Philosophical Works of the Late James Frederick Ferrier/Institutes of Metaphysic (1875)/Appendix to Institutes of Metaphysic
APPENDIX
TO 'INSTITUTES OF METAPHYSIC.'
. . . . Some of my critics assert that my philosophy is nothing but an echo of Hegel's; others have doubted whether I know anything at all about that philosopher. The exact truth of the matter is this: I have read most of Hegel's works again and again, but I cannot say that I am acquainted with his philosophy. I am able to understand only a few short passages here and there in his writings; and these I greatly admire for the depth of their insight, the breadth of their wisdom, and the loftiness of their tone. More than this I cannot say. If others understand him better and to a larger extent, they have the advantage of me, and I confess that I envy them the privilege. But, for myself, I must declare that I have not found one word or one thought in Hegel which was^ available for my system, even if I had been disposed to use it. If Hegel follows (as I do) the demonstrative method, I own I cannot see it, and would feel much obliged to any one who would point this out and make it clear. In other respects, my method is diametrically opposed to his; he begins with the consideration of Being; my whole design compels me to begin with the consideration of Knowing.
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I owe no fealty to Spinoza. I preach none of his opinions. Indeed I am not charged with adopting anything of his except a method, which he has in common with all rigorous reasoners. But this I will avouch, that all the outcry which has been raised against Spinoza has its origin in nothing but ignorance, hypocrisy, and cant. If Spinoza errs, it is in attributing, not certainly too much to the great Creator, for that is impossible, but too little to the creature of His hands. He denies, as many great and pious divines have done, the free agency of man: he asserts the absolute sovereignty of God. He is the very Calvin of philosophy.
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My philosophy is Scottish to the very core; I disclaim for it the paternity of Germany or Holland: I assert that in every fibre it is of home growth and national texture. Whatever my dominion over truth may be, small or great, I have conquered every inch of it myself. I go on to speak of one to whom principally I owe the means which, next to my own efforts, have enabled me to approach, as I think, the pinnacles of truth.
Morally and intellectually, Sir William Hamilton was among the greatest of the great. A simpler and a grander nature never arose out of darkness into human life: a truer and a manlier character God never made. How plain, and yet how polished was his life, in all its ways; how refined, yet how robust and broad his intelligence, in all its workings. Without a boast, I may say that I knew him better than any other man ever did. For years together scarcely a day passed in which I was not in his company for hours, and never on this earth may I expect to live such happy hours again. To his last moment he preserved a temper indomitable under the disablement with which, for many years, he had so heroically striven; but in those days, when his body was unbroken and his mind untamed, by disease, how widely and how freely his energies expatiated over all the gardens of speculation! how he hailed with welcome every fresh suggestion, giving back ten times more than he received! These are memories I love to cherish. I have learnt more from him than from all other philosophers put together; more, both as regards what I assented to and what I dissented from. His contributions to philosophy have been great; but the man himself was greater far. I have studied both. I approve of much in the one; in the other I approve of all. He was a giant in every field of intellectual action. I trust that I have profited by whatever is valuable in the letter of his system: at any rate, I venture to hope that, from my acquaintance, both with himself and his writings, I have imbibed some small portion of his philosophic spirit; and that spirit, when left freely to itself, was as gentle as the calm, and yet also as intrepid as the storm.
I am quite aware of what Sir William Hamilton thought of my contributions to metaphysical science. To tell the truth, he thought very little of them. This was after they were thoroughly matured; he did not think so badly of them at first. But after they had been brought to all the conclusiveness of which they seemed susceptible, he pronounced them little better than failures. It is possible that he might have thought better of them if they had been more consonant with his own opinions—even although their merits in other respects might have been less: that is but human nature. As it was, however, he decided against them. But how was it possible for him to have done otherwise? Was he to recant at my bidding the labours of a lifetime? For thirty years past, I have been of opinion that the dedication of his powers to the service of Dr Reid was a perversion of his genius, that this was the one mistake in his career, and that he would have done far better if he had built entirely on his own foundation. Every one must admit that, in his elaborate discussions on Dr Reid, he has written much which, both as criticism and as history, is of the highest philosophical importance, and that the student of speculation not only may study these disquisitions with advantage, but must master them if he would be a proficient in the science. But, nevertheless, I have taken the liberty of telling him in conversation and in print, that "all his expositorial ingenuity has not succeeded in conferring on that writer even the lowest degree of scientific intelligibility," meaning by scientific, the progressive deduction of one truth from another, in an ordered sequence. I now think of these things almost with regret, though not with compunction; for I should feel far more compunction if I thought that, even to spare him, I had swerved from my allegiance to the truth, or in the smallest degree equivocated. Not for one moment, however, did these trivial differences disturb our cordiality or interrupt our friendship. And whatever effect the promulgation of his opinion as to my philosophy may have had, God knows that I love him not one whit the less. This has not raised a speck the size of a man's hand upon the clear and boundless horizon of the affection which I bear him. From first to last my whole intercourse with Sir William Hamilton has been marked with more pleasure and less pain than ever attended, perhaps, my intercourse with any other human being. And now that he is gone, I cherish his memory with the most affectionate esteem. I cannot associate with his name a single unpleasant thought, and I contemplate his powers and the evidences of their exercise with profound admiration.
