got jiny nearer they would have reached the truth its. If, and re(|uire no .symbols at all. Hut of this it is inijiossible to be certain. New religions cainnit be [>redicted, but it Christianity. The two great quesri<»iis for religion — if indeed they can be called tw«> — are the nature of tlie Al)>ohitf and its relation to the finite. The orthiKlox Christian doctrines of the Trinity and th«» Incarnation are not, as w.* havo s.-m. compatible with Hegel's teaching. But they are far closer to that teaching than the d»)etrine> of any other religion known to hist«»ry. In this way, and this way, I believe, alone, the difficult ' Cp. Studies in the Hetjdian Diakctic, Chap. vt. 250 HECSEIJAXISM AND CHRISTIANITY question of Hegel's relation to Christianity admits of a solution. The difficulty is increased by a change in Hegel's method of (•xjMisitioii when he reaches the Absolute Religion. In dealing with the Ic.wtr religions, he had described those religions in the forni in which thiy were actually held by those wh(» believed them— or, at any rate, in what he l>eiieved to be that form — and had then pointed out in what not the end. The jdly who has been called in proves to be an enemv in disguis* — the least evident but the most dangerous. The diM'trines which have been protected from external refutation are fmnd to be transtorming themselves till they are on the jMiint of melting away, and orthoj»ii-it. The rrsidt of the sce.iiid stage, though comprehensivi', is still abstract, and is theivtWre defective even from a theoretical pint of view. It does not enable us ti» 5ee thr* ultimate nature of the universe, and to [MTcrive that it is rational and rigliternis. We only know in an abstract way that it mn.st be rational and righte.iiis, li.M-aiisr It fulfils the formal condition of rationality and righteousness— harmony between the nature of the uni- versiil and the natiire of the individual. Sueii a skeleton is clearly not complet.- knowh-dge. And it is therefV»re. to some extent, ineorreet and inadequate knowledge; tor it is knowledge of an abstnictiou only, while the truth, a^ always, is concrete. The content of tin* universe km not been produced hv, or in accordancv with, a self-sulwistent law. It is the iruiividual content of the nniverse which in concrete and self-subsistent, and the law is an abstraction ot one side ot it, with which we cannot be contented. From a the«>retical point of view then, the assertion of the sujjremacy of s|»irit is comparatively empty, nnless we can determine the fundamental nature of THE FURTHER DETERMINATION OF THE ABSOLUTE 25,3 266. The practical importance of this determination is not less. As a guide to life, the knowledge of the absolutely desinable end is, no doubt, not without drawbacks. A certain degree of knowledge, of virtue, and of happiness, is appropriate and |)ossible for every stage of the process of spirit. By the aid of reflection we may perceive the e-xistenc ot a stage much higher than that in which we are. But the knowledge that we shall reach it some day is not e<(uivalent to the jK»wer of reaching it at once. Wr are entitled to as much perfection as we are fit for, and it is useless to demand more. An attempt to live up to the Supreme (lood, without regard to present circumstances, will be not only useless, b»it. in all probability, actually injurious. The true cciursr of our de- velopment at present is mostly by thesis and antithesis, and efTorts to become perfect as the crow flies will only leail us into .some blind alley from which we shall hav.- to retrace our steps. Nevertheless, the knowledge (.f the goal to which we are going may occasionally, if used with discretion, be a hel[) in directing our course. It will be something if we can find out which parts of our experience are of value /wfr se, and can be pursued for their own Siike, and which parts are merely subsidiary. For however long it may take us to reach the Absolute, it is sometimes curiously near us in isolated epistxies of life, and our attitude towards certain |)hases of consciousness, if not our positive iictions, may be materially affected by the consideration «)f the greater or less adequacy with which those phases embs r.f exiierienees that they are, in fact, mere passing phases, with meaning only in so far Jts they lead up to and are absorbed in something higher. And we might even be Me to show of tli<- second that they are actually fundamental. lacking si> tiir in breadth and «le|»th, but in their eipUcit nature already revealing the ini|)licit reality. If we can do this, and can justify the vague l»ingings for change on the one hand, and IVir permanence on the other, which have mi nuich effect on «»ur lives, the gain to happiness which will result will not lie ineonsitlerable. 2i7. VVr have ;ilreatlv foun be the pr-actically interesting aspect of knowledge and volition in their highest i)erfeetion as such. This state will thus have been shown to be, not oidy the supremely valuable element .>f reaUity, but als.» the only true reality, of which all other spiritual activities are but distortions and abstractions, and in which they are all tr-anscended. It will not .^nly be the highest truth but the solo truth. We shall have tV)un.i the complete determination of sj.irit, and theietoi-e of reality. 268. Let us turn to the fii-st of these questions and coiisuler what would be our attitude towards the universe, when btith kn^iwledge and volition had reached perf^^ction. To answer this we must first determine in rather moi'e detail what would be the nature ..f perfect knowledge and volition. In the first place we must eliminate knowledge as the occupation of the student. The activity and the pleasure which lie in the search alter knowledge can, as such, form 256 THE FURTHER DETEilMlXATIOX OF THE A'BSOLl'TE 110 jmri of the Alisolutc. For all such activity implies that some knowlrdg'e has iiijt yet been ,gai:o,ed, and that the ideal, therefore, hiw not }vt In-en readied. The ideal must be one, not of learning, but of knsut t'T thr obj. -cts thcnisclvrs, which we at presen t c« >nce i \- - • as 1 1 1 a, t f «• i- , t « » de ve lop ex pi i < • i 1 1 y < j ua 1 i t ies ■now merely implicit, is another question, but it is clear that it would have to k* done, one way t>r another, before knowledge C<"»u]d be said to Im |M„*i'tei-t. Nor is iliis idl. N"»t only all matter, but all contingency, miist 1m? eliminated. At present. \v«- c«iiiceive of va,rioU8 spirits— and even <»f sjiirit in gencml— as having cpuilities for which we can n<» more find a rati«nial explanation tban we can for the primary ipialities of n»atter, or for its original (listributi(Hi in spa,ce. But this must (lisii|ipejir in jMirfected knowledLjr. For kntiwUMlge demands an explanation of everything, and if, at the last, we have to ba,>f our explanation <>n something left unexplained, we Irave our system inet>m|>lete and defective. Explanjitioii .'^^entially consists of arginumts tn.iu |»reiiiises; and it wou!int wliere it liecomes unmeaning, and at this point knowledge • reaeln-s thi- highest |M:irfeet,itin of which, as knowledge, it is susrrptible. The ideal which we -hoy Id then have reiiched w^juld be one in which we realised tl»e entire universe as an asseiidily of spirits, and recognized that the (pialities and chanicteristics, which gave to each of these spirits its individuidity, ditl n»it THE FURTHER DETERMINATION OF THE ARSOUITE 257 lie in any contingent or non-rational peculiarity in the in- dividual himself, but were simply deterniin€*d by his relations to all other individuals. The.se relations between individuals, again, we should not conceive as contingent or accidental, so that the persons connected formtjd a mere miscellaneous crowd. We shouM rathir conceive them as united by a pattern or design, resembling that of a picture or organism, so that every part «»f it was determined by every »ither part, in such a manner that from ariv one all the others could, with sutticient insight, br dee determined by i/ach part, it follows that any fact in the universe eouM be deduced from any i»ther fiict, or from the nature of the universe as a whole. 269. If knowledge reached this point, the only ({uestion which couM n'Uiain unanswere a wholf^ Of any jjart we are entitled and bound to a*^k " whv," for. bv the verv fact that it is a part, it cannot b** self-subsistent, and must depend on other things. But when wt* come to an all-end)nMMng totality, then, with the possibility <»f ti riding a cau.se, there disappears also the necessity tif finding one. Self-subsistence is not in itself a con t rail ictory or ifnjxissible idea. It is c<.ntradictory if applied to anvthinq: in the universe, for whatever is in the univeree must be in connection with other things. But this can of course be no reascm for suspecting a falhicy when we Hnd M*T. 17 THE PUMTHER I»ETERMi:XAT10X OF THE ABSOLITTE rMns.'lvvs obligefl tn iipply tlie idea to something which has iii.thing ..iitsicie it with whii-li it omhl ataiiil in connection. 