properties of mind will apply to the operations of matter. Conclusion as to the Unknowable through inaccessibility of evidence. It is then to be noted that multitudes of things are unknowable by us and likely to remain so, not necessarily, from our intellectual incompetency, but by reason of the fact that no sufficiency of data are obtainable on which we might rise to the knowledge of such things. Nothing, I believe, will more readily contribute to the acquisition of real knowledge than to recognise, in the first place, the limits of the field in which knowledge is obtainable. It must clearly be to our advantage to confine our energies as closely as possible to the cultivation of that field, the knowable, vigorously restraining ourselves from wasting our faculties in mere conjectural labours. In all cases, the mind, as well as the body, requires a footing of fact to proceed upon-just as Archimedes required an extra-terrestrial fulcrum for the lever by which he was to move the world. The most magnificent of giants can do nothing but upon sound footing. Samson himself could not have carried away the Gates of Gaza-not even Delilah's hair-pins, but upon sound footing. What then shall the feeble, heavy person do, if deprived of such an advantage! We cannot proceed but upon the Given.-Facts-things Given, are to the scientific mind what the rungs of a ladder, or the steps of a staircase, are to the human body. It can really make no ascent whatever but upon facts, and inductions made upon facts. Meanwhile, of course, it would be extremely silly "should witness man so much misween That nothing is but that which he hath seen!" sciousness; the story of creation is shown to be the unbroken record of the evolution of gas into genius." The Story of Creation, p. 228. Mr. Clodd should sketch this "unbroken record of the evolution of gas into genius," and send it to Punch. The unconscious comicality of this portentous philosopher's notions, is as funny as the funniest creations of conscious humour. This, obviously, would be to reject the significance of the facts; although, as we have already recognised, their teaching is so powerful and convincing that we must accept their instruction. They are even charged with instruction touching the invisible-what eye hath not seen nor ear heard. What is now submitted is that we can know nothing and do nothing but upon a basis of factsthe Given;1 and that much remains unknowable and, probably, must remain unknowable, because, with respect to it, we cannot obtain such a basis. (D) THE MYSTERIOUS We come now to speak of the mysterious. All consciousness is made up of experiences-experiences of a self and a Universe. Philosophy, regarded as knowledge, is nothing more nor less than the articulate interpretation of these experiences given us by consciousness through all its faculties and capacities. We have interpreted some of those experiences as implying an actual knowledge of certain things (things known); some of them as implying an obtainable knowledge of other things (the knowable); some of them as implying an unobtainable knowledge of a third set of objects (the unknowable from inaccessibility of data); and now we come to consider a fourth order of experiences, touching which we recognise a positive inability to know or comprehend, in which we clearly recognise the Mysterious, -the Infinite, or that which the Finite recognises as fact, but is unable to comprehend, intellectually. 1 Hegel, for example, failed to observe this fundamental truth. "It is not allowable in philosophy," says the unhappy man, "to make a beginning with 'There is, there are,' for in philosophy the object must not be presupposed." The Philosophy of Religion, p. 89 (Eng. and For. Phil. Library). Thus at the very outset of his pilgrimage, he involves himself and his victims in an imbroglio of sheer stupidities and fatuities. No one of the thousand-fold industries and activities carried on by man, can be started even, but upon the basis of the presupposed,—the Given. 1. In Space and Time.-Try for example to conceive a beginning or an end to Space or Time. Though compelled by the constitution of our minds to dogmatise Space and Time as existent and endless (Space in extension and duration; Time in duration), we are lost in the thought of either. We recognise their actual presence, but we cannot intellectually comprehend them. We recognise in ourselves a positive inability to comprehend them. We stand towards them in the relationship of Finite to Infinite. " 1 2. In Matter.