" Never to mansions where the mighty rest,
Since their foundations, came a nobler guest."
******* It has been urged against my system, "that it confounds the province of logic and metaphysics, and attempts to reach real existence, not by belief, but by formal demonstration."
I shall first answer the second clause of this allegation, and then speak to the charge that I have confounded the provinces of logic and metaphysics.
It is not true that I attempt to reach real existence by demonstration. I assume real existence; I take for granted that there is something. I assume this; and I care not what the grounds of the assumption may be called. Suffice it to say, I assume that something is. This I have stated in the most explicit terms in the following passage:—" The science (metaphysics) is not called upon to prove either that absolute existence is, or that it is not, the contradictory. It takes, and must be allowed to take, this for granted" (Institutes, p. 465, 2d ed.) A demonstration is indeed supplied, proving that absolute existence is not the contradictory, although this also might have been assumed. But, that something really and absolutely exists—this is neither demonstrated in my work nor attempted to be so.
What, then, do I attempt to prove in regard to real existence? for surely I attempt to demonstrate something about it. To be sure I do; I endeavour to prove, and I do prove most cogently, what it is, not that it is. Attention to these two words, what and that, may serve to obviate confusion. Suppose that some new and very peculiar animal were discovered, an animal which lived sometimes on the land, sometimes in the sea, and sometimes in the air; and suppose that certain naturalists were employed to investigate its nature. Would they require to prove, in the first instance, that such an animal was? Certainly they would not. There it is before them, and that surely is enough. They would merely have to ascertain what it was. Is it fish, flesh, or fowl? The what here might be a nice point of inquiry, while the that would be an insane one. So in regard to real existence. No man in his senses would require a proof that it is. But a man might very naturally be curious to know what it is. Is real existence mind without matter, or is it matter without mind? Is it thought apart from an intelligent basis, or an intelligent basis apart from all thought? in other words, is real existence any of these items strictly by themselves, and, either actually or possibly, divorced from all relation to one another? Or again, is real existence, mind in union with things or thoughts? Is it matter or something else in connection with intelligence? In other words, is real existence not any of these items strictly by themselves, and out of all relation to each other, but these items combined, in some way or other, together? Or, to express this shortly, it may be asked, is real existence a simple, or is it a compound? Is it existence, or is it not rather coexistence? Now, the answer to this question would declare what, in the opinion of the respondent, real existence is. Say that it is a simple, and not a compound; that answer, right or wrong, declares what it is. Say that it is a compound, and not a simple, that answer, too, right or wrong, affirms what it is. My answer in the Institutes, after much elaborate demonstration, and in opposition to the whole teaching of psychology, is that it is a compound, and not a simple; expressed technically, real existence, according to my system, is always a synthesis of subject and object, a union of mind and something else which is not so strictly mind as mind itself is mind; and I have ventured to predicate this conclusion, even in regard to the Divine mind; for it is impossible to conceive this without certain attributes or certain works, and these, God's attributes of power, wisdom, and goodness—these, and also his works, are certainly not so strictly Himself, as He himself is Himself. So that here, too, the truth holds good that intelligence (the ego, the person) and something else, whatever it may be, is that which constitutes true, and real, and concrete existence.I now take up the statement that my system "confounds the province of logic and metaphysics."
First of all, let me state what the province of logic is, and what the province of metaphysics is. Logic sometimes signifies the theory of reasoning (as part, at least, of its province), and sometimes it signifies reasoning itself. Metaphysics is the science of real existence. The former is a science of the abstract, the latter of the concrete. But I have just made it plain that I assume real existence, and make no effort to demonstrate it. I have not confounded the provinces of logic and metaphysics, because I have not attempted to reach real existence by means of logic, whether logic be understood to signify the theory of reasoning, or reasoning itself.