'n/'piit the niatt'-i" in another light, we must considi-r that the ii»'c«-s,sity »»f tiridintr causes and reasons ior jihenoiBena clepcMd> on the ne€e»ity of showing why they have assumed the iwiticniar ftirni which actualh" exists. The en(iiiir\- is thus due to the ijossibility of tilings happening .itherwise than as thi'}- did, which pmsibility,, to gain c-rrtain knowh,Mige, must be exchided by assigning definite eaii^r-s fur .mr cvnit rather than tho others. Now cvny iiossibililv must list on s..mf actuality. And the possibility that tlie wlioh' univt-rsi* could Im» diH»'r«*iit would have no su,ch actuality to rest on, since Itie possibility rxti-rifls to all reality. There w«»uld Ih- nothing ill eonniinii bftwmi th«- two assritrd altmiaf ivrs, and thus the |>ossil>iiity t.f variation woidii br n unit a mug. And thi'iv- Ibn- thi-rr <'an hv no ira^ou to assign a determining cansi'. The necessity which exists fi>r all knowledge to i-cst on the immfdiatr dors not, thm. indicate any imp*'Hi'ction which might jir.»v*- a bar U* tht- devflopmrnt of spirit. F<.r we have seen that th«' im pulse wliieli eaiises us rvi-n here to denuind fresh mediation is unjust itie- 1, and, indeed, meaningless. But we shiill have t«» eonsi«ler, in the srcmd part of tins chapter, whether lh»' possilulity of making even the unjust itiod demand does not indicate lliat for eomi)leie harmony we must go on to something whicli einbraces and tra,nsernds knowledge. 270. Let us miw |iass on to tlie ideal of volition. We must ill the first [ilace exclude, a.s incomijatible with such an ideal. :dl volition which leads to acti«»n. For action implies that you have n,ot s..metliing wliich vou want, or that you will be deprivci'i of it if you do n,«*t tight fV»r it, and both these ideas are fatal to tlie fundamental and conii)lete harmony 'between desire and environment whicii is necessary to the |>erf(*ct di*ve!o}»meiit of spirit. Nor can virtue have a [)laF THE ARSOLUTE 259 desire our trm'st and deepest well-being with abs< >}nte neces- sity, since there wouhl be n(»thing to deceive and tempt us* away And we shrndd find tlie whole universe conspiring with us to reidise our desire. The gwKl would be ipso facto the real, and virtue would have be»n t ranscemicMl. The ideal of voliti..n is rather the .xperieiMv of perfect hannonv between ourselves and our envinaunent which «*x- cludes "jilike action and choice. Tliis inv.»lves, in the first pla<-e. that we should have come to a clear idoa as to what the tuinlamrntal «lemands and aspirati«.ns of < .ur nature are. Till we have done thi> we cannot expect harmony. All oth.-r iidiarmonious, for, driven on by the in.'Mtal)le dialectic, they will show themselves imiK-rfVct, tian>it<»rv, or def.'ctivr, when experienced for a sutliciently long time, .ir in a suthcieutly int.-nsr degree. And, besides this, the vory fact that the universr is fundamentally of the natmv of s[»irit. and thiaefore mn.st be in harm..ny with us when we have tidly realisiVl our own natures, proves that it caimut 1m- jMrmaiMiitly in harmony with us as long as <.ur natures nmain imperfect. For sucli a harmony with the in.i.erfect wouhl be an impertection, out of which it would be f^irced W its own diale»'tic. And this harmony must i-xt. nd throuj^h tlu- entire uuivrrse. II iu.ylhing (or rather ev.iybo.ly) in the universe is not in harmony with us our ond> rann«»t 1m- c.impl.-tely realisrd. For the whr»lf univ.rsr i> connected togethei', and ever\ part of it nnist have an effect, however intinitesimal, ui)on every other part. Our «lemands must be rec<.ncilrd with, and n-alisod by, ev.ry «»ther individual. And, again, we cannot complrt.-Iy attain our own emfa unh'-s r\rivon.- .-l>r has attained hi> own also. Ft»r, as wtw mentioned in the last [Miragraph. we cannot attain iiur own end- oxcept by l)ecoming in |ierf(?et harmony with the entire uni\. i-r. Ami this we can only do in .so far as both wr and it have become com[)lrtrly rational. It follows tliat tor the attainment of our ends it would be necessiiry tor the entire universe to have exjilicitly developed the nitionality which is its fundamental nature. And by this self-development every 17-2 fi§ THE FURTHER DETEEM. I NATION OF THE ARHOLUTE Other iiiclividual, m well as ourselves, would have attained to the |M?rfectioii of volition. ^loreover, looking at the matter more empirically, we may observe that Home degree of sym- mthj seems inherent to our nature, so that our pleasure in someone else's imin, though otteii intense, is never quite unmixed. And on this ground also our comiilete stitisfaction iimst involve tliftt of idl other jieople. 271. We liJive now determined the nature of perfected knowledge and volition, as fiir as the forma! conditions of prf<'(ti.»n will allow us tii go. What is th.- Ci.nrrete and material CMiiteut of such a lif«* as this? I believe it means one thing, and one thing (»nly— love. I do not mean be- nevolence, even in it.s mo>t emimssioned form. I do nr anythin;^ else wll.»^e name can be found in a dictionary. I do not mean sexual desire. And I do mean i»assionate, all-absorbing, all-consuming love. For let us consider. We should finanie, I think, if we only looked at the mattrr from the p4iint of view of satisfied knowledge, leaving volition out of a.ccount. If all reality is such iis would ap|X'ar erjtirely reas(»nable to us if we knew it completely, if it is all of tlu' nature «»f sjiirit, so that we, who are also of that nature, should always find harmony in it., liien U) completely know a person, and to be completely known by him, mu>t surely end in tliis way. \o doubt knowledge does not always have that result in every-daiy life. But that is incomplete knowlwlge, under lower categ<»ries and sulyect to unreraovertance wiiuld consist exclusively in their producing this result. For it is oidy in respect of the element of feeling in it that any state e;in l)c deemed to have intrinsic value. This is of course not the same thing as saying that we only act for our .)wn great. -t happiness, or even that our own gnat. St ha|.pin.->- h our only rational end. I do not .lenv th.- p..ssil>ility .^f disinter.st.-d care for the welfiire of ..thers. I oidy :.^-^.rt* that the weltan- of any pers.ui .irp.-ntls niKin the tV-eling which is an element of his (•.•nsciousn.-ss. Nor do T assert that a .piantitative maximum of pleasure is th.- Sii|>r.'m.- (Joofl. It is p.>ssil)le that th.-n- may be iiualita- tive ditierences of pl.-asuiv which might mak.- a c. .mpanitively unpleasant state m<»re truly desirable than on.- ui which the pleasure was f^ir greater. But this dots not interfere with the tad that it is only with regaitl to its element of feeling that iiiiy slat.- can be h.ld to o.' intrinsically desirable. " 272. Pert.-.-t.-d kiDwlfdge and voliti.>n, taken in c.,nr>ection with the e.aisecpient feeling, not only priniuce p.-rsonal l..ve. but, m it seems to me, pro.i.-niiti.- truth ; th.-n- are th.- pl.-asures of acti*in, of virtue, and .^f 'gratified desire, lint these all depend on the imfwrteet stages «»f develo|)ment in which kii, iwk'dge atid v..liti..n aiv oi-cupied with com |>aratively ab- stract generaliti.«s. N..w all general laws are abstracti.)ns from, and therefore distortiims *if, the concrete nality, which is the abstract realised in the particular. When w.' fail to detect tlie abstract in th.- jiarticular, then, no draibt, the jstract has a vilue of its own— is as high or higher than 52 THE FURTHEE DETERMIXATION OF THE ABSOLUTE tlie mere particular. But when we see the real individual,, IE whom the abstract and the particular are joined, we lose all interest in the abstract as such. Why should we put up with an iEar itself, often in direct oppositi<»n to what would srcni the most natural course^ I should explain the contradiction as follows. \«)tlnng but p«'rf^.*ction could really deserve love. Hence, wlu-n it comes in this imperfect world, it only comes in cjises in which one is :il»lf to disreganl the other as he is now — that is, as he really is not — and to care for him as he reallv is — that is, as he will be. Of co»ii>(' this is < >nly the philosopher's explanation i }f the matter. To the unphilosophic object to be explained it siniply takes the foiiii of a conviction that the other pei-son, with all his faults, is somehow iit hlinself inHiiitely good — at anv rate, intinitelv good for his friend. The circumstances which determine in what cases this strange on is jierfected, love will consent t«,) be resisonable. 