-Or take matter. How did it begin to be? The problem is absolutely insolvable. "A beginning is uncreate," says Plato sapiently; "for everything that is created must necessarily be created from a beginning, but a beginning itself from nothing whatever; for if a beginning were created from anything, it would not be a beginning." Exactly; so that the "uncreate" beginning is hidden from us. Obviously, we can make nothing of it. The problem is infinite: requires, probably, none less than the Deity to deal with it. We shall show wisdom, therefore, by leaving this problem of the creation of matter, alone. It is, if possible, more inscrutable than eggs, although it is present with us in all its million-fold manifestations. To a large number of philosophers, unhappily, philosophy has been a kind of Tower-of-Babel enterprise, ending in a general confusion of tongues. Why? Either because they have failed to realise their intellectual limitations, or, if recognising them, have failed to be warned by the recognition. Standing before the Infinite, they seem to have had no awe of it. Wholly ignorant about it, they have yet chattered about it in multitudinous and stupefying volumes. They do not seem to know when they have reached the Bedrock of any subject; but go on blunting and breaking their tools on the nether adamant. It would 1 Phaedrus, 51. be of immense service to philosophy at large, if all men would remember that there are some things which they cannot possibly know-some things about which they should be silent. For example, what a splendid opportunity of holding their tongues is offered to the evolutionists; but they have not the nous to seize it. Thousands of Babel volumes giving rise to abundant distraction, are the result of their pigmy struggle with the unknowable-as when Mr. Clodd, with the utmost gravity of countenance, discourses on the "evolution of gas into genius." So with others who write and talk as if they knew how the Hinges of the Universe were made and screwed up. So with the theologians and their systems, ancient but unholy,-talking as if they had sat all their lives in the Front Parlour of Omniscience. They will gabble and gabble on the very Deeps of Existence— even informing us about the constitution of the Godhead, rather than be silent, not recognising that much silence becometh the theologian well. Yes, R. L. Stevenson on ignorant ignorance and intelligent ignorance." That's the thing about you folk of the College learning," says Alan Breck to David Balfour, in Stevenson's novel of Catriona, "Ye're ignorant and ye canna see't. Wae's me for my Greek and Hebrew; but, man, I ken that I dinna ken them-there's the differ of it." there's the differ of it. "To ken that ye dinna ken" is one of the first accomplishments of the true philosopher and the true theologian, whilst most of the bad ones suffer themselves to be hallucinated to the most disastrous extent, through ignoring their own ignorance. Those who try to explain the Origin of things should be warmly advised to observe and seriously lay to heart the great fact that every hair in their heads is rooted and grounded in utter mystery.1 Bearing this indubitable fact in mind, no 1 Of course this great fact does not preclude the possibility of a proper study of the hair, nor of washes for the hair. sensible man will try to expound the Infinite and the Absolute. Thus we get rid of many philosophers. Dante on the Infinite.-Let us see how we actually stand in relation to the Infinite; let us try to realise our actual weakness in the presence and contemplation thereof. Were we in possession of further data, we might be able to know something more than we do regarding the terrestrial origin of eggs: we might even be able to know a great deal more than is known about the cosmic origin of our planet itself. We might find that it had resulted from the collision of two suns; or broken away from the tail of a comet; or that it was a coagulation of nebulous matter perhaps. But supposing that we were positively able to come to one or other of these conclusions in a perfectly scientific and satisfactory manner (that would be, on unquestionable and sufficient data), we should not rest satisfied, but would immediately proceed probably, to ask where that nebulous matter, or that comet, or those suns, had come from; and granting the possibility of this question being satisfactorily answered, we would again seek to carry our inquiry upward. Indeed, such is the very nature of the human mind-to carry its inquiries upward. But supposing we should have arrived at the parent mass of matter to which our planet had belonged-what then? Where did that come from? We are now face to face with the Infinite: we recognise its presence clearly, but we are quite unable to grapple with it. "The Ken your world is gifted with, descends But hidden through its deepness.' "1 It is to be regretted that in the same poem, Dante himself should be found trying to grapple with the Infinite.2 The 1 Paradise, Canto xix. 21b. Canto xxix. 22-6. |