It is quite true that, after real existence has been assumed by metaphysics, I employ logic (in the sense of reasoning) to determine what it is. But no man can find fault with this procedure, or can justly allege that this is a confounding of logic and metaphysics ; for, surely, if we are to think and speak of real things at all, we must do so according to the laws of thought and of speech.
I assume, on the very title-page, and in every word of my book, that both knowledge and being are. The Institutes are entitled " an inquiry into Knowing and Being." But who ever heard of an inquiry into a thing, unless the thing in question was taken for granted? The geometrician never attempts, and is not called upon, to prove that he has in his mind those conceptions which he calls lines, circles, and triangles. This is always conceded to him. He merely proves what the nature and properties and relations of these ideal figures are. So in regard to knowing and being; I hold these conceded, and merely prove what they are in their nature and relations.
Before leaving this head, I have just a remark or two to make on the law of contradiction, and the distinction of necessary and contingent truths. I never set up the law of contradiction as the test of truth; but only as the test of one class of truths, the necessary class. I shall take this opportunity of explaining the point by means of a very simple illustration. Suppose that we wish to test as necessary the truth of the proposition, "two straight lines cannot enclose a space," the way in which we set about it is this: we lay down the counter-statement, "two straight lines can enclose a space," we then perceive that this contradicts the conception which we must form of two straight lines, if we are to form any conception of them at all; in other words, we see that it is equivalent to the proposition, "two straight lines are not two straight lines;" but this again is equivalent to the assertion that "a thing is not what it is," but this contradicts the testing law, the law to which all necessary truth must conform, namely, that "a thing is what it is!" Therefore the proposition "two straight lines can enclose a space" being in this way convicted of absurdity, its opposite is established as a necessary truth. Such is an illustration of the manner in which the law of contradiction has to be applied. It has usually been regarded merely as an example of necessary truth. These remarks may serve to explain not only how it is an instance, but (what is of far more importance) how it is the criterion of necessary truth.
The law of contradiction is the immediate test of all necessary truths, even of the conclusion of the longest demonstration in Euclid: nevertheless, demonstration cannot be dispensed with; for this law is their immediate test only when every previous step in the demonstration has been immediately tested by the same criterion. Of course the first principle or starting-point (or points, if there are more than one) not only may, but must, be known without demonstration. But "a felt necessity of believing them" is not their immediate test, and therefore they do not stand out of all relation to each other, in so far, that is, as their reasoned exhibition is concerned, and, of course, it is only in this respect that they stand related. Who would maintain that there was any "felt necessity of believing" the 47th proposition of the first book of Euclid? The law of contradiction is its test, but it is not this until every antecedent step in the demonstration has been immediately tested by the same law. Then, but not till then, is there "a felt necessity of believing" it. And this holds good in regard to all other, even the very simplest, necessary truths. They must first be tested either explicitly or implicitly by the law of contradiction before there can be any "felt necessity" of believing them. It is the contradiction involved in denying that "two and two are four" which supports the "felt necessity" of believing this truth.
My argument is as follows. The only material world which truly exists, is one which either actually is, or may possibly be, known. But the only material world which either actually is, or may possibly be, known, is one, along with which intelligence is, and must be, also known. Therefore, the only material world which truly exists, is one, along with which intelligence also exists. Therefore, the mere material world has no real and absolute existence. But neither is it a nonentity (I am no idealist), for there is no nonentity, any more than there is entity out of relation to all intelligence. It is simply an expression of nonsense. That is my reasoning; and if any one can propose an amendment on the syllogism, I shall very willingly receive it. Of course it requires much explanation, which is abundantly supplied in the Institutes, to render it perfectly clear and convincing. Its conclusion is not my conclusion, more than it is any other man's conclusion. It follows just as inevitably from putting the premises together (and the premises are obtained in the same inevitable way), as a neutral salt follows when an acid and an alkali are brought into combination. The conclusions of a demonstrated philosophy are no more the peculiar opinions of an individual thinker, than the muscles of the human body are the peculiar muscles of an individual anatomist.