274 Fantastic as all this may s.M-m, the second part of my siiitject, on which I must n«.v\ .uter, will, I fear, seem nmeh wtirse. I ha.ve end<'av..urrd to prove that all [lertect life would lead up to and culminate in love I want n«»w to go further, and to assrrt that, as lifr becann- p«'rtect. all «,>ther elements would actiifdiy di.* awny — that knowledgv and V(.lition would disjtpjtear. swallow .•»! ii{i m a higher reality, and that love wculd reveal itself, not only as th<> highest thing, Imt as the only thing, in thf uni\e enough we shall find, I think, that both know led ir,. and volitiiHi |M>stulate a perfection to which they can never attain; that i;onse«jUently if Wi* take th«-m as ultimate THE FURTHER DETERMINATION OF THE ABSOLUTE 263 realities we shall be plunged into contrmlictions, and that the only way to liccoimt ftir them at all is to view them as momeiits or asiieets of a higher reality which realises the iM^fcctions they postulate. This perfection lies in the ,»roduction of a complete Lrmonv between the subject and the object, by the coinbina- tion nf ,M.rfect unitv between them with r>erfect discrimmatnHi of th.. on. from the oth.r. And this as I shall ..ideavoiir to prove, is impossible withrM.t transc.nding the limits ot these two correlative aetivitirs. 275 In the rtrst place, is it possible that the duality which makes them two activities, rather than one, can be maintained m the Absolute f For, if it ca..n<.t be maintained, then knowl.-dge and volition would both l>e merged in a single form of spirit. The ,>biect of both is the same-to ,,nHluce the harmonv describe.! in Hegel's definition of the Absolute Idea. What is it that stparatrs them from one anoth.'r, an|M r. Some degree of harmony between desiivs and facts may l»e obtained in this case by means of action m affi'ctiiig the politieal and s.m ial environment. But this alone coidd never realise tlie demand. We hav<'. liowever, two other jn»ss!ble niethixls of r« conciliation. Philosophy or th**oIi >gy may assure us that tlnre is a tutiir< ' lifr, and that in it our desires will lie fidfiUed. Or our iHitions of thi- desirabh* may develop in such a way as no hniger to require that the universe should exhil)it vindictive justice. In either case we should have attained to haruionv with«.ut action following as a consequence of our \-olition. 277. < *r, si»coiidIy, it may h: sugg. ^t. d that the distinction 1 i r s in 1 1 H • ac t i v i t y i ir pa-swi v i ty 1 1 f t h e mi nd . I n k no wlee said, our olijiM-t is to cwwtt* a picture in our minds, answering to the reality which exists oiitsiilc them, and based on data receiv«*d from external S4,>iirces. Since the test of the mt'iital picture is its cimformity to tin- t'xt.erujil reality, the mind must be passive. On the other hand, in volition the mind supplies an ideal by nitans of whicli we measure external reality. If tlie rwility does not correspind t<» oju- di'^ires, we condemn it as unwitisfactory. and, if th«* tiiwarteti desires belong t*» our moral nature, wt- condemn it as wrong. Here, it might he urged, the mind is in a |:>i»iti< m of activity. Thi'if is unqui'stiimalll} s.inie truth in this view. The greater weight is certainly laid, in knowletlge on the external olyect, in. volition on the coiisciousiifss of th«* agent. But we iniist .Heek a ui<»n' accjirafr rxpn-ssion of it. For thf mind is not fMissive ill knowledge, nor |iurely aetivi- in volition. In considering the last argument \\» saw that the harmony may be produced, wholly or in jjart. by the alteration t»f the desires till thev coincide with the facts. In so tai- as thi> i> the case. I I THE FURTHER DETERMIXATIOX OF THE ABHOLUTE 265 the mind is in a more or less jmssive jiosition, and is altered by external facts, whether the result comes from arguments drawn fi-oni the existence of those facts, or by reaction from the contact with them in actual life. We may go further, and say, not only that this may haipi>en in some cases, but that it must happen in all cases to some extent. For otherwi.se in the action of mind on the environment we should have left no place tiu- any reactindenin the facts if thev do not agree with our ideas. Supi»ose a case of imperfect harmony. The first thing, of course, is to rceognize that there is >oi,Mahing wrong somewhere. But, when we hav.* realised this, wliat can we do ^ Since the two sides, the facts and our ideas, are not in hariiM my. we cannot accejit iK^h as valid. To acv-pt neither as valisition. On the one hand we should hi hmml to admit that our Ionising for immortality would not be gratitied, howt\er intent, it might be. On the other hand we should be bounstrit tliat the universe was wrong in not gran t i ng ou r de s i i-< • ^ , h m w . • ver cer tai nit was t ha t t h ( y wou Id not he gninted. Of course this jissunns that i\ . i v .-tlbrt has been made to iirodiiee the harmonv. Wean- not entitle<.l to condemn the imiversii ils «;,:'vil on account of an unfViltilIrd e so midiT tlio e(.ntrol of our reason, as to enable us ti» U-el the harmony, if it liaj ij»ens t<» co?rflict with our pas-ions. In all theso casts it will 1 w mccssiry to deal with an ap|»areu,i want of hau'mony, and in all these eases w.- must give the facts the supreinaiv in the spht ro (►f kn«.wledge and the ideas the supremai-y in t]:ie sphere of volition. i hui of our mr.st imjH*riitiv»' iliiti^'s is intollectual humility— to admit the truth to be true, li.»wrver unpleiteant *»r unrighteous it may appear f.. uv Tint eorrelativo to this duty, there is another no less im|;ierativv tJiat^ of .-thical self-assertion. If no ajiioutit I »f **ouglit '■ can pr«Hluef the slightest ** is," it is no less trin.* that no^ amount of "is"' can priwiucf the slightest "ought." It is of the veiy es>rii.v .4 human will, and .>f that effort to find th.- fundamentally di-sindile which we call morality, THE FURTHER DETERMINATION OF THE ARSOLUTE 267 that it claims the right to judge the whole universe. This is the cat.'gorical imfM>rativc of Kant. We find it again in ^liU's preference of hell to worship of an uiyust d.-ity. Xt.r is it .inly in the interests of virtue as such that the will is categorical. Pleasure is no more to be treated lightly than virtue. If all the powers of the universe unitod t.. ir'wv mv one src-oud's un- eecessary t.M»thache, I should not only l>e entitled, but bound, to condJmn them. We haw n-. n.oir right to be servile than to be arrogant. And while «)ur desires must serve in the king- dom ..f the true, they rule in the kingdom ot the good. We nuist note in passing that we are rpiite entitled to argue that a thing is because it ought to b.-. or ought ti) hr because it is. if we have once .s^itistied (»urselves that the harmony does exist, and that the universe is essentially rational and righteous. To th..se who iM'lii've. f(»r example, in a benevoh nt (i«Hl, it is perfectly competent t.. argue that we must be immortal liecause theabscmce of imnmrtality would make life a gha>ily tarce, or that toothache must l)e go^nl becausr (J(h1 sends it. It is only when, or in as far as, the harmony has not yet be.n established, that such an argument gives to (;..d the things which are Caesar's, and to Caesar the things whieh are Gocfs, to the embari-JiAsment of both sides. 280. It we have n..w succeeded in tinding the distinction between knowh'dge ;ind volition, wr must .-..nelude that it is one which can have no plasili.m, and not harmony, between the «^..bjert and the ..bject. In an Absolute there ean l»e n«i o|»iM)sition. for there can b*- no want „f harm.mv. a> tlie Absolute is. by its deHnition, the harmcmy made iierfect. And not only ran there be no want of harmony, but there can be no possibility that the harmony sh.uild ever k^come wauiting. Everything must have a cause, and if it were m..sible that the harmonv wliich exists at a given time should «ub«e*iuentlv be broken, a eause must co-exist with the harmony capable of destroving it. When the harn.ony is urnversal. the cause would have to .xist within it. Now when wt: speak of things which are only harmonious with regard to certain rela- .1- i ^ -Ik.. - ■ - ^^ , jfc. a a f t -I. 268 th:i fueth:ie peterminatiO'X or the absolute tioiis, «„>r ill a certain degree, we can speak of a harmony which. caiTit^s within it the .HC^ecis of its own dissolution. Such is the life of an orwuiisni, which necessarily leads to death, or the system of a sun ;iiid planets, which collapses as it loses its energy. But when we couie to consider a harmony which pervades objects in all their relations, and which is absolutely piiri'ect, anything which could pwMluce a disturbance in it would be i t se 1 f m d ist u rbaoc* \ a n d is e x cl ti ded by t h •• hy j)ot h es is. This will Im» seen more clearly if wv renieniber that the haruiony is one of conscious spirit. Th** eonscicMisness must be all- eniliracing, and theivfiire the csiuse of thi' possible future disturlMince must be recognized for what it is. And thr piu-v some degree of doubt, fear, or a,nxi«'tv, which woulut absiilutely unmeaning. And in tliai casr tlie life ..f Sj)irit, when the Abs<»lut«* has been attained, will ctinsist in the liarmoiiy mhich Is tlii- < ssence of both knowledge asHing on ti* further arguments, we nuist ctinsider an objeelion whieh may be raised to what ii;is !)een already said. This is that n«i tracr of the asserted uni«>n of knowledge and volition i> to hv ihmni in our rxperience. We often find, in sonu* paitieular matter, a harm* »n\ wbieh is, at any rate. >o tar comi»ltt.- tliat n.* want <»f it is visible, in whieh the self and the envimnmeiit shitw no i»erceptible disconlanee. And yet knowledge, and volition. th.mgh in agreement, do not show the least sign of losing their distinet- ness. On the one hand we a.s«ert tliat agivt-n content is real, and on the other that it is di'sinible. But thr dirteienee of meaning between the predicates "■ true " and "gtMid" i> as great US' ever. But no harmony to which we am attain in the middle of ■IV THE FURTHER DETERMINATION OF THE ABSOLUTE a life Otherwise inharmonious can ever be perfect, even over a limited extent. For the universiil reciprocity which must exist between all things in the .une universe would prevent anything from I lecoming perfect, until everything had done so. And a harmony between two imjKjrfections eouhl never be complete, since the imperfect remains ^ubjeet to the dialectic, and is therefore transitory. Even supposing, however, that such a limited harnjony eonld be perfect, it could never exclude the possibility t.f disturbance. The pissibility was exelmled in the case of a universfd harm..ny, because the ground of disturbance c.hvs. Into what shall they be transformed ? The only remaimng element of consciousness is feeling, that is, {.leasure and \mn. This, however, will nnt serve our i>urp<»s»'. It has nothing to eiiig sell- subsistent, (.r filling consciousness by itself For our self- Ci,ns; that the appreciation <.t an olyect is necessary to spirit. Feeling therefore is only an element in states of consci<»usness, not a state hv itself Wv are conscious of relations t<» an object and in thi:. e.,nscionsn.'ss we nsciousness, in so Ikr as it is tinged with feeling. Here we have all three elements of consciousness. 268 THl PCBTHER DETERMINATION OF THE ABSOLUTE ti0iw,, tir ill a certain degree, we can speiik of a liarriioiiy which carries within it the seetk <»f it?* owh dissohitioii. Sucii is the life of an orpin ism, which nfctssjirilj leads to death, or the system of a sua and plain •!>, which collii'pses as. it Ii:>ses its energy. But whi'ii we come to consider a harmony which IMjrYadis iibjects in all their relations, and which is absolutely fMjrfect, anything which could prcMhice a disturbance in it would be itself a disturbance, and is excluded by the hypothesis. This will In: sfeii more clearly if wa reiiitniber that the liannony is line of conscious sjiirit. The consciousness must, hv all- em liracing, and then tore the cause of the possible future distiirliance must be lecuj^nizw! ft»r what it is. And the possi- bility of such a liislurbiiiJiT must prochicf .-it onw sties whieh ditl'erentiate tli.-m from one another, and gi\-<' them their s|,M-citic charaetn-. Sii. Before passing on to turliirr ai;t;uinents, w.' must consider an olijection which may he raised t.. what has been alwjjidy said. This is tJiat no iraer of the asserted union of kiiowleilge lUid \'olition, is to hv i\min\ iu our experience. We often tin«l. in >ome particular matt* i, a harmony which is, at any rate, so liir conijilete tliat no want of it is visible, in which tiie self and the envin .nnient show no i:»erce|>tible disconianee. And yet knowledge anil volition, though in •aifreenient, do not show the least sii^n of losing thrii- .listinct- ness. On the tine ham! w*- .■«->rrt that a given c»»ntent is real and on the other that it is desirable. But the dit!eH?nce of meaning between the predicaies " true " and "gocxi " is as great to ever. But no harnioiiy to which we can attain in the niitldle of THE FURTHER DETERMINATION OF THE ABSOLUTE 269 a life otherwise inharmonious can ever be ]M?rfect, even over a limited extent. For the universal reciprocity which nuist exist between all things in the s«'ime universe would prevent anything from l»ecoming perfect, until everything hjvl done so. And a harmony between two imi>erfections could never be complete, since the imperfect remains subject to the dialectic, and is therefore transitory. Even su|)posing. however, that such a limited harmony could be perfect, it could never exclude the possibility <»f disturbance. The jio.ssibility was excluded in the case of a universid haruiony. Ix'ciiuse the ground tif disturljance couhl not exiBt within the harmniiv. and there was nowhere else for it to exist. But here such a ground might always be found t.utside. And while then* is any meaning in even the jMissibility of a discrepancy between our ideas and the facts, there is no reason to expect the .separati*tn of knowledge and Volition to cease. 282. Knowledge and volition, then,camiot remain .separate in the Absolute, and therefore cann«»t remain themselves. Into what shall they be transformed ? The oidy remaining element of consciousness is feeling, that is, phiJisure atid [Kiin. This, however, will not serve our purp4>se. It has nothing t(» do with objects at all, but is a pure self- reference of the subject. And this, while it makes it in some ways the most intimate and personal part of our lives, jircveiits it from ever being selt- gubsistent, or filling consciousness by itself. For our stdf- conscifMisness ordy develops by bringing itself into relation with its not-self. The (letimtion of the Ab«5olute Idea shows that the af>preciation of an object is neces.sary to spirit. Feeling therefore is onlv an element in states of consciousne-ss, not a state bv itself We are conscious of relations to an object and *■ • in tins cnnsciousjiess we see an element of pleasure or pain. But pleasure or pain by thmuselves can never make the content of our mind. The one alternative left is emotion. F.r our present purfiose, we may perhaps detine euHition aa a stiite of con- 8ciouETEHM:l.\ATiON OF THE ABSOLl'TE We are awan- of the exist«-nrp of Jin object: since wf are broiiglit into relation with it, v\r n-cogiiiz.- it m harmonising more t»r Ir-s with on, r desires ; and wr ai-r oiiiscious r»f jileasiire f»r pain. ci»nseNsibly be the synthesis fur wliicli \\r ajv sea. re lung. 283. 1 1 i s c I ear t ha t no e motion can b. • the ultimate form of sjiirit, mil. -V it r«*gards all objrri> as individual spirits. For till- dialeetic sliovvs us that, till wr icgard tliem thus, w.- d<» not re;,^ard them rightly. And the (lialectic shnus us, also, tliat we do u*>i ri-ijanl tlniu rightly till we know them to be in complete harmou\ witli ourselves, and with on.' another. To regan I all that wv find roun«l us as prrsmo, tn trel that their existence is completely rational, and that throngh it tmr own nature is reali^rd. to .xptrieiiee unalloy.'d pleasure in our relations to them- this is a desrnjitiou to which only nm • emotion .uiswers. We saw in the first imrt of this Chapter that the only value and interest of kuowh*dj;e and volition, ulun pushef the relation whieh is to b- eonsideitd valiucli pre-eminence has only meaning witii i-»-gard Ut tin* possihility of im|ierfection. Ni'ither side has the pre-eminence in love. It is not essinlial to it that the subject shall be brought into harnioiiy with the object, as in knowhdge. Ui.r that the object shall be brought into harmony with the* subject, as in volition. It is sufficient that the two terms should be in harmony. THE FURTHER DETERMINATION OF THE .ABSOLUTE 271 The sul)ject refiises h^T.' to be fr)rced into the abstract jmition of either slave or* master. To conceive the relation as de- pendent on the conformity of the subject to the olijeet w«mKi ignore the fact that the subject has an ideal which possesses its rights even if nothing corresponds to it in reality. To conceive the relation, on the other hand, as dependent on the conformity of the (»bject to the subject, would be to forget that the emotion directs itsrlf towards persons and not towanls their relations with us. Wlen, as in v<*lition, the harmony results from the contormity of tiie ol)ject to th«- sulyect, any interest in the o]))(*ct as independent can oidy exist in so far as it realises th«' end of the subject, and is so subonlinate. But here our interest in the object is not depmdeiit on our interest in the subject. It is identical with it. We may as well be said to value ourselvrs because of our relation to the object. a> the object because of its relation to <.ur>elvrs. This com|»let«' e«piilibrium between suliject and object is the reasoii whv love cannot be conceived as a duty on either « side. It is n<»t our tluty to love otheis. (I am using love here in the sense in which it is u>e t(» blame for any want of harmony, there was a meaning in saving that the harmony ought to be broiiglit aliout. Hut here, where the sides have ecpial rights, where neitlier is bound to give way, uo such ju«lgment can !).