My philosophy denies the separate existence of mind only in this sense, that it holds the word mind to be an expression of nonsense, when this mind is represented as existing in no state at all, or with no thoughts or things of any kind present to it. It does not, however, hold the mind thus circumstanced, or rather non-circumstanced, to be a nonentity, but only a nonsensical, an absolutely inconceivable. According to my system, a truly existing mind is a mind with some environment of states, some accompaniment either of thoughts or of things. I do not subvert the substantiality of the mind. On the contrary, I confirm it, by making the substantiality of the mind to consist in its being the One great Permanent and Immutable Constituent, amid all the fluctuating states by which it may be visited, or the transitory things among which it may be placed.
My system not only does not render all consistent belief in personal identity "impossible;" it is the only system in the world of which that belief is a vital and essential part. Personal identity is accidental to all other philosophical schemes; to mine it is the very breath of life. Take from it this, and it dies. What is the assertion of personal identity, except the assertion that there can be no knowledge, no continued consciousness, without the presence, amid all the fluctuations of cognition, of that permanent and never-fluctuating constituent which we call "I"? And is not the pulsation of this latter truth felt and seen in every movement of my philosophical system?
I maintain that a contradiction is involved in our attempt to conceive the universe without any " me," or mind, in connection with it; but that no contradiction is involved in our thinking it in connection with a " me," or mind, other than our individual selves. According to my system, it is nonsense to affirm that things can exist without any mind; but it is not nonsense to affirm that they can exist in connection with some other mind than my individual self. An illustration will make this plain: Let us suppose the centre of a circle to be endowed with consciousness, and suppose we affirm that this centre can have no cognisance of the circumference, without being cognisant of itself (the centre) as well. What would follow? This would follow, that the centre could never think either of its own circumference without thinking of itself, or of any other circumference without also thinking of some other centre. The thought of a circumference without a centre would be a contradictory or nonsensical thought. But what is there to prevent this individual centre from thinking, without a contradiction, another whole circle (circumference and centre) as totally independent of itself ? Nothing in the world. Having got the type once given to it, namely, a centre and a circumference, it can suppose, without the smallest contradiction, that same type repeated ad infinitum. But, in supposing this, it must suppose the whole type repeated, otherwise, in supposing only half of the type (centre without circumference, or circumference without centre), a contradiction would inevitably emerge. So in regard to the " me " and the " not-me." Contradiction arises whenever the attempt is made to conceive either of these out of relation to the other. But no contradiction arises when one case of "me-plus-not-me," is conceived out of all relation to another case of "me-plus-not-me."
The difference between centre and circumference illustrates exactly the distinction between "me" and "not-me," between subject and object: it is a relation of opposition, but not a relation of independency. The difference between two whole circles illustrates exactly the distinction between one instance of object-plus-subject, and another instance of object-plus-subject: this is a relation of independency, and it can be conceived as such, which the other relation cannot, without a contradiction.
It is quite true that I resolve Absolute Existence into a relation, a relation of two contradictories; that is, of two constituents, neither of which is conceivable out of relation to the other. In other words, mind, together with something (whatever it may be, for this I never undertake to settle) which is not mind so strictly as mind itself is mind; this, with me, as I have already said, is alone Absolute Existence. This is what absolutely and truly exists. It is always a concrete and not an abstract. It is only of things out of relation to divine or infinite knowledge that I predicate contradiction, and these cannot properly be called things, but only surds or nonsensicals.
If it is asked, "Why, since finite intelligence begins in time to redeem the universe from contradiction, may not this be the whole rescue?" I answer, simply because we are prevented, by a necessity of thinking, from conceiving it to be the whole rescue. "We cannot suppose a time when time itself, and everything else, was in a condition of absolute nonsense, and therefore we must suppose something more than finite intelligence to rescue the universe from contradiction; and this is, and can be, nothing else than an infinite and all-ruling mind. Again, to the question," Or is it demonstrated that other finite intelligences besides the human may not exist in eternal succession, and render this higher Being superfluous?" I answer, that it is perfectly demonstrable that an eternal succession of finite intelligences cannot necessarily exist, because there can be no necessity in an eternal series when there is no necessity in any of its parts; and, from the very conception of finite intelligence, no one finite intelligence exists necessarily. Therefore, inasmuch as it is both demonstrable and demonstrated, that an eternal succession of finite intelligences cannot necessarily exist, and inasmuch as it is also demonstrated that intelligence must necessarily exist, this Higher Being, this necessary and infinite intelligence, is not " rendered superfluous."