• i)ass«3d. We can only say that the al)sence of the harmony [iroves the universe to be still imperfect. And, as this liarmony sulx.rdi nates neither side to the other, it is so far ipialitied to express the Absolute completely. It needs tor its definition no reference to actual • »r jiossible detects. It is self-balanced, and can Im- selt^sid)si stent 285. I now |»roceed to a second line of argutnent which Iea«ls t.) the same conclusion. Both kmnvledge and volition, I maintain, |M)stulate an ideal which they can never reach, while they remain knowledge and volition. If this am be shown, it * Cp. Sections 211>, 220. 272 THE PUBTHKR DETERMINATIOX OP THE ABSOLUTE will follow that neither kiiowled|(e nor volition, afi^ such, are conipatihle with the iKjrfection of reality, but that, in that perfection, they will he traiiscencle*! l>y wMiie other state, which will realiw! the ideal of haniiony which thev «in onlv demand, 286. It will be rriiienibered that in Chapter II. we came to the coiicliwioii that our selv.-s were fimdamental diflfer- entiatii»ii.s of the Absolute beaiuse no other theory seeine*:! comiMitilile with the fiict that a conscious self was a part which containcMl the whole of which it wuh part. In other words, the self contain.^ iiiuch that i> not-srlf. Indeed, with the exception of the abstraction of the puie I, all the content of the self is not-H4.?lf If we IcMik at knowledge and volition, we s«c clearly that the element of the not-self is essential to them. To know implies that there is someihing known, distinct from the knowledge of it. To nc(|ui€*S(e implies that there is something in which \\v Jictpiiesce, which i> distinct from our :iC(|uiescence in it. Without the not-self, knowledize anosition 'to the self. It necessarily follows that a certiiin opposition seems to exist between the knowing self on the one hand, and the whole content of knowledge on the other.- But this opposition involves knowledge in a contradiction. For it is impossible to take them as really opposed. The knowing self is a mere abstraction without the coFitent of knowledge, and the content of knowledge would not be know- ledge at all without the knowing self And yet, Jis was said above, it is irnp<»ssible to get rile, then* would still remain one fpu'stion unanswered, Why is the whole univ<*rse what it is, and not iomething else i* We saw also that this (piestion was illegiti- mate, as the possibility on which it rested was unmeaning. For a pf>ssil»ility that lh«' wliole iiniv«*rse should be different from what it is would liav*' no common gnmnd with actuality, and is n«»t a iM»ssibilitv at all. And vet this unmeanintr doubt haunts all knowkMJgc, and cannot be extirpati'd. We an* now able to see wliy this shoidd be the cast*. The existence of the element of the not-self prevents a complete harmony between the self and the content of knowledge. The knowing self appears to stand on one side and the known universe on the other. And when the knowing self thus appears to be in a position of indejMiidence, there ari.ses the » Section 2m. M^\f would be found an i"«J«P?f "' «^«f point which would be the same, even '^^J^ ^jj"^^^^^ Liverse wer.- diff-rent. And then the possibility of a diflerent universe «Lr^ ^^^^ ^^ ^^^ known universe appears to Dt, a rem . f „«..~» Vw. criven why the «iiivon*e is what it i>. there can, of course, be gmn «"J „u„„„f :„ reality appears to be a contingent and irrat.oua element in '**'^ • We have s, , n that this is not a real possibility. And now .1^ f I" w« iiiir#>ii.Utv For the delusion that It we have another proof of it» umuuii} . r ui u i« r^^ is caused by the ,.r«istence of thought in cons'denng U ^.tural condition-the existence of the 7^"^'' -^;''^;™ en.un The existence of such a miscalled possibility, tht.etort „» onainat the rationality »( the universe. tSut it in no areiiment againsi me ranuuo" .> . Lh te'against the adenuaey of koowle<%e as an expression o^ the u.nv.'. By H.Hling a Haw in perfection, where no tkw exists, knowledge pn>noi,nees its own condemnation If he possibility is nnnieaniiig. knowledge is iini>erlect in being compiled to regard it as. a possibihty. 289. It seems at first sight absunl to talk of knowledge jvs inadeiiiiate. If it were so. how could we know it to be so . What right iKive we to coiidenin it m imperfect, when no one but the culprit can be the judged This is. no d.)ubt. so far true, that if knowledge did not show us its own ideal, we could never know that it did not realise it. But there is a great ditlerence between indicating an ideal and realising it. It is possible— and I have endeavoured to show that it is the fact— that knowledge can do the one and not the other. When we Ask alMiut the abstract conditions of reality, knowledge is able to demonstrate that harniony must exist, and that the element of thf not-self is comiMitibK" with it. and esaential to it. But whrii it is asked to shr.w in detail how the harmony exists, which it hiiB shown mmt exist, it is unable to do so. There is here no contradiction in our estimate of reason, but there t, a contniiliction in reason, which prevents us from reganling it as ultimate, and which forces us to look for some higher stage, where the contradiction may disa,ppeiir. 290. An analogous defect uecius, frtun the same cause, m volition. Tlie special characteristic of volition is, as we ^ have »€sen, that it demaiids that the world shall conform to the ideals THE FURTHER DETERMINATION (IF THE ARSOLUTE 275 laid down by the individual. Volition, that is to say, demands that the content of exi)erience shall be the means to the iiidi- vidual's end. Unless this is so, volition cannot be perfect. The assertion that jMjrfect satisfaction requires us to consider everything else as a means to our own vnd may be doubted. Is there not such a thing as unselfish action ? And in that highest content of satisfaction which we call moral good, is it not laid down by high authority that the fundamental law is to treat other individuals as ends and not as means? It is nndouV)te «*nd. And this is not interfered with by the possibility and the obligation, which un«pie>ti..nal>ly exist, of nirarding other indi- viduals as ends. We may do thi.s with the most ab»jlute sincerity. But if we are asked why we do it. we do not find IS— 2 276 THE FUETHER DETEEMiNATION OF THE ABSOLUTE it an tiltiBiale necessity. We iosert another term. We may perhaps ascribe our conduct to a sense of sympathy with others. In this case the reference to self is obvious. Or, taking a more objective psition, we may say that we do it because it is right. Kow the obligation of virtue is admitted by all schools to be intenial. This is maintained alike by those who imagine it to be an empirical growth, and by those who suppose it eternal and fundamental to spirit. That virtue must be followed for its <'wii sjikc- is only iinother wjiy of saying that we conceive viituc to be our highest good. Kaiit made the treatment of individuals as cikIs the jirimary law <»f morals. But the existence of morals depended on the Categorical Imperative. And the obligati is y > reali>«' tlie selfs cud, but iM-cause its dwn end and th.- selfs are the sa,me. And this thrtiws an appearance of con- tingency Jind sutleranee over the satisfoction of the self which pK;venl> it from being fpiite fMirfeet. As with the corresponding defect in knowledge, there is only an appearance ot contingency. For the self and not-self me not isolated and independent. They are parts of the same THE FURTHER DETERMINATION OF THE ABSOLUTE 277 universe, and the nature of each of them is to embody the unity of which they are both parts. Thus the relation of each to the other is not extenial and accidental, but of the very essence of both. And thus, again, the fact that the not-self realises the ends of the self is not contingent, but necessary to the very essence of the not -self The condemnation therefore does not fall on the nature of reality, but on volition, which is unable to realise the complete harmony, because it persists in regarding as a defect what is no defect. It is unablt* to realise the complete unity of the self with the not-self, and, since the not-self is not a mere means to the self, it can never get rid of the view that it is iinly accidentally a means, and so an imperfect meana Like knowleflge, voliti(»n regaiils its essential eondition — the existence of a m »t-si'lf-— as an imperfection. And therefore it can nevi'i lealise its ideal. 293. To sum u|». If this analysis has been correct, it will prove that neither kn*)wledge nor volition can completely express the liarmony of spirit, since their existence implies that spirit is in relation with a not-self, while their perfection would imply that they were n«»t. At the same time the dialectic a.s8ures us that c..m|»lete harm«»ny must exist, since it is itnjjlied in tli«' .xist.nce of anything at all. Wr mast theret^)re look elsewh.re in find the complete expression of the harmony, which is the nltiinat** form of spirit. The trouble has arisen from tli.- fact that the self is unable, in knowledge and \olition, to regard the element of the not-self except Jis 84)mething exti^rnal and alien. I d(» not mean that everythiniT wliich is n«tt-self apiiears entirely external and alien. If that wrw the e;ise there could be no harmony at all — and conseeri«'nc«- poss.ssrs of l)eing not-scjlt^— its " not-selftiess," if the barbarism is [»i-rmissible,-"will always remain as an external and alien element. If wr ar»- to diserA.r the state of spirit in which the harmony could be i>erfect, we mu>t rtiid one in which the element of not-self does not give an aspect of externality t 278 THE TORTHER DETERMINATION OF THE ABSOLUTl «Dd alienation tn the content of experience. In other words we Rhall have to find a state in which we regait-1 the not-self in the same way as we regawl the self. 294. Although we find it convenient to detine the nut-f*elf by its negative relation to the silf, it is not entirely negative, fi)r then it wdiild not lie real It must have some positive nature. It is, of course, a difftrentiation of the Absolute. Now we saw reason, in Chapter II, to believe that the only fundamental diierentiatif the Absolute were finite selves. That, therefore, of which any self is ci»nscious as its not-self^ is, from its own point of view, another self. And that which appears to the observing .self as the element of not-seltiiess in its oly.ect, will, fi:-om the ol>^ject's own jwiint of view, be the element of sclfness. We can now reNt^iie- our problem. Can we finil any state of spirit in: which A i-ega«:is B in the same way a,s A regards him self ? 295. Now I sulimit that, when A loves /?, he is conemied with B m a fMjrwjii, and not merely with the results of B ni, A, and that therefore he tloes l.M.k on B as B w.mid look on himself Tlie iiilerest that I feel in my own litV- is not due to its having such and sueh ipialiiies. I am interested in it because it is myself, wliatever <|ualities it may liiive. 1 am not, of f'nirHe,, interested in myself a,part ihmi all qualities, which would be an iinrejd abstraetion. But it is the self which gives the interr-i t«» the ijualities, and not the reverse. With the object of kiiowle*lge or volitit.ii on the other hand our interest k in th** .pialities which it may posmjss, and we are only concenie*! in thi» tilyec-r^ exist^eiie* ' hr itself because without it the qualities eotdd not exist. But in the harmony which we are now consiilering, we do not, when it has l^een once reached, feel that the |M'I-soii is ilear to us on account of his (jualities, but rather that our attitude towards his ciualities is ve is not neeessarily proportioned to the tlignity or adequacy of the determining motive. This is otherwise in knowledge and volition. In volition, for example, the depth of our satisfaction ought to be proportioned to the completeness THE FURTHER DETERMINATION OF THE ABSOLUTE 279 with which the environment harmonizes with our ideals, and to the ade... it 18 natural that they sh<»uld bear no more necessary proiwrtion to the harmonv tlian tlie intrinsic value of the key of a safe does to the value of the gol.l inside the safe. Another characteristic of love is the manner in which reference to the object tends to be<-.,ni.' e(iuivalent to reference to self. We have seen above that all volition implies a self- reference, that, however disinteroted the motive, it can only form part of our life in s., far as the self Hnds its good in it. Now here we coin.- across a state of spirit in which the value of truth and virtue for us seem to .lepend on the existence of ;inother person, in the same way as they un- (piestionably dej>end U us on onr own existence. And this not because thi- other pi^rson is specially interested in truth and virtue, but because all our interest in the universe is conceived as deriving force from his existence. 297. And a third p>int which denotes that the interest is emphatically person.d is lound in our attitu«le when we discover that the relation hsis hem based on some special congruity which has ceased to exist, or which was wrongly believed in, awl never really existeil at all. In knowledge and volition such a discovery would put an md to the relation altogether. To go on believing that a thing was rational or Hat is£iCtorv, because it was so once, .»r because we once believed that it was so. would be immediaiely recognized as an ab- sunlitv. If the cjuise of the harmony ceases, the harmony in 1 I 2.80 THE FURTHER DETERMINATION' OF THE ABSOLUTE oeiiMjs too. B«l here' the case is different. If once the relation hiis existed, any disharmony among the qualities need not, and, we feel, oaght not, to injure the harmony 'bcjtween tlie persons. If a |ierson proves irr.it iona! or imperfect, this may make us miserable about him. It niav make ns blame him, or, more probably, make us blame (»in in our natun- nnder us less interested in our own condition, or ctnivincf us that it was un i m portan t to oii rsel v es. It «»ften liappen-s, of eourse. that such a stniio is too hard for jiffi'ctiiiii, and destroys it. But the distinction is that, while such a r* 'sult w« »uld bt* the only projier and natural one ill knowledge and voliti.jn, it is Mi here as a condemnation. Knowledge and volition ought to yield. But love, we feel, if it had been strong enough, might have resisted, and ought to hiive r«'si-t.c«l. 298. It would seem, then, that we have hen' n-ached a stundfMiint from which we are able to w»^ird the ol»ject sis it regards itself. We are able to regartl the history and conteirt of the object as a manifestation of its individuality, instead of being obliged U» regjinl the individuality as a dead resions why this was necessary vvere jihvay^ i-elativ«* to t.mr own self- realisation. Even with virtue, the ultimate ground of each man's choiee of it must always be that he prefers it to vice. V THE FURTHER DETERMINATION OF THE ABSOLUTE 281 And hence this recognition as end was itself a sulMirtiination as means, and the absolute jussertion of itself as end, which the object itself made, continued to be something alien and inharmonious. The iMisition here is different. The subject is no longer in the same position of one-sided supremae). In knowledge and volition it exists as a centre of which the world of objects is the circumference. This relation continues, Ibr without it our self-consciousness and our existence would di.sapj)ear. But conjoined with it we have now the recognition of the fact that we ourselves form jiart of the circumference of other systems of which other individuals are the centre. We know of course that this must hi* so. But it is only in love that it actually takes |)hice. We are not only part **( someone else's world in his eyes, but in our own. And we feel that this depc^ndence on anotlier is as tlirectiv and tnil\- self-reali.sation as is the dejicndence of others on us. All through life self- surrender is the condition of self-attainment. Mei-e, for th.- first time, they b<5Come identical. The result seems, no doulit, jjaradoxical. But any change which made it simpler would render it, I think, less correspondent to facts. And if, as I have en- deavoured to show, knowledge ann is left over as alien, on which .scepticism could fix as a possible centre of di.scord. 299. There is a thinl line of argument which can lead us to the same conclusion. We have .seen that th* nature of each I ^. 282 THE rU'ETHER DETERMINATION OP TH'l ABSOLUTE indi¥idiial consista in certain relations to otlier individuals. This ¥iew raust^ not W coBfoiinded with that suggested by Green, thai " for the Diilv kind of consciousness for which there is reality, the coriceivtMl conditions are the reality'.*' For there is all the di'ffi;reiiee 'possible between atterniiting to re<:iuce one side of an. opposition to the other, and ansming. as we have done/that the two sides are completely fused in a unity whicli is more than either of them. Ex'perience can be analysed into two alistract, and therefore ini|M»rlt'ct. iiioiiients— the immediate centres i»f differentiation and the relations which unite and mediate them. The extreme Jilomistic view takes tlir immediate centnjs as real, and the mediating relations as unreal. 