The principle of sufficient reason is a demonstrative principle, making the opposite a contradiction. There is one necessary and infinite intelligence, because one such is a necessity of thinking; but there is not more than one, because a contradiction is involved in the supposition that there should be two or more necessary and infinite intelligences when one such is all that the necessary laws of reason constrain us to admit.
My system has been blamed, because it only reaches an "inadequate Deity,"—that is, because the conception which I have been able to form and to exhibit of Him, does not contain and reveal His glorious perfections in their whole magnitude and extent. But why should I, a metaphysician, be vilified for not doing what no minister in the pulpit, what no theologian in the world, has ever yet done?
Suppose that you were listening to a preacher discoursing on the omniscience of the Supreme Being, would you regard his arguments or assertions as tantamount to a denial of the Supreme Being's omnipotence? You certainly would not. I contend for the existence of the Deity, on the ground that an omniscient Being is a necessity of our thinking. This line of argument fell particularly within the scope of my work. How can the argument proving the Divine omniscience be held equivalent to an argument disproving the Divine omnipotence? So far from being equivalent to this, the latter conclusion follows as a necessary corollary from the former. It is impossible for a Being to be omniscient, without being also omnipotent and the first great cause. No one infinite attribute is compatible with any finite attributes. That is certain. But my system is not a treatise on natural theology—it is only an introduction to it; and hence I did not profess to discuss fully the power and attributes of God. The detailed consideration of these would, I think, be out of place in a work on metaphysics; this supplies the groundwork, the superstructure is left to theology.
Finally, it is utterly untrue that my system denies "any other process of proof or basis of belief in regard to the Divine existence." There is not one word in my work which, by any refinement of sophistry, can be twisted into even the remotest insinuation that I regard the proof of revelation or the argument from effect to cause as defective. But it certainly seemed to me that the basis of belief would be strengthened, if the theistic conclusion could be shown to be forced out, even when not sought for, by the inevitable necessities of thinking.
It is quite true that, according to my system, the Deity is not independent of His own creative power, wisdom, or goodness, or of any of His other attributes; these and His works, when He chooses to execute them, coexist along with Him. That is my doctrine. I have stated everywhere throughout the Institutes, that by the variable element in the Divine mind, I mean the thoughts of the Deity, whatever these may be, for this I do not presume to determine. ******* There are, it is said, certain counter-propositions respecting space or time, neither of which we can construe positively to our minds. Thus, we must affirm that time either had an infinite non-commencement, or that it had an absolute commencement. But neither of these can we conceive; we cannot conceive time infinitely non-commencing, nor can we conceive it absolutely commencing. So of Space. We cannot conceive space as infinitely unlimited, nor can we conceive it as absolutely limited; we are thus said to be placed between two contradictories, neither of which is conceivable, but the one or other of which must be accepted, on the ground that of two contradictory propositions the one or the other must be true. But which is to be accepted we know not; we are perplexed between two opposite inconceivabilities; and this is what is meant by our knowledge "exploding in contradictions" when it applies itself to such subjects as Space and Time.
The implied argument is this; human reason explodes in contradictions, in other words, is nonplussed between two contradictory propositions, when it pursues the consideration of such themes as space and time. Therefore all reason must explode in like contradictions, must be baffled in a similar way, if we hold that there is any analogy, any point in common, between our and all other orders of intelligence, or that there are any laws binding on reason and knowledge universally. But to suppose that the highest reason should be thus baffled, is a supposition which is not to be entertained. Therefore the sound conclusion is, that our intelligence is diametrically different, essentially dissimilar in all respects, from intelligences of a superior order, and that there are no common laws binding on intelligence considered simply as such. There is thus no legitimacy in the process by which any of the laws of our thinking are laid down as valid for all thinking.
"What sort of an argument is that ? Even admitting that human reason is perplexed between these contradictories, does it necessarily follow, does it follow as a fair inference from that admission, that there are no truths which can be predicted of reason universally, that there are no laws which are valid for all intellect, without considering whether it is this, or that, or the other intellect ? Can we not admit that man's reason is imperfect, and, in reference to some questions, impotent, and yet stop short of the conclusion that in no respect whatever is it akin to a higher order of intelligence, supposing such to exist? Does our admission justify the inference that there are no conditions to which all knowledge and all thought are necessarily subject ? Does it disprove the legitimacy of maintaining that there are such laws ? To come nearer to the point : because human knowledge explodes, in some instances, in contradictions, is that any reason for denying the truth of the assertion, that "every intelligence must be cognisant of itself, when it is cognisant of anything else"? (proposition first of the Institutes, and the principle from which the whole subsequent deductions proceed.) Surely there is no force in such reasoning. It is equivalent to this : because intelligences differ in degree and power of enlightenment, therefore they can have nothing whatsoever in common. Should any one allege that the workings of human thought, as manifested in these contradictory propositions about space and time, indicate certain essential laws of human thinking, and that such laws, being essential, must be transferred, if any are to be transferred, to all thinking, I answer that these laws are not essential to human thinking, unless their opposites are shown to be nonsensical and contradictory by an appeal to the principle of contradiction. If this can be shown, I shall admit the legitimacy and necessity of the transference, not otherwise.
These propositions are a mere reproduction of the antinomies of Kant. They are the veriest trifling that can be conceived. They are not contradictory propositions; they do not face each other: for while it is obvious that there is no absurdity in supposing space "infinitely unlimited" (whether we can conceive this is another matter), it is evident that the grossest absurdity and contradiction are involved in the supposition that space is "absolutely limited." We cannot for a moment entertain the supposition that there is a space beyond which there is no space: this is a downright absurdity; but there is no absurdity in the supposition of space infinitely extended. In the spirit of this trifling, we might as well amuse ourselves with maintaining that, in regard to numeration, there either is a last number or no last number, and that both are inconceivable. But it is unnecessary to dwell on the merits of these contradictory propositions (propositions, however, which are not really contradictory); my purpose is answered in having shown that the argument founded upon them has no deleterious effect, either on the preliminary postulate, or first proposition of the Institutes.
A few remarks in explanation of this postulate will not be out of place in this exposition. It may be that the assumption on which my system proceeds, is not explained or enforced so fully as it might have been in the Institutes. The reader will find some remarks in the introduction (§ 66, 67), which only require to be amplified to bear out the assumption. It is possible, however, that it may have been set forth too much in the form of a mere postulate. The following observations may help to render it more convincing.
When the words "Knowing" and "Being" are used in any application whatever, their meaning must have some analogy—however remote and imperfect—to the meaning which they bear in all their other applications. They cannot be used in any one case without signifying, to some extent and in some sense, what they signify when used in any other case. Thus, when we say, that the Supreme Being knows and exists, we must mean by these words something analogous (however small and imperfectly understood the analogy may be) to what we mean when we employ the same words in reference to ourselves, or in any other relation. Language would have no meaning unless this were admitted. It would be , senseless to employ the words knowledge or existence in reference to any being, and then maintain that these words bore, in no respect or degree, the meaning which they bear in reference to other beings. We might as well employ the word tree in reference to an oak, and then maintain that the oak was in no sense whatever a tree. The admission, then, that particular words not only may, but must have a meaning in all their applications somewhat analogous to the meaning which they have in certain of their applications, is a truth which cannot reasonably be denied. All theology, as well as all metaphysics, demands this concession. And this preliminary concession my system demands as its most indispensable principle.
The measure adopted in the Institutes to obviate this difficulty is the consideration, that by universal acknowledgment there is, at any rate, one necessary law (the law of contradiction—a thing is what it is) binding on all reason and on all knowledge. But if it be admitted that all reason has one circumstance in common, the whole question is given up is decided in my favour (for the assertion is, that we are not entitled to extend to intelligence universally any one truth observable in our own intelligence), while, at the same time, a presumption is afforded that there may be other laws or truths common to all reason besides this single circumstance.
The difficulty of course lies in ascertaining the laws which are binding on all intelligence—the points which reason, considered simply as reason, and not as this or that particular reason, has in common. This task can be accomplished only when the truths in question are presented in the form of distinct propositions, and tested rigorously by the law of contradiction. Their opposites must be seen in every instance to be equivalent to the statement, that a thing is not what it is.
These remarks may help to establish, or at least to render intelligible, my fundamental principle, and also to show that the counter-hypothesis, which denies that reason has any common or essential characteristics, is both more precarious and more untenable. I have just to add, that the proposition which declares that all reason is subject to certain necessary laws, is laid down, not for the purpose of affording information in regard to the structure of all intelligence—that is a very subordinate consideration—but as supplying the only ground on which a science of metaphysics is possible. There is no mean between these two alternatives—either no metaphysics, or else this postulate.