'Iln- view c|Uote(l hy Green, as extreme on the other side, takes the relations as real and the centres as unreal. The view of the dialectic, on thr rontrary, .accepts both elements its real, but asserts that neither has any separati' reality, Ix^causc i-ach is only a moment of the true reality. Reality consists of imniediate centres which are mediated by relations. Tlie inii»rfection of language:' coinix^ls us to htate this proposition in a form whicli suggests that the immediacy and the Jiicdiation Jire different realities wliich only inffuence one another ixtfrnally. But this is not the case. They are only two sides . Btit we are none the less entitled to sav that the whol«* natun* of the relations is t** be found in the ceiitKJS. 300- Now it is clear that each individual must have a sepnite and uiiiy itself is a nuTt' abstraction. And it would be contrary to all the lessons of the dialiH-tic if we supposed that one moment of a concrete whole cnuM be rither caused or explained by the other inoineiit. It is the mncntr reality which n»ust be alike the ground and th»' explanation of its nioments. What We have to inaintain here is not that the characters of the individuals are defMjndent on their connections, luit. on the contrary, that the characters and the eonnections are eoin- pletely united. The rharacter of the individual is expre.ssed conqiletely in its conneetinns with others, arid exists nowhere else. On the other hand the connections ;ire to he found in the nature of the individuals they connect, and nowhere else, and n(»t merely in the common nature which the individmds share, hut in that special and unifpie nature which distinguishes one individual from another. This conqiletes our dertnition of the Alisolute Idea. Not only has the nature of each indivi^ 184 THE FUETHIE DETERMINATION' OF THE AWOLUTE 801. I believe, however, that we can find an example of this category in ei'perieriee. It seems to me that perfect love would give such an example, and that we should thus find ailditional support for the conclusion already reached. It m clear, in the tirst i»lace, that our example must be some fonii of consciousness. For the nature of the individual is still to have all reality for it, and of this i«lea. as we have seen, we can ihiagiiie no emlKxIinient but consciousness. Kiiowlalge, hovv.\rr, will not he what is rcNpiired. We want a state such that the inilividuals' recognition of their harnioii} with one another shall itself constitute the separate nature of each individujU. In knowledge the indiviilual recog- nizes his harmony with others, but this is not sufficient to constitute his sejiarate nature. It is true that knowledge not only jiermits, but r«|uires, the difi*rehtiatioii of the individuals. Nothing but an individual can have knowle.ly linked, they are n< »t identical. The individuality esinnot lie in the knowledge. Men may, no doubt, bi' distinguished from one another by what they know, and how they know it. But such distinction dep<3nds on the limitations and impel lections of knowledge. A knows A', and B knows v.. Or else A believes A, to be the truth, while B bt;liev«'s the same of Xj. But Ibr an example of a category of the Idea we should ha\e, a> u«' liavi* seen alwive, to take jMirfect cognition. Now if A and // both knew X as it really is, this would give no s<'»jwrate nature to A and B. And it' we tixik, as we must take A' to >tand lor all reality, and so came to the conclusion that tlie nature of A and li lay in knowing the same subject-matter, knowing it iM?rlectly, and, therefore, knowing it in exactly the same way, we .should ha\e tailed to find that 8e|uirjite nature ihr A and B wliich we have s«M'n to 'be necessary. Nor can our example lie found in volition. Perfect volition would mean fierfect ac<|uiescence in ♦■vnything. Now men can THE FURTHER DETERMINATION OF THE ARHOLUTE 285 be easily differentiated by the fact that they acquiesce in different things. So they can be differentiated by the fact that they acquiesce in different sides of the same thing — in other words, approve of the same thing for different reii^ons. Thus one man may approve of an auto da fe on the ground that it gives pain to the heretics who are burned, and another may approve of it on the ground that it gives pleasnr<" to the urtho.solute can «.!dy l)e jwrfectly manifested in a state of consciousness which complies with three conditions. It must have jui absolute balance between the individual i'ov whom all reality exists, and the reality which is f(U- it — neither lieing subordinated to the other, and the harmony being idtiniat*'. It must be able to establish such a unity between the self and the not-self; that the latter loses all api^anince of contingency and jilirnation. And, finally, in it the sepanit<' and uni(jue nature of each individual must be found in its connections with other iiniividuals. We have found that knowledge and volition conqily with none of these condition.s. There remains only one us—love. I have tried to show that in this ease all three conditi* uis are fulfilled. 304- One or two points require further explanation. It is no doubt true that love, m we now know it, never exists as the |i I THE FUKTMER liRTERMlNATIOX OF THE ARSOLUTE whole content of conscioosiiess. Its value, and indeed ite ■poMibility, depends on its springing from, being surrounded, by, and resulting in, acts of knowledge and volition which remain such, and do nut |mi88 into a higher stage. This however is only a charact^jristic of an inifM?rfect state of development. At present there is much of reality whose spiritual nature we are unablt* I* ► detect. And when w** do recognize a self-conscious individual we can only come into relation with him in so far as that other reality, f*till coi ice i veil tis matter, which we call our bodies, can be made instrumental t.» nur [Hiqwises. And finally, even when we have recognized reality as spirit, the imiK*rfection of our present knowleilge lea\e.s ii large numbcir of its qualities apparently eoiitinj^ent Jiiid irrniional. Thus every tiase in which we have established a [lersonal relation must lie surrounded by larire luunbers of others in which we have not done so. And as all wiality is inter-eonnecteti the establishment and main- tenance of this relation must Im» eoimected with, and dependent on, the inijMjrfeet relatiuiis into which we come with the inrrou riding reality. And, again, the same inter-connection brings it alxMit that the harmony with any one object can never be |x;rfect, till the harmony with all other objects is so. Thus our relations with any one object coidd never bi» eoiii- pleteiy absorbed in love — leaving no knowledge and volition untranscended— until the same result wjw universadly attained. But there is no reason why it should not be attained completely, if attained universally. It is entitled to stand by ttaeIC for it is. as we have smi, self-contained. It does not recpiire a ref<,:;renee to some correlative and opp«,ised activity to make its own nature intelligible, and it does not re«|uire any recognition of the pissibility nf di.HC!oni It is the simple and absolute exjjression of harmony, and, when once the harmony of the whole universe has bectmie explicit, it is ca|)able of eipressing the meaning of the whole univer-se. 306. B^dbre this ideal could k? attained, it is clear that sense- presentation, as a method of obtaining our kntnvlixlge of the object, would have t< * cea>* . i'oi sense -presentation can only give us consciousn^ess of reality unf tin- inmsitii »n. the manner in which it is to be eiectcxl would remain mysterious. But jill such tr;iusitions,, we may reflect, must urcr>sarily ajipear mysterious till they have taken place. The transition i,s from two relatively abstract idejw to a more comprfh.:"ri>i\-i* idea which sjrnthesises them. Till the synthesis has taken iilacf, the alistnictions have not yet lost the false appearance of substantiality and indt-peiulciier' which th»»y aeqiiired by their abstraction from tiie whole. Till thesvnthesis has taken place, thrrrfore, the process by whii-h the t.wo sides lose thi-ir iri(le|M'ndence must appear something, which, though inevitiible, is also inexplicable. It is not till the change has been niJid«' that we are able to realise Ailly that all the meaning of the lower lay in tlje higher, and that what: has been lost was nothing but dehision. So, in this ej,ise, we must remember that we are not const i-ncting love out of knowlwlge and volition, but merely clearing away the mistakes which presented lov^- to us in t he ft irm * 4' k now Km Ige and vt >l i t i< »ii. 307. It may Iw said that tin* extent and intensity in which l« >ve enters into a. mans life is not a fair tr^^t .»f his perfection. We consider some |ie(»i»le wlio liave comfMinitively little of it as far higher than otliers who have niuch. And again— and this is fM'rhap a more crucial, instan,ce:^-we find eases in which we reganl a.s ji distinct mivance a change in a man's Vifa which diminishes liis devcition t4i indivithials in compari.son with his ardour for abstract truth or abstract \iitu.'