The group of propositions regarding immensity, eternity, causation, receive their solution only when the relation of subject and object (that is, a mind present to all things) is assumed to be absolute in knowledge, for "Immensity" and "Eternity" are mere expressions of nonsense, unless an intelligence (or subject) is conceived of along with them. When an intelligence is conceived of along with Immensity and Eternity, these become conceivable in themselves, though perhaps not conceivable by us; when no intelligence is conceived of along with them, they are absolutely inconceivable in themselves, mere absurdity and contradiction. In regard to causation, the true theory of will or cause is indicated, though not fully worked out, in the Institutes, Prop. IX., obs. 13.
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To Mr Mansel of Oxford I am indebted for some observations on the Institutes, published in a note appended to a lecture delivered by him some months ago, in the university of which he is so distinguished an ornament. His objections are written in a fair spirit, and accompanied by compliments more flattering than my philosophy deserves. The most formidable difficulty or objection which Mr Mansel advances is contained in the following extract: "According to Professor Ferrier, the apprehension of matter per se is a contradiction. I can only apprehend myself-as-apprehending-matter. But this second self is, ex hypothesi, equally incapable of apprehending matter per se. It can only apprehend it under the same condition as the first, namely, by apprehending itself along with it. I cannot, therefore, apprehend myself as apprehending matter; but I must apprehend myself as apprehending myself-as-apprehending-matter. But the third self, again, is under the same law as the second. Wheel within wheel, ego within ego, the process continues ad infinitum. The argument which Herbart urges against Fichte's assumption of a subject-object, tells with greater force against Professor Ferrier. Once admit the necessary presence of two selves in consciousness, and we may, with equal reason, maintain the existence of two thousand."
The difficulty raised in this extract seems to be twofold, and therefore it will be best answered by being resolved into two separate objections. First, Mr Mansel seems to be staggered by an apparent contradiction, which my system presents at the very threshold. I affirm that the apprehension of matter per se is a contradiction. How, then, he asks (such, at least, I understand to be the point of this part of his objection), how can I maintain that I apprehend myself-as-apprehending-matter-per-se, when I affirm, in the same breath, that I never do apprehend matter per se? Surely the law which declares that matter per se is never apprehended, is not compatible with the affirmation that I apprehend myself apprehending it. A system which maintains these two positions is surely suicidal. My answer is this: The word apprehend is used in two somewhat different senses. It denotes, in the one place, inchoate, and in the other, completed cognition. Thus, in the sentence "I can apprehend myself-as-apprehending-matter," the word "apprehend" indicates completed apprehension, while the word "apprehending" signifies only inchoate or inceptive apprehension in other words, apprehension which is not apprehension until supplemented by the apprehension of myself as well as of the thing. A closed or completed cognition is alone a cognition, and yet a half or uncompleted cognition is, in a manner, cognition. This explanation may be sufficient to obviate the first part of Mr Hansel's objection. The process of cognition (according to my system) may be shortly stated in this formula. I apprehend (intelligently, and as an intelligible or completed object) me—apprehending (sensibly, unintelligently, and as an unintelligible or nonsensical, or uncompleted object) matter per se. The two together, subject and object, alone constitute the completed and presentable datum which is before me. The ambiguity in the twofold use of the word apprehend is, perhaps, not sufficiently explained in the Institutes. But the doctrine which involves this twofold use is fully unfolded under Proposition X. of the Epistemology.
Secondly, The other part of Mr Mansel's objection (if I understand it aright) centres in the consideration of the infinite series of self-duplications which the mind or ego must undergo (on the terms of my system), before it can realise a single act, or compass a single object of knowledge. I confess that I am totally unable to see the necessity of this; and until the objection be presented in a clearer and more forcible manner, I must be pardoned if I deem the following answer sufficient. All that is necessary, in the eye of reason, to constitute knowledge is, that, in every cognition, there shall be a point of unity and a point (or points) of diversity. (See Institutes, Prop. VI. Epistem.) But this law is fulfilled so soon as the ego turns round once upon itself (performs one act of self-duplication). It then apprehends itself, together with the other element of cognition, whatever that may be, which is not itself. And no more than this single self-duplication, or reflection on self, seems to be necessary, either for the constitution of the object, or for the performance of the act of knowledge. When Mr Mansel, in the extract quoted, speaks of "two selves," I cannot suppose him to mean that, according to my doctrine, there are two separate selves involved in the process of cognition, although his words might seem to imply that such is his understanding of my position. The ego, which is known by itself, is one and the same with that which knows itself.