. The e.xistence of such cases cannot be denied, but need not, I think, be considered incomjMtible with \\ hat has been said. Any harmony wliich we can attain at present must be very THE FURTHER DETERMINATION OF THE ABSOLUTE 289 imperfect, and postulates its own completion, at once because of its partial success and of its partial failure. Now the principle of the dialectic is that spirit cannot advance in a straight line, but is compelled to tack from side to side, emphasising first one aspect of the truth, and then its complementary and contradictory aspect, and then finding the harmony between them. In so far. then, as the harmony is at any time imperfect, because it has not fully grasped the opposites to be reconciled, it can only advance by first grasping them, and then reconciling them. The difference must be first recognized, and then conquered, and between the first stage and the second the harmony will be impiured. The opposition may be between the abstract gene- nUity of religion and the abstract particularity of passion, it may -be between the abstract submission of the search for truth and the abstract assertion of the search for gcKxl, it may be between abstract intensity deficient in breadth and abstract extension deficient in depth. When any of these divisions happen the harmony will be broken, and yet the change will bi^ an advance, since we shall have entered on the only path by which the harmony can be perfected. In that harmony alone we live. But here, as everywhere in this imperfect world, the old jiaradox holds good. Only he who loses his life shall find it. 308. The love of which we sjieak here cannot be what is generally called love of God. For love is of persons, and Gncrete individual which alone can give us what we seek for. Again, though differentiation has no right as against the concrete whole, it is independent as against the element of unity. And, therefore, if w«» coidd come into re»lation with the element c»f unity as such, it would not connect us with the differentiated jmits of the univei-se, and could not therefore be a relation adequately expressing all reality. M«T. If I 290 THE rUlTHEE DETERMINATION OF THE ABSOLUTl We call, if we cliooBe, aaj tliat our love is in God, meaning thereby that it eannot. at ita highest, be conceived as merely subjective and capricious, but that it expresses the order of the univerae, and is conscious that it does so. It is more than religion, but it must include religion. But this is not love of Ood. The relation is between persons, and God is conceived only as the unity in which they exist am. If we cannot, properly speaking, love God, it is still more impossible to love mankind. For mankind is an abstraction too, and a far more superficial abstraction. If God was only an abBtraction of the element of unity, at least he was an abstraction of the highest and most perfect unity, able to fuse into a whole the highest and most perfect ditlerentiation. But mankind re- presents a far less vital unity. It is a common quality of individuals, but not, conceived merely as mankind, a living unity between them. The whole nature of the individual lies in his being a miinifestation of God. But the unity of mankind is not a principle of which all the ditferenoes of individual men are maniiestationa. The human race, viewed as such, is only an aggregate, not tvcii jui (irgaiiisiu. We might as well try to love an indefinitel}' extended Post Office Directory. And the same will hold true of all subordinate aggregates — nations, churches, and families. 310. I have Wen using the word love, in this chapter, in the meaning which is given to it in ordinary life— as meaning the emotion which joins two particular persons together, and which never, in our I'Xperience, unites one person with more than a few others. This, as we have seen, was also HegeFs use of the won!'. At the siuiie tiiiu' wv must guard against con- founding it with the special forms which it assumes at present. At jiresent it makes instruments of sexual desire, of the connec- tion of niarriage, or of the cuun«!tion of blcMid. But these cannot be the ultimate forms under which love is manifested, since they depend on determining causes outside love itself Love ft>r which any caus* c*ui be iissignetj earries the marks of iti own inconipieteness nimu it. For, when it is complete, all ' C|i. iMvUuUti 219, *JtM, THE FURTHER DETERMINATION OF THE ARSOLUTE 291 relations, all reality, will have been transformed into it. Thus there will be nothing left outside to determine it. Love is itself the relation which liinds individuals together. Each relation it establishes is part of the ultimate nature of the unity of the whole. It does not require or admit of justification or determination by anything else. It is itself its own justifica- tion and determination. The nearest approach to it we can know now is the love for which no cause can be given, and which is not determined by any outer relation, of which we can only say that two people belong to each other— the love of the Vita Nuova and of In Menioriam. 311. No doubt an emotion which should be sufficient, both in extent and intensity, to grasp the entire universe, nmst be different in decree from anything of which we can now have experience. Yet this need not fi»ree us to allow any essential difference between the two, if the distiiHti.m is r.i.e of degree, and not of generic change. The attempt to imagine any com- munion so far-reaching — extending, as we must hold it to do, to all reality in the univ erse— is, no doubt, depressing, alnn^st painful'. But this arises. 1 think, fr.»m the inability, under which we lie .it jireseiit, to pietiin- the ideal exc»»pt under the ilisgnise of a " talse infinite" of .iidless suecession. However much we may know that the kingdom of heaven is spiritual and timeless. \v»' eannnt help imagining it as in tinir, and can scarcely helj) imagining it as in si)ac('. In this case the magnitude of the field to be included naturally appears as something alien and inimical to our power of including it. We are forced, too, since our imagination is limited by the stage of development in which we at pn-sent are, to give undue imjKirt- ance to the ijuestion of ninnl>er, as appliinl to the individuals in the Absolut.'. If we look at it from this standi)oint the most casual contemplation is bewildering and crushing. But number is a very inadefjuate category. Even in everyday life we may see how munbir falls into the shfule as our knowledge « I iee no necessity for coiwiderinK' the nlatioiiH between each iiidividiml and all the othern to be direct. It would s«.m miitc ai iw^ible that the relation of each individual to the majority of the others should be indirect, and through Ihe mediation of «onie other individuals. I #««imiviiDP fit THE lURTHER DETERMINATION OF THE ABSOLUTE of the subject-matter increases. Of two points oo an unlimited field we can say nothing but that they are two in number. But if we were considering the relation of Hegel's philosophy to Kant's, c r of Dante to Beatrice, the advance which we should niake by counting them would be imperceptible. When every- thing is Been under the highest category, the Absolute Idea, this process would be complete. All lower categories would have been transcended, and all separate significance of number would have vanished. And with it would vanish the dead weiffht of the vastness of the universe. We must remember too, once more, that the Absolute is not an aggregate but a system. The multiplicity of the indi- viduals is not, therefi)re, a hindrance in the way of estjiblishing a harmony with any one of them, as might be the case if each was an independent rival of all tlie rest. It is rather to be considered as an assistance, sitice our relations with each will» through their mutual eonn<*cti«»ns, be stn-ngtluned by our rela- tions to all the rest. 312. The conclusions of this chapter are, no doubt, fairly to be called mystical. Anil a mysticism which ignored the claims of the undei-standing would, no doubt, hv ili.omed. None ever went about to break logic, but in the end logic broke him. But there is a mysticism wliich starts Irom the standpoint of the understanding, and only departs from it in so far as that standpoint shows itself not to be ultimate, but to postulate something beyond itself To transcend the lower is not to ignore it. And it is only in this sense that I have veiiture " n^Aff **'"' COLUIMIA umvEiismr 193H36 DUE DATE ^^"'- NOV 2 ^'0^; 1 7 ^1 BOUND JUL 9 ^957 'i^Jic- ky A-?5^ #'*^ **" '-.V 1^ >■<■ :x^-*:i -• '■'^^u:: .' w^. •,;^' :- X i'^- x/:,>^...s^' ■4b .